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attapullman · 4 months ago

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The Boys Are Back / Whodunit? Origin Story

Summary: When best friends and childhood sleuths Bob Floyd and Mickey Garcia grow up, everything seems less fun. Thankfully things are about to completely change for these two hometown goofs.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, 80s inaccuracies, sci-fi opinions do not reflect that of the author

A Note From Mo: As would be the only appropriate gift for providing the inspiration for Whodunit?, happy birthday @bobgasm! Thank you for loving these two as much as me and helping make their story as fun as it is. Wishing you the best birthday on New Zealand time (we'll be celebrating America time as well, don't worry 😉)

origin story / prologue / whodunit? masterlist

“Are you really trying to convince me that Return of the Jedi is better than The Wrath of Khan?” Mickey couldn’t wipe the look of disgust off his face at this zit-faced teenager at the counter. The two fairly recent box office hits were a common disagreement, and this kid came in thinking he knew all that and a bag of chips.

“Force lightning? Luke trying to redeem his father? Dude, George Lucas made the last two movies true masterpieces, cinematic perfection!”

Rolling his eyes, aware that this knucklehead has no clue who he’s going against (all the best film geeks in town knew to not go against Fanboy Garcia and his sci-fi knowledge), Mickey dropped the copy of Raiders of the Lost Ark into a plastic bag along with the receipt.

“The Wrath of Khan brought people to tears. Invested us deeper into the characters we’ve loved for years, grown up with. Spock’s death shocked an entire nation, no doubt about it. And don’t be stupid, Vulcan nerve pinch defeats Force lightning every time.” He slides the bag across the counter with a scoff. “Movie is due back Tuesday. Come back with some real ammunition next time, airhead.”

Cheeks red, the teen grabs his bag and scuttles out of the Blockbuster. The bell chimes and suddenly the shop is empty.

While the access to new releases and movies in the break room were great perks, Mickey was so over this job. The blunderhead teens with their gnarly opinions, the bratty moms who always complain about the return dates. It’s just renting a movie for a week, not that complicated. When was his cousin going to get back to him about that maintenance gig at city hall? The sci-fi fan slumped against the counter and continued watching the copy of Legend they just got in.

Across town, Bob was also struggling with his work day. When was everyone going to realize he didn’t set the price of parts? He wasn’t even really a mechanic, just a guy who needed a summer job in high school and never stopped coming in. A star employee, he enjoyed the puzzle of putting components together and the purr of a perfectly oiled engine.

It may not have been his dream job, but the free parts for his ’65 Mustang and the content silence he and his uncle worked in wasn’t horrible.

Two more customers come in and try the haggle the price. Neither are impressed with the calm way Bob explains the cost of labor and parts, rubbing his greasy palms impatiently on his coveralls as he breaks down why he doesn’t work for free. And when he asks if they’d like him to undo the work to cut the cost, pocketbooks are pulled out and he’s got money in his pocket for beers later.

His uncle is long gone by the time Bob locks up the shop with a heavy padlock on the garage door. His boots scuff in the dirt as he makes his way to the Mustang, her blue paint shining in the late summer sun. She was stunning.

The breeze whipped through his hair - too long for his mother’s liking - as he drove across town. Mickey was just opening the door to The Alibi as he parked on the street. The best friends tip their heads in greeting.

“Bobby.”

“Fanboy.”

The two slap their hands together. Palms first, then two slaps from the back, before looping around to fist bump. A handshake from elementary school that somehow has carried on twenty years. After a few drinks a shimmy will make its way into the mix.

They take up residence at the bar, the same spot they’ve occupied a few nights a week since they walked out of that Navy enlistment meeting and never looked back. The bartender always knows to hand out whatever’s cheapest unless they’re holding paychecks.

“How many people confuse Star Wars and Star Trek today?” The cutting glare Mickey gives him says it all. Probably not the best time to make a Darth Khan joke.

Lost in the clatter and whoops of the bar, the best friends mull over their meaningless hourly jobs and contemplate the meaning of ‘the man’. Bob’s leather jacket hangs off the stool back, the sticky air of the bar clinging to the twentysomethings’ skin. One beer becomes two, two becomes three as the weekend arrives.

A loose curl hanging over his forehead, Mickey makes eyes contact with a babe across the room. He’d happily spend the evening with those beautiful eyes. The only perk of this dingy bar is it’s the only one in town, and a mix of old classmates and new-in-towns keep the dating game fresh.

Bob himself does a quick look around at the night’s prospects, doing a double take. No, it couldn’t be. When did the police captain’s daughter get back into town? She shoots an amiable smile and nod back before turning to her own drink and friends.

Mickey raises his eyebrows at his bud. Bob shoves him off his stool on the way to the bathroom.

As the night progresses, only the young and the young at heart (and alcoholics) are still in their seats at The Alibi. The best friends are a handful of beers deep, leaning across the bar to chat with Mickey’s childhood neighbor, Tom - a gruff guy with a beer gut and a penchant for belching when he laughs. They love making him laugh.

“I tell you two about the rocks that keep showing up on my doorstep?”

Mysterious rocks? The boys lean in closer, their light denim-clad pelvises nearly over the bar top. Shaking their heads, all ears, they urge Tom for more information.

“Been happenin’ for months now. At first I didn’t think anything of it. Animals maybe? But they keep getting bigger and bigger. Tripped over one the size of a melon yesterday, stupid fucking rock. Belchhhh.” The boys snicker into their beers. “Can’t figure out who’s doing it. Gonna end up breaking my front step with a mountain one of these days.”

The boys exchange a look as they contemplate the conundrum. Who would just leave rocks on Tom’s doorstep? Wouldn’t it get old after a few weeks? And rocks of all things?

“It’s not that big of town. Who could it be?” Mickey cocks his head to the side. Tom has always been a nice guy. A little oblivious, but harmless. “Your ex-wife back in town?”

The bearded man shakes his head, scratching the underside of his belly as he realizes it’s time to call it a night.

As Tom goes to pay his tab, Phil, who’s been manning the bar at The Alibi since before LBJ was in office, spoke up. “You two solved mysteries as kids, yeah?”

The young men give him a perturbed look, confused why he’d bring up their silly sleuthing games from decades before. Hesitant, Bob nods. Who could forget the years spent hunched in random hiding spots, notebooks and binoculars at the ready. Mickey still had a scar from falling out of the second floor stairwell in the community center.

Tom is delighted, his drunken eyes lighting up. “Any chance you two could take a whack at figuring out who’s leaving all these fucking rocks on my doorstep? There’s a twenty in it for ya.”

It’s been…years since they last solved anything. Petty crimes from other classmates, some neighborhood drama, but that was before puberty. Did they still have the gift?

“Sure man, why not?” Shoulders are shrugged, hands are shook tipsily. They’d stop by in the morning before their shifts. Natural curiosity has them dying to see the assortment of rocks.

Tom heads out and the boys clink the necks of their bottles together, enjoying the last sip of the night. Who knew where this was going, but they were always up for a challenge.

A week later, the two returning sleuths are hunched over behind a bush with a pack of pretzels and a six-pack, mud caking Mickey’s new Air Forces. There’s cigarette stubs in the dirt and they’ve been arguing over the best flavor of Fanta for an hour.

In the wee hours of the morning Tom’s next door neighbor sneaks into his garden to place a rock roughly the size of a pumpkin on the front step. The shared fence issue Tom thought to be resolved? Definitely not.

Another neighborhood drama solved. Twenty dollars in their pocket.

But with the solve comes a burning itch that Mickey can’t scratch. Keeps him up at night, lives in the corner of his brain while he rents movies to bored-face teens. A blazing fire that can only be tended, not extinguished.

“What if we started our own detective agency?”

Bob spat out his ginger ale on Mrs. Garcia’s freshly cleaned granite countertop. Was Fanboy tripping?

“C’mon man, why not? Put up some flyers and solve whatever rinky dink shit comes up in our free time? Make some extra cash? We might actually be able to move out on our own. Don’t you want freedom?”

They’d been bitching about it for months, wanting to get out of their childhood bedrooms and actually do something with their lives. So the Navy wasn’t for them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t serve their community in other ways. Maybe this was the answer to their unsure futures.

Bob grabbed his best friend’s hand, the decade-old handshake turning into a brotherly hug. “Just promise me we won’t get into anything too crazy. I like my Sundays on the couch.”

In six months they’d raised the cash for their own apartment, a small two bed in the dusky pink modular building off Main Street. In a year the amateur sleuths had been in the local paper twice. And two years and several police case assistances later, they stood across from the police captain’s daughter, not a smile in sight.

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callsign-dexter · 1 year ago

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Surprise!

Request: Okay okay, you got me with protective Jake !! 😱This makes me think of an idea where the reader is his childhood friend but they haven't seen each other in a while due to his job. So you decide to surprise him at the base when he doesn't expect it, to tell him as well you're moving back to San Diego and he's more than speechless and unbelievable happy. So you catch up on the lost time and he gets always into protective mode when the other guys come near you but you become friends with all the daggers and Jake's mood lightened up 100% since you're here and it's all perfect ? 🫣

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Best Friend!Reader

Warnings: fluff

Masterlist

San Diego, the sunniest and probably the warmest place on earth. You had just arrived and stepped out of your car in sunny San Diego. You loved it already and would continue to love it for the whole time you would be living there. The reason you were here was because you wanted to see your childhood friend, Jake Seresin, and you would be moving here after a wonderful job opportunity at none other than Top Gun. No, you weren’t a pilot but you were going to be the new maintenance supervisor for the F-18s. You were excited to say the least. You didn’t have a lot of stuff due to moving around. You needed a place to stay and quickly since you started tomorrow. First you needed to get to base and say hi to your bosses, which is where you were now. It was easy to get onto base considering you had your military ID. You knew that Jake was here and you were excited to see him.

As you walked into the building you passed many people in their military uniforms. You weren’t in yours considering you had just arrived. When you were halfway to Beau “Cyclone” Simpson’s office you heard a voice that you hadn’t heard in forever and a smile popped onto your face and you followed it. You walked over to the voices and saw the tall, blonde, and green-eyed man he was going on about something nobody had seemed to notice you besides a blonde haired and blue-eyed man with glasses and he smiled and waved and you waved back. As Jake took a break in his little back and forth, he was having with a darked haired woman you decided to speak up. “Don’t believe anything he says. He tends to over exaggerate on stories.” You said and you could see him tense up and started to turn around.

“How the hell-” He began and then he saw you and the tension melted away and had the biggest smile on his face “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, bringing you into a hug that you missed so much.

“Well, I decided to surprise you! So, surprise! Also, I’m moving here.” You said and hugged him back and closed your eyes.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say.” He said as he pulled away.

“Bagman, not knowing what to say? That’s a first.” A man with a mustache said and everyone laughed as Jake flipped him off. “You gonna introduce us?” He asked but Jake couldn’t stop looking at you smiling and you shook your head.

“I’m Y/N “Galaxy” Y/L/N, the new F-18 Maintenance Supervisor.” You said

“I heard we were getting a new one but that was about it. Hi, I’m Natasha Trace callsign Phoenix.” Natasha said “Let me just add, thank you for finally getting Bagman here to shut up and it’s going to be so nice having another female around here.” She said and then pulled you into a hug and you laughed.

“I’m Javy Machado callsign Coyote. Jake here has told me a lot about you.” He said and you chuckled.

“All good things I hope.” You said with a chuckle and elbowed Jake you had rolled his eyes at you but the smile never left his face.

“I’m Robert Floyd callsign Bob.” Bob said and you smiled at him.

“I love the callsign. It is so simple and I love it. Plus, your glasses make you look cute.” You said and he blushed and ducked his head. There was one thing about you that Jake loved and that is that you said what you thought and took crap from anyone.

“I’m Bradley Bradshaw callsign Rooster.” Bradley walked over and took your hand and kissed it and you smiled and Jake did not like that one bit.

“Back off, Chicken.” Jake said, taking your hand out of his and pushing him away and you just shook your head.

“Mickey Gracia callsign Fanboy. Maybe that you're around Jake will lighten up and stop being well Jake.” Mickey said and you turned to look at Jake.

“Have you been a jerk to them?” You asked and he shook his head.

“It’s called tough love.” He said

“Tough love my ass. I’m Ruben Fitz callsign Payback.” He said and shook your hand.

“Galaxy? How did you get that name?” Natasha asked and you smiled.

“Jake gave it to me first then my old squad gave it to me despite not being an aviator. I loved looking at the stars and knew everything about the galaxy and space. I geeked out once and the name just stuck.” You said with a smile and so did Jake he remembered when it happened.

“I love it.” Natasha said

“Why thank you.” You said and then looked at your watch “I need to go and meet Cyclone. Jake, do you want me to show me the way to his office?” You asked and he nodded his head and put a hand on your back as you both turned and started to head off. “It was nice meeting you all. I look forward to working with you and hanging out with you.” You called over your shoulder as you got a chorus of ‘you too’ and ‘goodbye’.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Jake asked as you walked.

“I literally got the call about it yesterday.” You said and leaned into him briefly.

“I just can’t believe you’re here and staying.” He said and you smiled. Jake was like a brother to you. He was there through every breakup and every emergency trip. The thought of you two dating didn’t sit well with either of you so it was never pursued. You both were happy being friends. “Have you found a place yet?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Nope.” You said popping the p.

“Well, you’re in luck. I need a roommate.” He said

“Jake.” You started

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He said and you sighed.

“Fine. I’ll meet you at my Jeep after I’m done here.” You said as you both arrived at the office.

“Deal.” He said as you knocked on the door and heard a faint ‘come in’ and you turned the handle and walked in giving Jake a smile.

——————————————————————

The meeting went great and as you said your goodbyes to Cyclone, Warlock, and Maverick you walked to your Jeep where Jake was standing and he smiled when he saw you. “How was it?” He asked and you smiled.

“Went really well! I'm excited to be working with y'all.” You said as your southern accent came out just a tiny bit like it always dies when you were around Jake.

“Great! Now I know my jet is in great hands under a person that I trust.” He said and gave you a little nudge. “Now let's get to my place where you'll be staying.” He said.

“I'll stay until I find myself a place.” You said as you opened the driver's side door and he shook his head.

“Not a chance.” Jake said and you chuckled.

“We'll see about that. I'll follow you.” You told him and he nodded as you got into your Jeep and him into his truck that was right beside yours. It didn't take long to get to his place and he lived close to the base and a bar called The Hard Deck which you think you'd really like. He pulled into the driveway and you pulled in right next to him. You were just about to get out when he opened the door for you.

“Now we can catch up and then meet everyone at The Hard Deck.” He said as you got out “We can unpack you later.” He added when he saw you looking at your stuff about to grab it. You huffed he always knew what you were thinking.

“Fine.” You said and followed him into the cozy little house and when you walked in you were surprised by how warm it felt.

“Beer?” He asked and you nodded.

“Please.” You said as he walked to the fridge as he set his keys down and you did the same. He grabbed two and then pointed towards the living room where you followed and sat on the couch. He opened the beer and gave it to you.

“So, what have you been up to? It’s been forever and I missed you.” Jake said as he took a drink of his beer and then looked at you as you took a drink of your beer.

“Well, let’s see I was last stationed at Naval Air Station Fallon in Fallon, Nevada and then we got deployed to South Korea for 6 months and then we came back and I got stationed at Top Gun. My mother died 2 months ago due to an incurable illness and then dad died a month after. My brother and sister never talk to me and they only showed up for the funeral and then left. My boyfriend of 5 months broke up with me because he cheated on me while I was deployed.” You told him and he looked at you with an unrecognizable look on his face, one that almost was of pity. “Don’t look at me like that.” You said and turned to look away from him as you took a drink of your beer.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Jake said not knowing what to say.

“It’s alright. I’ve always had a rough life so this is nothing new.” You said and looked at him and he shook his head.

“You don’t deserve this. Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve been down there in an instant.” Jake asked you set your beer on the coffee table and turned to look at him fully.

“Because we hadn’t talked in years. We saw each other at graduation and then you were heading off to basic training.” You said “I went two years after you. I was taking care of mom. I didn’t want to go but she didn’t want to hold me back and told me to go and so I did.” You said with a shrug and he sat his beer down on the coffee table next to yours and pulled you into a hug.

“I’m here for you now, Galaxy. You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon, I promise.” He said and hugged him back and sunk into his embrace you truly did miss his hugs and his smell. You closed your eyes taking in the warmth and felt him drop a kiss onto your head. After a few moments of being in each other's arms you both released each other. You two stayed up and talked about your lives and just catching up in general and then you both ending up falling asleep.

——————————————————————

The next morning you both got up early and had breakfast together and then you both were heading off the base. Neither you, Jake, or any of The Daggers saw each other throughout the day, due to you being busy getting into a routine and meeting your teammates that you really liked and everyone got along unlike your last squad. Before you knew it, it was time to leave while packing up getting ready to leave Jake and The Daggers showed up and you smiled when you heard Jake calling out your name. “Hey, Galaxy! We’re heading off to The Hard Deck. Wanna join?” He asked and you smiled.

“Of course! Let me finish up here and I’ll be there.” You said and went back to finishing up what you needed. He turned to the others.

“You guys go on. We’ll meet you there.” Jake said

“Woah! Jake waiting up for someone? That’s new.” Mickey said and Jake rolled his eyes.

“I can be nice when people deserve it. Now go on. We’ll meet you there.” He said and they left. You smiled and shook your head and in no time you were done and you both were heading off to The Hard Deck.

When you reached your destination he opened the door for you and the both of you walked in and straight to the bar. You saw a nice blonde haired woman working and she smiled at Jake. “Jake, I see you finally decided to join! Who is this you have with you?” She asked.

“Penny meet Y/N. Y/N meet Penny. She is the owner of the bar.” Jake said and you and Penny smiled at each other.

“Hi Penny! Nice to meet you! You have such a lovely place.” You said and she smiled.

“Oh don’t flatter me. What can I get you?” She asked

“Let me see if I still remember it.” Jake cut in and you tipped your head in a motion like ‘go on’ with a smirk “She’ll take a Long Island Iced Tea with lemon and put it on my tab.” He said, looking at you as you nodded.

“You got it.” Penny said

“You actually remembered.” You said

“Of course. How could I forget?” Jake said as Penny came back with your drink and what you were assuming was his original.

“Thank you, Penny.” You said and smiled and nodded and you both headed over to the group where you all greeted each other.

“Where have you been all this time?” Natasha asked and you looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” You asked her.

“Ever since you have come here, Jake has been so much happier and so much more friendly and he hasn’t been leaving anybody hanging.” Natasha said and everyone agreed.

“She makes me happy. I would do anything for her.” He said and you nodded and it was left at that. As the night went on you had been hit on more times than you could count or liked but you didn’t have to worry about it for long because Jake was always there to scare them off and you were grateful and you weren’t looking for a relationship right now. You were quick to make friends with everyone especially Bob, he was quiet and reserved and you really liked that and he didn’t try to hit on you.

As you mingled about with the squad Jake stood back watching and smiling. He was definitely glad to have you close and it was true you did make him happy. He was a little protective when the guys tried to hit on you and he was there ready to step in but you handled and they quickly backed down. Everyone quickly became protective of you especially when it came to strangers coming up to you and trying to get with you and let Jake back down on his protectiveness some but not all the way. Jake was just happy to have his true friend that he had known for years back in his life and he was not letting go this time.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader imagines #jake seresin x reader imagine #jake seresin x reader fandom #jake seresin x reader fanfic #jake seresin x reader fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #top gun fan fiction #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick

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abilouwrites · 1 year ago

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DID YOU SEE THE WAY HE LOOKED AT YOU?

Me when Trevor Zegras 😽😽😼😼😻😻😻

I’d never seen him with such a fondness in his eyes. Watching with such focus as I lap around the arena. Stretching tall and lifting legs in preparation of a short routine. His teammates simply talk between each other but he doesn’t utter a word.

I see him in the corner of my eye, crossing my legs to gain speed. I let myself glide for a moment before an axel. The music is in my ears, hair fluttering in a ponytail.

The sharp twists and turns never give me whiplash, nor make me dizzy. It’s the sore of my knees and the shouting of my coach that make this much harder than it needs to be.

“Spin god damnit!” She shouts, “You look like a Floppy Turkey! Use your core not your knees” her hair is neat and straight. Bobbed and she’s wearing a thick coat even as I’m sweating through a tank top.

She doesn’t even let me finish before she sees my knees buckling and kicks me off the ice. She sternly marches onward, “get your knee looked at or I won’t let you on the ice. Do not make the same mistakes I did”

I know she means it from the heart but it still hurts. After giving something your all and still not being good enough. Even though she doesn’t say it it still sucks.

I see him again, still watching me as I plop down next to him to put my guards on. “You were good out there. Really uh delicate on the ice”

I purse my lips and smile and nod deciding to take my skates off and put in my shoes. “Thank you, I’m sorry we took so long. I heard your rink got closed for maintenance” I apologize and make idle conversation with him

“Yeah, don’t be sorry, the boys weren’t to keen but I think we should all be grateful to be skating, right?”

I smile and nod, “y/n” I introduce myself

“Trevor.. maybe I’ll uh see you around” he smiles, “oh do you have a pen?”

I nod and give it to him, he takes my arm and writes his number on it, “I really hope you don’t have a boyfriend”

“It’s a good thing I don’t I guess”

#nhl #trevor zegras #Zegras #anaheim ducks #hockey #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x you

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hermannsthumb · 30 days ago

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hiiiii im a HUGE fan of your work. i was wondering if you would care to do #23-bonfire or #15-bobbing for apples off the fall prompt list?

23. Bonfire

from autumn fic prompts here

i had enough time today to bang this one out really fast, because i desperately wanted to write something halloweeny after spending all month working on the hallozine! take a short fic with some dumb boys (the best kind of boys) making out! (ALSO THANK U!!!)

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

Newt usually doesn’t bother hitting up Shatterdome parties, mostly because he’s become too high-strung, like, 80% of the time to actually enjoy himself at anything that cuts into time that could be spent doing something useful in the lab (he can’t believe he’s actually saying that), but the flyers posted semi-discreetly on corkboards around the base for this year’s Halloween bash caught his eye. A rooftop Halloween bonfire. The brazenness of advertising something so clearly a massively illegal fire hazard impressed him, and in the spirit of sticking it to the man Newt felt like he was obliged to go.

He half-asses a costume an hour before the bonfire starts with the help of some random shit he finds around the lab and shows up fashionably late with a six-pack of low quality beer he shoved into the back of the lab minifridge a couple months ago. The bonfire is being held at the same rooftop he and Hermann sometimes sneak off to to bitch at each other in private when they need some fresh air, to Newt’s surprise, since he’s been operating under the assumption for several years now that they're the only two who know about it. Hermann was the one to pick the lock on the maintenance access door, after all.

The bonfire is more of a controlled campfire in a metal fire pit and being heavily monitored by a j-tech with a poker in a Frankenstein’s monster costume, but Newt finds it admirable all the same.

He trades his six pack in for something that looks moderately less awful from a booze table and takes in the party. There’s Halloween party garland and orange-purple string lights strung around the railings, a few lit up Styrofoam jack-o-lanterns smiling on the snack tables, and generically spooky instrumental music blasting from someone’s Bluetooth speaker. Most of his fellow partygoers are unrecognizable in their costumes.

Well, not everyone.

He’s more than slightly astonished to see Hermann hunched in on himself at the far end of the roof (their spot, Newt would call it, if he wanted to get all sentimental about it), illuminated by string lights, the hood of his massive green parka tucked down low over his face and his fingers wrapped tight around what looks like the same kind of beer as Newt. Hermann doesn’t really do stuff like this, you know, the whole socializing, making an effort to make an effort thing, and—on top of that—he scoffed when Newt tried to subtly imply yesterday over lunch that he should tag along with Newt to the party. Fire hazard, he said, I have no desire to be written up by the Marshal because I’m a huge kiss-up nerd with absolutely zero Halloween spirit, Newton, or, you know, something like what.

Newt makes a beeline for his colleague before Hermann can look up and make a beeline of his own straight out of here. Then again, Newt was the one to invite Hermann in the first place, so he has to imagine the guy won’t completely mind breathing the same air as him for a few minutes.

“Nice costume,” Newt says, sidling up next to Hermann. Hermann doesn’t bother greeting him like a normal human being, just sighs in the put-upon way he likes to direct at Newt alone. “What are you going as, a big nerd?” He plucks at the sleeve of Hermann’s parka. “How are you not dying in that thing right now?”

The Octobers here are very different from the quaint, chilly little New England falls Newt grew up with: warm and humid, and absolutely way too warm and humid for Hermann’s ridiculous big coat. Hermann ignores him, so as payback Newt steals and takes a swig from his beer while Hermann makes a noise of protest. "Did you at least sterilize that equipment before coming up here?" he finally says. “I don’t believe anyone will be very pleased if you get kaiju slime all over the punch bowl. What are you meant to be, anyway?”

“Obviously I’m a mad scientist,” Newt says. He snaps his work goggles down awkwardly over his glasses and pops the collar of his white labcoat, which he’d painstakingly splattered with some blue dye that vaguely resembles kaiju blood. (He was tempted to use actual neutralized blood for authenticity’s sake but ultimately decided that would be a stupid, possibly biohazardous idea.)

Hermann arches his eyebrows, apparently unimpressed.

“Whatever, dude, at least I put in some effort,” Newt says. He pushes the goggles back up and makes a face at Hermann. “I thought you weren’t gonna come to this thing anyway?” Hermann had been pretty adamant about it being a stupid idea.

“I wasn’t intending to,” Hermann says, scowling, and in retaliation swipes Newt’s untouched beer. “I happened to be here when it started—I didn’t realize it was being held at this particular rooftop. I thought I may as well stay. I haven’t got anything better to do, after all.” He takes a sip of Newt's beer.

“Ooh, you party animal,” Newt says.

He tugs Hermann’s hood down off his head so he doesn’t have to think about how bad Hermann must be sweating under it anymore. Beneath it Hermann’s hair is messy and a little staticky, sticking up in the back, and his cheeks and ears are flushed red from either alcohol or heat or both, visible even in the low light. It’s really pretty cute.

Feeling bold, Newt tugs him forward by the parka’s zipper and kisses him. He feels Hermann’s frown gradually smooth out to a stoic just-there smile beneath his lips. Hermann taps his chest gently. “Newton, not in public,” he mumbles.

Pavlovian response to kiss Hermann, Newt thinks; they make out here at least every other week. And anyway, it’s dark enough and they’re far away enough from the crowd around the bonfire that you’d really have to squint to tell who they are, so it's not really that public. Newt recognized Hermann immediately, obviously, but that’s because he instinctively looks for Hermann upon entering any given location on the base. Newt’s being so sentimental tonight. He’s not sure what’s gotten into him.

“You can just admit you wanted to check out the bonfire,” Newt says. “That’s a significantly less weird reason for lurking around in the dark than being too stubborn to leave when everyone crashed your super emo brooding time. You can have fun sometimes, Hermann.” Newt could maybe use that reminder too. “We can have fun,” he amends.

“I wasn’t brooding,” Hermann says.

“Then what were you doing?” Newt says, and at the little embarrassed flick of Hermann’s eyes to the ground, he quickly develops a hypothesis. “Dude, were you waiting for me to get here? And in our spot? Why didn't you just say you changed your mind?”

“I was not,” Hermann says, but he’s the one to close the gap between them this time. Hermann always kisses a little hesitantly at first, like he’s not sure if he’s doing it right, or that Newt is suddenly gonna change his mind three seconds in, but he also gets into it just as fast, and the payoff is always worth it. Soon he’s sliding his hand up the side of Newt’s face and toying with the strap of his safety goggles, his lips parting under Newt’s.

In public! Newt thinks to exclaim, but that’s definitely enough to cut things very, very short, so he keeps his stupid thoughts to himself and grabs the front of Hermann’s parka. “How long do you think we have before they shut this down?” Newt gasps when Hermann slides down to kiss under his jaw. “The—the bonfire, I mean.”

“Not very long,” Hermann says against his throat. “I’ll be fast.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #linooodles

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wordywarriorwrites · 1 year ago

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Clearly

Title: Clearly | A03 | Rating: T+

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Joel’s spent a year trying to get a read on you. One night, you finally let him.

Warnings: Brief mentions of violence. Hints of spice. Language.

Joel can’t remember the last time he really wanted a woman.

Being a single father had made dating a challenge. Then, the world ended. And as for Tess? Well, they never managed to be on the same page – her always needing something more and him being unable to give it.

Now, things are different. And there’s you. Sitting across from him, feeding Tommy’s son, and looking like a confusing combination of a bad idea and something that might be good for him.

This isn’t the first meeting. Or the first shared dinner. Still, Joel’s so damn nervous just being near you that his palms are actually sweating where they rest on his knees beneath the table. There’s an edge and an air about you – something that makes the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

It beckons him – tempts him to take a risk and get a closer look.

You’re a mutual friend of Tommy and Maria. Joel’s known you for about a year now and has seen you around town enough to know people respect and trust you. In addition to teaching the kids of Jackson their ABCs and 1-2-3s, he’s watched you plant flowers, sew busted buttons, and calm unruly horses. You’re damn good with a rifle and decent at darts.

Hell, even Ellie likes you – in fact, she’s practically monopolizing you, peppering you with questions while Maria and Tommy set the table, and you answer everything while simultaneously (and successfully) scooping mashed peas into the gummy mouth of a gurgling, wriggling baby who seems to adore you.

Joel used to be so good at knowing what people were thinking, what made them tick, but consistent food, safety, and shelter have made him softer and more complacent than he ought to be. He thinks he gets glimpses – brief flashes of bridled wildness that appear when you’ve had a few too many, or when the townsfolk get a little rowdy, or when the odd fight breaks out. It’s rare, but he swears he’s seen it. Then again, perhaps he’s misreading you entirely.

Maybe he just sees in you the edge he used to have.

If he recalls correctly, you’re around his age – maybe a handful of years younger. Save for a vicious scar of unknown origins at the base of your throat, you seemed to have fared better than he did, all things considered. You sure as hell aged better – becoming laugh lines, no grays, and zero complaints about your back and knees. You’re a damn fine-looking woman, but he’s met beautiful women before, and he’s never been this affected.

In fact, it’s been more than twenty years since he’s felt the type of pull that makes him want to do something other than run or just ignore it. You’ve piqued his curiosity. Made something misfire in his brain. He doesn’t know whether to be wary, turned on, or scared.

“You alright, Miller?” you prompt.

Joel stares dumbly at you. You waggle the bowl of potatoes at him. He offers an awkward head bob and a mumbled thanks before overserving himself and clumsily passing the dish off to his brother.

Aside from his blunder, the rest of dinner is uneventful, with the evening being mostly comprised of small talk centered around work rotations, wall maintenance, and supply audits. Joel doesn’t really have much to contribute and save for the occasional yes or no response to a direct question, he’s silent. The baby gets passed around a few times before the night’s over, and by the end of it, he’s exhausted and can’t exactly pinpoint why.

Maria and Tommy see everyone out, sending you and Ellie home with baskets brimming with leftovers. Joel heads off with a wave and a yawn, following the two of you down the stairs and onto the street. He’s not paying much attention, just moseying along until the place he and Ellie call home comes into view.

“You head inside,” you murmur to Ellie. “I wanna talk to Joel for a minute.”

Ellie looks back and forth between the two of you, “Everything cool?”

You laugh, “Yeah. Just boring, adult stuff. Nothing that would interest you.”

The quirk of the kid’s brow suggests she knows better, and she doesn’t budge until Joel waves her off. When Ellie slows and looks back, he shoos her again. As soon as she disappears into the house and closes the front door, you set your basket at your feet and let out a sigh.

“Well, I’m sure she’s looking out the window, so, let’s get to it,” you declare.

One moment, he’s standing across from you, watching the moonlight highlight the apples of your cheeks. The next, you’ve got the lapels of his flannel balled up in your fists, and you’re yanking him forward. You kiss him hard – almost like you’ve got something to prove – but you don’t fumble it. You hit him with a heady, one-two-punch combination of teeth and tongue that sends something scorching zipping up his spine, turning him from a passive spectator to an aggressive participant.

In his haste to reciprocate, he kicks over your basket of leftovers, but you don’t protest. And when he palms your ass, bringing your bodies flush and pressing against you tight, you don’t stop him. In fact, you make a little sound in the back of your throat that shakes the hell out of him – like this is what you were after and what you wanted all along. Joel knows he’s in danger because he’s already flying high with just a kiss, and your fingertips grazing his patchy beard before finding their way into his messy hair makes his belly swoop and his breath catch.

You pull away first, and he chases your mouth, eagerly and greedily brushing his lips against yours a few more times before clearing his throat and standing to his full height.

“Dunno about you,” you sigh, tone warmer than a banked fire. “But I feel better.”

He laughs, and your answering smile cranks up the odd, giddy feeling that’s floating somewhere in the region of his chest. Joel stares at you for a time. You stare right back. No awkwardness, no apprehension. The shared moment comfortably dissipates, and the two of you work together to repack the basket.

“Can I walk you home?” he offers.

“Better not,” you banter, tone all flirtatious as you secure the basket’s handle in the crook of your elbow “If I get you alone or near a bed… Could be dangerous.”

Joel grins and rubs the back of his neck, “Well, if you change your mind.”

You don’t have to say it because he knows. Joel knows he’ll see you again. Kiss you again. That you’ll claim him as your own and that you’ll belong to him. He knows it because when he looks into your eyes, he’s finally – and perhaps with only your blessing – able to see you clearly.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fan fiction

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mistyresolve · 2 years ago

Note

if it's not too much, I was wondering how task 141 + König would react to finding y/n jamming out to this 80s song called Erotic City. it's absolutely foul but such a good song

Word Count - 1.9k

Tags/Warnings - mostly just nonsense with some allusions to the dirty

A/N - yes yes yes, this was so much fun and thank you for allowing me the honour! and nothing is ever too much when it comes to these boys. Although I'm nervous about Gaz and Alejandro bc I've never written anything for them before and I feel like I can't do those two justice. I hope I'm listening to the right song by Prince and i hope this is what you were looking for 🤍

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The 141

Ghost

You were the camp's armour and you spent a lot of your time alone. So your radio was constantly on. You had very few channels but the 80s on 8 always had the best music.

Ghost could hear the music through the open door, but couldn’t make out the lyric yet. Although it sounded vaguely familiar to him. He was coming to drop off his firearms and get them serviced. He did most maintenance himself but would come to you every couple of weeks for a thorough cleaning.

More often than not he would walk in on you singing along, bobbing your head or tapping your foot along with the radio, but this time you were full-on dancing. The type of dancing people save for when at the nightclub and when drunk.

He would knock once but you wouldn’t be able to hear him. So he would stand and wait for you to notice him in the doorway. A smile tugged at one side of his mouth. Not out of mockery but because he was genuinely impressed with your rhythm.

He would shamelessly admire your hips and ass, remembering how they felt under his fingertips a couple of nights before. If he had known you could move like that he would have had you on top of his rather than beneath him. Next time.

When you finally turn around and make eye contact with him you jump back into the table behind you. Containers sloshing with oils, and metal brushes knocking off the side.

“Jesus!” you would rub at your side and the bruise that would soon form there, “Little creeper.”

You would use the little remote to turn down your radio after clearing your throat.

He would turn over his gear, and raise his hands in fake surrender, “I knocked,” he teases, jerking his chin towards you, “but you didn’t hear me.”

“Just give me your gun and get out of here,” you weren’t one to get embarrassed but he couldn’t have caught you at a worse time. And it was him of all people.

Soap

You were in the bathroom, getting ready to go out for dinner with your co-workers when this song came on. He knows the lyric and you can’t change my mind.

Soap was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you to finish up in the bathroom and just when he started to question how long it was taking you, he heard the volume of the music increase. And judging by the type of song it was he already knew what he would expect when he poked his head into the bathroom.

He’d be horribly off-tune but completely on-beat and he would match your energy. He would let you be the lead because he knows he wouldn’t be able to decide whether he would want to feel you dancing on him or watch you dance to the song.

That is until you guide him back towards the mirror so you can resume getting ready while continuing on with the dancing. This way he can both see you in the reflection of the mirror and still have his hands all over you.

He loved being near you, loved being able to feel your body heat and smell your fresh-out-of-the-shower scent. The one that smelt like lavender soap.

He loved it when you played him like a violin to get what you wanted from him, and he didn’t care that you did it. He was aware the entire time and let you take advantage of him anyways.

He knew you didn’t want to go to the dinner, but he also knew you didn’t want to be the reason you guys never made it out the door. You were the instigator and he would be the initiator.

“I know what you're doing,” he sing-songed into your ear from behind, dragging his nose up the length of your neck, “and as much as I too would like to stay…we did skip the last dinner and it would be poor manners to skip another.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Oh lass, I’m fun,” he backed away, “all I said was that we couldn't skip. I never said we couldn’t be late.”

Price

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted from the kitchen, dragging Price from sleep and then the bed. He noticed your side of the bed was empty. The pillows that had been thrown off the bed last night were now neatly piled on the bed.

Next, he would follow the funky pumping music, the sun was already risen and lit up the hallways to the kitchen and living room. He watched as your shadow slid from one side of the counter to the other.

You were never up before him and you were far from a morning person. Yet he was watching you working away at the stove, wearing his white button-down from the date night before, and he decided it was a crime to cut the fun short.

You heard him come down the hallway and when he turned the corner you dragged your fingers up your body, catching the fabric and dragging it up with your fingers. Revealing nothing but promising everything.

He took a seat at the island, folding his arms across his chest and continued to watch. His soft eyes followed and cataloged every twist and bend of your bare legs. Lingering on the silhouette of your body through the shirt as the sunlight passes through it.

“You’re makin’ me breakfast? At seven am? What did I do to deserve this?” he tosses you a sleepy smile from behind the cup of coffee you just poured him. Black and as strong as you could make it. He preferred the bitterness.

“You took such great care of me last night, seems only fair I return the favour,” you poured yourself a cup of hot water for yourself, preparing it for a tea bag.

Confidence bloomed in his chest. That I did. He thought to himself.

“Carry on, Dancing Queen,” you did as he asked but not without a quick kiss.

Alejandro

You were picking him up on base and it was normal for you to pull up with loud music but the last thing he expected when he opened the passenger door was “Erotic City” by Prince to be absolutely blaring.

Each time he called you for a ride he told himself it was the last time. He debates the repercussion should he decide to walk the rest of the way to HQ rather than get in the car with you.

Your sunglasses hanging on the tip of your nose and your eyes peeked out from the top, and you would immediately point at him, an invitation to join in on the festivities.

He would immediately decline with a firm shake of his head. He knows the song but refuses to take part in the antics. He will be staring out the window until the song ends.

He gets even more annoyed when you roll down the windows, slow down the car by 5 and turn the music even louder. He isn’t sure if he wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all or if he wants to rip the stereo out of the dash.

He wasn’t moody or angry but he had a reputation to uphold and you revelled in making it just that much harder for him. He wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of you knowing that you get under his skin.

He could still you out of the corner of his eye, watching as even though you were restrained by the seat belt you still grooved. He felt your fingers poke his shoulder, taunting him.

He didn’t even wait for you to fully put the car in park before he was hopping out, slamming the door behind him, “Get your ass out of here,” he jabbed an accusatory finger at you as he passed the front of the vehicle.

He could see the shit-eating grin from behind the windshield, and he couldn’t help the matching smile from spreading across his face. He shook his head and that finger switched to the middle one as he walked into a building.

Gaz

He would be coming back into the bar from getting some fresh air and when he walks in he is met with you pulling people onto the floor. The night was getting older and still no one had taken the leap so you took matters into your own hands.

This man wouldn’t skip a beat and would cheer you on. He would be cheering the loudest and would hype you up like no one else could. His energy would be infectious and the rest of the bar would follow suit.

He wouldn’t jump into the fray immediately, he would be content just sitting and watching while you work the bar. Elbowing the men around him and pointing to you, “That one’s mine,” he would announce proudly with a boyish grin.

All you would have to do is look for him (not even look at him, just the act of you looking for him would drive him crazy) and he would find his way onto the dance floor to join you.

His mom forced him to take a dance class in high school as an elective so this man can move. He would lead obviously, but he would keep to the genre of dancing you were doing before he joined. He would make sure you were comfortable and happy the entire time.

The two of you would stay on the dance floor for the next few songs. Till you are both sweaty and out of breath. Till your both giggle as you guys make your way to the bar for another drink.

+ Konig

At first, he would be completely content just watching you while leaning on the door frame. His arms crossed, biceps stretching the fabric of his shirt (he was doing this on purpose bc he knows you like it), and a wide toothy smile paired with the always there mischievous glint in his eyes.

You had come into the kitchen to clean and put stuff away but your soundtrack was coming out with banger after banger.

He always enjoyed watching you be carefree and encouraged it. In fact, he lived vicariously through your devil-may-care attitude. He wanted so badly to join you in these situations, but the fear of watchful eyes kept his feet firmly planted by the entrance.

He may understand English, but when it came to music he listened to the beat and melody more so than the contents. So when he caught a few choice words he tuned his ears in.

His eyes drop to your mouth and he begins to decipher the actual lyric. Reading your lips to aid him. His smile gives way into a confused frown, his eyes flicking to the speaker bumping the music into the room. His blue eyes would narrow, and his brows would knit together.

Next would be the rouge that creeps up from beneath his shirt to the tips of his ears.

Oh. Ohhh.

“Mein Gott, I have to go,” He would attempt to vacate the area as soon as possible. You’ve already taken note of his change and immediately grab at his arms. Wrapping your warm body around it and guiding him back into the room, sitting him down on one of the kitchen table chairs.

“Just enjoy the show,” you roam cheeky hands across and down his chest.

Maybe it was the fumes from the cleaning supplied or the music was influencing him but he obediently leaned back into the chair, spreading his legs to allow you more room.

Masterlist ❤︎ Tag List Form

A/N - sorry, i was gone for a little while i had a wee health scare 😗

Tag List: @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @dog55teeth ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes

#cod fanfic #mw2022 #mw2 x reader #call of duty #task force 141 #konig #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #soap mctavish #john soap mactavish #captian price #john price #konig mw2 #cod headcanons #call of duty headcanons #task force 141 headcanons #alejandro vargas #kyle gaz garrick #MistyGhosties

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oneforthemunny · 1 year ago

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Can I please request teacher reader buying Eddie flowers, or something that is low-key but ends up bringing him to tears because he feels so loved?

(He’s also totally the guy who saves every piece of the kids art from finger paintings to their little projects from school)

I hope you're ready for pain bitches (and by pain I mean such tender sweetness it will bring tears to your eyes)

It was a small promotion. Eddie had brushed it off like it was nothing, focusing more on the pay raise and diminishing the rest, but you wouldn't hear it. Squealing and wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tight to you as you rocked him back and forth with pure glee.

The superintendent had wanted to meet with Eddie, a fact that only a few hours earlier had him wracked with anxiety. Instead of the impending doom of being "let go" like he'd worried himself sick about, it was the opposite. A promotion.

The school needed to hire a maintenance worker for the middle school too, but the budget was tight. Not enough to pay an entire other salary, but enough to promote Eddie to janitor of the elementary school kids, and do some oddball maintenance work for them too. He supposed the time in the shop with Wayne had helped, the pay increase showed him that. The superintendent boasting on him about what a great job he did, they just needed more of him.

Eddie was thrilled, grinning when he told you, still a little shy and bashful about bragging on himself, promising that he'd finally get to take you and Oliver and Olivia on the vacation you deserved. You ignored his negative tone, cupping his cheeks and peppering his face in kisses. You were proud, so fucking proud. Beaming in adoration at him and he basked in it.

"Babe," Eddie called, plastic bags full of detergent and milk you'd sent him out for, kicking the door shut gently. "I got the stuff."

Eddie's ears perked, hearing the quiet shushing tones and tiny giggled from the kitchen. His brow raised, living room lacking tiny children watching cartoons or playing with toys.

Eddie called your name, fishing out his keys to sling them in the bowl, brows furrowed when he turned the corner. "Baby, are you-"

"Congratulations!"

Eddie startled, stepping back at the sudden sound, eyes rounding in surprise. The three of you, his tiny, perfect family, all stood in front of the kitchen table. Oliver on a chair, your hand on his back protectively, Olivia on your hip, clapping and gargling excitedly in her little baby blabber that always had Eddie's heart turning to mush. In the middle, a small pan cake. Strawberry frosting that read 'Congratulations Dad!' in sloppy frosting writing- no doubt Ollie's, judging by the sticky residue on his shirt.

"Look, Dad!" Oliver grinned. "We made you a cake!"

Eddie felt it coming, the burn of tears, throat constricting and strangling his words in his throat. "You did?" He lilted as best he could, clearing his throat lightly, too overcome with emotion.

"Uh-huh!" Oliver bobbed his head, too caught up in his own excitement to see how emotional Eddie was getting. "Mom let me break the eggs in, and-and stir it, and we both decorated it! Olivia tried to help, but she kept hitting it with her hands and it got everywhere." Oliver giggled, looking at his baby sister.

"We just wanted to say congratulations." You beamed, rubbing Olivia's back gently. "To show you how proud we are of you, and how happy we are for you."

Eddie pressed his lips together. He refused to cry. He couldn't. Not in front of the kids. "Wow." Eddie choked out, swiping at his nose as casually as he could. "I-I... I don't know what to say."

"Do you like it?" Oliver's voice was softer now, shoulders drooping in defeat.

"No, no!" Eddie said frantically, shaking his head. "I mean, yes. I just... I was really surprised." Eddie said genuinely, setting the bags down slowly. "And I am really thankful you guys did this all for me. So thank you." He nodded, jaw flexing to keep his tears from spilling.

"Congratulations, honey." You muttered, leaning up to press your lips to his in a short, sweet kiss over Olivia's head.

Eddie's hand found your cheek, stroking it lovingly, eyes swimming with emotion. Olivia squealed, squirming and reaching for her father, grabby hands at him that made Eddie smirk, hoisting her onto his own hip.

"Thank you, you guys." Eddie ran a hand over Oliver's head, pulling him closer to his chest. You beamed when you looked at them, Eddie's arm raising to let you in, so you were snuggled to his side, arm over Olivia's back, scratching Oliver's head gently. Eddie's lips pressed to your head, nose lingering over your scalp, breathing in the familiar scent of you to calm his emotions, heart swelling and bursting with love and pride. His little family.

#vivisblurbgame #oneforthemunny #janitor!eddie munson

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sombrashe · 1 month ago

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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆kinktober 2024⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

𓉸ྀི the glory hole confessional

𓉸ྀི Adam Faulkner-Stanheight

𓉸ྀི content gender neutral!reader, chubby!reader, glory hole, blowjob, reader and adam had a one night stand before

Huffing your loafers nearly have you slipping down the stairs. Skidding a little you use your grip on the handrail to keep from fully falling on your ass. Making your way down the stairs you enter the dim bathroom. Ignoring the blaring red flags that come from a bathroom like this you shove your way into a stall. Taking a few precious seconds you cover the seat in a wad of toilet paper. No part of you was touching that seat inadvertently or purposefully. When you feel comfortable with the barrier you created you can finally go. Not even a few seconds into your piss and you notice a decent-sized hole in the wall. Oh fuck, do not tell me my building has a glory hole. Finishing up you want to get out of there as fast as possible.

Going to leave you nearly shriek as a cock is pushed through the hole. You're just about to high-tail it out of there until you notice a dot on the tip of the cock. It was dark so it made it hard to see but you know that birthmark. Kneeling you make sure not to touch any part of the dingy stall. Reaching, you take a closer look and on further inspection, you definitely know this birthmark. This dude in your building took your picture one day last week and one thing led to another and ended with your ankles hoisted over his shoulders. Well hell, you might as well take the opportunity.

Dancing your fingers across his cock it brushes against the top of the hole and you have to grab it to keep it steady. He's already groaning and you chew on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. He was a lot more reserved when you had sex so it's nice to listen to him let go a bit. Lowering your head you take a moment to lick at the birthmark before you're sucking him into your mouth. Bobbing your head slightly unable to fully commit out of fear of bumping against the wall. Making sure to focus solely on his tip has him groaning out. His sounds have you growing a wet spot through your bottoms.

You let out a few small moans and deep groans, the vibrations sending shockwaves up his spine. He can't help the babbling that escapes his mouth. He's only slept with one person who focused this heavily on his tip most just trying to stuff as much of him down their throat as possible. He wondered if it was you down on your knees sucking him off. He was nearly pressed full body against the stall wall only his face hung back as he panted into the air. He can feel that coil in his abdomen starts to tighten. He can barely comprehend it before it's unwinding and he's cumming into your warm mouth. Breathing heavily to himself he pulls back and shoves his limp cock back into his briefs. It doesn't take you more than two seconds before you're barreling out of the bathroom and he hears the heavy door slam after you.

As you walk up the stairs back to your apartment you can't help but thank God for it being maintenance day.

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist | Other Characters Masterlist

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #saw #saw franchise #saw movies #saw smut #adam faulkner stanheight #adam smut #adam faulkner x reader #adam stanheight x reader #mia writes

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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The Gift Exchange I Top Gun Dagger Squad edition

Summary: The Dagger squad celebrates Christmas with their annual gift exchange.

Warnings: Fluff, humor, adult banter

Length: 1000 words

Pairing: a mention of Rooster x girlfriend

Masterlist for more fun

It was Christmas Eve, and time for the annual Secret Santa gift exchange before everyone dispersed to spend Christmas Day with their families. The Dagger squad met up at Bob's house with bottles of wine, along with their gifts.

"Welcome! Happy Holidays!" Bob greeted all of the aviators as they arrived. His jolly Santa hat was perched on his head. "Drinks and snacks are in the kitchen."

Phoenix kissed his cheek, making him blush, before she and Fanboy made their way to the kitchen.

"Should we raise the limit on how much we're allowed to spend on gifts for next year?" Phoenix asked, opening a bottle of wine. "Twenty bucks doesn't really seem like a lot when I always end up having to buy something for the most high maintenance one of you."

"Oh, you got Hangman?" Fanboy asked, pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Of course I got Bagman. I get him every year!" Phoenix complained. "Who did you get?"

"Coyote," Fanboy whispered to her. "And I never know what to get for him!"

Rooster and Payback wandered into the kitchen, grabbing drinks from the fridge. "Bob wants to open presents soon," Rooster said. "But I told him I'm going to need a few drinks first. This gift exchange never ends well."

"For real," Payback chimed in. "Why do we even do it?"

"To celebrate the spirit of Christmas! Ho Ho Ho!" Bob exclaimed. "Let's all go into the living room and exchange gifts!"

"Fine," Phoenix agreed, grabbing her expertly wrapped gift and taking it in. She sat on the floor between Rooster and Coyote, and she chugged her glass of wine.

"Last year, Coyote got me deodorant," Payback said. "The gifts this year couldn't be as bad as that."

"You needed it," the others all said in unison, but Payback just rolled his eyes.

"I'll go first!" Bob said, cheerfully handing a red and silver wrapped gift covered in glitter to Fanboy. "Merry Christmas!"

Fanboy took the gift with a smile. "Thanks, Bob," he said as he unwrapped it. But then his smile turned to a frown. "How many times do I have to tell you guys... I like Star Wars! Not Star Trek!"

"Sorry, I don't actually know the difference..." Bob said with a grimace.

Fanboy held up the Klingon action figure. "Oh well, I can probably glue on some felt and turn him into a Wookiee. Here, Coyote."

He tossed a gift bag to Coyote, and a plunger fell out onto his lap. "Seriously? It was just that one time, man!"

"You broke the damn toilet," Rooster said. "The locker room has never been the same."

"Yeah," Hangman agreed. "Great gift for you, honestly."

"Whatever," Coyote groaned, setting the plunger down and passing a gift to Payback. "Merry Christmas," he mumbled.

"Thanks," Payback said, unwrapping a pair of sunglasses. "Dude, I gave these to you for your birthday."

Coyote just shrugged. "I guess they actually are better than a plunger. Wanna trade?"

"No, thank you," Payback said, passing a box of condoms to Phoenix. "Sorry, I didn't have wrapping paper."

"What am I supposed to do with these?" she asked, cautiously taking the box from him. Rooster and Hangman were absolutely cracking up.

Payback just gaped at her. "Uh, have sex without getting pregnant?"

"I'm dating a girl, dickhead," she replied, looking around at the dumbest group of men she had ever seen.

"Ohhh, right. Right," Payback said, suddenly understanding his error. "Well if you don't want them, I'll take them."

"Sure, whatever," Phoenix mumbled, handing the condoms back to him. "Here Bagman, this is for you."

Hangman carefully tore into the gold and green paper, smiling brilliantly when he held up the gift Phoenix got for him. "A Malibu Ken doll! Looks exactly like me! Thanks, Phoenix!"

"You're welcome," she replied with a smirk, pouring some more wine.

Hangman procured a wrapped box from behind his back and passed it to Rooster. "Now, Rooster, I did have to go above the twenty dollar limit, but your girlfriend was begging me to get this for you." He was already laughing before Rooster even opened it.

Rooster looked at him with narrowed eyes as he unwrapped the box revealing an enormous purple dildo. "She did not ask you to buy this!" Rooster took it out and waved it around, and the others joined in with Hangman's laughter. "Nobody needs nine inches!"

Hangman and the others were still laughing when Rooster passed Bob his gift.

"Merry fucking Christmas," Rooster said, still brandishing the dildo at anyone who dared to laugh.

"Did you get me a 5-pack of beer?" Bob asked Rooster. "What happened to the sixth one?"

Rooster shrugged. "I got thirsty earlier."

Bob timidly asked, "Doesn't anyone here remember that I don't drink?"

"Oh, right. Well, hand them right back, my friend," Rooster told him, and he sat cradling the 5-pack and the dildo in his arms. "I'll take care of them for you."

"Why do we even bother doing this?" Phoenix asked. "We could all just go out for burgers together or something with our twenty dollars."

"It's the season for giving!" Bob tried to say, but everyone else just stood and started gathering up the gifts. He felt his smile falter a bit, feeling a little sad that he was the only one who loved the annual gift exchange.

But Bob watched as everyone shared a hug, genuinely wishing each other a happy holiday.

"Have fun with your nephews!"

"See you at the Hard Deck on New Year's Eve?"

"Bring some of that homemade pie back from Lemoore."

"Make sure you hug your mom for me!"

"Merry Christmas, Bob!" Everyone called as they left his house.

His heart felt full as he cleaned up the wrapping paper, wine glasses, and the purple dildo.

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

Thanks for reading! Happy Holidays!

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#top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun rooster #top gun imagine

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kmhnsecretexchange · 11 months ago

Text

Title: you can (we will) be better

Author: dedfish on AO3

For: logicdive (twitter) Pairings/Characters: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito

Rating/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Prompt: Post-Game — I feel like DR3’s ending for the cast of SDR2 is really underutilized, so it would be cool to see something going off of that! What’s it like having all these personalities crammed into a boat together to float around the ocean for the foreseeable future? It’s gotta get tense sometimes. How’s the sleeping situation? There can’t possibly be that much room in there, so maybe Hajime and Nagito are… roommates? Do they ever get off of that boat, and what kind of problems do they face with most of the world still thinking that they’re Remnants of Despair? Ships can be pretty dangerous places too, I can definitely imagine something going wrong… Lots of opportunity for hurt/comfort and relationship growth!

Author’s notes: this fic is set right after dr3’s anime, as dr2 cast+mitarai(i cant remember lore anymore) set out to sea!

i hope you all enjoy this fic! and logicdive i hope you like it too!!! (ahhhh sorry for the late post, i am still paranoid about the quality)

enjoy the fic :DD!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52595074

The scent of the sea breeze was sharp and unforgiving against Hajime’s nose. When they made the Ultimate Hope, they didn’t exactly take any considerations for their new Izuru’s comfort, expecting a machine of pure talent. Expecting Izuru.

It wasn’t like any of those scientists had gotten their own payback in the Tragedy, and grudges weren’t meant for those already long dead—long gone to whatever hell they belonged. But his sharp senses—the feeling of coolness untouched by the pollution of the Despairs against the morning’s sun—was wonderful, for a short second. And then he turned around.

Teru had managed to convince the crew to haul out a grill on deck, of all things. The plans for a celebratory barbecue were obviously in the works, fondness escaped through a small smile, but for a second, he wished it wasn’t there, the smoke annoying.

What was he thinking? He was glad that his friends could even celebrate in the first place. Their weary smiles—all of them except… Chiaki—were worth it. Even if the scent was truly awful, fat sizzling with greasy coals.

Nagito’ s presence swished into being a couple feet away, and Hajime waited until his footsteps echoed closer, before he turned around slowly.

His hair—it truly looked like clouds—bobbed along with a muted, yet not any less, cheerful smile. Happiness suited him, and Hajime let a smile out in response, waving a little.

“A toast, Hajime?” He asked, nodding to the drinks beside him. But they were—

“Cider?” Hajime leaned forward, the apples and cinnamon delicious on the wind, a relief.

Nagito let his grin fall into a half-quirk of a small smile, “Of course. How lucky I guessed a drink you would like, huh?”

Hajime couldn’t think of anything to say besides a grateful, quick thanks, and gladly took it from his hands. The mechanical one whirred, almost soundlessly, as Hajime brushed against cold metal. Nagito noticed his look, and he sighed.

“Is it truly that unsightly, Hajime?” He questioned, leaning against the ship’s railing. His coat clinked against the metal.

“No, no, it’s great—I was just wondering if we need to do maintenance—” Hajime quickly tried to backtrack, feeling his ears go bright red. Hajime of all people, making others self-conscious—

“Haha, I’m just joking,” Nagito smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and he tilted his head against the sunrise, “but there you are.”

“Ah… that’s good,” the unspoken question hanging in the air between them. Hajime wondered if he asked, would it be too awkward?

“I was worried about you standing on the sidelines,” Nagito answered, surprisingly intuitive, “because, you know, you did great. And whenever Izuru used to be… bored, he looked like you.” He met Hajime’s eyes, before looking away.

“Thank you, Nagito. Really.” His denial hung at the end of sentence, but it would be a lie if he really didn’t just feel like an outsider. Just sometimes. “How much do you remember of… us? Me.”

“Enough.” He raised the glass to his lips, the light catching against crystals, and Hajime looked away. Hajime caught a sly smirk from the corner of his eye, and suspiciously glanced over, “I can, from what I remember—the hope inside of both of you, truly—it was fantastically—”

“Not again! Jeez, man. That came out of nowhere.” Hajime groaned, thunking his forehead against the railing, exasperatedly fond. He didn’t predict that today.

A chuckle rang out, low-toned but clear, besides him. Hajime tilted his head up, and watched the weak, golden sunlight play across his half-smiling, crescented seaglass eyes.

Beautiful. Wait, no, not like that! He firmly planted his face in his arms, determinedly ignoring his traitorous thoughts.

“I hope to surprise, Hajime,” Nagito’s elbow brushed against his. The ship slowly rocked against a wave, the sea’s spray crushingly loud. They had long sailed, and the journey away from the Foundation’s base had already been charted.

The silence was… nice.

And if Hajime could crystallize this moment—Ibuki’s laughter and Hiyoko’s dancing and Kazuichi’s whines and Sonia’s scolding with Tanaka’s musings for Imposter’s worry mixing into Mitarai’s giggles, Nagito’s contentment—it would be perfect.

He hoped this would be his future.

—

If Hajime had raised his head, or just looked up, he would see Nagito’s wistful tenderness, looking down on him.

He would see the slight, soft smile—but no, not yet. That was for the future too.

—

“Um, hey guys,” Hajime winced at how unsure he even sounded, “you… feeling good?” He glanced around the banquet table, attempting to plaster on confidence.

Everyone stared back at him. Hiyoko snorted, slapping Mikan’s shoulder.

“Are we a kindergarten class, you moron?” she grinned, lifting up an eyebrow.

“I certainly hope not,” Imposter whispered, barely audible. Mitarai weakly grinned and patted his shoulder.

“Ibuki feels amazing! This is a rocking boat!” Ibuki smiled, chin on her hands.

“Um… ah… yes? I agree?” Mikan uncertainly chimed in, still confused, with Hiyoko rolling her eyes.

Hajime sighed, smiling. He leaned back against the wall, and forcibly told himself to relax.

“Your complaints are noted, guys.” He briefly noticed Nagito’s white, fluffy hair from the corner of his eyes. Relax, Hajime, relax. You’re an Ultimate. “So, with the Future Foundation, we need to decide our next steps together. The way I see it, we can essentially go through with two options: Jabberwock… or back to Japan. Mixing both would be difficult, but also possible. I want all of our opinions to count.”

“Going back? But… we released that video… I mean, do I count? As part of you guys?” Mitarai asked, bags under his eyes seemingly deepening even further.

“We discussed this, commoner. Yes,” Imposter switched back to Byakuya, “you count as part of our class.”

“Yeah,” Haijime nodded, “you definitely count. The best way for us to figure this out is by discussion, but I think holding a vote would be helpful. Sonia, any suggestions?”

“Why, indeed! I think democracy is a novel idea that I certainly would love to experience!” Sonia’s eyes lit up enthusiastically, her smile beaming. However, her expression turned serious quickly. “Hajime, we should decide later, as we all, especially you, deserve rest.”

“Ha, yeah. I’ll… I mean, I think we had a good day today.” Hajime replied, a little sheepishly.

“And we’re back on a ship again!” Ibuki cheered, pumping up her hands. Chaos immediately descended, everyone’s chatter excited.

“How shall we decide on rooms?”

“Heh, how devilish. My Dark Devas and I desire to room with Sonia herself.”

“Huh? No way! We can room with the opposite gender? I refuse.”

“I AM FINE WITH WHOEVER! BAHAHAHA!”

“He’s gonna clog up our toilet again… anybody but him!”

They were kindergarteners.

“Guys,” Hajime sighed, “everyone can room with whomever they want. Not my business, but both parties have to approve. And first come, first serve for rooms.”

“Hajime… soul bro! I understand, I won’t let this chance slip by!” Kazuichi’s tears were a little excessive, but he marched off towards Sonia, obviously shooting to get a room with her.

The ruckus in the room reached new heights of noise, as everyone started pairing up. Hajime watched Tanaka and Kazuichi start arguing, and suddenly, he felt very, very tired. He slid down into a chair and felt a soft tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, you were pretty quiet today too,” Hajime cracked a small, sincere smile. Nagito rolled his eyes.

“I spared everyone the torture today.”

“No, we like hearing you talk.”

“We? I’m not sure if that’s true. Mahiru holds grudges, from what I remember, and I’m sure Fuyuhiko believes me to be strange. Oh—Teru can hate me, though.”

“Even so, that doesn’t mean we want you to shut up. They… changed, they don’t hate you,” because that would mean they would hate themselves for their actions too. “You can trust me when I say you should talk to them too. They’re pretty awesome.”

“Aha… I know. But you’re very kind,” Nagito responded quietly, “and… do you have a roommate yet?” Hajime looked up, opening his mouth to respond—

“Soul bro… you wanna room? Tanaka, that prick…” Kazuichi grumbled, dropping down next to him with a sigh. He looked incredibly disappointed. Hajime could guess what had happened.

“Kazuichi, I think I already have—”

Kazuichi’s eyes opened wide, jumping back and forth between Nagito’s hand and Hajime’s shoulder. A slow smile crept across his face.

“Oh. Ohhhh, I see, finally—not bad, Hajime, heh. I want you to know I support you.”

“I—what did I do? Finally?” He asked, confused. He turned to Nagito, who seemed equally as confused, judging by the furrow between the eyebrows. Kazuichi looked both elated and resolved, and about to burst into tears at any moment now.

“You don’t need to say anything, bro. You’ve got this—a bit of a… unique guy, but I can see it! Congratulations to you too, Nagito!” Kazuichi laughed, clapping them both on the back.

He turned to leave, but not before he turned to Hajime, mumbling, “And… Hajime? Erm, I’m glad you two figured it out—I was so oblivious…” Hajime just blinked, confused, “Of course, he wasn’t even interested… the girls’ swimsuits…”

He trailed off, sounding disgruntled even as he passed Hajime’s hearing range. Hajime didn’t know what to think, really.

Was there some miscommunication? It didn’t seem harmful, though, so that was excusable.

“Hajime, what just happened to him? He was weirder than usual.” Nagito’s expression twitched into an automatic smile, before falling into bewilderment. He grimaced, before he opened his eyes wide, turning ever-so-slightly pink. “Hm.”

Now, even Nagito? He was definitely missing something.

“No idea, honestly,” he stared after Kazuichi, watching him as he jerkily scooted near Nekomaru’s booming laughter.

“Then, well, would you still like to room, Hajime? I understand if I make you uncomfortable—of course, you might want to be with someone else, perhaps—I don’t want to make you do something out of obligation—”

“Of course, I want to.” Those words felt unexpectedly genuine, in a way that Hajime had difficulty adjusting to. Taking a deep breath, Hajime held out his hand. “Luggage? I don’t know where you kept yours.”

“Mm, it’s on deck. I can get it.” The breeze picked up, swirling the slight saltiness of the sea past him.

“No, please, don’t bother, Nagito. I haven’t had the time to adjust your hand yet—or do any maintenance checks for heavy weights—”

The sudden, bright burst of laughter that followed was beautiful, and it took his attention way too fast. Concerningly, it made him go blank for a second—like he was reacting, instead of knowing what and when and why and all possible escape routes and who was doing what and the Ultimates and he was the Ultimate.

It was… nice.

Nagito grinned, a small but genuine peek of joy, “Thank you, Hajime. We can do that after I get my stuff, okay? Don’t worry, Mr. Leader of Despair.”

“You…ugh… lovebirds! Get a goddamn room!” Fuyuhiko screamed, startling Hajime to attention. Had everyone else heard that?

Nagito went a bright red, like he was sunburned for a moment, before—

“Says you, baby gangster. Peko, he totallyyyy ruined the moment,” Hiyoko complained, poking Peko’s arm.

“I agree. I will remove him from this scene to let… that continue. Master? Let’s pick out our room, instead.” Fuyuhiko grumbled, but ultimately went off with Peko without another glance.

Hajime awkwardly scooted off to the side, feeling a bit embarrassed himself. He was not paying attention at all.

“Nagito?”

“Hm?” His face was still a little red, but it had settled into the impassivity he had held before. That face… was…

Maybe it was best if they left. Everyone seemed wrapped up in their own choices, and it wasn’t like they were malicious, anyways.

He looked around, and no one was appearing to pay attention anyways, wrapped up in their own laughter watching Peko drag Fuyuhiko across the deck.

“Can we leave? Please?”

“Of course. Let’s do that—come on,” Nagito muttered, pulling on his arm in an uncharacteristic show of force. Hajime let himself be dragged to the open door, the wide sea still glinting blue.

He could resist. No one could beat him with his extraordinary talents. They were good enough to pull him away, to stop, to put some distance.

The Nagito in front of him was far, far better, though. Hajime followed, feeling his voice swept past him from the ocean’s winds.

—

“This place is nice,” Nagito smiled, tracing patterns on the mattresses.

The room was actually quite nice—cruise-worthy for sure, and definitely a good holdover until they decided where they would go. A thin breeze fluttered between the door, ruffling Nagito’s hair slightly. He averted his eyes; the feeling in his chest didn’t feel friendly, but not angry, either.

“I know, the Foundation gave us a good one.”

“Mhm.” Nagito bent down over the bunks, curiously leaning over the edges.

“Find anything?”

“Nope, haha, but it looks like they definitely need an Ultimate House—sorry, Janitor here. Ah,” Nagito winced and so did Hajime. Should he say something? He was the de facto leader after all, he should such address emotional vulnerability—

“You know, it’s totally fine to talk about her. She was… our—your teacher.” Hajime stared at the floor, but lifted up his gaze to Nagito’s pause.

“Then, if you don’t mind hearing, Ms. Chisa… I thought she came out safe. All those years ago, with the Foundation, once she left us,” Nagito slowly said, turning around.

“I knew you guys liked her a lot, right?” Haijime asked, feeling himself mechanically go through the motions of unpacking. He turned away; somehow, it was easier to ask when they didn’t have to address anything they said, without facial expressions that Hajime couldn’t control well.

“She brought us together,” a shuffling sound echoed through the room, “when no one else could. In part, she’s the reason—the reason why the good of us is here today. She made us into a real class.”

A seagull screeched in the distance, interrupting Hajime’s train of thought. He spoke almost automatically.

“I see. That’s completely valid, but,” And then, as a quick afterthought, “None of you guys did anything. She… the real one you guys knew… probably died in the Tragedy.”

“Yeah. We did a lot of dying.” Nagito forced out a short, painful laugh, and Haijime smoothed out a corner of his bedsheets, gathering his thoughts.

“You don’t get to say that… with us around. Either way, on the island or with the Future Foundation, we’ll make it up for the rest of our lives.” He watched as a sliver of moonlight fell onto his hands.

At least his hands were unscarred. Nagito’s soft noise of agreement rocked them into the quiet of the cruise.

“You want to go on a walk later, Hajime?”

In response, his heart almost jumped to his throat, and he felt unexpectedly flustered. What was wrong with a simple question, it didn’t mean anything besides an offer of spending time together. They walked plenty on the island, why this reaction now?

Still panicking, he replied hastily, “Tomorrow, maybe? I’m, uh, feeling sleepy. We did a lot today.” He internally face-palmed and whirled around to… stare at nothing.

“Of course. I’ll explore the ship tonight, ” Nagito patted his shoulder, almost nonchalantly, and raised an eyebrow at his stutter, but left it alone. “Goodnight, Hajime.”

“Goodnight, I guess,” Hajime called behind him, hopefully casual. He stared after him, as Nagito brushed past the door.

What was wrong with him?

—

He doesn’t sleep at all.

And for Nagito? He slips into the room at approximately whatever-o-clock, quietly rustles for a couple minutes, and doesn’t sleep either, judging from constant turning.

They stay awake, until Nagito falls asleep an hour later. Hajime doesn’t.

—

Hajime stared at the ceiling. Was he supposed to get up now? It was already morning—the windows told him that much.

He wasn’t sleepy, though. It didn’t feel close to his limit at all—according to Izuru’s memories, there wasn’t exactly a hard limit to the amount of sleep the Ultimate Hope needed.

Subhuman, huh.

Nagito rustled underneath his covers, quietly moving. He was probably awake by now too.

“You awake?” Hajime quietly whispered. If he was truly asleep, Hajime had regulated his volume to not wake him up, hopefully. Nagito huffed quietly, and he turned around, smiling.

His hair was even fluffier than usual, spread out upon the sheets, and haloing his bright, green eyes.

“Nah, of course I’m not awake. But hey, Hajime. You look… tired.” Nagito’s contented expression waned slowly, as he scanned his face.

“I didn’t get to sleep much.” Hajime smiled sheepishly, sitting up and running his hand back through his hair. “I did get some sleep though.”

“Whatever the Ultimate Ultimate says.” He shrugged, seemingly relaxed. “If you’re not too sleep-deprived, how’re you thinking of a short walk? I heard it’s good for you.”

“The Ultimate Nurse, Pediatrician, and Psychologist certainly seem to think so,” Hajime smiled, gesturing out to the hallway, part of him aching to those words.

The hallway’s carpet muffled their steps, making everything that much quieter in the face of dawn. A new day.

“Do you have anywhere in particular you’d like to see? Future Foundation spared no expense on whatever cruise ship this used to be.” Nagito’s hair bobbed along every step they took, almost beige in the lamplights.

“Not particularly. I can guess how most designers would want anything.” His footsteps were always quiet anyways. He tried to deliberately make them louder, to match Nagito’s. “One thing I learned from all this is,” Nagito smiled, turning to face Hajime, “never say you know everything about anything.” His shoulders bumped against his, and Hajime narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Mhm, sure, All-Wise-And-Knowledgeable.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Nagito’s hand seemed only a whisper away and Hajime almost wanted to reach out, “but whatever floats your boat.”

“You dork.”

“The trashiest dork.” The weak sunlight brought a rose-gold tint upon everything and—well, everyone. The entire cruise ship seemed much more peaceful and calm, and Hajime could see why people got up early. On purpose, though, ugh.

“I believe that.” He joked. Hajime glanced down over the railing, watching the murky, deep blue waters. It reflected the ship’s paleness, and it was nice, too. Maybe. It looked scary, though.

“Come on,” Nagito motioned over to a glass door, “we aren’t going to brood near the sea today.”

“Aw, no,” Hajime rolled his eyes fondly, but he followed along anyway, “brooding, my favorite activity.” And, “Where are you taking me?” Hajime questioned slowly, watching the green coat bob from side to side.

Did he have a million of those? How did he manage to keep all his coats from Jabberwock?

“Well, as a part-time Ultimate, I found a pretty cool spot when I looked around last night,” Nagito turned into a smaller, more dim hallway, “and it really was quite, ha—lucky ultimately. And hopeful.”

Finally, he stopped suddenly at a simple, wooden door, where Hajime might’ve crashed into him, if he hadn’t had experience with Nagito leading him around anyways. He still almost tripped, though.

“You could be an Ultimate Joker too, with that,” Hajime groaned, slapping his forehead. How did he get stuck on a ship with this guy?

Well—rhetorical question.

“What?” Nagito frowned, opening the door. “I found it quite funny in my head.” He looked so disappointed, Hajime almost felt bad—key word, almost. But—ugh.

“It was super, erm, creative, though? I… don’t really know what else to say about it though, it just falls… sort of flat.” Hajime tried, okay.

This was exactly why he left the compliment business to literally anyone else.

“And—ow, wait, why did you stop?” Hajime grumbled, rubbing his forehead. Nagito’s hair was surprisingly fluffy.

Kinda cute.

No, no, stop this, no—not right now. He was not having those thoughts right now.

“Because we’re here, of course!” Nagito steered him to his side, happily staring around him. “I call it the Cruise of the Tough, Traumatized Ultimates: There’s a Garden!”

Real trees—a scattering of bonsai, with lavender circling around what was evidently an artificial spring of water—that were fashioned to look like an artificial garden, flowing around pebbles and drapes of flowering vines.

They stood on marble, a paved walkway winding around the sauna, with overgrown lavender and mosses peeking out between the cobblestones. In this world—in this time, it was almost untouched by the outside world.

It hadn’t been torn down by Despair, or tainted by it. A luxury even Jabberwock couldn’t count as.

…but it was tainted by a bit too much algae, judging from the thin green film across some of it. And also, what was that name Nagito just said?

“What the heck did you just call this?” Hajime blinked once. Before blinking again. He definitely heard that right.

“Hm? You mean there’s a garden? …I called it a garden.”

“With a couple other words, I think. But… I mean, thanks for showing me this. Pretty good luck, I’d say.” Hajime’s cheeks hurt. When had he broken into such a huge smile?

Nagito beamed widely, before nudging Hajime’s side. “My present for you! You’ve seemed down lately.”

“…ah. I can’t argue against that, but I thought—with the ship being down for so long, any plants would’ve been cleared out for Foundation preservation.” Hajime walked closer towards the lavender, poking it. It shook slightly.

“I thought so,” Nagito’s agreement echoed slightly. “Luckily, they missed a spot.”

The quiet peace of the impromptu visit was nice, broken only by the occasional gurgling of the spring’s waterways. It was probably clogged as hell, Hajime considered it a miracle the seawater was still being recycled back and forth, in whatever system the ship used to use for first-class passenger entertainment. Maybe he could clean it—he might as well, with all the free time they would have. With either decision.

The lavender’s buds brushed against his hands, and Nagito’s shoulders visibly relaxed. His shoulder bumped against Hajime’s, as he leaned against him. It strangely did feel casual—nice, although Hajime did notice his heartbeat speed up.

Ever so slightly, but still.

“Really, I’m glad you showed me this… Nagito. I’m happy to see this, honestly—especially since you found this place on our cruise ship?”

“Yes, of course. And what are best friends for?” Hajime stared up at Nagito, shocked. Best friends?

“We’re best friends… yeah. Uh, yeah,” Hajime felt like he was back in those earlier days before the game, stuttering and bright-faced in the face of Nagito’s friendship, “But how can I even beat this? This is… amazing.” Hajime felt like he was violently going to explode from… embarrassment, was that it?

“You don’t need to compete with me for something we both share, Hajime,” Nagito’s eyes were bright and knowing with… something, “And I just wanted to give you a place I knew to relax, sometimes. Especially with everyone deciding between Jabberwork and—”

Nagito was probably going to be the strangest best friend he had ever had. Kind of the most insane one he’d ever known, but hey. He wasn’t much better.

And—he had wanted to ask Nagito something else as well.

“Well,” Hajime rolled his eyes and turned towards Nagito, “Do yourself a favor and take breaks with me too. You hypocrite—I have no idea what thoughts go on up there.”

“Says you, leader. And kind of the whole reason we’re all alive in one—haha, mostly—hopeful piece.” He joked. Nagito elbowed him slightly, the only tell for his humor in his slight, barely noticeable smirk.

“I can’t take all the credit, you know that. What you did in the game—” Hajime tried to clarify, noticing Nagito’s expression cool.

“—what I did in the game was not… hope—argh. You know that.” Nagito’s cheer turned more strained, as he noticeably stiffened. Tension snapped into place, the atmosphere growing cold.

“I know. I’m not making excuses. I know you did terrible things, and I’m electing to also consider what good you did do,” Hajime replied, feeling slightly… angry. He didn’t want him talking about himself like that. Nagito’s arm whirred beside him as he stood up—the lavender crunched underneath him.

“I can’t do this right now, Hajime,” Nagito murmured. Tiredness overshadowed his posture, his expression cold and… terrified. “I’ll call it an early night. I’ll see you later.”

His footsteps sounded all the way to the door, before it screeched open. Nagito paused for a second, before he continued into the hallway. The footsteps disappeared then, too.

“I’ll… see you, too,” Hajime told nothingness. The door swung shut, creaking back awkwardly.

“I just… I wanted to make him feel better, at least. And, it’s not like I’m wrong—ugh, why am I like this…” Hajime buried his head in his hands, closing his eyes.

Everything just felt off. Wrong. Or maybe he was the one who was weird, instead. What was even wrong with him?

First, the isolation he felt from everyone else—that was understandable, things changed after he split with Izuru. His emotions—they kept on malfunctioning at unrelated situations. Now, his ability to even talk with his friends?

“What’s even going on?” He groaned. He raised up his head, squinting at the lavender.

The lavender rustled back, like that was supposed to be an answer.

“And why the hell am I talking to a plant!”

—

“Well, um… I don’t think you’re compromised by puberty or anything else physically? And, um, mentally, you’re still the same from our previous check-ups—I can ask for an evaluation by a psychiatrist from the Foundation. You—you probably don’t have anything wrong, still?” Mikan half-questioned, half-commanded. She flipped through his records on a clipboard, looking uncharacteristically serious.

She then looked back up. “W-What do you think you’re struggling with, Hajime?”

“I get like these… palpitations. I also get… emotional at weird times? I normally don’t feel much of anything, though,” Hajime responded, staring at his hands. He squinted at his shoes—they kinda looked dirty. And the clock was ticking. And what was this weird therapy roleplay?

Mikan blinked, slightly incredulous. “I… You’re supposed to feel emotions, n—normally. But, of course, Izuru—I would consider that as a good sign, that you’re feeling that. That you’re feeling, at least. More concerningly, moving on… when do you get these palpitations?”

Hajime sighed, slamming his head down on the table. It barely hurt. “Okay, that part’s fine—but for the interruptions, I have no idea! It just happens whenever. And I don’t think there’s a physical factor to that.”

“I read about this kind of situation! Ahaha… um… is it around… a certain guy? Maybe?” Mikan looked side to side, before leaning in. “Perhaps… Nagito?” She blushed violently, visibly excited. Was she really that interested?

“No… wait, maybe yes. It could be the feelings of friendship? But I don’t feel it around Kazuichi, or anyone else.”

Mikan blankly stared at him, before she slapped her forehead. “O—Of course. Of course, it’s and then they were roommates here. I’m literally—get out.” Her expression turned dark, almost angry, shadows looming over her eyes. She suddenly looked very much like an Ultimate Nurse… and ha… he felt like he was in danger.

“What do you mean? Get out? Wait, but you didn’t tell me why—”

“Go and talk to your best friend, Hajime. I s—swear, jeez,” Mikan rolled her eyes, looking less uncertain, “So that was the i—issue.”

“Mikan… your sarcasm, I don’t really get it—” Hajime raised his hands, flinching back from her annoyance.

“Then you don’t deserve to get it, I’m s—surrounded by the dumbest Ultimates ever.” She slammed her clipboard down on the desk, shaking in anger. “And talk to him! You adorab—agh, idiots.”

“But he got angry at me? I tried to talk about his actions in the game, and he kinda just left? I don’t know what happened!” Hajime, flustered, tried to ask. He needed to figure out what to do to fix this.

“O—oh, see now, that’s important. But still—go find him! Komaeda always likes to talk with you, and he’ll understand if you honestly just talk about it. Kids, I swear,” Mikan grumbled, before straightening up with an almost manic energy. She started shoving Hajime to the door, smiling menacingly behind him.

Shocked, Hajime could only follow along, before remembering, “And—wait! I’m bad at this stuff, what do I—”

And the door shut right in front of him. He sighed, as Mikan’s giggling faded with her retreat into her and Hiyoko’s room.

“Everyone’s insane, why did I even try.” Hajime groaned, trudging through the hallways. Time… to find Nagito. —

“Hey, Nagito? You okay to talk?” Hajime asked, slowly approaching Nagito on the ship’s deck. The evening’s sun flitted briefly over the clouds, before hiding behind the clouds again. He looked… lonely.

No better time than the present to get it over with.

“I am, of course. I would like to first apologize—” He started.

“I’m really sorry—”

“Oh.”

“Ah… yeah, both of us, I guess. But truthfully, you did nothing wrong, you… meant to say it from a sincere perspective. I reacted strangely… I just needed space.”

“I still brought up something you were uncomfortable with. And the game is a sore spot for all of us—I don’t blame you either, Nagito.” Hajime sheepishly smiled, rubbing the back of his head.

Nagito flashed a small smile in response, before falling back into seriousness yet again, “Still. I think we can both accept each other’s apologies?”

“Of course, yeah. Mikan literally pushed me out of her room—it was funny. ” Hajime grinned, before throwing an arm around his shoulder.

Nagito stiffened visibly, before asking, “And why—why were you in her room?”

“To ask her how to apologize to you. She was kinda weird though.”

“A—Ah, of course.” Nagito turned a slight shade of pink, looking slightly embarrassed. “I have no idea what got into me.”

“Um, yeah. Don’t worry—a common misunderstanding—you’re still definitely my best friend.” Hajime clapped his shoulder, grinning at him. Jeez, Nagito did overthink sometimes.

“Ah—yeah, best friends.” Nagito smirked, raising his eyes to the sky. “Best of friends. I’m fine with that for now.” He meaningfully looked back at Hajime, but what was that… undertone?

“I’m glad, honestly. You are. But also… I wanted to ask about you wanted to do? As well?” Hajime continued, trying to not read too much into that. Was it just him… or was that kind of… nah. Probably not, ha!

“Go ahead. Is this about where we’d head from here? For Jabberwock or back to Japan?”

“Oh, yeah. I think we’re going to meet up for it tomorrow… I just wanted to hear what you thought first.” Nagito nodded, seemingly deep in thought.

“Well, I’m for Jabberwock… actually. I don’t think what we did can ever be… redeemed. Or forgiven. And I don’t want to lose all of the class again so soon. Is it surprising?” Nagito smiled, looking down to the waves crashing against the ship. “You might’ve expected more from me—I do want consequences, but not at the cost of our lives.”

“That’s… I’m glad to hear that. It was honest.” Hajime murmured, lost in thought. He glanced at Nagito’s regretful smile. “But I was thinking about Jabberwock—and it might not be such a great idea after all.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“We’re only alive because of the Foundation’s grace—from the killing game we saw happening, it’s obvious the Foundation’s still unstable.” Hajime winced at the thought of Mitarai and the board member’s plan. “We owe them a lot, and hiding in Jabberwock while the world thinks we masterminded it all… it’s a good short-term plan, but it won’t last. Just like how we can’t blame Junko for everything we did, we can’t be blamed for everything the Foundation did.”

He looked out into the sea, watching as a seagull swooped on the horizon.

“It all gets out eventually.”

Nagito nodded approvingly, shifting towards Hajime. He let out a quiet breath of laughter, before glancing up.

“I see… you’re not wrong. I wouldn’t want the Foundation’s masterminds to escape infamy so easily either—but you propose we… go back to Japan? We will most likely get killed.”

“That’s my struggle as well. I don’t know how I can lead the class on this.” Hajime sighed.

Nagito’s eyes lit up, suddenly. He excitedly whirled around, “Not if we wait. Not if we let the world rebuild itself first. Why did we think we had two options in the first place? Since when did we let those options choose our lives?”

“That is… true. I had only thought that because…”

“Exactly, because we thought we were faced with either being cowards or getting sent to our deaths. But that’s not the case—the Foundation can bring us back from Jabberwock whenever we want.”

“Wait—yeah! If we take credit for the Foundation’s killing game for now…”

“… We can simply expose the truth of the incident later. We’ll face consequences, rightfully, for what we did do. And not only that—we’ll share what happened to us—how Junko messed us up.”

“We can’t let the world think those in despair were responsible for their actions… the brainwashing… What Hope’s Peak did ensure is that we should never have a Hope’s Peak again, but the Foundation didn’t learn from that because they refused to learn—they refused to look away from talents as the ultimate source of all Hope.”

“Especially what they did to you. And to Izuru. Talent shouldn’t ever be made like that again—and the public should know that. Hajime, what they did to you sucked.” Nagito scoffed, placing his hands on the railing.

Hajime laughed, feeling freer the first time in days. He threw his arms around Nagito in their first, real hug, and his ridiculously fluffy hair tickled his nose. Nagito was so, so warm, and this was awesome—why didn’t they hug before? Nagito let out a small, choked noise, before hugging back, gently.

“You’re amazing, Nagito.” Hajime replied, muffled in Nagito’s hair. He let himself enjoy the warmth a little longer, before raising his eyes up to meet Nagito’s.

“… And so are you,” Nagito whispered, his expression peaceful, if not a bit flushed again. Was it the wind?

“Ah, we should probably get inside. But c’mon, let’s find everyone—we got to do something.”

“I-I thought this meeting was tomorrow?”

“Well, now, it’s not.” Hajime let go… a bit regretfully. He would’ve hugged longer, but Nagito was starting to look concerningly red. “Let’s round up everyone from their rooms—I’ll take whoever I find back down into the banquet hall.”

“… Were you also referring to, uh, me?” Nagito looked confused, concerned, strangely flushed, and somehow determined at the same time, before awkwardly pointing to himself.

Sorta cute. Erm, nope, not thinking about it, not thinking about it—

“Yeah, of course.” Hajime agreed, before gently elbowing him. “Who else?”

Nagito gasped, before spinning around, with a new fire of determination within his eyes. He immediately started walking inside, grabbing Hajime’s wrist. Hajime flailed around for a second, shocked.

“Wait—wait, uh, not that fast. You don’t need to rush?” Hajime questioned, still allowing himself to be pulled along for some—no reason.

“I’ll grab anyone I see. Let’s do this. Now.” Nagito was unusually fast now, almost running.

Hajime… felt like he excited him a bit too much, with those words maybe? He sighed, still half-smiling.

“Alright—but jeez… fine. Let me go, I’ll get to the left side.”

“I’ll do the right. Prepare to be amazed by my speed.” Nagito grinned threateningly, before turning around the corner. He let go of his hand, waving goodbye and almost immediately disappearing into the hallway.

Hajime groaned. This guy, seriously…?

… He was the dorkiest dork he had ever seen.

The best one, though. Not that thought, again? Was this puberty or something?

—

The banquet door slammed shut, and with that, Hajime had an entire class of slightly startled, disgruntled, oblivious, or surprised Ultimates. Except for Peko and Fuyuhiko. Hajime had no illusions as to whether anyone could drag them to wherever the pair didn’t want to be.

“Alright, guys. Sorry for the sudden meeting.”

“—Yeah, it was sudden, alright.” Akane grumbled. “Is there any food here? I’m hungry.”

“Oh, yes, here Akane! Would you like to try my—” Teru grinned, before reaching into his pockets.

“Nah. Pass.” She instantly declined. Hajime pointedly stared at the both of them, before slapping his forehead. These kindergarteners.

“—But, Nagito and I had a bit of a revelation regarding the cruise ship’s destination. For Jabberwock, or for going back to Japan. We wanted to ask you guys what you thought about it.

“… I see this couldn’t have waited?”

“Not really… but, I do apologize for getting you guys out here so late.” Nagito chimed in, looking relatively… unapologetic.

“It was perfectly fine! Most of us were just goofing around anyways… I speak for both myself and Mahiru…” Sonia replied, perfectly composed and kind.

“I was just playing pool…”

“I FINISHED TAKING A SHIT.”

“Hajime… just kinda interrupted Imposter and my, uh, anime. It’s okay! This sounds… more important.” Mitarai muttered, looking faintly anxious. Scratch that, very anxious, judging by how much fidgeting he was doing.

“Indeed, commoner. Now—let Hajime and Nagito speak. What do you two propose?” Byakuya-Imposter questioned, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, to put it simply,” Hajime looked around the room, making eye contact with each of his friends, “We don’t have to choose Jabberwock. Or the Foundation and Japan. Because, there’s a third option—to do both.”

“That would be ideal… indeed. But how?” Sonia questioned, raising herself from her chair.

Nagito nodded, raising a hand to his chin, “We can do so by splitting our time—to go back to Jabberwock now, and to go back to support the rebuilding of the world later on.”

“But—we should just return to Japan fully. If we truly want to support our victims—”

“Princess, that is not allowable by this dark one,” Tanaka turned towards Sonia, raising his eyebrow, “Seeing as that would result in our unfortunate demise, as my visions of the future warn.”

“Tanaka—I understand but, what we did, what I did to my people—” Sonia whispered, obviously heartbroken.

“No one’s dying today. None of us will be sacrificed.” Hajime interrupted, urgently stopping her from turning towards obvious shame, “Because we’ll go to Jabberwock to outwait just that. To let the Foundation stabilize the world, to prevent any further uprisings of Despair right now.”

“And,” Nagito smoothly joined in, “We will still allow the Foundation to take responsibility later. We’ll face our consequences—with the actual good we’ll be able to do, once we’re allowed into the rebuilding of Japan.”

“You’re just going to allow the Foundation to recover then? And then come back? But wouldn’t that undo everything—everything we did that video for?” Mahiru asked, quietly motioning to them all.

“That will undo it,” Peko seriously replied, “But that might be for the best. I do not wish for Fuyuhiko to be viewed as a monster… for that too.” She glanced towards Hajime meaningfully, then stared at Nagito, before she looked away.

Hajime… understood that feeling now. Not wanting someone to be deemed guilty—in reality too.

“I think it’s a great plan, as it lets us not be killed! Or run away, right, Coach?” Akane shouted excitedly. Nekomaru laughed, a booming sort of laughter that shook the room.

“INDEED! HAHA, WE CAN LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY!”

“But what if… we get sentenced to death anyways? After we rebuild the world… and we come back.” Ibuki quietly spoke up, uncharacteristically doubtful.

“Then, we’ll argue our case, and we’ll defend ourselves fairly.” Nagito put his hand on his hip, while narrowing his eyes, “Consequences—we can’t just ignore those. We also have an Ultimate Lawyer here. And the Ultimate Prosecutor, etc. …And I guess Class 78 with the Foundation will probably be willing to lend a hand. After all we’ve done.” He gestured to Hajime, who felt himself blush a little from the embarrassment.

“I’ll do my best… and I’d say, we probably have a fighting chance. Compared to what’ll happen if people find us hiding in Jabberwock, like… idiots.” Hajime sighed, leaning against Nagito’s shoulder. The future sounded tough.

“Ha… yeah… I think that sounds pretty good. And those Monokumas all across Japan, I personally wanna still go back…” Kazuichi responded, looking a bit defeated. Nekomaru patted his back, and almost knocked him over.

“Kazuichi…” Hajime whispered, almost feeling a little proud. He really had grown, huh. “And remember what we resolved at the end of the killing game?”

“We’ll keep on forging our own path to the future, you mean?” Fuyuhiko asked, furrowing a brow. “Of course.”

“Yeah, where we learn from our mistakes?” Akane laughed, emboldened.

“And we won’t hide from our actions.” Nagito’s quiet voice carried across the room, as he met Hajime’s eyes.

“Well, of course, nothing’s over then, right? We’ll have to say how everything happened,” Kazuichi muttered, somber. He raised his eyes towards Tanaka, who, curiously enough, nodded in response. There was definitely a story there.

“Haha… if you think about it, Hope’s Peak—they tried to hide everything, and it came up anyways,” Teru agreed, looking around nervously.

“An’ we can’t let them forget that! We need to remind ‘em of what happens when you do that stuff to talent—when you become Despair like that.” Akane’s mouth was completely full from the snacks, but she somehow managed to talk around it anyways.

“I sincerely agree. We should face our past, present, and future with open eyes—we shalln’t run away!” Sonia victoriously grinned, pointing her finger forward… at Mitarai? Unexpected—but all the more welcome for it, as Mitarai nodded violently.

“To be honest with you guys, I don’t even want to run away. And there’s no way I’m leaving Hajime to clean up our mess alone.” Nagito added, shifting closer to Hajime’s side

“Hehe, looks like lover boy is stuck—”

“Oh, Hiyoko! This is serious,” Mikan sternly reprimanded. She happily glanced at their intertwined hands, “…and we both,” Mikan smiled at Hiyoko, “will go back. To Jabberwock and Japan—Future Foundation—everything.”

“I’m glad. And Hajime,” Nagito peered through his eyelashes mock-shyly, “you’re coming to Japan with me, right? As my best friend?”

“Maybe,” Hajime started, before frowning, “well, actually—that’s a stupid answer. Of course.”

“But… still, thanks.” He whispered.

Did Nagito hear that—well, judging by his hand’s comforting squeeze, he did. And his gentle expression, and his pretty, teasing seaglass eyes—argh.

That bastard was so—ugh. Did best friends usually make each other blush and hold hands? Yeah, probably.

(“The gayest freaking besties I’ve ever seen… and then, they were roommates. Ugh,” Hiyoko grumbled.

“I know, that’s what I said!” Mikan whisper-shouted.)

As if hearing his thoughts, Nagito laughed quietly, before knitting their hands together. It was time to face everything and everyone, and he did feel terrified. His heartbeat was racing, pumping like it had in the trials—Nagito’s fingers were cold with anxiety. But, hey, with Class 77 all together?

Things were gonna be better.

#kmhnsecretexchange #submission #fanfiction #sfw #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #dr #sdr2 #dr3

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thehomophobe · 1 month ago

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Latest & Greatest Chapter 7: Superior Bots, Secondary Barrage, Super Besties

Through bustling streets and the chatter of people, you moved through the metropolitan underground. The GPS on your phone kept glitching in and out. (Wow. To this day and age, technology still has bugs.) You must've restarted your phone seven times after you left the hospital. You checked your messages to see if Vanessa ever responded back

(Y/N): Why? What do you need?

(Y/N): Where's the observation tower?

The messages on your phone was left alone and unresponsive. She didn't even leave you on read. She must be busy with whatever's going on at the tower.

Speaking of tower how is it so hard to find a tower in a city? Strike that, how is it hard for you to find a tower in a city? It's a tower for God's sake. Now you're here relying on your GPS on your shitty phone.

The screen glitched at you in jest. "Stupid thing." You cursed.

The app finally accepted defeat, allowing you to see the map clearly. The tower is just a few blocks down. Thank god! You thought you were turned around after all that fuss. You looked up from your screen, trying to pinpoint which tower is it. There's one made of glass with tinted windows covering the inside. There's one made of brick and mortar which was shorter than the rest. That one looks like a factory. It can't be the steel building on the left. Maybe the one with a satellites and electrical rods on top. No that probably the news broadcaster.

There's no point in guessing, you got to get moving fast before Vanessa yells at you.

So turns out the one with the satellites was the observation tower. You should've known. (Fucking dumbass) At least you didn't walk into the strip club that was neighbor it.

Inside the tower were dozen upon dozen of radios. And not the kind you would have outside on windowsill. We're talking ginormous radios, the size of the IBM, with large microphones and headphones connected brings thin brightly colored wire. The broadcaster wore brown and each sat next to each other, tuning in and tuning out of different channels. They would plug in one wire and take out another. Their words jumbled together in egregious harmony, all asking and responding to whoever was beyond the headphones. It reminded you of the radios used during WW2, where the communes would sit together in a cramped dark room telephoning the soldiers out on the battlefield. You couldn't make out a single word from anyone's conversations. It wasn't until a woman in a beige sweater vest, brown pants and a bob took off her headphones and swiveled her chair to face you.

"Can we help you?" She chided, adjusting her glasses. She looked at you like you're retarded.

"Dr. huh..." You don't remember Vanessa last name. "Vanessa asked me to come here for something important."

"Go up." She pointed to the elevator.

"Thanks." You said. She immediately puts her headphones back on and continued working. How sweet.

As you rose from the bottom, what was the common darkness later revealing the shining light of the metropolis. You could see the roofs of the suburban housings, the dusty gray tops of facilities and shops. The shopping district lit up like a golden coin in the ocean. The maintenance facility looked like a kingdom on the horizons. The citizens looked like ants in the dirt. It was nice; it probably looks even better at night, when all the shops have their lights to contrast with the dark. A view like that, and to share it with someone you love, what could be better.

Your quixotic dreaming stop when the artificial lights go out and the wall of darkness greets you again. The elevator slowed to a halt. You made it to the top.

The doors open. If you thought there was a lot of radios on the first floor, get ready for this.

Rows of radars and radios roll through the room. The screens were dark with different patterns and circles color coded, tracking and predicting things that you don't quite understand just yet. Their lights being the only reason you could see since the blinds covered the daylight. In the middle was a map of the global spotted with little red dots that moved like particles on a science simulation. The hologram was colossal; with the top floor being massive, it looked like an observatory. Well obviously, it's called an "observation tower" (Fucking dumbass).

"Where have you been?!" A familiar voice shouted. "I asked you to get here early and you just come walking in like a fucking dumbass."

"Hey! I texted you that I was coming. You never responded back!" You argued. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you proved your claim with evidence. The same two text were there followed by another one.

(Y/N): Found it.

"Ugh I can't even argue with you right now. Just come here." Vanessa ordered. Sadly you obeyed the scientist, even if she was a bitch.

"So what's up?"

"I've been analyzing your video, trying to accurately distinguish how far you searched. The factory line. Was there any reason you investigated it?"

"The survivor needed to find someone in there."

"Did you find them?"

"Like I said, we were attacked. The raptures flushed us out the doors before looked any further." Vanessa hummed at your response. "What's wrong?"

"I was concerning about the sudden rapture population. It increase by 3.89% in the past few weeks. That means the at least over 7 million raptures have inhabited the world by now, with here having about 1.2 million rapture across our territories."

...

Y-You weren't confused. You were just running the numbers...

"And?"

"And," Vanessa finagled with the hologram, zooming into the conquered areas the Final Nation acquired. Another button sorted the map into pieces, the territories the chief commanders had declared. "it has been reported that hoards--or as you said "hives"--of raptures have been inhabiting large spacious areas like factories and power plants." The map showed videos of other commanders: Schmidt, Conners, Baroulette, Fitzgerald and other surnames you've never heard of labeling the holographic map with their record data. You could catch the other androids in combat and investigating the ruins left on the world. "Squadrons were asked to bring home as much evidence as they can for the science center to compare. Pieces of raptures parts, strange machinery, any that didn't look man-made." You felt a little jealous. These commanders look so cool...way cooler than you did...

"What did you find?"

"That those rapture pieces are significantly stronger than the ones originally. Which means--"

"They're getting stronger?!" You completed her sentence.

"Exactly." Vanessa nodded. "Somehow, the steel we use here on Earth fused with the raptures' armor created a harder shell for them. Thus, it be harder for regular guns like ours to penetrate their bodies." She concluded. Guess the pistol you got from Beatriz is useless now.

"Does that mean the android fighter guns won't hit their shells as fast as before?" You asked, worried about your comrades.

"Yes, but the science center and the research lab planned for this enhancement. We've tested the new artillery already and donated it to all androids. The V.7 squadron was the last ones to get the upgrades." Vanessa commented. Well that's good. At least your squad won't be left behind.

"Speaking of those guys, I hope your keeping an eye on them." The researcher crossed her arms. "I'm not letting the science center and research fund the repairs for them. It's your responsibility so don't come crying to me when one breaks down." She chided.

"Of course. Thanks Dr. Vanessa." You smiled.

"Yeah yeah get out of here."

After pass by the glaring eyes of the telecommuters, you couldn't stop thinking about the raptures. "Somehow, the steel we use here on Earth fused with the raptures' armor created a harder shell for them." They figured out a way to fuse with our materials and now they multiplied even more.

And their spreading.

You remembered seeing the news broadcast showing dozens of raptures stampeding over people. The camera catches glimpses of their claws gashing through the flesh of people. The reporter had to shout because the screams of the people and the call of the military muted his voice. He shouted about the war, the monsters, the horror. The innocent lives of woman and children. The camera was splashed with human organs. And then pitch black.

*Rrr Rrr*

Hm?

You pick up your phone. A red notification alerted your messaging. A new but familiar person popped up on your screen, greeting you with a warm message.

Freddy: Hello Commander!

(Y/N): Freddy?

Freddy: I am glad you responded to my message. I was worried you would "leave me on read."

You swore he had to be a dad in his past life.

(Y/N): I wouldn't do that to a friend.

You were half-lying.

(Y/N): Did you need anything?

Freddy: I came to ask where is your location and if you were not busy at the moment.

(Y/N): I just came out of the observation tower. And I'm not busy.

Freddy: That is great Commander (Y/N). The concern is about Daya and their living quarters.

Daya? Who's Daya?

Wait...

(Y/N): Daya?

Freddy: Yes. Daya Panaglan, the survivor we've rescued from our first mission together. They have been properly healed from their ailment and lefted the hospital.

Freddy: They wanted me to speak to you about their new living quarters here in the plex.

Oh shit. You completely forgot about that. You meant to return to your place and find a vacant place for her. It wasn't until Vanessa called for you when you got sidetracked. And you can't you use your phone to open the browser. (God you really need to fix your phone. Or get a new one.) You're surprised the messaging app even works.

You didn't respond to Freddy's text, unsure how to answer him.

Freddy: Commander?

(Y/N): Yea Im still here.

Freddy: That is good. Daya would like to speak to you as well.

Oh god. The hell are you gonna say? "Hey sorry you gonna have to live on the streets for while cause i forgor :)." You can't leave Lorelei homeless like this. Maybe there's still some time to---

Freddy: hey sergeant shithead

Oh god...

Freddy: now about that "luxurious" housing...

Freddy: i got the stuff needed to register. i just need some help finding a good place

Freddy: we're outside the leasing office of one of the apartments

Great. At least they did some window-shopping without you. A link to the location was sent followed by the website for the apartments. Great, more shit with the GPS. At least this time you have a better sense on where it is; you've seen the complex before so there's no doubt you'll get lost this time.

You're glad majority of the places here are at walking distances. It's like New York City. You've been to New York many times before: from vacations to meeting family to visiting your brother while he was away at college. You remember walking through Manhattan, through Times Square, biking in Central Park, eating at Joe's Pizza, the view from the Statue of Liberty. You always thought New York was beautiful---an aesthetic in of itself. If it wasn't for how expensive it was to properly live there, you would move happily inside a cubicle of an apartment.

But it would've put you at a disadvantage against the rapture invasion.

When they came, majority of the people thought that they would be safe staying in New York due to the skyscrapers, subways and water-locked boroughs that can be traveled by the ferry boats. If only they left when they had the chance to. Airborne raptures snatched those who climbed the towers of fragile glass and weakened steel. Burrowing raptures cut off subway systems and power lines, they drilled through those who was prepped to be bury under the earth. Nautical raptures destroyed ferry boats and docks, making the people unable to flee the concrete jungle.

It was a massacre.

Only 10% of New York's population escaped the raptures.

And only 3% made it underground.

You thanked the Lord that Benison made it out of there before he was killed.

"Commander (Y/N)! Over here!" A burly voice called out to you. You look to see Freddy waving over to you. Alongside him was a short, stout Filipina dressed in all black: A tank top covered by a long, heavy cloak, ripped jeans revealing the scabs of survival in the sand and boots with shin guards covering even more scarring from the surface. Her hands were in her pockets but you could see gloves outline the wrist and forearms.

"Hey guys." You smiled, happy to see Lorelei on her feet.

"Hello Commander (Y/N)." Freddy greeted. "I'm glad you're here to aid Daya in finding them a new place to call home."

"Did you get it?" Lorelei asked.

"Get what?"

"The loan."

What loan? "What loan?"

"You didn't get a loan?!" Lorelei shouted. What loan? Were you supposed to get a loan. All you remembered was to help Lorelei window shop for housing once you got to the complex. You shook your head.

"Lorelei assumed that you had the money to pay for their housing. Once I told her that you were never meant to get paid since it was your first mission on the surface, we conspired that getting a loan was your route of choice." Freddy explained. "However, I could see that you made neither option."

"You thought I had the money to pay for this by myself?!" Lorelei scorned. Of course you didn't, you knew---or at least assumed---that everything she owned was either burned or shredded by raptures. You didn't think she'd be making the decision today AT THIS VERY MOMENT.

"I thought you wanted to look at all your options first..." You said meekly.

"I don't have that kind of time sergeant shithead!" She's right. Dusk was slowly rolling in. The day was slowly ending. "So I'm gonna need that loan."

"...Right..." Yeesh. Today was not your day.

"Where are going to stay for the night Mx. Panaglan?" Freddy asked, equally concern for the safety of the survivor.

"A night" Lorelei looked at you as if you just grew a second head.

"Won't that hurt your paycheck?" She raised a brow. "If you even have one."

"Just for the night until I get the loan for you." You thought this was the best solution for now. Either that or another stay at the hospital.

"Fine. But you paying for food too." You could live with that. Hopefully...

"Finally. Home sweet home." You sighed, groggily heading to the showers to clean yourself off. You had to get the loan for Lorelei tomorrow, she was already upset you couldn't get her a home on the first day and bulldozing through all your credits. Now you've got less than 3,000 credits left. (Fucking broke ass. Yeah you thought joke was over huh?) And you really got to get a new phone, this stupid thing couldn't work for shit! You cursed at your phone, staring into the dark screen menacingly.

*Rrr Rrr*

A notification popped up on your phone. "You've been invited to the group chat!" You open your phone again, looking at the number of messages underneath a new chat name: V.7 Squadron.

Chica added Freddy to V.7 Squadron

Chica added Montgomery to V.7 Squadron

Chica added Roxanne to V.7 Squadron

Chica added Sun to V.7 Squadron

Chica added Moon to V.7 Squadron

Chica added (Y/N) to V.7 Squadron

Chica: Yay everyone's here! ^0^

Freddy: Indeed we are Chica.

Montgomery: wtf is this

Roxanne: Chica why did have to put the dumb commander in the chat?

Ouch.

Freddy: Roxanne, you shouldn't insult the commander like that.

(Y/N): Yeah even if I'm here.

Montgomery: fuck off meatsack

Montgomery: nobody asked you

Freddy: Monty please! There's no need for this.

Chica: I just wanted to invite everyone from the squad :(

(Y/N): Thank you Chica.

You assumed Sun and Moon were busy at the hospital and weren't allow to respond while working.

Freddy: Yes. Thank you Chica for inviting all of us.

Chica: :D

Chica: I wish sun and moon didn't have to work some much at the hospital so they can join.

Montgomery: the last thing i want are those two clowns in here too

(Y/N): Those "clowns" are your squadmates Monty. You shouldn't bad mouth them either.

Moon: Unless you want your jaw ripped off your face. That could be a solid option.

Sun: Moonie don't say that!

Freddy: Sun? Moon? Aren't you two at the hospital?

Moon: We just left. We're heading back to the orphanage now.

Sun: Right before we pick up some things for the little ones!

Montgomery: tf with the exclamation points

Roxanne: Ok can we please do something about the chat name?! Its bugging me.

Freddy: What is wrong with the name Roxy? Are we not the V.7 Squadron?

Roxanne: Its just so naisc.

Roxanne: *basic

Montgomery: it is kinda dumb

Chica: We should make it cooler! like The Elites or The Super Soldiers B-)

(Y/N): If want to make a team name it has to unique to us.

Roxanne: Well there's nothing cool about you so mayeb you should sit this one out.

Freddy: I believe we could create a better name for this group chat. Especially if we're going to use this to communicate with each other more often.

Chica: How about "The Rolling Thunders"?

(Y/N): That doesn't really sounds right for us.

Chica: "The Behemoth Squadron"?

Freddy: We're not exactly giants.

Montgomery: yeah the fleshbag only 5'3

Chica: "Classified Reconnaissance Crew"?

Moon: We're too infamous to be called classified.

Chica: I'm running out of ideas guys =[

The chat when silent as everyone tries to create the new name for the group chat.

Roxanne: Hye does anyone else notice these letters on thme?

Roxanne: *them

A picture of what looks like a shoulder revealed bar code-looking print. You couldn't read the numbers--if they even were numbers--but two letters stuck out to you the most. SB

Montgomery: what's sb

Roxanne: Don't know but I just saw it todoay.

Roxanne: *today

Roxanne: These damn claws

Chica: Hey I have that too :-O

Freddy: As do I.

Sun: Me too! And Moonie!

Montgomery: aye meatsack. know what that means.

You never seen those letters before. You never really pay mind to the androids like that. It feels wrong, especially if it's something on their body.

(Y/N): Sorry I've got nothing.

Chica: Since we all have it, how about we name out squad after that! :D

Roxanne: The Superior Bots.

Moon: When have we ever gain superiority?

Roxanne: Sinve when we were created obviously.

Roxanne: *Sonce

Roxanne: *Since

Roxanne: Fuck!

Montgomery: i like it

Montgomery: shows us how much better we are than everyone else

(Y/N): I'm not so sure about it.

Chica: Me neither :/

Freddy: How about The Secondary Barrage?

Montgomery: what's a barrage?

Roxanne: And why are we the second one?

Freddy: A barrage is a heavy barrier of artillery fire to protect one's own advancing or retreating troops or to stop the advance of enemy troops.

Freddy: Secondary means coming after, less important than, or resulting from someone or something else that is primary.

Roxanne: We aren't second best. We're the latest androids of the final nation. The gratest androids.

Roxanne: *greatest

Freddy: My apologies. I shall look for other words to replace "secondary".

(Y/N): You don't have to do that Freddy.

Sun: How about Super Besties?!

Chica: I like that one! ^o^

Montgomery: i veto

Roxanne: Me too.

Sun: What?! Why?!

Moon: I veto as well.

Sun: You too Moonie?!

Moon: Too cutesy

Moon: And we're not well acquainted enough to be considerd "besties".

Sun: (˘･_･˘)

Chica: Aww :[

(Y/N): How about we sleep on it?

(Y/N): It is getting late.

Moon: Adults should get more then 7 hours of sleep.

Moon: It's 10:56 PM. You should've been sleeping instead of being on your phone.

Freddy: Then we shall put this conversation to an end for now. Goodnight Commander (Y/N).

Chica: Night commander (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Sun: Sleep well sunshine!

Moon: Goodnight commander. Makes you get your proper rest and sleep earlier tomorrow.

Montgomery: get to bed meatsack

Freddy left the chat

Chica left the chat

Sun left the chat

Moon left the chat

Roxanne left the chat

Montgomery left the chat

You did what Moon said and head to bed.

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