#AND THANK YOU AGAIN TIME!!! I LOVED BOTH ASKS SO MUCH EVERYONE DID SUCH A GREAT JOB MAKING SHUICHI SO HAPPY AHHH!!! đâ¨
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OĂŻ!!
First, I want to say, I love this comic and genuinely canât wait to see what awaits for us next âĄâĄâĄ
The premise is such an interesting conceptâ And the art is to die for, hello?? (all my ⥠to you guys, and I mean ALL of you!)
I just had two tiny questions, if it havenât been already answered:
If it doesnât spoil anything, is Sonic still going to be able to run at his full speed with that mechanical leg? Or is he going to be limited? I canât imagine my poor baby stuck with average speed, but Iâm not really sure that this leg is capable of supporting his sonic speed.
And second, mostly adressed to others fans... WHY IS EVERYBODY BLAMING MAH BOI TAILS FOR EVERYTHING?? Like, yeah sure heâs technically responsible butâ
Why is nobody blaming Knuckles too?!
Both Sonic and Amy told Tails to come back to the ARK and let Sonic&Shadow handle things, and I think we can safely say he would have (even reluctantly) obeyed and gone back to the ship.
But noooooo, Knuckles had to chime him and told him to make himself useful.
Useful.
To the boy who literally just witnessed his BigBroTM (fake) death in an explosion without being able to do anything abt it.
The kid who just had an entire arc abt gaining confidence and learning to step out of Sonicâs shadow (pun not intented), to be his own person with his own purpose and all that jazz.
The child whoâs probably still pump up on the adrealine from his fight with Eggman (which he won if I remember my SA2 correctly).
Knuckles, mah bro, best hot-headed himbo of the franchise. You could not have chosen a worst time to utter these words.
Of course Tails was going to take him up on that and try to âMaKe HiMsElf UsEfUlâ, why wouldnât he?? He defeated Eggman in battle (Left-over adrealine and possibly cockiness?), and didnât seem to trust Shadow with Sonic (who, again, was thought Dead literaly less than half an hour ago bc of the Team Shadow was onâ Seriously, I can see why heâd like to be by his side when Sonic is again risking his life out there for them)
And franckly, how was he supposed to realize how bad his intervention would turn out to be? It never got that bad before, why now?
#StoptheTailshate #HoldKnucklesaccountable
Sorry for the rambling and the terrible english, but it had to be said, bruh. Tails ainât even in my Top-5 favorites character, but everyonesâ so harsh on the baby, he needed some backup đĽşđ
Hii @sookilini here answering as per usual!
this is the best ask we have ever received and it's honestly my favorite, thank you so much for sending this.
I always get to excited and emotional when i read these things, thank you so much for your kind words <333
ALSO THANK YOU FOR NOT ATTACKING TAILS, he has been DRAGGED TO FILTH I CAN´T TAKE IT /j
So first: is Sonic still going to be able to run at his full speed with that mechanical leg? Or is he going to be limited?
Unfortunately, the people of Marmolim (the planet he landed on) as you may have been able to tell, don't know who Sonic is and are unaware of his speed and abilities. So, the prosthetic leg isn´t capable of withstanding his speed...
Secondly
Why is nobody blaming Knuckles too?
I honestly have no idea why most people commenting did not catch onto Knuckles provoking Tails by poking at his insecurities, I'd even dare to say his ego more so... Tails got into his head "oh I don't need Sonic to get things done. I can do anything, I'm more than just the brains, I can do the action too" at least this is my intention with his actions.
We have to remember, Tails is literally just a child at the end of the day, yes he is incredibly smart but can you really expect a 12-year-old-ish kid to act rationally when put in a stressful life or death situation while getting yelled at by everyone for just trying to help?
Nobody would ever expect a kid to even be in that situation to begin with right? at least that´s what I think.
We all know Knux isn´t the smartest in hindsight...he isn't stupid by any means, but he will say what comes to his mind without second guessing for sure.
But oh well...Knuckles isn´t here to defend himself....anymore...
But there is still hope
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Hi! I have a TF2 request/suggestion for you if you want. You can choose the mercs you like to use, though I may humbly request Engie. Romantic or platonic, and in whatever form you would like.
The team has a new recruit! They are one of the most genuine, patient, friendly, sweetest people one could ever meet. They make everyone breakfast in the mornings, they listen to people's problems, they volunteer at a puppy orphanage, talk down muggers in the street, essentially a bottle of sunshine as a person.
On the battlefield however, they are most certainly one of the scariest people alive. They are incredibly strong and durable, no need for weapons when they can tear people apart with their bears hands and teeth. They are brutal, carnage incarnate, and have absolutely no fear whatsoever.
Now, their sweetness is genuine, they are not faking anything. Outside of battle they are one of the most pleasant, stable people on the team. If ever asked, the best reply they can ever give is "This is a war with no true death. (Thanks to the respawn machine) When you can play a game with no consequences, why not have a little fun? ~"
What do the mercs think about their new teammate? How did they react to seeing their first time on the battlefield? How scary is the game with a player who doesn't care?
(sorry for the length there, I get all excited. This would obviously only really work if the respawn machine is a part of the setting.)
Thank you so much for the request!! My first one :) And donât worry about the length!!! I love excited rambles x3
Sorry that this is short!! i wrote a little hcs list for this for a little more content, but it might take a lil longer to post LOL I'll link it here when it's ready <3 and sorry for the wait, i hope this is what you were lookin for!!
Wild, meet tame.
Engineer/GNC Reader, 1k words
It was like watching a switch flip, he'd never seen it before, ever. Not as drastically as it would with you, at least. One minute he'd be wiping encrusted blood off the turret of his sentry, remnants of some poor enemy Scout, when he'd turn his head to see you barreling into the front lines. The team's Medic struggles, then practically gives up trying to keep up with your rampaging pace.
âIt's like zhey don't⌠don't care!â Medic howls, crouching down by his dispenser to recoup lost energy. He shrugs, you're one hell of a bottled storm out here, and he can only wonder if there's anything deeper down that you're hiding away. He can see you still, just barely, from the vantage point he'd set his nest in, and by God was it a bloodbath down there. The enemies are torn to shreds in seconds, not unusual when under fire from the hulking Heavy and his repertoire of miniguns. But, the lack of gunfire is what was most unsettling.
He could see you, teeth bared, lunging in a fruitful hunt for blood, the enemy soldier screaming as he tried to kick you off of him, nearly blowing you both to bits, but sky high like a bloody firework. It was effective, and their offensive pushes were a lot weaker with someone like you guarding the captured points. There was always a nervous hum in the air when someone would call out your death, a moment for the enemy to recoup, only for them to be torn down by your wrath again.
It'd been nothing but victories recently, and it was unlike anything they'd ever experienced. Even those above them had been a little nicer recently, and boy it sure was infectious.
âYâdoing alright there, Engie?â He closed the fridge door, and looked around. What had he come in here for, that your voice had drawn him out of his search for? The cold air that brushed past him raised a shiver across his skin.
âWhatever you're after, I can cook up, I don't mind.â You're humming, pouring something into a pan on the stove, and whatever it is, smells amazing.
âThose pancakes?â He asks, stepping over gingerly, usually anyone brave enough to cook in the communal kitchen would tell any company to get out, lest they be branded by a scorching hot spatula across the face. Not you though.
âYeah! I'll make you a few. You been eating enough, all holed up in that workshop of yours?â The sweet smell is even stronger now as you flip the pancakes, your words just as sweet, with a simple, kind hesitance in the playful tease. He knows you wouldn't poke fun at his work.
âI think there's some honey or chocolate chips around here if you want some in âem, hon.â And with that small mission given, you're back to humming some classical piece he'd heard playing in Medicâs office once or twice, familiar.
There's a beat of silence as he just⌠watches you. Only for a moment, eyes lingering where they should, just curious. He wants to ask something, but the words don't exactly come easily. He turns, and begins to rummage through some of the slightly-too-high cabinets, finding the chocolate chips, which some dickhead has placed just out of reach. He reaches high, tip toed, fingers just barely tickling the bag before he manages to swipe it down off the shelf, and bring it over to you.
The bag hits the counter with a rattly thwump, and you lean over, looking inside. âTheseâll do just fineâŚâ The smile on your face is nearly eerily pleasant as you take the bag and dump a small handful into the poured batter. There's a smoky smell in the air, but the baked goods seem fine, and Pyro isn't hanging around yet.
There's been a few moments where he questions you, your motives, your actions, but⌠You hadn't done anything to seem like a bad person. If anything, you'd done nothing but prove the opposite! Hell, even the Doc's birds liked you, and that's a real feat! âThank you kindly, maâam.â He muttered, pondering you deeply, though trying not to, you'd done nothing to earn such scrutiny.
He's staring, he's sure, but he can't seem to pull his gaze away from you. âWhat made you erhâŚâ Ordinary of him to start a sentence without being sure if where to take it. âConsider⌠this, as a mercenary, ain't the greatest work for kind folk like you.â He huffs, stepping over to your side, leaning against the flour smeared counter. âAs kind as you want to be, at least.â He squints curiously, you're not quite looking at him, glancing to him out to corner of your eye once in a while.
âAm I being investigated, copper?â You coo, smiling coyly, and flip a pancake onto a plate to your left before turning right to face him, crossing your arms across your chest. âI know what you're thinking.â
The air around you is warm, and swirling with the delectable smells of baking and everything sweet. âIt's different here, than out there.â You turn back to the pan, prepping another pancake.
A shrill squeak rings out from the hall, and you both snap your heads to the noise, before it squeals down the hall, away from the kitchen.
âWhat in tarnationâ I don't think you're some⌠monster,â He chides, shaking his head and wringing his gloves hands.
âNot at all, but it's just⌠So fascinatinâ. Watching you go about, tearinâ them to shreds like it's nothinâ to ya, don't even flinch when the enemy Sniper gets a pick on you!â
Even he was prone to a nervous moment or two in a fight, but you seemed to have some sort of miraculous handle on it all though.
âI know it's different.â He resigns, and you slide another pancake onto the plate, then towards him.
You shrug, and turn the stove off, placing a small cover over the larger plate of previously made pancakes.
âThereâs no harm in going a little crazy out there, I might come back with a new scar if I'm unlucky, but, wellâŚâ Your lips are pursed tightly as you mull over your next words.
âWell, there's nothing to it, we can't die, Dell.â You murmur, he takes a pancake and gingerly bites into it.
âThe real fight is only lost when one team gets bored and gives up, basically, so why not have a little fun with it?â
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Jamie knew he'd chosen a time when the majority of people wouldn't be here, but it also gave him plenty of space to practice, just be, and avoid being in anyone else's way. "What better time to practice then when it's peaceful and I won't be in anyone's way, Sir?" Jamie asked, mentally going through his brain to recall if Sebastian had mentioned being a dancer. It sounded vaguely familiar, but may have only come across in question or perhaps he'd heard it from Oliver or someone. "I'd love to see you dance if you're ever inclined to show me, Sir." He enjoyed seeing other people perform something they enjoyed. It was almost as much fun as doing it himself.
He gave a small nod of his head when Sebastian spoke about warning him of the cold. "You did, Sir and rest assured I believed you then and I've learned from last year." He told him. He smiled as Sebastian spoke, complimenting his abilities. Jamie was easily flustered with a lot of things, but his gymnastics was the one thing he was truly confident in his abilities, but it always made him feel better to know others saw it too. "Thank you, Sir, and rest assured I've never once lied about my flexibility." He told him, not pulling away as Sebastian reached him and pressed a kiss to both of his cheeks.
The submissive met the other's gaze easily, listening as he spoke about how he'd spent the day. "Sounds like you've had a busy day, Sir." Jamie observed. "I got lunch with Noah one day and we had the chance to catch up a bit since he's been playing a hermit again." Jamie said. "I've also spent some time with your brother, but other than that. I've just been focusing on classes and watching as everyone prepares for the holiday season. I'm enjoying the fact I'm not feeling homesick like I did last year." He knew last year had been the first year he'd spent the big holidays without his parents, so feeling homesick was understandable. He had friends to spend time with now, so it made it a little easier this time around.
Neither of the times they had spent together had been at a gym, and while the Dom was already aware of Jamie's gymnastics skills, it was nice to finally see said skills in person. "Right back at you. No one is suppose to be here at this hour on a Saturday, but I suppose some take the chance of solitude to practice more freely. I sometimes do that at the dance room." He chuckled and shook his head. "I warned you, didn't I? About cold being a serious matter here. But this is a good way to shake it off. I have never seen you practice- You are really good. Very flexible. That's always a plus."
The moment he was within reach of Jamie, Sebastian leaned in and kissed him once on each cheek. "As well as to be expected" he said with a fond tone, looking right into his big blue baby eyes. "I had some errands to run in town. At my house, more precisely, and I just got back. What about you? Have you done something interesting lately?"
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"What're you laughin' at, hu? What's with that face..." *mondo is squinting as taka can't help but laugh at how ridiculous he looks, kaito having 'helped' him earlier and decided to put on not one, but three party hats on the oblivious biker! he's entirely unaware of the line of party hats now adorning his pomp!!*
"P-please, kyĹdai! He will be here any minute!" *taka is still giggling by the time the birthday boy arrives, a huge smile on his face while mondo gets a little more relaxed*
"Happy birthday, bro!!" *taka shouts, blissfully unaware of just how loud he is while happily grabbing shuichi's arm and pulling him towards the nearby table! on it is a big box that is wrapped with an even bigger bow!*
"Happy birthday, little bro. Hope you got enough rest now that today's the real deal. Now go on, Taka and I put a lot of thought into this. Poor guy was near tears when we were puttin' it together, worryin' his head off wonderin' if you were gonna like it."
"KyĹdai!! There was no need for you to bring that up!!" *there's a huge frown on taka's slightly red face, his reaction causing mondo to laugh at the flustered hall monitor!*
"Please ignore him! It seems that he is in a teasing mood today!" *he grabs the birthday boy's shoulders and adjusts him so that he's standing right in front of his present, and were he to open it, he'll find a hand-carved oak bookshelf that's been filled to the brim with all sorts of office supplies like ink pots, erasers, stationary, sticky notes, and envelopes!*
"I think it's pretty obvious who gave ya what. I kept tellin' him to get ya somethin' a li'l more fun, but you know how he is."
"You say that, yet the item you made for him isn't fun at all, kyĹdai! In fact, I find it to be as stylish as it is practical!"
"Tch... You got me there..." *and mondo rolls his eyes as he feels taka grab his arm, the biker not resisting as he's pulled closer and brought into a group hug, mondo making sure to give shuichi a tight squeeze!!*
{ Shuichi Birthday!! đ}
Shuichi had just arrived back after a quick trip to the convenience store To his surprise, when he enters his room, he's greeted by Kiyotaka and Mondo!! "!! Taka! Mondo...! Oh-!" He lets out a surprised noise when he's pulled towards the table, eyes widening when seeing such a big box! "O-Oh wow...!" He then turns towards them, a smile widening on his face as he listens, followed by a small chuckle when Mondo teases Kiyotaka like that!
"Now, now... and thank you guys! What a nice surprise to see you both here! I did get a good rest, yes... and I don't even have to worry about if I will like it or not: I know I will. Especially because it's from you two..." He reassures them, mainly Kiyotaka, as he pats the flustered boy's shoulder with a chuckle. "He teases out of care. Also, nice hats by the way, Mondo. Ahahaha... but okay! Time to see the wonderful things you both have given me!"
Once he's made to stand right in front of the present, Shuichi eagerly begins to unwrap it. Seeing what's inside... "...!" He'll gasp when seeing the beautifully crafted bookshelf.. "O...O-Oh my god... this is..." As the boys talk, he does a circle around the table to get a full look at the bookshelf. He saw that there was even office supplies already stocked inside it, too, which he really liked. "Mondo, this bookshelf looks..so amazing...! You did a wonderful job on this! The texture feels so smooth... and Taka, thank you for the supplies: I'm always in need of more, so this is very helpful!"
Then when he's pulled into that group hug, Shuichi beams, and wraps his arms around each of them to return the hug just as tightly~ "No, no! These gifts are absolutely perfect to me! Thank you guys so much for such wonderful gifts! I love them, just as I said I would! I promise to take great care of the bookshelf and make great use of the office items! I love you guys!"
#!!! A HANDMADE BOOKSHELF!!! HEHE OH THAT'S PERFECT FOR HIM~!#and office supplies!!! GOOD!!!#Shuichi's gonna make great use of it alll!!! IT'S FUN GIFTS TO HIM OKAY BOYS!!!#HE WUVS HIS BIG BROS SO MUCH~!#AND THANK YOU AGAIN TIME!!! I LOVED BOTH ASKS SO MUCH EVERYONE DID SUCH A GREAT JOB MAKING SHUICHI SO HAPPY AHHH!!! đâ¨#Shuichi answers;;#essenceofjustice
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Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 3)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
Warnings: fluff, smut this is the last part so I hope you enjoy it!!
part 2
It would be an understatement to say that Charles was over the moon when you and Louise showed up in the paddock on the race day. He was so delighted and happy that he had a hard time hiding it, and everyone present could see it.
He didn't separate from Lou, and he thanked you several times for bringing her and for coming with her telling you how much that meant to him.
Of course, you both attracted the attention of all the media, knowing that tomorrow the main news on the internet will be how Charles' ex-girlfriend appeared with his daughter in the paddock for the first time after a full year since the breakup.
The cameras were everywhere, but having learned from previous experiences, you decided to ignore them and pretend they didn't exist. All you were focused on was giving your daughter an unforgettable weekend and supporting Charles as well.
Lou got hungry so you and Charles decided to get her something to eat at the Ferrari hospitality. Lou didn't know what she wanted to eat, so Charles decided to leave his things at your table, including his phone, and said he would go with her to the restaurant to choose. While Lou went with Charles, you sat down at the table and scrolled through your phone waiting for them to come back.
âAm I seeing things or is it really y/n?â A very familiar voice asked you, making you look up from your phone.
âCarlos!â You smiled from ear to ear as you stand up to hug him.
âItâs been some time since Iâve seen you in the paddock. How come youâre here?â He asks curiously.
âLou had a hard time accepting that she wouldn't be spending this weekend with her dad, so...yeah, here we are.â
âOh man, heâs gonna beat my ass on the track today..â Carlos says shaking his head.
âWhat do you mean?â You laugh a little unsure of what heâs talking about.
âHe always gives 110% on the track when Lou is there to support him, I can only imagine what itâll be like today when you are there too.â
The two of you started catching up talking about what was new in your lives, what wasn't, and so on, until Carlos commented on Charles and Lou's relationship, saying that he really loves spending time with her and that he talks about her nonstop.
âShe loves spending time with him too, he is her soulmate Iâm sure.â You commented.
âAnd what about you? Is he your soulmate too?â Carlos asked catching you off guard.
Both you and Charles were close to Carlos and he pretty much knew everything about you and your relationship. He was also very angry with you when you broke up because he thought it was a bad decision and that you should have worked on your relationship and not give up on it so easily.
âI-I..â As you were trying to think of an answer to his question, at that very moment the screen of Charles's phone, which he had left on the table in front of you, lit up.
What caught your attention wasn't the notification he received, but your eyes got stuck on the wallpaper on his lock screen. It was a picture of you and Lou that Charles had taken shortly after you had given birth and came home from the hospital. You were lying on the bed and Lou was lying on your chest while you kissed her head.
It was a picture that was very dear to both you and Charles, and he had it as his wallpaper since the day he took it, and what surprised you the most was that he still had it to this day. Even though you were no longer together, he never changed it.
Carlos noticed what you were staring at and he basically took it as an answer to his question although he had already knew it.
âUncle Carloss!!â Lou screamed with her mouth full of pizza as Charles carried her in his arms over to the table where Carlos and you were sitting.
âHola, hermosa! Did you get hungry?â Carlos chuckled squeezing her cheek.
âOut of all the possible foods you can think of, my baby chose pizza.â Charles laughed sitting her down on the chair next to you.
You were completely lost in your thoughts and didn't even pay attention what the three of them were talking about. All you could think about was the picture you saw on Charles's phone and how you were getting closer to confessing your still deeply held feelings for him.
And of course today was just as Carlos said it would be. Not only did Charles beat Carlosâ ass on the track, but he also beat all the other drivers by proudly and deservedly taking P1. He couldn't let the win slip through his fingers in front of the two most important people in his life so he fought extra hard for it today.
When it was time to celebrate, your eyes filled with tears at how proud you were of him. First he celebrated with the team, then his eyes searched for you and Lou.
âYou wanna congratulate daddy, baby?â You asked her and she nodded excitedly.
You pushed your way towards Charles with her in your arms and when you reached him he instantly hugged her and kissed her on the forehead.
âGood job, daddy!â She said.
âThank you, baby. This one was for you.â He told her kissing her once again.
âCongratulations, Charles. Weâre really proud of you.â You say softly smiling at him tears threatening to run down your cheeks.
âThank you, y/n. Thank you for being here.â He said looking deep into your eyes.
The cameras went crazy over your family moment, closely capturing every interaction between you. It won't be until the next day when you see one of the taken photos of the two of you that it will become completely clear to you how your eyes are betraying you and showing how deeply and obviously in love you are with each other.
When the day was coming to an end, you didn't stay in the paddock any longer, but immediately got on the plane and flew to Monaco, all three of you together. Lou was completely exhausted and when you landed she was already asleep. Charles didn't offer but instead insisted on driving you to your apartment no matter how tired he was.
Charles, carefully so as not to wake her, carried her in his arms into her room and put her to bed. He kissed her goodnight before closing the door and going into the living room thinking he would say goodnight to you too.
âSheâs sleeping like a log.â Charles chuckles quietly as he stands in front of you.
âPoor thing, she was so tired. She passed out as soon as we sat in the plane.â
âBut I'm glad you came. Both of you. It really meant a lot to me to have you there.â
âIâm glad too. We had a lot of fun. Maybe we can come again sometime.â You say making him smile.
âAnytime you wantâ He says feeling that the conversation is slowly coming to an end. He wants to continue it so bad, but he knows that both of you are tired and with a heavy heart he has to leave, even though he would rather lie in bed with you now and hold you close to him all night.
âOkay, Iâm gonna go now. Itâs getting really late.â He says running his hand nervously through his hair while you bite the inside of your cheek so desperately wanting him to ask you if he can stay. âSee you soon, yeah? Good nightâ
Before he turns around to head for the door, you decide that enough is enough. There have been so many obvious signs by now that it's not over between you and that you're still madly in love with each other that you don't want to waste another second being stubborn, but rather surrender to the moment and finally enjoy it.
âOr you can stay the night here..you know..i-if you want toâ You blurt out stuttering the last part.
He turns slowly towards you. His expression is unreadable until he places his hands on your cheeks and asks you âDo you want me to stay?â
Without much hesitation, you nod your head and quietly say âI do.â
Initially, it was as if you were afraid to approach each other, as if you were afraid of each other's reaction even though both of you were hoping that the desire was mutual. Then his lips slowly and cautiously began coming closer and closer to yours.
At first, your lips just brushed, pulling back a little, and then they connected into a long, passionate and deep kiss that you both had been eagerly waiting for.
You felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you let out deep breaths in relief you didn't even know you were holding in.
Things were moving quickly and you didn't waste any time getting to your bedroom. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he picked you up and without breaking the kiss, carried you into the room and laid you down on the bed.
Exhaustion was long forgotten when you took each other's clothes off and started kissing every part of each otherâs body.
âI missed you, I missed you so much you donât even knowâ He said into the kiss, barely catching his breath from the intense excitement he felt.
âI missed you too, Charlesâ You half whisper as he pushes into you and one tear rolls down the side of your face.
It felt so good. He felt so good inside you, fit so perfectly like he was made for you. He wanted to make love to you, to show you how much he cares about you so he kept going on and on making your legs shake so many times throughout the night, kissing every inch of your body, pulling you closer to him to calm you down, breathing in your scent and getting lost in your eyes.
âIâm gonna cum, babyâ His voice trembled as he rested his forehead against yours and pulled his cock out of you cumming all over your stomach, hands free, then pushing himself back in and wincing.
You fell asleep with him holding you close all night. His arms were hugging you so tightly, as if he was afraid that if he let go even just for a second, he would wake up and it would all be just a dream.
The morning sun's rays didn't let you sleep past eight, so you spontaneously woke up together still in the same position you fell asleep in.
âGood morning ma cherieâ He said with a kiss to your lips.
âMorning babyâ You smiled caressing his cheek with your thumb. âDid you sleep well?â
âMhm, very wellâ He murmurs against your skin. âAnd you?â
âMe too. I haven't slept this peacefully in a long time.â
âYeah, baby?â
âYeahâ You glance at the clock out of the corner of your eye and see that it's almost time for Lou to wake up. âOh shit, Charles you need to leave, Lou is about to wake upâ You say nervously, which completely confuses Charles.
âWhat? What do you mean I need to leave? Why canât she know that Iâm here?â
âIt's not that she canât know itâs just that I want us to take it slow this time. I'm afraid of screwing this up because it feels so good and so right and I don't know if I could handle us hurting each other again.â You sigh as you explain your reasons to him. âAnd most of all, I don't want to break Lou's heart.â
He pauses for a moment to think about what you just said and realizes that it makes sense and that you're right. âOkay, baby. Donât worry weâll take things slow to make it right this time.â After all, he just wants to fulfill all your wishes and wants to make you happy with whatever you want. âSo when do I get to see you again?â He asks and you laugh at his silly question. âWhat?â He asks confused.
âIt's funny that you ask me that. You can see us whenever you want. It's just for a short time until we see how things develop and then of course we'll live together again.â
âI canât wait for that.â
Soon he got out of the bed and got dressed. He kissed you barely breaking away from you before heading out of the bedroom. The door to Lou's room was open and so he walked slowly on his tiptoes, not wanting to wake her up.
But he realized that was in vain when, passing by her room, he heard âDaddy?!â He stopped in his tracks, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing quietly under his breath.
Sheâd already seen him and he couldn't leave now or get out of the situation in any way, so he decided to go into her room and say good morning to her.
âHey, baby. Good morningâ
âWhat are you doing here?! Did you sleep here?!â She didn't know what to ask him first from how happy she was that it was morning and he was there.
When the two of them appeared at your bedroom door, it was clear to both you and Charles that from that moment on, you were all living together again.
âHi thereâ Charles said holding her in his arms and looking at you.
You didn't say anything, you just covered your face with your hands and started laughing before you uncovered the quilt and said "come here, both of you"
@charlesgirl16 @aleatorio1234 @teamnovalak @watermelonslut @diaryofarandomkid @sunny44 @tempo-rary-fix @ggaslyp1 @janeh22 @seonghwaexile @seasonswinter @itgirlofthecenturysposts @ricciardosredbull @amz824 @sarx164 @seonghwaexile @landossainz @little-miss-naill @taygrls @sturmatt @myescapefromthislife @stylesmoonlight12 @st4rgirl-ellie @eloriis @sillyfreakfanparty @rebelliousneferut @kahhorri @hard4ndsoft @weekendlusting
#charles leclerc one shot#f1 fic#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x female reader#f1 scenario#f1 smut#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader
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TYSM AGAIN FOR DRAWING THEM TOGETHER I LOVE THEM SO MUCH...and the fact that calypso is always ready to fight seb is so funny to me so ofc i had to draw it BAHAHAđđđ
On impulse drew @choccy-milkys Clora and my Calypso in modern au đ¤
#all mcs go in protecc mode around clora and i love it PROTECT THE PRINCESS BABY ANGEL and keep her away from STINKY SEB#im like that army man meme of the guy taking all those knives and bullets for the sleeping child. except its me and im doing it for clora#seb so confused like why does cloras poofy haired friend want to fight me all the time LMAO#seb if you want to date clora this is a scott pilgrim situation you have to defeat everyones mc's BAHAHA#since calypso is a music kid im just imagining her asking clora what she listens to and coming over to her house and being appalled#clora does not have good taste in music#i cant see her going out of her way to find interesting music since shes such a bookworm so she just listens to mainstream stuff#as a music nerd calypso is OFFENDED how can you listen to THIS#so she introduces clora to the wonderful world of GOOD MUSIC#doing gods work calypso. both on the music front AND in keeping sebs ass in check. FIGHT HIM#THANK YOU AGAIN GIRL I LOVE THIS SO MUCH IF YOU COULDNT TELL FROM ALL MY YAPPING LMAO#STILL CANT BELIEVE HOW FAST YOU DID THIS#đđđđđ#choccyfanart
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Captain Curly; marriage hcs <3
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Chat I know I mentioned getting back into writing for twst but the current hyperfixation is too strong rn so just bare with me I NEED to write for mouthwashing
!this is written with an AU in mind; curly still works for pony express, but there's no ship. Just a normal job. Also J***y doesn't exist.!
Tw/cw; afab!reader, mentions of pregnancy and having said baby, MANHANDLING!!!!, teasing, use of pet names, uhhh I can't think of any else
Not proofread
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Sfw
I think Curly would definitely be a family oriented person. The further you'd get into your relationship, the more he'd ask about your opinion on kids and if you'd want any in the future.
I also think Curly would be on the traditional side, too. If you said yes to having kids, he'd take that as an opportunity to show you how good of a provider he can be, and how willing he is to become a father.
When you do eventually have children, he'd be more than willing to take off work to help around the house. You just gave birth, he knows it's hard for you, so he'd make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for all three of you.
Sidenote; Curly would definitely be a good cook. He probably took culinary in highschool
If he knew Anya at the time, he'd have her babysit your children so he could take you out on dates. This happens quite often, too; probably around once or twice a month. He just wants to show how much he appreciates you and everything you've done for him and your relationship <3
He'd take you to the most expensive restaurants and tell you to order whatever you wanted, and if you're done breastfeeding, he'd order a bottle of champagne for you both.
He'd be one of those "I love my wife" husbands. Everyone at his job is so sick of hearing him talk so highly of you. It'll be someone's birthday, they'll bring a cake, and he just won't eat it. Why? "My wife could make a better cake."
After you guys got married, he couldn't stop calling you his wife. That name felt so surreal to him; like the woman of his dreams is finally his? And there's a title for that?? Of course he's going to use it constantly.
He probably also took Anya out to help him pick out a ring. And thank god he did btw because he would've gotten you a ring with the biggest diamond they had đđ (sorry to all the big ring lovers in chat rn they're just not it for me)
Nsfw
Curly is a romantic. He'd want to take things slow, cherish you as much as possible, especially if it's your first time.
He wouldn't think of it as sex, he'd think of it as lovemaking; showing you his worth and how much he cares about you.
He rarely gets rough, you have to ask him to be because he just won't do it. But, he's a suck up for you, so if you want something, it's yours.
So, he'd get rough. He'd go faster than he usually does, maybe put his hand around your neck and squeeze ever so gently. But afterwards, he'd feel awful; like he was hurting you or something.
He'd apologize profusely, say he's never gonna do it again, but does it a few days later. It's like going through the five stages of grief but skipping the first four and consistently being at acceptance
He's a hand holder. Since he's an intimate person, his preferred position is missionary. He likes this position for a few reasons; he gets to see your expression if you're enjoying it or uncomfortable, he gets to kiss you, and he can hold your hand. It's one of his favorite things to do, not only because he finds it much more romantic, but he also loves how you squeeze his hand when you're getting close.
Teasing is one of the things he does best. But verbal teasing, not physical. You can hear him giggle anytime he's inside you, practically taunting you when he knows you're close. He'd say something dumb like, "aw, is princess gonna cum?" And then have a shit eating grin on his face.
Pet names are another thing he uses often. Like I said previously, he'd call you princess, but there's also other names he'd call you during the act. Love, darling, and angel are the ones he uses for you most commonly, aside from princess of course.
I saw someone else say this on here and their hcs were actually what made me want to write (I swear on my SOUL I am NOT trying to copy them đđđđ sorry if it comes off like that) but they said Curly would be buff and I completely agree. He would be HUGE, I'm thinking 6'3-6'5, easily over 220lbs.
The manhandling would go CRAZY, you don't like a position? No issue, he'll just pick you up and put you in a different one. Can't keep your legs open while he's being a munch? As much as he enjoys the feeling of suffocating between your thighs, which believe me, he does, he can't exactly pleasure you if he's unconscious from the lack of airflow. Not a big issue, a firm hand on each leg will do the trick.
Another comment on his body alone to wrap this up; he'd definitely be muscular in his legs and especially his arms. I think his stomach would be toned, not a six pack, but toned. Maybe even a little pudge and a v line đ¤đ¤đ¤đ¤đ¤
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A/N: hi guys pls send requests for curly fics plasplsplspslsplsplslsplspls I'm so thirsty for this man oh ky god I'm crynng
#mouthwashing#captain curly#captain curly x reader#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing smut#jimmy slander (mouthwashing)#i hate jimmy#fuck jimmy#me and my homies hate jimmy#chat i need him so bad#chat im so down bad#give orange me give eat orange me eat orange give me eat orange give me you
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could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333
thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k
You bend forward and breathe.Â
Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent.Â
Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. âY/N, do you need me to get someone?â he asks.Â
âHotch?â you ask.Â
âSure. Do you want to sit down?âÂ
Your mouth isnât calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. âIâm okay.âÂ
You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. âHey, come on,â he says, guiding you toward the office doors, âletâs find somewhere quieter.âÂ
Youâre three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands.Â
Your entire world just got rocked⌠you donât even know how to say it. You canât stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like heâs going to kiss her cheek. And sheâd just let him do it.Â
âWhat happened?âÂ
âThey were kissing.âÂ
Hotch looks down at you patiently. âWho?âÂ
âSpencer and JJ.â You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, âThey were so closeâŚâÂ
âAre you sure?âÂ
âNo⌠Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, heâŚâÂ
You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical youâd always expected to be above races through your head. Werenât you too much to lose?Â
âThey were too close,â you say more firmly.Â
âAlright,â Hotch says softly. Then, because heâs your friend, even if youâve thrust him into an awkward position. âI can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.âÂ
âThatâs not funny,â you say, because even if it were, itâs way too soon.Â
âIâm not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, Iâd⌠well, I wouldnât hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?âÂ
âYou think Iâm overreacting.âÂ
Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. âI honestly canât imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, thatâs all. Iâm not trying to mock you. Iâm not saying you canât be upset.âÂ
You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.
âThank you.âÂ
âYouâre welcome.â
âI think I can kill him.â
âI donât doubt it. Do you want to?âÂ
âDepends on what I saw,â you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open.Â
âWell⌠perhaps you canââ
âHey, what are you guys doing out here?â Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. âAngel, I need your help, urgently. JJâs earring got caught in my hair, Iâm pretty sure Iâm bald.âÂ
You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself.Â
âHey, are you okay?â he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. âWhatâs wrong? You look sick.â
âWhat did JJ do?â you ask.Â
âAngel?âÂ
He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. âAm I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.âÂ
He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath.Â
âIâm hideous,â Spencer surmises from your silence.Â
âI didnât really look.âÂ
Spencer looks at Hotch. âCan you tell me whatâs wrong? Please?âÂ
You send Hotch a look that says please, donât. Â
âI just felt a bit panicked,â you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.
âI brought her out here for some quiet,â Hotch says.Â
Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. âYou did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? Itâs accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.â His frown deepens. âUnless itâs not that. Are you worried about something?âÂ
You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm.Â
âWorried about your hairline,â you mumble.Â
Look, youâll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isnât easy.Â
If he were lying about the earring, youâd be able to tell. If heâd kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him.Â
âI can trust you to look after her?â Hotch asks.Â
âWhen canât you?â Spencer asks sincerely.Â
Footsteps. A door opening.Â
You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. âAre you okay? Really okay?âÂ
âCan you hug me?âÂ
âSure I can.â He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. âDo you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can justâ walk.â His hand spread wide over your shoulder. âYouâre shaking.âÂ
âI am?âÂ
âJust a littleâŚâÂ
You try your best to stand completely still.Â
âOh,â he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, âIâm sorry, I had no idea you werenât feeling okay today. But itâll be okay, I promise. I got you.âÂ
Itâs not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesnât make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer⌠he really wouldnât do anything to hurt you. You arenât at fault for thinking they were too close, but thereâs an explanation, and for now thatâs enough to make you feel better.Â
âHow much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?â you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. âDoes it hurt?âÂ
âNo, Iâm fine. Honestly Iâm more worried about you than my hair.âÂ
âCan I explain it to you later?âÂ
âYouâll sleep over?â he asks, lips thinning into a smile.Â
âYeah.âÂ
âWeâll talk about it later,â he says.Â
You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isnât offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness youâre assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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đđŽđđđđ§đĽđ˛, đ đđđ đ đđđĽđđ§đđ˘đ§đ | satoru gojĹ
đđ˛đ§đ¨đŠđŹđ˘đŹ: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something youâd never thought would happen â especially on Valentineâs Day! But itâs just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing moreâŚYeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.
đđ¨đ§đđđ§đđŹ: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.
đđ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)
đđŽđđĄđ¨đŤ'đŹ đđ¨đđ: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~
and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~
prev story Âť â¤ď¸
âSorry, Satoru, Y/n doesnât wanna see you right now â like, at all.â
âOh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/nâs in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, Iâll have to charge your savings.â
âHmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didnât you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to youâŚWhat the hell did you do this time?â
You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, theyâd come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: youâre not ready to converse with them. Youâll probably never want to talk with them again.Â
Itâs been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo â not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words â things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.
Outside of being the talk in everyoneâs mouth (I mean, who wouldnât gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), youâve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you werenât in your dorm room whenever heâd try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.
But it didnât stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate â especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting â not even a mere glance â were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.
However, this is Satoru Gojo weâre talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, heâd still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, youâd bolt to the door to not give him the chance. Heâd follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.
But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way youâd want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart thatâs been aching for a long while now. You canât even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on.Â
And yetâŚyour mind still canât help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you â like he didnât want others to find you in the comfort of each otherâs presence â like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever youâd reminisce it.Â
âY/n!â
Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the daysâ encounters and nightly calls went by.Â
âY/n...â
But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop.Â
âHey, Y/n,â your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. âItâs the front door again; itâsââ
âGRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!âÂ
You were never one to shout within your apartment â Utahimeâs eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.
You swung the apartment door open with vigor, âI SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF âDONâT EVER TALK TO MEâ DO YOU NOT UNDERSTââŚGeto?â
âOh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.â You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojoâs dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that werenât covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.
âHey, guys,â knowing they arenât who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. âWhatâs up?â
âWell,â Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. âWe wouldnât be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.â
And then it hits â the realization of how these twoâs abrupt appearance came to be. ââŚHe asked you two to come and talk to me for him.âÂ
The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person youâre talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.
âUgh. What is it.â You ask Geto with an attitude that wasnât easily sheathed.
âHonestly, all I know is that he really â like, really â wants to talk to you.â
âWell, I donât want to talk to him. So there,â you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. âSorry you two came here for no reason, but I canâtââ
ââWait!â Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. âLook, I donât know what happened between youâwell, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right nowâŚButââ
âDid he tell you what he said to me?â
âHâNo, he didnât,â your brow quirked at that response. He didnât? âAll he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.âÂ
âA line?â You enunciated after him. âThatâs cute...Geto, he wonât tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,â you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. ââknows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.â
Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. âAnd Iâm on your side in that regard. Youâre right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoyingââ
âJust borderline?â Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.
âAnd the type of person to get on someoneâs nerves purposely. And with that, I donât blame you for cutting him off. If anything, itâs what he deserves, if not more.â
You knew there was more to say beyond that. âAnd yetâŚ"
âAnd yet,â Nanami picks it up. ââŚIâd be lying if I said that guy doesnât know when heâs at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful â albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesnât deserve it. However, heâs not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when heâs in the wrong.â
âAnd take it from me, Y/n.â Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. âFucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and thatâs if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesnât, I know he cares about me like any best friendâŚLike he cares about you.â
You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. âHe doesnât careââ
âYes, he does.â Nanami doesnât let you finish that sentence. âLike I said: Gojo is many things, but heâs not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it â pathetically so.â
ââŚHow do you know?â You donât know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?
âBecause when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didnât deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after thatâŚâ
Again, this isnât something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, ââŚWhat did he say?â
âHe said I was right, that he definitely didnât deserve you.â Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. âAnd that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing heâs ever done, which is saying a lot.â
âA whole lot.â The blond-haired boy jumped in. âY/n, donât take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,â he nods when you shake your head ânoâ again. âYou would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at â pathetic for him to express. But it was real.â
And you know itâs the truth â not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojoâs face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes â usually filled with life and light â appearing so broken and devoid of animation.Â
âHe does care about you â thereâs no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; heâd be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And thatâs why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.â You open your mouth, but Geto isnât finished. âPlease, Y/n. Youâre the mature one, but you donât have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but Iâm sure you want this handled, too.â
He wasnât wrong, yet at the same time, you couldnât shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down.Â
âIâŚI donât want to speak with him.â The two guys didnât change their facial expressions. âNot now, at least...I donât want to see his face right now.â
âThen how about a phone call later tonight?â Nanami proposed. âYou two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while weâre sleeping so you can have privacy.â
âEhhh, but Iâm nosy.â Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff.Â
âNot tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.â
âFair, fairâŚBut seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We donât want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?â
It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against.Â
But concurrently, you couldnât lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed â there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, youâd be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester â no, the whole next year! You knew you didnât have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsensâŚAt least, thatâs what you say to rationalize.
ââŚOkay,â you straightened your posture. âThe girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.âÂ
Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldnât tell if that was a lie to them or yourself.Â
From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously â the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock.Â
Was this the universeâs way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didnât help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about.Â
And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldnât settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldnât call on the dot. He wouldnât buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something â anything else â hoping heâd spare you another minute if he could.
BZZZR!! BZZZR!!
However, that wasnât the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled âdo not answer this jerk,â a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button.Â
It wasnât until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Untilâ
ââŚHey.â He was the first to say something, thank God.
âHiâŚ..Where are you?â
âOutside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?â
âIn the bathroom.â
âYou sitting on the toilet?â
You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. ââŚAnd what if I am?â
âThen Iâd sayâŚ.Heh, actually, no. I canât make that joke right now. Not when weâre like this.â
âMmm, like thisâŚâ You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. ââŚ.Look, Gojoââ
âBefore you say anything,â he cut you off, but you allowed it. âI have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to youâŚCan I say them?â
Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. ââŚGo ahead.â
âOkayâŚSo, first off,â you held your breath to brace yourself. âWhat I said about you on that day â Iâm not gonna sit here and say I didnât mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way youâre thinking.â
âThen what way did you mean them, Gojo?â
âI meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.â Had? âOur relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us andâŚI know you werenât ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thoughtâŚ.I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since weâre always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And thenâŚI guess I got carried away.âÂ
âYou guess you got carried away?â You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. ââŚJust a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?â
âHoly fuck, you remember it allââ
âOf course I did!â How could you not!? âAnd then â hmph, now this one Iâll never forget â âIâve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with themââŚâ Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldnât solve this. âGojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since themâŚTo say you got carried away is justâŚlike, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?âÂ
He didnât say anything for a minute, but you couldnât blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin.Â
ââŚIâm sorry,â you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. âReally. Iâm soâŚso fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasnât cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.â
âIâahemâŚâ Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. âI want to believe you, Gojo. But I justâŚI canât; it hurts my head thinking about it.â
âI knowâŚI did that to you, and Iâm so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after anotherâŚ.And you know whatâs crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasnât the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw youâŚ.the way you looked soâŚdistant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldnât see it â I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost youâŚ..Y/nâŚ? Are you crying?âÂ
You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.
As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that youâd think youâd blow up.
You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, ââŚ.What else?âÂ
âHuh?â
âYou saidâsniffâthat you had other things you wanted to say to me.â A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. âSo, what else?â
The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. ââŚSecond of all, I wanna say â since Iâm not sure Iâll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person â I want you to know that youâre more than what I said. Thereâs nothing 'kinda' pretty about you â youâre pretty all over. Iâm not saying that to butter you up; itâs something Iâve said to myself all this timeâŚWho am I kidding, saying Iâve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid onâŚ.? Boring and uncute? Heh, youâre anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I donât think thereâs been a single day that Iâve thought you were a sore for my eyes. Youâre too gorgeous for that.â
âGojoââ
âI donât deserve you as a friend, Y/n.â Your breath hitched. âHonest. I shouldnât even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really donât have the right to have you close to meâŚIâm sorry.â
It didnât take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.
You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. âSoâŚIs that all?âÂ
ââŚ.â
ââŚGojo?â
ââŚ.â
âGojo? Are you stillââ
âI like you.â
Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.
Thereâs no way he just said that. Thereâs no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.
He likes you. The Gojo Satoru â your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging â likes you.
âYouâŚYou what?â You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasnât some joke.
âI like you.â He didnât hesitate to replicate. âI do, I really do. Iâve liked you forâŚ.quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.â
âHow long ago is that?â
âI think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.â
ââŚWhy?â
âHmm?â
âWhy do you like me?Â
You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. ââŚTo be honest, I just like how youâŚare you. Like, youâre not scared to be yourself around me. Many people Iâve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholesâŚBut you, I donât see that â I never saw that. Youâd never kiss my ass; youâd always be down to tell me when Iâm wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.âÂ
You didnât intervene, listening to every word he was to say.Â
âNot to mentionâŚHeh, youâre so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I canât count how many times Iâve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, youâre all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; itâs one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes â Iâm always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at meâŚ.Y/n? Are youâYouâre not crying, are you?â
You said in sniffles. âYouâre such a fucking asshole, GojoâŚâ
âHuh!? Why??â
âYou break my heart one day and then say all these things the nextâŚAre you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?â
âHey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didnât have anything to call our relationship, soâŚ!â
âSniffâAnd you! Why didnât you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?â
âI couldâve done that, butâŚI donât know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, youâre cute when youâre angry at me.âYou had to scoff at that. Of course, heâd say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. âI was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didnât want to change something we were used to into something more.â
âMmm.â You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. ââŚWould it have been a bad thing if it was something more?â
He didnât answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. âNoâŚI wouldnât have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.â Â
âGojo,â The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. ââŚ.Would it be a bad thing if I saidâŚ.that I liked you, too? And thatâŚI still like youââ
KA-BANG-BANG!!
You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojoâs voice comes back.
âFuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!â He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. âYou.âŚYou like me?â
âYeah, I doâŚâ Gosh, you didnât think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. âI really do. And Iâm also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeemingââ
âI WILL!â Again, it wasnât the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. âI will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?âÂ
Huh!? âA date??â
âYeah, on Valentineâs Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small cafĂŠ to wind down from classes? You can pickââ
âWait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yagaââ
âWe could skipââ
âHell. No.â You shut him down with quickness. âWeâre going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; weâre just gonna have to do the date after class.âÂ
âPfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.â
For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. âSays the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.â
âYeah, yeah, whatever.â He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadnât heard that laugh in ages. âSoâŚIs that a yes?â
It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt soâŚfamiliar. It was something youâd been missing for the past week, accepting that youâd never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out?Â
Regardless, you canât shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? âYes, I accept your date.âÂ
âThen itâs a Valentineâs date. Cool.â
âCool.â You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. âOkay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.â
âMmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~â
Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. âWhatever. Iâll tryâŚThink of me too, Satoru.â
âI always do, Y/n.â Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what itâs like to admit you like someone? âGood night.â
âGood nightâŚOh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.â
âHmmâŚOh, yeah?â
âWell, now that weâre kinda on good termsâŚWhat was the joke?â
âOh! I was gonna say itâs kinda a shame that youâre sitting on a toilet and not on my face.â
âGoodbye, Gojo.â
âPFFFT, No, wait, Iâm soââ
CLICK!
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about.Â
As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that heâd wait for you outside.
What he didnât expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a âtouch-up,â all the people he went on dates on mustâve not been trying.
You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. AndâŚdid you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.
âSo,â youâd say meekly to catch his attention since heâs examining your every feature. âIâm readyâŚâ They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. âYouâre staring, SatoruâŚâ
âHmm? Oh! Sorry...â Heâd close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around.Â
And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him youâd settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each otherâs day.
âYou did not have to do that.â You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth.Â
âI did, too!â Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. âThe fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.âÂ
âYeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?â You shook your head with a smile. âAnd all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.â
âYeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,â he takes another bite. âServes him right.â
Gojo didnât notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friendâs obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip.Â
And you didnât even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. âSorry! You justâŚhad something on thereâŚâ
âMmm, thank youâŚâ he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldnât hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.
After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasnât that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie.Â
However, Gojo couldnât focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didnât notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute.Â
Sometimes, heâd glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesnât do it. He wants to, but he canât, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him â theyâve been haunting him for the past few days now.
âFuckâŚâ heâd mutter under his breath, but you wouldnât hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didnât want to mess this date up. He couldnât afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldnât.Â
Once the movie was over, heâd walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. âDid you enjoy the movie?â
He hummed with a tilted head. âMeh, Iâve seen better. It wasnât too bad. What about you; you liked it?âÂ
You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. âYeah, it was okay. Thereâs better stuff out there.â
âYou just saying that to agree with me?âÂ
âNo, maybe youâre reading my mind and copying my answers.â You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.
He then asks, âSoâŚdid I do good with this?â He canât lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:
âI think so. You treated me to good food, didnât try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.â You jokingly punch his chest. âYeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.â
He snickers lightly, âGood, I donât think I can take another day of you being mad at me.â That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch youâ
âI can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.â And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. âYour subtlety is wearing thin.â
Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. âWhat makes you think so?â
You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. âYou were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?â
âYes.â You expected a different answer â something more playful â and itâs why you couldnât breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. âInfintely.â
Suddenly, the cold air didnât bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. âAm I on your mind right now?â He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, âWhat are you thinking about?â
âI wanna kiss you.â He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. âI want to hold you like I did before.â The hand clutching yours gets firmer. âI want youâŚJust you.â
The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. âI want you tooâŚSatoru.â
When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.
Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips â fuck, how he missed the sounds youâd make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them.Â
This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right â being with each other â with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.
So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldnât get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each otherâs clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed.Â
His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.
He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, âHahhh, Satoru, please touch me moreâŚâ
He lifts his lips from your clavicle, âOf course, princess; you know I always got you.â He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what heâs about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when itâs hardened, you gasp.Â
But it doesnât stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties.Â
You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. âAhhnn! Satoru, SatoruâMmmmâŚâ He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers.Â
When he thinks youâre ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more.Â
âHooohhh, mmmmhâŚRight there, right thereeeâŚpleaseâOhoooâŚ!â You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.
âMmmâŚyou close, pretty?â Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. âHold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetieâŚâ
You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.
âHoly shit,â he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. âI fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.â He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.
Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesnât make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! Iâm gonna cum, IâmââAhhahnn!!â
Thatâs when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; youâd think heâs sucking the life out of you. But you canât blame him; the boy is starved for you.
He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when youâre done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and itâs there that you notice he doesnât have the rubber on.
âIâŚI forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.â He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that heâs a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.
ââŚHow good is your pull-out game?â You ask, half-jokingly.
His white brows trench together. âAre you sure?âÂ
You nod and kiss him on the cheek. âI trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?âÂ
He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.
ââHnnn! HâHooooly fuck,â with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. âOh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..â
You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. âOhhhh, fuck, you too, âtoruâŚOh my GodâŚâ
Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh â a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.
Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. Youâre so fucking beautiful, and heâs so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldnât want it any other way â he wants to belong to you and you with him. Itâs a dream heâd kill to have with you.
âY/nâŚâ he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. âCan IâŚBe your boyfriend?â
You didnât have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.
ââAhahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!â Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. âYou want meâŚ.Mmnph! To be yourââ
âYes! Oh, fuckâŚyes!â He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! âI wanna be yours, and I want you to be mineâHoooohâŚ.No one elseâsâŚ!â
âNnahhâŚ!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuckâŚ!â Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! ââŚRâReally?â
âYeah, really, really.â He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. âLetâs be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazyâHannhh!! Shit, shit⌠I donât want to hide this anymore â to hurt my cutie anymore. Letâs make this official so I can be with you without worries.â He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. âWhatcha say, princess, hmm? Letâs be togetherâŚ.HmmmâŚ!â
Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentineâs Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs â now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie!Â
And yet, you couldnât find any reason to say no! Thereâs no denying it â those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and youâd want to throw all that away? Hell no!Â
ââMmm, yessss,â you canât help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. âYesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss â pleaseâŚtake care of me!â
Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision.Â
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; itâs coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. âMaahhh! âToruuu, Iâm gonna cummâŚ! Quick, pull outâOooooo!!âÂ
Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt.Â
He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl.Â
The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.
He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. âHahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.â
âMhmm,â you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck.Â
âHey,â he traces a finger along your collarbone. âWanna skip classes tomorrow?â
Your eyebrows draw upward. âOne day of Valentineâs isnât enough?â
âNope~. Plus, I wanna make up a weekâs worth of not being around you.â
âPfft, sure,â you stifled a laugh. âBut you need a single day to do all that?âÂ
He lifts his head with a grin. âWell, we donât have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.â He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. âWhy? You doubt I can do it?â
âYouâre free to prove me wrong,â you give him a sneer. âI suggest you start getting to work.â You didnât expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you canât fight the giggles from his playful manner.
âWith pleasure,â he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
âPsst, oh my God, do you see that?â
âHoly shit, this canât be real!â
âWoahâŚAm I in the right universe?â
âSatoru, I told you people would stareâŚhurry and let go of my handââ
âNope! I like where your hand is right now~.â
It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentineâs Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about ânothing to be scared of â everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.
After that date successfully went well â and won your heart in more ways than one, youâll admit â you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!
Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you canât go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojoâs fingers tighten the grasp around yours.Â
Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count â hell, you even saw Professor Gakunajiâs eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyoneâs mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldnât stand being within armâs length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.
Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this â of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You donât think youâve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasnât a problem because heâd happily make sure you didnât think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommateâs jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.
And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga â who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojoâs part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation.Â
You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! âHey, Satoruââ
âYeeeess~?â He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his.Â
âDo we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrowââ
âHuuuh!!? But Iâm taking you out tomorrow!â You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriendâs reaction, immediately swapping gossip when theyâre out of your vision. âBesides, theyâll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.âÂ
You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again.Â
âHey,â he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that youâre gazing up at him. âItâs gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?â And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. âAnd now that I finally have you to myself â officially! â donât think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!â
On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You canât seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. âYouâre too silly, SatoruâŚâ
âUhh, are we interrupting something?âÂ
With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you.Â
You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. âHâHi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.â
âYeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,â Shokoâs brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, âI can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.â
âUhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!â You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.
Geto laughs, âOh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! Itâs good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.â
âOhhh, câmon now, weâre notââ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. âWaitâŚ.You knew?â
Geto hums as confirmation. âYeah? Gojo told me.â
Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?
âMe?â Silver brows hang up at the statement. âI never said anything.â
Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. âWhat are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, andââ
âWoah, woah, woah.â Gojoâs fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows heâs in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. âWhat picture?â
âUhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentineâs?â When we WHAT!? âHold on, lemme pull it up from our messagesâŚYeah, this one.â
The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.
Getoâs phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojoâs bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Getoâs question, âYo, you two made up already?â To which the taller figure says, âYeah, kissed and made up. :3â
âGojooooâŚ.â
Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko.Â
âSATORUUUU!!!â
You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where heâs supposed to be â supposedly by your side. But youâre not surprised to see that heâs gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.
âHâHey now, Y/n,â He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasnât ready for. âCalm down for me, okay, princess?â
âYouâŚAre soâŚFucKING DEAD!!!â
And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two.Â
Itâs weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each otherâs love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.
And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, itâs now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.
 Itâs a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.
âCOME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!â
âNO, YOUâRE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!â
And you two wouldnât want it any other way.Â
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hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3
Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?
Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.
A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two
The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.
A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.
Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.
"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?
A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.
Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."
"..You're not going to try and stop me?"
You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.
"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.
You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.
That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."
You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.
Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.
Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.
Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.
Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.
Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.
And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.
Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.
Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.
There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.
"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.
"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."
"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.
Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.
The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.
"Good morning."
"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.
"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."
"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."
"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."
"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.
The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.
Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.
It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.
Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.
Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.
Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.
Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."
"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"
"Now Alfred."
That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.
Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.
That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.
"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.
The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.
"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.
Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.
He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."
Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.
As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.
"Holy shit- are those real?"
"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.
"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."
Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.
Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.
Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.
Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.
Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?
Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.
"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.
"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.
"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."
"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.
"She's gone."
"Well, I don't care."
There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."
You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."
His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."
"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."
He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.
"You can't leave me."
"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."
"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."
Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.
#yananswers#anon submission#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere dc imagine#yandere dc x reader#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batfamily#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere jason todd x reader#yandere dick grayson x reader#yandere tim drake x reader#yandere damian wayne x reader
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Slashers with a significant other who is a cam girl and wants them to be in one of their videos? đ
2 posts in 2 days who do I think I am? See ya'll in a year! /j
CW: NSFW
You do Cam Work and Ask the Slashers to be in your Videos:
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas is pretty conservative when it come to sex and such, but he's come around to your cam work, especially since you let him help with the details.
You like when he picks what you were or what scene you might do. You made Thomas feel like a part of it and that made him comfortable with it.
Still, he's very surprised when you ask if he wants to do a video with you. He refuses immediately and you respect that.
You ask again a while later but with more details. Like nobody would know who he was, you would keep his face out of the shot, and the two of you will do whatever he is comfortable with.
Your first video with him is of you riding him. His head isn't in the shot but the rest of his frame is. The size difference goes hard and your audience agrees.
Thomas is a flustered mess when you sit to read with comments with him. Everyone is talking about the new man in your video, gushing about how big he is and how attentive he is. Even with his size it seems your audience could sense his gentle soul, commenting on the chemistry you both have and how they would love to see him again!
Thanks to all the lovely comments, Thomas agrees to do another video even if he doesn't see himself putting his face on camera any time soon.
Michael Myers
Michael honestly does not care that you do cam work.
When you first ask him to be in a video, he pretty much ignores it.
But when you ask again some time later he doesn't see why not.
As long as his face isn't in the video or anything, you can film it, he doesn't really care.
The videos you make with him afterwards are pretty similar to your first video with him.
Usually you bent over while Michael fucks you to tears.
Michael is barely in the shot most of the time. Sometimes it just a close up on you, other times it includes Michael but only ever getting at high as his chest.
Everyone is obsessed with your mystery man. Where did he come from? What was that scar from? Can we see more of him please!!!
Jason Voorhees
We all know that Jason's comfort levels with sex is extremely low and it takes a while for him to become comfortable with physical intimacy. So cam work is certainly going to take some time for him to come around to.
And once he's become more comfortable with that, it's going to take a whole lot longer before he feels comfortable being in a video.
When he does decide to give it a go, he is a real hit!
He refuses to show his face on camera and you do whatever it takes to make sure he is as comfortable as possible.
Before Jason says you can use his name in videos and descriptions, your audience referred to him as 'the gentle giant', which is completely accurate!
No matter your usual content, Jason is nothing but gentle with you when he's in a video.
Brahms Heelshire
Watches your videos over and over again, he loves them. He'll watch you record them and watch them later once you've posted them. He can't get enough.
He's already got his pants off when you ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. You end up fucking even though you're not filming it.
He actually doesn't have much of a problem with having his face on camera. He's still a little insecure about his facial burns but you have alleviated most of that by this point.
And after the first video and he reads all those positive comments. Some are as horny for him as they are for you.
Fully embraces his new pornstar identity. He's insufferable.
He'll be in any video you want and your audience love watching you take care of your needy brat.
Bo Sinclair
Bo is in fully support of your work, it brings some money in and he gets to watch your videos. Even if his possessiveness still often gets the better of him. Whenever he reads comments of people praising you, Bo has an insatiable need to bend you over something just to prove a point.
Gets all cocky and arrogant when you ask if he wants to be in a video.
Needless to say, he agrees to do it.
And he takes to it pretty easily. He knows how to get all of his favourite reactions from you, how to get you pleading and begging for him, and he wants everyone watching to know.
Bo is arrogant and always smirking when the camera is on but it performs well.
He likes to how the camera and film himself entering you. He really does have a terrible ego.
Vincent Sinclair
It gets Vincent flustered, he could admit that, but he appreciates the artistic side of it all. It takes more effort and consideration than one might think!
He likes helping you get ready for a video and taking care of you afterwards.
He's hesitant when you first ask if he wants to be in a video. A part of him wants to do it with you but he's not confident enough in himself.
But he loves making you feel good and at this point he knows he's good at it, so he gives it a try. You can film them without posting them after all, like practise runs.
He may never show his face but he doesn't mind having his body on camera. Sometimes he even just hides his face with his hair instead of keeping his head out of the shot completely.
On Vincent's more self-conscious days, he'll film close ups of him fingering you instead.
He's very good with his hands and your audience agrees. They are very jealous of you.
Lester Sinclair
Lester is pretty neutral on your work, but of course he absolutely loves your videos.
He's mostly just surprised and flustered when you first ask if he wants to be in one of your videos. He thinks you're perfect so he understands why people would want to watch you, but he doesn't really see why people would want to watch him.
But he still agrees to it because he's your biggest supporter!!!
Your audience love the chemistry and intimacy between you both, leaving comments about how real your videos feel.
The videos that perform best are usually the ones where the two of you forgot you were even filming, just giggling together and enjoying each other. Lester gets all nervous and shy when the camera turns on, which is adorable, but forgetting that the camera is there really does help him perform better, the sweetheart.
Your audience love your more thought out and planned videos but appreciate the occasional more relaxed video with your sweet boyfriend.
Bubba Sawyer
Super flustered by your work but he's supportive.
Is super surprised and nervous when you ask if he wants to be in a video.
He agrees to give it a try once you explain that you can always delete it and nobody has to see it if he changes his mind or doesn't like it.
Bubba is just a big sweetie really, and you know just how to turn him into a squirming, blubbering mess.
And your audience love to watch you do it!
In later video's you do, you use the viewers' comments to fluster him even further. Using all the kindest and sweetest comments that say how lovely he is .
Come on, Bubs, they love you, they're being so nice. Why don't you say thank you?
Billy Lenz
Billy loves watching your videos and when you ask if he wants to be in a video with you, he is so excited!
He's completely down to make some home videos but he's a little unsure about putting it online for other people to see.
So you make it so his face isn't visible and let him watch the final edit before uploading it. He thinks it's so hot, he can't say no.
Honestly, you could do really well with just audios alone though. People will go wild for it. Billy unable to keep his mouth shut, all those desperate moans and whines and noises, the sticky wet slapping of skin. Honestly, a video element is just a bonus at this point.
And who gets off to the video the most? Billy obviously!
Asa Emory (The Collector)
Asa monitors your accounts anyway, even if you don't know it. He wants to know what you're posting and how people are responding. Don't want any bullies or trolls, right?
He's probably tried to manipulate you into suggesting it anyway.
He doesn't have much of a problem with your cam work, he's just a possessive bastard and would love to claim you in front of your entire audience.
The mask stays on!
Okay, he designs a new mask to avoid any chance of self criminalisation but whatever.
You two can make it big in BDSM communities.
Ties you up, blindfolds you, gags you. Whatever he feels like, but often seems to focus the camera on your reactions rather than on what he is doing to you. Studying his favourite little specimen.
Your audience already adored you of course, but they also love this new Dom you brought it.
There is no doubt as to who you belong to now.
Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)
Obviously Jesse has no problem with being on camera and he already has a pretty big ego, so he'll probably even wear the Chromeskull mask. It's his signature whether it's for his snuff films or your cam work.
Like Asa, you do absolute numbers in the BDSM community. Everyone is very pleased with his fully suited up, masked Dom that you brought in.
He already has his Chromeskull persona all fleshed out so he just brings that energy to your videos.
He's a sadistic Dom and you might have to upload an Aftercare video at some point just to reassure your more loyal audience that you're alright and always well taken care of afterwards.
Otis Driftwood
Is obviously a fan of your videos and isn't going to stop you from making them. You aren't actually fucking anyone else, so he's cool with it. And if he feels particularly jealous or possessive at some point, he knows he's the only one who can actually pin you down and have his way with you.
Oh yeah, he's down to make a few videos with you. He's probably got some old tapes of his own somewhere, long forgotten. He's not shy.
Says the filthiest shit, it kinda becomes his think on your platform.
Otis can be absolutely disgusting but, fortunately, there is an audience for that and they flood to your videos.
Calls you all sorts of names, asks you if you get off on knowing everyone is going to watch him fuck you. That everyone is going to see all the things you let him do to you.
Baby Firefly
Baby loves that you do cam work, she loves performing. She happily does your hair and makeup, she helps you pick out costumes and which toys you'll use in that video.
Hell, she's even filmed a video or two for you!
She's your number one supporter so of course she jumps on camera as soon as you ask if she wants to be in a video.
The two of you are all dolled up and she's magnetic, the audience love her as much as they love you.
The two of you are absolute menaces if you decide to do a livestream, pulling in huge donations because Baby is going to pout and taunt. Why should the two of you put on a show if they're not showing their appreciation properly?
Baby is the type to respond to very low donations with "it's alright, you can just say you're poor". She never promised to play nice and she just thinks you're worth more than that!!!
You end up apologising for her.
People are into it though.
Yautja (Predator)
Your mate doesn't quite get it but he's cool with it.
Is hard as soon as you ask if he wants to be in a video. Yautja's aren't very conservative or prudish when it comes to sex and nudity, so you weren't too surprised.
He loves the thought of taking you, of claiming you, and everyone knowing that you're his mate. That he's a worthy mate for you.
Even when he's a regular feature in your videos, he doesn't completely understand it, he just knows he's into it.
Everyone loves to watch you try to take him fully, the struggle, the determination, the satisfaction when you manage it.
You have cornered the Monster Fucker market. They don't know if it's real, if it's a very elaborate costume, or very realistic animation, either way they are eating it up.
All the other performers who use alien dildos and such are super jealous, obviously.
#thomas hewitt x reader#michael myers x reader#jason voorhees x reader#brahms heelshire x reader#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#bubba sawyer x reader#billy lenz x reader#otis driftwood x reader#baby firefly x reader#chromeskull x reader#jesse cromeans x reader#asa emory x reader#the collector x reader#yautja x reader#predator x reader#slashers x reader#slasher#slashers#slasher x reader#my writing
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Peer Pressure
CW: Hypnosis
I stood quietly and unobtrusively off in a corner of the âslumber partyâ trying my best not to bother anyone. Occasionally I glanced over at my friend Kelsey who was talking animatedly with some girls and wondered why she had insisted I come along. Of course I had agreed at the time, it seemed like a good way to make friends. But now that I was hereâŚI couldnât bring myself to try talking to anyone. I fixed my eyes on the cup of water in my hand. This was all⌠fine, I was just being Kelsey's designated driver. I was being helpful, like a good friend should be. It didnât matter if I had fun or not.Â
I zoned out enough that when Kelsey tapped me on the shoulder I jumped
âDid you really just stand in the corner this whole time? Geez come on you goof its time for the movie!âÂ
She took my arm and dragged me toward the TV. Both couches were full so I ended up sitting cross legged on the ground in front of them. Kelsey was about to sit next to me before she was suddenly pulled away to sit with some other girls, so now I was just sitting next to two strangers. They didn't seem to mind me, but they didn't introduce themselves either.
The lights go off and the movie starts, the chatter dies down as everybody watches. It seemed like there was something wrong with the audio, there was an odd droning sound playing under the movie. But it wasnât loud enough to be annoying and nobody else seemed to notice so I kept quiet. The movie was honestly kinda boring, I glanced around and accidentally made eye contact with someone doing the same thing. I felt myself blush and turned back to pay attention. The movie kept going and after a while I started to space out. I was so out of it that when something changed it took me a while to notice. The movie wasnât playing anymore, or maybeâŚthis was part of the movie? The screen just showed a pink and purple spiral spinning around and around. The droning had gotten louder. How long had the spiral been on the screen? I couldnât remember. I looked to the girl on my right, about to ask if something was wrong with the movie. But she was just staring at the screen, focused. I noticed everyone else was doing much the same. I quickly turned back to the screen, not wanting to embarrass myself. As I watched I tried to remember what had been happening in the movie for this to make sense, the spiral and been going for at least a few minutes now, but the more I tried the more the details of the movie seemed fuzzy and distant. I stared intently at the screen, trying to find out what everyone else was looking atâŚ
I blinked when there was suddenly someone sitting in front of me. I only noticed because she waved her hand in front of my face after she sat down. She was backlit by the spiral on the screen and she smiled at me.Â
âHey thereâ she said softly âFirst time here?â
I just nodded feeling strangely dizzy.
âKelsy said she was bringing someone knew, is that you?â
I nodded again, she was gazing intently at me and I started to feel self conscious, I averted my eyes and saw that everyone else was still just staring at the spiral
âWell Kelsy has good taste, youâll be lovelyâ
I blush, not expecting the compliment
âUm thanksâ I mumble no longer able to meet her eyes. She was grinning at me now
âAre you ready?â
âUhâŚfor what?â
âTo learn about the button that turns off your brainâÂ
I blinked as I tried to sort through the nonsense statement
âThe what?â
She giggled and pointed off to my leftÂ
âJust watch, youâll get the ideaâ
I looked and saw she was pointing at the girls sitting on one of the couches, all of their eyes were glued to the spiral. As I watched, another girl came up behind them. Starting with the girl on the far left, she leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Then reached over and tapped her on the forehead. At once, she went limp. Head lolling forward, eyes closed. She slumped into the girl sitting next to her, who jolted as if suddenly startled awake, eyes blinking rapidly. But the girl behind the couch simply reached over and tapped her on the forehead as well. And suddenly both girls seemed to be fast asleep leaning into each other. The girl behind the couch smiled and gave them both a pat on the head before moving on to the rest of the couch
âYou see? All good girls like you have a button that turns off their brainâÂ
I was staring open mouthed at the girls now asleep on the couch
âButâŚbut Iâm not-â
âShhhhhâ
I felt a hand on my cheek, and my head was turned to face the girl in front of me again. I was blushing like crazy now and I stammered something incoherent. The girl just smiled kindly
âDonât worry, you won't be bothered by that kind of stuff soonâ
Hand still on my cheek, she turned my head to the right, where I watched the girl sitting right next to me get tapped on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she slumped back, mouth open and drooling.
âIsnât she pretty?âÂ
She put her hand below my chin and made me nod, I hardly noticed I was just staring at the girl
âDoesnât she look beautiful, all sleepy like that?â
She made me nod again
âDonât you want to look like that?â
I nodded, I wasnât sure if she made me or not
She turned my head to face her again. Her other hand was held up in front of me, her index finger pointed at me. My eyes focused on the tip of her finger
âW-waitâ
âNighty nightâ
She tapped me on the forehead
#hypnosis#hypnok1nk#mind control#brainwashing#hypnotized#shortstory#hypnostory#let me know if you like it#I might do a sequel
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If I'm not pushing my luck, can you write something about you being the first hairy person that an elf has been with? Cause I was thinking about it and what if the first human(s) they've been with all shaved and they thought it was standard for us like it was for them, having no hair and all? I really do think they would be both confused and very curious/enthusiastic about it. And what if you were a bit self conscious about it too? đŞ Thank you I'm in love with your stories!!
Hi there! For everyone who hastn't read it, here's the question that started this idea. Enjoy!
Full bush
Elf x fem!reader || oral sex, pussy worship, body hair appreciation
When you got together you thought he already knew all he needed to know about humans. He was with a couple humans before you, two males and one female, so you thought he already knew... But you were wrong.
First time he saw you naked he stared. And stared. And stared some more to the point you got self conscious about it and ended up putting your clothes back on. You slept very unconfortab that night, and he said nothing. You might have cried a tiny bit. Next day he stared at you even with your clothes on, his eyes fixated in your genitals as you looked at him like he was the weird one (which he was). Later that day he broke down and asked you why did you have hair, if it was some kind of birth defect. You almost threw him out the house, but you breathed deeply and proceeded to explain to him that humans had body hair, that it was normal. He then explained that his previous humans had shaved or something because they were as hairless as elves and that's why he was so surprised when you took off your clothes. You understood his reasoning, but you were still a bit self-conscious, human culture already told you it was bad for you to have body hair, but you weren't about to let your elf boyfriend get away with it, too.
So you didn't take your clothes in front of him. Every time you slept together you put your pj's, not looking at him, and went to sleep with that. You weren't a fan of sleeping with clothes, but a woman had to do what a woman had to do. You could feel him hard behind you, but you weren't ready to face that disappointment and staring at your full bush.
But he wasn't having any of that.
By the fifth time you stayed at his house, he stopped you as you were getting undressed. You looked up at him in surprise, just to see his face flushed and a big tent in his sweatpants. "I- I want to see you," he stuttered.
"What?" You asked, your shirt halfway up your torso.
"I- I want to see your body hair," he confessed in a low tone. He looked so cute at the moment, but you were so fucking confused. You thought he hated your body hair.
You couldn't get the surprise out of your voice: "You do?"
"Yes. I- I liked it." He grabbed his dick and readjusted it, the tip pocking at the waistband of his sweatpants. Your mouth was salivating just looking at him shirtless and with those sinful grey sweatpants.
"You liked it?" You asked, your whole body vibrating with anticipation.
"Very much so..." He said, lowering his pants to let you see his erection already leaking profusely. You licked your lips and got undressed.
He stared and stared, and when your panties were finally on the ground, he licked his lips like you were his next snack. And good goddess if you weren't. He threw you on the bed and went down on you for hours. Your legs trembling around his head as he went to town and told you how great you were, how good you tasted and how glad he was that he discovered you had body hair. He sounded mesmerized by the fact and it made you blush as hard as ever as you came against his lips again.
By the time he was done, there was a pool of your juices under you and his face was completely drenched, but what surprised you more was the puddle of cum under him. You asked and he blushed hard, running to the bathroom to get you a towel.
Later, you discovered that he got so excited about you and your body hair and your pussy that he came at least four times while he ground against the mattress and eat you out. It was so hot thinking he got so worked up just by you being you that you had to push him down and blow him until he was crying.
You've never been so glad of his elf stamina.
#elf x human#elf#elf x reader#elf x you#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster x reader#terato#monster boyfriend#monster love#monster fuqqer#monster kink#monster lover#monster romance#monster smut#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft#request
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Thinking about Isagi Yoichi going absolutely insane when someone talks shit about you, his one and only girlfriend.
And I'm not saying insane as in "Don't talk about her like that!". I'm saying insane as in "Say her name again with that filthy mouth of yours and I swear I'll cut your fucking tongue off."
He can handle people badmouthing him. It's not that deep, really. He's a football player, so, like every other athlete, he has fans and haters all around the globe (more fans than haters, but anyways). So, he developed the hability to just tune off all the hateful comments. Badmouth him all you want, that ain't changing the fact that he's a sucessful all star player and you're not.
What he can't handle, though, is when someone tries to talk shit about his relationship with you, his favorite person in the whole world.
Sadly for the media, you're not a famous singer or model. Yoichi and you met when you were both still little kids, dreaming about monsters, princesses and the world cup trophy. In kindergarten, he thought you were a very great friend. He realized you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen when you were middle schoolers, and, by the time high school came, he had already learned to accept the fact that he was head over heels for you. And so, like a "straight out of a movie" kind of scene, he confessed his love for you all sweaty and smiling in front of the whole world after his winning goal at the Blue Lock XI against Japan U20 match two years ago.
So yeah, you and Isagi had a cute love story. Every video of you together had millions of views and thousands of "couple goals" comments, and people loved you (honestly, how could they not? You're amazing, he's not even sure how he managed to make you fall for his "football rizz" or something, but he's glad you did anyways).
Apparently, not everyone appreciated you as much as he thought.
"Isagi, one minute of your time, please!"
"Isagi, for french press right here!"
"Yoichi, answer my question!"
"Wow. One at a time, guys!" Isagi smiled nervously yet kindly, sitting in a chair in front of the mass of reporters from all across the world who came just to interview him.
Smiling again, Isagi pointed at one of the what seemed like thousands interviewers.
"The lady over there, with the Sae Itoshi shirt"
"Thank you for the opportunity" The room became silent. The woman, seemingly in her late twenties, smiled "I'm Sol, from Spain's national TV press. I'd like to ask a question you about your relationship with (Name) (Surname)"
Smiling wide like a lovesick fool like he always did when someone mentioned you or your relationship, Yoichi urged the reporter to continue.
"Sure. Go ahead."
"It's a known fact that you and (Name) (Surname) have been in a relationship for a little over two years. And so, your fans are wondering: do you plan on getting married shortly?"
The silence in the room was papable. All the cameras and microphones turned to a now strawberry red Yoichi. But he wasn't embarassed because of all the attention he was getting or from the fact that the whole world was seeing this right now. He was used to this feeling of "pressure" already.
He was red because he knew you were watching this interview. He was the one who asked you to do so, after all.
"Uhm... well" he swallowed hard, eyes avoiding the cameras "We have a healthy and happy relationship. We both love each other very much and spend a lot of time together. So... I guess I'd be lying if I told you I haven't thought about it before, but..."
He couldn't even finish his sentence. The press' reaction was instantaneous. Cameras' flashes everywhere and the reporters voices overlaping eachother filled the room.
"BUT" Isagi tried to continue, but just gave up on shouting since his voice couldn't compete with the voice of the lots of reporters. So, he just said to the mic in front of him, almkst whispering, hoping it would capture his voice "I think it's still a little early. I want to make sure we're both mature and financially secure first!"
Reporters were still talking and trying to get his attention. With a sigh, he realized they wouldn't stop shouting until the next question came.
"T-the guy with the light shirt"
"Argentinian press right here" the man started.
Oh oh. Yoichi didn't sense a good vibe from this man. He doesn't know if it's his smirk or his posture, but something feels off. He looks almost dangerous.
I'm probably going crazy, Yoichi thought.
When the man opened his mouth again, though, Isagi realized his intuition was right all along.
"I know you said you love your girlfriend, but you do realize the fans think your girl is just keeping you from becoming the best version of yourself, right?"
Oh, for fuck's sake.
"What." Isagi said, the words coming out in a rather forced way.
Unlike before, the silence in the room was not only palpable. It was now suffocating, uncomfortable.
"Well, it's clear as water" the man shrugged, as if what he was saying made a lot of sense "She is stopping you from becoming the number one striker in the world."
All Isagi wanted to do now was jump across the room and send his fist flying straight to the man's face. He wanted it to realize how utterly wrong he was. How your relationship was actually the best thing that had ever happened in his life, and how he would have probably given up on football have you not begged him to go to the Blue Lock program.
And the though of you sweet, caring you watching this made Yoichi give up on his idea of hitting the man straight on the nose, even if his body was trembling just from thinking about it.
I have to keep my cool. For her.
"Why..." he swallowed. Hard. "Why do you think this is truth?"
"You're not using your time wisely. Instead of practicing, your wasting it because you keep giving for futile things like a relationship"
Oh, how much Yoichi wanted to jump this ugly looking clown. How he wished to hit him hundreds of times, over and over again until he swallowed his own words. Until he regretted ever learning how to even speak.
His fist was already trembling. He was taking deep breaths to keep himself steady.
But it seems like the argentinian doesn't know when to stop.
"Also, it gets kinda tiring living with the same person for a long time, no?" The man laughed "I wouldn't blame you if you're actually cheating on her too, I honestly wouldn't have just one girl if I was you. I mean, you're a star and she's just..."
"Shut. the fuck. up."
All the cameras turned to him again. Yoichi was red. But it's not cause he was embarassed, like the other time.
He was red because he was seething with boiling rage.
I'll kill him. I swear I'll fucking kill this dumb shit.
"Never" Yoichi narrowed his eyes "And I mean never say my girlfriend's name with that disgusting voice of yours again. If you as much as look at her, consider yourself fucking dead." He got up from the table, gaze harder than the one he wears on the field "That woman is the source of my happiness, and you have no right to talk about her like that. If you talk with me with respect you have to show respect for her too. Are we clear? Or is your skull too fucking thick for the information to get into it?
"Calm down, amigo! I was just saying what the fans think." The man smirked, gald to get a reaction from Isagi. If looks could kill, he would have been 6 feet under already "They think it would be better if you both break up..."
"You've fucking done it."
Yoichi jumped from the table, ready to kill the man.
He wanted to crush his skull with his bare hands, to show him just how much you mean to him and how mad he gets when someone mentions you in a degrading way.
Gladly, the japanese PR team removed the man from the room before things could get worse, or else Yoichi would realky have done some damage (he was an athlete, after all).
Watching the man leave the room with furrowed brows and a subtle pout (he really wanted to beat him, after all), Iaagu decided to use this moment to make some things clear. So, he turned to the main mic again.
"I hope this serves as a lesson" Yoichi said, somehow managing to look at almost all of the cameras at the same time "To everyone watching this. Don't expect to talk shit about my girlfriend and get out with all of your teeth in place. I fucking dare anyone to badmouth her. I won't let you get away with it." He glared at one of the cameras "This press ends now."
He then quickly got out of the room, ignoring all the reporters who tried to get him to come back.
With a sigh, once he was in the changing room, he grabbed his phone, not surprised to see almost 20 missed calls and 50 missed massages from you.
(My love â¤ď¸)
-> YOICHI???
-> WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING
-> (1 missed call)
Don't worry, I'm going home now đ <-
Miss you â¤ď¸ <-
-> Typing...
With a smile, he put his phone in his pocket and started to go home.
Man, he just really wanted to see you. Specially since he knew that the next day, the press would want more interviews about what happened.
Whatever. What really matters is that, at the end of the day, you're his and he's yours. And no amount of dumb reporters or media will ever change that.
~ A/N: not proofread. This sucks đ I wrote this to stop my growing Aiku obsession LOL
Masterlist
#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#bllk manga#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x you#bllk isagi#isagi x y/n#isagi x reader#blue lock isagi#isagi yoichi#isagi x you#yoichi isagi x reader#i love isagi#i pove him guys#bllk fluff#isagi fluff#blue lock fluff#isagi yoichi fluff
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Just One
DBF!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 819 (she just a baby!)
Summary: Youâre still worked up even though Joelâs tapped out for the night. Maybe you need a kiss to satisfy youâa simple, sweet kiss. Right?
Content/Tags: Reader is able-bodied and has female sex anatomy, but is otherwise undescribed. Pussy pronouns (she)!! 18+ MDNI. Making out. Bulge grinding đ let me know if thereâs anything I missed!
A/N: @pinkypromisepascal and I had a conversationâŚand then I said I wanted to write a drabble based on what we talked about, to which she said âDO IT.â So I did. Yâall better thank her brain for this too!đââď¸ and to @strang3lov3, thank you for the extra pair of eyes AND THE MOODBOARD!!!đ I love you both so much. To everyone, I hope you enjoy, all my love xx
masterlist | notifs blog
Itâs been thirty minutes.Â
Thirty minutes since Joel had you folded nearly in half, your legs pressed against your torso, the slam of his hips pushing you higher up his mattress.Â
Thirty minutes since he made your eyes roll back, throat burning in pleasure.Â
Thirty minutes since he wiped you clean and massaged your hips.Â
Itâs been thirty minutes.Â
And heâs knocked the fuck out.Â
You sit up in his bed. Youâre not here very often. Ever, really. It was by chance you stayed over tonight. So you study the area. Take his space in. The painting and posters above his bed. The nightstand. The white fan sitting on his dresser, pointing directly at him. He runs hot when he sleeps. Too hot.Â
Your eyes trace his figure, then. His broad back on display, hips covered by his sheets.Â
His face. God, his face. Salt and pepper scruff around the edges, smile lines and furrowed eyebrow lines adorning his face. Theyâre not as harsh now as he succumbs deeper into his slumber, but theyâre present nonetheless.Â
His hooked nose sits prettily, the same nose that had you squirming and gasping for air earlier in the night. Your core flutters at the thought.Â
Youâre looking at his lips now, and you canât help the way your own forms a smirk.Â
âJoel,â you whisper.Â
A rock. Unmoving. Unfazed.Â
On your knees now, you shuffle to face him. Leaning forward, hand on his shoulder to nudge him, you try again.Â
âJoel.âÂ
âHm?â his sleepy voice rasps.Â
âI need your help,â you respond.Â
One eye peels open. His eyebrows move into their natural habitat, furrowed. âWhatâs wrong, darlinâ?âÂ
You put on your sweetest face. âCan I have a kiss?âÂ
You stifle a giggle at the daggers being thrown at you. âJesus,â he mutters. âHave you been up this whole time?âÂ
âItâs been thirty minutes,â you retort.Â
âNo, it ainâtââ you gesture to his clock before he can finish his thought. He faces it immediately, throwing his face back into his pillow with an incoherent grumble. âSleep,â he finally says.Â
âI will, sleeping beauty,â you giggle. âCan I please have a kiss first? Just one,â you ask again, lowering your voice an octave, a tone he can never deny.Â
He flips himself over, so heâs more on his back now. âItâs never just one.â
âThatâs not true,â you fake pout, leaning closer in, letting the tips of your nose dance.
âYou said one kiss months ago. Look where that got us.â His breath fans against your lips.
âI donât see you complaining,â you whisper, your body on fire with this conversation.Â
You let your lips finally meet, soft and sweet, but the heat building in your cheeks keeps you from breaking the seal. Without thinking, you climb on top of him, straddling him as your hands find the base of his neck, the length beneath you already beginning to stir.Â
You break away for less than a second before you bring your lips to his again, but heâs quick to stop you, a shit-eating grin between his cheeks. âThought ya said one?â He breathes.Â
âShut up,â you murmur, smashing your lips against his once more as your tongue coasts the expanse of his bottom lip, the taste of you from earlier still lingering.Â
âShit, sugar,â he groans into your mouth, his hips bucking into you on their own accord. âSheâs still so needy, ainât she? That why ya canât sleep?â
His bulge catches perfectly where you need him most, pulling a whimper from the back of your throat. âPlease, baby,â you pant.Â
âTold ya âs never jusâ one kiss,â he rasps as his heavy hands grab at your waist, guiding your hips into a more frenzied rhythm.
âYouâre right,â you cry, eyes clamping shut, nothing but the sweet sounds of your ecstasy blessing his ears.Â
Too blissed out to continue kissing him, you bring your lips to his jaw, nipping and licking the places you can reach. With a few harsh grinds of your hips, youâre moaning out into his earâhis partially deaf one, luckilyâwith millions of white sparkles flashing beneath your eyelids. Joelâs breathing stops at the same moment your body convulses, strangled grunts leaving his throat as he adds to your mess of his boxers.Â
âShe satisfied, yet?â He hums as you lay across his sweaty chest.
âMmm,â you pretend to think it over. âI think itâs her turn for a kiss now.âÂ
Joel scoffs. You can hear his smile with it.Â
You lift your head to look him in the eyes, a faux innocence in the way you jut out your bottom lip. âJust one, baby,â you reason with him.
Joel tosses you to your unspoken side of the bed. âSleep.âÂ
âButââ
âSheâll get her kiss in the morning.âÂ
Your eyes nearly pop out at the realization of his words. âG-Goodnight, baby,â you reply quickly.Â
ââS what I thought. Gânight, darlinâ.â
I would love to hear what you guys think! I love you all so much, thank you for always sticking by my side and supporting me always. You all are my happy place. Wouldn't be where I am without you.đŠś
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can helpđľđ¸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedrostories#fic#smut fic#drabble#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller x female reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut#joel miller drabble#fic: just one
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cherrybomb || csc
(banner by @sailorrhansol)
cherrybomb seungcheol x afab reader || angst smut fluff || exes2lovers, pacific rim universe NSFW - minors DNI
Summary: Piloting a jaeger requires a rare ability called drifting - a neural connection with your co-pilot. You and Seungcheol are masters of the drift... until you have something in your head that you don't want him to see.
wc: 19.5k
warnings: language, heavy angst with happy ending, fight scenes, fight scenes written by an author with zero fighting or martial arts knowledge lmfao thus they are vague as possible, feelings heavy plot light and smut light, kissing and pretty generic (and brief) p in v smut
Author's note: thank you for @sailorrhansol for 1) accidentally sparking this idea, 2) agreeing to collab with me, 3) reading this along the way and hyping me up, and 4) beta-ing my mistakes, a million smooches for you ily
This fic takes place in the Pacific Rim universe but I honestly don't think you need to know the lore, everything you need to know should be explained. If you think something is unclear without prior pacific rim knowledge, shoot me a message privately and I'll make some edits and credit you for the insight!
Also in this universe: storm breaker by @/sailorhansol
Teaser:
âMarshall, with all due respect, I donât know why youâre calling me,â you admit. âYou were there. You saw what happened. Seungcheol and I canât drift anymore.â
âYou couldnât then,â he points out. âThat was three years ago. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift⌠theyâve had time to mellow.â
Heâs wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing has mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did then.
âHave you talked to him about this?â Youâre afraid of the answer.Â
The Marshallâs voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. âMr. Choi will follow orders,â he says evenly, âand so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.â
âYou canât order us into being able to drift again,â you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest.Â
âNo,â the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, âbut I can - and will - order you to try.â
Playlist: you're the smoke in my gun, blowin' like cherry bombs...
The first time you ever saw Choi Seungcheol, he was flipping a man four years his senior over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground. Satisfied, he staggered backwards, chest heaving from exertion, eyes narrowed in preparation for the next move.
Thatâs what Seungcheol did - he leveled whatever was in front of him, and he started watching for what was coming next before the body could even hit the ground.
Thatâs what made him a great jaeger pilot. Not the brute strength - strong men are dime a dozen, always have been - but the watching.
Youâd marked him as your first choice.
You were both nineteen. Youâd grown up in the Shatterdome, the only child to a couple who piloted a neon green jaeger named Charronâs Revenge. You knew everything about how jaegers and their teams worked by the time you were nine. You started training to fight years before that. There was never a question that you would follow in your parentsâ giant, mechanical footsteps one day. You just needed the right partner.
You needed Seungcheol.
The jaeger program didnât turn away recruits - everyone could do something - but there was an organized process to match up compatible pilots. Applying recruits would fight before an audience of previously-accepted but currently-unmatched potential pilots. The pilots would rank the fighters, choosing their top five based on perceived potential for compatibility.
Then, the roles would switch. The applicants became the audience. The audience became the show.
When it was your turn to fight, you silently pleaded with the universe that Seungcheol would mark you high as well. This was the only guarantee that youâd get a chance to spar with him, to test it out before the Marshall, who would make the final call.
Let him see, you begged. Let him see how perfectly weâd work together.
And, by some miracle, he did. In fact, he rated you first, as well.
Your sparring match went exactly how you expected - he barreled at you, and you dodged every move. He could easily take you out with a single blow, but he couldnât get his hands on you, not when you used his own inertia against him at every turn. What you didnât expect was your own inability to land a shot. For the whole fight, you were unable to move out of the defensive - keeping out of his reach took all of your effort.
It was a draw - the first sign of strong compatibility.
You didnât talk after the match - your father whisked you away to recover before your second-rated match, and you didnât see Seungcheol for the rest of the day.
The second-rated match was a dud. But you already knew, even then, that it didnât matter.
Youâd met your co-pilot. Youâd found your partner.
â
He found you in the mess hall that night, dropping into an empty spot on the other side of the table, his tray in his hands. His black hair was loose and wavy, and his right arm sported a sizeable bruise that he definitely didnât get from you.
âI know who you are,â he said by way of greeting. You raised a brow at him, waiting. âYour parents piloted Charronâs Revenge.â
You narrowed your eyes at him. âThat better not be why you picked me.â
He gave his head an annoyed little flick. âOf course not. I picked you because youâre fluid - and Iâm not.â
Appeased, you felt your hackles settle back down. âThatâs true,â you allowed. âYouâre not fluid. But youâre purposeful, and-â
You were interrupted when Yoon Jeonghan dropped into the seat to your left, chuckling under his breath as he fixed his long, dark hair into a spiky ponytail at the back of his head.
âCherry, did you hear?â he asked you, ignoring the new-comer. âThe crew for Fatal Rapids got called back in for misconduct.â
âChoi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan,â you said, introducing the two young men. âHannie does more than gossip, I promise. Heâs one of the pilots for Devilâs Advocates. Their drop stats are insane.â
âIn practice only,â Jeonghan demurred. âFor now.â
âCherry?â Seungcheol parroted, raising a dark brow. âThatâs not what I wrote on my paper earlier.â
âJust a nickname,â you explained. When you were very small, youâd struggled with the name of your parentsâ jaeger, calling it Cherryâs Revenge instead of Charronâs, and the crew - who doted on you like their own - started the habit of calling you Cherry. Somehow, it had spread, and stuck. âOnly my parents use my real name. But you can call me whatever youâre comfortable with.â
âNo,â he said, frowning as if deeply considering his options. âI like it.â
You folded your arms on the table, leaning in to peer at Seungcheol. âSo, whatâs your story? Youâve heard of me. I havenât heard of you.â
He shrugged, glanced around, then decided he could talk freely. Thereâs something about being in a room thatâs positively teeming with people and conversation - it gives you privacy without feeling too intimate. Youâre not alone.
âNot much of a story, not like you,â he admitted. âI grew up thinking Iâd take over my dadâs business. We lost my dad⌠then, we lost the business. I have no marketable skillset, and university was out of the question. ButâŚâ He trailed off, then met your gaze firmly. Something in his look demanded you forgo any pity or sympathy, demanded you take him seriously. âIâm strong. So I came here. I came to fight.â
You sidestepped the bruises heâd bared. âNot like me,â you repeated with a bit of a scoff. âI hate to disappoint you, but my parents are the pilots - the story is theirs. I donât have one, not yet.â
Something playful glinted in his eyes, the first true sign of personality youâd seen. âSo all the rumors about the Princess of the Shatterdome arenât true?â
Your jaw dropped. Youâd heard the nickname before - it was never meant nicely. You tried to ignore it as best you could - people could think what they wanted. When you had a crew, when you had a jaeger, youâd be able to prove them wrong. âWhat rumors?â
âYouâre spoiled,â Jeonghan supplied, having decided he was part of the conversation after all. âEntitled.â
You spluttered as Jeonghan stood, giving you a cheerful pat on the shoulder. âAnd bitchy! Thatâs just what Iâve heard. Of course I know better. Anyway, Iâve got to go. Love ya!â
You stared incredulously after him as he disappeared, your face burning with embarrassment and your heart hammering with adrenaline. Fight, your systems told you.
If only you could.
Seungcheol bit back a smile, reaching out to pat your arm placatingly.
âI donâtâŚâ you started to say, but your voice caught in your throat. You cleared it, tried again. âI donât think I really deserve all that.â
He nodded, lips pushed into a semblance of a thoughtful pout. âWhat Iâd heard,â he said calmly, âis that youâre a hell of a fighter, scary smart, and that you take no shit. Unless itâs from your friends, apparently.â
This made a bitter little laugh bubble from you. You still simmered with humiliation, feared that maybe heâd decide he didnât want to co-pilot with you after all.
âI think itâs up to you which story gets told,â he said finally.
âYeah,â you said, nodding. âThatâs what I always said. So⌠letâs get started.â
â
You and Seungcheol lucked out - the team that had been recalled for misconduct were terminated from their posts in the weeks following the sparring trials, and their jaeger Fatal Rapids had been disassembled, the parts up for grabs.
You and Seungcheol repurposed Rapidsâs main frame, your crew working to individualize the bot to your needs as best they could. You splurged on quad-processors for her legs to allow your jaeger to keep up with how you move - quick and lithe. Seungcheol lobbied for (and won) some extra power in the top half, and you compromised and chose a mix of red and blue sections for her paintjob.
Duellona Fury, you named her. Duellona for you, the destroyer. Fury for Seungcheol, because that was where his fight came from.
You got to know Seungcheolâs fury very well. Especially when you started trying to drift.
None of it happened fast - not the building of your machine, nor your neural handshake. In fact, you didnât pilot Duellona Fury together for a whole calendar year.
You started with physical compatibility - you sparred almost all day, every day. You fought - with each other and against each other - until all you could do was lay on the ground and pant, blinking to make the ceiling stay in focus.
Seungcheol may not have grown up training in the Shatterdome the way you did, but he kept up without complaint. You learned his way - force and strength - and he learned the way you favored - to weave and dodge.
The fighting was the easy part.
You had never drifted with someone you had true drift compatibility with. Seungcheol had never drifted at all. The Marshall wouldnât even consider hooking the two of you up to the machine until you went through the proper training.
On the day you and Seungcheol were officially declared as co-pilots-in-training, you both stood below the half-built shell of your towering jaeger, sparks flying and drills screaming as the crew worked on her.
Your Marshall looked seriously at his new team-in-training. âStarting tomorrow, youâll meditate together. Talk to each other. Get deep about it. If youâve talked about it out here-â he swept an arm across the deck, â-it wonât take hold so strongly in there.â Heâd jabbed a finger in the upward direction of Duellona Fury.
Seungcheol didnât look at you, nor the Marshall. Instead, he kept his eyes on Duellona's unfinished frame, stories above you. âYes, Sir,â he said steadily.
Your parents werenât technically retired yet, the year you and Seungcheol started training together. Charronâs Revenge still sat in the well below the Shatterdome. They still lived on the base, still took part in daily training. They hadnât been called into a fight in years, though; the assignments went to the younger crews.
You took dinner in their quarters instead of the mess hall, that night.
âCongratulations,â your father said warmly from across the table. âYou worked hard to get here.â
âThank you,â you said, feeling shy beneath the praise. âI hope the drift will work for me and Choi Seungcheol.â
âWhat do you think of him?â your mother had asked, her sharp eyes honing in on you, watching your reactions.
âI think heâs a great fighter,â you said. âThe rest⌠I guess Iâll have to learn.â
âDo you trust him? Can you trust him out there, when the sea and the wind are trying to knock you down, and hell itself rises up from the depths?â
You swallowed. Sheâs right for her intensity - they will be putting their daughterâs life in her co-pilotâs hands, every time thereâs a fight. You knew firsthand how terrifying it was to stand in the tech bay and wait, not knowing if your loved ones will make it back.
You thought about how you and Seungcheol fight together in the sparring rooms. You thought about how you weaved and your opponent followed your movement, only to be knocked sideways. You thought of how Seungcheol followed your motion backwards, ducked in tandem with you to avoid a hit, and how you followed his momentum forward and up to attack. Your bodies followed each other like they were magnetized. And Seungcheol was always watching for the next hit.
âYes,â you said, so quietly that you cleared your throat and said it again. âYes, I trust him.â
âThen we wish you luck,â your father said, and raised his glass. âTo Duellona Fury.â
âTo Duellona Fury,â you echoed.
On your way out of the quarters, later, you slowed as you passed the wall where they hung their accolades and awards, the newspaper clippings, photos, and medals. Before your eyes they aged - the photographs changing through the years, no longer showing a bright, fiery couple, instead displaying proof of passing time: a baby bump, then a toddler, then a child beaming alongside them as if sheâd done what they had done; greying hairs, softening bodies, deepening of wrinkles. Then the pictures stopped.
You never asked them if they missed it.
â
You and Seungcheol started meditating together the next morning; it seemed logical to begin at the easiest step. In an empty sparring room, you sat facing each other, knees touching.
âHave you done this before?â you asked, as you both settled in, shifting weight and adjusting ankles.
âNot with someone else,â he admitted, lips protruding in a bit of a pout. âOnly alone.â
You nodded. Youâd grown up learning all of this - the right way to fight as a team member, how to be in tune for a neural connection. It led to you teaching Seungcheol often - yet when you fought together, any leadership fell away.
âNormally,â you explained, âyou focus on your breath, keeping your mind clear. But for our practice, you want to focus on our breath. We breathe together. And when your mind wanders, your awareness should be coming to peace with my presence there. Like, making a path for the neural connection - for later. So thereâs no resistance.â
âHave you done this before?â Seungcheol asked.
You wobbled your head around - not yes, but not no. âIâve practiced it - Iâve done the meditation with partners. But Iâve never moved forward to an actual drift with anyone.â
This seemed to appease him, and he settled his weight backwards, letting his hands rest near his knees.
You let your eyes float closed and inhaled, listening and feeling for Seungcheolâs inhale to end, letting your breath out when he did. It took no time to match your breaths, to let your mind go blissfully quiet. You focused on feeling open, readable - any thought that floated through your mind, you pretended he could hear, too. You tried to feel and release any defensiveness, any urge to close off.
When the timer went off, it surprised you. You opened your eyes, and the feeling that struck you was this -
It was surprising to see Seungcheol before you. It hadnât felt like he was beside you. It had felt like he was you.
You meditated, you fought, and finally, you talked.
Laying on the sparring room floor, your head somewhere near Seungcheolâs shins, he asked you, âWhere do you wish you were right now? If you werenât here.â
You laughed at yourself before answering, knowing how silly you would sound. âIn a tree.â
A disbelieving smile played on his lips, almost as if he wasnât sure you werenât making fun of him somehow. âA tree?â
âNo, really,â you insisted, still smiling a little. âThereâs not a lot of nature here, in case you didnât notice. I grew up in the Dome - never got to leave, much.â
Seungcheol didnât respond to this, just nodded like he understood, his small smile going a bit tight around the edges.
You frowned, reading him exactly. âYou think Iâm sheltered,â you observed. It wasnât a question. He couldnât say no.
He looked at you, then. âYou were sheltered,â he said, voice low. âBut when I say it, I donât mean naive. I just think⌠thereâs a lot of world out there. A lot of things to see. You wonât see any of it if you spend your entire life under the Dome.â
You nod, accepting this. âI wonât see any of it if it gets destroyed, either. Thereâs a lot of world out there - that weâre trying to keep safe.â
Seungcheol watched you intently for a moment, lips downturned and gaze heavy. Then, he asked, âHave you ever seen a kaiju? I mean - in person?â
âSort of,â you mumbled.
Heâd rolled from his back to his front, closer to you, putting you shoulder to shoulder. âKind of seems like a yes-or-no question.â
Your lips twisted. âThen, no. But Iâve stood in the bay and listened to Mission Control talk my mom and dad through a fight dozens of times, watched Charronâs Revenge on the screens and prayed I wouldnât see her get sawed in half.â
You stopped, trailed a finger through the thin layer of dirt on the floor. âI know itâs not the same as looking one in the face myself,â you whispered. âBut the fear⌠shouldnât that fear count, shouldnât it feel the same?â
Seungcheol swallowed, trailed his own finger through the dirt until his fingertip just barely touched yours. It felt like energy sizzled in the centimeter between your pointer and his.
âWhen Menaceclaw attacked,â he said, âhe missed my home by one block. We watched him go by from the sidewalk. I wasnât even as tall as his foot. But even with him towering over the buildings, taking them down without even trying, I donât think what I felt was afraid. I think I just felt resigned. Like I knew, at seven, that even though we survived this one⌠nothing was going to be⌠the same, or okay. I donât know.â
âYou knew what you lost,â you said quietly. âPart of you did.â
He looked up at you, nudged his finger into yours. âYou never knew anything different. It wasnât a loss. The fear was just always part of the deal.â
You rolled sideways, laying your head on your bicep for a pillow, regarding the dark-eyed, dark-haired young man across from you. His face scrunched in a laugh, brows furrowing and lips pouting.
âWhat?â he asked through the quiet laugh. âWhy are you looking at me?â
âWhat else?â you mused. âWhat else am I going to find when we go tiptoeing through your memories?â
He smiled faintly and then mirrored you, laying his head on his arm, his eyes swimming as he thought.
âA lot of my family, probably,â he said. âA lot of fighting. Menaceclaw. Probably some very mid sex.â
You laughed without meaning to. âMy condolences?â
He grinned at you, pleased. âEh, what can you do? I try to treat everything like a learning experience.â
You laughed again, and his smile grew, gums showing. âWhat about you?â he asked off-handedly.
âMid sex?â you asked, eyebrows raising. âI hate to inform you, Choi Seungcheol, but I donât do anything mid.â
âNo,â he protested, laughing, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. âI meant - what will we see when itâs your turn?â
âThe Dome,â you said, half-joking - but it was true. âTraining. My parents. Their fights, their accomplishments.â
And, as a true drift partner should, he understood what you werenât saying.
âWeâll have our turn,â he promised, pushing himself to sit up, then stand, reaching down to help you up. âWeâre gonna be fucking unstoppable. Letâs go again.â
Fire sparking behind your ribs, you nodded seriously, then reached up to take his hand.
â
Weeks of sparring melded into months of meditation and talking. The next phase of training co-pilots was learning to drift in one of the simulators - but not in a jaeger. Not yet.
You and Seungcheol finished training in one of the sparring rooms shortly before dinner would be served in the mess hall.
âMeet you there?â you asked, still half-breathless, your body starting to ache as the adrenaline from a fight melted away.
âSure,â he agreed, and you disappeared into the changing rooms, scrubbing the sweat and dirt away as quickly as you could. You changed into something clean and made your way to the mess hall.
You scanned for familiar faces, frowning when your normal table seemed to be occupied by a team of new recruits that you didnât know.
Seungcheol appeared at your elbow, frowning dramatically. âOur table,â he whined.
âThereâs Chan and Wylie,â you said, nodding to another corner where your friends sat practically on top of each other. Chan and Wylie had never understood personal space, not when it came to one another. They barely noticed when you and Seungcheol plopped onto the benches next to them, but Seungkwan did.
âYouâre bleeding, Cherry,â he said, before inhaling an entire mouthful of rice.
You started to scan your arms - you didnât feel pain anywhere - but Seungcheol found it first, gingerly swiping his thumb along your cheekbone.
âSorry, Cherry,â he murmured. âI shouldâve pulled that punch.â
âNo you shouldnât have,â you grumbled, swatting at his hand and wiping roughly at the spot, your hand coming away with a small smear of red - nothing to be alarmed about. It would stop on its own. âYou pull shots in practice, youâll hesitate in the field.â
âSheâs right,â Chan said from his physical tangle with Wylie. âWhat you practice will show up in your muscle memory. Youâve got to mean it, every time.â
Wylie reached across his arms and took a bite from his plate, then asked, âDid you guys see the new jaeger?â
âI did,â Seungkwan said eagerly. âChaser Supernova, or something like that? Sheâs smaller, but sheâs supposed to be fast.â
âIs that her team at our normal table?â you asked dryly, shooting the rookies a dark look over your shoulder. Seungcheol jostled you playfully, sending you a smile that brought you back.
The bench dipped to your left, and you turned to see Soonyoung - one of Seungkwanâs two co-pilots - settle in.
âTalking about Supernova?â he asked, hands busy opening his drink. âThey seem okay - theyâre a trio, like us.â
âWhere is Seokmin?â Seungkwan asked, scanning the room. âI havenât seen him in like two hours.â
âTalking to Jihoon, I think,â Soonyoung answered absently, focused on his meal. âHe lost another co-pilot today.â
âNot again,â you and Seungcheol both blurted, matching levels of exasperation.
âThat was freaky,â Wylie said, just as Chan told you, âYou two are acting like us, now.â
âWe do not need another Chan-and-Wylie,â Seungkwan said seriously, shaking his head.
Seungcheol sent you a sideways, sheepish grin.
âWe wonât be,â he promised the group, but his eyes were still on you.
â
The simulators were built to be exact replicas of the conn-pod, so that trainees could get used to the feeling of being strapped in, of moving with the gear. But the real purpose was to practice the neural handshake without risking damage - to the jaeger, to the tech bay, to each other.
âDonât be nervous,â you told Seungcheol as the tech team worked around you both like a choreographed dance.
âIâm never nervous,â he said, suddenly cocky.
If you could reach his hand from where you were strapped in, you would have. If you understood anything about Seungcheol - if any part of him mirrored you - it was the way he showcased bravado, the way he used it as his most-familiar mask.
âItâs only practice,â you reminded him. âAnd itâs only me.â
He licked his lips quickly, eyes darting to the side and then back to you. Then, he gave you a small nod.
âNormally,â your chief tech - a beautiful woman with jet-black hair named Nainsi - told you, âright now, you would be ready for the drop. In the simulator, we skip that step because we arenât dropping onto a jaeger. Instead, weâll engage the pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence.â
You and Seungcheol nod in tandem.
âYouâre all good?â Nainsi checks. âThen Iâm going back into the tech bay - youâll hear me through the intercom.â
Alone in the simulator, you met Seungcheolâs gaze and couldnât help the excited grin that spread across your face. Finally, finally you were here. Once you could do this successfully, the next step was to fight in your own jaeger - to drop into Duellona Fury and walk into the sea.
He didnât return your smile, instead giving you a tight nod, expression serious.
Over the intercom, you said clearly, âReady and aligned.â
Nainsi answered, âPrepare for neural handshake.â
You took a deep breath and steeled yourself as the artificial voice of the simulatorâs tech system spoke around you, 3⌠2⌠1⌠neural handshake initiatingâŚ
At first, you thought something went wrong. Everything went red behind your eyelids, and you blinked, instinctively trying to clear it away.
The red faded, and you found yourself in Seungcheolâs childhood home. You didnât know how you knew that - you just knew. It was as familiar to you, inside the drift, as your own. You knew that to your left was a small kitchen with two broken floor tiles; you knew - without having ever seen it - that to your right was a narrow hallway that led to a bathroom and two small bedrooms.
Two small boys played on the carpet; rather, the smaller one played with some toy cars while the other watched the television with rapture. Behind them, at the kitchen table, a woman typed busily on an outdated laptop, bags heavy under her eyes.
Somewhere around you, a voice floated by, telling you, neural handshake strong and holding.
You could see Seungcheol in your periphery - the adult Seungcheol, the Seungcheol of now - as he looked at his mother, his brother, himself.
âItâs not real,â you reminded him gently. âItâs just a memory.â
âI know,â he said back, voice hushed, as if he might scare them away. âItâs just⌠good to see them.â
The house evaporated as gently as morning dew under a mid-morning sun; you stood in a schoolyard. Seungcheol, the small one, had a bloody lip and a mean swing.
You felt a rush of affection for him - him, the child, face contorting with misplaced anger, using strength as a bandage. You wanted to stand in front of him, between him and the anger, him and the other kids, and let him take a breath. You wanted to tell him to step with his punch to get more power. You wanted to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him, youâre going to be fine.
And he knew all of it, because he was in your mind.
Seungcheol - your Seungcheol - walked away from the swarm of children egging on the fight and opened a door. You followed.
Inside was not the school, but a hospital room. Your body jolted forward, distracting and alarming. You heard, faintly, a series of beeps, that robotic voice needling in your ears, saying, calibration failure⌠recalibrating in 3⌠2⌠1âŚ
âItâs only a memory,â you said again, but the warning beeps were coming stronger, louder, more clearly. The hospital room looked opaque, and Seungcheol walked backwards towards you, away from it, herding you both out of the room. The room - a bed, a pulled curtain, a lot of white - flickered, like a glitch, and then vanished, leaving you standing in the simulator.
Neural handshake disengagedâŚ
âSeungcheol!â you yelled, pulling your helmet off and wheeling on him as best you could with most of your body still strapped in. âWhat the hell was that? You pushed me out!â
He was breathing hard, eyes a little wild. âNot that,â he said, a little ragged. âIâll let you in but - not that.â
âYou donât get to choose!â you snapped. Part of you knew this was just growing pains, heâd never drifted before, he was learning. But the rest of you smarted and stung - both from his rejection and from your failure to train, to succeed, to check off this final step before you could get inside your jaeger. âItâs kind of an all-or-nothing thing!â
He let out a billow of air, reaching a hand up to rub at his face. âSorry. Iâll⌠letâs try again.â
You didnât answer, fuming silently instead.
âIâm sorry, Cherry,â he said. âThe stuff with my dadâŚâ
âYou canât cherry-pick what we see and what we donât,â you fired back. His eyes shot to yours and his mouth quirked and you read the joke all over his face. âDonât you laugh, Seungcheol, itâs not funny!â
But you were laughing through the scolding.
âStop,â you whined.
Your anger defused, he looked at you again, taking a bracing breath. âItâs not about you,â he tried to explain. âIâm not keeping you out. Iâm keeping me out.â
âDonât chase the rabbit,â you told him, shaking your head. âSee what it wants you to see and move on. Find the next door. If you stand there and let your hurt - or your, I donât know⌠grief - rise up⌠thatâs when weâre going to have trouble.â
âFind the next door,â he repeated, eyes on the floor. âGot it.â
âYou canât push it away,â you reminded him, âbut you donât have to stay in it, either.â
He nodded, eyes already lighting up, ready to go again.
The second time, you saw him steel himself before opening that same door, watching carefully as he shuffled inside, only looking sideways at the hospital room that materialized around you.
âSeungcheol.â
He turned to look at you, wide-eyed, but you hadnât called him. The voice, weak and hoarse, had come from the other side of the fluttering curtain.
The glitching started almost immediately - the image around you flickering like a bad wall projection. Something rocked beneath your feet, an earthquake only inside your minds.
You opened your mouth, started to tell him, you donât have to stay, to remind him that he could move forward. Instead, you heard yourself say, âIâm here.â
The tremors under your feet quivered to a stop. You watched with trepidation and Seungcheol closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Then, he held his hand out, waiting.
You slipped your hand into his, and then he turned and continued walking, ignoring his fatherâs memory calling out to him. The flickering stopped, the picture you were part of brightening again as you found the next door, stepped through, left his pain behind.
â
It got easier quickly. Seungcheolâs ability to press on, to maintain focus, strengthened.
The strolls through your mind went easier - youâd had years to practice maintaining focus, waiting until after to let the emotions hit you.
Seungcheol learned to be ready for you, after. Heâd sit with you, silent, and breathe in tandem as you worked to let go, to release the images of Charronâs Revenge on the tech bay screen, the sounds of your parentsâ frantic communication as they fought together, the fear crawling its way up your legs every time until someone in the bay said, âCharronâs Revenge, cleared to return.â The loneliness of being the only kid in the Dome, having no outlet except fighting. Everything that threatened your mind while you piloted, everything that you had to save for later - save for him.
You were both freshly turned twenty when you got green-lit to drive.
âSeungcheol!â you called across the mess hall, practically racing to your table. He turned, eyebrows raised, as you crossed the large room.
âWeâre approved to drop!â you told him excitedly. It churned in you - finally, finally you could fight, you could prove what you could do, you could help. âWeâre on the drop schedule for tomorrow!â
His grin was unfettered, unfiltered, just for you. He reached up a fist and you bumped it enthusiastically. You were too excited to eat, too excited to sleep. You tossed and turned, imagining experiencing a drop for the first time, imagining striding through the mighty sea like it was nothing, imagining staring down hell itself and bringing it to its knees.
You were still awake when you heard the alarms down the hall. Yours didnât go off, because you werenât on duty, werenât approved to fight.
Down the hall, there was a flurry of commotion - shouting, rushing, people pushing past you as they pulled on boots and jackets.
âCat-3 in the west bay,â someone shouted.
âDeploying Devilâs Advocate!â
You reached the tech bay, trying to stay out of the way but not unseen. When the Marshall strode by, you stepped sideways.
âLet us drop,â you said quickly, knowing time was precious. âItâll be like practice. We can be back-up. Weâll hang back.â
âAbsolutely not,â the Marshall said, already moving to work past you. âYouâre not approved yet. We donât need a liability right now.â
âWeâre scheduled for tomorrow!â you protested, and then you felt a hand on your shoulder.
âWeâll get our turn,â Seungcheol told you quietly. Of course heâd come out, of course he found you.
You deflated. âIt could have been us. We are hours from approval.â
He gave your shoulder a tiny shake. âWeâll get our turn,â he repeated. âDonât make trouble.â
You glowered, but you knew he was right. âFine,â you grumbled as Joshua and Jeonghan slinked past you in matching jackets and matching shit-eating grins. You stayed out of the way as they prepared to drop.
You stayed through the fight, listened to the control room buzz and chatter, until you heard, âDevilâs Advocate, cleared to return.â
Only then did you try to go back to sleep. Seungcheol gave your shoulder one more squeeze.
âTomorrow,â he promised.
âTomorrow,â you repeated.
â
Some people feel God at church. The history of tradition and the sanctity of ritual speak to them, help them feel part of something, help them feel that unnameable swell of something spiritual.
Some people feel God in nature. The patterns of the universe, the way math exists without human touch, the harmonies and patterns that seem too intricate for coincidence help them believe in a plannerâs touch. The beauty of the outdoors allows them to wonder, to feel like they belong as a piece of this clockwork.
But you - you felt God when you stood before your jaeger, marveling at the power, the beauty, how it feels like yours, how it feels like Seungcheol before youâre even inside it. Duellona Fury promises you power, promises you purpose.
That hand was on your shoulder again, and it slid down to the center of your back before removing itself.
Beside you, Seungcheol stared up at your glorious machine.
âShe looks sick,â he said, the grin taking over his face.
âI canât wait to fuck shit up,â you murmured, your reverent tone at odds with the flippancy of your words.
âReady?â the Marshall asked you, coming up to your left. âWeâll get you calibrated and dropped, and then youâll do a lap of the bay. Weâre sending out Pretty Savage just in case you run into trouble.â
The defensiveness rose in you quick, like a snakebite.
âWe donât need a babysitter,â Seungcheol said, voice hard. You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze - a reminder to watch it, just as his hand on your shoulder frequently did for you.
âItâs just safety protocol.â The Marshall was unphased by the outburst. âHave fun, you two. Enjoy your first joy-ride.â
You screamed when you dropped, the exhilaration rushing out of you as Duellona Fury fell story after story before slowing and attaching to your jaegerâs mainframe.
Goosebumps raised along your arms when the Shatterdomeâs sea-doors slid open, shudders traveling your body as you and Seungcheol stepped together, Duellona Fury stepping with you, her gigantic, metal form following every movement.
For the first time in your whole, careful life, you felt powerful. Your jaeger cut through the ocean waves like they were nothing, making an easy perimeter of the bay. In your head, you could somehow both hear and feel Seungcheolâs delight, his low-simmering desire to fight, to do something a perfect mirror of your own.
âHow is it?â Soonyoungâs voice crackled in your ears, reminding you that Pretty Savage wasnât far behind you.
âIncredible,â Seungcheol answered him, at the same time that you said, âItâs everything.â
It didnât matter that you came from a family of pilots. It didnât matter that you were raised in the Dome, training since you were young. None of that mattered. You were born for this - born to fight for your planet, born for Duellona Fury, born for Choi Seungcheol.
â
The west bay became Duellonaâs playground; you and Seungcheol were often assigned to patrol there.
It was only a few months in that you faced a kaiju for the first time.
âCome in, Duellona Fury,â Nainsiâs voice came through. âWe have a reading just a few miles north of you. Cat-2. Approaching at -â
Duellona Fury was turning due north before the command was even given.
âAre you ready for this?â you shouted to Seungcheol as Duellona slid through the water, the adrenaline singing in your system already.
âYou know I am,â he answered, something hard in it, and the thrill in your stomach sparked.
When the sea split in half, the kaiju rising from the depths with an unearthly roar, you sank into a defensive stance, feeling Seungcheol move beside you, doing the same.
âLetâs fucking go,â Seungcheol said darkly, and launched forward, your arms rearing back for momentum before the first swing. The punch landed solidly, your whole body shaking once as the kaiju faltered backwards a few steps.
It opened its mouth and you glimpsed three rows of teeth bigger than a cow before it was lunging at you; Duellona Fury lurched. You tried to duck sideways as Seungcheol tried to move towards your opponent.
The moment of indecision cost you - the kaiju got its teeth on Duellonaâs shoulder, knocking you back several steps. Beside you, Seungcheol roared as sparks flew near the bite.
âAre we breached?â you yelled, trying to steady your balance again.
âNot yet!â he yelled back, and you swung again, a hit landing hard enough to knock the kaiju loose, spitting it back into the sea.
You tried to move into a defensive crouch again; again, the jaeger faltered.
âCherry!â Seungcheol yelled, desperation laced in his voice. âCherry, donât fight me!â
âMove with me!â you answered, and he did, miraculously, Duellona dodging left before an incoming attack.
Donât fight me.
You rocked forward with Seungcheol as soon as you were clear of the kaijuâs trajectory, just as youâd done in practice thousands of times. Back in sync, Duellona Fury landed a kick to the kaijuâs middle that sent it stumbling.
âWeâve got him,â you said, feeling a win.
âDonât get ahead of yourself,â Seungcheol warned you. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the kaiju exploded from the dark ocean, limbs flailing as it flew towards you.
Duellonaâs arms came up and locked it in battle, the impact shaking you so hard that your teeth chattered against each other. You groaned with exertion as you tried to match its strength.
âI donât think we can hold it,â you managed through grit teeth.
âWeâve got this,â your partner promised, and with a mighty shove, you managed to flip the beast over your shoulder and beneath the waves.
âDrop the bombs and head for the east side,â you said quickly, already moving. Duellona Fury followed your command, turning and starting an easy run through the bayâs churning waters, away from where the kaiju was struggling to its feet, furious and vengeful. As she ran, she dropped three small explosives, about sixty feet apart. The explosives slipped into the ocean depths.
âReady?â Seungcheol asked, a little breathless. âAre we far enough away?â
âLight him up,â you replied. Seungcheol reached up and tapped the button; somewhere behind you, the ocean exploded.
â
âHowâs your shoulder?â you asked, later, in the med bay.
âNot that bad,â Seungcheol said, but you could see the blood-stains on the bandaging.
âIt wonât happen again,â you promised. âI think I just⌠practiced alone for so long. I forgot to listen. Iâm sorry.â
Seungcheol shook his hand, eyes finding yours. âThereâs nothing to forgive, Cherry. Forget about it.â Then, he brightened. âYou know what I want to do?â
âWhat?â you asked, not entirely past feeling guilty.
His smile was devilish. âI want to go celebrate our first fucking kill.â
âÂ
You marked the passing of two years in statistics.
Three hundred and forty-six explosives detonated.
Two hundred and eighty-three drops. Two hundred and eight-three kills.Â
Seventy-two mainframe repairs.
Twenty-eight achievement awards.
Nine television interviews.
Six upgrades.
One ill-informed âvacationâ during which you both itched with anxiety, spending the whole time messaging your friends back in the Shatterdome desperately, praying you wouldnât miss a fight in which you were needed.
Seven hundred and thirty days of living in and around Seungcheolâs mind and heart. But that stat shouldâve gone first.
It was a good high. Your team had a good run.
It wasnât a kaiju that reduced it to ash, not an attack that took your team out of the rotation of main fighters and sent your jaeger to gather rust and dust below the Dome. It was your own stupid heart.
There were a lot of moments that could have been it. Each time you walked into a fight knowing the danger, each time he ended up in the med bay reeking of antibacterial ointment and resentment. Each time you slid into your place beside him - space he saved only for you. Each time his voice bidding you goodnight from the bottom bunk was the last thing you heard at the end of the day. Any of these moments might have been the one to make you stop, gasp, suddenly slammed with understanding. That you loved him, that he was everything you couldnât bear to be without, that he was part of you. But they werenât.
There was no moment of realization at all.
Instead, it slowly seeped into your consciousness, as gently and naturally as morning dew collecting on pre-dawn petals. The knowledge clung to you, as impossible to ignore as damp feet after running barefoot through the yard just after sunrise.
If you knew something, that meant your co-pilot would know it, too.
Unless you tucked it away, pushed it down deep and cast his attention elsewhere, a mental sleight-of-hand. Look here instead.Â
You were twenty-three, on a routine patrol, when Mission Control radioed Duellona that there was a reading in the bay.
âLooks like itâs only a Cat-1,â Mission Control told you.
âOn it,â you told them, feeling your body already mirroring Seungcheolâs as Duellona picked up her pace, striding through the waves.Â
You glanced sideways at him, and immediately wished you hadnât. He was already zoned in, eyes focused and jaw sharp as he concentrated.Â
He caught your gaze for only a second. âFocus, Cherry,â he cautioned. âDonât get cocky.â
âI would never,â you retorted, and he laughed. You were both cocky; you both knew it.
For a second, things felt better.Â
The fight was almost easy, when the ocean seemed to split in two and the waves fell away like wrapping paper to reveal the kaiju youâd been sent for.Â
You swung and ducked, dropping explosives strategically, Seungcheol moving in unison with you. There was something graceful about it - something beautiful in the sync, something holy in the way your muscles mimicked each otherâs.Â
This is what happens when sunlight hits morning dew: it warms, lifts, makes the air humid and sticky until it burns away.Â
It rose up in you, your love for him, infusing the air around you, infusing the neural handshake that he was deeply imbedded in.
No.Â
You panicked, tried to do several things at once - tried to shove the feeling down, tried to think of something else, tried to push Seungcheolâs consciousness out of yours.
Duellona Fury lurched around you, shuddering.Â
âCherry!â Seungcheol screamed to your left, and then the kaiju hit, its full weight slamming into Duellonaâs mainframe.
You both staggered, trying to right yourselves, as the machines around you blinked and beeped and rebooted.Â
Seungcheol grunted under the neural weight of driving alone as you gasped and closed your eyes, trying desperately to fix it. Around you, you heard the floating words - recalibrating.
âRecalibrate faster!â you shouted, glancing sideways to see your co-pilot struggling to hold the monster in place, his face contorting with effort, arms straining against the machinery. He bared his gritted teeth, exhaling in a hiss between them.Â
You gave yourself a shake, bouncing on the balls of your feet, desperate for the connection to take again so you could pick up your half, take the literal weight from him. As soon as you felt the neural handshake, you gave a mighty shove and Duellona flipped the monster backwards, the ocean receding and then coming back to slam her shins, swallowing the monster whole.
You both sank into a defensive stance, ready for the beast to rise again.
âWhat was that?â Seungcheol demanded, later, as he sat in the med bay, waiting for his nosebleed to stop. The nosebleed youâd caused by letting him carry a neural load meant for two.
âI donât know,â you lied, still panicked and desperate.Â
âBullshit,â Seungcheol countered, eyes narrowed. He reached up and pulled the cotton away from his face, examining it. âIâm fine now,â he announced, and tossed the wad into a nearby trash bin, standing.
You fought the urge to cower, knowing heâd never let it go if you did. You followed him silently out of the med bay and back towards your dormitories. Halfway there, he slowed, then stopped.
Then, more calmly this time, he asked, âWhat happened, Cherry? You pushed me out.â
There was a slight pout to it, a sliver of hurt, and it sliced through you like something tangible, like you were actually wounded from it, like it might actually bleed.
âI donât know,â you repeated. Guilt poked at you until you relented, gave him something that was at least partly true. âI got scared.âÂ
âThat canât happen, and you know it,â he said seriously, his large frame casting a long shadow to your left as he leaned into your space. âYou canât keep secrets - thatâs piloting 101. Weâve got to handle it. You know whatâs at stake here.â
You did; you did, and that was entirely the problem. It wasnât just feelings, it wasnât just your relationship with Seungcheol at stake. It was your relationship with your co-pilot - your ability to fight was at stake, your ability to keep others safe. Your legacy.
Your parentsâ wall of pictures flashed in your mind.
âIâm going to my mom and dadâs for a while,â you said quietly.Â
He nodded, let you run away - trusted you to come back to him when you were ready, trusted you to let him in.
You werenât sure if he was right or wrong, as you walked away and left him behind.
You didnât go to your parentsâ, though. Instead, you went to the tech bay and sat, watching Duellona undergo simple repairs from her fight. You stayed there, the metal cold beneath your thighs, watching the tech team buff over a scratch on your jaegerâs torso, until someone dropped into the spot next to you, bumping their shoulder roughly into yours.
âWhereâs Seungcheol?â Wylie, who co-piloted Fury Striker with Chan, was your closest friend in the Dome besides Seungcheol.Â
âHeâs pissed at me,â you answered, looking sideways, because the question had really meant, why isnât Seungcheol with you?Â
You werenât sure sheâd understand what you were going through - she and Chan had been obsessed with each other since they were kids. Neither of them had ever had to fear that their love for each other would mess anything up. It had been part of their deal from the start.
âWhatâd you do?â Wylie demanded, turning her full, unfettered attention on you. You wanted to shrink from the intensity of it - but that was always how Wylie worked: full wattage, all the time.
âAlmost got us killed by a fucking Cat-1 tonight,â you muttered, angry at yourself, angry at your heart.
Wylie smacked your arm hard enough to send you sideways. âCherry!â she scolded.Â
âThere was something I didnât want him to see.â You said it in your head first, weighed the words, then forced them through your teeth. You hoped sheâd just know what it was, hoped you wouldnât have to force those words past muscle and bone, too.
Wylieâs face dropped into irritation. âCherry,â she repeated, disappointment dripping from the two syllables.
You looked up at Duellona Fury again.Â
âYou canât do that,â she told you, giving your ankle a little kick for emphasis. âYou know you canât do that.â
You canât love him? Or, you canât keep secrets from him?
You didnât ask. You didnât want to know the answer.
Seungcheol was waiting up for you when you finally returned to the dorm. You opened the door to find the first room - an entryway and kitchen, both - dimly lit. Beyond it, in the small sitting space, Seungcheol sat facing the door, his chin in his hand.
You knew the look on his face. You knew it so well that you almost ran from it, almost turned right around and went back out to the hallway.
Brows slightly furrowed, mouth a straight line, jaw tight. Eyes focused, locked in. It was the face he made in training before he bodied someone. It was the face he made in the field before an offensive strike. It meant he had his sights on a target, a problem, and he was about to throw everything he had at it.
And right now, you were the problem.
âHey?â you tried meekly.
He nodded. Licked his lips. Stood.Â
Heâs pissed at me, youâd told Wylie. The energy radiating from your co-pilot was much more complex than that, the air around you palpably tense and teetering.
âHow was it at your parentsâ?â he asked, voice low.Â
You took one tentative step closer. âI didnât go,â you admitted. One lie between you was already more than you wanted. âI watched them patch up Duellona instead. Talked to Wylie a little.â
He nodded, eyes still on you. Nervousness coursed through you, but it would be a lie - another one - to say it wasnât laced with a little excitement. He was stunning, always, but like this - it almost took your breath away.
If he was in your mind right now, thereâd be no question. Heâd know all of it. The attraction, the desire, the fear, the affection, the love, the need. All of it.Â
His eyes caught on a bruise peeking out from the short sleeve of your top. âYou shouldâve had them look at that,â he said, reaching out like he wanted to run his fingers over the dark splotch, but he was just too far away, fingertips closing around the air just an inch or two away.Â
You shook your head. âYou needed attention first. You carried the neural load alone.â Because of me.
âOnly for a minute.â
âA minute too long. Iâm⌠Iâm sorry. I didnât mean to.â
It hung between you. You donât know if youâd inched forward or he had, or both, but you were close enough to touch now when you hadnât been just seconds ago.
He lifted his eyes, his gaze locking on yours. In the dim room, his eyes shone black. âYou pushed me out.â
It was an accusation, but it was also a question.
âIâm sorry,â you repeated, barely able to say it, your voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. âSeungcheol, I was scared.â
Maybe he was in your head. Maybe he did know all of it.
âDonât be,â he told you. âDonât be scared.â
His arms were around you though you didnât see him move. It wasnât the first time youâd let him embrace you - after a fight, in relief, or in victorious delight, or sometimes just in sleepy affection at the end of a long day. It was far from the first time that youâd found comfort in the space between his arms, strong and capable around your frame, your forehead pressed against his sternum as his heart beat directly into your bones.Â
But it was the first time that his fingers, confident and sure, tipped under your chin, guiding you to look up at him, guiding your mouth to meet his.
You donât know if you melted or exploded - it was somehow both at once. You gripped his back, feeling the muscles move beneath his t-shirt, relaxing into his hold and focusing on the feel of his full lips firm and hungry against your own. This was everything - everything youâd wanted, everything you were afraid of, everything you needed, everything that could rip your life apart.
You didnât mean to whine, but it slipped up your throat and into the gasped space between your lips and his as you tried to pull in a desperate breath. He responded with a grunt, walking you backwards until the edge of the kitchen counter jutted into your lower back. His hands traveled, up to the back of your neck, back down to the slight curve of your waist, around to the back of your ass. He tugged your hips against his roughly, and you let your head fall back, panting, head spinning.
âCherry,â he breathed against the newly bared stretch of your neck, his lips close enough to drag against your skin as he spoke.
Your hands found the back of his neck, gave the slightest tug upwards, and he followed, bringing his mouth back to yours. His tongue pressed yours briefly, your moan muffled entirely by his mouth as you tried to press him closer, closer, as if you wanted your rib-cages to meld, to slip together like fitting puzzle pieces.Â
His hand slipped lower from your ass and wrapped around your thighs, taking only a second to lift you onto the counter behind you. You wrapped yourself around him immediately, pulling him into the space between your legs, arms around his neck, pulling him in, wanting to feel every bit of him against you.Â
His hands found the hem of your shirt and lifted; you raised your arms in compliance and felt the cotton slip over your head and your hands.
âYours,â you murmured, but he had already reached back between his shoulder blades, his own top joining yours on the floor.
Your hands found him on their own, sliding over his skin, fingers dipping between muscles, thumbs sweeping over shadows.
You kissed until you turned liquid, molten, your fingers wrapped in his hair. His fingers mapped every inch of your skin, as if his job was to report back on every previously unknown dip, every rough circle, every beauty mark or blemish. His fingers traced them all, his hands passing over you reverently.
The brush of his bare chest against your own was torturous; delicious until you were full, until you couldnât take it anymore, until the electric-sharp thrill became uncomfortable. You tilted backwards, creating more space between your torsos but pushing your hips firmly into his.
You both groaned at the contact. You could feel the heat and weight of him now, and everything instinctual within you urged you to shift further, to bring that heat and heaviness closer to the part of you that ached for it.Â
He pressed his hips into you without reservation, your core clenching in response to the movement and the friction.Â
Then he leaned back, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, his arms bracketing you on either side, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his breathing. He drank you in, his eyes as molten as you felt. You leaned back on your elbows and met his gaze.
The moment expanded; nothing existed but his eyes and the pant of his breath and the way he smelled like heâd just finished a fight and the way he felt between your thighs, unmovable and steady.
Neither of you was connected to jaeger machinery, but you may as well have been, because you knew without a shadow of a doubt that your minds were connected, the drift be damned. Your eyes locked, you knew he felt everything you felt - the gravity of what you were doing, the love that drove you, the fire coursing through you. If there was going to be hesitation or questioning, this was the moment, this was the pause. But you were one, your minds were one, and there was none of that.Â
His unvoiced question definitively answered by the certainty that flowed between you, Seungcheol moved to lift you again, taking you easily from the countertop into the dark of the room you share, settling you on your back on his bottom bunk.
Above you, mostly shadowed, was your other half, the only person who knew and understood every cobwebbed corner of your consciousness, the only person who had walked through your mind and found himself mirrored in every way that mattered. He was beautiful in the fractured light, his expression serious and gaze intense.Â
You reached up to slide your thumb along his jaw and his eyes fluttered closed, his breath leaving him as in relief, as if youâd made some kind of admission.Â
Making love to Seungcheol felt like drifting. His eyes on you as his fingers pulled you apart felt the same as the careful way heâd watch you when your memories got emotional, like he was watching for any sign that you werenât okay, that you needed more or less or him.Â
The way his breath and shoulders shuddered when he pressed into you for the first time felt the same as when he faltered in face of his fatherâs memory; both times, his fingers laced through yours and held tight until you could both breathe again.
He felt how youâd always known he would. Perfect - a perfect fit for you, a physical compatibility you had never tested but had always trusted would be there. He took you apart without even trying, and all you could do was hold onto him, feel all of him, feel all of it, and try to remember to breathe.
You didnât speak as you moved together in the dark; the only sounds in the tight room were muted gasps, tiny moans muffled against necks, skin on skin, the obscene squelching sounds that accompanied each snap of his hips. You didnât say the words that your lips tried to form - itâs so much, go slow for a little, Seungcheol, I love you, more - please, donât stop. Maybe he heard them. Maybe this was a different way to drift, one that didnât need wires.
You did your best to hold his gaze, losing sight of him only when you strained up to kiss him, when you nuzzled your face into the warmth between his neck and shoulder and gasped against a wave of sensation, when you couldnât help but close them as they rolled back, your toes curling.Â
He pressed his forehead to yours when he finished, your name slipping out of him, as if it had been literally squeezed from his lungs. âCherry⌠CherryâŚâ
You lay together in silence for a long time, feeling your hearts slow, your skin cool. Your thumb traced his jaw again and again, slow, worshipful. âCheol,â you whispered. My Cheol. My everything. You didnât say the rest as you lay together in the quiet, in the dark, your heartbeats competing.Â
You didnât know that youâd drifted together for the last time. You didnât know that your ability to neural connect could be broken.
â
The wind whips around you, stinging your face. You barely flinch. When youâd first relocated here, three years ago, the cold had made you literally cry during your first month. Just from having to walk from the door of the dormitory across the yard to the mess hall dorm, the intensity of it had sent you spiraling into misery - damning the circumstances that had sent you here, away from everyone and everything you knew and loved, to a place where the air hurt.Â
You were sure it would hurt, this intensely, forever.
But time eased the sting, and despite your doubts you did adjust. Now the early morning wind feels bracing and refreshing rather than painful. Youâve adjusted to a lot of things since relocating to a small training center in Alakanuk, Alaska: the climate, the food, the no-frills campus you lived and worked on. Being away from your parents, from Wylie and Chan and Seungkwan and Jeonghan and all the other pilots you were friends with at the Shatterdome.
Being away from Seungcheol. Being partnerless, a half instead of a whole.Â
Being unable to pilot, unable to fight.Â
Being brokenhearted.
Just like the cold, the pain of your losses was the same - the sting of heartbreak and loneliness and homesickness faded to something ignorable, something you could keep tucked tight in the back of your mind.Â
You can hear the noise from inside the mess hall before you even cross the courtyard. There are short of fifty girls ranging from ages seven to eighteen being housed here, but from the noise youâd swear it was at least a hundred.Â
The buildings are single-storied, painted with a heavily-chipping grey-blue that sometimes seems to belong to the mist you often get rolling in from the ocean. When youâd first come, youâd legitimately thought they were painted that way as camouflage, meant to blend in with the sea. The other trainers had a good laugh about that.Â
As you cross the courtyard between the trainersâ dorms and the mess hall, you breathe deeply, eyes on the birds alight above you. After a lifetime in the Shatterdome, you donât take for granted the fresh air youâre afforded as you pass between buildings, outside, the sky open and changing above. You donât take for granted the rhythm of the ocean, the cries of the gulls, nor the distant treeline.
It was Seungcheol who had noted that you were sheltered, having never lived outside of the Dome.Â
It was Seungcheol you could blame - at least halfway - for your relocation here, where there wasnât a jaeger or even a city for hundreds of miles.Â
When you pull open the flimsy door to the mess hall, the noise triples. Several of the girls call out to greet you, and you give them a quick wave as you head to the table where the staff eats.
âYouâre later than normal,â one of the other instructors notes as you reach for a piece of bread.
You shrug lightly, unbothered. âStill have plenty of time before the first class. What day is today, Thursday? Iâve got the little ones first, right?â
The all-girls training center is meant to teach fighting and the groundworks for drifting, but no jaegers are housed here, no teams launch into the icy bay. The girls here will grow up to pilot - if they get selected, if they get paired with a partner.Â
Youâre mostly here to teach them to fight, the way you trained in the Dome, but you do plenty more. Help brush hair in the mornings, console tearful faces, teach games and sports, mediate arguments. You also got sucked into running one literacy class a week, though you still havenât figured out how that happened.Â
It would be a lie to say this wasnât fulfilling, that you didnât love the girls you cared for, that you werenât happy here with the ocean and birds and trees and laughter. In many ways, the seclusion of this training center is exactly what you needed to get back on your feet, to find strength in yourself, to heal with distance and time.
But, god, what you would give for a real fight. What you would give to feel both loved and threatened by Wylie, to rib at the guys, to hug your mom. What you would give to hear Seungcheolâs teasing pout, to catch his gaze across the span of your jaeger and know what his body and yours will do, to feel his fingers just barely graze your back when he knows you need to be reminded to focus.
The final time youâd tried, the neural connection never took. It was like trying to connect with a stranger. It had simply been still, a thing that was never alive.
âDonât do this,â Seungcheol had begged, and that had been the nail in the coffin.
Donât do this, heâd said. It had landed like blame. Like everything was your fault, and only yours. Like you had broken the connection on purpose, were keeping him out, barricading your mind from his when you desperately wanted everything to go right back to normal.
After that failure, you didnât tell him you were asking to be reassigned. You didnât want to give him the chance to say donât do this a second time.
Youâve just ended a class, the girls starting to filter out through the training roomâs side door towards the mess hall for lunch, when the centerâs Administrator calls your name from the door.
âThereâs a call for you on my line. I have them holding.â
A call?Â
Adrenaline races through you; it has to be an emergency. Your parents and friends can reach you on your own device, which is tucked into your back pocket. To call the mainline here at the center means this is a base-to-base call, not a personal one.
Youâve only been in this office a handful of times in your few years here, and you shuffle awkwardly around the desk and pick up the receiver that sits abandoned on the chipped, wooden desktop.Â
You greet the person on the line with your real name.Â
âCherry?â
Your Marshall - your old Marshall, from the Dome - sounds unsure if he has the right person on the line. No one has called you Cherry in three years. Even your parents have used your given name the few times theyâve said it on your weekly calls home.
âItâs me,â you affirm. âIs everything okay? My parents?â
âI didnât mean to scare you,â he says, and you heave a relieved breath. âEveryone is fine. This is official business. I want to call you in.â
You shake your head, frowning, well aware that he canât see your reaction. Your body has said no, but you force yourself to ask, âMe? Why?â
âWeâre down a few teams,â the Marshall says. âAnd -â
âYouâve got more recruits than places to put them,â you counter before he can finish. âCall one of the new teams up. Call three new teams up. You donât need me.â
âWe do - we need teams with experience, teams that are ready. Not rookies bumbling around looking for mistakes. We need precision. We need Duellona Fury.â
Your Marshall lays out the situation: the teams that are out, the problems theyâre having at the breach - less time between attacks, more monsters at once. Youâve seen this before, you all have, and thereâs protocol in place - protocol that starts with all hands on deck.Â
You shake your head again. From the door, the Administrator of the center watches you seriously, like she knows youâre being taken away.Â
âMarshall, with all due respect, I donât know why youâre calling me,â you admit. âWhat can I give you? I canât pilot Duellona.â
Not anymore.Â
The Marshall sighs, like he knew this argument was coming and didnât have a good response.Â
âI think you can,â he says finally. âIâm not saying it will be easy, and Iâm not saying it will happen quickly or without effort. But I think you can.â
âNo,â you say, the first time youâve voiced it. âYou were there. You saw what happened. We canât drift anymore.â
âYou couldnât then,â he points out. âThat was three years ago. Youâve both had a lot of time toâŚ. Youâve both had a lot of time since then. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift⌠theyâve had time to mellow.â
This blow knocks you into silence. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes steadfastly on the warped wood of the desk, fingers toying absently with the Administratorâs pen.Â
Heâs wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing had mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did three years ago. The splitting ache in your chest that youâve felt every day since you became aware of loving him has only worked its way deeper with time.Â
And Seungcheolâs anger? The anger and betrayal heâd leveled at you, when he was sure you were keeping him out of your head on purpose? You couldnât speak for him, but if you had to guess, there werenât enough years in a human life to let that hurt mellow into something safe enough to drift with.
âHave you talked to him about this?â Youâre afraid of the answer.Â
The Marshall hesitates. âNot yet.â
âYou might want to do that first,â you point out. âBefore flying me back only to have him refuse.âÂ
The Marshallâs voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. âMr. Choi will follow orders,â he says evenly, âand so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.â
âYou canât order us into being able to drift again,â you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest.Â
âNo,â the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, âbut I can - and will - order you to try.â
The girls cry when you tell them youâre leaving, and it makes you want to cry, too. You hold it together as you give them hugs, hold it together as you pack your single bag of belongings. You hold it together in the passenger seat of the centerâs only beat-up van, waving out the back window as the training center fades away.
Itâs standing on the deck of the ferry, the coast receding and the sea wind clawing at your face, that you let it go. You bury your face behind your hands and feel it release behind your ribs. You cry for all of it - for leaving the girls behind, for leaving a place that had sheltered you like a sanctuary. For the time youâd lost at the Dome, for the fights youâd sat out, for the years with your parents and friends that had slipped away like sand between your fingers. For your fear that Seungcheol will turn you away, just as hurt and angry as he was one thousand and ninety-five days ago.Â
Youâd been so determined to keep him from walking through the depths of your love for him, in the drift. You were so scared it would be too much, too intense, too much emotion for the drift. Youâd been scared it would be too much for him - that the weight of it would inherently ask for more than he could give you in return. Youâd been scared it would ruin your partnership, your compatibility, your capability to co-pilot.
But that had happened anyway. You almost have to laugh.Â
As furiously as your tears begin, they peter out quickly. You take a few deep gulps of salty air, use the backs of your hands to wipe at your cheeks and beneath your nose. As you calm down, you keep your eyes on the horizon, your hands tight on the shipâs railing, and you let your mind wander back to Seungcheol. Here, thousands of miles away, you let yourself think back to those last weeks before you left the Shatterdome. You let yourself wonder, for the first time, what exactly caused everything to crumble.
Youâd been so afraid to let Seungcheol into your head once the loving him had taken over. Why had it scared you so badly? As you keep your eyes on the grey of the horizon, you puzzle it out in your mind.
Had it been the uncertainty? That had certainly played a part. Did Seungcheol love you, back then? If he didnât, everything between you could have changed - your friendship, your partnership, your ability to drift. It hadnât seemed worth the risk to lose it all - his presence in your life, your ability to fight together.Â
But maybe he had. If he did love you, back then⌠that would have changed things, too. What if starting something romantic affected your drift? There were too many maybes, too many variables. It had seemed safe to push it all down, to try and keep him away from it. To try and keep things the same.
Of course, youâd lost it all anyway.
Even if he did love you three years ago, you think as the sea air whips around you, did he love you the way you loved him? What if it had been too much - the way you could breathe once he was with you, the way you kept each other in check - what if he had loved you, but not that much?
Had it been a mistake to keep him out? Maybe. But it could have been just as catastrophic to let him in. There was no way to know, now.
You turn away from the shipâs railing, away from the horizon and the sea, away from your mistakes. Thereâs no use looking back like this. You canât change it. You arenât even sure you can fix it.
You were hoping to sleep on the plane, but youâre woefully awake well after take-off. Determined not to keep ruminating on what had happened before you left, instead you wonder what awaits you now.
The most-likely scenario, you think, professional and polite - but cold. Like you, he takes duty and responsibility seriously. The airplane bumps, a pocket of air jostling the small craft, and your hands find the armrests and cling tight until it stops.
The best case scenario, of course, would be that enough time has passed that Seungcheolâs hurt has faded. Maybe, you think, maybe heâs moved on from harboring that anger. Maybe heâll greet you warmly, maybe youâll pick up right where you left off.
This hope, this day-dream, aches, so much that you blink it away and turn to watch the clouds through the window, a desperate distraction. You crave Seungcheol - you crave feeling safe with his arms around you, you crave the elation youâd feel when he entered the room you were in, you crave the peace that comes with two minds engaged in neural handshake - the peace of someoneâs mind interlaced with your own, understanding you, operating with you, picking up half of your mental lift.
You crave his giggle when you say something stupid in the dark of the dorm before bed, his pout when he feels like he isnât getting enough attention, you crave his voice echoing in your head long after heâs gone asleep because you heard him talk to you all day long.Â
You crave his lips on yours, his teeth on your neck, his hands on your body, even if you only had it once. Youâve craved it ever since.
You crave closing your eyes and pressing your forehead to his sternum, feeling safe and quiet and like you belong. You miss the sanctuary of that space, chest to chest with him, something sacred in the way it exists only for you.
You know you canât have it - any of it. The daydream isnât real. Your curse will be to crave it forever, alone.
When you arrive at the Shatterdome, itâs your parents who greet you just inside. For a moment, youâre happy to be back, overcome with emotion as you hug them tight. Theyâve aged in these three years. Youâve missed them awfully. You only tell them the latter.Â
They walk with you to the Marshallâs office, where youâre meant to report upon arrival.Â
You hesitate, covering the moment by tugging your duffleâs strap higher on your shoulder. Your mother reads you anyway, reaching out and giving your shoulder a squeeze.Â
âIt will be okay,â she whispers.Â
Your father catches on. âYouâve faced down worse,â he reasons.Â
You disagree. Thereâs no monster in the sea bigger than your love for Seungcheol, no wounding possible that could hurt more than losing him has. But you appreciate the sentiment, so you give them each a grateful nod, tell them youâll visit after dinner, and turn to knock on the door.
âCome in,â the Marshallâs voice carries through the door, and you turn the knob and step inside.Â
All you see is Seungcheol; the Marshall, the office furniture, the flickering screens on the walls all snap into nonexistence in the presence of your former lover. Heâs the only thing in the room that comes into focus. Everything else is just fuzzy noise.
His face wavers for a moment when your eyes meet his, the muscles rippling as he fights to get them under control.Â
You donât know what reaction heâs fighting. You donât know if heâs feeling happiness or hatred. You donât know if heâs fighting a smile or a scowl.
You give him a quick bow in greeting, and he returns it. His face is stone, now, his mouth tight and eyes flat.Â
He turns to face the Marshall, to receive orders, so you do the same.
âI trust your travel went well?â the Marshall begins.
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Even the single syllable of yes will come out of your mouth like gravel and dirt and sand, getting everywhere, leaving a trail.
âYour orders,â he says then, a bit of a sigh on his tone - as if he knows the uphill battle this will be, âare to reconnect as best you can. Youâll follow your old schedule. Youâll spar, youâll meditate, and youâll talk. After some time, weâll try the drift again, see if the connection has recovered any.â
Seungcheolâs voice startles you when he speaks. âHow long do you imagine it will be before we try?â he asks, just cold enough to have a sliver of sarcasm in it.Â
The Marshallâs eyes narrow, just slightly, as if heâd caught it. âThatâs entirely up to you two,â he says evenly. âWhen you were young and hungry to fight, you trained yourselves into exhaustion. You spent every waking second trying to cultivate the bond that would carry you into your jaeger. With the same intention and drive, I imagine you could be piloting Duellona within the week.â
You fight to keep your chin up, your eyes on the Marshall, instead of ducking your head and watching the floor. The Marshall lifts his arm and glances at his watch.Â
âYour allotted time in Sparring Room 7 begins on the hour,â he says. This is his way of dismissing you.
In the hallway, you pause. âIâm just going to drop my bag in the dorm,â you say quietly, not looking at Seungcheol.Â
He gives a tight nod. âFine,â he says, and turns to go the other way, towards the sparring and training rooms. Clearly he intends to meet you there. You heave a deep breath, and turn back towards the wing with the dorms.
Stepping into the dorm you used to share with Seungcheol hits you harder than you thought it would. Youâre not sure what you expected - to feel like coming home, maybe, or perhaps to be slapped with the memories of you and Seungcheol together, dancing around each other as you hurried to get dressed for a drop, lazing around in the sitting area after a full day of training. And, of course, the single night youâd spent together.
Neither thing happens. You arenât overcome by a feeling of nostalgia and love, nor are you inundated by memories of what youâve lost. Instead, the room feels exactly as it is: empty and still.
Your footstepsâ echoes taunt you as you walk through the kitchen, the sitting area, and into the bedroom. Itâs pristine to the point of detriment; it feels like no one lives there. You set your bag on the floor near the foot of the bed - you can unpack later, after training - and turn to go.
Strangely, itâs stepping into the training room that slams you with memory and nostalgia. The wood cool beneath your feet, the vague smell of sweat and citrus-y cleaner, the sounds of punches landing and grunts of effort from the training rooms on either side - they all cocoon you in history, making goosebumps rise on your arms as the emotions surround you.
It makes sense, you think, as Seungcheol glances over his shoulder at the sound of your arrival. He doesnât speak to you, just swaggers to the center of the room and takes a stance you recognize from Form One. Your body leads you opposite him, muscle memory guiding you into the first form you ever learned with him. It makes sense that this would be what felt like home - your minds going empty together, your bodies following the steps in unison. The sparring forms are the closest you can get to drifting without an actual neural connection.
Well, that and sleeping together, but you donât see that on your agenda.
You stare at him across the invisible circle between you and try to read him. His face is cold and empty, but that already tells you so much about what heâs feeling. Seungcheol was never cold with you. When you fought together he slipped into that mode you loved so much - ready to level anything, chin lifted, eyes narrowed, confident and so very strong. But it was when you were together outside the fights that you had loved him best - often pouting, lips protruding, voice lifting into a whine. And the best of all - that smile, dimples creating shadows that beg for your thumb to press them, eyes squeezing shut with happiness or laughter.
Something must show on your face, because you watch the muscles in Seungcheolâs upper body untense, as if heâd been ready to fight and recognized that you werenât.
âIâm good,â you mutter quickly, before he can ask. It feels better to lie to him before he actually asks you, like thatâs somehow less dishonest. âLetâs go.â
Form One is basic - no hits, no fancy moves. At the training center, youâd teach it to the littlest ones until they had it memorized. It was really about control and communication - precision and alignment with your partner. You had to breathe together as your feet traced opposite circles across the knots in the wooden floor. You had to rise and bend in unison. It was about watching and listening.
You and Seungcheol could - literally, youâd tried more than once - do it blindfolded in perfect step with one another. Before. You donât know if you still can. But, now, unblindfolded, itâs too easy.
You move through forms one through six without incident - both of you flowing as easily as water.
Form Seven is the first form that incorporates actual hits and blocks. Youâll have to touch for the first time, even if itâs forearm to forearm or ankle to shoulder. You move right as he moves left, crouch and circle as his right foot flies over your head, stand and punch where you know his open hand will be waiting to stop you.
It is, and you press your fist against it for just a second before spinning away to continue the form. You ache, even as your body continues following the steps, to have him entirely again - to meet his eyes and smile the way you both used to, because you were pleased with what your bodies could do. Because you had each other, completely.
After the tenth form, you bow, turn, and walk out of the ring. You drink some water, your back to him. Years ago youâd have used this break to chat, but you donât know what to say to him. Youâre scared that heâll shut down anything you say, whether you choose small talk or go straight for the heart of the problem, and you honestly donât think you can shoulder his rejection right now. So you stay quiet.
After a few short minutes of rest, you return to the center of the room. This is when youâll spar for real.
You and Seungcheol had done this for years before things went wrong. Youâd long ago adjusted to how hard you should hit, how to dodge his moves, how to make this a dance as much as a fight. Now, you feel like itâs your first time again.
Seungcheol attacks as youâd expect - all offensive, pushy, succeeding in herding you backwards even as you dodge each blow. You know his goal is to flip you, and normally you can avoid that by forcing him to go on the defensive as he avoids your own hits. Simply dodging wonât be enough - eventually heâll cage you in unless you distract him.
You throw yourself into a summersault and manage to get behind him - an opportune moment to strike. You shift your weight to follow the blow as you twist your hips to send a kick towards his unprotected head. He turns just too late - the blow will land.
You canât do it. You freeze, your core working to keep you upright as you fight your own momentum, halting the kick inches from his temple.
You know immediately that pulling the hit was a mistake. His eyes narrow, and he sweeps his foot at the ankle youâre balancing on. You crash to the ground, heaving a breath and taking quick inventory.
You arenât hurt. Not this time.
âGet up, Cherry,â he says darkly, moving back to the center to start again. âAnd donât do that shit again.â
He comes at you full force in the next match, too. You dodge and weave, but you donât try to strike. You know he knows it; this isnât how it used to work. You can almost feel him get angrier as you fight, but you canât make yourself hit back. You want him to knock you down, you deserve to take some shots.
You take two blows to the back and one to a shoulder; you fall back unsteadily but manage to find your footing and roll away from his next kick.
The match continues - you taking a handful of blows, though none with the force to level you, and Seungcheol with his lip curled in fury.
âIf youâre not going to fight, then leave,â he spits.
âWould if I could,â you retort without thinking. You mean that you donât want to be here like this - not talking, cold, at odds. But you know it reads as not wanting to be here at all.
It seems like everything you say and do only hurts him more.
âI didnât mean -â you start, and Seungcheol takes your arms and flips you over his shoulders.
âDonât waste my fucking time,â he says, brushing his hands together and stepping back to give you room to pick yourself up.
âDonât curse at me,â you answer, pushing yourself to your hands and knees, pausing to catch your breath before rising fully again.
He shakes his head, rolls his eyes a little.
You hate this side of him.
You know you deserve it. For pushing him out. For leaving him here. For loving him, messing everything up, when he never asked for that.
âSeungcheol,â you say, but he ignores you, pacing a few steps and then turning to face you, lowering himself into a defensive stance, ready to spar again.
âCheol,â you try again. âListen to me.â
âMarshall scheduled us time to talk later,â he says flatly. âRight now weâre scheduled to fight. So fight me, Cherry. Letâs go.â
The rest of the hour continues the same. By the time itâs over, Seungcheol storms out without speaking to you, furious over every single pulled punch.
You donât know what to do to make it all better.
You shower quickly, dressing in dry linens, and then re-emerge for the hours youâre scheduled to meditate together. You hope that maybe this will help the situation - maybe not talking will be good for you, give you a chance to feel your connection without the chance to fuck it up with words.
Youâre wrong; trying to meditate together is just as desperately fruitless as sparring had been.
You canât focus at all - canât shift your attention to your breath, to your body, to the earth beneath you, to the energy of your partner.
Your partner is the distraction, though he sits perfectly still, eyes closed. He might as well be yelling. His shoulders are tight, his jaw still clenched. Anger radiates off him so strongly that it makes your stomach hurt, makes you want to cower from it. You canât stop watching him, hoping youâll see him relax, hoping youâll see the moment that he lets go.
He doesnât.
âYour eyes are supposed to be closed,â he murmurs, and you feel your face heat, embarrassed that he knew you were watching him.
âI canât,â you admit. Maybe, you think, you should just be brutally honest, starting now. Itâs not like you could make this worse. âI canât stop noticing how angry -â
âThen stop pissing me off,â he snaps, eyes opening. âJust a suggestion.â
âDonât talk to me like that!â you cry, and push yourself to stand. Youâre not sure why - maybe just to pace. âYou never used to talk to me like this. Who are you?â
He looks at the floor, the first sign of guilt youâve seen since you came home.
âFine,â he finally bites back, and you know itâs as close to sorry as youâll get. âIâll reign it in. Sit back down.â
You shift your weight, arms crossed defensively across your chest, and close your eyes, deciding.
âSit down, Cherry,â he repeats, and itâs gentler now. Thatâs what makes you cave, and you settle back across from him.
Heâs less tense this time, so you eventually manage to close your eyes and count your breaths. But youâre still feeling for him, reaching for him in your mind, and coming up with nothing between you fingers. Touching him is as possible as touching the fog that used to blanket the training center, thick enough to blind you but impossible to grasp.
The pain feels like a cramp, except itâs behind your ribs instead of in your muscles. The pain grips and tightens, takes over. You want him, you want to be his again, you want to be inside these walls - where you used to fit comfortably. The fact that youâre out here, without him, aches so badly it makes you nauseated.
You want to beg him - let me in again, let me back in, let me be close to you again.
It wonât do any good, and you know it.
He was yours - you had him, you knew him, you could reach out to him and heâd pick you up. Youâd taken it for granted, and youâd run away from it. Youâd chosen to let it go, and now all you get is this: Seungcheol, cold and closed. Seungcheol, hating you for everything that happened.
â
Dinner is just as bad.
You go to the mess hall eager to see Wylie and Jeonghan and Seungkwan and all the other friends you havenât seen in years. Wylie screeches like a banshee when she spots you, crossing the mess hall in a blur and hugging you so tightly that you both stagger, off balance, until Seungkwan joins the hug and rights you again.
âI missed you both so much,â you whisper, the only vulnerability anyoneâs going to get out of you today.
âThen donât leave again!â Wylie snaps, but you know the admonishment is full of love.
âI canât promise,â you admit. Honestly, youâve already made up your mind - you want to go back to Alaska. Youâre not wanted here, not by the person who matters. What good are you, taking up a bed, if you canât drift?
Youâve already given up hope that heâll come around.
Seated at the table, you listen while your friends fill you in on what youâve missed in three years - the fights in the bay, the new teams of pilots, the illnesses and injuries. You almost donât notice Seungcheol silently takes a seat on Jeonghanâs other side, but something in you prickles, like youâve sensed him.
The tension around the table heightens; the conversation goes a little stilted. When itâs apparent that heâs going to ignore you two seats down from him, Wylie slaps her hand flat on the tabletop.
âCome on, Seungcheol,â she scolds, and youâre sure no one wonders what she means.
His face goes dark so quickly itâs alarming. âDonât,â he tells her darkly, one finger coming up to point at her in warning.
Her own eyes narrow and dart to her fork. Beside her, Chanâs eyes pingpong between them. Heâs probably wondering if he should hold her back or join her.
âItâs fine,â you mutter, grabbing your tray and making to rise. âIâll go.â
âCherry, no,â Wylie protests, and then turns a glower onto your ex-co-pilot as if to say see what you did?
âItâs fine,â you repeat, standing. âI told my mom and dad Iâd come by.â
You slink out before anyone else can argue.
You canât even be mad at him - you did this by pushing him away. You hammered every last nail in the coffin by requesting to transfer. You pushed him out and you left him behind and now you have to face the reality that you canât have him anymore. He isnât yours, not anymore.
When you return to your dorm, heâs already in bed, the lights out. Heâs facing the wall so you can only see his back, can only see the angry, tight shoulder poking out the top of the sheets. It tells you everything you need to know.
You donât try to talk to him. You just go to bed.
â
You spend four days identically - fighting while sparring, not meditating, and avoiding Seungcheolâs ice-out. On the fifth day, your Marshall loses patience and changes your schedule. Your entire day is blocked to working on Duellonaâs mainframe - buffing, repainting, greasing, and anything else youâre able to handle on your own.
âSince you canât do anything else useful,â he adds, and you avoid Seungcheolâs eyes, ashamed.
Standing under Duellonaâs unlit frame fills you with guilt. It feels like youâre letting her down, disappointing her by letting her rust here, failing your half of the bargain. You run your hands gently over the metal, finding the rough spots that need attention. Somewhere to your left, you can hear the telltale sounds of Seungcheol tightening bolts.
You work in silence for hours.
Eventually, you crack. Youâre not sure if itâs the monotony of the task, the tension woven into the silence between you too, or being so close to your jaeger but unable to fight in it - maybe a combination. Something pushes at you from the inside, like a balloon trying to inflate under your skin and running out of room.
You flop backwards on the metal walkway, the grooves digging into your back. âWhat are we doing?â you ask, and you hear the tool Seungcheol had been using cling loudly as he sets it down.
âFollowing orders?â he says, stepping around Duellonaâs side to look at you. âFixing up the jaeger?â
âFixing up the jaeger we donât get to pilot?â you ask, sitting back up to look at him better.
âIs that what youâre here for?â he asks, the sudden ferocity of it surprising you. âTo fight? Is that why you came back?â
You reach up to the walkwayâs railing and pull yourself up. You feel yourself frowning at his question, at the heat behind it.Â
âIâm back because the Marshall gave me an order,â you say slowly.Â
âAnd thatâs it?â he demands.Â
You stare at him. You feel sure thereâs more to the question, more that heâs asking. You feel sure, after knowing Choi Seungcheol down to the last molecule, that heâs really asking, you didnât come back for me?
And it confuses you. You try to think about your split from his perspective: youâd shut him out, then slept with him, and then vanished. Youâd made a lot of assumptions about his anger since then. You assumed he was angry at you for pushing him out of your head. You assumed he was angry at you for sleeping with him and then leaving. You assumed he was angry with you for ruining your drift, for ripping him away from the ability to fight. You assumed he was angry because he never knew why - never knew what it was that you were so desperate to hide, never knew why sleeping together had made things so much worse that the neural connection had fizzled into nothing altogether.
Is there more to it, his anger?
Should you call him on it, should you ask?
You take too long deciding. Seungcheol scoffs, like heâs disgusted with you. âI should have known,â he says coldly. âPrincess of the Shatterdome, I should have known you only cared about piloting - about your legacy.â
This is something youâve never said to him - that your desire to shine as brightly as your parents has weighed on you. This is something heâd pulled from the drift, something he only knew from tiptoeing around your mind before a fight.Â
âThat isnât fair,â you say, your voice hard. âIs there another reason I should have come back? Iâd love to hear it.â
He hears the challenge as it is - you didnât ask me to come back, the Marshall did. You let me go.
He has nothing to say for himself, just stares back at you, eyes narrowed in anger, chest moving too quickly as he battles with his temper.
âExactly,â you say curtly. The victory stings. It doesnât feel like a win at all. âThe bottom line is Iâm here now, and we can pilot again if we can get our shit together.â
He shakes his head. âYou left,â he says finally. âThatâs the bottom line. You decided you were out, you decided you didnât want me in your head, and then you left.â
He watches you, waits for you to say something. When you donât, he lets out a derisive little laugh. âWeâre both wasting our time here. The drift wonât work. We arenât going to fix it.â
For the first time, fear slices through you like steel. âYou canât know that,â you say. You hear the fear in the way your voice comes out low and rounded, barely sounding like you at all.
âI can,â he retorts. âYou know how I know? Because I donât want to. You wanted me out of your head so badly? You got it. Canât turn back now.â
He heads for the ladder, swings around and finds the third rung down with ease.
âSo thatâs it?â you ask his retreating form. Your heart is hammering and youâre starting to get tunnel vision.Â
The only answer he gives you are his feet hitting each new rung with a clunk and a vibration that rattles up your legs.
â
You go to the training rooms alone and run through the forms just to do something; your mind turns the problem over and over as your body goes through the motions. After, you take a longer shower than normal, letting the water run hotter than you normally would.
After, you go to the Marshallâs office, determined. Or maybe resigned.
When he opens the door, he already looks irritated, like he knew exactly who would be on the other side.
âRequesting an audience,â you say flatly, fighting the instinct to cross your arms defensively.
He glances at his watch. âFive minutes.â
You step inside but leave the door open.
âIâm requesting transfer back to Alakanuk,â you tell him as evenly as you can manage. Youâre sure heâs not surprised. âSeungcheol has made it very clear that we wonât be fighting together again. If thatâs the case, then I canât do anything useful here. But in Alakanuk I can.â
You pause, looking to see if you can read anything on the Marshallâs face - any hint that heâs considering what youâre saying, or that itâs a lost cause. He gives you nothing.
âPlease,â you say. âThose girls need me. If I canât help here, I can help them.â
The Marshall tilts his head just slightly. âSurely anyone can teach little girls the forms.â
You shake your head. âItâs more than that, and you know it. Itâs not about the forms. I love those girls. I came back here to follow orders, and I tried. But if it isnât going to happen⌠Please, donât make me waste time here if I can be with them instead.â
The silence when you stop speaking seems to last for hours. Your heart pounds, and you work on keeping your breathing even. If he tells you no, you might just lose it, just give up entirely.
Finally, he takes a breath and seems to consider you. âIf,â he says, and your eyes widen with hope, âyour co-pilot agrees, then I will reassign you back to Alaska. But only if he will agree.â
âNo problem,â you say quickly. Seungcheol was the one who said it was over. He should have no problem letting you leave.
When you step out of the Marshallâs office, Seungcheol steps out of the shadows. You should be surprised to see him, but in the Shatterdome it feels right that he just is wherever you are. Thatâs always how it was, before.
You look at him disdainfully. âI assume you heard that conversation?â
He nods, once.
âSo?â you ask. âWill you tell him you approve, so I can go?â
For the first time since you returned, Seungcheol smiles, tight and sarcastic.
âNo,â he says easily, like itâs kind of funny.
Fury erupts inside you; you canât even pinpoint where in your body it stems from. âWhy?â you demand. âBecause you feel like I took something from you, so you want to take something from me?â
He doesnât respond to this. You know youâre right. You know him. You know his mind.
âI hate to fuck up your narrative,â you spit at him, âbut Iâve lost out here just as much as you have. Youâre not the only one who lost the ability to fight. Youâre not the only one who lost their partner.â
You wish you could tell him the rest - youâre not the one who spent three years with a broken heart on top of it. He had lost you as a partner and a friend - you had lost him in the same ways, and youâd had to harbor your broken heart.
He shakes his head. âPoor baby,â he bites sarcastically, and then takes off down the hallway, into the dark.
â
You stop sleeping at the dorm. Sometimes you sleep at your parentsâ, sometimes on Wylie and Chanâs tiny couch, sometimes in bed with Seungkwan, who kicks at you and whines that you take up too much space. Sometimes you sleep inside Duellona Fury, sitting up, your back against her metal frame.
The Marshall seems to have taken some pity on you. He schedules your mornings training the Domeâs recruits, and lets Seungcheol get back to what he was doing in your absence - which seems to be on track to move up in rank, to maybe become a Marshall himself, someday. It isnât quite the same as being back with your girls, but training recruits feels at least somewhat fulfilling. And it keeps you and Seungcheol busy - separately - until afternoon.
Then, he schedules you to spar.
In your first week, youâd been unwilling to hit Seungcheol. Youâd been feeling guilty for hurting him, sad for your time apart, hopeful that if you were soft to him, then heâd be soft back to you.
Now, youâre fucking furious.
For the first time, when the match begins, you hit him first. Heâs surprised for only a second, eyebrows shooting up as he stumbles for balance, and then you watch something delighted and devilish fall over his face. Like he knows exactly what dance this is, and heâs been learning the steps in secret.
The match is brutal, reminiscent of your very first one, when you were both nineteen. You throw hit after hit his way; he blocks or dodges all of them. But he canât get a hit on you either - youâre too quick, spurred on by fury. Youâve been angry in a fight before. But youâve never been angry at him.
You spin and throw up a kick, expecting his forearm to rise and block it. Instead, you knock him in the jaw.
He grunts, hand flying up to cover his mouth, and you drop your stance with a gasp.
âShit!â you cry, hurrying closer. âIâm so sorry! Are you bleeding? Let me look.â
ââM fine,â he mutters thickly from behind his hand, but you ignore him. For a second, things are how they used to be between you. He lets you peel his hand away, lets you gingerly turn his head this way and that, even opens up so you can check his teeth.
âYouâre gonna have a fat lip,â you tell him regretfully. âBut nothingâs bleeding. Teeth look okay. Anything loose in there?â
He pokes around his teeth with his pinky. âNope.â
You take a step back, cowed. âIâm really sorry.â
He laughs a little, wryly. âI bet you feel better, though.â
You bite back a smile. âActuallyâŚâ you say, and he laughs again. You both do.
Somehow, this seems to be the thing that cracks the anger youâve both been encased in, unable to move forward or backward. You feel melted, and you wonder if he feels freer now, too.
âI didnât mean to hurt you,â you say. You mean the kick, but the words land heavy.
He avoids your gaze. âI need some water,â he says, turning and heading to the side of the room.
You do the same, sitting heavily on the bench where your water waits for you.
âHey,â he says, and you look over, brows raised in anticipation. âTell me about Alaska.â
You canât help but smile.
âItâs so beautiful,â you tell him. âGod, Cheol, the ocean there. And the birds, and the snowâŚâ
Heâs watching you, listening, but while he listens he stands and heads to the center of the ring, settling into a starting form. With a small smile, you follow, standing opposite him. He starts an easy match thatâs mostly just following the eighth form. It includes some hits and blocks, but you both do them gently, easily, circling each other slowly.
âSo you liked it?â he asks. You can hear how hard heâs working to make it sound casual.
âIt was so beautiful,â you admit before ducking below a kick. âBut it was also⌠really hard.â
âWhat was the best part?â he asks.
You smile, block a hit. He almost gets his hands on you for a flip, but you dodge around behind him. He turns to follow you. âWeirdly, it was taking care of them outside of class. We - the instructors - we kind of their moms, away from home, you know? Iâm the one who knew Yejin wonât sleep unless someone sits by her bed for a while. Iâm the one that knew that Farrah and Salome only argue because theyâre competitive. Iâm the one that knew that Maria and Anjali donât know their times-tables, that Ximena canât brush her own hair, or that Iseul is allergic to fish. I loved them. I loved knowing them.â
He looks at you for a long time. âMaybe you should go back,â he says finally.
It feels like a trap.Â
You look at the floor, at the wall, then finally back at him. âIf youâll do this for real,â you say carefully, âthen Iâd rather be here. If weâre actually trying, then I donât want to go.â
Heâs quiet for a long time. Finally, he swallows hard, not looking at you.
âWhat was the worst part?â
Thereâs only one answer.
âMissing you,â you say. âLosing you.â
He manages to get both of your arms and hauls you over his shoulders. You land on your back so hard that the air is knocked out of your lungs and your eyes close protectively. For a second, you lay there panting, waiting for the pain in your back to settle down, waiting for the stars behind your eyelids to calm.
When you open them again, the ceiling coming into focus above you, the room is empty.
â
You have a hunch on where you can find him, and you head to the jaeger bay. Sure enough, heâs sitting below Duellona, knees to his chest, staring up at her.
You sit next to him and he doesnât get up and leave, which you take as a good sign.
âI canât do this if youâre not all in,â he tells you without looking at you. âYou walked away from me once. I canât let you back in my head if thereâs any possibility youâll walk away again. If youâre with me, I need you to be with me.â
Something prickles in the back of your head. You feel like youâre starting to realize something - the seed of an understanding is pushing delicately through the dirt, but hasnât yet spread out its leaves under the warmth of the sun yet.
Something about his hurt. Something about why.
âI think we should try to drift,â you tell him.
This seems to startle him - he forgets to be cold, turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.
âI can tell you how much I missed you,â you reason, âand tell you about how I spent every minute just⌠steeped in regret. Or we can walk through it - you can see for yourself.â
You know what youâre risking. If he gets into your head now, heâll see it all - heâll know everything, heâll be able to feel for himself the depth of your loss, the height of your love.Â
But whatâs the harm, now? You canât lose him twice. Maybe itâll be enough for him to realize you hadnât left him because you didnât care about him. Maybe itâll be enough for his forgiveness.Â
Maybe then, heâll tell the Marshall to let you go back to Alakanuk.Â
Itâs Seungkwan you bother, since heâd been in mission control before finding his team of co-pilots. The sideways look he gives you as he walks to your conn pod is withering, but you know better than to take it personally.
You buzz with nerves. The last time youâd tried this, the neural handshake hadnât even connected. There had just been nothing.
The second you hear neural handshake initiating, you almost sob with relief. You canât even pay attention to the memories - Seungcheolâs memories - floating around you; you want to collapse, to press your palms to the ground and thank the universe for letting you back in.
His first memories are a breeze - the ones youâve jogged through together hundreds of times: his first home, his school, his fatherâs hospital room, the Dome. Then you slow your pace, because this is new.
Youâre facing the landing dock on the Shatterdomeâs roof. Seungcheol stands with his back to you, watching through the glass walls as a helicopter waits, the pilot talking into his headset.
You watch yourself walk towards the chopperâs open door. You watch yourself leave, remember how hard it was to not look back.
You hadnât known that Seungcheol had been there, that he had seen you go.
The pain that accompanies the memory hits you like youâre drowning, like itâs too deep and you canât feel the bottom, and you feel the machinery falter around you.
âHey,â you say quietly. âIâm with you.â
He nods, still doesnât look at you. But the beeping stops, the connection holding.Â
Thereâs knowledge in this memory, knowledge in this pain. Seungcheolâs thoughts in this moment read in your head as clearly as if he said them aloud - I did this. I pushed her too far; I made her run.
You canât stay here, canât let him wallow in the memory of pain. You had to move forward - thatâs how the drift works. Reluctantly you step towards the door, glancing over your shoulder to see if heâs following.Â
He is. His jaw is tight and fists are clenched, but he is.
When the next memory - not in order of chronology, clearly - appears before you, you want to vanish into the floor. Youâre watching yourselves in Seungcheolâs bed. Thankfully, youâre sleeping - this was after. But in the memory, Seungcheol is awake, laying on his side, his eyes drinking in your sleeping form.
The emotions and the knowledge come with it in an instant. The tenderness and the love he felt in that moment surround you now in the memory, unignorable, impossible to mistake.Â
He had loved you. He had known you loved him, and he was showing you how he felt. The understanding slams you so hard that you think you stop breathing.
âSeungcheol,â you whisper. Around you, the scene begins to flicker, the connection starting to react to the oversaturation of emotion.
âWe can talk about it after,â he says, voice hard. âDonât stay in it. Find the next door.â
Your eyes find the door, but you feel frozen. You want the connection to drop, you want to unlock yourself from the stupid drive-suit and throw yourself into his arms, you want to apologize for leaving him thinking heâd pushed you away, thinking that he scared you into running.
âCherry,â he warns. âThe drift canât -â
You know.Â
And you owe him your side of the story.
You take a steeling breath and head for the door. You donât take his hand. You donât know if you deserve to, if heâd want you to.
When you step through the doors, youâre confused - youâre still in your dorm. Your bodies are both in the bed.
Now, though, Seungcheol sleeps, and you - the memory of you - sits on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands.Â
You feel the emotion the memory holds, which means Seungcheol does, too.
Fear. Itâs still fear - fear that heâll know, fear that what you just did together will make it worse, make it harder to hide.Â
Beside you, Seungcheolâs eyes go wide.Â
âWe have to move on,â you tell him. He looks at you, then back at the memory.Â
âYou -?â he starts to ask.
âAfter,â you tell him firmly. âWeâll talk after.â
You open the door, and youâre suddenly outside, surrounded by white.
Alaska.
The emotion knocks you over with the fury of an ocean wave - even though you know youâre not supposed to let it. This was how you had felt every day that you were gone, and it screams at you now, determined to be heart, determined to be felt. The loneliness, the regret, the despair and heartbreak all rise up in you, overtaking you, as snow falls gently and silently around you.
And the love. That never went away. That never mellowed, as the Marshall had put it.
If he didnât know before, he has to know now. Thereâs no way he couldnât.
Seungcheol squeezes your hand, and you almost jump. You look down at your linked fingers in shock, then up at him, eyes wide.
âWe should go back and talk about this,â he tells you, but his grip on you is firm, assuring.
âOkay. Itâs this way,â you tell him, trying to breathe, and you lead him by the hand through the snow. The fog strengthens as you walk, until you canât see anything but grey, canât see anything but Seungcheolâs hand in yours.
You continue on. You know where to go. When you step through, the fog vanishes as if it was never there, nothing gradual about it. With the fog gone, you can see clearly where you are - inside Duellona Furyâs conn-pod.
As you begin to work on the straps, you call through the intercom, âKwan? We⌠need some privacy. Weâve got to talk - alone.â
His voice crackles back at you. âYes, Iâm leaving, Iâm already gone. If you hear popcorn crunching, no you donât.â
Seungcheol gives you a flat look. âLetâs go home and talk,â he suggests.
Home.
You are so afraid and so hopeful. You donât know how to juggle both.
Back in your small living space, you sit like youâre meditating.
âLetâs figure this out,â he says. âNo lies.â
âNo lies,â you agree. Your knees touch, and you reach to take his hands. He lets you, giving your fingers a squeeze.
âYou knew,â you say first, bordering on accusation. âI was trying so hard to hide how I felt about you⌠but you knew.â
He nods, his eyes on you. âAnd you,â he says slowly, âdidnât⌠know? That I knew?â
You shake your head, confirming. âI didnât know. I thought I hid it.â
He smiles at you, a little placating. âNot as well as you would have liked.â
âAnd youâŚâ You chicken out, swallow, force yourself to be brave. âYou⌠loved me, too?â
He nods. âI did.âÂ
The air leaves your lungs so forcefully that you bend over, pressing your forehead to the tops of your hands. He pulls his hands from yours and you feel his touch, firm and reassuring, cupping your shoulders and rubbing his thumbs along them.
âWe felt the same,â you echo into your shins. âYou loved me.â
âCherry,â he says above you, his voice like a plea. âI donât understand why - when we⌠when I⌠I felt like once I forced you to look at it, it was too much. You ran.â
You sit with this for a minute, stunned and processing. His hands are back in yours, which you take as a good sign.Â
âYou thought⌠wait. You thought, after that night, that I knew how you felt, too?â
He nods. âI thought you knew,â he says, confusion still present in his tone. âI thought we both knew. I thought if it was out in the open, the glitch in the drift would be fixed.â
You wipe at your face, trying to breathe. âAnd instead,â you realize, âwe couldnât even connect, because I was still trying to hide it from you, and then you were hurt. I thought it was broken. I thought we really broke it forever.â
He looks at you in wonder. âThatâs why you left,â he breathes, and you know heâs understanding this for the first time. âYou thought we made the problem worse.â
Itâs your turn to nod. âAfter weâŚI mean, I knew if I couldnât hide it from you before that night, there was no chance Iâd be able to hide it after. I kept you out in the first place because I⌠was afraid. I was afraid for you to see how much I loved you. It seemed⌠hopeless to keep trying.â
The words lay bloody between you, but his grip on your hands is strong, and you take another breath.
You push on, adding, âI was afraid it would be too much. I was afraid everything would change.â
Which it did, you think. He nods, like he hears this, like he agrees.
He releases you and leans back, blowing out a loud breath. âWeâre so fucking stupid,â he says, and you splutter out a laugh.
âWe really are.â
âI canât believe we lost three years over that,â he says.
âI canât believe you thought it was your fault that I left.â
âI canât believe you left in the first place.â
This makes you smile, guilty. âThatâs fair.â
You push yourself to stand; Seungcheol mirrors you, as if youâre already in the neural handshake, bodies working in tandem.Â
âCherry,â he says quietly, stepping closer. âIt could never be too much. I love you. Iâm crazy about you. Iâm only me when Iâm with you.â
You remember him, the night youâd slept together, telling you, donât be afraid. Heâd told you, after all, and youâd missed it entirely.
You close the distance between your bodies and kiss him hard. His arms circle your waist immediately, like they were waiting for you. He kisses you back hungrily. His mouth meets yours eagerly, his tongue stroking yours confidently before he shifts his attention to your jaw, your neck, then your mouth again. His hands donât wander this time - instead he holds you so firmly it almost hurts, like he wonât let you move an inch, wonât let you out of his grasp ever again.
You cradle his face between your hands, let your teeth gently scrape along his bottom lip. âCheol,â you whisper, then kiss him again. âYouâre everything.â Itâs what you should have said aloud the night youâd slept with him.
When the kiss breaks, he presses his lips to the top of your head and holds them there, melting around you a little. You give his middle a squeeze, revel in his heartbeat surrounding you like music.
âIâm sorry,â he whispers. âIâm sorry I didnât just say it.â
âMe too,â you tell him, holding him just a little tighter. âI should never have tried to hide it from you in the first place.â
He kisses your temple, and you hold each other, silently, each grappling with the time youâd wasted apart.Â
Youâre interrupted by a knock. You break apart, puzzled. Youâre even more puzzled to see your Marshall at the door, and Seungkwan literally bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.
âIâve heard your drift is working again,â the Marshall says dryly.Â
You look over your shoulder at Seungcheol, grinning. âSeems like it.â
âThereâs a Cat-1 reading in the bay. I was about to alarm for Pretty Savage to drop, but Savageâs team insisted I give you the opportunity first. They can follow as backup. How do you feel?â
Seungcheol is at your side. He looks at you, his face open and raw. âWell?â he asks you. âAre you in, or are you out?â
âIâm in,â you tell him seriously. âIâm with you.â
You thrum with excitement as a tech team helps strap you into the drive-suits, and you canât help but shoot Seungcheol a wild grin, your happiness alive and unbounded.Â
You tell mission control - Nainsi, probably, just like the old days - âReady and aligned.â
Mission Control - definitely Nainsi - responds, âPrepare for neural handshake.â
The artificial voice bounces around you - 3⌠2⌠1⌠neural handshake initiatingâŚ
Around you, the machines flicker busily. Neural handshake strong and holding. Now calibratingâŚ
Youâre crying, but you ignore it. You beam through tears, looking sideways at your co-pilot. His eyes dance as he smiles back at you. You want to unstrap yourself to the drivesuit and go kiss his dimples, the dimples you hadnât seen in years. You resist the urge.
âReady to drop?â He looks sideways at you, sly.Â
You scoff at him, your own grin cocky and sure, like youâre twenty again, like nothing had ever been broken between you. âBeen ready. Letâs light âem up.â
â end
thank you so much for reading!!!!
stay tuned for more fics in this universe! Wylie and Chan will get their own fic written by @sailorrhansol, as will Woozi! I'm also planning a Vernon x Reader in this universe, too! Should be a fun time!!
#kvanity#svthub#svt fanfic#svt fic#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt imagines#scoups fanfic#s.coups fanfic#seungcheol fanfic#scoups fic#seungcheol fic#s.coups x reader#scoups x reader#seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol x reader#scoups x you#scoups x y/n#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x y/n#choi seungcheol x you#scoups angst#scoups smut#seungcheol angst#seungcheol smut#exes to lovers#pacific rim au#fic: cherrybomb
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