#stop letting people be ignorant assholes you fucks

[readymades2002]

who even give a fuck. yknow

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, yandere, toxic relationship, friends with benefits, guns, threats of harm and death, name-calling

gn reader

When you open your heart to your fuck-friend, he sighs with rust.

You still have his cum inside your hole as he tears you a new one—telling you he doesn’t have the fucking time or the fucking energy to deal with lovey-dovey confessions right now—he has enough bullshit on his goddamn plate already without having to consider you and your fucking feelings as well.

If you’re not going to shut up and fuck him, you might as well shut up and fuck off.

So you do. The latter, that is.

Part of you knew it was going to end up this way. You with your heart broken and him with the blood on his hands. But part of you had hoped as well—hoped he felt the same way—hoped your words would soften his edges and wash away all the muck in his head enough to let you in.

You’d read a little too much into those gentle touches he sometimes bestowed upon you in his weaker moments—that soft way he cried when holding onto you during the night, wordless and clingy and begging you not to go.

But the more you think about it, the less you understand why your heart aches. It doesn’t really make much sense after all…

In truth, he’s an asshole. Always been. And you deserve better.

He’s always so angry. Always on something mudding up his blood. Never with anything nice to say. It doesn’t really matter how you’d held him in his nightmares or patched him up when he’d stumbled through your door drunk and bloody. 

Scarred boys in need of fixing aren’t good for your health—especially when all they have to offer you in return are callous words of rejection.

He’d always been secretive. He wasn’t a very good lover—but you're not entirely sure if he was ever even a good man. The wounds he’d dreg to your apartment in the middle of the night always left blood on your sheets. He never agreed to go to the hospital—always insisted your first-aid kit was enough, even when he'd come to you with bullets you’d have to dig out with a pair of tweezers.

You realize he’d been using you. You were convenient and stopped being convenient the minute you wanted more—and upon the realization, you move on.

And then he comes crawling back…

Shivering in the rain like a beaten street mutt—looking starved and sick like one, too. There’s blood on his shirt and a grim darkness in his eyes. He tells you to let him in, and you only barely have the guts to tell him to go away. 

He has this tortured look on his face—as though something’s your fault, as though you’ve wronged him in some way, as though you’re the reason he’s out in the cold with nowhere to go.

Barging in and slamming the door behind him—he locks it and pockets the key—ignoring your questions as you ask him what the fuck’s gotten into him. He looks deranged—water dripping from his matted bangs, eyes reddened, and cheeks streaked. You only now notice it isn't because of the rain.

“You said you wanted me, didn’t you?” he huffs. “Here I am.”

You’re tense. You hadn’t felt like that with him before, it takes you a minute to realize it’s because you’re scared. After all, you’d wanted him all those other times—rough or otherwise. And now you didn’t want him at all. 

“You should leave. You’ve been drinking.”

“What? You changed your mind already?” he accused, then scoffed with a not-so-unamused laugh. “I’m not surprised. People like you, who like danger and bad men, are always so fickle-hearted.” He approaches you too fast for you to back away, his scarred hands curling into your sweater—split skin from recent beatings bleed onto the fabric. “Flighty little slut, you’ve probably already found the next guy who gives you a rush. Isn’t that right?” He’s seething as he pulls you forward, looking like a hostile hound.

You lay your hands on his chest to keep him at a distance—feeling his entire body shake like static beneath your touch. You wonder if he’s taken drugs tonight, but looking into his eyes, you don’t think so. They aren’t fidgety but deadset. Actually, upon closer look, you don’t even think he’s drunk.

But anyway, it doesn’t really matter. You still don’t want him here. “I’m serious. Get out, or I’m calling the police.”

“Oh? Are we slinging threats now?” he jeers, showing no signs of letting go or leaving—he only pulls you in closer, so close you could kiss. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now.” He breathes out another short excuse for a laugh as you veer away, putting his lips to your ear instead. “You should have been from the start—but no—grinding up on me at the club as though you’d die without my attention. Crying pretty tears when you saw me all beaten and bruised—acting as though you want to save me. Tch—”

He throws you down on the carpeted floor. You wince from the impact, and when you look up again, you see he has a gun pointed at you.

You stop breathing. A dark sinkhole in your gut seems to want to swallow you from the inside, and you think you might just want it to if it means escaping the threat before you.

“I shouldn't have come here…” he mutters—finger resting on the trigger all too calmy. “But I just couldn’t get your face out of my head. Looking up at me with those doe-eyes, wearing my shirt even though it’s got blood on it after I fuck you silly, saying such sweet little nothings as if I’d paid you to.”

He sighs—heavily—as though he’s expelling spirits. His hand remains holding the gun poised and pointed straight down at you even as the other drags down his face, pulling his maw before sliding through his wet locks, raking them away from his face.

“I gotta kill you, you know?” he says, shoulders slumping with the statement. He sniffs—it's almost soft enough to be a sniffle. “That’s the only way to solve this. That’s the only way to get you out of my fucking head.”

He cocks the safety with a click that makes your life flash before your eyes. Faces of your family and friends, people you haven't seen in years, childhood pets long dead, a job interview, the holiday you felt true happiness, the night you went out dancing and met him.

The tears stream silently down your face, and you still don’t breathe. Every part of you, every nerve and muscle, has gone completely still. Unmoving, unblinking as you stare up through the barrel of the gun and wait for the bullet to come through.

His finger curls tighter around the trigger, and you close your eyes with a furl between your brows. And then…

Nothing. There’s a large exhale.

“I can’t do it…” 

You open your eyes to see the gun lowered. The sight brings a fresh rush of air back to your lungs, making you all but wheeze as it fills you, breathing in far too much and much too quickly. You regain some semblance worth of motoric, too—able to scramble backward until there’s no more room to be gained, sitting with your back against the wall. Eyes peeled at him where he’s taken to crouch, holding his head with his free hand and the one still with the gun in it.

He fists his hair and tugs on it frustratedly, muttering to himself. “Dozens of lives on my hands, and I can't kill this one single-” he stopped short.

This time, when he looks at you, there’s something else in his eyes. No malice or scorn, but something sad—pity almost.

“Well… seems like you got what you wanted...”

The pity’s for you.

“This is what having my heart feels like.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Toji ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[wonusite]

Cat and Mouse

❝ Wonwoo doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant in avoiding him after the amazing night you two spent together, but he’s not going to let you get away from him so easily. ❞

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x female reader

GENRE: bad boy au, smut

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

WARNINGS: bad boy!wonwoo, allusions of illicit activities, descriptions of minor injuries, wonwoo is down HORRENDOUS, reader is in denial about her feelings, our bad boi is soft for one (1) person, mutual pining, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, mating press, aftercare

ㅤ→ continuation of this timestamp

A/N: here’s a little something to celebrate one year with this blog. very grateful to all my followers and mutuals who’ve made this past year amazing! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Wonwoo glares at his phone, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in annoyance.

It’s been a week. An entire fucking week without hearing from you. He knew he should’ve ignored Jihoon’s calls and stayed in bed with you that night, but when he sent a message saying the entire crew needed to be there, he couldn’t ignore it. Now, he really wishes he would have.

The night he spent with you was the most incredible of his life, and now he might never relive it because he left in a haste, only leaving you with a brief kiss and a promise to come back.

“You still torn up over that sweet lil’ thing from that flower shop?” Seungcheol's voice has never sounded more irritating than it does now.

“That’s Shua’s girl, dumbass.”

Being on the receiving end of that mean tone and angry glare doesn’t faze Seungcheol in the slightest. In fact, it only causes his infamous smirk to get wider. To see the stoic Jeon Wonwoo acting up over a girl is not only a rarity, but it’s also really fucking funny. That’s why he can’t resist pushing Wonwoo’s buttons further.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Seungcheol cackles. “Guess you better hurry up and help us finish this shit. Her shift ends soon.”

Wonwoo can feel his irritation near that boiling point he could usually avoid. Of course Seungcheol knows about your schedule. That asshole has the annoying habit of knowing everything about anyone who is even the tiniest bit associated with the crew. Sure, it’s for precautionary reasons, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. Nonetheless, Wonwoo focuses on the task at hand so he can catch you before you leave work.

Jeon Wonwoo is the bane of your existence.

From the moment he first came around with that stupidly attractive smirk of his, your life was never the same. And now that you fucked him, it never will be again.

Giving into your carnal desires isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but getting mixed up with the likes of Jeon Wonwoo definitely is. Despite not knowing all of the grimy details, you know he’s bad news. You can see all the red flags clearly—the people he hangs around, all the fights he gets in, and the tattoos littering his body. And yet, none of those warning signs mattered now or when Wonwoo was ravishing you in a way that still made your toes curl just by thinking about it.

Maybe the worst part of it all is that you can’t get the resident bad boy out of your head, or the way he held you after you two had sex. It’s like you can still feel how he nuzzled into your neck, strong arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let you go. Part of you hopes that he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t had some urgent business to take care of. It’s a dangerous thought, but even so you can’t help but crave that uncharacteristically sweet side of him that he presumably only showed you.

A displeased sigh comes out of you as you gather your things to go home. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo, but to think that you’re actually pining over him even though he literally disappeared after your night together is—

“Y/N left already.”

It’s Mingyu’s voice you hear at first, and it makes you stop in your tracks. You wonder who could be asking for you until you hear someone answer him. It feels like your heart is going to jump out of your chest when you hear a familiar deep voice that has your stupid pussy clenching in anticipation.

“Alright. Thanks.”

You peek out from the back when you hear the door chime. It’s annoying that your chest tightens when you see a set of wide shoulders draped in a leather jacket walking toward the large motorcycle parked outside. The way your mind goes blank yet is also clogged with nothing but thought of Wonwoo is infuriating. You don’t realize you’re pouting at the exit until Mingyu jumps back in shock at seeing your sulking figure.

“Y/N what– I thought you left!” He says, vaguely gesturing behind him. “You just missed your boyfriend! I think he wanted to take you home—”

“Boyfriend?” You interrupt him, not entirely angry or disgusted that your coworker had referred to Wonwoo as such.

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah? The scary dude with the leather jacket that comes in here all the time just to see you. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

It’s almost mortifying that your sweet but oblivious coworker can tell that there was something going on between you and the resident bad boy. And yet, there’s also a part of you that likes the fact that Wonwoo is so obvious about his feelings. You don’t know what to make of these conflicting emotions that you can’t seem to shake, and seeing Wonwoo (even just the back of him) didn’t help you find the clarity you so desperately need.

“Well, even if he’s not, he definitely wants to fuck you.” Mingyu says with a wink as he brushes past you to check on the pastries he had put in the oven ten minutes ago.

You wonder how he would react if you told him that Wonwoo already has.

Wonwoo thinks you’re the cutest person ever. And the part of you he finds the most cute? The fact that you actually think he’s going to let you avoid him forever. You’re good at it, he’ll give you that (even if he can see right through your every method).

It’s funny that you actually change your off days and regular working hours just to avoid seeing him and throw him off, which it does—at first. He knows you haven’t quit because Josh mentioned seeing you at the bakery when he went to buy the love of his life a cake for her birthday. This is confirmed when he goes to see for himself the next day.

Maybe you don’t realize Wonwoo can see you run to the back through the large glass windows when you hear his motorcycle, but either way he thinks it’s funny. Actually, it’s hilarious because soon enough you were going to give into him like before.

Meanwhile, you feel like a mouse being preyed on by a sly cat—one that’s toying with you before he finally catches you. Avoiding Wonwoo had been easy at first, but now you’re starting to wonder if he had let it seem easy.

“Babydoll.”

You almost drop a tray of croissants when you hear a familiar deep voice calling for you. The way you whip around with a gaping mouth must be hilarious because Wonwoo just smirks at you in that infuriating way that drives you crazy. Your hands tighten around the tray as you snap your mouth closed, trying to contemplate on how to navigate the situation.

With a bit of a mental pep talk, you finally manage to put up that happy to help attitude you usually had with every other customer. The smile you give him feels exaggerated and fake, but it’s the only way you can mask all the emotions you’re feeling.

“What can I get for you?”

That devilish smirk widens as Wonwoo pretends to skim all the delicious pastries in the case before he sets his smoldering eyes back on you. “This all looks good,” he muses quietly, but you can hear him perfectly since it’s only you two. “But I think you’re the only thing that can satisfy my hunger.”

It kills you that his words make you heat up from the inside out. You ignore him and start to put the croissants into the case. The clench of your jaw is tight and bordering on painful, but it’s the only way you can keep your emotions from spilling over for him to see.

Unfortunately, your lack of response doesn’t really faze him. One thing you’ve come to learn about Wonwoo is that he’s never uncomfortable in the silence. You wish you could say the same. You’re nearly squirming by the time you’re done placing the croissants in their designated space because he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you once.

Finally, you look up to meet Wonwoo’s gaze. It’s so intense that you almost want to look away. However, there’s a part of you that loves being under the heat of his stare since you can clearly see the desire he has for you.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“You’ve been gone.” You counter, vaguely aware that you sound like a sulking girlfriend.

Wonwoo realizes this too because he gently coos at you. “Missed me, babydoll?”

Yes. “You wish.”

It’s obvious Wonwoo doesn’t believe you. That stupid smirk of his only seems to get bigger with every passing moment, and you don’t know if you want to kiss it or smack it off his face.

“I missed you.” He tells you honestly, loving how you’re visibly growing flustered with his words.

Resisting him would be a lot easier if he wasn’t so tempting to you and if the feelings he always evoked from you weren’t so strong. Before you can say anything to betray your easily crumbling facade, Mingyu comes out from the back with a tray of small cakes. Wonwoo gives you a once over before stepping away from the case.

“I’ll be back after your shift. Wait for me.”

You don’t wait for him—technically. It’s not waiting since Wonwoo is already outside of the bakery when your shift ends. He’s clad in his leather jacket, dark jeans, and signature combat boots. It’s not fair that he can lean against his bike so casually while looking as good as ever.

Ignoring him would’ve been all too easy, but you can’t when you notice the bruises and cuts on his pretty face. A familiar irritation bubbles in your chest, but annoyingly enough, it’s overpowered by the concern you feel. You react before you can fully think your actions through.

“What the hell!”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen the tiniest bit when you stomp over to him with angry tears in your eyes. You can’t even enjoy his cute shocked face because of the overwhelming concern and anger you feel. All you can do is hit his brawny chest in frustration.

“You—You asshole!” Your voice cracks with raw emotion as you continue to weakly hit his chest. “You said– you promised that you weren’t going to fight anymore—!”

Wonwoo lets you hit him. His chest aches, but not because of your soft blows. The last thing he meant to do was make you cry, and it’s something he wishes to never see again. His large hands come up to cup your face, fingers delicately wiping your tears. “I know I should’ve kept my promise, and I’m sorry. Just please don’t cry anymore.”

You let out a quiet whimper at his tenderness. His eyes are full of so much remorse and concern that it makes any remaining willpower you have left disappear. It feels right to bury yourself in his chest and let yourself be held by him. He caresses your back, and you can’t hate that it actually makes you feel better.

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull back and smack Wonwoo’s beefy chest again. “Asshole.”

“Your asshole.” His haze is tender as he cradles your tearstained cheek in his hand.

You scowl at him, but it’s quickly wiped off your face when he places a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. A sudden desire consumes you when you see Wonwoo’s affectionate gaze. This time you let yourself be driven by your desire and press your lips against his.

It’s easy for him to melt into the kiss. Wonwoo sighs into your mouth as one of his hands comes up to cup your face. His rings feel cool against your warm skin, and you let out a quiet moan when his other hand slips into the back pocket of your jeans and squeezes your ass while pulling you closer to him.

The kiss is slow at first until your hands smooth over Wonwoo’s chest and fist his shirt to pull him closer. You part your lips to allow his tongue to slip into your mouth. It feels like you got struck by a bolt of electricity the longer his lips are on yours. His desire and hunger are evident in his needy movement, and you absolutely love it.

When you two finally pull away, you’re left breathless. Wonwoo’s thumb gently caresses your cheek as his heart pounds harshly in his chest. “Stay the night with me, babydoll.”

“M’kay.” You breathe out, mind still swimming.

The smile he gives you is so pretty that it makes something inside you burn with ardent desire. You feel like you’re floating on air when Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet that happens to be your favorite color. He looks bashful as he waits for you to accept it, and you wish you could take a picture of his pretty blush.

In spite of all the reasons you have not to take the helmet from him, you still do. And you don’t regret it.

You’ve never allowed yourself to regret the things that you’ve done because life is too short for regrets. But you definitely regret avoiding Wonwoo as long as you have, especially with the way he’s trailing his lips along your legs. Every wet kiss he leaves behind has your heart hammering and your cunt clenching in want.

Finally, Wonwoo gets to your inner thighs. His large hands spread you open with ease, eyes dark when he sees your wet pussy.

“Fuck.” His gaze fixed between your legs as if he's in a trance. “You’re already so wet.”

Your toes curl when his breath ghosts over your cunt. It sends delicious shivers throughout your body, and you have to stop yourself from bucking your hips into his face. But as you’re starting to learn, it seems like Wonwoo knows what you want before you even ask for it.

“You want my mouth, babydoll?”

Wonwoo nearly blows his load when you nod cutely, a needy mewl escaping your lips. “Please.”

He hooks your legs over his wide shoulders, thumbs spreading your folds open for his viewing pleasure. Wonwoo resists his ravenous desire for you long enough to toy with your pretty pussy before he actually tastes it—a luxury he hadn’t gotten to do last time. His rough hands are soon occupied with you, one hand pinching and flicking your sensitive clit while the other gently rubs your slippery folds.

“Fuck, baby.” You whine, biting down on your lower lip. “Feels so good.”

Your cunt is dripping with so much of your arousal that Wonwoo’s fingers are drenched as he slowly rubs circles against your aching bud. It’s throbbing and pulsing in need as his pace grows the tiniest bit quicker. You can’t even try to contain your moans as you stare down at your boyfriend.

Wonwoo has a huge smirk on his pink lips. You’re making such a mess on his fingers, and he just loves it. “You look so fucking cute when your squirm like this, babydoll.”

A needy whimper tumbles past your lips when he presses a gentle kiss to your throbbing clit. It pulses under the attention like it wants his mouth again. Wonwoo’s pupils are blown wide as he licks the remnants of your arousal off his lips. The addicting taste makes his control snap, and in the next second he smashes his face into your cunt like a starved man.

Your hips start move on their own as Wonwoo groans deeply into your drooling pussy. His mouth latches onto your clit, massaging the nub with his tongue. The movements are skilled and toe-curling, and you already feel like you’re fucked out.

“Wonwoo!” You cry out in absolute pleasure when he slips two fingers inside you.

His long fingers work your cunt open, curling up to rub the sensitive spot inside you that made you arch your back in ecstasy. Your mouth is dropped open in a silent min the longer Wonwoo fucks you with his tongue. He captures your juices with his tongue only to slobber them all over you again. Your hands grab ahold of his hair as he keeps moaning into your wet pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine with every one of his movements.

All it takes his his nose bumping against your clit as he licks around his pumping digits for you to come all over his face. Wonwoo groans into your creamy cunt, licking up every drop of your release.

“So fucking messy.” He grunts as his hand spreads your folds and exposes your heat to the cool air. His fingers trail down your cunt, tenderly rubbing along your sensitive lips. “Fuck, just look at that cream."

You can’t contain your needy moan when Wonwoo brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. He’s so fucking hot that you just want him to fuck you until you can’t think. Before you can get him to do exactly that, a heavy weight settles on your soppy cunt. His cock is hot and wet as it slides between your folds.

“You feel so good, angel.” Wonwoo groans as he thrusts forward, coating the underside of his dick with your arousal. “So fucking wet, just for me.”

The mouthwatering sight of your folds splitting open as he slides his cock between them makes him feel like he’s drunk. Maybe he is. Drunk on your pussy, that is. He only gets to enjoy the feeling for a second before you eagerly buck your hips against his.

“Let me ride you.”

It’s a miracle that Wonwoo doesn’t come all over your stomach at the words you moaned so desperately. He’s quick to get into position, leaning against his headboard as you hover above him. You look so eager as you straddle his lap, the love bites he littered all over your thighs giving him a sense of pride as he brushes his thumbs over them.

Wonwoo’s free hand reaches for your ass. He roughly kneads the skin before slapping it. You moan out in pleasure. Everything is almost too much for you to handle. The sight of him bellow you waiting patiently for you to fuck him like the first time is making your core throb with insatiable desire. His cock rests on his stomach, leaking with precum and waiting for you to sit on it.

The hottest part of it all is how Wonwoo’s looking at you with unadulterated desire and affection—like you’re a living goddess on top of him. Your hands are splayed over his muscular chest, and he just loves the feeling of them smoothing over his hot skin.

His hands move on their own, caressing your hips and mapping out every inch of your body with his rough hands. Wonwoo kisses any part of you he can reach, lips trailing from your neck down to your collarbones. His large hands slip back to your ass to deliver a sharp spank which makes you fall forward. Wonwoo skillfully captures one of your tits in his mouth, tongue immediately gliding over your hardened nipple.

“Nonu!” You cry out as your arms hook over his shoulders to keep him close, softly moaning as he switches between your tits, warm tongue swirling around each erect nub.

The cute little nickname makes his cock twitch. Fuck. You were going to drive him completely insane.

He gently nips at your sensitive bud before pulling away to look up at you. “You look so fucking pretty on top of me, babydoll.” He murmurs, forcing himself to stay still as you shift against his leaking tip.

His sweet praise is enough to make your pussy flutter. You mewl as he teasingly circles his cock against your pussy. The insistent nudges from his leaking head are making your head swim with pleasure. You’re so soaked at this point that he can feel your arousal start to stick to his skin.

Finally, you can’t resist any longer and slowly sink down on his cock. Your tight walls stretch wide, welcoming the bulbous head with just a bit of resistance. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’d already forgotten it felt to have such big and thick dick inside you. His cock isn’t even halfway inside yet, and you can nearly feel him in your stomach.

You sit back and slowly circle your hips, throwing your head back with a moan when his twitching tip nudges your walls repeatedly. Wonwoo feels like he’s gone and died to heaven with the filthy show you’re giving him of your soppy cunt. He curses quietly at the sight of your tight cunt clinging to his fat tip, nearly blowing his load at the erotic sight.

“Show me what you can do, pretty girl.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. With a wanton moan and your hands braced behind you, you slide all the way down. You whimper at the stretch, loving the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open. Mewls flutter from your lips, and it feels like the oxygen is slowly being forced out of your lungs.

Once he’s fully inside you, Wonwoo is sure that he’s never going to feel as good as he does now. His head is thrown back and his eyes roll to the back of his head. The feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him is absolute heaven. You share in his feeling as you moan loudly, completely full and stretched out as he grips your ass to steady you on his dick.

Wonwoo can’t stop looking at the fucked out look on your face while you’re busy staring down at where your pussy and his cock meet. You don’t notice how his pupils are blown out with lust at the sight of you impaled on his cock. His heart fluttering in his chest because fuck, you’re like a literal goddess on top of him.

“Shit, babydoll. You gotta move.” He sounds out of breath, almost needy with his plea.

Wonwoo looks so fucked out and pretty that your pussy tightens around him at the hot sight. That's all it takes for you to give him what he wants. You lift your hips before slamming your ass back down. His cock reaches so deep inside you that you throw you head back with a loud cry. It makes you ravenous, and you eagerly repeat your movements until your practically bouncing on his cock.

You lean towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, your pace faltering a bit when your lips meet his neck. As you litter his skin with wet kisses and gentle bites, you feel his cock throb and twitch inside you. It makes you think that you might actually get him to come first this time.

At least, until Wonwoo commits the tender act of pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder, removing a hand from your ass to gently thumb at your clit.

“Fuck, Nonu.” You whimper at the stimulation. “You’re so deep.”

“Missed having you on my cock, babydoll. You look so fucking pretty being split open like this.” His fingers trace your stretched hole before they slap your clit.

You moan wantonly when Wonwoo suddenly thrusts up, going impossibly deeper. That’s when you know he's about to ruin you in the way you’ve been craving. You shove your face into his neck, sucking and biting his skin so he can move you on his cock in the way he wants. Apparently, this isn’t enough for him, though.

Wonwoo grips your face, pressing his fingers into your cheeks. “Need to see your pretty face while I fuck you stupid.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s gripping your ass and grinding you on his cock. His fingertips press into your soft flesh as he lifts you and brings you down his length. You start bouncing to meeting his pumps. Broken mewls contrast with Wonwoo’s groans and mix in the the sound of lewd squelching and skin slapping. His abs tighten every time you come back down, thighs flexing beneath your ass.

Your swollen clit rubs against his pelvis with every thrust, and the feeling is quickly driving you insane. The knot in your stomach is coming undone fast, much faster than you want, but you feel too good to stop. Wonwoo isn’t doing much better. His mind is only full of you and the way your hot cunt is gripping his cock. The carnal look in his eye is locked to where you’re connected. He’s mesmerized with strings of arousal connecting his skin to your dripping folds.

“You look so fucking pretty when you’re bouncing on my cock—just like last time. Gonna let me pump your pretty pussy full again, babydoll?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry out mindlessly, a delicious ache blooming in your core. “Whatever you want!”

You can’t believe Wonwoo has the audacity to blush like you two aren’t literally fucking like animals. It makes you gush around him, orgasm so close that you can feel it in every inch of your body.

“God, baby. Keep fucking yourself stupid on my dick.” He growls as he fucks up into you harder, needing to see you come undone on his cock.

The leaking tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot over and over again until your eyes gloss over like you’re on the brink of tears. Wonwoo will never get enough of that fucked out face of yours, and it drives that insatiable desire in him to fuck you impossibly harder.

It takes only a few more deep thrusts for you to come on his cock with a loud moan. Your body shudders and shakes against him in absolute pleasure. Wonwoo’s movements don't stop. He fucks you through your orgasm and straight into overstimulation. But you can’t really care because it feels so fucking good. All you can do is cry out his name until he’s emptying his balls inside you.

“Y/N!” He groans into your ear as he pumps you full of his hot cum, thick ropes filling you to the brim until it’s leaking out and coating his heavy sack.

You’re gently grinding into each other as your mouths meet for a messy kiss. Wonwoo’s still-hard cock keeps twitching inside you, and you can’t help but groan into his mouth at the feeling.

“More.” You plead against his lips. “Want you to keep stuffing me full of your cum.”

“Fuck, angel.” Wonwoo pants out. “You’ll be the death of me.”

But if this was death, he’d gladly embrace it every time.

Wonwoo moves down the bed until his back meets the messy sheets. With his hands secured on your waist and the back of your neck, he pulls you down to his chest and forces you to take every inch of his throbbing cock. At this angle, he feels even thicker. Your mind goes blank as his fat dick spears into your tight hole relentlessly.

Wet noises fill the room, dancing in the air with your wanton cries. A white ring forms at the base of his cock, smearing down to his loaded sack. Wonwoo moans along with you, large hands sliding down your body to grip fistfuls of your ass. You let out a broken gasp when he grinds up and pulls you down, stuffing you to the brim only to do it again and again.

You’re panting and whimpering as his cock sinks in deep, plugging your dripping cunt. Tingles of ecstasy course through your quivering body with ever snap of his hips. You aren’t even moving anymore, it’s all Wonwoo. He’s fucking you on his cock like you're his personal fucktoy. The more you think about it like that, the more turned on you’re getting.

Your hot cunt tightens around his veiny cock. The drag of his veiny length stretching you out makes more of your juices coat his dick and spill down to his heavy balls. Wonwoo shudders when he feels how tight you keep getting. He can feel his own high quickly approaching.

“You gonna come for me again, babydoll? Soak my cock with your cream and make a mess all over me?” Wonwoo changes the angle of his hips as he speaks his lewd words. The tip of his cock slams into the soft spot inside you that makes you scream in pleasure. He keeps pounding into you from below without stopping, and you love every second of it.

“Fucking love your cock.” You babble mindlessly, any and every thought that’s not about the fat cock splitting you open being fucked out of you.

“Sweet little cunt is all mine now.” Wonwoo growls possessively. “Gonna be mine forever, right, baby?”

It’s all too much. His filthy yet sweet words combined with his fierce thrusts make you fall over that edge and into your orgasm, this one more powerful than the last. Your body erupts in flames as you squirt all over Wonwoo’s aching cock. He keeps you locked on his dick, balls slapping against your ass as he continues to pound into your gushing cunt.

“So fucking good.” Wonwoo groans gutturally before his hot cum floods your ruined cunt, painting your stretched out walls and claiming you in every sense of the word.

So much of his cum spills out and trickles down his pulsing cock, and you whimper when Wonwoo fucks it deeper into your pussy. You’re both sweaty and sticky, yet there’s still a burning ache in your core that seems like it can only be soothes by Wonwoo and his big cock.

“Want it again.” You moan into his ear, clenching down on his twitching dick. “Please.”

This is where you learn that the resident bad boy can never tell you no.

You barely process him flipping you over and manhandling you into the position he wants. Wonwoo presses your legs against your chest and start to pound into you with rough thrusts. He’s slow but brutish, slamming against your cervix every time he pushes in. Your cream soaks his thick cock and your inner thighs. It slowly drips down to your ass where his heavy balls slap against the tender skin.

“Fuck, babydoll. I’ll never get enough of this tight little pussy.” He sounds so gone, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust.

You cry out each time, the pleasure blooming into that delicious feeling in your stomach. Wonwoo’s words have you clenching around his dick, and he lets out a deep groan. He keeps moaning out praises about how good you are for him, but it’s hard to focus on his words when his thick cock is pummeling into you relentlessly.

You continuously gush around Wonwoo’s cock on the brink of yet another orgasm as you leave a stain around the base. Your pussy is stretched beyond belief, and it feels so fucking good that’s it’s making you delirious.

“I’m gonna have to stuff this pretty pussy full every day.” Wonwoo moans, loving how your cunt keeps spasming around his throbbing cock. He’s fantasised about this for so long, and now that he’s had you he’s completely addicted to you.

“Fuh-Fuck!” You wail, soaking his cock even more at his promise, leaving it dripping.

Wonwoo’s thrusts grow more powerful and ravenous. The pretty sounds you’re letting out every time he drives in and out of you is driving him insane. It’s not long for the harsh snapping of his hips to finally send you into your climax. This one is more somehow more intense than your previous one. Wonwoo groans loudly, watching as you squirt all over his cock.

Each time Wonwoo strokes your g-spot, another gush of liquid spurts from your core. “You’re so fucking hot, angel. Making a mess all over my cock.”

“Come inside me.” You beg with a loud moan, mind already so far gone to think about anything else but being fucked full of his hot cum.

Your lewd plea only drives his desire for you. Wonwoo feels his orgasm approaching with every rough thrust. His balls are aching to be emptied again, and he doesn’t hesitate to chase that euphoric feeling. Your pussy is practically begging him to fill you up with his seed, and he does exactly that. With one final shove, he bottoms out inside you and stills, cock twitching and throbbing in your hot cunt.

A huge load of cum pours into you, coating your walls and taking up the minimal space his cock hasn’t covered. Wonwoo slowly fucks it into you until you’re both whimpering from the overstimulation.

When he pulls out, his cum and your cream slowly leak out of your messy cunt. The fucked out pants you’re letting out are quickly stifled by Wonwoo's lips. You moan into his mouth as he slowly lets go of your legs and hooks them around his hips.

Pulling away, you barely register as he starts to tenderly kiss all over your body. You’re completely sated and too gone to acknowledge your surroundings even as Wonwoo gets up and brings back a warm towel. He gently cleans you up, whispering sweet praises that make you feel a different type of euphoria.

“Hold me, Nonu.” You finally manage to say when you realize he’s done cleaning the both of you up.

His smile is so pretty and precious as he goes to lay with you. The way he cradles you against his chest is comforting, and you know that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

[kyletogaz]

uni student kyle who’s in the library with his mates and won’t shut the hell up, despite you giving him warning after warning. the last straw for you was when a paper ball went soaring through the air, and instead of it hitting johnny like intended, you’re the one getting smacked in the side of the face with it.

“what the fuck is your problem!?” you nearly shriek, fed up and ready to knock him across his head with your textbook.

and kyle being the smartass that he is, just smirks and asks you if someone pissed in your weetabix this morning, before going back to his loud discussion about some stupid rugby match.

and poor you, you just sit there silently fuming because this is the library and you can’t react the way you want to. there are way too many people around and you don’t wanna get thrown out.

“just ignore him,” your friend says with a scowl directed towards kyle’s table.

you resume your studies and do your best to ignore johnny’s obnoxious laughter. you learn fuck all, because of the distracting chatter coming from the other table. it isn’t until kyle starts tapping his pen loudly against the surface of the table, that you decide you’ve had enough. you’re up on your feet and looming over them before your friend can stop you.

“hey asshole, have some respect. this is a library!” you hiss at him.

kyle doesn’t respond to your words, but he does make you emit a noise of disgust when he blows a kiss at you. and because you’re feeling very petty, you make to grab the kiss out of thin air, before you throw it to the ground and stomp on it, much to kyle’s dismay.

you try to stifle your laughter at the sound of johnny and the quiet one, simon, cackling at the look on kyle’s face. feeling satisfied, you shoot the trio a beaming smile before letting your friend drag you out of the library.

you miss the way kyle narrows his eyes at you while you’re on your way out the door. the nerve of you to destroy his air kisses.

he wonders briefly what you would do if he kissed you for real.

“only one way to find out.”

-

kyle’s masterlist | uni-verse masterlist | main masterlist

[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ TOUCH TANK ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ  Being a single mother after your ex broke things off after your daughter was born was hard, especially with your busy schedule. But with Daniel being there for every step of the way and becoming a father figure for your daughter, you wouldn’t change anything. That was until new fans began to attack you for being wwith him and how he deserves someone who isn’t “ruined”. But Daniel reassures you he wouldn’t be the one to change anything.

PAIRING ౨ৎ Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Mom!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ kids, self doubt and insecurity (turns to comfort), small hate from weirdos online, intoxication (nothing bad happens!! just a bit tipsy). (Reader is in late 20’s early 30’s!! No confirmed age)

A/N ౨ৎ i never wrote for danny before, and i’m trying to improve my other writing skills!

PS. “Touch Tank” is about finding a partner that loves you no matter what you look like and loves you for you 🩷

1K EVENT MASTERLIST

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, redbullracing and others!

y/n_l/nredbull fun never ends in miami! 🌞 congrats to my boys, @ landonorris for winning his first ever f1 race, and my baby girl for winning her first karting race! they grow up so fast 🥹

2,389 comments

username1 STOP IT NOT LITTLE VIVVY AND LANDO GETTING THEIR FIRST WINS BOTH IN MIAMI :((

username2 NOT BECAUSE THE WAY SHE WAS JUMPING UP AND DOWN IN THE RED BULL GARAGE SEEING LANDO WIN 😭🩷

danielricciardo ✔︎ Vivvy is all grown up now 🥲 so happy i got to watch her win her first karting race ❤️

→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ are we going to ignore how you tried like a baby when she held her little trophy? → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ video evidence??? 👀 → y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ sorry max, but i won’t expose the loml like this (i’ll show you it later) → danielricciardo ✔︎ this is still my replies you know 🙄 → y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ it wasn’t me it was vivvy that wrote that → danielricciardo ✔︎ yes because Vivvy knows that your password on your phone is the year we meet. → username3 daniel being there for Vivvy and y/n since her douche of a ex left her is my roman empire. → username4 no because the way he stepped up and basically said “you’re not gonna the father in her life? fine, i’ll be it then.”

danielricciardo ✔︎ …questioning those last few photos… 🤔

→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ why?? they are perfection 😞 → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ perfection is a bit of a over statement…

landonorris ✔︎ thanks mum 😋

→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ anything for my son ❤️ → username5 isn’t he like two years younger than you?? → landonorris ✔︎ no i was actually birthed from her daniel has proof → danielricciardo ✔︎ don’t drag me into this. → landonorris ✔︎ okay daddy 😏 → danielricciardo ✔︎ i’m reporting to hr i feel like i need a trusted adult → username6 daniel, you are a trusted adult??? bro is 34 😭 → danielricciardo ✔︎ @ y/n_l/nredbull help me i’m being harassed by people other than vivvy and lando

username7 hey!! i’m now to f1, can anyone explain how daniel, y/n, and vivvy came to be??

→ username8 y/n and daniel met when he was still in redbull and she’s (still) a engineer! they became really good friends while daniel was there and liked y/n but she was in a relationship with a asshole that i won’t spare the details of. He cheated on her multiple times and y/n decided to cut the ties with him once Y/N ended up having Genevieve (Vivvy/Viv). Daniel was there for Y/N and Vivvy and basically stepped up as a father figure to Vivvy growing up and they began dating and here we are now!! → username9 stop that is so sweet 😭😭 → username10 idk it just feels like she was using danny to get viv to have a father in her life → username11 okay @ username10 lets just forget that daniel liked y/n for YEARS and let’s just think that y/n has no job for FUCKING REDBULL and was begging daniel to take her and viv in!!

danielricciardo ✔︎

📍 Miami

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n_l/nredbull

danielricciardo not my best race, but happy to have my good luck charms here ❤️ (congrats to laaaaannnndooooo noooooorriiiiissss for his first win)

tagged; y/n_l/nredbull

2,864 comments

username12 daniel avacodo come back is coming guys dw

→ username13 that’s what we said last year 😞

username14 HELLO THE Y/N PHOTO???

username15 MOMMY? SORRY. MOMMY? SORRY. MOMMY?

landonorris ✔︎ my eyes have been blinded by the most unthinkable photo you can show of my adoptive mother.

→ danielricciardo ✔︎ if I can see how fine she is, so does the whole world 🥴

username16 girlie is smart AND fucking hot???

→ username17 milf fr → username18 i love women in stem 😩

username19 damn how did daniel bag such a fine woman

→ username20 fine woman?? homegirl has stretch marks and looks like she hasn’t had sleep in days. she’s lucky daniel posted a good photo of her → username21 he could choose anyone but he choose the woman that only picked him so her kid has a father 🤢 → username22 shaming a MOTHER who BIRTHED A CHILD for how she looks like and saying that she doesn’t lover her partner is the lowest of the lows.

TWITTER

Real Life

Miami, also known as the Magic City, is a place where the excitement never stops, and the nightlife is always lively. The city is filled with vibrant clubs where the music never seems to quiet down, and the clinking of glasses creates its own unique rhythm. In honor of the race in Miami and Lando's first win, the entire grid decided to gather at a well-established, extravagant club.

To be completely honest, nightclubs were never your cup of tea. The deafening noise, pulsating music, and perspiring individuals dancing into the early hours of the morning, not to mention the sticky floors from spilled drinks, never really appealed to you. When you were pregnant with Vivvy, being able to use the "I'm pregnant" excuse was a blessing, but now, you find yourself preparing to accompany the other drivers' girlfriends for a so-called "girls' night" at the same club. 

Lately, the comments people have been leaving on your feeds getting on your nerves. About being manipulative to Daniel for only using him for Vivvy to have a father in her life, to get that you are "too old" for him, even receiving comments that you don't deserve to be with him because you weren't "up to the standards of other men in Formula 1" which were repulsive, to say the least, but... now those thoughts began to consume your mind. As you glanced in the mirror, your eyes trailing over each curve of your body, the wrinkles of your face-

"What's all this?" a voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to see Daniel, wearing a smirk on his face as he leans against the bathroom door.

You let out a sigh, trying to hide the scowl you were giving yourself. "The girls managed to convince me to join them for the night. They kept insisting that I need to let loose and have some fun," you explain, adjusting your lip liner.

"Maybe they're right. You sound like a grandma," Daniel teases, and you raise an eyebrow in response. "I'm just saying that maybe it would be good for you. Relax, spend some time with the girls," he adds, offering a supportive perspective.

"What about you? Are you going to go and hang out with Max and the others?" You questioned, turning over to look at him, your eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones. Daniel shook his head.

"Not tonight. " He comments with a slight shake of his head, curls bouncing. "Besides, it's your time to have fun, and who'll look after Vivvy?"

"Danny, you aren't obligated to-"

"I know. But I'm the one that wants to spend time with her." Daniel reassures. You smile at him before turning back to the mirror. A slight frown forms on your lips the more you look at your reflection.

"What's with that frown?" Daniel's smile shifts as he sees you look over each crevasse of yourself as he walks over and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Can I ask you something?" You start, placing your hands over his, caressing your thumb over his hand.

"Anything."

"Why me? You... you have anyone you can choose from, Danny. Those models that come knocking at your door at any opportunity, the actresses, the singers, all these beautiful women that have it all and are stunning. And everyone says how perfect they are for you... so, why me?"

"Y/N... look at me," Daniel says, turning you to face him. "I chose you because-"

Before Daniel can respond, the doorbell rings and the bathroom door swings open, Vivvy excitedly rushes into the bathroom, socks sliding on the tile and eventually bumping into Daniel's leg. "Mommy! Aunt Kelly is here, and Miss Alexandra, and Miss Rebecca, are here! They're waiting for you! Oh, and they brought presents!" she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement, as Daniel picks her up, securing her in one arm.

"Well, it's rude not to say hello, right? Come on!" Daniel grins at her, using his other to ruffle her head. Vivvy let out a squeal along with a "Danny! Stop it!" leaving her lips with some giggles. You quickly put on some lipgloss before rushing out to meet everyone else.

"Guys, you didn't have to get anything-" You start as Vivvy reaches out for the gift from Rebecca, but she quickly shoots it down.

"Oh please Y/N, it's nothing! Besides, we love Vivvy! It's hard to not get anything for her when she looks at us with those big eyes..." Rebecca explained, beaming from ear to ear as she fixed Vivvy's hair after being messed up by Daniel. You exhaled, Rebecca's bright expression beginning to make your own eyes crinkle.

"Alright, Danny, no sweets before bed, be sure she brushes her teeth, and-"

"Make sure she gets in bed before 8:45. I know, I know. It's nothing new." Daniel replies, rolling his amber eyes in a joking manner. The girls begin saying goodbye, stepping back outside the door, but Daniel grabs your hand making you pause. 

"We'll talk about that question later. Okay?" He says, making you blink. "Now go have fun."

You quickly give Vivvy and Daniel a kiss, the door closing.

"Well, Vivvy, it's just you and me now. Let's get this movie night started."

"Yay!"

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

"Hey, Danny?" Vivvy's voice interrupts Daniel as they both sit on the couch, movie playing in the background.

"Yes, Vivvy?" Daniel turns to look at her, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"Do you love Mommy and me?" Vivvy's innocent question catches Daniel off guard, but the shock in his eyes soon turn to tenderness as he takes a moment to formulate his response.

"Of course, I love you both very much," Daniel replies, his voice filled with sincerity and love. "You and your mommy mean the world to me." Vivvy smiles contentedly, snuggling into her blanket as she listens to Daniel's reassuring words.

“Did i ever tell you on how we met?” He questions, moving her little strands of hair away from her face.

“A lot.” Vivvy mumbles, voice muffled from the soft material she’s clinging to.

“Well, how about I start from the very beginning?”

“Not again…”

IMESSAGES

Real Life

As the night wore on, the club's vibrant atmosphere seemed to seep into your very bones. Despite your initial reluctance, the pulsating music and the infectious energy of the girls pulled you in. Kelly, Alexandra, and Rebecca kept you on the dance floor, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. Drinks were shared, stories exchanged, and for a few hours, you forgot all about the comments and the insecurities that had been weighing you down.

But now, as you stumbled through the front door of your home, the effects of the night were starting to catch up with you. The room swaying slightly, and you had to steady yourself against the wall. The house was quiet, except for the soft hum of the television coming from the living room. You made your way toward the sound, the familiar warmth of the home drawing you in.

Daniel was on the couch, a sleeping Vivvy curled up next to him, her little head resting on his lap. He looked up as you entered, a gentle smile spreading across his face.

"Hey, there you are," he said softly, careful not to wake Vivvy. "Did you have fun?"

You nodded, the room still spinning a bit. "Yeah, I did. But I think I might have had one too many drinks." You giggled, trying to keep your balance as you approached the couch.

Daniel chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sounds like a successful girls' night."

You plopped down next to him, your head resting on his shoulder. "It was. But... Danny, can I ask you something?" Your voice unsteady slightly, due to the mix of alcohol and lingering doubt.

"Of course," he replied, turning to face you, his expression becoming serious as he sensed the change in your tone.

You took a deep breath, the question that had been haunting you slipping out before you could stop it. "Do you really love me? Even though I have Vivvy and... I'm not as young or as glamorous as those other women you could be with?"

Daniel's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. "Y/N, I love you more than anything. And Vivvy... she's not just your daughter, she's our daughter. You two are my family."

"But all those people say—" you started, but Daniel cut you off with a gentle kiss, silencing your doubts.

"Don't listen to them," he whispered against your lips. "They don't know us. They don't know how much you mean to me, how much Vivvy means to me. You're the one I chose, and I wouldn't trade you for anyone in the world."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were tears of relief and happiness. "Thank you, Danny. I needed to hear that."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "Anytime. Now, how about we get you to bed?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. As Daniel helped you up and guided you to the bedroom, you glanced back at the couch where Vivvy was still sound asleep. Your heart swelled with love and gratitude.

"Goodnight, Vivvy," you whispered softly.

Daniel smiled as he tucked you into bed, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Goodnight, Viv," he said, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before leaving to get Vivvy into her own bed.

As you drifted off to sleep, the lingering doubts and insecurities melted away, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you were exactly where you were meant to be – in the arms of the man who loved you and the family you had built together.

[sailorrhansol]

Storm Breaker | (l.jh)

❀ Pairing: Jaeger Pilot!Lee Jihoon x Jaeger Pilot! f.reader  

❀ Summary: It’s a known fact Lee Jihoon is one of the best pilots the jaeger Program has. The only problem? He can’t keep a co-pilot to save his life. He thinks you’ll just be another Ranger in the rotation, but you are an unpleasant surprise. 

❀ Word Count: 23,373

❀ Genre: Pacific Rim AU, Forced Proximity, Annoyed to Lovers

❀ Type: Smut, Angst

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Jihoon is a bit of an asshole, action/fighting scenes, brief descriptions of blood, mentions of offscreen deaths, brief mentions of sick parents, brief mention of having no family, sexual tension, explicit language, A Lot of Pacific Rim Techincal Terms But They’re Explained, terrible humor, a hint of angst, brief depictions of Jihoon being insecure about his childhood, sexually explicit content including nipple play, biting, a total of one (1) spank, oral (f. receiving), the slightest hint of voyeurism mentioned, unprotected sex (don’t do this), multiple orgasms, a lot of spit and cum, cum eating, vaginal fingering, a lot of biting, Jihoon is emotionally constipated and then lets it all out lmfaoooo

❀ A/N: HERE SHE IS. This story takes place in the Pacific Rim universe but you definitely do not have to watch the movie to enjoy it - I’m pretty sure I explain everything in terms of how it works but if something is confusing, please tell me and I will adjust! I hope you enjoy this Jihoon who has been the apple of my eye for like almost three months now. STAY TUNED FOR MY SECOND FIC IN THIS UNIVERSE SHARING CHAN AND WYLIE'S STORY :)

❀ A/N 2: SPECIAL THANKS TO @daechwitatamic for not only collaborating with me on our little corner of the internet, but beta reading this giant piece and constantly motivating me while writing it. I could not be anywhere without you I love u 

❀ Also in this Universe: Cherry Bomb by @daechwitatamic

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀

Jihoon doesn’t flinch when Xander throws his helmet against the wall. The crash is loud, but the reinforced material doesn’t crack under the force of the concrete. It clatters to the floor while Jihoon tucks his helmet under his right arm. Sweat drips down the side of his neck and down his back, but he can’t get to it while in his Drivesuit. 

Just add it to his list of inconveniences.  

Everyone in the room freezes as Xander storms toward the command center and right for the Marshall in charge, his steps thunderous against the metal floor. Instead of following him, Jihoon leans against the doorframe, watching the way his co-pilot rages, imagining steam coming out of his ears. 

“I can’t fucking pilot with him,” Xander screams, stabbing an accusatory finger in Jihoon’s direction. “I refuse to do it. Reassign me.” 

Eyes drift toward Jihoon. He ignores them, watching as Xander stops at the command post where both the Marshall and the LOCCENT Mission Controller who just walked them through their kaiju fight stand. Both of them stare at Xander, who is red in the face, chest heaving. 

It’s a bit of an overreaction, especially for a team who just dispatched a Category Four kaiju. But it doesn’t matter. Xander isn’t Jihoon’s first co-pilot and he won’t be his last. They rarely last long, a cycle of Rangers who cannot stand to work with him for more than a few fights. Jihoon examines the scratches on his suit, thinking that he needs to get it buffed while the Marshall deliberates how to answer Xander’s demands. 

“Ranger-” 

Xander cuts off the Marshall. Bold, if you ask Jihoon. “I’ll leave the fucking program if that’s what I have to do. I won’t pilot with him anymore, I don’t care that we can drift. He won’t trust me, he won’t give up the reins and he refuses to let me in. He’s arrogant and pig headed!”

“Pig headed,” Jihoon mutters to himself. “That’s new.” 

The Marshall sighs heavily, eyes drifting toward Jihoon, who is still leaning against the doorframe. He lifts a single shoulder in a shrug, unsure what the Marshall expected. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the Marshall asks Xander to follow him, gesturing toward the door at the back of the command center that leads into offices. 

Silence blankets the room at their departure. At least, as silent as it can get in the jaeger hub. The beeping of machinery and radar is a constant sound under the hum of machinery and the awkward cough of one of the workers in the room. Jihoon raises his brows as if to ask someone to say something. No one does and he nods, dismissing himself. 

Laughter trails up the stairs followed by loud steps. He looks down to see Chan and Wylie coming up the stairwell, cheeks flushed and hairlines sweaty from their battle with Dreadfury only minutes earlier. Their team had the assist on the kill, and though they hadn’t landed the final blow, their constant offense had given Jihoon and his partner the time they needed to figure out how to move in. 

Chan sees Jihoon and raises a questioning brow, pausing in the stairs. “Lose your co-pilot?” he asks, looking Jihoon up and down. 

“How’d you guess?” 

“Standard,” Chan and Wylie say at the same time. 

They do that a lot, so in sync that despite the fact that they’re two different people, sometimes Jihoon feels like he’s talking to one. Wylie is a little shorter than Chan, but just as furious in personality and attitude. She leans against Chan, cocking her head to the side. It’s not a conscious movement but an instinct, her body naturally attaching to her co-pilot’s. Jihoon knows that level of closeness well. 

“Think they’ll just finally get rid of you?”

“Nope.” 

“Standard,” they both say in unison again. It’s Chan who says, “Must be nice to get away with murder, Woozi.” He continues up the stairs, clapping Jihoon on the shoulder as he goes. Wylie trails behind him, shooting Jihoon a grin. “One day you’re gonna end up on your ass.” 

“That’s fine. You’ll both take me in, right?” 

Both of their voices meld as they howl in laughter, passing him and going into the command center, yelling “Nope!” 

Despite their teasing, Jihoon smiles. He’s known the pair for years and despite their ability to get under his skin, he’s fond of them. They’re good jaeger pilots, scrappy as they come and vicious in the field. Unlike Jihoon, they’ve piloted their jaeger together from the start, syncing like twin flames and sticking to one another. 

It helps that they grew up together, of course. And that they’re in a relationship, one heart, one soul. 

Sighing, Jihoon jogs down the rest of the stairs, tired and sore. He needs a shower, food and a fucking nap. He and Xander had been pulling extra shifts, the kaiju activity having increased with the bad weather. He suspects it was also in an attempt to get Jihoon to bond with Xander more and get him to open up, but that hadn’t happened.

That’s the problem with piloting with Jihoon. The more time people spend with him, the less they can stomach the way he resists them in the mental bridge that connects co-pilots. It isn’t that he’s afraid for them to see what’s in his head - they haven’t earned a right to his privacy.

Privacy is important to him. 

Murmurs ripple through the cafeteria as he enters, rolling his head to the side to try and workout the kink that is formed there. He glances around and fights the urge to roll his eyes. Word spreads fast when you’re secluded in the Shatterdome with nothing but fucking ocean and giant monsters around you. 

As usual, he ignores the stares and whispering. He catches Soonyoung’s eye from afar and shrugs when his friend gives him a questioning glance, earning an eye roll. Not for the first time, Jihoon finds himself wondering why someone like Soonyoung or Wonwoo can’t be his partner. 

Drift compatibility. 

He knows that’s the answer, but he’ll never stop wishing that pairing jaeger pilots together was a little easier. So many factors go into making people drift compatible and yet he’s yet to find a partner he can tolerate - or tolerate him in return. If it were as easy as picking his friends, he’d have settled with someone long ago. 

Brushing away the thought, he heads to his room. It doesn’t matter what he wants. If wishes were horses, everyone would be a rider. He’s pretty sure that one of his former co-pilots had said that - in regard to Jihoon being impossible to work with, of course. 

The dark and quiet of his room brings the peace Jihoon craves. He feels the tension melt from his shoulders. He suddenly realizes how tired he is, feeling like parchment stretched too thin over a rough surface. He peels himself out of his clothes methodically, welcoming the chill of the room against his sweaty skin. 

He trails to the shower, tossing his clothes in the hamper as he does. Leaving the lights on so it’s only the dull orange glow over his bed, he turns on the shower as hot as it will go. It takes a second, but soon steam is filling the room, choking him as he slides under the stream of water, sighing as the heat of it burns away any lingering frustration for the day. 

Tomorrow, he’ll have a new partner. It’s a simple fact and a routine he is familiar with. That’s fine with him - they can keep assigning people to him until they find someone competent. Jihoon isn’t going anywhere. 

He has nowhere else to go anyway. 

-

“I need you to do me a favor,” Kira says before you can finish stepping out of the jaeger. The Marshall of the Sydney Shatterdome looks deadly serious. You scoff under the helmet, reaching up to unclasp it and shuck it off. Fresh air fills your lungs. It’s hot and tastes like metal in the jaeger bay, but it’s familiar. “And I need an answer quickly.”

“Ever heard of foreplay?” you grunt, helping Maya out of the giant mech behind you. She shoots you a thankful grin, taking off her helmet. Her face is flushed pink, hairline sweaty. “You really just dive in dry, huh?” 

“You know my cousin is a Marshall of a Shatterdome overseas?” 

You pause. “Yeah.” 

“They’re asking for a skilled pilot to pair with one of their Rangers. They sent over the drift profile and you’re the only pilot we have that’s a match.” You frown and she holds out a hand to stop your protest, a crease in her mouth. “Just look over the report and the profile I sent you, alright?” 

“I mean, my answer is no. I’m fine here.”

“You are. You’re one of our best teams,” Kira says earnestly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Maya. “But respectfully, your value is needed elsewhere. There isn’t enough activity here to keep a veteran of your status on shift, Blue.”

You feel a flicker of uncertainty. Rarely does Kira use your nickname. It’s too familiar for a military commander of her status, and though you’ve considered her a friend for years, she never uses your nickname on shift. Unless she really needs something from you.  

Licking your lips, you hesitate to answer. You don’t want to say she’s right about your skillset and risk insulting your coworkers and other pilots in the jaeger Program, but it’s an accurate statement. The Shatterdome you report to is old - one of the first built in the beginning. But kaiju activity is mostly unpredictable, shifting with the tides. You barely get them once a month anymore, and there are too many pilots who need the practice.

You don’t. 

You glance at Maya and she offers a soft smile. “Hey, I didn’t think you’d be my co-pilot forever. Hoped, maybe. But I didn't expect it.”

“Oh come on, I’m with you for life, Maya.” 

“Romantic.” Maya’s gaze softens. “Marshall has a point, though. We’re a little… slow here.” 

It makes a pang go through your heart. Maya has been your co-pilot since your mother passed away, and though you didn’t go through the Ranger training program with her, she’s the perfect balance to you. You like having her around, and the thought of changing pilots just because someone wants your experience is… unideal. 

Sensing your unease, Maya reaches out and touches your forearm, squeezing over the metal of your Drivesuit. Her smile is soft. Knowing. Like she knew that being in the drift with you wasn’t forever, and she’s already saying bye. 

“Look,” Kira sighs, bringing your attention back to her. “My cousin really needs a skilled pilot and someone who is a leader and isn’t afraid of working with veteran pilots. They get more activity, and they need someone sharp. Skilled. Strong.” 

“I mean, I’ll look over the papers.” 

“Thank you.” She steps away. “I need to know by the end of the day, though.”

“Jesus Christ, Marshall. End of the day is in like two hours.”

Her smile is firm. “I know.” 

Waving her off, you leave your jaeger behind, Maya trailing after you. She peppers you with encouragement as you walk, steps heavy on the metal catwalk. You don’t respond right away, thoughts trying to catch up with being thrown an offer immediately after slamming a monster back into the depth of the ocean just minutes ago. 

You don’t have to ask why you. Drift compatibility alone is important enough to move jaeger pilots around the world from Shatterdome to Shatterdome in order to make the best pairs possible. There aren’t a ton of pilots - especially among the younger ones - at your base that are compatible with you.

Stubborn, Kira had always said. Finding an equally dominant co-pilot that meshes with you is difficult. You suspect that if you were not extremely talented at what you do and a veteran at your base, they might have moved you to an advisory position a long time ago.

Advising is not for you, though. The grind of metal and the heat of the fight is where you thrive, letting your mind go empty, entirely driven by instinct. Instinct was the reason you were so good at fighting kaiju. Your mom had always said you had the instinct of a warrior, and after putting down as many monsters to protect humanity’s coasts, you had to agree. 

Maya immediately goes to the shower once you reach your shared room. You dive onto the bottom bunk, snatching the tablet sitting on your night stand. Your eyes squint from the brightness, sensitive in the dim room. Clicking through your emails, you find the reporting and profile from Kira and open it, information unfurling before you. 

“Huh,” You muse, raising your brows as Lee Jihoon appears on your screen. “I know your name.” 

His profile is impeccable - and so is his skill. Chewing on your lip, you throw yourself onto your cot and flip through all of the materials provided on your potential co-pilot. Veteran Ranger. Highly skilled in combat. Top of his class in the academy. 

Clicking on the attachments, you watch the attached videos. There’s clips from his fights in and out of the suit. You find yourself hypnotized by his fighting style. There is a beauty to it, but it’s absolutely lethal. Efficient. There are no extra flourishes, no showmanship. Lee Jihoon fights to kill. 

“So why do you need me?” you mutter to yourself, pulling up his past partners. The list is extensive, stretching back to multiple co-pilots over weeks at a time. “Jesus christ. You do not play nice.”

He must not, at least. Half of the pilots assigned to him are only barely compatible. You know it takes more than just matching fight styles, but based on the history glowing at you from the screen, Jihoon’s Marshall was doing anything they could to keep him, even if it meant pairing him with someone who was scoring as low as 54% compatible. 

Pulling up your side-by-side analysis, you whistle. 98% was a good fucking number. You’d only ever had 90% with your mom, and she was genetically linked to you. Still, with as many partners as Jihoon has had in the past year alone, you don’t know that it’s worth it, even if his base has more kaiju activity and looks to be in need of veteran fighters.

Sighing, you close the tablet and throw it on the pillow. Resting your head against the metal wall, you close your eyes, thinking. You’re happy where you’re at. You’re a leader here, and you like Maya as your partner. She’s young and eager to learn - and you like your jaeger. Shadow Stalker is a good suit, though a little older. 

Biting your lip, you grab the tablet again, opening the jaeger details on Jihoon’s profile. Newer model. Built for endurance. Equipped with multiple blades, suited for pilots who prefer sword-style fighting. She’s painted gray-blue like the deepest part of a storm - blue like your mother’s first jaeger, which makes you grin. 

Storm Breaker. It’s a good name for a jaeger and it matches the profile. She’s built to withstand the brutal waves of the deep ocean and the onslaught of a high-category kaiju. Your interest is piqued, curious about Storm Breaker and her brutal pilot. 

Closing the tablet again, you stare into the distance, thinking. “What’s your deal, Lee Jihoon?” 

-

Jihoon hates sparring with Chan almost as much as he hates sparring with Wylie. Chan doesn’t scratch at Jihoon like a feral cat like Wylie might, but he does bite, which is exactly what he does when he can’t get out of Jihoon’s hold. 

“You fucker,” Jihoon hisses, letting him go. Chan slips out of Jihoon’s grasp and rolls to his feet a few feet away, crouched low and ready to go again. Despite years of being a jaeger pilot, Chan nor his co-pilot have fallen out of their scrapy upbringings, fighting like two street orphans. “What, are you going to bite a kaiju if you can?” 

“Of course not. I just don’t like losing to you.”

“Too bad.” Jihoon straightens and lifts his fists, planting his feet firmly. Sweat slicks the back of his neck, wispy pieces of hair escaping his hair tie and sticking to damp skin. “No more biting.” 

“No promises.” 

Somewhere behind him, Jihoon hears Minghao shriek. “She bit me!”

Scratch that. Maybe Wylie does bite. 

Chan comes at Jihoon again. He’s a good fighter and he’s ruthless. It’s one of Jihoon’s favorite things about him. But there’s always an opening, always a moment between fluid movements that reveals itself that Jihoon can take advantage of. 

He does exactly that, going on the defense, watching and waiting for the moment. When it reveals itself, Jihoon strikes lightning fast, catching Chan in the chest hard and taking him down to the ground. Jihoon feels the wind leave Chan’s lungs as he coughs hard, head smacking the mat. 

Behind them, Jihoon hears the collective wince. Chan is dazed for a second, groaning underneath Jihoon’s hand pressed to his chest. He can feel the hammering of Chan’s heart, a little faster than his own. When it’s clear Chan isn’t going to claw at him, Jihoon stands and offers him a hand.

With a heaving sigh, Chan takes it. Jihoon claps him on the back, grinning as Chan tries to catch his breath, rubbing the back of his head. “That hurt.”

“Oops.” Chan looks over Jihoon’s shoulder and grins, causing him to turn around and follow the younger’s gaze. Wylie sweeps her feet under Mingho’s, knocking him to the mat. She pounces like a creature from hell before he can react, pinning him down. “Well, at least one of us didn’t get our ass beat today.” 

“Stop biting, Dino,” Jihoon says as they trail off the mat, a warning. Chan has the decency to look chagrined, bowing slightly to his superior. Jihoon adores the kid, but he will not serve as a chew toy. 

Grabbing a water, Jihoon sits down on the floor with Seungkwan, Soonyoung and Seokmin as Junhui and Minghao trade places. Minghao is nursing a scratch on his neck from Wylie’s nails, muttering about her being a demon straight from hell as he sits. Wylie gives her new opponent a wicked grin, taking her place on the mat and beckoning Junhui toward her. Jihoon shakes his head, gulping down water and leaning back on his hands. 

“Fresh blood,” Soonyoung notes, gesturing toward the training room entrance as the Marshall leads a group of people in. “They’re holding trials for the two new mark fives tomorrow. Wanna go?” 

“No.” 

Soonyoung laughs. “Come on, they might be looking for another partner for you too.”

“Don’t care.” 

“You can’t keep going through partners, man.”

Jihoon doesn’t react, eyes scanning the group of cadets. They all look fresh-faced and in awe as they’re led around the mats, wide eyes glued to the sparring pilots as they go. His eyes settle on you, though, pausing. 

You don’t have the same awestruck wonder as the other cadets, trailing behind them as your eyes scan the structure, the fighters and the equipment around you. Calculating. Critical. You’re a little older than the other cadets too - not in looks but in aura, chin lifted, gaze sharp. Experienced. 

Soonyoung follows Jihoon’s line of sight and straightens. “Woah. Who is that?” 

“My new drift partner,” Seokmin sighs dreamily. Soonyoung and Seungkwan smack him at the same time, offended. They’re one of the few triple pilot groups, operating a massive piece of machinery made for slaughtering and hammering down on high-grade kaiju. “What? Look at her!” 

“You shouldn’t fuck your co-pilot,” Seungkwan mutters. “Look what happened to Seungcheol and Cherry. She’s still at that training facility in Alaska. Didn’t come back after their drift glitched.” 

A collective hum goes through them. All of them recall that situation, but no one says a thing. The weight of Cherry’s absence sits heavy on them - even Jihoon misses her a little. 

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung notes cryptically, eyeing Wylie. She’s managed to get Junhui off his feet, slamming him down with a rattle of mat and springs, pinning him with a savage growl. Wylie Coyote indeed, Jihoon thinks, smirking. “Seems to work for Wylie just fine. God, look at Chan, he literally has heart eyes. Disgusting.” 

It’s true. The pilot in question sits at the edge of the mat, elbows resting on top of his knees as he watches his girlfriend with his mouth open, lips upturned a little. His eyes are dazed, focused on Wylie as she holds onto a thrashing Junhui. There’s so much love in his gaze that Jihoon averts his eyes, worried he’s observing something sacred and private.  

“Not everyone is like them,” Seungkwan shoots back. “They share a brain cell.” 

“We’re literally drift partners. We basically do the same thing.” 

“And yet I don’t want to fuck you, Hoshi.” 

Soonyoung cocks his head to the side. “You know, that brings up a valid question-”

“No,” the other three say at the same time, cutting him off before he can get going. 

Still, Seungkwan’s point is valid. The drift is something that is so intimate that it isn’t uncommon for copilots to have a romance or some sort of tension. The neural handshake makes you become one, unable to hide anything. It is inviting someone else into your head to see everything you see, everything you have seen. Memories, feelings, thoughts - nothing is yours anymore. 

Jihoon hides it all from his co-pilots. He knows he’s not supposed to - openness and being honest and true with your partner makes for a better drift. But the intimacy of the connection makes him uncomfortable, and he’s not ready for anyone to see him - really see him. 

So he hides in the drift. Knows how to bring nothing to it, to give only the parts of himself he has to in order for his partner to fight alongside him. Jihoon gives nothing more. And they don’t need it, frankly. 

The Marshall leads the new recruits back out of the room. He watches you go, wondering what your deal is. As though you sense his eyes on you, your eyes flicker over to his, catching his gaze. He’s unsure why, but he pauses, the room stilling for a split second. Then you’re grinning wickedly, vanishing from the room. 

He brushes it off and turns his eyes back to his friends. 

-

Lee Jihoon is prettier in person. You don’t know why it’s the first thing you notice as you watch him walk across the training center. He’s dressed in fitted cargo pants and a racing jacket over a t-shirt, emphasizing his broad shoulders. His hair is bleached and pinned into a low bun, some of his bangs hanging in his dark eyes. He doesn't notice you watching him as he nears an empty mat, shedding the jacket. 

He’s compact. Small, but toned, muscles rippling as he begins to go through a series of stretches. You know he’s a good fighter from your observations the day before. Everything about him screams efficiency. You can’t put your thumb on it, but the way he carries himself is methodical.

Lee Jihoon is the perfect jaeger pilot on paper. 

It’s the partners that he has a problem with. He’s had eight co-pilots in the last year alone, which is more than anyone has the right to. Before that, he managed to keep someone for six months before they requested a transfer to a different location. 

You sense Jihoon’s gaze, realizing he’s picked up on your staring. His expression is as neutral as it was yesterday, as though he has zero interest in whoever you are. He must not - he turns away and gets back to what he was doing, the moment passing without fanfare. 

Everyone in the room is paired with their pilots, going through fight sequences. You watch the different pairs, noting those who exhibit high-drift compatibility and others who are still learning. You note how many talented pilots this base has, likely due to the high activity. 

As though the thought summons the very creatures from the depths of the ocean, an alarm goes off. You don’t flinch, used to the kaiju alert system. It had gone off the day before, though. You look up at the screen as it flashes the names of the pilots on duty, calling them to report to the drop bridge. 

A few shouts of good luck draw your attention to the center of the room where two of the younger pilots head out. You’d seen them sparring earlier, so in time with one another that you weren’t sure where one began and one ended. The man looks at the girl and gives her a smile so full of love that you look away, startled at its intensity. 

While romantic connections between pilots aren’t totally uncommon, you’re not used to it. Most of the Rangers at your old base were family members and childhood friends, connection deep and intimate but not like that. You wonder what it must be like, if it makes love any easier to be that deeply connected. 

“So are you my new co-pilot?” a soft voice startles you and you turn to see that Jihoon has snuck up on you. His eyes are darker in person, entirely consuming as he looks down at you with a cocked head. His blonde hair sticks to his forehead, pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat. “You must be, right?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re not a cadet. And you’ve been watching me for the better part of two hours.” 

You shrug. “You can learn a lot from watching veterans.” 

“You could at least offer to spar to see if we’re any good together.”

“You mean to see if I’m good enough for you.” He lifts a shoulder, not disagreeing with you. Wiping your palms on your knees, you stand up. Even though he’s small, you’re still a little shorter than him, nearly eye level. You stick your hand out, giving him your name. “But you can call me Blue.”

Instead of taking your hand, he nods and turns on his heel, striding back to the mat he occupied earlier. You stand and stare at the newly vacated spot, hand held out in the air. “Alright,” you mutter to yourself, dropping your hand and going after him. 

Eyes follow you. You can feel them as you trail after him, watching his smooth, even gait. Everything about Jihoon is refined and controlled, even down to the minute expressions as he steps onto the mat and turns to face you. Sliding your shoes off, you join him, feeling the spring beneath your step and the softness of the floor.

Jihoon heads to a rack of bo staffs, picking one up and tossing it to you. You snatch it, spinning it lightly to test the weight. The balance is near perfect, a slight weight to the left side. You adjust accordingly, grip firm. Jihoon does the same, spinning his staff and rolling his shoulders.

“Who were those pilots called to make the drop?” you ask, conversational. 

“Dino and Wylie.” 

“Good pilots?” 

He takes his stance. “Excellent. They’re terrors. It won’t be a problem for them. Are you right handed or left handed?”

“Ambidextrous.”

“Good.” 

You don’t know why, but his assessing gaze bothers you suddenly. Like you know that even though you know you’re an excellent fighter, it still won’t be enough for him. The thought that you’ve lost before you even begun pricks a nerve and you strike first. 

It’s immediately obvious why you’re compatible. Jihoon knows your next move before you know what it is. You feel him move like an instinct, imagining his attack and defense before it happens. It isn’t a fight, but a dialogue, two skilled fighters communicating in a pattern only familiar to them. 

Sweat slicks the back of your neck and back. You barely register it, losing yourself in the rhythm of Jihoon’s movements. The sound of the training gym fades to the background and you barely hear the crack of your staffs as they meet over and over again. You hardly see him, vision fading to a narrow point of instinct.

This is how you fight. Muscle memory, driven by intuition.

Your intuition tells you that you’re perfectly matched, fighting style so similar that it’s hard to get a hit in - you won’t get a hit in, too in sync with him to out maneuver him. 

So you deviate. 

Instead of dodging a smack to the ribs, you let him hit you. His surprise is so apparent that he breaks his concentration and you strike, foot sweeping behind his ankle and pulling, knocking him from his feet. Jihoon goes down hard, breath leaving his lungs as you pounce, pinning him.

For a second, it’s just the two of you. His heart pounds, chest heaving in time with yours. Even your breaths are evenly matched, a tempo that is deeper than most human understanding. Drift compatible. You feel it the same way you feel the spark of his skin even through the fabric of his shirt. You’re so aware of it that you don’t hear what he says at first, his mouth moving but no sounds coming out.

“What?” 

“That doesn’t count,” he asserts. “I hit you first. The fight is over after that.”

You frown. “The fight doesn’t end until there’s a killing blow. A swipe to the ribs wouldn’t do it.”

“That isn’t how that works.” 

“There are no rules of engagement in the ocean.” 

He scowls. “There are basic principles to fighting. You lose when you get hit first.”

“Do you lose when a kaiju hits you first? Or do you keep fighting?” 

Jihoon huffs underneath you, shaking his head. You’ve still got him pinned, your palm pressed to his chest and your knee planted in his stomach. He glances away from you and you become aware that everyone has stopped to watch the two of you spar.

And you’re still on top of him. 

Clearing your throat, you climb off of him smoothly. You offer a hand to help him up but he doesn’t take it, getting up on his own. He’s flushed, cheeks tinged peak and mouth twisted in frustration. You watch him as he gives the room around you a cutting glance, making everyone immediately turn back to what they were doing. 

Jihoon puts his staff back and you watch him. He looks minorly irritated on the surface, but you can see it rippling deeper than that. He’s unsettled and it makes you grin. 

“This won’t work,” Jihoon says as he turns back to you, crossing his arms over his chest. You ignore the way his biceps flex and blink at him in confusion. “You can’t be my partner.”

“What? We’re compatible. That was one of the best fighting flows I’ve ever had.”

“We’re too different in principle.” 

That gets a frown from you. “I don’t think so at all. You let your instinct guide you. So do I.” 

“You deviate.” 

“I let the natural dialogue of the fight lead me.”

You let silence fall between you. You can see why so many other pilots had issues with him. Jihoon approaches every statement as though it is the absolute truth, a fact that cannot be disproven. He speaks with the authority of someone who knows he’s right often, and frequently goes unchallenged.

Instead of letting him get a rise out of you, you switch topics. “Are you hungry?”

He pauses. “What?” 

“What part of the question didn’t you understand? Are you hungry?”

Jihoon is perplexed. You’re sure that by now, mostly people have visibly grown upset with the combative dialogue. You don’t mind much, watching as he thinks on your question. You take the opportunity to appreciate the gentle slope of his nose up close, the delicate curve of his mouth, the contrast of feminine and masculine features that make an exquisite face. 

Then Jihoon unfolds his arms and walks past you. You turn to follow him but he says over his shoulder, “I don’t want to have lunch with you. We’re not friends.” 

There’s no room for argument in the way that he says it. You watch him as he leaves, never once turning back. 

-

You are vexing. 

There isn’t another word to describe you. Jihoon hasn’t the slightest idea how you’ve managed to so thoroughly irritate him at your first encounter, but he can’t stop thinking about how frustrated he is when he slams his tray down on the table. 

It’s a little early for lunch, mostly engineers and staff going on shift soon filling the room to eat quickly. The giant clock above the entryway to the cafeteria resets and Jihoon relaxes a little, confirming that Chan and Wylie are fine. He knew they would be - a Category Two kaiju is nothing for a pair like them.

Jihoon finds himself thinking of you. Of what you must be able to do in a jaeger.

Curious, Jihoon looks up your name. It rings a bell - you were pretty renowned at your homebase. Clicking through videos, he sets his phone on the table as he eats, eyes glued to the screen. Your drops are easily accessible to him, clicking through them as he eats. 

There is something hypnotizing the way you and your old co-pilot Maya Veliz fight. You’re efficient and without flashy moves, which he can appreciate. But there’s a speed at which you make decisions and take risks that has him shaking his head. 

Yet, there is something vaguely familiar. He pauses his meal to watch closer, realizing what it is. There is a brutality to your fighting that he recognizes in himself, a need to kill. You fight to win, willing to take a little damage if it means you can deal the final blow.

The thought unsettles him. Your fighting style is so similar to his that he would be lying if he tried to say otherwise. There is logic and calculation to your moves, but then there’s always that deviation. That random blip in your pattern that is unexpected and dangerous. 

“Will watching my drop footage make you like me more?”

Your voice startles him. He drops his fork and it clatters against the table, loud in the soft din of the cafeteria. You’re leaning over him, a smirk on your face and a devilish glint dancing in your eyes as you look at his phone screen where you successfully put down a kaiju. 

“Deathclaw wasn’t very impressive. It was pretty small. My mom and I took out Umbraxis my first year, though.”

Jihoon snatches his phone and locks the screen, putting it face down. He scowls down, feeling his heart flip a little. Your scent drifts over to him at your proximity, a mix of amber and jasmine. It’s already familiar to him, having caught the scent when you pinned him down earlier, hand pressed to his heart-

You sit across from him and he looks up at you. His mind goes blank, staring as you unwrap your silverware picking up a fork to stab a piece of chicken and pop it into your mouth. You hum happily, totally unaware - or maybe unbothered - at his increasing irritation. 

“Tell me about your jaeger,” you demand - not ask. Your eyes find his, two pools of curiosity that have his tongue heavy, words sticky. “I want to know all about her.”

“You’re not going to make the drop with me.”

The curve of your mouth is wicked. “Tell me anyway.”

For a few minutes, Jihoon doesn’t answer. He waits to see if the silence will push you away or make you anxious. It doesn’t seem to. You keep eating without saying anything else, occasionally glancing at him with a cocked brow as if to suggest you have all the time in the world. 

“She was re-outfitted two years ago,” Jihoon says slowly. He doesn’t know why he’s answering you at all, but he continues, “Mark-5 now with the new outfitted tech - she’s still nuclear-driven to avoid any EMP attacks. Outfitted with GD6 steel-obsidian chain swords on each arm, but there are also smaller, detachable blades for hand-to-hand fighting, along with some projectiles. She’s also got a lightning strike powered by the nuclear-core but it can only be used once, and only as a last resort. It obliterates local wildlife in the water.”

“What’s the suspension look like?”

“Gyro-stabilizers to stay fluid when fighting and L-10 locks on all of the joints to strap in and withstand damage. She’s built to take a lot of blunt-force and melee attacks, but she’s top heavy if she loses footing.”

“Have you only been in Storm Breaker?”

He nods. “Since my first drop.”

“She’s beautifully built.” 

Jihoon doesn’t respond. It does bring him a small sense of pride to know that you admire the jaeger he fights in, but he doesn’t thank you. He suspects you notice but doesn't say anything, which surprises him. You seem like the stubborn type who doesn't like to back down from a fight, and yet multiple times this morning you’ve conceded to him, refusing to get upset. 

It bothers him. He can’t tell if it’s because you’re a people pleaser or if you think you're gentle-parenting him, and he doesn’t like it either way. 

So he doesn’t talk to you. He lets the conversation die there, despite sensing your amusement from across the table. He feels the grip on his fork increase, metal biting into his palms as he tries to ignore you. He can smell the jasmine and amber of your perfume, which makes him feel more insane, and he can’t help but steal glances at you and dart his eyes away.

You’re pretty. He’s had attractive co-pilots before. That’s not new, nor has it ever bothered him. Something about you draws the eye, though. He thinks it’s the aura of confidence you give off, effortlessly comfortable in your skin and your situation, despite Jihoon not making it any easier on you.

“Hi,” The raspy voice interrupts Jihoon’s thoughts and he looks up as Wylie slams her tray down on the table. She’s sweaty, freshly peeled from her Drivesuite and offering a hand to you as she gives her full name. “You can call me Wylie, though. Everyone does. Are you Woozi’s new co-pilot?”

“Yes,” you answer at the same time Jihoon says no. “Though I didn’t know that was the name he preferred.” 

Wylie shoots him a sly grin and sits down next to him. He curses and scoots over, the younger girl nearly on top of him as she leans her elbows on the table. “He doesn’t prefer it, which is why it stuck. He's a very cranky cat, but he’s nice once you get to know him.” 

Jihoon scowls, turning to her. “Did I invite you to sit down with us?”

“No.” 

That’s it. That’s the end of her statement. Jihoon watches as she settles happily, opening chocolate milk and chugging it back like it’s water. Jihoon cringes and readies to lob an insult her way when he’s interrupted again, another tray slamming down next to hers. 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon summons all the gods he doesn’t believe in to give him the god damn patience. Chan is wearing a shit-eating grin as he leans across the table, offering his hand in the same, chipper manner his partner had moments before. 

“I’m Chan. But you can call me Dino.”

“Why Dino?” 

“I step on everyone.” 

You raise your brows, amused, eyes flickering to Wylie. Sensing your question, Wylie says around a mouthful of mac and cheese, “Like Wylie Coyote because I’m a menace who doesn’t stop attacking.” 

“How was your drop?” 

“Easy,” they say in unison. 

Jihoon focuses on his plate, feeling grouchy. They start to talk like he’s not even there, and though that is typically how conversations go around him, he’s suddenly bothered by it. Especially when you seem so smug that at least someone likes you. 

He wants to tell you they don’t count. Chan is one of the nicest people in the Shatterdome and will talk to anyone, if they give him the time of day. Wylie isn’t exactly nice but she’s in love with Chan and is happy to be nice to anyone who is being nice to him. The pair are relatively easy to win over. 

It only gets worse for him when Soonyoung and the others start sitting down. Everyone seems eager to ask you questions, a new shiny toy for his friends to play with. He chews on the corner of his lip, feeling stormy in the corner of the table as Seokmin peppers you with questions and exclamations at your answers. 

A shift in tension makes Jihoon look up. Seungcheol sits down at the table slowly, as though trying not to be a distraction or catch any attention. He’s three seats away from Wylie and out of her eyeshot, but Wylie is a born predator, sensing him like a hunter. Her eyes cut over to Seungcheol and she bristles, shooting up to her feet to grab her tray and storm off. 

Chan sighs, muttering a brief apology before grabbing his things and going after her. Jihoon glances at Seungcheol, watching the way his jaw ticks at the interaction. Surprisingly, you don’t ask any questions. You lean over to Soonyoung and ask him about some of their earlier fights, shifting the energy at the table from tense to light in a second.

Seungcheol relaxes, and though he doesn’t introduce himself, he’s not unkind to you. Jihoon feels a pang for the pilot, knowing that the last year has been difficult for him. Cherry left Seungcheol adrift without a partner, and he’s been unable to find someone to replace her. 

He thinks about offering you to Seungcheol as an alternative. 

Jihoon does learn a little bit about you while listening to everyone talk, though. You've only had two co-pilots in your life where Jihoon has lost count. He wonders what growing up piloting with a parent feels like, and though you smile as you talk about growing up working with your mom, there’s a tightness to your mouth, a look in your eye that he can’t place.

Feeling his gaze, your eyes shift to him. Jihoon realizes he’s been staring at you. He stands and leaves the table abruptly, Seokmin’s voice apologizing on his behalf drifting after him. 

Thankfully, you don’t follow him. He dumps his tray and leaves it in the discarded pile for the cafeteria staff and immediately begins the climb to the command bridge where the Marshall’s office is. His thoughts race but go nowhere at the same time, an echochamber that he can’t untangle. 

Before Jihoon can knock on the entrance to the Marshall’s office, the military commander looks up and waves Jihoon in. “I was about to call for you. Shut the door, please.”

Jihoon does so without comment and sits down. He glances around the office, distracting himself as the Marshall finishes what he was working on. The office is orderly and tidy, every ounce the professional and uptight officer that sits in front of Jihoon, leaning back in the seat to sigh heavily and level Jihoon with a stare. 

Before Jihoon can open his mouth to list all of the reasons you shouldn’t be his pilot, the Marshall speaks. “You’re on probation.” 

“I - what?” 

“For the next three months, if you lose your co-pilot, you will be reassigned to administrative work or to a new Shatterdome.”

Jihoon opens his mouth. Closes it. The weight of the Marshall’s words don’t quite sink in, though Jihoon can tell they’re heavy. Real. “We’ve given you plenty of chances to effectively remain a pilot for Storm Breaker, but the board feels as though the trade off has become an issue.”

“The trade off?”

“You’re costing us money. And cadets. People want to train where they can potentially see themselves become a pilot. When we have open spots and jaegers coming up on retirement, it bolsters recruitment.” The Marshall levels him with a tired stare. “But when we have a pilot who no one can partner with, it puts us in a bind to send cadets where they will fit elsewhere.” 

“Look - “

“No you look, Lee. You’ve been a pilot here for six years. That’s considered a veteran in this field. But the higher ups grow tired of even veterans when they’ve been unmanageable for the last two of those six years.”

Heat flashes up the side of Jihoon’s neck, equal parts embarrassed and angry. He’d been the first in his class to suit up, selected as Haneul’s co-pilot to fill in for their partner that had retired. Jihoon remembers how proud - and nervous - he was and how easy it had been to partner with Haneul.

He didn’t have that anymore, the safety net of the only parental figure he’d ever known gone. 

“The pilots you’ve paired me with have no business being in a jaeger,” Jihoon says matter of factly. “I don’t respect them.”

“Well good thing we’ve given you someone to respect.”

Jihoon shakes his head. “I can’t fight with her.”

“You can and you will. Your drift compatibility is 98% and you have similar fighting style and come from similar machines. You’ll start Conn-pod training tomorrow.”

“Don’t make me partner with her. I don’t like her.”

The Marshall stands. “One day you might learn that if you give people a chance, you’d like what you find.” 

“Marshall-” 

“That’s all, Ranger.” 

The air feels heavy as Jihoon leaves the Marshall’s office. He stops on the command deck, his eyes flickering over to the windows. The glass is floor to ceiling all the way around, giving the tower a 360-degree view of the pacific ocean. Blue stretches out as far as the eye can see, backdropped by the shining silver of the city. 

Boats bob on the water, shifting back and forth on the dark surface. Air teams go back and forth, working in the aftermath of Chan and Wylie’s successful kaiju destruction. Jihoon can see the toxicity on the surface of the water, an oil slick that he knows the exact pungent smell of. 

Trailing to an observation window, he stares with unseeing eyes. How many times had he stood up here and provided commentary to his friends during a fight? He didn’t frequent the command deck, but sometimes it gave him perspective. Or he was a little worried about his friends, especially when they were taking on higher category kaiju. 

Jihoon chews on the side of his lip. He’s talked Wylie and Chan through plenty of bouts before. He remembers sharply the terror of the fight that had changed all of their lives over a year ago, watching as the hull of Fang Striker was breached, the screams of terror as Wylie took a talon to the stomach, nearly killing her. The aftermath of Chan’s grief.

A chill breaks out over his arms. Jihoon knows he isn’t cut out to sit through something like that again, to try and get a panicking pilot to focus and get to safety. He’s not made for an advisory role. Not built to watch pilots come and go, completely operating out of his control. 

Death is easier to process in the heat of battle. It gives him an excuse to be distracted, to hide from the immediate pain of losing a pilot during a fight because he’s too busy protecting himself, protecting the city. He’s not made to watch it from afar and take the full weight of it.

Turning away from the window, Jihoon descends back down to the ground floor. 

Probation period. Three months of having to stomach you or he’s out. Flexing his fingers, he heads to his room, needing the silence. If Jihoon is going to do this, he knows he needs to keep himself in line. Can’t push you away like he has the others. 

And he hates you for it.

-

Music bleeds through the metal door out into the hall. You wonder how any of the neighboring rooms let him get away with it. Then again, Lee Jihoon seems like someone most jaeger pilots don’t go toe-to-toe with often, if they can help it. At least it’s classical music, the swelling sound of Mozart sweeping into the hallway as you open the door, propping it with your hip to haul the box in your arms through. 

Jihoon’s eyes snap open immediately. He’s lounging on the bottom bunk of the bed in the far corner of the room, face lit by the glow of the muted screen in the corner showing the rain and ocean spray beating against the Shatterdome. Nothing disturbs the seas at the moment, though you wonder in a hotspot like this how long that will last. 

A scowl twists his mouth. You let the door shut behind you, setting the box down on the media table by the doorway. “Mozart?” you ask, arching a brow. He glares at you, sitting up from where he had been lounging with his hands tucked behind his head. “A bit cliche, don’t you think?” 

“What do you know about music?”

“Enough to know that someone with balanced compositions that orchestrate total control and logic in its make is… not surprising for you.” He blinks in surprise. “I like Tchaikovsky. There’s something more mercurial to his compositions.” 

“Tchaikovsky was inspired by Mozart.”

“I didn’t say one was better than the other.” You smirk. “You don’t like differences of opinion, do you?”

“I always value opinions. Some more than others.”

“Mhmm. Where can I put my things?”

Jihoon closes his eyes and lays back on the bed. His blonde hair is undone, fanning around him in a silvery-white halo. “The trash chute, preferably.” 

“Wherever I want, got it.” 

He ignores you. You suppress a laugh and move into the room proper. It’s small, filled with only the essentials to house two people to eat, sleep, and shower. A small kitchenette sits to your left, hidden in darkness with all of the lights off. You spot a shelf filled with dry goods - mostly protein bars - and coffee. There is a sad excuse for a sitting area with a tiny table and two chairs next to the TV screen, a bunk bed with a wardrobe next to it, and a tiny bathroom.

Cozy. 

Pulling open the wardrobe, you see that there’s room for your things. You shoot Jihoon a sidelong glance. He certainly hadn’t moved his things over to take over the full wardrobe after his last pilot left. You wonder if he’s just used to being unable to use the full space or if he had made room for you.

You doubt it’s the latter. 

Ave Verum Corpus plays in the background as you unpack the tiny box that is your life. You hum along, shutting the wardrobe and padding over to the bathroom. Jihoon could be asleep for all you know, but you suspect he’s not. When you glance over at him after shutting the medicine cabinet, you see his foot tapping to the beat of the music.

“What other kind of music do you like?” His foot stops tapping at your question.

Turning off the bathroom light, you move to the door to break down the cardboard box you brought your things in. Jihoon doesn’t answer at first, his frame rigid with tension, as though he had forgotten you were there until you spoke. You suppose that’s entirely possible, if not a little unlikely. 

Just when you think he’s not going to answer, he mutters, “I like ballads.”

“Romantic.” He frowns but doesn’t say anything further. “What’s your favorite one? Or artist?”

“Go play twenty questions with someone else. I’m not interested.”

“I’m going to find out anyway.” He opens his eyes then. They’re dark, pupils blown as his face twitches in an almost snarl. “It is an inevitable fact that we will have to drift. I recommend making peace with that now.” 

“I’m going to bed,” he announces, flopping over on his side and crossing his arms.

You let Jihoon be mean. It does you no good to fight with him when you eventually need him on your side, and you can sympathize with him to a degree. He didn’t choose you as his pilot and he’s backed into a corner, a do or die situation that he can’t back out of. The only way is forward and it’s against his will. 

As he pretends to sleep, you occupy yourself on the top bunk with your tablet, sliding headphones over your ears so he doesn’t bitch you out. Flicking through online channels, you familiarize yourself with your fellow jaeger pilots at the Shatterdome, watching fight footage and interviews. 

You come across a set of popular pilots, only one of them familiar to you. You recognize the man from dinner earlier - he had sat down and the tension around the table had increased tenfold. Wylie had immediately clocked his presence and stormed off, Chan trailing behind her with an apologetic look.

Tapping on their information, you hum in interest to yourself. Seungcheol. You recognize the name, vaguely. He piloted Duellona Fury with his copilot, a woman you don’t recognize but that has a bright smile. They make a good team, totally in sync and feeding off each other’s energy. You wonder where she is now, assuming she’s the source of the tension between Wylie and Seungcheol.

You wonder what you and Jihoon will be like as drift partners. So far he seems to hate you, but he does tolerate you. It’s a start, if not ideal. You won’t start drifting right away - not for real anyway. Practicing combat drills and learning more about one another is the first step to any partnership, followed by practice drifts.

In the drift, there’s no room for hatred or enmity. Trust is paramount, but almost as important is respect. Respect for what you see in the thoughts and feelings of your partner, respect that they’re good at what they do and that they’re the best person for the job, respect that they are your equal. Too many partners get lost in trying to save the other, losing sight of being equally capable or feeling like they know better. 

Jihoon doesn’t seem capable of that. Not right now, anyway. It doesn’t matter, though. You’re his only option to stay in the jaeger program, and though he hasn’t said anything about it, you’re pretty sure he knows. 

“Can you shut the tablet off?” Jihoon grunts from below. You sigh heavily, tucking it to your chest. “The glow is fucking bright.”

“The TV is also glowing, Jihoon.” 

“Yeah, so your tablet adds to the general light in the room.”

“Close your eyes.”

“It isn’t helping. Go under your covers.”

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in, you lock the tablet and shove it under your pillow. “Better?”

“Yes.”

Weather the storm, you think to yourself. Jihoon is angry and capricious, but it’s more to do with his situation than it is to do with you. And despite his snappy nature, there are flashes of him willing to work with you by answering questions, albeit with attitude. 

You can do this. You can make Lee Jihoon like you. Maybe even respect you.

-

You are not a morning person. Lee Jihoon, however, is a morning person. Which is why it takes everything inside of you not to launch your pillow at him when you hear the classical music wake you from sleep in the morning, making you lift your heavy head to look around the room, vision blurry.

Heat from a fresh shower drifts from the bathroom only a short distance away. You stare in confusion, blinking rapidly as Jihoon walks out of the bathroom. He’s brushing his teeth furiously with one hand, looking at his phone with the other, blue light making him look like a phantom in the dim light. 

And he’s dressed in nothing but a towel slung low on his waist, making you nearly go catatonic. 

It’s not like you haven’t seen a body before - it’s just a body, and soon enough, you’ll be in his head. It’s important to get any weirdness out of the way because in the drift, you’ll bare everything. But for some reason the image of his small, compact body scrambles your brain this early in the morning.

Jihoon is built like a weapon, all sleek lines and hard muscles. He stands in the kitchen, setting down his phone as he opens cabinets and starts to make coffee, toothbrush still in his mouth. The muscles in his back flex as he moves, skin pale and smooth as the moon. 

“Are you a coffee person?” he asks, because he knows you’re awake. Of course he does. You don’t answer for a moment, stuck between eyeing the narrow taper of his hips and the question that implies he’s willing to make you coffee. He turns, arching a brow at you. “Now you shut up?” 

That brings a scowl to your face. “Yes, I drink coffee.” 

“Great.” 

He goes back to what he was doing, ignoring you entirely. Dragging your eyes away from him, feeling flushed and overwarm, you throw the covers back, scrambling from the top bunk. You land with a soft huff, feeling the chill of the concrete floor as you dart to the wardrobe to pull out clothes. 

“What time is it?”

“You have eyes, look at the TV.”

Got it, you think. He’ll make coffee for you but not do something as simple as answer what time it is. You do look at the TV, seeing the darkened feed of the churning ocean breaking against the walls of the Shatterdome. There are multiple camera angles, weather radar and Dome messages that break up the screen into sections. The time is in the top corner, flashing 5:13 am. 

“Ji, it is five in the morning.”

“Five-thirteen. And don’t call me Ji. I’m not your buddy.” 

Taking a deep breath, you mutter curses under your breath. “I’m going to shower.”

As expected, you get no response. 

The great thing about living in a billion dollar buildinding with hundreds of people is that there’s no shortage of hot water. You’re grateful as the steam fills the room, hot water making your coiled muscles melt the second you step under the shower. You let the frustration from the morning fade away, the rush of the water and the feel of it sluicing down your back-

A loud knock on the door breaks your reverie. You hear it open. Jihoon grunts, “I wasn’t done brushing my teeth. I need the sink.”

“Then use the sink.”

Jihoon shuffles into the bathroom. You hear the faucet turn on and you go back to tilting your head backward under the stream of water, ignoring the sound of him going about his morning routine. In a way, it’s sort of peaceful, the sounds of him softly opening and closing cabinets and the clinking of jars against the counter soft in the background. 

He’s back in the kitchen by the time you’re out of the shower and wrapped in a towel. You venture out into the main room in kind, deciding that if he is going to walk around in nothing but a towel, so will you. He barely gives you a glance from his bottom bunk, lounging around in low-slung sweats with no shirt, blonde hair splayed on his pillow. You ignore him in favor of the lone mug of coffee sitting in the kitchen steaming.

Gripping it and bringing it up, you let the ceramic warm you from your palms upward, inhaling before taking a tentative sip. It’s bitter but it helps you wake up. You glance at Jihoon from over the lip of the cup. He scrolls on a tablet mindlessly, as though he’s forgotten you’re there.

Neither one of you speaks as you finish your coffee. Turning to the sink, you start washing the cup out. You notice his used mug sitting in the bottom of the sink and pick it up, wash it and put it in the drying rack next to yours without thinking about it before returning to the bathroom to dress fully.

Once dressed and out of the bathroom, it’s almost six. Jihoon is bent over by the door, his boot on the coffee table as he laces it. Now fully dressed, his long hair is pulled back in a bun, a few silver whisps escaping and falling across his face. Again, you’re struck by how beautiful he is for a moment. 

He straightens and looks at you, raising his brows. Instead of answering him, you hurry to the wardrobe, pulling out your boots to slide them on and head to breakfast. You half expect him to leave you behind, but to your surprise, he lingers with the door open, dark eyes clocking your every movement. As soon as you’re done tying laces, he’s out the door and charging again, leaving you to scramble behind him.

Silence follows you into the cafeteria, which has the quiet atmosphere of an early morning. Workers and pilots ending their shifts sit at the table, scarfing down breakfast for dinner. Early shift workers hurry to grab a bite before heading off to the different parts of the Shatterdome. It’s not nearly as loud as lunch or dinner, but the soft din is inviting as you go through the line, following your new co-pilot wordlessly. 

None of the friendly faces from yesterday are in the cafeteria, so the two of you sit alone. Jihoon is methodical as he sets up his breakfast, each move calculated and precise. He eats the same way, finishing something entirely before moving on to the next time. 

His obsession with organization and control is almost fascinating, if not a little worrying. Instead of asking about it, you eat in silence, humming delightedly at the cheesy hashbrowns made available that morning. He casts you a single annoyed glance when he notices you enjoying your meal. 

Breakfast goes without a fight, though. Glancing at the large clock above the entrance to the cafeteria, you realize you only have a few minutes left before your day of training starts. Jihoon seems to be on the same wavelength, pulling out his phone to scroll through your schedule. 

“Meditation first,” he murmurs. He shoves his phone in his pocket and stands without preamble. “Do you think you can manage meditation?”

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but we haven’t spoken for over an hour.”

Confusion crosses his face, quickly followed by astonishment. He hadn’t realized that most of your morning has been spent in silence. His brows pull together, mouth turning slightly as he works over your words. It seems to make him unhappy. He narrows his eyes and his mouth twists before he turns and marches away from the table, leaving you behind. 

Mouth quirking, you follow quickly, not wanting to lose your way to wherever it is you’re supposed to report to. He walks faster this time, determined to keep you moving and on your toes. Wherever the studio designated to you for the morning feels like it’s halfway around the world. Jihoon leads you down a series of halls and stairs, never slowing his pace once.

By the time you get to a small, soundproof room, your calves are burning. 

“You need conditioning,” he mutters, noticing the way you’re a little out of breath.

“You basically just took me on a light jog,” you protest. “I think it’s fair to be a little winded this early in the morning.”

“It doesn’t matter what time it is. What will you do if we make the drop at four in the morning?” 

Jihoon doesn’t wait for you to answer. Instead, he goes to the middle of the room and sits down on the floor, and crosses his legs. Instead of taking his bait and picking a fight with him, you sigh and stride into the room. He positions himself, ready for you to sit in front of him. Instead, you circle around him, sitting down behind him. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, twisting toward you.

“Meditating. Turn back around so we can be back-to-back.”

“What? Why?”

“Just trust me.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, try. It’s easier to feel your breaths and your heartbeat this way. Plus, there's less pressure if you don’t have to look directly at me.”

“Thank god for that,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes at the barb but grin when Jihoon listens, twisting back around to face the front. He lets you settle against him, the warmth from his back melting into yours. He is rigid, his spine solid as it digs into yours for a second. You lick your lips, feeling electricity shiver down you at the contact, like there’s a spark. 

The hum of the air condition is the only sound in the room. You close your eyes, leaning into Jihoon so that you fit flush together. You match your breaths with his, feeling your breathing slow down. Your heart slows to, like it’s trying to let him catch up, both of you melting into the same rhythm. 

Behind you, Jihoon relaxes. The back of his head rests against yours, both of you leaning into the touch, becoming the equal opposing force holding the other up. 

Balance is imperative in co-pilots. Jihoon needed to bring to the fight what you lacked and vice versa, the two of you making something whole, something complete. It’s a balance that’s not easily achieved, and though you’d always been a good pair with your mother and then maya, you know instinctively that it’s nothing compared to Jihoon’s counterbalance. 

A timer goes off in the room, startling you with how quickly time has passed. You blink your eyes rapidly, letting the room swim back into focus. For a second, neither one of you moves, content to lean against the other until Jihoon seems to realize he’s still pressed against you. He scrambles to his feet unexpectedly and you fall backward, losing his counterweight immediately. 

Thunking against the floor, you glare up at him. He smirks, looking down at you as he wipes dust from the back of his pants. “You should never let a co-pilot fall,” you huff, hauling yourself to your feet. 

“Good thing we’re not really co-pilots.”

“Yet,” you supply. You get up, stretching and feeling your joints pop. “Even you can’t deny that it was a great first meditation session.”

“Let’s go. We have sparring.” 

-

Jihoon doesn’t like you. 

He doesn’t like you, but he has to admit you are a perfect fit for him. You are loud where he is quiet, you make light when he remains serious, and you deviate when he’s planned. Yet somehow, you manage to mesh with him in your training, the perfect opposite force to him.

For the most part, you leave him alone. He can tell you’ve figured out when to bite back and when to eat your words. It’s become a game to him, throwing insults your way to watch whether you’ll riposte back or swallow your pride. 

The amount of times you swallow your pride impresses him, unfortunately. His original assessment that you are unpredictable and uncontrolled was wrong. He can see the way you actively meet his cold winter with warm summer, trying to melt him. 

He doesn't like giving you credit for your control, but he does so begrudgingly. 

Worst of all, he realizes that it’s not you he dislikes. It’s his situation, it’s knowing that you’re his lifeline and he has to accept you, and it’s knowing that despite his initial dislike, you’re a mirror that he can’t look away from. It doesn’t help that you live two feet away from him at all times, occupying every moment of his life just a reach-of-a-hand away. 

Training is tiring. It feels like he’s a rookie all over again, going through the exercises as the two of you learn to fight together, moving through meditation sessions, sparring, talking sessions - which don't really involve a lot of talking on his part as much as yours - and drop simulations. 

Drop simulations are the most exhausting for him. You bring everything to the drift. It’s nearly overwhelming at first how much you’re willing to show him. From the moment the mental bridge connects the two of you through the simulation software, Jihoon is shocked at the way you lay yourself bare. You hide nothing from him, letting him roam around your thoughts at his leisure. 

He feels everything you’ve ever felt. Elation when you make your first real drop with your first co-pilot, your mom. Sore ribs after a particularly difficult sparring match when you were a teeager in the training program. Pride when you finish the top of your training program. Terror when a fight goes awry and your mother overwhelms you in the drift, taking the full neural load of the jaeger to protect you. Rage at her doing so. 

“What happened here?” he finds himself asking, sticking near the memory. 

He thinks you won’t answer him, but of course you do. Unlike him, you’re open for the taking. “The hull was breached in my first year of fighting. My mother panicked because it was on my side of the jaeger and she tried to take on the neural load.” 

Jihoon says nothing. Piloting a jaeger alone overwhelms the nervous system and the brain, which is why each jaeger has two pilots in the first place. It can be done, but the risk for damage is always present. He senses where your conversation is going.

“We only piloted together for three more years after that. She was starting to struggle to make the drift, so we paused to get her examined. They discovered lesions on her brain and linked it to the damage from that day she tried to pilot alone.”

“She wanted to protect you.”

“She did, but it doesn’t make up for what she did. I was her equal, not someone she was supposed to protect.” You look at him and he looks at you, surrounded by your memories in the drift. “I am deserving of treated like an equal.” 

He understands what you’re really saying, that he should treat you like an equal too. Instead of responding, he busies himself with studying other parts of you that you let him have. 

There is a melody to your mind that he enjoys, though he’ll never tell you so. The more you drift together, the more Jihoon realizes that you are exactly like a Tchaikovsky piece. There is an organized chaos to you, a mathematical formula that is logical and measurable, but that deviates from the norm once in a while. 

Every drift, you remain open to him, your thoughts for the taking. You don’t even hide the moments you’ve thought of him - both in occasional attraction and irritation. Irritation at him bringing nothing to drift, opening no part of himself to you. Irritation when he’s mean to you. Hesitant fondness when he does something nice. Confused attraction when he walks around in just a towel. 

Water sluices down his back. Jihoon’s thoughts are still foggy from three weeks of nothing but practice and drills. He also finds it harder to sleep sometimes in the room, his dreams filled with the scent of your amber and jasmine and the lively sound of Tchaikovsky acting as the soundtrack to his dreams.

You’re still asleep when he exits the bathroom. He’s made sure to turn the light off before opening the door, steam billowing out after him. He scoops headphones from the nightstand as he heads to the kitchen, towel snug around his waist. He pops the earbuds in, the sound of Mozart starting his morning as he begins to make coffee. 

Jihoon has quickly learned that the longer he lets you sleep in the morning, the less whiny you are when you wake up. Instead of playing his music out loud, he lets you sleep until he’s made two cups of coffee, adding a spoonful of brown sugar and milk to yours. He sets it on the table and walks back to the bathroom, one of the requiem pieces carrying him through his routine. 

On the way to the bathroom, he stops by your bunk. He hesitates for a second, drinking you in as you sleep. Nestled in that top bunk is the only place you’re as peaceful as you are in the drift. Your features are smoothed out as you slumber, mouth open a little, drool sticky on the corner of your mouth. Jihoon’s lips twitch a little and he shakes his head before reaching out to tap the ankle hanging off your bed. You mumble in response. 

“Get up,” he says gruffly. “You’ve slept long enough.”

He returns to the bathroom and shuts the door to get fully dressed. He knows you’ll be standing in the kitchen looking dazed and confused sipping coffee until he comes out and frees the bathroom for you to shower. 

The alarm for a kaiju alert goes off. He hears it blaring over his music and he pulls the earbuds out, opening the door half dressed in just pants as he looks at the screen flashing red. A Category Four kaiju has been sighted in the bay. His heart skips, knowing that Cat-4 kaiju are dangerous even for the most skilled pilots at the Dome. 

Assignments flash across the screen. Solar Saber and Fang Striker have been summoned to drop. Nervousness flutters in Jihoon’s stomach. He snatches a shirt and yanks it over his head, moving quickly around the room to grab boots. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, leaning off the counter. 

“Heading to the command deck. Come or don’t.”

“I’ll come.” 

You dump your coffee in the sink, jumping to action as you peel off your pajama pants, searching for cargos. Jihoon hardly realizes you’re changing in front of him - he’s seen it all in your head anyway - as he laces his boots. He doesn’t know why, but he starts to explain himself, “Dino and Wylie have a… history with Cat-4 kaiju.” 

“You want to be an extra set of eyes and ears.” He nods at the accurate assessment. “Got it. Run me through Solar Saber drop stats if you know them.”

Jihoon does. He fires off what he knows about the team. Their stats are fine, but a Category Four kaiju is new for them. They have a good jaeger. It’s on the newer side, nuclear powered with plasma cannons and a massive plasma sword that burns brighter than the sun, earning the machine its name. It’s piloted by a set of twins, which produce some of the best drifts in the jaeger program.

But there’s a nervousness in Jihoon’s stomach that he can’t place. Everytime his friends drop, he knows they’ll be okay - but he also knows the level of danger. Perhaps it’s because of Chan and Wylie’s accident last year or because they’re dropping with a team Jihoon doesn’t trust, but he suddenly wants to tell the Marshall to let Storm Breaker do the drop.

A hand brings him out of his thoughts. Your gaze is as calm as the surface of a lake, piercing. “We’re ready, if we need to be.” 

Of course you know what he’s thinking. Despite his best efforts, you seem particularly good at stitching the tiny threads that escape through Jihoon’s wall of ice.  

You drop your hand and grab the room keys, heading toward the door with top speed. His arm is warm where your fingers were a moment ago, burning like a brand. He shakes it off as he follows you out, both of you jogging up to the top level of the Shatterdome to observe. 

Crew races around the dome. Jihoon sees Seungkwan and Vernon rushing up the stairs to the command deck. He follows suit, you quick on his heels. People fill the room, talking over one another as they shout into headsets and screens flash different camera angles. 

The Marshall stands in the center of it all behind the LOCCENT Mission Controller who will walk the pilots through the fight. Jihoon doesn’t recognize the man giving them instructions, but he joins the wall of people standing behind him to observe the screens, taking a place next to Vernon and Seungkwan. 

You glance at Vernon and back to Jihoon, a question in your gaze. “This is Vernon,” Jihoon says in response. “He’s currently a jumphawk pilot. Could be a jaeger pilot if he could figure out the drift but he’s too screwy up top.” 

“Thanks, man.”

“You can call me Blue,” you offer. Your eyes drift to the screens. “Friends of the pilots out there?”

“Wylie is one of my best friends.” 

Instead of telling him something like they’ll be alright or offering words of comfort, all you do is nod. Jihoon respects that. Anything comforting would be a potential lie and useless in a world of blood and metal, salt and fire. 

The entire room falls into a steady cadence. Jihoon crosses his arms as he focuses on the screen. He’s mutely aware that you’re standing so close to him he can feel the heat of your arm, hands shoved in your pockets as you watch the screens, brows furrowed in concentration. 

On screen, Solar Saber churns the water toward a towering kaiju in the bay. The creature is straight out of a nightmare, a barbed tail whipping across the surface of the ocean, misting water as it does. From what Jihoon can tell, it’s got four legs, each equipped with long talons. Rows and rows of teeth reveal itself as the kaiju opens its mouth and roars, the vibration from the sound so deep that it vibrates underneath his feet. 

“I don’t like that tail,” Vernon mutters next to Jihoon. 

“It’s like a manticore.” Jihoon glances at you. You’re not looking at them, but your head is tilted in curiosity as you point to the screen. “Four legs, a curved tail with a barb. The webbing around its neck suggests it might have a frill.”

“Strike teams, confirm positions,” the LOCCENT controller says into the mic. 

“Fang Striker in position two miles north of kaiju and Solar Saber.” It’s Wylie’s raspy voice that crackles over the shared radiowave with the jaeger teams. “Perimeter is set.”

“Solar Saber ready to engage,” a female voice comes over the speaker. Jihoon recognizes it as one of the twin co-pilots, Jezzi. 

“Permission to engage.” 

As Solar Saber engages with the kaiju, the command deck goes quiet. People guiding the helicopters and ground teams speak softly into their mics, a level of tense calm washing over as everyone watches the fight ensue.

Solar Saber is beautiful to watch fight. The armor is painted radiant gold and the glow of the sword is magnificent against the stormy waters as it slashes at the kaiju. Jezzi and her sister Yaz are calm throughout their bout, their voices clear and communicative as the kaiju batters them. 

“Cut off the tail,” you mutter under your breath. “It’s going to-”

Jihoon sees what you do as soon as you say it. While trying to kill the kaiju with a direct blow, Solar Saber has forgotten about the tail. The tip of the tail shivers, reminding Jihoon of a cat ready to strike, and it does. One moment, Solar Saber and the kaiju are locked in a wrestling match. Next, the tail is hammering the hull of the jaeger, striking over and over again like a scorpion.

Chaos explodes on the screens. Jihoon holds his breath as red flashes across the screens as the tail breaches the hull of Solar Saber. A tingle settles over him, the buzz of nerves as he watches Solar Saber take a knee, ocean water surging around the jaeger as the kaiju’s tail continues to hammer the jaeger’s head open. 

Jihoon grabs the LOCCENT Controller’s chair and yanks him backward out of the way, jamming his finger against the button to speak. “Don’t let it force you under the waterline,” he barks. “Cut off that tail, Solar Saber. If it forces you down, you’re going to take on water and drown.” 

“The right panel is damaged from acid from the tail,” Jezzi yells over the comes. “Sword arm cannot engage.” 

“Then disengage, Solar Saber. Do not let it force you down another knee.” 

Yaz screams back something incomprehensible over the comms. The left arm of Solar Saber lurches, reaching for the kaiju’s tail. It catches, yanking at the appendage hard. The kaiju screams as the tail breaks where Solar Saber has it gripped. The kaiju frenzies, screaming wildly as frills - just like you’d predicted - shake to life by its head, vibrating back and forth in a threat display as its dismembered tail whips back and forth, spraying ichor. 

“Fang Striker engaging,” Chan’s voice comes over the comms.

It’s the Marshall who answers. “Fang Striker, hold the perimeter.” 

“Fuck the peremiter,” Wylie seethes. 

The Marshall turns to you and Jihoon. “We’re ready,” Jihoon says at the same time as you.

A string of curses leaves Marshall’s mouth. “Fang Striker, assist Solar Saber with the intent to disengage. Storm Breaker dropping in ten.” 

Heart hammering, Jihoon turns to follow you out of the command center, footsteps like thunder as you sprint to the jaeger bay. He doesn’t even think twice about dropping with you, any reservations about you vanishing as the fighting instinct takes over. 

You’re an entirely different person when you step onto the catwalk, your team already scrambling with pieces of your Drivesuit. There is an eerie calm about you. You meet his gaze head on as your team fits armored pieces of Drivesuit onto your arms. Jihoon sees himself reflected so clearly that he’s startled. 

“What?” you ask, sensing the bewilderment. 

“Show me what you’re made of,” he says simply. 

Your mouth curves in a wicked grin and you nod once, understanding. 

Storm Breaker is beautiful. The fondness for her sweeps over him as he steps into the cockpit. The screens come to life, casting blue and red glow all over as he steps into the Conn-pod. He sheds any reservations he has as the team helps him connect. You’re only a few feet away, stepping into the left side of the Conn-pod. 

Jihoon’s world shifts to screens and canned voices in his headset as the shield of his helmet closes. It’s Seungkwan he hears over comms saying, “Engaging pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence.” 

“Do the pilots always take over the LOCCENT Controller’s here?” you muse, just to Jihoon. 

His lips twitch. “What can I say? Seungkwan knows I’m a control freak.” 

“Engaging neural handshake in three… two… one…” 

The world around him goes mute for a moment. Jihoon’s vision flashes white for a second. He feels you then, your thoughts and feelings becoming his. They’re not overwhelming though. He feels focus and determination from you with an undercurrent of ferocity. All of your memories and other feelings are there too, but they exist in the background. You’re a seasoned pilot, Jihoon doesn’t have to worry about you chasing the rabbit and falling down a hole of memories. 

“Neural handshake holding and strong,” Seungkwan calls. “Initiating drop in three… two… one…”

Jihoon’s stomach flies into his throat as he falls away from the world. The world is nothing but freefall for a few seconds. He feels the thrill that shoots through you and smiles - he can’t help it. Bending at the knee, he braces for impact. You do the same, and the cockpit lands on the jaeger’s mainframe with a metallic clang.

“Calibrating right hemisphere,” Jihoon announces, feeling the machine start to power to life. “Calibrated.” 

You repeat on the left side, the full machine powered on and ready with both hemispheres locked in.

“Storm Breaker ready to pursue,” Jihoon says. He looks up at the screen where Fang Striker is engaging the kaiju. Outside of Storm Breaker, he might feel his heart race with panic. Solar Saber is overturned and he has no idea if the pilots are inside of it as it takes on water. “Two miles out from contact.” 

“Pursue.” 

Your first step as a team is perfect. Fluid. Jihoon knew it would be. He hates to admit that he was wrong, but he knows it is. There is a thread of satisfaction bleeding over from you as Storm Breaker charges into the ocean, water rising rapidly around the waist. 

Ocean water slams against Storm Breaker’s chest as you charge toward the fighting. Fang Striker’s comms are patched in, but Wylie and Chan are silent as they rip at the kaiju, pulling at one of its wings that it unfolded from its back. Fang Striker looks tiny against the hulking mass of the monster, but its team is doing what it does best, savaging the creature a little at a time.

“Storm Breaker half a mile out,” you announce, voice like steel. “Ready to engage.” 

“Engage at your discretion.”

“Storm Breaker,” Chan says over comms. “Try and restrain this motherfucker. We’ve got a loose plate in its armor to exploit but it keeps shaking us off.”

“Heard.” 

As if hearing Chan, the kaiju flings Fang Striker off. Fang Striker’s red body crashes into the ocean, Wylie cursing the kaiju straight to hell and about fifty other foul places. 

Storm Breaker engages, both you and Jihoon plunging into the fight. The kaiju swipes at you but you both duck together, dodging the swing as you punch hard from the left in tandem. You knock it hard, it’s head snapping to the side. As a team, you use the opening to wrap the right arm around the kaiju’s neck, squeezing it toward Storm Breaker’s chest in a headlock. 

Stabilizers and locks click into place. He grits his teeth, as though feeling the actual strength it takes as the kaiju roars and claws at Storm Breaker, trying to free itself from the headlock. Together, you put the left arm around it, adding to the force to keep the kaiju from slipping from your grip. 

Clawed blows hammer down on Storm Breaker. Neither of you gives way, tightening your grip on the creature and ignoring the way the talons scratch against the hull. Storm Breaker is built to withstand, and neither one of you flinches as furious blows rain down on you, fists hammering. 

“It looks like that kaiju is playing you like a bongo,” Wylie’s voice comes over comms. “Hey Woozi, do you feel like it’s composing one of those songs you like?”

“Oh sure,” he shoots back. “Take your time, Wylie. It’s not like it’s trying to crack us like an egg.” 

“Ugh,” you sigh. “Don’t talk about food. I didn’t eat breakfast. Hey Seungkwan, can you ask Joshua to save me some hash browns? He’s always at the cafeteria first.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “You’re all insane. Any day now, Fang Striker.” 

Fang Striker appears from the sky like a creature from hell, a red streak of death as it falls. They land on the kaiju’s back, the force of the landing vibrating through Storm Breaker’s frame. The kaiju tries to twist in Storm Breaker’s arms, but you and Jihoon tighten even further. Fang Striker’s sword glints in the sunlight as it unsheathes. 

“Don’t stab us,” you say at the same exact time that Jihoon has the thought.

They almost do. Fang Striker buries the sword through the back of the kaiju, the tip of the blade peaking through its chest, almost scraping against Storm Breaker’s stomach. The monster thrashes wildly for a few minutes, clawing at Storm Breaker’s hull. Fang Striker hits the release on their sword, leaving it embedded in the kaiju’s back to stand and fire into the kaiju with plasma cannons. 

Jihoon feels the tremor of the shots land. There’s a final kick from the kaiju before it slumps, putting all of its deadweight on Storm Breaker. In unison, you and Jihoon throw the creature off of you. It lands with a crash, water surging around the creature as its weight drags it down before buoyancy pulls it back up.

Storm Breaker straightens, standing in the open water with a battered Fang Striker a couple of yards away. Panting, Jihoon looks across the Conn-pod where you’re already looking at him, shield on your helmet up as you grin at him. There is unguarded happiness there, nearly as bright as the sun that glints off Storm Breaker’s helm. 

“So,” you ask the group. “Can we get hashbrowns now?”

Jihoon realizes at that moment he doesn’t dislike you at all. 

-

“Would you slow down?” Jihoon asks, setting his tray down next to you roughly. He plops in the seat next to you, giving you a severe side eye. “You’re going to throw up the second you hit the treadmill eating that fast.”

“I want to get more bacon before they run out,” you whine. “They won’t make more once it’s gone.”

Uncovering the top of his tray, Jihoon reveals a heap of bacon slices. You oggle as he sets it between the two of you, shaking his head and scoffing. “Yeah,” he huffs. “I know. I brought more, so slow down.”

Affection for your co-pilot warms you. The affection is certainly one-sided, but you don’t mind. In the four months you’ve been co-piloting with Jihoon, he still hasn’t opened up to you.

Despite having made the drop five times together, Jihoon still brings almost nothing to the drift. You catch pieces of him, tiny snippets of memories or emotions or thoughts as you become one. You slowly use them to fit together the pieces of the Jihoon puzzle you’ve been working on every day. 

It helps that you live in such close proximity, too. Jihoon’s habits speak far more for them than his words ever could. Like the way he wakes up at the same exact time every day and tries to be asleep at the same time every night, or the way he meticulously cleans your shared living space every Sunday, or the way he starts every sparring session with the same eight-stretch sequence.

He still doesn’t talk about him in your time slotted for getting to know one another. It’s not therapy exactly, but every pilot team has designated time daily to talk things out. To work through things that are bothering them, or to talk about themselves. The more pilots know one another, the better they fight.

You know virtually nothing about Jihoon. He doesn’t talk about himself during sessions, so you talk for him. You tell him about your childhood, about piloting with your mom, about how much you miss Maya. He eventually starts asking questions. Provides responses.

“We’re on the drop schedule tomorrow,” Jihoon notes, flicking through his tablet on the table next to him. “It’s graveyard shift. Do you want me to ask Mingyu and Wonwoo to switch to the day shift?” 

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

He gives you a critical look. “You’re awful in the mornings.” 

“Not when I’m fighting.” You snatch more bacon. “Would you rather me or Mingyu in a jaeger at two in the morning?”

“Point taken.” Both of you know the only person more miserable than you in the morning is Kim Mingyu. Jihoon nudges you with your elbow and gestures to the bacon. “Finish up. We have to workout soon.” 

“Ugh.”

He smirks. “Cardio day.”

“Ji, no.”

He ignores the nickname. “So much running.”

Now you know he’s doing it on purpose. There are few things in your training schedule that bring Jihoon joy like torturing you during scheduled workouts. He had started slating them each day, determined to harden your conditioning despite the fact that you’re already in decent shape.

Decent is a word in his vocabulary. He only expects perfection and even then, you’re pretty sure it’s unattainable. Still, you finish your breakfast and let him lead you to the gym, peppering him with whining and protests the entire way. He ignores them with a placid smile, hands linked behind his back as he walks. 

When you get to the gym, there are other pilots and workers using their free time to exercise. There’s only a single treadmill open, which Jihoon gets on easily. You start to edge your way toward yoga mats with the intention of not working out at all when he leans over to look at the time on the treadmill next to him. 

“You’ve been on it for an hour,” he grunts at some boy who looks like a cadet. “Off you go.”

The cadet scrambles off, almost forgetting to turn the treadmill off before he does. He bows in respect before shooting off like a frightened school of fish. Jihoon turns to you, grinning as he pats the machine. “For you.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpan. “Just what I’ve always wanted.” 

Jihoon’s grin only grows when you step onto the treadmill as he leans over the rail and turns it on, pressing the incline and speed buttons until you’re walking at a warm up pace. Which, for Jihoon, is a solid jog. 

As you jog, you fish out headphones from your pocket. You pop them in your ears, careful not to trip as the sound of classical fills your ears. You’ve taken to using Jihoon’s playlists, despite originally making fun of him for it. You find that it distracts you more than you thought it would, and it helps that you feel like a character in a fantasy movie running to an epic soundtrack.

You’ve adopted a lot of things that Jihoon does. It happens naturally, especially the more you drift. You find yourself putting on Mozart instead of Tchaikovsky or taking your coffee black on accident or scolding others in the training room for not being precise and perfect. 

Ghost Drifting is what some call it. You don’t think you’re quite there yet, being that Jihoon still hides half of himself away. But sometimes, even outside of the drift, you feel him in your mind like a phantom presence. 

After your workout, you go through the same day you have everyday: meditate back to back, sparring, and your talking session, which mostly consists of you both sitting next to one another looking over your drop footage and noting areas for improvement. 

Jihoon’s shoulder is pressed against yours, his eyes focused on the tablet in your hands, tracking the slowed down movement of the video. He taps the screen, pointing to the right side of the jaeger that he pilots. “I was a bit slow here.” 

“It’s not your reaction time, you’d never punch that slow. That’s the arm that took damage two fights ago against Razorbill. Let’s talk to the J-Tech team and see if there’s a delay in the receptor. It might be a split second off.” He snorts and you glance sidelong at him. “What?”

“You don’t think I’d punch slow?”

“No.” 

Jihoon raises his brows. You can feel his surprise at your seriousness to his question. He obviously expected you to turn it into a harmless jab, but you mean it when you say, “Your reaction time has been perfect for the last sixteen drops you’ve made. If there’s a delay, it’s the machinery. Not you.”

He looks away from you, nodding once. The tips of his ears are red and he mutters, “Thanks.” 

Instead of pressing the matter like you want to, you smile and hit play again, both of you focusing on the screen once more to talk through the remainder of your allotted bonding time. 

In your room, Jihoon turns on the speakers, the sound of Pas de Deux from the Nutcracker floods the room. You pause by the wardrobe where you’re shucking your boots off, gazing at Jihoon as he moves into the kitchen silently, taking out two mugs, a box of peppermint tea and a kettle. 

He doesn’t feel your eyes on him, going about making tea for the both of you. He hums along to the song - you don’t know when he became so familiar with it, his movements comfortable. Practiced. Relaxed. A swell of affection overtakes you, realizing you don’t know when he started making you tea. Or putting on Tchaikovsky for you. Or not biting at you every two seconds. 

Sensing your gaze, he turns to look at you over his shoulder. You turn away from him, busying yourself with your boots to spare him from making an excuse as to why he’s making you tea. Because you’ll know he’ll give one, provide you with some sort of excuse that it isn’t a favor or because you’re friends, but rather something like the tea bags are too large for one or I have to boil the water anyway. 

When you’re done changing for bed, he’s standing next to you, mug extended. He doesn’t look at you, instead finding interest in the cameras outside the Shatterdome. You take the mug from him and say nothing, knowing he’d rather you not thank him. 

Mug in hand, you climb carefully into the top bunk, crossing your legs as you nestle the mug next to you, pulling out your tablet to read. He gets into bed without a word, both of you existing in comfortable silence, just like Jihoon prefers. 

-

Alarms wrench you from sleep. You’re thrown forward in your bed, red flashing on the TV as the kaiju alert system wails. You wipe sleep from your face as you haul yourself over the edge of the bunk, landing next to Jihoon who is pulling off his sweats in favor of cargo pants as quickly as he can. You feel dizzy and off balance as you do the same, shoving one foot in your pants and hopping on one leg as your foot catches while trying to shove in the other.

Jihoon grabs you by the elbow, holding you steady as you shove your foot through the leg of your pants and shoot him a grateful look. He nods, letting you go to finish zipping his pants and digging around for a shirt. He can’t seem to find one, cursing under his breath as he roots around. You toss him one of yours instead, grabbing a pair of socks and throwing yourself onto his bunk to yank them on, quickly followed by shoes. 

“Fuck,” Jihoon mutters as he looks up at the screen, the red painting him in hellish light. “We’ve got a Cat-4. They’re dropping Emperor’s Mandate and Fang Striker with us.” 

“Dino and Wylie weren’t even on rotation.” 

“They’re not making the same mistake they did with Solar Saber.” He pulls out a tablet, squinting against the glow. “We're the last line of defense. Hao and Jun will take point with Fang Striker.” 

“Got it. Let’s go.”

You take off at a jog, easily keeping pace with one another as you go. There are jaeger teams moving about the building getting ready, the alarms still sounding as you navigate to the jaeger bay. Your team is already there and ready to fit you into Drivesuits, sliding each piece of armor on with practiced care. 

Jihoon catches your eyes from where he stands across from you, letting a team member slide his hand into a metal glove. His eyes are dark as the stormy sea outside, a bottomless well that you can’t seem to dive down into, but want to. His lips twitch a little and he gives you a nod, which you’ve come to understand is Jihoon for I trust you. 

Screens blink to life as you enter the Conn-Pod. Closing the front shield of your helmet, you immediately turn on open comms, listening as the Marshall and LOCCENT Controller on duty - you think it’s Nainsi - talking Minghao and Junhui through their neural handshake. 

The spine of your Drivesuit connects to the Conn-pod, your heads up display coming to life. You feel the metal whirring and clicking into place, rotating your shoulders and flexing your fingers as your jaeger team finishes connecting Jihoon to the Conn-pod before exciting and shutting the door firmly.

“Storm Breaker ready to drop,” Jihoon announces. 

“Engaging pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence,” Nainsi answers. “Engaging neural handshake in three… two… one…”

It’s like jumping off a cliff into freezing cold water. You feel the flash of cold, vision going white for a split second before you feel Jihoon’s calm flow through you. He’s steady like an icy river, his thoughts, feelings and emotions hidden down in their dark depth where they can’t bother either of you.

You’re like rapids, rushing thoughts and feelings, pouring everything through the drift at him. He takes it in stride, used to the white-capped rush of information he gets from you each time you connect. Jihoon adjusts easily, already hitting buttons on his screen as images from your day flash through your mind - including you watching him make you tea in the kitchen.

Jihoon says nothing about that. He says nothing about the gentle wave of your embarrassment either as Nainsi says, “Neural handshake strong and holding.”

Chan’s voice crackles through comms. “Fang Striker on standby for neural handshake.”

“Copy. Storm Breaker prepare for drop in three… two… one.”

Dropping feels like falling through the core of the earth. For a few moments, it’s a flightless feeling as you fall through the Shatterdome. Then you land, knees absorbing impact as the head of the jaeger falls into the neck socket, locking in.

“Calibrating right side,” Jihoon announces. “Calibrated.”

“Calibrating left side. Calibrated. Ready to engage.” 

Nainsi confirms calibration and directs, “Storm Breaker, take north point defense two miles from the shoreline. Hold that line. Fang Striker, engaging in pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence in three… two… one.” 

You tune out the rest of Fang Striker’s drop as you and Jihoon behind to charge into the bay. The windshield in front of you immediately froths with sea salt and wind, battering down on the jaeger as the night sea surges against Storm Breaker’s legs. You cut through the water like a knife, carving your way toward the defense line as the jumphawk team flies into place. 

“Five minutes until surface breach.” 

“Oh! Hi, Vernon,” you chirp. 

“Sup?”

“Would kill for a coffee right now. And like, a bagel. Or hashbrowns?” 

Vernon groans. “Mood.” 

Jihoon snorts but says nothing. Minghao’s voice comes over the comms, soft and cool. “Blue, everytime I drop with you you’re talking about food.” 

“Have you considered that Ji doesn't feed me?” 

“So it’s Ji now, huh?”

“Don’t get her started,” Jihoon grunts at Minghao’s teasing. “One mile out from the line of defense.”

Chan joins the conversation, voice chipper. “Fang Striker ready to pursue. Also, good morning everyone!” 

Everyone groans in misery collectively instead of greeting him back. Wylie’s voice cracks like a whip as she spits out, “Be nice to him.” 

Everyone greets Chan after that. Jihoon shakes his head, amused. “Fang Striker, escort Emperor’s Mandate to engage. Four minutes until surface breach.” 

Black ocean ripples outward in front of Storm Breaker as you move. You near the defense line, the city lights like a sea of stars at Storm Breaker’s back. Air support circles overhead, monitoring kaiju activity and helping with positioning. You see the spotlights glinting on the surface, waiting for a kaiju to surface. 

To the east of your position, Fang Striker and Emperor’s Mandate cut through the water. Fang Striker’s red paint is violent against the night, but her build is small next to the towering white fury of Minghao and Junhui’s jaeger. 

“Storm Breaker in position,” Jihoon calls. You both stop moving, your jaeger coming to a standstill as the water sloshes around your waist. 

“Standby, Storm Breaker. Kaiju breach in one minute.” 

“Emperor’s Mandate and Fang Striker in position. Ready to engage.” 

“Engage at your discretion.” 

Comms go silent as the strike team waits for the kaiju to appear. It’s the calm before the storm, the silence pregnant with tension. You feel a tentative brush of Jihoon’s thoughts against you. You turn and glance at him, surprised. 

Jihoon is watching you with a stormy expression, thoughtful. “You thinking about letting me in that big ass head of yours?” You tease, just in your personal comms. 

He smirks and shakes his head, breaking eye contact to look out the front of Storm Breakers cockpit. “Not a chance.” 

It’s a lie. You know it's a lie because you feel it is as sure as you feel your own glittering satisfaction that he’s thinking about it. That Jihoon is considering opening the door for you, even a fraction. 

Your satisfaction only lasts a second as the kaiju breaches the surface in front of Emperor’s Mandate and Fang Striker. You watch in strained silence as the jumphawk team begins reporting what they can about the makeup of the kaiju.

Emperor’s Mandate engages immediately, their metal saber chain shooting from the right arm and punching through the shoulder of the kaiju. An electromagnetic pulse goes down the chain and it goes taught like a sword as Junhui slices upward, attempting to sever the kaiju’s arm. 

The kaiju lands a hard punch to Emperor’s Mandate in the middle, sending them backward into the ocean as the chain-turned-sword pulls out as they fall. Fang Striker is there before the kaiju can attack again, charging and tackling the kaiju at the waist. She’s not built for heavy fighting, but Chan and Wylie are vicious, clawing at the kaiju with their metal claws. 

“Fang Striker, roll!” Minghao orders. Fang Stricker does, using the kaiju as weight to rock themselves over and under the creature, vanishing beneath the water’s surface as Emperor’s Mandate lands a punch to the kaiju’s back with a plasmacaster, turning the night blue as the sparks flare. “Push and we’ll pull.”

Salt spray mists the windshield as you and Jihoon watch in silence. The kaiju is a massive, hulking beast with spikes down its spine and a nasty club tail that catches Fang Striker in the knees, taking her down. The two jaeger teams work in flawless tandem, punching when the other ducks, tackling with the other falls. 

In a way, it’s beautiful to watch the fury of what a jaeger can do. Your lips twitch upward as the fight starts to go their way, Emperor’s Mandate severing the leg of the monster as Fang Striker pounces on it, sinking both clawed hands into its shoulder blades and tearing through its hide. 

“Storm Breaker-” Vernon’s panicked voice gets cut off as your world turns upside down. 

You feel yourself slam against the restraints of the Conn-pod connecting you to the jaeger. A surprised shriek escapes you as you flip head-over-feet in Storm Breaker, crashing into the ocean with a violent slam. A kaiju raises itself from the water, rearing its head like a cobra as it shrieks, the sound shaking the entire hull. 

“What the fuck?” Jihoon screams over comms. Storm Breaker rolls as the kaiju strikes like a snake, barely missing you as it hits empty water. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“There was no reading!” Vernon yells back. “The signature appeared a half second before it attacked like it had some sort of stealth mode!” 

“Kaiju don’t have fucking stealth mode, Vernon!”

“Maybe it got an iOS update man, I don’t know!” 

There’s no time to care about why or how a kaiju isn’t appearing on the reporting team’s screen. Whatever level it is, it’s fast. You and Jihoon get to your feet just as it strikes again, fangs striking at the windshield. It doesn’t crack, but the sound of kaiju bone against the glass isn’t promising.

Storm Breaker stumbles back a few steps before regaining footing. You both strike with your right fist, slamming into the neck area of the beast as it winds up to strike again. It looks like a massive cobra, coils and coils of kaiju body gathering each time it tries. 

A shudder vibrates through the jaeger as the punch lands, sending the kaiju back several hundred yards. You don’t give it a moment to recover, both of you charging as you equip short swords perfect for close-combat fighting and slicing. 

“I think it’s too fast to pick up a reading,” you shout over comms. “It moves so quickly!”

Fighting is a careful rhythm. You and Jihoon find it immediately, tuning out the sound of the other fight as you zero in on your target. It doesn’t matter that the kaiju took you by surprise, it doesn’t matter that Jihoon still hasn’t let you in, it doesn’t matter that somewhere, you have other friends in just as much danger.

What matters is this. The feeling of rage that flows from Jihoon - or maybe it’s you - as you both savagely plunge a sword in the serpent body of your enemy. What matters is the way you and Jihoon flow, two rivers with the same curves and dips, sliding around the kaiju as you strike again, spraying ichor into the sea. 

Storm Breaker’s sword extends from the right arm, reflecting the city lights briefly before you cut sideways. The blade slides clean through like a knife through paper. You and Jihoon both scream savagely in unison as the head flies separate from the body, sailing in the air for a moment before crashing into the surface as blood spurts from the main body. 

It flails for a moment longer before crashing under ocean froth and water. Victory surges through you and you look across the Conn-pod where Jihoon is grinning at you, stars in his eyes. You feel a moment of elation, laughter bubbling to your lips as Nainsi recalls you to the Dome, Emperor’s Mandate and Fang Striker standing victorious.

“That’s kill number six?” Jihoon asks, voice delighted. “We’re on a fucking roll.” 

“I guess I’m not so bad a co-pilot after all, right?” He rolls his eyes but you get the feeling the tips of his ears have turned red. “Come on, Ji. Tell me I’m a good co-pilot.”

“No way.”

“Come onnnn.”

He levels a look at you, dark eyes churning. He licks his lips, opening and closing his mouth before he finally murmurs, “Can I show you instead?” 

The left foot of Storm Breaker is yanked from under you. You go down screaming, feeling the impact of the seafloor as you go down in the shallows hard. Pain shoots up your left arm as you slam against the restraints keeping you attached to the Conn-pod. Lights flash in your heads up display and a sensor starts going off, the left arm of the jaeger going dead as it loses connection. 

Jihoon is screaming your name over comms as you grit your teeth, and gather your bearings. You suck in a sharp breath as you both scramble to get Storm Breaker on her feet. “Left arms gone cold,” Jihoon yells over comms. You manage to get Storm Breaker to her feet as you both throw out your right arm, bracing for impact as the kaiju’s head strikes again. “It grew back two fucking heads!” 

“Fang Striker pursuing!” It’s Chan voice over the comms. “Three miles out from contact.” 

One of the heads strikes at the helm again, knocking into Storm Breaker hard. Your world rocks as you shove with the full force of the right side of the jaeger, thrusters turning on as you launch the kaiju and its twin heads backward. 

“How the fuck do we kill this thing?” you screech, charging toward the creature as it slides through the water, coiling to strike again. “If we cut off its head again, it’s just going to grow another.”

“Stab it through the head? I don’t fucking know!”

Snatches of panic and anger and concern seize you for a split second, it feels like your own but you realize it’s not, Jihoon’s feelings bleeding into you like a fresh wound as you strike at the kaiju again. Its tail loops around the left leg again and Jihoon’s worry spikes, so raw and unfamiliar that when he lifts his foot, you don’t lift yours. 

Storm Breaker stalls, filled with mechanic screeching as the two of you clash in the drift in a moment of indecision. A storm of emotions batters down on you. Your lungs squeeze as you feel yourself torn away from the fight and into Jihoon’s memories, each one flitting by so fast you can barely resonate with them. 

A little boy bullied by bigger kids. A woman being torn out of a home screaming in the hand of a kaiju. The sound of Mozart drowning out the screams of destruction. Young Jihoon crying in his room alone, nursing bruised ribs and knees. Teenage Jihoon fighting back. A man named Haneul that has seen all of Jihoon’s scars. 

“... out of alignment!” 

Words crash through you as you feel a tremor go through Storm Breaker. Jihoon’s thoughts are like a hurricane tearing at your foundation. 

Hatred when he meets you for the first time. Pride when he makes his first successful drop. Grief when Haneul retired. Resentment when he’s reassigned to a new pilot. 

Jihoon screams your name but you are drowning in him. Jihoon’s emotional dam has broken and years worth of who he is comes out in a torrent.

Jihoon joins the pilot program because he wants to get away from the home. The smell of books and oil lanterns. Greasy fingers and fumes. A blue mat rushing up to meet him as he falls. 

“Emperor’s Mandate two miles out. Preparing to engage!” 

Bitter coffee. Celebrating Haneul’s birthday. The sting of Chan biting him mid spar. Pretending he didn’t hate his childhood. Hiding the scared little boy behind a controlled exterior. 

“She’s chasing the rabbit!” 

Chasing the rabbit. You hear the word and vaguely realize you’ve fallen down the rabbit hole of Jihoon’s memories and emotions, completely unused to them in a space where you’re connected intimately. You try to gather your bearings, shutting down the images flashing across your mind that don’t belong to you as Storm Breaker gets rocked again. 

“Shit,” Jihoon swears. “Blue, come on. Come back to me. I’m sorry. Don’t chase my memories!”

A kite against a blue sky. Two paper boats on a lake. Your smile as you hang upside down off the bunk bed. Soonyoung giving Jihoon a birthday cake. Wylie in a hospital bed. Jeonghan and Joshua accepting pilots of the year. 

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon whispers, both in your mind and outloud. “Come back.”

You can do this. You can withstand the storm of Jihoon’s consciousness. You shake him out of your head, sorting out your thoughts and his. It’s nearly impossible to understand where you end and he begins, but you manage to hold back the wake of his uncontrolled consciousness.

Blinking, you come back to the present. There are lights and warnings going off as Storm Breaker takes another strike from the kaiju. Fang Striker is taking on its other head, the kaiju splitting focus between two jaeger teams as it tries to split open the top of your jaeger. Wylie and Chan are yelling in comms and Emperor’s Mandate is in pursuit to help you disengage. 

The left arm of your jaeger is still cold, totally disconnected from the rest of the machinery. You run through a list of fighting options with one arm down. The right side of the jaeger is fitted with a sword, explosive and a plasma caster in the first of the hand. But the jaeger overall- 

“Light it up,” you tell Jihoon. His relief crashing into you like a tidal wave. He understands what you want to do immediately. You feel his agreement rather than see it as you both start to tap controls on your control panels. “Fang Striker, prepare for lighting strike!” 

“Fry this motherfucker!” Wylie screams. “I fucking hate snakes!”

The nuclear reactor at the core of your jaeger starts to charge. From the top down, your jaeger begins to power down, lights flickering out and screens going dead. Your heart hammers as the kaiju slams into the head of the jaeger over and over again, trying to crack the helm wide open. Storm Breaker takes the savage blows as all but the nuclear core shuts off.

A low hum begins to sound at the heart of the machine. You feel the vibration tingle in your spine as all of the energy flow focuses in the center of the jaeger, slowly charging and pulling electricity from everywhere else. It’s a slow process, the kaiju beating down on you as the core winds up. 

“Fuck,” Jihoon swears at a particularly harsh strike. “This fucking bitch!”

“We’ve got it,” you tell him. You look across the Conn-pod at him, his face pale behind the shield of his helmet. “She’s not going to break, Ji.” 

You feel your words resonate in him. His affection is startling. He hides nothing from you now, every thought he’s ever had of you, every moment his eyes lingered on you too, every second he realized he didn’t dislike you at all - it’s all there for you to see. His soul laid bare. 

“She’s ready!” Your smile is like the sun. “Light her up!” 

Jihoon hits a button on his panel and the air turns to static. A ripple of energy passes through you, only lasting a split second before a bolt of white lightning explodes from the center of the jaeger. The world turns white, forcing you to shield your eyes as you hear the crack of deafening thunder. 

Ears ringing, you lower your hand as the light fades, blue sparks of electricity zapping across the ocean in a mile-wide radius. Smoking, the kaiju falls backwards, ocean spraying up on either side as it hits the surface of the sea. You can barely hear Fang Striker over the sound of the high-pitched whine in your ears.

You wait, but the kaiju doesn’t rise again. The jumphawk team circles above, waiting for another kaiju signature, but none comes. 

Sagging in your Conn-pod, you glance over at Jihoon. “Does that count as one or two kills? I’m so fucking over monster fighting today. I want a goddamn grilled cheese.”

-

Jihoon is a wreck. Not only does he visibly hover near your medical bed as the attending medic tends to your arm, ensuring it’s not broken, but you can still feel him like he’s attached to you in the drift. His concern is touching, but there’s also anger there. Not at you but at himself, boiling under the surface of his newfound worry. 

“So she’ll be okay?” he clarifies again, looking at the doctor with a hard stare. The man tending to your arm looks nervous under the sharp gaze of a jaeger pilot. “You’re sure it’s not broken? It better not be broken.”

“Jihoon,” you say gently. He crosses his arms over his chest, not taking his eyes off the doctor as he stares him down. “I’m fine. It’s just some bruising.”

“Just some bruising. Your arm practically fell off.”

“It did not. Let the doctor finish, Ji.”

He softens, turning to sit on an empty cot as he sulks. You watch him with muted amusement. His bottom lip juts out slightly, put out by you not letting him baby you. Cute, you think. 

Thankfully, the arm isn’t damaged. You’d bruised it pretty severely when Storm Breaker went down and you slammed against your restraints, but otherwise you’re unharmed. Some pain meds, ice and rest should do the trick, so you and Jihoon leave the medical bay with the doctor’s advice in hand and Jihoon muttering under his breath.

Back in your room, Jihoon sits you on his bottom bunk to examine the arm himself, holding you carefully as though he can break you at any moment. You let him have this, watching as his eyebrows crease and mouth twists while he rotates your arm delicately.

He has pretty hands. You’ve always thought so, but now you watch his slender fingers brush over your sore arm with care, feeling a shiver threaten the base of your spine. 

“You should ask for a reassignment.” Jihoon’s words land like a brick. You look up at him, eyes flashing with confusion. “I nearly killed you today. It was unprofessional and shameful as your co-pilot to knock you out of alignment like that. You don’t deserve that.”

“It happens, Jihoon. Fighting in a jaeger isn’t always perfect.”

“Well I am. And today I wasn’t. Request a new pilot, the Marshall will understand. People don’t last with me, it’ll be no risk to you.”

“I’m not requesting a new pilot. You’re who I want to drift with.”

He starts to pace. “Why? I’m obviously still that scared little boy who used to hide in his room alone.” 

Even without having felt his emotions in the drift, Jihoon makes so much more sense to you now. You reach out to him, taking him by the arms to stop his pacing. He won’t look at you, averting his eyes elsewhere. Your heart squeezes knowing that the reason Jihoon kept you out is because he didn’t want you to see who he was before he was the controlled, perfect jaeger pilot. 

“You’re not, Jihoon.” You squeeze his arm to emphasize your words. “But even if you were, I trust that little boy too. He was empathetic and kind.” Jihoon glances at you, unsure. “Don’t run away from me now that you’ve let me in. I’ve seen you and I still want you. Unless you don’t want me.”

“Of course I do.”

“It’s hard to tell with you, you know?”

His gaze drops down to your mouth. “I’ll show you, then.” 

Without another word, Jihoon grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him fully. Your arms slip around his neck, holding onto him for balance as he crashes his mouth to yours. His lips are warm and soft in contrast to the ferocity he kisses you with, fingers digging into your hips, mouth hungry. 

You meet him with equal fervor, fingers tangling in the long hair at the nape of his neck. He grunts when your nails scratch against his scalp, biting into your lower lip. He presses his tongue to the seam of your mouth and you let him in, sighing as his tongue brushes against yours, eager to taste you.

Kissing Jihoon is like standing in the eye of a storm. He’s brutal and calm, sharp and soft. His heart beats against yours, his chest heaving when he pulls away from your mouth to press wet kisses to the shape of your jaw and down your throat.

One of Jihoon’s hands slides up your back, fingers dancing along your spine until he reaches the base of your neck. He grabs you firmly, pulling your head back to give him better access to the softness of your throat. You let out a breathy sound and he groans low in his throat. 

“Don’t make that sound,” he whispers, biting your neck gently and chasing the sting with his tongue. “I’ll fucking crumble.” 

“So crumble.” 

“Fuck.”

Jihoon starts pushing you backward, your steps a tangle of feet. It might be the most uncoordinated the two of you have ever been, caught up in the heat of each other’s mouths as he kisses you feverishly again. It’s messy and spit-slicked, making you light headed. Your knees hit his bottom bunk and you crash backward, Jihoon on top of you. 

Your hands seek the warmth of his skin, sliding under the hem of his shirt over his flexing stomach to his firm chest. He lets you rake your nails across him as he settles on top of you, his hands planted on either side of your head and a knee slotted between your legs. 

Having him this close is everything. Months of not being able to have him entirely or the way you want has made you ravenous for him. You pull at his shirt, nipping at his lip and whining. He laughs darkly, leaning up from you to grab the back of his shirt and pull it up over his head. 

He lets you do what you want, content to let you run your fingers over the ridges of his stomach, the narrow shape of his waist, the firmness of his chest. He dives back down to attach his mouth to your collarbone, pulling the neckline of your shirt out of the way for access.

“Just take it off,” you complain, shivering as he continues his assault.

“Mmmf - difficult.”

This is not the composed Jihoon you’re used to. This is the raw, unedited version of him you’ve been begging to see. This is the storm letting loose because he knows you can take it - want to take it.

Jihoon does get tired of your shirt, growling as he grabs it firmly and tears it up and over your head. You laugh as he does, loving the way he scowls and presses you back down, biting your jaw as he does. He palms your tits over your bra, pinching your nipples through the fabric. You squeal and arch into him, head pressing into the mattress.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he huffs, mouth trailing butterfly-soft kisses toward your chest. 

“Sensitive?” you jest, dropping a hand between your bodies to press against the front of his pants. He hisses, hips twitching as you press against his cock. You grin wickedly as he pants raggedly against your skin, letting you squeeze him. “Yeah, you are.” 

Jihoon drags his knee up the bed, pressing between your legs. A bolt of pleasure surges through you and you whimper, making him smirk against your chest. “What was that?” 

“Nothing.”

He drops a hand down to your waist, squeezing. “Didn’t sound like nothing. Come on,” he urges. “You know you want to.” 

So you do. You roll your hips forward, pressing your clothed cunt against his thigh. The layers of clothes block too much of the sensation and you press harder, desperate for stimulation. A whine drips from your mouth as you grow frustrated. You feel the curve of Jihoon’s smile against the curve of your left breast as he places a wet kiss there. 

“Having a hard time?”

“Jihoon.”

One hand stays fixed on your hips, urging you to continue to grind into him despite it not being enough. The other slides up your front, his fingers light as feathers. He hooks a finger in the cup of your bra and pulls downward. He drags his mouth downward, giving your nipple a playful flick with his tongue. 

“Jihoon.” 

He hums thoughtfully, circling your pert bud with his tongue. A tremor goes through you and you squeeze your eyes shut. He closes his mouth on you and sucks gently, making you gasp. You continue to roll your hips into him as he scrapes his teeth against you gently. 

Cool air hits your spit-slicked chest as he kisses sloppily over to your other breast, repeating his ministrations. It feels so good you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. His skin is hot against yours and you’re desperate to feel more of him, hands pulling at his shoulders as he sucks wet marks into your chest. 

“More,” you whisper. “God, please more.” 

He knows what you mean when you say more because of course he does. He rids you of your bra entirely, throwing it somewhere else in the room. He works the buttons on your pants next, deft fingers moving quickly before tugging them down your thighs. He lets you pull his cargos down and throw them, but it’s as far as you get before he’s lavishing attention to your tits again. 

“Try now,” he pants. 

His knee is pressed right against the apex of your thighs. You don’t care that he can feel the damp cloth against his skin. You slow grind on his knee, feeling the pressure infinitely better with just a thin layer of underwear between you. A sigh of relief escapes you and he grunts, pleased as you keep going, thighs shaking. 

You could drown in him and not care. He smells like spearmint and soap, his hair soft as silk as it slides between your fingers. He gives a sound of approval everytime you card your hands through his hair, especially when he gives you a sharp bite and you tug. 

A tingle settles in the depth of your stomach. You feel like you could almost come this way, getting off with just his leg between your thighs and his mouth sucking greedily at your tits. You feel yourself tighten, hips pressing further but it’s not quite enough.

He reads you like a book. Jihoon slides his knee back and replaces it with his hand, fingers delicately pressing against your clit. It makes you see stars, going rigid in his grasp as he gently circles it a few times before dragging his fingers back down to press at your core through your underwear. 

“So god damn wet,” he lets go of your nipple with a pop. He hooks a finger through your underwear and pulls them to the side, his knuckles brushing your sticky folds. “So pretty for me.” 

His compliment makes you shy. You hide your face behind your hands and he laughs darkly, letting you. He’s already seen all of you in the drift, but this is different. More personal. Real. 

The press of a finger into your cunt is slow and maddening. You immediately want more, desperate for it. He doesn’t give it to you right away, taking his time as he busies his mouth with your chest and neck, content to finger fuck you at a leisurely pace. 

When he hooks his finger and presses right into that soft spot, you seize up. He grins, finding exactly what he was looking for. His mouth catches yours again, a tangle of tongue and teeth as he presses another finger in. You squirm against the mattresses, pinned under his weight. The heel of his hand presses into your clit, adding pressure as he strokes your front walls rhythmically. 

You’re greedy for him. You suck his tongue into your mouth and he moans, letting you do what you want. The wet squelch of his hand between your legs only spurs you on, his name dripping from your lips in a whine as you cling to him, feeling the start of your orgasm.

Jihoon knows it’s coming. His pace is more intent and he shuffles up the bed to get a better angle. Your toes curl and you writhe against the sheets, feeling the way they stick to your balmy skin as he works you closer and closer to an orgasm. 

He presses a soft kiss under your ear, chaste compared to the mess he makes of your cunt. “Come on,” his voice is husky and gentle. “Let go for me.”

It’s his for me that sends you over the edge. Your legs squeeze around his hand but he keeps at it, pressing tender kisses to your collarbones as you twitch under his touch. Your orgasm starts to wane and turn into overstimulation, your panting turning into whimpering, nails digging into the back of his neck, unsure if you’re trying to push him away or keep him there.

Jihoon retracts his hand slowly. You feel the way you drip down the curve of your ass as you pant, staring up at the bottom of your bunk trying to gulp down air. He nudges his nose against your jaw, bringing your attention back to the present as his dark eyes look up at you.

Your voice comes out rough from use. “Want you.”

The corner of his mouth lifts and he nods, lifting himself off you to let you peel your underwear the rest of the way down as he works his briefs down his thighs. You let out a squeak when you look up to see him using the cum on his fingers to stroke himself, head tilted back a little, eyes heavy. 

“What?” he murmurs, dropping his gaze down to you. His eyes are fucked out just from getting you off and it drives you insane, this visual of him blotchy with warmth, hair sticking to his forehead.

“You’re so hot,” you blurt and he pauses, raising a brow at you. “Don’t stop.” 

“You like when I touch myself in front of you?” You nod, chewing on your lip as you stare. He grins and starts stroking himself slowly again, squeezing his flushed tip as he does, beads of precum dripping over the edge. “I’ll give you a show later. If I don’t fuck you in the next five minutes I will nut in my hand.” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t hate it.” 

“Oh? You want me to cum in my hand instead of that pretty pussy?” You purse your lips, staring back at him with a pout. “Didn’t think so.” He laughs and shuffles on his knees toward you, shaking his head and groaning when your legs fall open automatically for him, revealing the mess he’s made. “Can’t believe I made myself wait for this.” 

“How stupid of you.”

Your stomach flutters when Jihoon lowers himself, cockhead pressing at your entrance. You ache for him - in more ways than one. Jihoon feels it too, hanging his head and letting his hair cascade around his face like a silvery halo as he slowly presses in. 

His name falls from your mouth as you gasp, feeling the pressure of him as he sinks into your cunt slowly. You feel full and overwhelmed and perfect all at once, a myriad of feelings peppering your senses until he’s fully sheathed to the hilt. 

Jihoon’s breathing is ragged for a moment as you clench around him, throbbing. He sucks in air sharply between his teeth, one hand going to your hip to press you into the mattress while the other lands next to your head, bearing his weight. 

“Thank you for waiting for me.” You almost don’t hear him when he says it, his voice so soft. “When you didn’t have to.”

Your arms loop around his neck, pulling him closer. His nose brushes against yours and you feel your adoration for him grow. “Of course I did. You were meant for me.” 

Prompted by your words, he nods and pulls his hips back slowly. The glide is easy with how wet you are. He thrusts back in with a hard snap, stealing your breath. The ability to string together coherent words vanishes as Jihoon sets a punctuated space. 

“Fuck,” you whisper. 

Fuck is right. Jihoon angles his hips perfectly, kissing your spot with each thrust with a deadly precision you’ve only seen in battle. Of course he fucks like he fights with absolute accuracy, driving you right toward an orgasm within a few minutes. Your fingers tangle in your hair, mouth pressed against his forehead where it rests against you. 

His hand slides from your hips to your thigh, slipping under it and hiking it upward. It deepens the angle and you let out a loud sound, unable to catch your breath as sparks fly behind your eyelids.

“Holy shit, like that.” You’re a mess under him and he knows it, driving his hips faster as you continue to fall apart. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“Yeah?” he asks, almost taunting. “Gonna come like this?”

“Yes, please don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps going, driving you to the edge until you’re coming around him with enough force to knock heads with him. He mumbles something that sound like ouch but you’re too far gone, squeezing the fucking life out of him as you come before going boneless. 

Jihoon pulls out and flips you, your world spinning as you land face first in his pillows. They smell like him and you love it, sliding your hands up to grip at the pillows as he drags your knees up, ass toward him. Sweat slicks your back and you try to take in a few ragged breaths, turning your head to the side to watch him sidelong. 

His dark eyes dip to your ass and he curses, shifting backward so that he can lean down, hands prying your thighs apart to make way for his tongue as it slides up your pussy. 

“Oh shit,” you wheeze. 

He practically purrs against you, tongue licking slowly back and forth. The grip on his pillows tightens, one of your hands shooting back to grab his hair, holding him to you. He laughs, the vibration going straight through you as he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking over it. 

“I love when you pull my hair,” he admits, panting as he takes a breath. 

His tongue dives back in, pressing against your clenching hole. It is maddening the way he works you with his mouth. You feel like you’re coasting to another high. He knows exactly what to do, knows when to slow down, knows when to speed up. Jihoon has had access to you for months and it shows, navigating your body like it’s second nature to him.

“I’m gonna come again.” It comes out as a whine, fingers twisting in his locks. “Shit.”

“So come again.” 

You do. It’s not as hard as the first one but it’s just as good, your orgasm shivering through you. Warmth floods you and you bite into his pillow, muting the loud sound that spills from your lips. 

Jihoon doesn’t give you a second to recover before he’s up on his knees and pushing back into you. His hand cracks across your ass and you let out a startled yelp, earning laughter from both of you. Spent and delirious, your hand finds purchase on his wrist, holding on to him as he fucks you fast and hard. 

He lets go of where he holds your hip to lace your fingers instead, pressing your linked fingers against the curve of your ass as he drills his hips forward. Somehow the hand holding is more intimate, your throat screwing shut as Jihoon chases after his own high.

With a muted murmur of your name, he comes. His thrusts turn messy, each press of his hips against your ass met with a wet sound. You don’t even care about the slick running down your legs, absolutely spent and sweaty and tired and a little in love with the man behind you.

Slowly, he lets go of your hand. You drop your arm to the mattress, suddenly aware of the ache in your shoulder at the angle. Instead of pulling out, Jihoon leans forward, pressing his sweaty chest to your back, mouth brushing softly against your shoulders. 

“Thank you.” 

You’re so close to sleep that you barely register what he’s saying. “For what?”

“Withstanding the storm,” he laughs. “Withstanding me and waiting me out.”

“You’re worth it.”

“I hope so. I want to be.” 

With care, he detangles himself from you. You make a pitiful sound and he tuts at you, rolling you over on your back so that he can see your face. His eyes swim with more affection than you’ve ever seen, kick starting your heart. You lift a hand and tuck his bangs behind his ear, fingers lingering to brush across his cheek.

“So I’m kind of like your Storm Breaker, right?” 

He groans. “Don’t start.”

“What? You literally just said I withstood the storm or whatever.” 

“Come on, we’re showering.” 

“No way, I am not moving right now.”

“You are not sleeping covered in cum.”

“Ji,” you whine. 

He grins and kisses your head, getting out of bed. “Come on then, storm breaker. Withstand me a little more.” 

-

Also in this Universe: Cherry Bomb by @daechwitatamic

-

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*If you requested a tag but don't see it here, it did not let me tag you!

[sanguineterrain]

im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!

thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3

jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.

read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Go home."

"Bruce, I—"

Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.

The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.

"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."

You take a step back at his coldness.

"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"

"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."

But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.

He'd felt safe.

"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."

That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.

"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."

"But if you would just listen—"

"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."

"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.

"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."

You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.

You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.

You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.

****

It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.

In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.

But not at the expense of civilian lives.

"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."

You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.

You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.

You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.

The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.

You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.

You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.

Oh, of all the fucking—

"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.

"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"

You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.

And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.

"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"

Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.

"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"

A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"

Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."

He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.

"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."

He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"

Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.

But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.

He was in the factory to help.

Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.

Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.

You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."

"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."

"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."

"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"

You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.

But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.

Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.

You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.

You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.

You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.

That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.

Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.

Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.

"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.

"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"

"She was unconscious, J'y..."

Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.

****

You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.

For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.

Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.

So who's cooking?

You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.

Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.

The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.

The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.

He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.

The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.

You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.

He catches it without turning.

Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.

A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.

"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."

"Why are you in my apartment?"

Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.

This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.

He sighs, back still facing you.

"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.

"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."

Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.

"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."

Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.

He turns around.

The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.

You were right: Batman was wrong.

[trumanbluee]

word count: 1.2k

thinking about you finally getting wade to go out with you in public as himself, no mask or deadpool suit, no wigs, no nothing. just him.

maybe he's taking you out to dinner. you're wearing your pretty dress that you know he loves, and he's dressed up a bit too, maybe in a button down (that he'd asked you to iron, saying he wasn't "built for that" -- whatever that means), but still wearing his 'comfort hoodie', as he liked to call it.

you're giddy, a grin plastered on your face as you walk with your left hand entwined in wade's right, your arm wrapped around his as you sway your hands back and forth.

but, of course, some people just have to be assholes, and a group of men walk past you two, a few of them whistling lowly at you, causing you to grip onto wade's hand tighter and press yourself into him, before their attention is turned to him.

they all burst into a chorus of laughter, and one of them blurts out, "..shit, man! what did you do to score a babe like this," the man gestures to you, smiling sickeningly, "what's wrong with your face, dude? you got fuckin' cancer or something?"

and suddenly wade's smile and cheerfulness is gone, replaced by shame and anxiety as he pulls the hood of his jumper up, tightening the drawstrings.

he speaks in the quietest little voice you've ever heard, "...yeah".

your heart breaks, your cheeks pink with anger as you try and ignore the men, though they keep walking next to you as you try and walk away, squeezing wade's hand.

you stop in your tracks as you hear more comments being made amongst the men, dropping wade's hand and pointing your finger at them accusingly, and you just start tearing fucking strips off of them.

you spit words of anger at the men, shouting "who the fuck raised you?", before you feel wade grabbing at your waist from behind, trying to pull you away as you furiously berate the men until they walk away, tails between their legs.

you turn back to wade, cheeks red and breathes heavy, but your face softens when you look at him.

"..can we please just.. go home?" wade murmurs from beneath his hoodie, and your heart shatters even more. you nod, grabbing his hand and squeezing softly as you begin to walk back to your apartment.

when you get home, wade heads straight to the bedroom. you follow close behind, after taking your shoes and coat off, seeing him sitting on the bed, holding a pillow to his chest.

you sit on the bed near his feet, unlacing his sneakers and tossing them over near the closet.

"m'sorry you had to deal with that, baby." you speak softly.

at the same time, he says, "i'm sorry i look like this."

your brows furrow as your brain comprehends what he's said, and you feel the sudden urge to burst into tears. you crawl up the bed, straddling his waist and prying his hands off of where they rest on his face, holding his face in your hands as your thumbs brush over the skin of his cheeks.

"..baby," your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, "look at me."

he does, and you can see the tears glossing his eyes, though he's got the hoodie pulled so tightly that you can barely see his face.

"don't ever say that, okay?" you take your hands off of his cheeks to push the hoodie off of his head, exposing his face to you, before returning your hands to his cheeks.

"i love you, wade... so fucking much." you press a quick kiss to wade's lips, before pressing one to his nose, "you are so handsome, baby."

you use the pointer finger of your left hand to softly trace the jagged skin of wade's face, the grooves familiar under your touch.

you lean forward, pressing soft kisses all over wade's face. a kiss to his right cheek leaves a salty wetness on your lips, and you pull away to see that he's let his tears fall, his lips turning down at the corners.

"i know you're lying to try and make me feel better, but thanks princess," wade's typical self-deprecating tone cuts through the air.

"baby, m'serious" you coo, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him forward, into your chest. you rub his back soothingly, pressing soft kisses to the top of his head, before pulling him back, holding his face in your hands.

he looks up at you, searching your eyes for anything that says you're lying, that you agree with the men on the street, that he's as gross as he thinks he is. but he comes up empty, instead taken by the sheer adoration and love that you gaze at him with.

"do you really think i'd be with someone ugly? im ridiculously shallow, you know this about me." you joke lightly, continuing to trace your fingers over the skin on his face.

you're smiling down at him, thumbs softly rubbing the tear streaks on his cheeks away before you lean forward to press your lips to his. he melts into the kiss, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair, pulling you deeper into him.

you pull away, sliding down on his lap so that you can rest your head on his chest. you lie, listening to his heartbeat and moving slowly up and down with his breaths. you're holding his hands to your chest, pressing soft kisses to his knuckles and joints.

"i wish you saw yourself how i see you," you murmur against his skin, squeezing his hands between yours. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, but doesn't reply.

on your next date night, wade insists you two go out, despite your uncertainty after last time.

"baby, i don't want to force you out of your comfort zone," you say as wade drags you up off the couch, pushing you to the bedroom where he's laid out the dress he wants you to wear tonight. you can't help but smile at the image of him trying to find you an outfit that you'd like.

"doll-face, c'mon, just get dressed okay? i appreciate your concern but... i wanna go out and show off my beautiful girlfriend, yeah? show everyone that someone with a face like this," he gestures to himself, making a silly face, " can score a babe like this," and he points to you, quoting the men on the street from the last time you'd gone out.

you can't help but giggle, your heart swelling with pride and adoration as you walk over and press a kiss to wade's cheek. he's grinning, in a button up and jeans, and you notice that he hasn't got the hoodie on.

when you get home later that night, after getting into your pajamas and cuddling up in bed, bellys full of your favourite food and ice cream from the parlour down the street, you point out he's lack of hoodie, and wade smiles, taking your hand and bringing it up to his mouth.

"i've come to realise, my beautiful pookie-bear, that i actually do not give a fuck what other people think. you're the only one that matters to me, and now i know i've got you to absolutely obliterate anyone who even dares make fun of my ugly mug, anyway."

you scold him for his word choice, but your heart swells anway.

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

taglist: @tvwebs @muteprincess @blckbarbiedoll @dwthisuserisalive @catts-world @helpyourself-9 @tiredemzz @starstruckracc @imcrying24 @aintsoprettynow @thedevilsaysthings @darerlin @tokkiwrites

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Mine

《Part 3 for The Meetup

《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《Summary: After your successful first date, you and Eddie continue seeing each other. Things start getting more serious between the two of you.

《Warnings: fluff, smut, 90s!Eddie, mention of death but its not detailed, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, slight mocking, some size kink if you squint, spanking, dirty talk, fingering, thigh riding, cum swapping Use of a bass amp to get off. Voyeurism, cockwarming. Masturbation (male) oral (female receiving) orgasm denial. If I missed anything, please let me know nicely.

Word count: 13k

A/n: Please reblog, like, and leave a comment to support. Not proofread. Ignore any mistakes you come across.

Disclaimer: Please read parts 1 & 2 to understand the rest of the story. I also mention his mom in this part, but I wrote it way before the book spoilers were even released.

Mini series masterlist

18+ minors dni

Eddie decided he wanted to surprise you at work the very next morning after your "conversation" together. He really wanted things to progress and work out between the two of you. While you both barely know each other, there is a connection that he's been dying to have with someone for a long time. He also just really wanted to see you again before you came to his shows.

He walked through the glass door, ringing the bell, and smirked when you saw you with a customer. Eddie really loved how cute you looked in your work uniform. He overheard the customer you were dealing with at the moment complaining about how his coffee tasted too fresh. Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean he thought. Eventually, the guy gave up and just snatched up his coffee and walked away. Eddie muttered asshole under his breath as the guy was walking past him.

After the man left, you still didn't notice Eddie walking up to the counter. You threw your head down, wanting this day to be over with already. You were trying to remain as calm as possible.

"Can I get a basic vanilla latte?" He asked, clearing his throat to grab your attention.

You recognize that voice immediately and look up to see him standing there. He was once again wearing black jeans and a muscle tee with his bands faded logo on the front. His tattooed arms on full display, and you can tell he shaved this morning. "Oh, what are you doing here?"

"Well I need coffee....and I wanted to see you." He smiled, showing off his dimples.

"Also, i couldn't stop thinking about our little talk last night." He continued wiggling his brows.

You can already feel your face getting warm at the mention of what you two did.

"Shhh!, we can't talk about that..not here." You scolded him, eyes widening in panic.

"Okay fine fine not here... but I do need that latte." He leaned over a little to whisper. That cocky smirk replacing the boyish one he had just moments ago.

You put in his order and tried to busy yourself. Not paying him too much attention, as he seemed to be extra playful today. He definitely came by to poke at you a little after what you did for him. You normally wouldn't have minded if the two of you were alone together. But you are at work, and most of the customers are people from your shared campus. The thought of one of them overhearing what you and him got up to would haunt you forever.

He watched you running around behind the counter, trying to seem busier than you actually were. "So I also wanted to ask maybe if you wanna come to my place after work?"

You pause instantly when he mentions going to his place. Did you just hear him correctly? Go to his place? You must have been making a face because he quickly added on.

"We can watch a movie, and I dunno talk." He's brown eyes looking into yours, almost pleading for you to say yes. You don't know how he does it. One moment, he's sexy and confident. Then next he's shy and bashful his cheeks alway gave him away. They would turn a crimson red when he got put on the spot. You can tell this sort of thing is pretty out of his comfort zone, but he's trying his best to change that.

"Yeah sure uhh I have to go home first, though."

You moved to pick up his coffee and hand it to him when his order was finally called. "I get off at six o'clock."

"I can pick you up from your place at around seven then. It's not a problem." He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.

Eddie started making his way to the door when you spoke up. "I don't get a terrible pun?"

He stops and turns to turns to you.

"I'm saving my best ones for tonight. " He said with a wink before exiting the coffee shop.

You watched the clock on the wall like a hawk. Counting down every minute to every second like a mad woman. Were you nervous to go over to his place? Yes. But you also were excited to go and actually hang out with him. You know he invited you to watch his band perform, but hanging out in his home felt more intimate. No one else would have his attention it would just be the two of you alone.

Once that large hand hit six, you were booking it out of there and racing home to get ready. Eddie had told you he'd pick you up by seven, so that gave you almost an hour to get yourself together. You showered and changed into some more comfortable clothes. Your roommate is still out of town, and you thanked God for that. You knew the moment she saw you racing around your house, there would be a million questions thrown your way.

You looked at the clock sitting on your dresser and it read 6:58 pm. You don't know know how punctual Eddie is as a person just yet. You stared at the clock some more, and each minute that passed felt like forever. Your heart thumps in your chest as you patiently wait for the sound of his van. When it finally turned 7pm and there still was no Eddie in sight, you started to worry a little. What if he forgot to pick you up? He never said this was a date, so maybe he decided to do something else.

7:20pm

The clock in big bold red letters reads.

You were really starting to think he wasn't going to show. Until you heard the familiar loud sound of his motor pulling up out front. You made a quick dash for the front door, grabbing your purse. Eddie wasn't even on the last step yet before you're meeting him on your front porch. "Someone is a little eager to leave."

"Oh well I..my roommate is gonna be home soon, and I didn't want her asking a thousand questions." You lied. You'd never tell him that you've actually been sitting on your bed biting at your nails watching the time go by.

"Understandable. Sorry I'm late by the way I was cleaning up my place for you." He moves his arm hooking it around yours, helping you down the stairs.

"No, it's fine. I was busy getting ready anyways," you lied again.

Eddie opened the passenger side door to his van as you got in. Jogging over the driver side, Eddie hops in to sit on the plush blue seat. This is the second time you've rode in his van, and the first time, you actually paid attention to the details. His seats were a soft blue material. He had various band stickers littering the dashboard.

The back was empty except for a few cords thrown here and there. You would guess this is what he used to pack his band equipment in. His gear shift had a silver skull with fang like teeth and red jewels for eyes. You can tell he took a lot of care and put a lot of time into his vehicle.

"How was work after I left?" He asked, turning down his music.

"It was fine a little boring but not too bad." You shrug, playing with a loose thread of your pullover.

"I hope you like scary movies because I picked out a couple from block buster." His hand moves from the gear shift to give your thigh a quick squeeze. "I love scary movies."

"Good, I got us Evil Dead 2, Halloween 4, and The Fog." He made a turn down a street you're not familiar with, but notice it's not far from your home or campus. "You pick first."

"Uh, I wanna watch The Fog first, then Halloween 4." You said, noticing the van slowing down and pulling into a parking lot of an apartment complex.

The van comes to a complete stop, and Eddie turns to unhook your seat belt. He jumps out of the driver side to open up your door, helping you out. Putting a hand to the small of your back, guiding you to the main entrance. He opens the door for you to step in first.

"Welcome to my castle." He jested with a bow.

You giggled as you made your past him to enter the building. He puts a hand to the small of your back again as he guides you up the stairs. It didn't take long before you and him were at his apartment door. His place only is just two flights up. Pulling out his keys from his leather jacket, he unlocked the door and bowed for you to enter again.

You step in and notice right away that he has tons of music equipment around. To the right of you is a large TV set on a stand facing his couch. His home is dark and cozy with dragon and skull statues almost everywhere. Metal band posters framed on his wall and black curtains covering his windows. You notice a few personal framed pictures on the wall by his TV.

There is one of him and an older man with a gray beard. A picture of him in front of a playing table with what you assumed were his friends. There was one picture that stood out the most to you. It was smaller than the rest and pretty faded. There was a woman smiling with long dark curly hair holding a very happy toddler wrapped in a towel. You can only guess that must be his mother. He also had a gold locket hanging off the frame. You wanted to ask him about the photos, specifically that one, but decided against it. There could he some not so great memories you dont want to bring up.

Eddie was digging around for the movies when he noticed you staring at his pictures.

"That's my uncle wayne." He walked up behind you, pointing at the man with the grey beard.

"And this is my old DnD club."

He reached over, taking the picture off the wall to give you a better look. "See, this is Jeff, Gareth, and Grant, who are also my band mates."

He continues on now pointing at the younger kids in the picture. "This is Henderson, who is a little shit might I add. Then we have Lucas, Erica, and Mike."

He puts the picture back on wall and turns to set up his TV and VCR.

"What about this one?" You point at the faded picture of a woman and baby. Instantly cringing when you opened your big mouth.

"That's me and my Mom." He smiles fondly at the mention of her. "She passed when I was little."

"I'm sorry, Eddie." You feel guilty for even asking.

He looks up at you. "Wanna hear the story about how I first got arrested?"

"Oh, um, sure."

He clears his throat and puts a tape in his VCR.

"Well, I was about 16, and I had just got my first guitar. So I went to her grave because I wanted to show her. I saved up all of my money that summer, too. I was working at this mechanic shop and then did little tedious jobs around town for some extra cash. Eddies smiling, but there is some sadness behind his eyes.

"So I go to her grave and pull out my guitar and brag about how I paid for it all on my own. I laid back against her headstone and strummed away on the cords. I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I knew, I was in handcuffs getting put in a police car." His eyes getting glassy at the memory. You can see he's fighting back tears.

Clearing his throat again, "and that's how I got arrested."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring anything up." You apologized as guilt was eating away at you. "Nah, it's okay. I like talking about her."

"Any who you ready to watch this movie and eat?" He exclaimed, clapping his hands wanting to change the topic.

You nod feeling a little relieved he doesn't seem upset you asked about his Mom. He runs to the kitchen to pull out two pizza boxes from his oven and sets them down on the coffee table. He gets the movie started and turns off most of the lights except for in the kitchen. You and Eddie sit back on the couch with his arm draped around you. You lean close against him to get comfy as the main title starts to roll.

There was tension again and the not bad kind either. The same kind that was present when you were together in his van on your first date. Eddie kept glancing down at you as you tried to put all of your focus in the movie. You felt his fingertips brush your skin underneath your pullover. You looked up at him and noticed his attention on the screen. He was playing innocent. It was an innocent little touch at first, but he wanted to slowly work you up.

His fingers tracing light patterns as they slowly inched their way to the waistband of your tights. His eyes still focused on the movie when you looked back up. He seemed like he didn't notice you watching him, but he did. A devilish smirk appears on his face when he sees you squirm. He inches his fingers further until they are playing with the elastic of your panties. He pulls and snaps the band back against your hip.

You try to remain focused on the movie playing in front of you. He seemed like he wasn't really aware of what he was currently doing to you. His eyes haven't left the tv since he pressed play from what you can tell. You felt his hand dipping lower and lower into your tights. His hand almost cupping your sex. You're breathing heavier, anticipating for him to keep going further down. You feel a finger trace up your slit brushing over your clit. You let out a small gasp and try to remain calm. You look back up at him and notice his eyes remain forward. You turn back to the TV, and he chuckles to himself, watching you wriggle next to him.

You spread your legs a little wider, giving him more access. He took the opportunity to rub across your clit once more before moving your panties to side. His middle finger dipped down to your opening. He groans a low hum when he feels how wet you already are for him. Your breathing increases. You want him to keep touching you. He looks down at you for moments and notices how tight you're squeezing his leg.

He bends down to whisper in your ear. "Come sit in my lap, baby."

His breath tickled your neck.

You dont hesitate not for one second. You immediately moved to lay back on his lap, letting one leg hang off the side of the couch. You can feel his hard length pressing into the curve of your ass. His hand dipped down in your panties to glide his fingers between your wet folds. You whine, laying your head on his shoulder. "I know, baby. I know. God, you're so wet already."

"Keep going." You gasp when you felt one of his fingers press on your aching clit.

"Gonna make you feel so good tonight."

Your legs already trembling, and he's barely touched you.

"I can't wait to get you all messy." He grunted when he felt you shift in his lap. Your ass grinding against him. His cock painfully hard in his jeans it's just begging to be set free.

"Shit..take these off." He pulled at your tights.

You moved to yank them down to your ankles and kicking the tights off. Your slick already soaking through the lace material of your panties. He hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls them off you almost tearing the fabric. You're completely naked from the waist down.

You feel his middle finger dip down again and tease at your entrance. Adding another, he pushes them in, splitting you open. His fingers lazily pumping inside you. Your slick dripping down, making a small wet patch on his leg. Your clit throbbing at Eddie's continued neglect. You can't take it anymore. You move your hand slowly to rub languid circles around your sensitive bud. "Fuck that's it play with yourself."

"You're so fucking hot." He nips at your earlobe watching as your and his hand works on your pussy.

His fingers plunging deep and harder inside you. Your breathing ragid as you writhe on his lap. Your moans mix with sounds of terror blaring from his TV. You're sure his neighbors are used to it. He curved his middle and index to massage that sweet spot on your walls.

"You like that, sweetheart? " He cooed in your ear.

"Mmm!, yes!" You moan.

You can feel him smile against your neck biting down on the skin. His fingers picking up the pace as they plunge deeper inside you. Your walls getting spread open by his thick digits. Rubbing your clit faster as you feel a tightness building up in your core. Your release approaching you much too soon. Your pussy making the loudest wet sounds as Eddie's fingers spread you open. His hand getting drenched in your slick.

"My girl gettin' close?" His rasped licking the shell of your ear.

Your ass grinding down harder against him making it difficult for Eddie not to cum in his jeans.

Your bucking up your hips as your own fingers work on your aching clit. Eddie can't believe this once shy girl is now lying across his lap with his fingers buried deep in her. The sight alone was enough for him to make him cum.

Your orgasm rapidly approaching, you feel your thighs twitcing, and you close them tightly around his hand, keeping him tightly in place. You're orgasm ripping powerfully through your body. Eddie takes his other hand to push your legs back open. His long, thick fingers stretching your sensitive walls as they pulsate around him. The pads of his fingertips pruning from your wetness. Taking his other hand to push yours off to rub on your clit helping you ride out your orgasm.

"That's it baby cum for me." He praised.

Your body vibrates as you came down from your high. Your orgasm leaving you almost limp in his arms. Your legs feel numb and jello like. Eddie carefully removes his fingers from inside you. There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as your breathing evens out. The only sounds in the apartment are now the ones of pure agony coming from his TV.

"Wanna make you cum all night long." He breathed.

You look up at him, eyes slowly opening and closing.

Can you sit on my thigh for me?" He asked softly.

You carelessly nod. Your body felt like it was floating.

You sit up and slowly move to stand. Your legs wobble, and you almost fall, but Eddie catches you by the hips. He guides you to sit and straddle his thigh. You can see the imprint of his cock in his pants. You lick your lips, remembering the size of him. You sit down your bare pussy now rubbing on his pants. His hands still firmly on your hips, moving you to grind against him.

"Like this." He showed you.

You take the perfect opportunity to lick and suck at the sensitive spot under his neck, earning you a little whimper from him. Your soft lips leave a trail of kisses behind after each bite. He tries holding back another moan as your mouth continues to attack his neck. You grind harder on his thigh, rubbing yourself against him like he showed you. His fingers digging into the your ass as your pussy grinds on him. Your clit rubbing on the rough material.

He can feel your wetness soaking his leg as you grow closer to cuming again. He removes you away from his throat and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. Teeth clashing as your tongues dance together. He halts your movements on his thigh, lifting you up slightly.

"Look at that mess you’ve made." He teased. Your slick very noticeable on his dark jeans.

"Oh! Eddie. You whine loving how he seemed to be mocking you.

"W-we're supposed to be watching a movie." Your legs burning and your clit aching as you rub it faster on his leg.

"You looked scared.....thought I distract you." He sounded almost genuine. He licks a strip up your throat, making you let a small whine.

"M'not scared." You mumbled, trying to defend yourself. Eddie knew you weren't scared.

Each time you speak, every word is followed with a cry of pleasure.

Eddie laughs. "I know, you weren't. I was so scared. I had to distract myself."

He fakes a pout, gripping your ass painfully hard. His fingers digging into your skin.

Eddie pulls you back down against him roughly and moves to help you grind faster. Your chest rising and falling quickly as you feel another orgasm approaching you. You move against him rubbing your throbbing clit on his leg. You can feel that tightness in your core building up again. This time, it's approaching you stronger than the last.

"S'good." You mewled, grinding your hips back and forth.

You inhale your breath and bury your face in his neck as your second orgasm washes over you. It felt like adam was bursting open. You cum so hard on him tears leak from your eyes. Your hands grip his shoulders while he moves your hips to continue grinding on him.

"That's it cum all over me." His voice so deep and husky. You swear you could cum just by listening to him.

You rest your head on him, your body covered in sweat as Eddie rubs your back.

"You did so good." He whispered in your ear.

You sit there in his lap until you build up enough strength to move. Your mind hazy, and your vision is blury.

"Let's go to my room." He kissed your swollen lips and helped you stand.

"Okay." You move to get up, and Eddie takes you by the hand. Your legs feel weak but strong enough to still walk.

He guides you to his bedroom and opens up the door, revealing a large bed with black sheets. The room was dark except for a black light on the table next to his bed. There was a glowing green skull poster above his headboard. Eddie pulled you to the other side of the room and took your pullover off, revealing your bare breasts to him. Your nipples hardening into little peaks as the cold air hits your naked chest. He quirks an eyebrow up when he noticed you weren't wearing a bra tonight.

"Lay back for me." He asked, kissing you one more time.

You move to lay against the pillows behind you. You watch as he rummages through his nightstand, grabbing a bottle of clear liquid. He tosses it next to you on the bed and takes off his shirt. You can see the outline of his cock so prominent even in dark. Clenching your legs together, thinking about him buried inside you.

Eddie moves over to your side of the bed, taking his pants and boxers off. His pale skin glowing under the purplish lighting of his bedroom. His cock springing free and he lets out a deep sigh. "Im gonna cum on those pretty tits of yours kay?"

Biting down on your lip, you nod eagerly, waiting for him to begin.

He moves to straddle your waist and reaches over to pick up the bottle he tossed earlier. He pops the top open and squirts the clear gel on his palm. Fisting his cock rubbing the lube up and down his shaft. He brushes his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum. Eddie begins to stroke his shaft as you watch. He's pumping his cock in a slow pace watching you not taking your eyes away from him. You moved your hands to rub down his abdomen, and it was enough to send him over the edge. He lets out a strangled moan when he feels your nails scratch into his skin.

He leans over with one hand by your head, and the other still stroking his cock.

"W-wanna fuck you so bad baby." He groans above you. His face just mere inches away from yours.

Eddie's thinking back to that night you called him on his show. How your wanton moans ringed in his ears almost every night since then. He picks up the pace as he fucks his hand wishing it were you instead. The way you begged him help you cum for the first time.

He fists his cock faster lube dripping down from his palm and on your stomach. Some of it splashes on your chest from how hard he's going. His grip tightened when he heard you let out a little whimper. He's all teary-eyed and body glistening in sweat. His cock making a filthy schlick noise similar to what you heard on the phone last night.

"I wanna make you feel so fucking good." He sits back up pumping his cock so hard the veins in his forearm are now visible. His bicep flexing with every stroke.

Your hands move to grip and rub up and down his thighs. Your mouth watering as you watched his precum trickle down to his knuckles.

"You're so big, Eddie." You purred under him.

He lets out a choked sob loving when you tell him how big he is. He already knows, but hearing you say it does something to him. He's so desperate for you all he's imagined since meeting you is having you like this. Hearing you speak to him like that is almost too much to handle. How you're talking to him the same way he talks to you. The way your shyness fades away when you're alone together. He loves it.

Don't cum, Don't cum, Don't cum. His inner monologue chants. Eddie tries not to focus too much on what you're saying but fuck its hot hearing it coming from you.

"God, I'm gonna f-ffking ruin you." His voice strained from grunting so much. He's fucking himself harder to the point his arm is beginning to hurt. The chain on his wrist rattling and clanking around.

He moves up a little higher when he feels himself getting close. His hand fists his cock in a tight strong grip. His pulse quickened with each stroke. His aching cock begging to cum already. He's trying to prolong it, but he doesn't know how much longer he can hold out for.

"Need your cum Eddie." You begged digging your nails into his skin.

Rolling his eyes to the back of his head cursing under his breath. His mouth hung open as drool spilled down his chin and onto you. "Please cum on me."

"Jesus christ," He breathed. His legs almost giving out on him as he kneeled above you.

His hips thrust forward, rocking his bed against the wall. His hand tightened around him as he imagines its you. His tip leaking precum down to his knuckles. Eddie needs to cum now he can't hold it any longer. He fists his length pumping faster than before. His cock twitches in his palm, and he lets out the most animalistic groan you've ever heard. His cum shooting out and covering your tits.

He falls forward, almost landing on top of you. Your tits covered in his cum just like he imagined. Eddie sat up to admire the work he's just done on your breasts. He bends over without a second thought, licking his mess off you. His tongue lapping away until you're clean of him. Sucking and biting down on your sensitive nipples making you push your tits closer to his mouth. Eddie sat up to look at you for a moment. His mouth full of his own cum and spit. He grips your jaw with his hand firmly. Pulling your chin down until your mouth is opened wide for him. You already know have an idea of what he's about to do. You stick your tongue out far as it can go waiting for him.

Eddie spits his cum straight into your mouth getting it all over your tongue allowing you to taste him. You close your mouth, swallowing every bit you received. Enjoying the saltiness of his essence on your taste buds. "You like how I taste, huh?"

"I love the way you taste." You whisper, feeling his cum go down your throat. His taste lingering on your tongue.

"Such a good girl. You didn't waste a drop." He spoke softly, tapping your checking gently.

He moves to sit up straight against his headboard. You lay there naked, not really knowing what you should do next. Do you leave now? Does he want you to stay? Your insecurities start creeping back up. You shouldn't feel this way. He's never once made you think he didn't want to be around you.

"Fuck!..shit!" He breathed heavily laughing to himself. He notices how quiet you've gotten all of a sudden. "You okay?"

"Mhmm, yeah, I'm great." You look over at him. You weren't lying. You felt great, but there was this awkwardness that only you were feeling. You were bracing yourself to be let down and told to pick up your clothes and leave.

Eddies does the exact opposite. He isn't like that. Not with you. Most women left him afterward without a moments thought. No one ever stayed over, and he was hopeful you would. He wished at least one girl would have, and he'd wake up to them stroking his hair. He'd cook them breakfast and laugh over their food. That never happened. He went to bed alone and woke up alone.

"Want a shirt to sleep in?" He asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. His voice croaked.

"Oh, um, sure." You give him a shy smile.

Eddie did want you to stay and spend the night. He didn't want to you leave like you assumed. He runs a hand down his face, cleaning off some of the sweat, trying to gather himself a bit more. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he walks over to a chair with various discarded clothes. Picking up a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He tosses the shirt over to you as he puts his pj's on.

The shirt is old with some holes and bleach stains. With an Iron Maiden logo plastered on the front. You throw it over your head and lay back, trying to get comfortable. "We never did eat."

"Too tired now." Your eyes growing heavy as you watch Eddie make his way back to you.

He gets back in bed, throwing the covers over you both. "Yeah, me too."

You turn so your back is facing him, sinking deeper into the mattress. His bed is warm and soft. You feel him drap and arm over you, bringing you to press up against his bare chest. You wanted to ask him something, but your mind is still foggy from earlier to recall what it was. Your body is so weak, and your legs feel like you ran a marathon. Soft snores from behind let you know Eddie has already passed out. Probably right when his head hit the pillows. You figured you'd stop over thinking things and just rest, too. You were definitely going to need it.

-

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no sign of Eddie. His spot cold as the sun peaks through the tiny cracks of his blinds. You move to get up and make your way through his apartment. You're still in his old Iron maiden shirt as you remembered your clothes were previously thrown around his living room and bedroom. Your face heating up when you think about what the two of you did last night. What did he to you last night. How good he made you feel and never did he make you feel guilty for anything you didn't do. He didn't pressure you into doing something you were uncomfortable with.

You make your way down the short hallway until you stop at the living room. The curtains were wide open this time allowing you to see his home better. Not only did he play guitar and collect little figurines, but he was also an artist. Multiple paintings and drawings decorating his walls with a little EM scribbled at the bottom. A pan crashing in the kitchen startles you, and you rush to see if Eddie's okay.

You run and freeze in the doorway when you notice his bare back is to you cooking at the stove. The aroma of pancakes and bacon filling your nose making your stomach growl. He was making you breakfast. No guy you've ever seen made you breakfast before. The more you're around Eddie, the faster you feel like you're falling for him. He was too good to be true, you thought. There has to be something wrong with him.

He feels you standing at the door.

"G'morning, how'd you sleep?" He smiled over his shoulder, flipping another pancake.

"I slept good, actually." You moved to sit on a barstool watching him cook.

"Yeah, me too." A grin plastered on his face, remembering last night too. He smiled fondly at the memory of you naked on his bed.

"Hope you're hungry because I made food."

Your stomach growling louder at the mention of food. You and him didn't do much eating last night. "I'm starving, actually,"

He pulls down two plates, one for you and him. You sit gazing around his apartment, waiting for him to finish up. You must have been daydreaming because the sound of glass clinking in front of you made jump almost out of your seat.

"Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He sets a couple of pancakes on your plate. Picking up a can of whipped cream, creating a little smiley face for you.

"Eat up!" Eddie looked proud of his work on your plate. "I made these special."

He moves to sit down next to you and shoves a fork full of food in his mouth. You pick at your plate a little, wanting to eat but dreading the goodbye that's soon to come.

"You're not eating." He leaned over close as he noticed not one bite of food has been taken from your plate. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About?" He questioned, turning his attention back to the pancakes smothered in whipped cream and way too maple syrup.

"It's not important." You murmured.

You pick up your fork and finally take a bite of your pancakes. Your mood suddenly switches now that you have food in your belly. You didn't realize he had put blueberries in them. They were light and fluffy but not too sweet. The whipped cream made into the shape of a smiley face melting away.

You glance over, seeing him focused on his food, not a thought behind those eyes right now. He was mesmerized by the sugary goodness in front of him.

"I didn't know you played bass too." You commented, trying to grab his attention.

Nodding his head, he looked over and smiled. "Yep."

"I played bass in my first band, but I liked being certain of attention too much, so I opted for guitar." He joked, but you know there was some truth to that. Taking another large bite, clearing his plate of pancakes and bacon.

"Want me to play you a song before we head out for the day?"

"Sure!" You exclaimed, dropping your fork with a loud clunk.

You've never seen or heard him play before. You know you'll be seeing him soon this Wednesday, but you just can't wait that long. Even though it's only a few days away.

He hops off the barstool and heads over to pull out his equipment. "Come over here, sweetheart."

He moved this big amp to the middle of the floor and patted it while motioning for you to come sit down. You gingerly got up as your legs still feel a little wobbly. You plop your butt down on the amp. "Ah ah, straddle it."

"Please."

There was a devious glint in his eyes.

You look at him confused but move, so each of your legs is on either side of the amp. He walked over, plugging in his bass and messing with the nobs on the Amp. He looked at you for a split second a sly grin appearing on his face. You're still confused about what he's up to, but you know he's up to something.

"Good girl." He bent over kissing the side of your head. "Gonna play my pretty girl a song before she starts her day."

You sit there all smiles while you watch him get everything set up. Maybe he is innocent time and isn't up to something. But you've seen that grin one too many times, and you've only just met.

"I'm gonna play you a personal favorite of mine." He plucked the string slightly, testing to see if the amp was on properly.

"Song is Orion by the way." He winked.

He begins plucking away at the cords and watches you intently. The amp in between your legs starts coming to life and rattle with vibrations. Your legs twitch, and you move to stand up, but Eddie shoots you a look, and you sit right back down. Your breath hitches the faster he starts to play. You try to remain focused on him, but the faster he plays, the more intense the amp vibrates.

"This is my favorite part to play." He raised his voice a little so you can hear him.

The song calms down just a little, making the amp die down. You exhale a deep breath, thinking it was over. Your clit throbs between your legs from Eddie's previous abuse last night.

"How you feeling, baby?" He asked, knowing the song was about to pick up speed again.

You stifle a moan. "I'm good."

"Grind on it like you did my leg." He commanded, shooting you a stern look.

He's never spoken or looked at you like that before. He sounded almost domineering, and you won't lie. You liked the way it made you feel.

"That's it, you're so good." His fingers steadily working on the bass slung over his chest.

You do as you're told and rock back and forth on the amp. The song picking up more speed, and you feel that coil in your tummy getting tighter. Your legs trembling as you struggle to do as you're told. Your body telling you to stand up and get off but the need to cum was too over powering. He picks at the strings harder and faster. "Oh fuck!"

"E-Eddie, I can't please....i-its too much," you pleaded. Your clit still sore from last night it felt almost bruised.

"You can. Just relax." He reassured.

You nod your head and focus while the vibration on your core intensified. You rock your hips, grinding down on his amp. Each pluck of the strings as the song changes tempo makes your whole body tremble. The song is coming close to an end, and soon, the closer you are to your release.

"Mmmfph! I'm gonna cum." You moan loud over the music.

"I know, baby!" He yelled back over the music.

You ride the amp harder and faster as your release approaches. With a sharp intake of breath, as another orgasm washes over you, sending shockwaves throughout your body. You almost topple over on the floor, but Eddie quickly rushes to catch you. "I got you, don't worry."

He set his bass down on the floor, holding on to your arm with one hand. He carefully helps you to your feet, and your legs almost give out. "You okay?"

"I'm okay, yeah." You panted.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah, just warn me next time." You playfully swatted at his chest.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I had to make sure I'd be on your mind all day." He laughed, walking you down the hallway. He turned to see the very noticeable sticky mess you left behind.

He helped you to the bathroom, letting you get washed up before you both got dressed to head out. He mentioned how he has class, but he'd love for you to listen to his show tonight. You never told him you do that almost every time he was on air. Day dreaming about meeting him. You had class too during the same hours as him so you couldn't grab lunch like he'd suggested. Which is fine. You'll be seeing him in a few days anyway. You are going to miss him, though. You had fun and truth be told you didn't want to stay again. He didn't want you to leave either. If he could lock you up in this apartment with him, he would. No hesitations. Just the two of you alone together.

Eddie gave you a ride home so you can put on some clean clothes. He gave you one long kiss before you hopped out of his van.

"I'll see you Wednesday." He gave a wink before pulling off.

Wednesday came a lot slower than you wished for it to. You tried to keep yourself occupied with work and class. Wishing the time flew by fast like the last time, but it didn't. Those last few days leading up to his performance seemed to drag a long. You just wanted to see Eddie and be with him. You already planned tonight was the night.

You planned your outfit and makeup. Already having your dress hanging up on your closet. Eddie had offered to come pick you up and take you to the bar, but you declined since you didn't know how long it would take getting ready. You'd planned to run straight home after work and not waste any time. Of course, things didn't go exactly to plan because you had to work almost an hour past when you're supposed to clock out. You pleaded to your manager that you have to leave soon. You had plans. Very, very important plans.

Finally, you were able to leave, and you sprinted home grateful you lived very close by. Busting through your front door, almost knocking down the pictures on your wall on the way to your bedroom. You were already extremely late to see him as is. You know his band already started their first song, and you hope Eddie doesn't notice your absence.

You threw on your dress that was much shorter than the last one he saw you in. You chose to wear heels again, knowing you were probably going to trip at some point tonight. You regret not taking Eddie up on his offer to drive you to the Hideout. Racing out the door and down the street into town. Now was a good time to regret not owning a car. Your feet are already killing you on the pavement. Luckily, the bar is right near campus as well. You're already cringing at the blisters that will be on your toes by tomorrow.

Flashing red signs and loud music fill your ears. You can see the bar on the far right corner of the busy street. Cars line up down the road as they make their to the same destination as you. Some of the people you can recognize from class or the coffee shop. Entering the bar, you can hear Eddie before you even see him. He's already thanking everyone for attending tonight. He told you his sets aren't long, only about forty minutes since other bands play there too. He begrudgingly has to share the stage.

You guess he was on his second to last song by the time you arrived. You felt terrible missing half of his show. You didn't expect to work so late, particularly on a Wednesday evening. You were a little taken back by the number of people out mid week.

You see him at last up on stage in far back. The bar is a lot bigger than you imagined. You're struggling to get closer to the stage. There is a tiny corner close to him that's empty you noticed. Your feet in pain and with people stepping on them as you push past, you won't be surprised if they're not bleeding yet. You almost have to force your way over there. You didn't expect this many people to show up. The Hideout was also the only bar closest to everyone, so obviously, they'd all gather here. Eddies band was also very popular with the local metalheads.

You finally reached the small little empty corner near him. You have a good view of the side stage and audience. You see him singing and thrashing away on his guitar. His hair is down and sticks to his neck. The chain hanging around his neck now tangled. His shirt is drenched in beer and sweat. Not his beer. Some guy apparently threw a drink on him earlier from what you manage to overhear from people in the crowd. They were applauding how Eddie threw the guy off the stage.

You look over and notice almost a sea of women in the front. Well, not exactly a sea of women but a very good amount of them. One too many for your liking. They're all make bedroom eyes at him and flashing their tits. You feel something coming over you as you watch them take off their bras and throw it on stage. You noticed one tied up and hanging from his mic stand. Were you jealous or angry? You're not sure, but you dont like how you feel. You watched him look at them and no one else. If you weren't jealous before, you sure as hell are now. Eddie was yours. There was this burning feeling in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to leave but not without him.

His set was coming to an end as he announced the last song Corroded Coffin would be performing tonight. You wanted to move so he could see you, but it's too late. A huge mob rushed to the front stage. People jumping up there with him to head bang. More articles of clothing are thrown his way. You lean up against the brick wall behind you, trying to calm down. Your nerves are all worked up not only from the girls but also from the number of people here tonight. You're not used to large crowds like this.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming to see us tonight. we're Corroded coffin." Eddie announced in the mic.

He moves to leave the stage and almost walks right past you. He doesn't notice you at first with his head hanging low.

"Eddie!" You yelled, trying to get his attention and grab his writs.

His head quickly pops up, looking to see who just grabbed him. His face softened when he saw it was you. "Hey, you came. Follow with me."

He intertwined his fingers with yours, leading you backstage. Eddie gave quick hi's and byes as you tagged along. It was much brighter back there with dingy white walls that had graffiti all over them. Different bands signing each brick signifying they played there. You overheard his other members discussing whose car would be moving the equipment back to Gareth's place. Eddie drags you down various different corridors until he's pulling you in a private bathroom.

"You like the show?" He asked, turning on the faucet to wash his hands and face off.

"Yeah, you were great." You still had this jealous feeling in your stomach. You felt build the more you tried to drown it out.

He turns off the water and walks over to you. You back away until you couldn't anymore. Eddie eyes at what you're wearing, licking his lips. Your dress is barely covering anything at all. "You look nice."

"Thank you." You whispered.

He bends down to give you a heated kiss. His lips crash onto yours. You open your mouth to breathe, and that's when he sneaks his tongue in. His hands creeping grip your ass over your dress. His kiss is intoxicating as his tongue explores your mouth. You melt into him.

He breaks away. "Need to take you home."

He's panting heavy pupils already blown out with lust.

"I wanna go to your place."

He pulls you away from the door, grabbing your arm and making a bee line for the exit.

"Don't you have to help pack up?" You try to keep up with him as your heels scrap the floor.

"They're fine."

You don't what possessed you, but the moment you got him alone in his van, your hands and lips were all over him. Reaching over to rub his semi hard cock over his pants while he tries to focus on the road. You can feel him hardening under your palm.

"S-sweetheart, come on, wait just a few minutes. He pleaded, feeling himself getting harder. His cock straining painfully on the zipper of his jeans. "We're almost there."

You lean over closer sucking and biting his neck, earning you a groan. You move your hand slowly down his abdomen until it reaches his belt. You unbuckle and undo the button to his pants. His eyes trained on the road a head. Both hands tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles are almost turning white.

"Oh god." He rasped when he felt your hand slip past his boxers.

His chest heaving and his jaw clenches. You were acting very bad right now. You know you should stop. You know doing this kind of thing can be dangerous. You just couldn't wait to have him any longer.

"W'nna gag on your cock Eddie." You smile biting your lip.

You continue teasing and rubbing his length. "Can you fuck me tonight?" He's so thick your hand can barely wrap around it. You're salvating, remembering how you struggled to fit him all in your mouth.

He coughed, choking on his spit when you heard you. He doesn't know what's gotten into you tonight, but he is not complaining.

You remove your hand from his pants and give the side of his mouth a quick peck. You move back to your seat and put your seat belt back on. You let him drive peacefully until he gets to his apartment building. He looks to the buldge in his pants and back to you. He's mad. Mad that you teased him like this and then just left him.

"Just wait until I get you inside." Eddie's eyes never leaving the road to look at you. His jaw clenching.

You squeeze your thighs together, getting turned on at what he's planning on doing to you. You don't know why, but you like seeing him get mad.

He speeds up when he sees his building ahead. You need him bad tonight. You can still taste him on your tongue. The screeching of tires coming to a complete stop, letting you know you've arrived at his place. Eddie wasted no jumping out the driver side and practically pulling you out of the van. He leads you inside with your arm still in his grip.

His lips are all over you as you're heading up the stairs to his apartment. You both tripped over one another, making your way up each step. His hands are running all over your body. From your ass and thighs to your tits. There wasn't a place he wasn't touching you. He just wants to throw you on his bed and rip that dress off from your body. Spread you open and have you begging him not to stop.

You don't even recall how you made it inside his apartment. You kick your shoes off and strip him of his shirt. Your lips are on his in a feverish kiss. He backs you up against the couch, your ass hitting the arm.

"Turn around." His mumbles as you bite at his bottom lip.

You break away to look at him, confusion written all over your face.

"I said, turn. around." He instructed in a demanding like tone.

You do as you're told and turn around. His naked chest pressed against your back. You can feel his hard cock pressing into the swell of your ass. "You were a bad girl back there."

"I think you need a good spanking, hm?" His mouth was right by ear as he whispered seductively. He moves his hand to give you a swift slap on your ass. You yelp when you felt him.

Your nipples harden through your dress. His hands are feeling up your legs. His fingers tips goasting over the skin of your thighs. He goes to remove your panties when he noticed you're not wearing any.

"Oh," He marveled, lifting up your dress. He tsks, shaking his head. "You're being so bad tonight." He's taunting you. Playing with you a little. Wanting to rile you up before giving you what you want.

He moves from behind you to sit down on the couch.

"Over my lap." He sounded frustrated he had to do this, and you liked it. His sudden dominance with you. A complete contrast to the Eddie you're used to.

You move to lay across his lap. You shiver with anticipation, waiting for him to spank you for the first time. Hopefully, it won't be the last you thought to yourself.

He hand pulls back, and with no warnings, he smacks you hard on the ass. You gasp and jolt forward. He doesn't give you time to adjust before doing it again and again. Your ass stinging from the impact his palm was making. His hand is an angry red shade from how hard he's going.

You don't know if you were supposed to count or not, but if you had to guess, you'd say he's given you five so far. Tears spilling down your face ruining your makeup. "Aww, you crying? No crying baby, you deserve this."

"You did this to yourself now. Take it like a good girl." Eddie sighed. He swats you again for the eigth time. "Could have gotten us hurt back there.

"Can't have my pretty girl gettin' hurt." He spoke gently to you. He was right. You shouldn't have done that.

Eddie, stops to check in on you. Not wanting to push you past any limits.

"You gonna be my good girl?" His hand smoothing over your very sore cheeks.

"M'sorry I'll be good." You sniffle. It hurt, but you liked it. The wetness pooling between your legs every time his hand connected to your ass.

He lifts up your dress, exposing your bare ass to him. His fingers moving to tease at your opening. Your slick running down your inner thighs.

"Someone enjoys getting spanked, I see." He mocked, slowly pushing two fingers in your entrance.

"Mmhm y-yes I like it." You mewled, feeling his fingers working you open. You let out a high-pitched squeal, feeling him curving them upwards. His thick fingers plunging in your pussy. You grip a tight hold on his thighs while his fingers are busy thrusting into you.

"Bedroom...now," He commanded in a stern voice, ripping his fingers from you with a loud wet pop as they make their leave. A long string of your slick connecting the two of you together. Eddie brings the two digits to his mouth, cleaning them off.

That's all you had to hear before leaving him alone. You strip yourself of your dress, throwing it to the floor as you sit at the edge of the bed waiting for him. His room is exactly how he left it the last time you were stayed. Your ass still stinging from his hand.

Eddie walked through the doorway of his bedroom. He's jeans discarded somewhere in his living area. He walks over and towers over you.

"You really want to do this?" He asked, making sure you were absolutely ready.

"Yes... I need you." You pleaded.

You desperately needed him. You can't go much longer without having him inside you. You felt like you were going to go insane. He's looking down at you with a soft gaze in his eyes. You felt safe. You always have with him.

He pulls his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. Eddie crawled over top of you until you were flat on your back. He reached down between your legs to tease at your opening some more, wanting to get you ready for him. You spread your legs wider, giving him more access.

Eddie hums at the sight of you spread out for him. Only him. Your pussy glistening in the dim light of his bedroom and it takes all his strength to not just fuck you right then. He sinks down to his knees and yanks you down roughly so your ass is hanging off the edge of the mattress. He spits down on your pussy before spreading your folds apart with his tongue. You sigh feeling his warm tongue lapping at your clit. Your legs hanging over his shoulders. The little stumble starting to grow on his chin, tickling your folds. It was too much.

You gripped and clawed at the sheets on the bed beneath you. Eddie puts one finger to your entrance and pushes in until it disappeared. He curved his middle finger upward pumping it in your pussy rubbing at that spongey spot on your walls. You grip his hair as his mouth works on your clit. He grunts against you, making your whole body quiver. Eddie is going at you like a man starved. His mouth never lets up for one second. His eyes closed as he got lost in your taste. Savoring every drop of your slick on his tongue.

Your legs try to close around his head, and he grips one tightly, pushing it away. Your hips lifting as you're writhing around feeling your orgasm building. Eddie can feel you getting close when your walls clenched and pulsed around his finger. His plump lips sucking at your clit harder. You were almost there. So close and just as you were about to cum. Eddie stopped suddenly removing his mouth from you and pulling his finger away. Your walls still pulsating as he denied you of your orgasm. His face was shiny and covered in your juices. He looks up giving you an amused look.

You frown at him, knowing he’s messing with you for what you did to him in the van.

"Why'd you stop? I was so close." You almost wanted to cry. "I need you...I just wanna cum p-pleeease make me cum."

You'd do anything at this point to have him inside of you. Your pussy was practically crying for his cock to nestled deep inside you.

"My girl wants me to fuck her?" He whispered with a sultry tone. "Is that it?"

"Yeah," you replied. your voice barely above a whisper.

"Aww baby, don't cry." Eddie cooed, noticing the sad look on your face after what he just done. He wasn't going to deny you anymore. How could he when you're looking at him like that.

You nod your head slowly. "Need it so so so bad."

"Gonna have you feelin' so full." He sits up aligning his cock on top of your pussy. Showing you how far in he's going to be.

"Look at that...look how deep I'm going to be." He's so hard for you. Feels like with just the slightest touch you give him, he could explode on the spot.

You squirm under his gaze, arching your back, waiting as patiently as you possibly could. You know he's going to go about this slow. He's going to be extra careful with you. He's going to tease and taunt you because he wants to here you beg for it. He holds the base of his cock slapping it against your sore clit. Getting his precum on your wet folds. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your face feels all fuzzy and warm.

"Don't tease me anymore." You whine, stifling a moan when the head of his cock dips down to your entrance. He pushes just a few inches in parting you open. Your eyes fluttering closed when you get a little taste at what's to come.

Eddie doesn't stay for long he removes himself teasing your clit with his tip. Rubbing your juices and his precum all over your sore bud. You thrash and grip a hold of his sheets. Your walls clenching around nothing again as they're so ready to be stretched open by him. Each time his tip pushes at your opening, you feel that coil in your belly creeping back up. You were on the verge of cuming just moments before he denied the chance. You know the second his cock sinks in you won't be able to hold it.

He rubs his cock up and down nudging your clit with his leaking tip over and over again. Your slick drenching his length. He thought he was going to need to use his lube, but that doesn't seem to be the case tonight. Your pussy is drenched with your juices. You were more than ready for him. Eddie just enjoyed getting you worked up. Hearing your sweet little cries anytime he gets his cock close enough to your opening. The way your legs squeeze around him, trying to keep him from moving away. How your eyebrows squint together and you bite down hard on your bottom lip. "Eddieeee," your whiny and breathy sobs make him almost take pity on you. Almost.

"Eddieeee," He repeated back, mocking the same pout you have on your face.

He drags his cock through your wet folds repeatedly making a lewd wet schlick noise.

" You're bein' mean,' you whine, tears spill down your face again. Mascara and eyeliner ruined in the process.

He stops that cocky grin reappearing on his face. "Is that so?"

You nod, not daring to say a word back. You're getting impatient with him. He's been working you up for what felt like hours now. Your clit throbbing and sore even with the slightest brush of his head making your breath hitch. His precum and your juices smeared all over your pussy. You assumed he's felt a little bad for you, when he starts to slowly pushing the tip of his cock through your entrance. Truth be told he could do this all night long if he wanted.

Eddie stills for a moment, only letting his tip split you open. Your head falls back against the pillows. Finally, you thought, but your relief was cut short when he removed it again. You huff in frustration and let the neediest whimper he's ever heard. Eddie relentlessly teasing your pussy as he slides his length through your folds. Slapping and nuding your clit with his length. Your body all sticky with sweat. Everytime his cock hit your tender neglected clit you begged and pleaded to him. You're teetering on the cusp of an orgasm and he doesn't seem to want to let you. Not right now, at least. He just keeps building it up only to rip you of the chance.

Your face twisting in a grimace. Why does he keep teasing you? You already learned your lesson. You were beginning to think he wasn't going to give you what you wanted after all.

"God!, you're so!-" Your sentence cut short when he licks his fingers and slaps your pussy just hard enough to shut you up. You gasped more so from shock.

The pain and pleasure mixed together was something you never thought you'd enjoy until tonight.

You instantly calmed down.

"Theeere she is." He purrs, pushing his thumb in your mouth as you instinctively suck on it wishing it was his cock.

"Ya ready for me?."Eddie asked, aligning himself back up at your entrance. He removes his thumb, allowing you to speak. A string of spit connecting you to him.

"m'ready." You rasped.

You feel the head of his cock right by your opening. "Oo!, yes, I'm--im ready." Your body burning with desire to feel him. To finally have him.

His thick tip gingerly splitting you open. Eddie getting just a few inches deeper than the last time, but it was enough to almost make you scream. He pauses to put both of his hands on each side of your head.

"Good....because I'm gonna make sure you can't walk in the morning." His assured speaking low.

You knew he was serious about that. You and Eddie have been yearning for one another for so long. You just know the moment he's inside of you, it is going to take all of his strength not to lose total control. You look into his eyes, pleading for him to give you more. You want it all. You need it all. You don't care how sore you're going to be tomorrow. Your brain clouded by lust and the need to be fucked by him.

Eddie pushes in a little more and dips his head to bite down hard on your shoulder. Your hands moving to tug at his hair. The feeling of you tightening up around him as he breaches past your opening was almost too much for him to handle. He can't cum. Not yet. He's just getting started. Eddie tries to focus on anything else. He's talked a big game to you up until this point. He needs to last, but you just feel so good. You're so wet and warm. You hug him just right, and he's not even all the way in yet. You're perfect.

"More." You begged, not knowing Eddie was keeping still for a particular reason.

"Patience baby, gimme a sec." He exhaled a long breath before kissing your shoulder where his teeth marks now were. "Tryin not to cum."

"Shit!, you're ju-just so fucking tight." He grunted.

You didn't know you were having this type of effect on him. You won't lie it feels nice knowing that. You lean up to kiss him. Your lips lazily press to his. You were soft and delicate with him. You moan in his mouth when you feel him pushing in a little deeper.

He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours. His breathing is ragged. He's sinking in inch by inch agonizingly slow. Trying to let you accommodate him. "You're so good, you know that?"

"S-so mmmfph, so good-- jus' for me." Eddie stammered. His jaw tightening.

"Jus' for you." You murmured against his lips.

"Yeah?" Only me?" Eddie questioned his tongue sneaking out to lick your parted lips.

You felt light-headed. Your mind clouded with so much lust. Every touch and kiss from him was deliberate and sensual. From the way he spoke to you to the way he caressed every curve of your body. You've never been touched this way. No one's ever made you feel this like before. There wasn't an inch of skin where his lips and hands hadn't been.

"Only you." You're breathless.

Eddies wild hair fell over his shoulders. His chain dangling by your face.

The events leading up to this moment were almost too good to be true, you both thought. The phone call. The coffee shop run in. The date. Everything felt surreal. Yet here you are together. He relished in how trusting you were of him so quickly.

Eddie kept pushing himself further inside of you until he was almost bottoming out completely. You wince slightly at the sudden stretch and size of him. "It's okay, relax for me." Eddie coaxed you as he tenderly rubbed at your side, helping you relax. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to get adjusted to his size some more. "I-I can take it...fuck, don't stop."

"Oh, is that so?" Eddie taunted.

"Ya sure I'm not too big for you?"

Swiftly shaking your head no. " jus' please Eddie."

You let out another whine, bucking up your hips. His taunting coming to a full stop when he pushes his cock in a little deeper.

"Goddamn, you're tight," He said through clenched teeth. His nostrils flaring.

Eddie carefully pulls out, leaving just the tip in. Only to slam back inside you, bottoming all the way out this time, letting out a long moan as he did. His length stretching your walls, hitting all the right spots. You've never been this full ever. He felt like he was in your stomach. He starts thrusting into you at a steady pace helping your pussy get warmed up to him.

His bed squeaked with every thrust he gave. He pulls his cock almost all the way out and glides it back in with so much more ease now. You're making the prettiest little noises for him. Your nails scratching over his over broad shoulders and down his back. "Mmm, Eddie, you feel so good."

"G'nna cum inside you." He grunted.

"F-fill you up...get you so full of me." He's blabbering, not really paying attention to what he's saying. "Want, ooh shit!-"

His words cut short when he felt your walls squeezing him. His hips rocking harder against yours. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass. The soft curls between his legs getting soaked in your juices. "Need your cum in me pleeease."

"Don't stop, Eddie!" Your throat burns the louder you called out his name. His cock rubbing that spongey spot on your walls just right. You can't think straight anymore he feels amazing.

His jaw clenches, and you can hear his teeth gritting together. "Ya need it that bad, huh?"

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna give it all to you." Eddie panted his voice raspy.

"You dirty girl." Eddie tried to tease again. He sounded like he was about to lose his voice."S'needy, begging for my cum."

You let out a loud whiny moan when he rolled his hips. His cock hitting a new angle on your walls. He moves to pin your wrists down beside your head. A shiver sends down your spine when he looked into your eyes. He's rough but gentle all at the same time.

Your juices, so creamy coating felt like his cock was drowning in it. His balls and pelvis now completely saturated. The both of you moaning in unison. He pulls his hips far back, slamming them against yours roughly. Your pussy making the loudest pornographic noises as Eddie continued pumping his cock inside you. The sound of skin slapping echoes off his bedroom walls.

"Oh my god!" You cry out.

He grips your wrists tighter, and you feel like your hands are going numb. Your bodies glistening with beads of sweat. "M'getting s'close."

The coil in your belly tightens the faster your orgasm approaches you again. Eddies cock pumping in your pussy at an almost brutal pace. Your breasts bouncing in his face as he pounds you in his mattress. "Gettin close too, baby."

"Gettin reeeeal fuucking close." Eddie grumbled as his hips rammed against yours.

Eddie, let's go of one of your wrists to snake it down and play with your clit. His calloused fingers rubbing tight circles on your aching bud. Your pussy clenching around his length.

"Fuuucking, christ." He cursed under his breath.

Your orgasm approaching you rapidly. His skilled fingers pressed down harder as he rubbed your clit. You throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. Eddie takes the opportunity to bite and suck on the tender skin. Your vision goes black, and there is a ringing in your ears. Your head is blank it felt like time stood still. You cum around his cock hard. Your orgasm hitting you in waves. Your legs shake violently around his waist.

Eddie stops thrusting for a moment to watch you come undone. "That's it. That's my good girl cum all over my cock."

"That'a girl." He praised as your orgasm left you unable to speak for some minutes.

He starts rocking his hips into yours. Your head is cloudy as you come down from your high. Your clit still throbbing and your walls still pulsating as your release fades away. Eddies thrusts are getting sloppier as his orgasm is quickly approaching him. Your pussy squelching louder when his cock glides in and out of you. The sound ringing in your ears. His sheets are an absolute mess from you.

"I-i gon-...I'm gonna cum." He moans fumbling over his words. His cock twitched and with a few more powerful thrusts he's spilling hot ropes of cum deep within you coating your walls. He doesn't stop pumping his cock until he's milked himself of every drop.

He collapses all of his weight on you. The two of you lay like that for a brief couple of minutes. You felt him easily remove himself from you, and you frown at the loss. His cum mixed with yours dripping out of your opening and onto his bed. Your entire body felt weak. His face flushed a light pink, making the freckles on his cheeks more noticeable.

Eddie sits up and moves from on top of you. He reaches over to grab a pre rolled joint and light it.

"Shit." He whispered to himself.

He brings the joint to his dry lips and takes a long puff. "Want some?"

"No thanks." You declined still feel dizzy, almost drunk like.

"Wanna take a bath together?" He takes a few more puffs before putting his joint out in the ash tray. The weed mellowing him out.

"Yeah... but I can't. I don't think I can walk." You confessed. Your legs still trembling from earlier.

He smiles proudly. "Here, lemme help."

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Eddie walked over to you, helping you stand. Your face heating up when you felt his cum sliding down your legs. "I should probably change these sheets, too."

Eddie helps you to his bathroom and sits you on the toilet while he gets the water ready.

"Come on, lets you in." He takes your hand and gently helps raise your legs over the tub, so you don’t fall.

You sat back and hummed, feeling your muscles relax immediately. Eddie gets in behind you and brings your back to lay on his chest. The warm water soothing you both as you clean each other. You feel like you could fall asleep right here if he let you.

"Hey, I'm gonna go change the bed you stay here." He gave you a long, passionate kiss before getting out of the bath.

You watched him put a towel around his waist and leave. You take the opportunity to clean off your face of whatever makeup was left. Hugging your knees to your chest, you feel sleep slow creeping up on you.

Eddies loud voice echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom startles you awake. "Let's get you dried off."

Your legs much stronger now than they were before. There was a small ache between your legs where he was once buried. You try to ignore it for the time being but you know you're really going to feel it in the morning.

Eddie gives you one of his sweaters to wear, so you'll keep warm. Your dress from earlier discarded somewhere amongst the mess. You jump back into bed next to Eddie. Nestling yourself under his arm curling up in his side. The damps ends of his hair dripping little droplets of water down his chest.

"So, uhh, what got into back there in the van?" He spoke out of nowhere.

"Hmm?" You faked like you didn't just hear him.

"You heard me."

Pushing your face in his side, trying to hide from him.

"What was that?" He jested, putting his hand behind his ear as if he didn't hear you the first time.

"I SAID! I got a little jealous. You huffed.

"Jealous? Of what?" He was in utter disbelief.

"The girls at your show...and that stupid bra on your mic stand." You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Oooh, my god!" He belly laughs.

"It's not funny." You argued, squinting your eyes at him. A hint of a smile dancing on your lips.

"You're right. It's not funny." He chuckles. His hand goes to cover his mouth, hiding his smile.

".....next time they throw their bras at me, I'll just sling shot them back."

"Thank you! That's all I'm asking for." You exclaimed dramatically.

He snorts, pulling you back against him to cuddle. You spent the rest of the night joking and making fun of one another lovingly. He admitted he should make you jealous more often if it gets you to act like that. That was quickly disregarded when you shot him a very dirty look.

It's been a full year since that night. Eddie and you became inseparable. He's since graduated from college and got a good gig as a radio disc jokey for a local radio station. The concept of the show was almost the same, but there were some few minor changes. His "adult segment" got watered down to be more radio friendly. Eddie hated the censorship but figured once he made a bigger name for himself, he wouldn't worry about that stuff anymore.

You were in your last semester of college when Eddie finished. He asked you the moment he got his offer if you wanted to work with him and be his assistant. Not passing up that opportunity to spend more time with him. You said yes with zero hesitations.

"Come on, let me show you our studio." Eddie dragged you into a room filled with various mics and a desk. There was a light above him with glowing orange letters reading "On Air."

The last time you saw him, this excited about anything was when his old friends came to watch him walk across the stage. You didn't think you could be more proud. His eyes lighting up when he showed you the name plate on the door. "That's my name, babe." He tapped on the wooden door.

Tonight was his first show at his new studio. He was nervous but knew most of his listeners were still the same. You sat on the chair next to him. Your short tennis skirt hiking up at little. Eddie kept turning to glance at you while he read from a script. When he would cut to commercial break, his hand would wander up your thigh. You squeezed them shut and smacked him away.

"We can't do that, not now." You whisper yell at him.

"Who says? Who's gonna know?" He whispered back.

He bites his lip and groans. "Baby, I've been needing you all day."

"Sit in my lap. I'll behave." He pats his thighs giving you an innocent smile.

You knew better, but move to sit on his lap anyway. Your skirt lifted and showed the lace of your panties to him as you sat down.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard when we get home. He promised.

Your eyes widened when you felt his semi hard cock pressing against your ass.

"Ya know what, since you've been teasing me, I think I'm gonna tease you." He said, lowly licking the shell of your ear. One of his large hands running up your thigh to cup your sex.

"B-but I'm not." You tried to defend yourself.

"You are, you know how I get when you wear this." He picks up the hem of your tennis skirt. You do know how he feels about the it. He bought the article of clothing for you for a reason. He never could keep his hands off you when you wore it.

Eddie couldn't keep his hands off you, period, but the skirt wasn't helping.

The ads were still playing over the radio when Eddie suggested for you to announce the next song coming up after his brief segment.

"Wait, I have a much better idea." Eddie leaned to unbuckle his belt and pull the zipper of jeans down. "Lift up for sec."

You lean forward to lift up off his lap. Your ass is almost on full display. The only thing keeping you from him was the sheer material of your panties. You can hear him groan before running a finger along your covered slit. A wet patch already forming very noticeably. "I can't wait to get you home, but this will do for now."

He pulls his cock out from his pants stroking it before running his thumb over the leaking tip. He slaps and rubs it between your covered folds as you lean a little over his desk. He presses down on the head and hisses. You thought he was going to jerk off until he was back on the air, but you were dead wrong.

Eddie pulls your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to him. He slaps his tip at your opening from behind, dipping it in ever so slightly before pulling it away. Your jaw dropping open when you felt his tip nudging in your entrance. Your palms sweating on top of his desk, as you're feeling him part you open. The head of his cock shining with your slick. You can hear him groaning again with frustration that he can't fuck you the way he wants. "Sit on it."

"Wh- now! Right now?" You panicked.

"People are listening, Eddie." You tried to argue, but he shook his head.

"So? That's never stopped you before." He had a point. A very good point. You don't even need to turn around to see the smug, expression on his face. "Come on baby, I just w'nna feel you."

"Okay." You spoke softly, giving in to him.

You help hold his length as he aligns himself up with your opening. You slowly sink down on his length, taking him all in a few inches at a time. You sit down fully on him. He feels so deep this way. Eddie grips your hips to hold you perfectly still. He leaned back in his chair to get relaxed as his segment was about to begin. His eyes are half lidded. Eddie's already struggling not to cum and you haven't even done anything yet. His cock nudging at that sweet spot on your walls. "Ooh!, c-can you just push up a little."

"I-i can't take staying so still...its-" You pleaded. You would do all the work yourself while he continues on with his show if meant you could feel his cock stroking your walls.

He cuts you off.

"Shh, no." He quietly told you, covering his mic up his mic as the show was now starting.

"Alright, every b-body." Eddie tried reading his introductions but stumbled over his words when you purposely clench around his cock.

He shot you a look from behind. You were definitely going to pay for that one. You fidget in his lap, rocking your hips from side to side.

"If you don't keep still I'm gonna bend you over this desk and fuck you live on air." He warned, and you stopped moving straight away.

Was he serious? He couldn't be. You thought to yourself, but if you only saw his face right now, you'd know he was being dead serious.

He cleared his throat. "Alright, everybody, before we get started, my lovely girlfriend here is gonna announce the next song."

"Aren't ya." He thrusts up hard with no warning, making you gasp in the mic. His cock nestled so deep within you. You cover your mouth to keep from moaning out loud.

"Mmhmm y-yep." You knew these next couple of minutes were going to be torture. Absolute torture for you.

You take a long, deep breath.

"The next song....up...is Man in a box." Your voice shakey. Your hands squeeze Eddie's thighs. He's grinding you in his hips and bucking up. You bite back another moan, trying to escape your lips.

"Ah, no honey, that's not the right song. we just heard that one." Eddie's mocking you now. He knows how hard it is for you to keep quiet, and he's doing everything in his power to get you to break.

"Baby, you're being too obvious they're gonna know." Eddie thrusts his hips harder, shaking the desk. A soft moan escapes your lips. You try to play it off and clear your throat. You can feel Eddie laughing behind you. His chest vibrated as he watched with amusement.

You're trying to so hard not make anything noticeable. The people listening have probably caught on by now, you're sure of it.

He leans forward to show you were to read.

"Here, baby." He pointed on the script laying in front of you.

"O-oh, right, my mistake." You swallow hard.

His cock hitting a new angle every time he bucks up. Your head felt dizzy. Your slick making a mess of him and you. You're getting so close to cuming. Your walls so sensitive as your boyfriends cock spreads you open.

You breathe out and read what's on the piece of paper in front of you.

"Focus." He whispered at you.

You nodded rapidly.

"The next song is by the band The Pixies called Here c-comes your man." You squealed that part out when Eddie's hand lifted up your ass and slammed you back down. He smashed his face in your back to cover up any grunts he might make.

He squirms around his chair, holding you tightly to his lap. He lifts you off him the moment he felt your pussy flutter on his thick cock. He knows he wont be able to resist fucking you. Eddie most definitely knows you won't be able to keep quiet much longer either. You whimpered, feeling empty. You were so close, and he didn't let you finish.

"Be a good girl and I'll let you cum later." Eddie struggles to tuck his cock back in his pants with a satisfied grin plastered on his face. There's an aching throb between your legs.

"Promise?" You sit back next him in your chair. Disappointment written all over your face.

"I promise." He pouted right back at you, sticking out his bottom lip.

There were many times Eddie did those things with you live on his show. One time you both almost got caught right in the middle of fucking when his boss was paying a visit. The room was a mess where he slung everything off his desk to lay you on top of it. The other time was when you accidentally hit the unmute button on his mic, and for about five minutes, Eddie's listeners got to hear you both going at it on his desk. The equipment rattling and wood creaking. You begging him to go faster. The sound of his hand slapping your ass from behind.

Yes, he was almost fired from there, too, but he got them more media attention, so he got stayed. His show became number one locally, and then a few years later, Nation Wide.

Eddie would interview big names he used to only dream about. From Ozzy to James Hetfield and so on. He had a personal feud with Howard Stern when Eddie called him out on his show. He absolutely loathed that man.

You and Eddie stayed together throughout it all and even moved in with one another after your graduation. You still worked as his assistant in his now much bigger studio. Everything was going very well for the two of you so far, and you can't wait to see what else the future holds.

[rabid-dog-steve-horn]

Listen up you ignorant sheep.

He lies about everything is the point of me posting this.

He didn't have the power himself to ban fracking cause the state and federal government have control of the land involved and the laws and the regulations they passed due to democrat climate change agenda which Joe Biden is a democrat and said he agrees with climate change many numerous times himself. Look that up. Strange how only democrat areas banned fracking, eh?

He didn't stop them, he didn't try to find any way to reach any compromises, he left them go ahead and push their agenda forward. Why? That's what democrats do.

Look online, I posted a few things to prove you jerks wrong and nobody said a word cause there's the proof. There's tons of stuff online about it across the country, but I'm from Pennsylvania so I found a few examples close to home. Believe me there's a shitload online. I only picked a few cause I shouldn't have to waste time looking shit up cause nobody else is willing to cause they're too busy posting TikTok videos of silly animals and crying on Facebook they had a bad hair day.

We were energy independent, we weren't relying on other countries for oil or fossil fuels of any kind until Joe Biden came in passing executive orders that reversed every single fucking thing Trump put into effect to better our country. And that's why Trump jokingly said he'd be a dictator on day one cause sleepy Joe did that exact same fucking thing to him & our entire fucking country.

You assholes must like paying more for gas and helping terrorist countries earn money to buy weapons to murder people. Where are we getting our oil from you idiots? Joe depleted our oil reserves and prevented the pipelines on American soil from being completed while letting Russia finish theirs. Then rejoined that Paris Agreement that Trump took us out of to be more energy independent and free from environmental climate regulation nonsense.

You like funding China so they gain power? They can frack & mine for minerals to build your fucking electric car batteries and cell phone batteries which we could be doing ourselves if not for the democrats.

You might wanna look online to learn gas and fossil fuels are used in a lot of everyday products not just to make your cars drivable and heat your homes.

Perhaps if you'd look things up and do some fucking research instead of playing candy crush and gambling online you'd realize how wrong the democrats really are.

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part seventeen

688 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen

Eddie wouldn’t go as far as to say that he needs the stupid notes to want to go to school.

But. 

He does kind of miss them. 

They were the highlights of those eight days before he knew where they were coming from. It gave him something to look forward to. Aside from Hellfire - which only officially meets once a week on Friday - there’s not much for him at school. 

Admittedly, Eddie has read the notes a couple of times since they’ve stopped appearing. Right now is one of those times - he needs a boost to actually make it to class instead of walking right out the front door to his van and getting out of this hellhole. 

When the notes stopped, Eddie was confused. Like, sure, he hadn’t been all that subtle in showing that he knows who H is, but it’s not like Tommy’s made it known that he knows that Eddie knows - besides not leaving notes anymore.

After lunch, he’s standing with his head practically shoved in his locker as he flips through them. As he’s carefully reading through the one he received on his birthday, it hits him. 

The ring. The fucking ring. 

It says it right there. 

if you want me to stop just don’t wear the ring and i’ll back off

How could he be so dense? Eddie rummages through the war-zone that is his locker. Honestly, it takes far longer than it should for him to emerge with the piece of jewelry. 

He isn’t sure if he wants the notes to continue. Well, he does, but he doesn’t want to lead Hagan on, no matter how much of an asshole he is. He kind of wishes he never found out about it. Curse Gareth for being considerate enough to let him know that known asshole Tommy Hagan slipped something in his locker. 

Eddie keeps the ring safely in his pocket while he’s anywhere that the boy could possibly catch sight of the thing (the halls, lunchroom, bathroom, etc.). In class, though, he can’t help but take it out. 

It really is beautiful - something he would’ve gotten for himself if saw it and had the money. 

In art, Buckley moves from the back of the room to their table. She’s partnered with Carol for the project, but the change in seating still catches Eddie as strange - they’re not even working on the portraits today, but whatever.  

Speaking of project partners, Steve’s been shifting in his heat quite a lot for the last couple of minutes. Eddie tries to ignore it, he does - God knows he’s never sitting still - but it really is hard to focus. 

Eddie turns him. “You good, man?” he whispers, not wanting to interrupt whatever the teacher is saying. Steve jumps in his seat and Eddie flinches back in surprise. “Woah, easy.” 

Steve doesn’t make eye contact, which is odd because usually he’s really…insistent on it. His gaze is instead focused somewhere on the table. “I’m- I’m okay, Munson,” he says, barely audible.

Eddie scrutinizes him a moment longer before shrugging it off. If he wants to keep it to himself then Eddie is in no position to question him. 

The last thing he ever expected - aside from receiving freaking love notes from Tommy Hagen of all people - was being (even somewhat) on friendly terms with Steve Harrington. He isn’t what Eddie had expected at all, though. 

Eddie’s always preferred him to his best friend, but that’s not really saying much. Eddie actually likes Steve. Almost too much. 

No, it’s definitely too much. 

The guy would never be as sweet to him - because that’s what he is, sweet - if he knew the thoughts running through Eddie’s whenever he is around.

Like, Eddie didn’t die or anything when Steve confiscated his pencil and gave him the holy grail but it was a near thing. 

When the bell sounds through the room, Eddie slips the ring back in his pocket and leaves.

At the end of the next period, he tries not to overthink it as he puts the ring on and keeps it there for the rest of the day.

eighteen

tag list (closed)

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sorry if i missed anyone!!

[hyewka]

idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.

[beforeimdeceased]

hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!

CRYBABY! - (E.W)

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.

a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?

“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit

masterlist.

ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.

you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.

today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.

all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.

“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.

“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.

“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.

fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.

“bad day? cause it looks like it.”

“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.

“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.

you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.

she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.

“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.

“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”

“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”

you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.

“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.

“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”

you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”

“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”

“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”

“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”

“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.

“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”

you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.

you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.

it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.

“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?

you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.

“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.

she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.

[hamsterclaw]

Your ex-boyfriend's new song reels you back in.

Pairing: Namjoon x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Idol! Namjoon, smut, angst

Warnings: Sex, swearing, toxic relationship

Word count: 2k

‘The fuck you say about me?’ you demand.

The tall, buzzed blond man looks up, insolent, arrogant, so fucking sexy it hurts you.

He tucks his tongue in his cheek, flicks his hooded eyes over your rigid body.

‘If the shoe fits,’ he drawls, that familiar low voice smooth as silk.

‘You’re an asshole,’ you hiss, angry tears standing in your eyes. You blink and they stream down over your cheeks.

Kim Namjoon, your ex boyfriend, tilts his head. His gaze hasn’t left yours.

‘I miss making you cry,’ he says. His words come out slow, deliberate, every word like a bullet hitting its mark.

His aim’s always been sharp.

‘You never will again,’ you spit out. 

You turn on your heel and yank open his studio door. 

His hand lands on the door above your head, closes it again, caging you between him and the door. All six feet of him, packed with the muscle he’s put on since he started working out again.

He leans down, you can feel his breath on the back of your neck as he whispers, ‘How does it feel to be the one caught off-guard?’

You try to turn around and face him but his large hand lands on your shoulder, pinning you into place.

He’s always been bigger, but he’s never used his strength against you before.

You’re shaking with a rage and hurt so deep you can’t verbalise. You sob, a gulp of air, and try to turn again.

He holds firm, and you can’t move.

‘Stop,’ you say, throwing an elbow back, struggling against his grasp.

Namjoon releases you just enough so you can turn to face him.

There’s a hardness to his expression that you haven’t seen before. 

‘Now you know how it feels,’ he says. 

‘Let me go,’ you scream, right up into his face, so loud your ears ring.

He barely blinks.

‘You come into my studio to start shit? What did you expect?’ he hisses.

‘You touch me, I’ll go to the press,’ you say, shoving at his chest.

Namjoon laughs, short. ‘And say what? No one knows we ever fucked.’

His words hang between you.

The tears are still falling, but your composure is returning.

‘I know,’ you say, voice thick. ‘And you know.’

Your words make some of his anger drain away. You can see him visibly easing out of the rigid posture he was in, leaning back so he’s not looming over you.

‘We know,’ he muses. 

‘And now anyone who listens to that track will know,’ you say, looking at him steadily.

He runs a hand through his buzzed hair.

‘They’ll know you fucked me over,’ he says. ‘They’ll know my side.’

He’s not wrong. There are two sides to your tumultuous relationship, and he’s told his side in the way he does best. 

It’s unfortunate for you that he has the platform to reach millions of people. 

You’re standing a foot apart now, bodies still turned to each other.

‘I fucked you over,’ you muse. ‘I fucked you over.’

He’s staring at your mouth and you know exactly what he’s thinking.

For all his emotional intelligence and his intellect, he’s always been a simple man.

‘Come down so I can reach,’ you say.

He leans down and your hand comes up to slap him. He catches your wrist mid-air, grip so strong it’s like steel, and lowers his mouth onto yours.

His kiss is hard, bruising, his tongue delving into your open mouth in a rhythm that makes you shiver.

He tugs you up on tiptoe, and you bring your hands up to keep space between you. He ignores the way you’re pushing at his chest, takes the way you’re kissing him as consent.

You give up.

You melt into his frame, close, arm curling around his neck to hold on as he presses his hot mouth to your neck. His tongue flicks over your skin, his lips form a seal and he sucks, a sensation that has warmth pooling at your core.

He groans, low, his hands already sliding up under your top, cupping your breasts over your bra.

Instead of unhooking, he hooks his finger under the band of your bra and tugs, up, lowering his head to suckle at the tip of your breast. His tongue swirls, and heat pulses between your legs.

‘Take it off,’ he says, eyes hooded, pupils blown. 

You tug your top off, then your bra. You’re not self-conscious about how you look in front of him.

Namjoon’s shown you a million times how much he loves your body.

Sure enough, he’s pushing you back onto the couch, mouth all over your tits, his big hands splayed around your waist, gripping you tight.

You try not to moan but you can’t stop yourself. He knows exactly how to pleasure you, it’s a learned skill from the hundreds of times you’ve fucked.

He laves his tongue over your nipple, and you’re already craving the thick length of his cock inside you.

He’s watching you as he kisses a path down the bare skin of your torso. He gets to the button of your jeans, undoes it deftly and you lift your hips so he can tug them off.

Underneath, your panties are sticking to you. He splays a hand over the curve of your hip, places his hand on you and you close your eyes as he rolls the pad of his thumb over your clit, slow, teasing.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he tugs it away, rough.

He’s still fully dressed, the lights all blazing above you, and the juxtaposition of how he’s fully in control and how he’s taking you apart under him adds an unwanted intrusion to the haze of pleasure.

Shame.

It’s more about the way you’ve treated him than the way he’s got you spread and almost naked under him.

It’s more about the things you’ve said to this man who you’re supposed to love than the moans of wanton pleasure you’re expressing now.

He’s the one with a finger in your cunt but you think over the years you’ve fucked him just as much.

The tears come again, and Namjoon notices. He’s seen you cry so many times but there’s still a thin thread of decency that makes him lean down and kiss your forehead.

‘If I stop we’ll only feel worse,’ he murmurs, certainty in his tone borne of experience.

‘You know I love how you fuck me,’ you say, softly, speaking like it’s a secret between you and him.

There’s a flash of regret in his eyes but he doesn’t dwell on it. Fucking won’t close the chasm between you but it’ll sure as hell make you both forget for a while.

He gets up, unbuttons, lets his loose jeans slip down and then he’s in his chair, thighs spread, hard dick in his hand.

There’s a smear of pre-cum on his grey tee that’s probably worth more than your car but Namjoon’s never given a fuck about his clothes.

He watches, intent, as you slip your panties down, kick them away. 

He cups your bare bottom as you straddle him, lets your hand cover his around his cock.

You curl your fingers around him, and he huffs out a breath.

More pre-cum slips between your fingers as you position the head of him where you need him.

Namjoon’s dimple flashes, brief, as his lips curve.

‘Take it slow, baby, you know how sore you get.’

There’s a taunt in his low voice but the hands still supporting your ass are gentle.

You take the tip of him inside you, and he clenches his jaw.

His body, underneath you, is tense with holding himself back.

Namjoon can be gentle but he’s not a patient man.

You lower yourself, slow, thighs quivering with effort. 

The slide of his cock is so damn satisfying, every time. 

Namjoon lifts his hips, a push, two, then he’s in all the way.

You both groan.

You rest your forehead against his, fighting to regulate your breathing.

He’s struggling too, his heart thumping against his chest.

‘Fuck, fuck,’ he mutters. ‘Why’s it so good every time?’

He catches your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, squeezes your tear streaked face.

‘I want to make it work,’ he vows. ‘Why can’t we make it work?’

He’s squeezing so hard you’re worried he’ll leave fingermarks on your cheeks.

You could give a trite response, a dozen snappy comebacks are in your mouth ready to be said, but instead you close your eyes.

Take in the feel of him inside you, his body around yours. His scent on your skin.

Every time could be the last time.

Then again you’ve been saying that since you met him.

You curl your arms around his broad shoulders, move your hips, pull his head between your breasts.

He comes willingly.

You lift your hips, up so he’s just barely inside, then drop them. The sounds of your joined bodies in the otherwise silent soundproofed studio are obscene and beautiful.

You keep up the rhythm, slowing when you’re close, when your peak’s within reach. 

Namjoon’s looking up at you. 

His dimples flash. 

‘Always did need me to finish you,’ he says. If there’s arrogance in his tone it’s been earned over all the times you’ve fucked.

You press your thumb into his cheek.

‘So do it.’

Namjoon grasps your hips, grinding you onto his pelvis. He fucks up into you, grunting with the effort. His skin gleams with the sweat he’s worked up.

‘Fuck,’ you gasp. 

Namjoon swears. 

‘Gripping me so tight, fuck!’

Namjoon pulls you down, plunges his tongue into your mouth as he fucks you.

You cry his name as you come, words passing from your mouth to his, and he closes his eyes.

His thrusts slow, erratic, as he pumps his release into you. 

You get up, legs wobbly from being fucked so hard and well, totter to the couch and press your face between the joins. You can’t look at him or you’ll cry again and you both hate that.

A moment later you feel the weight of him next to you.

His big palm lands on your ass along with the whole weight of his arm. 

He buries his face in your hair.

You don’t think there’s anything left to say.

***

You’re curled up in Namjoon’s pre-cum stained shirt, knees up and together on his cum-stained couch, watching him flick a lighter on and off.

Without turning he says, ‘Don’t give me that fucking screw face when you’ve got my t-shirt on and my come running down your leg.’

You try to readjust your resting screw face but he turns and catches you.

You have to laugh at how well he knows you.

He’s picked up your panties, twirling them around his finger.

‘You gonna go?’ he asks. He’s looking at you, so you do him the courtesy of meeting his gaze.

‘Yeah.’

He nods. ‘I had the codes changed on all the doors. Your fingerprint won’t work anymore.’

It’s your turn to nod. 

‘I moved,’ you feel the need to tell him.

‘I know,’ he says.

You’re not surprised to hear he looked for you.

It’s the hallmark of the many years of toxic codependency you shared. 

Your friends got married and had babies.

You and Namjoon went up in flames and rose from the ashes. The cycle went on. 

Fuck, cry, repeat.

You get up, start getting dressed.

You’ve got your hand on the door when you turn back to look at him a last time.

He’s already looking at you. 

‘You hungry?’ you ask.

It takes him less than a second to decide.

[vivwritesfics]

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Twenty-Two

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Mafia AU

1.6K

Warnings: kidnapping, murder (like, quite a bit), smut

Series Masterlist

Lando sat outside of the warehouse. His chest was heaving as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. She was in there. That was the location they'd sent.

Fucking idiots. If anybody was going to be good at a kidnapping, you think it would be the police. But they were useless. They'd told him exactly where to find her.

He checked for ammunition in his guns and climbed out of the car. A bitter, coppery taste entered his mouth as he started towards the warehouse. She was in there, and he was going to get her back.

Lando's finger was on the trigger before he walked into the warehouse. There were two men outside, guarding the door. He couldn't shoot them, not yet. Not without alerting everybody inside. And then he'd have no chance of saving her.

They weren't even properly guarding the door. One went to light his cigarette, distracting the both of them enough for Lando to slip past. Getting inside unnoticed was easy.

His girl was the first thing he saw. Tied to a chair, body slumped forward. Tears stained her cheeks and her body was shaking. Shit, he needed to get to her.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Lando hid himself behind some empty crates as the officer approached her. "Soon this will all be over, pretty," he said, voice echoing around the warehouse. Lando watched, jaw clenched as he grabbed her cheeks and forced her to look up.

Lando saw red.

Nobody touches his girl like that.

He looked around for the other officers in the warehouse. Some were in police uniform, some of them Lando recognised. He couldn't put a name to their faces, but he knew them. They'd been in his club before, arrested people, brought them for Lando to 'deal with'.

Weak, useless assholes, he knew. He readied his gun in his left hand, grabbed his handgun in his right hand. Clearing his throat, Lando stood up, alerting everybody to his presence.

"Ah, Norris," The police officer touching his girl called, a grin on her face. "You have my money?"

Lando shot him in the head.

His body dropped, and all hell broke loose. He ducked behind the crates as shots were fired at him.

Fuck, he should have been more covert, taking them out one by one. Instead he'd let rage blind him and he'd put his girl in danger. He spared her a glance.

She was okay, eyes squeezed shut, turned away from the men with the guns.

Lando stood and shot one of them, his bullet finding its home in a man's skull. He dropped, leaving two firing at Lando.

He ducked again, waited until they stopped. When he stood, he shot the second. But a bullet flew past his shoulder, just grazing it. A hiss left his lips as he fell down behind the crate.

Just one to go. Why hadn't the two guarding the warehouse come in? He checked the amount of bullets in his gun.

Another many left. But that was fine, he just had one more guy to kill. His shoulder throbbed, but he ignored it as he stood up and raised his gun. One shot, just one shot and it would all be over.

He stood, gun raised, and fired the final shot. The moment he pulled the trigger the gun dropped from his hand and he gripped his shoulder in pain. "Fuck!" He cried as the final bad guy dropped to the floor.

He could ignore it. Ignore the pain to get to his girl. He stopped holding his arm, hand coming away red, and strode across the warehouse towards her.

"Baby," he whispered as he dropped to his knees in front of her. He pulled the gag from her mouth and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Fuck, I'm so sorry," he cried as he untied her legs.

Walking behind her, he untied her hands and pulled her to her feet. His thumb moved over the red, painful marks on her wrists and she released a hiss.

Tears fell down her cheeks as Lando pulled her into his side. "How's Bruiser?" She mumbled against his shirt. She hadn't yet noticed the red on his other arm.

"He's fine," Lando replied as he walked with her out of the warehouse. "Max found him in the park and took him back to the house. He's there now," he explained.

The tears were still falling. Fuck, she hated him. He was the reason she got kidnapped and she hated him for it. Lando looked down as she still rubbed at her sore wrists.

When they left the warehouse, Lando moved her behind him. Nothing bad was ever going to happen to her again.

But the men outside of the warehouse were on the floor, out old. If Lando hadn't dropped his gun, he would have shot them both dead. He looked up, looked at the familiar car pulled up alongside his own.

"You're an ass," Max called as he pushed away from his car. "I should have known you were going to do something like this."

Lando scoffed. He was in no mood for this. Still holding her, he kept going towards his car. "Where do you want me to take you?" He asked, voice so gentle as squeezed her hand. "Your mums place?"

She stopped, hand still in Lando's. "Lan," she said, voice shaking as she touched his cheek. "Take me home. To our home."

"Our home?"

His chest was heaving as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The moment she touched his shoulder, body accidentally pressing against it, Lando hissed and she pulled away.

"Fuck, that's bad," he gasped and grabbed a hold of his shoulder, trying desperately to alleviate the pain. "Shit, that fucking hurts."

She stepped away, hands raised. "What's wrong? What's the matter?" She asked quickly, trying to check him over without touching him. "Do I need to take you to the hospital?"

"Not the hospital," Max said quickly. "I'll drive him back to the house. You follow behind in his car."

"Max, no!" She insisted, but Lando shook his head.

He used his uninjured arm to fish his keys from his pocket. "He's right, baby. It's better if we go back to the house."

But she still looked panicked. "I..."

"Trust us," Max said as he opened his car door. Lando kissed her and climbed into Max's car, leaving her there with her fingers closed around his keys.

***

A bandage held his arm in place as he sat up in bed, flipping through channels. Retirement was hard, harder than his grandparents had made it seem.

Bruiser snored at the end of the bed. It was loud and comforting. Walking Bruiser was the only time Lando had left the house since his retirement. Things would get better once his arm was better, he told himself.

Maybe he should have kept his club, gone legit with it. He'd stopped sleeping with strippers before he'd met his girl, it could have been a proper business. Now, he had nothing to do. Retirement sucked but it was better than putting the love of his life in danger.

The front door opened. Lando's eyebrows raised and he looked towards the bedroom door, open just enough for Bruiser to come and go as he pleased. As soon as he heard the front door shut, he was up and out of bed, barking as he made his way to the front door.

"Hi baby," came the voice of the woman he loved more than anything. "Can you stay out here for me? I need to talk to your daddy."

Bruiser didn't understand her. Obviously he didn't. He was a dog. He followed her until she dropped her bag to the floor, which he immediately stuck his head in. She slipped into the bedroom and pushed the door shut.

"Lan," she said. His head wasn't turned as she unzipped her skirt and dropped her clothes to the floor by the door. And then she walked forward, stepping into his view.

Lando sucked in a breath. "Fuck, I missed you today,"

She pulled off her underwear and dropped it to the floor. Lando was still as she climbed on top of him, knees on either side of him as she freed him from his zipper.

There was no foreplay, no time for that today. She sank down onto him and threw her head back, releasing a groan. "That's better," she mumbled breathlessly.

Her hips rolled as she leaned forward, hand touching his cheek.

Lando squeezed her hips as she sat on him. "Hi my love," he whispered, smile front as he stroked over her hip. "How was work today?"

She kissed down his neck instead of answering. Lando released a breathy laugh and gently pushed her away. A pout graced her features as she bounced slightly. "I've been thinking," she started, voice shaking slightly.

"Thinking what?" He asked and bucked his hips up.

"We've been through some crazy shit, right?" She asked and Lando nodded. "Well, what's the next logical step?"

Lando raised his eyebrows. Where the hell was she going with this? But he stayed silent, let her continue.

"I think that the next logical step is to get married, right?" She bounced again, almost as if she was nervous. "Wanna get married, Lan?"

He sucked in a breath.

"Fuck yeah I do."

FIN

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[cosmiiwrites]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ enemies to lovers

.ೃ࿐ adam x fem!reader .ೃ࿐

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: in which you and adam find out you don't hate each other as much as you think you do cw: NSFW, fem!reader, p in v, oral (f!recieving), creampie, adam (he's his own warning), hair pulling, semi-public sex, cussing a/n: FINALLY DONE !! first smut fic though, so apologies if some things dont make sense :(

you hated adam. you hated his cocky attitude and his fuckboy persona. and most of all, you hated how everyone stayed quiet about it. him being the first man didn't mean jack shit to you. if he was being an egotistical asshole? you won't hesitate to put him in his place. even if that meant starting an argument in front of the promenade, putting your hatred for one another on display.

adam, on the other hand, loved someone who could match his abrasive attitude. and it meant more that you went out of your way to shout insults at him every chance you got. to be honest? it turned him on. but he would rather die then admit that. during meetings, you two would bicker non-stop, shooting daggers at each other from across the table. so yes, everyone and their mothers knew about you and adam's ongoing feud. what did everyone also know? the unspoken sexual tension between you two. the tension so thick it was tangible. the tension everyone knew about except the two idiots who claimed they hated each other. even lute was getting sick of it. "what a bitch, am i right?" "yes, sir." "she's just salty because i'd never go for a cunt like her," "mhm, sir." "maybe i sho-" "you know what i just remembered? sera saying she had something to discuss with me. ill be leaving now, sir." adam shot her a confused look. it wasnt like lute to walk out on a conversation so abruptly. (spoiler alert, she just didnt want to hear adam talk about you for the millionth time today) "well, uh, shit, okay." upon leaving, adam bumped into a familiar face. "well, well, well, if it isn't-" you slid right past him, ignoring any advance he'd tried making towards you. "what the fuck?" adam's face grew warm from embarrassment. did you just ignore him? he planted himself in front of you, hoping to make a statement. his tall figure hovered over yours. "ignoring me, hm? is that any way to treat the first man?" he teased. you sighed and rubbed your forehead in annoyance before answering, "if by 'first man' you mean 'overly-confident egomaniac' then yes." that's what adam liked about you; you didnt kiss his ass 24/7 like all the other angels. you didnt crave his approval. "i seriously don't understand how people can tolerate being around you," you groaned.

"oh fuck off, the ladies love me," he grinned. "especially in be-" you threw your hand to cover his mouth. "ugh, spare me the details, you gross fuck." your statement only widened his shit-eating grin. "why, jealous?" he teased, dragging on the s. "fuck, no! i feel bad for all the women you've slept with, they've probably faked all their orgasms as to not hurt your fragile ego." you retorted. adam's smirk dropped. he couldn’t BELIEVE you thought he was incapable of pleasuring a woman. luckily for you, his anger quickly turned to interest as an idea popped up in adam's head. he leaned into your ear, voice low and husky, "you wanna bet on that?"

taken aback from his sudden offer , you backed up until your back hit the wall of the alley you two were in. “what,” you breathed, “are you on about?”

“if i can make you cum,” adam started, “you have to admit that one; im the dick-fuckin’-master, and two; i AM capable of pleasuring a woman. deal?” adam's said a ton of dumb shit, but this? you let out a boisterous laugh. “are you serious?” but after a few beats of unearthly silence, thats when you knew he was. “well, shit.” you did want a chance at proving him wrong and taking down his ego. to be fair, no one’s made you cum in a long, long time. and you were always up for a challenge.

you grabbed adam by the collar and dragged him down to your level.

“deal.”

———————————————————————

thats how you found yourself up against a wall, being eaten out by the first man, the first soul in heaven, and your well-known rival.

you didnt want to admit it, but god, this man was good with his tongue. not to mention his hands.

he gripped your thighs tightly, spreading them apart and smirking up at you. your flustered face drove him mad, only fueling his desire for you. its not his fault you looked so fuckin’ cute. maybe he should get you like this more often…

adam shamelessly licked up and down your entrance, earning small involuntary whimpers from you. he dragged his hand down your thigh to rub circles on your clit, making you twitch under his touch. “taste so fuckin’ good,” he growled. wanting more, you tugged at his hair, forcing his tongue to prod at your cunt. “impatient, are we? and to think you hated me.”

it was like he was waiting for this exact moment; for adam ate like a man starved. like he hadn’t eaten in days, and you were the only thing that could nourish him.

suddenly, he dragged his long tongue against your clit, “shit, adam!” he smirked against your cunt. “enjoying y’self, babe?” “f-fuck—haah—you!” was all you can manage, before he sunk his tongue deeper into you, fingers now circling your clit twice as fast. “dont worry, tits, you’ll be doing that in a bit.”

it wasnt long before you had cum all over his tongue and face, panting like a maniac. you had already lost the bet, but you didnt care. nor had any of you two mentioned it. lost in a drunken haze, all you wanted was his cock buried inside of you.

you quickly recovered from your high and grinded against his painfully hard erection. “s-shit, babe, didn’t take you for a desperate whore,” adams words were slurred, his need for you fogging his brain. “s-shut up,” you retorted “looks like you can still talk back,” he grinned. “i’ll fuck that bratty attitude out of you.” “youve yet to do so,” you teased. “you bluffing, dickmaster?” oh, now you’ve got him in a chokehold.

those would be your famous last words, before adam would recklessly pound into you.

adam quickly undid his boxers, revealing his hard cock, precum already spilling from his tip. you thought he was joking when he called himself the ‘dickmaster.’ you silently wondered how that would fit inside of you. “see how fuckin’ worked up you get me, tits?” adam babbled.

he bent you over, your wrists just above your head.

you were about to reply with a snarky comeback when he pushed his cock into you, no warning beforehand.

“i fuckin’ knew it,” he said. “tight as shit. bet no one’s fucked you as good as im about to, huh?” you wanted to respond, to deny his accusations, but the only sounds that left your mouth were desperate moans and whimpers. it was like music to his ears, fueling him to fuck you brainless.

his large size stung, but pain quickly turned to pleasure when he began to move.

he picked up his pace, pounding into you brutally. it was oh, so sinful. but adam would go to hell anyday if that meant he could have your tight little cunt all to himself.

adam took a fistful of your hair, forcing your back to arch. when you didnt protest, adam threw a line of praise at you. “there we go, good fuckin’ girl, just like that…” the position you were in was a bit uncomfortable, but you quickly stopped paying attention to that when adam thrusted into you sharply. “s-so good f’me,” he babbled.

you knew he was almost at his peak when his thrusts grew sloppy. “shit, almost there, fuck!” he groaned. “m-me too, adam, fuck,”

in one deep thrust, he buried himself inside of you, spilling his cum. you felt your stomach grow warm, full of adam’s seed.

adam was still inside of you, even after you both had came. there were no sounds other than your pants and his huffs. thank god this was an empty street.

finally, he pulled out of you. you whined at the loss of contact, earning you a cheeky grin.

“so,” he said, breaking the silence. “how was that for pleasuring a woman, hmmm?” adam smirked. “still hate me?”

“always, just a little less now.”