#my partner has never watched any of these shows

[infiniteaugends]

Okay! I need to get this out of my head. I’ve seen some posts that are upset that people are upset about the BuckTommy break up. The core gripe of these posts is that the show still has HenKaren and so we shouldn’t be upset about the handling of the other main queer couple. Which makes no sense because BuckTommy and HenKaren fulfill different niches. One is a bisexual man exploring a new relationship and the other is two gay women who are settled with multiple kids.

However, this post is to talk about HenKaren. Yes I love them! They were the main thing that drew me to the show long before bi Buck became a thing. They are two black women in a relationship. Neither is ‘conventionally’ attractive. Hen is pretty visually queer. I love them. I want more of them in the show. However I don’t relate to them. Almost all of their storylines revolve around motherhood. There is very limited exploration of them as queer women outside of motherhood. Karen is a literal rocket scientist and that has never even been used as any sort of plot point. Like the amount of physics she knows and understands could be used to great effect. Micheal got to help break into a bank vault with Bobby, but Karen has never been used in a similar way. Like the amount of STEM knowledge stored in her brain 100% could have solved at least a few rescues. Can we explore these amazing woman as queer women instead of mothers just sometimes pls.

I read a fanfic that explored how Don’t ask, Don’t tell could have affected Karen. That she couldn’t become an astronaut because of it. I would love more of that energy in the show.

So yes you are right I am bemoaning the way Buck and Tommy’s break up was handled. I am bemoaning the lack of care given to exploring Buck’s bisexuality within monogamy. I am allowed to be upset. I am allowed to not relate to the storylines given to Hen and Karen. What happened to Hen being kinda witchy and blaming the moon cycle for her cheating? What happened to Hen and Karen and Athena’s wine mom nights? Where is our exploration of Karen as partner to a woman in a dangerous field of work? Where is our exploration of their relationship outside of kids?

You want me to appreciate the crumbs of queer representation being tossed my way? Well won’t you’re right we should be angry that Hen and Karen are treated as second class citizens in the narrative. We should be upset that their importance has been reduced to only motherhood. We should be upset that this show is mishandling all of its queer characters and letting Eddie Diaz have freedom and joy while our queer representation suffers.

BuckTommy was the straw that broke the camels trust in 911 ability to craft realistic queer lives and continue to care about them more than a diversity check mark. I will continue to watch HenKaren clips on YouTube and read fan-fiction. I will continue to engage with Bi Buck fan-fiction that heals the parts of me that Glee and this show have bruised. I will not thank them for the stale crumbs they brush from the table. Do I love Hen and Karen? Yes! Is it enough? Not anymore!

Anyway, I got a little heated and upset, but all this discourse is really just rubbing me the wrong way. Let people be upset and hurt. Their feelings are valid whether you agree.

[itsmyfandomandilikeit]

Ok I have gone through all available evidence and I have a prediction.

Look I'm ngl I am watching Arcane for Cait and Vi. I love the show overall but this ship is what I'm most here for, especially after I spent the last 3 years under the assumption that Mel was dead. Glad she isn't. Point is, I really want CaitVi/Violyn/Piltover's Finest to be handled well, and I pay a disproportionate amount of attention to what happens with these two.

After watching the first arc of season 2 the other day, I was trying really hard to ignore the ending to episode 3. I didn't like that Cait hit Vi in the stomach and abandoned her in a pit after being all classist at her, but I thought, this is Arcane. Arcane is the greatest fucking thing I've ever seen, of course they're gonna find a way to make this work. But that made me think of it as a puzzle. How could they possibly make this work?

Option one, Cait sucks now and she and Vi don't get back together. I don't think this makes sense, because of the brand. CaitVi is a popular ship that just about everybody likes. A huge amount of the hype for this season before the trailers came out was building up assurances that don't worry, CaitVi is happening and it's not gonna be ambiguous. Take this teaser from like two weeks after season 1 ended, a couple of Valentine's Day icons, and one million tweets from Amanda Overton. Why the fuck would they make this season be about Cait and Vi not working out? It simply doesn't make logical sense.

Ok, so we're starting from the assumption that Cait and Vi have a happy ending that makes people feel like they should be together, and continue to want to play as them in the games and buy merchandise. That means they either explicitly get back together, or it's so implied there isn't much of a difference. My money is on zero ambiguity. Vi is the main character and Cait is maybe #3 or #4. Ambiguity about their ending would just look like a weak writing choice and they didn't know what they're doing. The Arcane writers don't tend to go for wishy washy.

But here's the problem. Domestic violence is bad. It's about the fastest way to guarantee the majority of your audience doesn't think two characters should be together. It would take a herculean effort on Cait's part to make up for that and honestly I still wouldn't believe it. To me, there isn't any kind of act of service that makes up for hitting your partner. Not even ensuring the independence of the nation of Zaun. Add on top of that the over the top hurtful comments about Vi's blood and class. It makes her look very much like, deep down, she thinks of Vi as beneath her. If she meant those things, a relationship between them is impossible. (Not to mention how many teenaged girls I know are watching this, and I don't want them to think it's ever okay to be treated like that, even in a fantasy series.)

So my prediction is this. The only way to make a relationship between Cait and Vi viable again is to render those comments and the sentiment they carry meaningless. How do the writers do that? Imo it turns out later that Cait intentionally came up with cruel things to say to cut Vi loose. She realized that Vi would never be able to kill Jinx, and this new explosion will make the situation aboveground even worse, and Vi still won't be able to contribute to the hunt after this. Vi has no future as an enforcer against Jinx and will probably get treated like dogshit as a Zaunite, so Cait is "breaking her heart to save her", as Tvtropes would say. In Cait's mind, it's better if she's left down here in Zaun.

What evidence do I have for this? It fits Cait's characterization as a genius who thinks quickly and several steps ahead. It fits the tiny animation details we zero in on of her stiffening her trembling lips and furled eyebrows. It un-ruins the most popular canon relationship in League. It allows act 1 to end on massive shock value but roll it back later to show that Cait actually does love Vi, enough to let her go for her own good.

I'm not arguing this is the best possible solution but it's the one I think they're going to go with. Amanda Overton and some others have repeatedly said that CaitVi fans will be happy with the ending to Arcane. Everything about the show(the opening, Netflix Brazil's Twitter account, the story) points to them being the show's OTP except for this one scene. I think Cait intentionally cut Vi out of her life by pretending to be much crueler than she wanted to be, to protect her and, likely, as a form of self destruction.

[asraindarkness]

vent time! i have to disrespectfully disagree with people who are now suddenly saying "it was clear from the start that bucktommy was just a short-term thing". the whole issue with the argument is this: 911 has never been the best written show, and especially everything after s4 has been capital R Rough. this is no succession, the bear, arcane. you know, tv shows that have incredibly story continuity, character writing, and pacing. people say that bucktommy was not written "well enough" as if that is a valid sign in the 911 universe that the breakup was a sure thing. i call bullshit. when was the last time that the show has wrapped up even the simplest storyline in a satisfying and serious way? when was the last time character development happened and was take seriously? when was the last time the main characters didn't feel stagnant and the stories didn't feel repetitive? when was the last time the show didn't go in circles and choose the easy or sometimes most offensive way out? 911 had enough meat to tell compelling stories for 3 seasons, afterwards it went noticibly downhill. people who say that the "bad writing" of bucktommy should have been a clear sign are talking complete nonsense imo. tommy was the first ever love interest who checked all the boxes, who got verbal approval of bobby (who has watched buck grow and knows him incredibly well and who did notice a positive difference in buck!), who had everything that we have been told buck needs in a partner for 6 seasons. the canon text spelled out: this could be the one.

we were not delusional for that because, once again, i have to point out: the wonky writing is not a bucktommy problem. it has been and still is a general 911 problem. if they butcheted the bucktommy writing while they did great with everything else, yes, then i would agree the signs were there. for 911 standards of writing, which are very low in comparison to good tv shows, bucktommy has actually been done pretty damn great until that fucked up breakup. people say "they didn't even know each other after 6 months" and i retort "athena first admitted that she had a fiance before michael to michael and bobby like 30 years (?) after the fact". this show has been fucking up storylines left and right for years, and most characters and dynamics had many moments that were terribly written and poorly handled and were only enjoyable when you ignored the idiocy of it all. this show doesn't care about timelines, doesn't care about logic, doesn't care to base the drama within the constraints of a realistic depiction of society and laws. it retcons things for shits and giggles. the mains only get through it all thanks to plot convenience and plot armor. like please. we try to find logical solutions (e.g. tommy lands the plane) and the show will choose whatever is the most ridiculous idea (12 yo lands it).

looking at the bigger picuture, bucktommy had incredible potential for 911 standards and could have easily worked long-term if only the writers wanted to do so. the simple problem is: they apparently don't want to put any more work into it. it is as easy as that. many things in this show never lived up to their full potential and got wrapped up in the most ridiculous ways that nobody could have ever predicted. like, my bad for expecting some leftover common sensen and logic in the weewoo show! at this point, it feels like a skit starring clowns that will do the most random shit. rinse and repeat.

in that context and thinking back to all the butchered storylines, bucktommy had actually been a fucking masterpiece so far. now, it unfortunately just joins a looong row of things that could have been impactful and meaningful if only the show had good storytelling.

how could i have ever knew a breakup is coming when the writing literally said i wrote them for 8.05 as an stablished couple who where doing ok just so the breakup could hurt more!!! hurt who??? cuz most of their fandom were queers, so there is that.

and yes i agree with you. i dropped the show after s6 and came back to it ONLY bcz my friend told me buck came out bi and start this season only bcz i was invested in buck and his relationship journey cuz i knew for a fact the other part of this show is not gonna get any better and the fucked that up to.

they only claim they KNEW they’re gonna break up cuz they were saying it since 7.06 lol

and it piss me off when they say there was no chemistry (which i disagree) cuz this is so stupid. lacking chemistry is something WE see as audiences it is not a thing for characters in the story, they don’t see it and they don’t feel it so it can not be a reason for them to breakup, like??????

all and all bddie shippers has been dancing this dance for 7 years now and yk what? i hope they do get what they want cuz 911 is not gonna change the writing so i hope they do get bddie in this exact writing they seem to loooove cuz i know it’s not gonna be all fair dust and unicorns lol

(i still love buck and i hope hope hope they handle his sexuality better at least from now on but im not optimistic)

[mx-giraffe]

Dumb shit, as brought to you by my partner.

I love the idea in my head of Yuma occasionally having a scarily deep voice for his tiny body so sometimes you’re just vibing at night and you see this tiny gremlin with glowing eyes and it just goes “hEllO” in the like deepest raspiest voice.

Like they’ve all learned that if you have to get a drink of water at night you’re just either gonna wait till morning or die of dehydration.

Cuz sometimes he’s on top of the fridge.

One time osamu tried to outsmart the system by going to the bathroom and not the kitchen for water, only to find Yuma sitting in the bathtub with his eyes closed. I mean, he didn’t see him cuz dark. But then he definitely did because Yuma absolutely opened his eyes and made a weird clicking sound.

I love my partner for many many different reasons, and them being in love with my hyperfixations of which they only gain information about via me ranting to them is definitely one of them.

[goxjo]

! 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

ALPHA! GOJO x F OMEGA! READER

+ synopsis. you live in a world where omega and alpha qualities are medically treated at birth to become dormant later in life. present day, only betas & pseudo-betas exist, pheromones & its effects are left in the distant past, and heats & ruts are reduced to monthly cycles of being slightly hornier than normal, nothing more.

so, what happens when a curse you encounter induces a heat in you far worse than anything recorded in modern times?

+ alternatively. in which even a special grade sorcerer isn’t immune to the curse-induced heat of an omega — you, the partner he's pined for over the course of your entire friendship — forcing you and him to go back to your primal roots.

+ cw. forced A/B/O dynamics, lovesick! gojo, slight! geto x reader, sorcerer! reader, dubcon (technically sex pollen), reader is born an omega, gojo and geto are born alphas, gojo's infinity can't block scent for fic purposes, geto doesn’t turn au, use of restraints, mating call, mutual pining, it gets playful / lighthearted in the middle, implied 'medical' use of sex toys, dirty thoughts, lordosis, petnames (angel, love), pussy job, constant pov switches towards the end, cunnilingus, ass fingering, piv, cervix kisses, confessions, shared orgasm, creampie, knotting, no beta bye, 3.5k+ words, MDNI

+ masterlists. general ┆ jujutsu kaisen ┆ collab

♥︎ aki’s note. big thank you to raven (@raven-cincaide) for sprinting with me ♡ ++ this very late fic is part of my into the omegaverse collab ♡ please show some love to everybody’s amazing works when you can!

He came as soon as he heard. Plagued by his racing thoughts, Satoru stands still, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you from behind the glass window. Though he appears to be calm, seeing you like this is torture.

“How long has she been in there?” Suguru puts his hands in his pockets, taking the spot next to Satoru.

“Too long,” he breathes. And it’s only been half a day. His 6 eyes have been agonizingly locked on your form the entire time, piercing blue eyes peering through the glass and into your poor disturbed soul. You’ve been crying non stop ever since they found you. Eyes glossy, pupils blasted, spewing incoherent words, skin damp and hot.

They needed to restrain your arms and legs to be able to perform tests on you, but that didn’t stop you from crossing your knees, relying on friction to rub your pussy as best as you can. All this, as your body wriggles beneath the harsh clinic lights. You’ve gone absolutely feral. Your cries are pitched an octave higher than what Satoru’s used to. And as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, it’s as if… “It’s as if she’s calling out to someone.”

“To you, you mean?” Suguru scoffs.

Paper seals secure the walls of your room. Remnants of the curse linger around your body and because of that, they’ve deemed it safer to assume only born-betas are allowed direct contact. For now, at least. Shoko says they don’t know if there are aftereffects — meaning, if exposure to a victim could also trigger a rut in an alpha. And now they’re dealing with pheromones, not just cursed energy, so infinity is out of the question. That means Shoko gets to stay with you, and the two born-alphas are to stay on this side until further notice. 

Satoru hates it – being separated from you by a wall like this. Not like you weren’t already normally separated by one, considering your room in the dorms is right next to his. But he particularly hates how this renders him unable to barge in on you any time he wants.

Right now, he wants to annoy you. He wants to poke fun at you. He wants to pull your strings because he likes it when you get fake-mad. You’re cute when you do that. Plus, he uses it to his advantage knowing you can never actually stay mad at him for too long — a weakness the two of you share.

“Heard the report got it all wrong.” Suguru pats Satoru’s back. “Special grade 1, was it? Quite the leap from semi-grade 1.” Suguru shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. He’s never seen his best friend so distraught. But Suguru reassures him, telling him not to worry and reminding him of the fact that, at the very least, “She’s alive and kicking. Well, kicking too hard for that matter. Those knots are gonna bruise.”

“She should’ve called me. Fucking idiot.” Satoru clicks his tongue.

They have brought in experts — historians, even. They have tried every omega medicine known to man. Emergency suppressants that were once obsolete are concocted that same day. Everything should’ve shown immediate effects. And yet, it’s almost laughable how it all seemed like they were only giving you placebo meds, forcing you to down so many in so little time. Since nothing has worked, Shoko sent them away.

What’s worse is, the curse is exorcised. And in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, killing a curse usually takes all its enchantments with it. So, if the curse is dead and you’re still experiencing the worst heat known to man, they could damn well consider your revert permanent if they don’t do something about it quickly.

The two men jolt back upon smelling a very pronounced aroma of burnt cinnamon on Shoko who’s left the room for the first time in the last 6 hours. Her hair is slightly disheveled, slightly damp from sweat. And the circles around her eyes have grown visibly darker and heavier.

“Can’t imagine our forefathers going nuts over that stench.” Suguru lightens the mood, fanning his hand in front of his face. He blinks his tears dry as a result of inhaling a whiff of the strong odor.

“It’s not that bad.” Satoru scrunches his nose as he’s suddenly taken aback, though he’s not particularly repulsed by the scent. If anything, he’s immediately convinced it’s something he doesn’t mind living with. “Plus, I heard it’s slightly different for every omega.”

“Finally, some fresh fucking air,” Shoko murmurs as she leans on the glass, head thrown back as she lights up a cigarette. Apparently, she hasn’t had one since they brought you in. “Welp, tried everything. Even left her alone with toys to do—”

“Herself?” Suguru teases.

Satoru scratches his throat. “Did it- uhm… did it help?”

“Not one bit.”

“Maybe you… didn’t give her enough time?” Satoru nonchalantly suggests, pouting as he subconsciously takes notes for himself if he ever gets presented with the opportunity.

“I let her at it for an hour.” Shoko huffs out smoke in the direction opposite to the two men. “I even gave her… options, you know.”

Satoru mentally kicks himself as his thoughts run wild. He can still see the tip of the pink silicone popping out of one of the trays, girth not so different from his. He hates Shoko for doing a shitty job at concealing it because blood rushes to his cock just by looking at that thing, knowing it had gone inside you. He thinks about what other toys Shoko had you use — thinks about which one was able to make you cum the fastest, which one was your favorite?

Fuck. Now, he has to keep adjusting his stance, marching in place like a damn soldier till he manages to get his half-hard cock into a better position in his pants. Using his hands then and there is not an option for obvious reasons.

“Satoru.” Shoko’s tone becomes more serious. “You can drag this longer than it needs to be. But you know there’s only one surefire tried-and-tested-literally-by-millions-way to cure a heat.” She takes a long puff, blowing smoke in between words, embers flickering on the end of her half-done stick. “You up for it?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Of course he is.

Suguru and Shoko shoot each other knowing glances, the former raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘watch this’. “Satoru, If you’re not gonna do it, I wi—”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Satoru spits, not letting his best friend finish his sentence. The two quickly exchange low fives, chuckling at the expense of their lovesick friend. Satoru turns to Shoko, paying no mind to his friends so blatantly enjoying themselves in the middle of a crisis. “You’re sure you’ve done everything you can?”

“Everything I can, yes. You’ve exhausted all the favors you can ask of me, it’s high time you deal with your own problems.” Shoko prods two fingers onto Satoru’s chest.

“Want her to want it,” Satoru speaks softly.

“Are you blind? Did your fucking 6 eyes stop working?” Shoko looks at Satoru, puzzled, as if she wonders why Satoru isn’t seeing what she’s seeing. “Oh, I’m pretty sure she wants it bad.”

“Want her to want me.”

Shoko rolls her eyes and disposes of her cigarette though it’s a couple more puffs away from when she usually stops. She’s at her limit. “Wait here.”

Trying to prove a point, she goes to the supply room and comes back with two handkerchiefs — a white one and a blue one. She then pats the white one with the sweat off of Satoru’s nape, and the other with Suguru’s. “Pray with me, boys. One of you’s gonna have to return to their roots.” She cracks her neck, preparing to head back in.

The sound of your cries increase and decrease in volume when Shoko opens and closes the door behind her.

“Shoko, Shoko, please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it—”

Shoko waves the blue handkerchief above your head, grabbing your attention for only a few seconds till you’re back to screaming in agony. She can almost hear Suguru scoffing on the other side. She then takes out the white cloth with Satoru’s scent, and like a moth to a flame, you’re instantly drawn to it. Your breaths have finally steadied. You take quick bouts of whiffs, head craning every which way she drags the piece of cloth.

She leaves you with the handkerchief after letting your arms and legs loose, allowing you to curl up in a ball as you desperately inhale Satoru’s scent. It’s the first thing that has calmed you in hours. Nonetheless, this relief is temporary. Pretty soon you’ll be needing something stronger. Something more potent. Something in its rawest form.

“S-satoru,” you breathe through the handkerchief, staring at the two-way mirror like a faint prayer to the god you know is there. “Shoko, please get me Satoru.” Your words are clear as day, and that’s the first coherent thing you’ve said all day.

Shoko’s eyes dart to where she’s sure Satoru stands. “Do you see it now?” she mouths.

Satoru’s jaw stiffens, stomach now a mangled mess of anticipation and guilt. On the one hand, he’s relieved. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if you’d reacted the same way to Suguru’s scent. On the other hand, he knows what’s going to happen now. Not like he didn’t see this coming.

…

Though she didn’t have to, Shoko chose to make a nest of Satoru’s clothes for you in his own bed. “Thought I’d at least make the effort to help make it romantic, no?”

Except nothing about this is romantic. Jujutsu dorm walls thankfully aren’t thin, but thin enough for him to hear your cries from behind his door.

Satoru takes a second to collect himself, getting square with the fact that this isn’t how he wanted your first time to go. He can smell you from where he stands, forcibly reminding him for every second he delays that you’re in there, waiting for him.

He’s played your first time over and over in his head as he fucked his fist — almost every morning in the shower, once or twice in your room when you were out on a mission, and many, many times in the very bed you’re nestled now. Out of the hundreds of scenarios he’s made up of him making love to you in his head, he’s never once pictured this.

His friends have pestered him about this for so long, urging him to take the first step or else Suguru — and on some occasions, Shoko — won’t hesitate to whisk you off your feet. But he tells them he has his reasons for constantly holding off. He says it’s because you’re perfect for him, and so he wanted your first to be perfect — plain and simple. He says it so matter-of-factly, too. But now, to hell with the perfect scenario because as it turns out, it’s mother nature herself who decides to give him one crazy hell of a push to make a move.

Satoru enters his room. Greeted with the raw and unbound fragrance of your heat, his heart pounds in his chest. He coos upon seeing you hugging his pillow, all plump and ready for him. Suddenly, it registers in his head that he’s seeing you naked for the first time, lying in his bed. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says more to himself, trying to convince himself that this is real — that you’re real.

“‘M sorry, it hurts— hurts so bad, Satoru. ‘M sorry!” He’s sorry it has to be like this, too. But he’s not so sorry that you’d asked for him.

With dried up tears along your cheeks, and fresh ones in your eyes, your cried out voice croaks, “Satoru, help me please. I need you.” You roll on your belly, propping your forearms as you bury your face in his scent, whining into his pillow, back arching + ass perked up, as you shamelessly stroke your pussy to his face. “N-need you now, please, please, please?”

Fuck.

Even now, it melts his heart seeing you so full of want.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’m here aren’t I?”

Satoru doesn’t miss the way your hand grips the sheets as you watch him discard his clothes. He sees the absolute delight in your face, the flexing of your belly, the further bend of your back, the quicker strokes of your fingers around your clit. But it’s the sight of your nectar dripping out of you that finally makes him break.

With how hard he is and how much he wants to devour you like crazy, he could easily be mistaken for an alpha in a rut. He swears his chemical makeup has nothing to do with it. He just wants you that bad.

Suddenly, the space between you and him doesn’t exist. You moan out loud just by being touched by him. He engulfs you in his arms forcing you to sit up, hot skin against even hotter skin, your back pressed flush against his torso as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And your slick — god, your honeyed slick — begins to coat his hard cock speared between your legs and along your puffy folds.

Fuck.

“Sweet angel.” His eyes roll back as he takes in all of your scent.

His cock twitches between your legs, pre-cum starting to drip off his tip. He feels a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach as soon as he gets into contact with your slick. Your touch is so fucking electric. One hand wraps around your stomach while the other reaches for your breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh, feeling your thuds of a heartbeat beneath his palm. You smell so fucking good upclose, your scent keeps hooking and hooking him in, and taking care of you is all he cares about. That's all that matters. He’s holding you now and yet he’s unable to satiate this mad need to be closer to you. He needs to be closer. He needs to make love to you. Needs to be in you—

“S-Satoru.” You guide the hand on your breast, intertwining with his fingers, pressing harder, rougher, against your skin. “You feel so good, Satoru. Please move. N-need more.”

Satoru releases a deep groan in your ear when you bring your knees together, locking his cock between your legs as you begin to grind your pussy on his erection, nectar lubing your every sway.

“E-easy, eaaasy,” Satoru’s voice is low and breathy. He hisses with every roll of your hips, breath hitching as your pussy drags his foreskin back and forth, balls kissing the back of your thighs. Mind hazy with want, he presses his cheek on yours, planting open mouthed and sloppy kisses on the side of your face.

“Not so fast!” Satoru holds your hips in place when you start to pick up the pace, making you whine, “Wha–”

“Too fast, I’m sorry.” Satoru trails apologetic kisses along your jaw. “Not there- don’t want to cum there.”

He apologizes as a tinge of guilt prickles his throat seeing you so utterly vulnerable. Your eyes plead for him to fill you then and there but he needs this moment to last as long as possible, even if it means prolonging your agony.

“S-Satoru, can’t wait any longer!” You try to move your hips but they’re locked in place. 

“No.” He says, firmly, and it hurts to tell you that. “Not yet.” Tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved at the height of your confusion. Your mouth opens, trying to find words, but before you get to complain, he gives you a soft, chaste kiss — your very first one, he realizes — and tells you, “Get down for me.”

And with tears in your eyes, you oblige. He supposes this is the work of the reemergence of your makeup and raging hormones, making you so pliant and submissive, you’re willing to do his bidding even when you’re on the verge of insanity — when, before this, you always had a stubbornness in you he’d always been fond of. But then again, at this very moment, you’re desperate. And you’re desperate for him.

“Satoru, I don’t know what you’re up to b-but please, don’t take long- oh!” Your protests are quickly replaced with cries as you feel a soft, wet muscle slide across your folds. He’s always had that habit of not letting you finish. To think it’s something he takes to bed with him makes your stomach coil. “Fuck!”

Hot breath fans your folds as he splits your slit open with his tongue, and all you can do is shudder in place, wallowing in the extreme pleasure that dozens of toys weren’t able to give you. You’re practically leaking on his face, honey dripping down his chin, the tip of his nose pressing into your ass.

His tongue squelches with every lick, twisting your core in knots with every line drawn. And then it’s as if Satoru’s lips are sealed around your clit, puckering and sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Satoru, oh god. ‘Toru, so good, ‘s so fucking good~” Your eyebrows furrow, lips pursing as he relentlessly flicks his tongue on your clit.

“Oh!” You scream when a honeyed digit enters your ass, thumb hooking and pressing hard against your g-spot, all while his tongue remains fixated on your clit. “Fuck- mmm!”

You can’t help but mewl and cuss into your first orgasm — the first one he granted you, that is — wave of pleasure washing across your body as he eats out your high. And while it’s a sensation that gives you a sense of satisfaction, you’re left wanting more. You’re left needing more.

“Please fill me- can’t wait any longer- please, alpha~”

Oh, now you’ve done it.

“Sorry, love.” Satoru pulls you back into his chest and cups your cheek, making you look over your shoulder and into his face. “Neither can I.”

“Sato- Oh!” Gagged by the feeling of friction in your aching walls, the very first one you had welcomed since your heat, you’re at a loss for words when his cock enters you, bottoming out straight away. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and he instinctively closes the gap, savoring your mouth, and with every click and swirl of your tongues, he thinks you are probably the softest, most delicate thing he’s ever tasted.

He knows he’s screwed, tasting you for the first time, knowing he’ll never want anything other than you, your lips, your pussy, this feeling ever again.

You feel as if every pump of his cock scratches that stubborn itch that’s spread across your pussy since your heat. And every satisfying ram of his hips kisses your cervix, bringing you closer and closer to your high, as if this — his cock, and the feeling of his body rocking your own — has been what’s missing in your life.

“Scream for me, angel,” Satoru grumbles against your ear as he feels himself nearing his own climax. Suddenly, his mouth is back on yours, kissing you, with you purring against his lips as he fucks you through your shared high.

“I–” When his pace comes to a full stop, you know what’s about to come. And he doesn’t know what to say. Shoko’s already briefed him on what’ll happen to an alpha who cums in an omega in heat, not that he doesn’t know what a knot is. He just doesn’t know what to expect. Still, he wants you to take it. Even now, he wants you to want it. But he studies that curious look on your face, and as he scrambles for words, it seems it’s your turn to finally shut him up.

“I love you, Satoru.”

Satoru chuckles. More to himself.

“I love you, too.” Satoru, with breaths uneven, relaxes his forehead against yours. Satoru steadies himself, and pretty soon, you collapse in his arms as his knot locks in your core.

...

"Hey," Satoru breaks the silence. "You know... taking my knot like that means you practically asked me to marry you."

"Shut up."

—

Shoko alternates between looking at you and flipping the pages of the report in her clipboard. It seems that you’re technically back to normal but she’s got that look in her face as if a couple of words are stuck behind her throat.

“It’s fine. Hit me with it,” you prompt. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re now a full-blown omega is what it is,” Shoko says without an ounce of concern in her voice. “But seeing as you’ve got… help now,” Shoko’s eyes dart to Satoru who’s standing in the corner, “there’s really not much to do about it.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle at the playful tension between Satoru and Shoko.

“You’re ‘help’, by the way,” Shoko addresses Satoru.

“A big one, too,” he adds.

“Keep it in your pants.” Shoko puts her clipboard aside and scratches her temple. “Still, it’s insane that this is what finally brought you two together.”

Shoko’s words put a longing, knowing smile to your face. "This silly guy waited too long."

“Hey, if that’s what it took. Who am I to complain?” Satoru shrugs, ego fluffed by the thought that you’re finally his. And the fact that he and you are the only active alpha and omega in the world? How special is that?

pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎

[timmydraker]

Tim’s parents demand a meeting with Bruce and their son himself to discuss the future of their company and Tim’s place in it. Everyone knows they probably want to get in on Bruce’s wealth and business so they might be able to go from millionaires to billionaires like Bruce.

To everyone’s surprise, Tim accepts and says he’ll do it as long as Bruce will stay with him the entire time.

Obviously Dick refuses not to and Damian insist as the ‘true heir’, which makes Jason want to as well just cause he’s not being left out. Duke promises to stay out of it and keep the girls busy so Tim doesn’t feel cornered or smothered in worry.

So, Bruce and his three sons sit on the meeting with Bruce doing most do the talking and Tim sitting on a chair with his brothers all keeping eyes on him.

Jack and Janet try to give pleasantries to their son but he just stared at them, a blank look that even Bruce can’t decipher if only because he’s never seen it before.

Jack does most of the talking, explaining that Tim still has a set aside amount of many and place in the company but that it’s only there because he’s kept the family name. They explain that they would be happy for Tim to take the Wayne name as long as their son gives up his legal place in the company and hands over his personal funds they gifted him willingly.

They subtly explain that they want him to continue to work with the as he works with WE extremely well, and that they could possibly become partners.

Tim would still be the co-CEO of WE as well as COF for Drake Industries but he must… ‘donate’ money to them regularly as a show of good partner ship.

Bruce is furious that they just want money and haven’t acknowledged their son or the fact that he just turned eighteen, but he remains calm and after almost twenty minutes of talking Dick cuts them all off.

“Perhaps-we could ask Tim himself what he thinks of this offer.”

The growing tension both settles and raises as everyone turns to Tim who is sitting like a statue.

He looks like he could be dissociating but there’s a distinct presence in his eyes like he doesn’t want to miss a single word or second.

Jack sits back and gives Tim a stern look, “Well, son? What do you say?”

Tim speaks in the same voice Bruce has heard him talk to clients he doesn’t like, “I’ll accept, I’ll even give my earnings from the company.” Just as Jack and Janet begin to look smug and his family members look shocked he adds, “on one condition.”

Janet looks at him like he’s the most vile creature ever and covers it with a forced smile as Alfred pours more tea for her as a means to appease the clearly nasty woman.

Everyone waits for Tim to state his condition but none of them are ready for when he looks his parents each in the eye and says in the calmest, most level voice the most shocking sentence nace they have ever heard from both Tim and Red Robin:

“I want you to kill yourselves.”

.

..

…

No one speaks.

Jason and Dick look genuinely afraid, Damian looks taken aback though not nearly as shocked as Bruce is with his jaw hanging low.

Alfred for the first time in his life serving the Waynes spills tea and looks at Tim in a way that shows he is genuinely aghast.

Janet and Jack are frozen looking at their son like he’s a different person, which is funny as that implies they knew he was before.

Tim doesn’t smile or gloat, he does nothing to suggest his words were one big joke or last ‘fuck you’ to them.

He sits still and patient, waiting for an answer.

Janet opens her mouth several times to speak but never gets any words out though Jack manages to get over his shock and fury crosses his face. He opens his mouth, most likely to yell or berate his son but Tim beats him to it.

“It’s your choice. I’ve said all I want, so kill yourself or leave.”

Tim picks up his own tea and watches as Jack and Janet storm out of Wayne Manner.

Silence prevails for a while with none of the family talking until Damian breaks the silence, “Holy shit.”

[akimiiyo]

-> JEALOUSY

⌗synopsis : genshin men when they’re jealous.

⌗characters : diluc, kaeya, albedo, zhongli, childe, baizhu, xiao, thoma, ayato, heizou, wanderer, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, dainsleif, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.

⌗cw : gn!reader, not proofread, lowercase intended, probably ooc.

he’s a gentleman, he doesn’t get jealous often because he knows for a fact that he has nothing to worry about. you’ve never done anything that made him feel as if he had to watch out and he’s certain that you never will. although he can still get annoyed at the sight of another man flirting with you. it was his insisting even after you turned him down that angered him the most. nonetheless, he doesn’t let such people interfere with his composure. he’ll act mature and take you somewhere else once he sees that the man has no intentions of leaving you alone. as soon as you both get a moment alone together, however, he won’t hesitate to plant a few more kisses than usual. just in case, y’know?

diluc, zhongli, alhaitham, neuvillette, dainsleif, capitano.

he won’t admit it, but he gets jealous often. he doesn’t want to confront you about it because he believes it’s embarrassing and silly to feel that way. i mean, you’re his and he’s yours. you love him so much, there’s no need to worry, right? yet, he still can’t help but fume at the sight of strangers complimenting you. he can’t blame them, but he still would rather for people to be blind if that meant that they’d leave you alone. he’s aware of how unfair that would be, so he just stays quiet, either sulking or glaring at those people as you offer them a kind smile until you’re both alone where he’ll be needing your utmost attention.

xiao, albedo, thoma, kazuha, kaveh, baizhu.

he’s jealous and he’ll show it. hit on his partner? right in front of him? absolutely not. he might try to keep his calm at first, but as time passes and this scumbag is still around, he won’t hold back. not to worry, he won’t do anything extreme (unless he’s forced to do so), he just wants to make things clear to this guy. he’ll keep it simple at first, simply making subtle comments until he actually starts going straight to the point. after a while, he’ll take your arm and walk away with you, now being angrier than before. the way that guy was talking to him, but especially you, has him furious. be prepared to listen to his angry rant about that random dude. be also prepared to shut him up, you know how.

kaeya, childe, heizou, tighnari, cyno, wanderer, lyney.

this guy almost sees you as his property, his jealousy is unmatched. he won’t take anything lightly. if you’re trying to make advantages on his partner, then you’re asking for it. simple as that! he won’t let anyone think they might have a chance with you because you’re destined to be with him and only him. so obviously, he must make it clear to everybody to not even try. if someone is bold enough though, he’ll just stand beside you, piercing through this man’s soul with his icy gaze. thankfully, nothing ever escalated from that. not that he wouldn’t be capable of doing that, these poor souls simply knew better than to get against someone of that status and reputation.

ayato, dottore, pantalone, pierro.

⌗a/n : im not really proud of this, i might edit it once i have time. it’s 4am and i was supposed to be studying, but i ended up writing this instead. talk about procrastination 😪 let me know if i made any mistakes pls

want to read more? take a look at my masterlist!

©2024 akimiiyo. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

[daechwitatamic]

cherrybomb || csc

(banner by @sailorrhansol)

cherrybomb seungcheol x afab reader || angst smut fluff || exes2lovers, pacific rim universe NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: Piloting a jaeger requires a rare ability called drifting - a neural connection with your co-pilot. You and Seungcheol are masters of the drift... until you have something in your head that you don't want him to see.

wc: 19.5k

warnings: language, heavy angst with happy ending, fight scenes, fight scenes written by an author with zero fighting or martial arts knowledge lmfao thus they are vague as possible, feelings heavy plot light and smut light, kissing and pretty generic (and brief) p in v smut

Author's note: thank you for @sailorrhansol for 1) accidentally sparking this idea, 2) agreeing to collab with me, 3) reading this along the way and hyping me up, and 4) beta-ing my mistakes, a million smooches for you ily

This fic takes place in the Pacific Rim universe but I honestly don't think you need to know the lore, everything you need to know should be explained. If you think something is unclear without prior pacific rim knowledge, shoot me a message privately and I'll make some edits and credit you for the insight!

Also in this universe: storm breaker by @/sailorhansol

Teaser:

“Marshall, with all due respect, I don’t know why you’re calling me,” you admit. “You were there. You saw what happened. Seungcheol and I can’t drift anymore.”

“You couldn’t then,” he points out. “That was three years ago. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift… they’ve had time to mellow.”

He’s wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing has mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did then.

“Have you talked to him about this?” You’re afraid of the answer. 

The Marshall’s voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. “Mr. Choi will follow orders,” he says evenly, “and so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.”

“You can’t order us into being able to drift again,” you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest. 

“No,” the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, “but I can - and will - order you to try.”

Playlist: you're the smoke in my gun, blowin' like cherry bombs...

The first time you ever saw Choi Seungcheol, he was flipping a man four years his senior over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground. Satisfied, he staggered backwards, chest heaving from exertion, eyes narrowed in preparation for the next move.

That’s what Seungcheol did - he leveled whatever was in front of him, and he started watching for what was coming next before the body could even hit the ground.

That’s what made him a great jaeger pilot. Not the brute strength - strong men are dime a dozen, always have been - but the watching.

You’d marked him as your first choice.

You were both nineteen. You’d grown up in the Shatterdome, the only child to a couple who piloted a neon green jaeger named Charron’s Revenge. You knew everything about how jaegers and their teams worked by the time you were nine. You started training to fight years before that. There was never a question that you would follow in your parents’ giant, mechanical footsteps one day. You just needed the right partner.

You needed Seungcheol.

The jaeger program didn’t turn away recruits - everyone could do something - but there was an organized process to match up compatible pilots. Applying recruits would fight before an audience of previously-accepted but currently-unmatched potential pilots. The pilots would rank the fighters, choosing their top five based on perceived potential for compatibility.

Then, the roles would switch. The applicants became the audience. The audience became the show.

When it was your turn to fight, you silently pleaded with the universe that Seungcheol would mark you high as well. This was the only guarantee that you’d get a chance to spar with him, to test it out before the Marshall, who would make the final call.

Let him see, you begged. Let him see how perfectly we’d work together.

And, by some miracle, he did. In fact, he rated you first, as well.

Your sparring match went exactly how you expected - he barreled at you, and you dodged every move. He could easily take you out with a single blow, but he couldn’t get his hands on you, not when you used his own inertia against him at every turn. What you didn’t expect was your own inability to land a shot. For the whole fight, you were unable to move out of the defensive - keeping out of his reach took all of your effort.

It was a draw - the first sign of strong compatibility.

You didn’t talk after the match - your father whisked you away to recover before your second-rated match, and you didn’t see Seungcheol for the rest of the day.

The second-rated match was a dud. But you already knew, even then, that it didn’t matter.

You’d met your co-pilot. You’d found your partner.

—

He found you in the mess hall that night, dropping into an empty spot on the other side of the table, his tray in his hands. His black hair was loose and wavy, and his right arm sported a sizeable bruise that he definitely didn’t get from you.

“I know who you are,” he said by way of greeting. You raised a brow at him, waiting. “Your parents piloted Charron’s Revenge.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That better not be why you picked me.”

He gave his head an annoyed little flick. “Of course not. I picked you because you’re fluid - and I’m not.”

Appeased, you felt your hackles settle back down. “That’s true,” you allowed. “You’re not fluid. But you’re purposeful, and-”

You were interrupted when Yoon Jeonghan dropped into the seat to your left, chuckling under his breath as he fixed his long, dark hair into a spiky ponytail at the back of his head.

“Cherry, did you hear?” he asked you, ignoring the new-comer. “The crew for Fatal Rapids got called back in for misconduct.”

“Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan,” you said, introducing the two young men. “Hannie does more than gossip, I promise. He’s one of the pilots for Devil’s Advocates. Their drop stats are insane.”

“In practice only,” Jeonghan demurred. “For now.”

“Cherry?” Seungcheol parroted, raising a dark brow. “That’s not what I wrote on my paper earlier.”

“Just a nickname,” you explained. When you were very small, you’d struggled with the name of your parents’ jaeger, calling it Cherry’s Revenge instead of Charron’s, and the crew - who doted on you like their own - started the habit of calling you Cherry. Somehow, it had spread, and stuck. “Only my parents use my real name. But you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“No,” he said, frowning as if deeply considering his options. “I like it.”

You folded your arms on the table, leaning in to peer at Seungcheol. “So, what’s your story? You’ve heard of me. I haven’t heard of you.”

He shrugged, glanced around, then decided he could talk freely. There’s something about being in a room that’s positively teeming with people and conversation - it gives you privacy without feeling too intimate. You’re not alone.

“Not much of a story, not like you,” he admitted. “I grew up thinking I’d take over my dad’s business. We lost my dad… then, we lost the business. I have no marketable skillset, and university was out of the question. But…” He trailed off, then met your gaze firmly. Something in his look demanded you forgo any pity or sympathy, demanded you take him seriously. “I’m strong. So I came here. I came to fight.”

You sidestepped the bruises he’d bared. “Not like me,” you repeated with a bit of a scoff. “I hate to disappoint you, but my parents are the pilots - the story is theirs. I don’t have one, not yet.”

Something playful glinted in his eyes, the first true sign of personality you’d seen. “So all the rumors about the Princess of the Shatterdome aren’t true?”

Your jaw dropped. You’d heard the nickname before - it was never meant nicely. You tried to ignore it as best you could - people could think what they wanted. When you had a crew, when you had a jaeger, you’d be able to prove them wrong. “What rumors?”

“You’re spoiled,” Jeonghan supplied, having decided he was part of the conversation after all. “Entitled.”

You spluttered as Jeonghan stood, giving you a cheerful pat on the shoulder. “And bitchy! That’s just what I’ve heard. Of course I know better. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Love ya!”

You stared incredulously after him as he disappeared, your face burning with embarrassment and your heart hammering with adrenaline. Fight, your systems told you.

If only you could.

Seungcheol bit back a smile, reaching out to pat your arm placatingly.

“I don’t…” you started to say, but your voice caught in your throat. You cleared it, tried again. “I don’t think I really deserve all that.”

He nodded, lips pushed into a semblance of a thoughtful pout. “What I’d heard,” he said calmly, “is that you’re a hell of a fighter, scary smart, and that you take no shit. Unless it’s from your friends, apparently.”

This made a bitter little laugh bubble from you. You still simmered with humiliation, feared that maybe he’d decide he didn’t want to co-pilot with you after all.

“I think it’s up to you which story gets told,” he said finally.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “That’s what I always said. So… let’s get started.”

—

You and Seungcheol lucked out - the team that had been recalled for misconduct were terminated from their posts in the weeks following the sparring trials, and their jaeger Fatal Rapids had been disassembled, the parts up for grabs.

You and Seungcheol repurposed Rapids’s main frame, your crew working to individualize the bot to your needs as best they could. You splurged on quad-processors for her legs to allow your jaeger to keep up with how you move - quick and lithe. Seungcheol lobbied for (and won) some extra power in the top half, and you compromised and chose a mix of red and blue sections for her paintjob.

Duellona Fury, you named her. Duellona for you, the destroyer. Fury for Seungcheol, because that was where his fight came from.

You got to know Seungcheol’s fury very well. Especially when you started trying to drift.

None of it happened fast - not the building of your machine, nor your neural handshake. In fact, you didn’t pilot Duellona Fury together for a whole calendar year.

You started with physical compatibility - you sparred almost all day, every day. You fought - with each other and against each other - until all you could do was lay on the ground and pant, blinking to make the ceiling stay in focus.

Seungcheol may not have grown up training in the Shatterdome the way you did, but he kept up without complaint. You learned his way - force and strength - and he learned the way you favored - to weave and dodge.

The fighting was the easy part.

You had never drifted with someone you had true drift compatibility with. Seungcheol had never drifted at all. The Marshall wouldn’t even consider hooking the two of you up to the machine until you went through the proper training.

On the day you and Seungcheol were officially declared as co-pilots-in-training, you both stood below the half-built shell of your towering jaeger, sparks flying and drills screaming as the crew worked on her.

Your Marshall looked seriously at his new team-in-training. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll meditate together. Talk to each other. Get deep about it. If you’ve talked about it out here-” he swept an arm across the deck, “-it won’t take hold so strongly in there.” He’d jabbed a finger in the upward direction of Duellona Fury.

Seungcheol didn’t look at you, nor the Marshall. Instead, he kept his eyes on Duellona's unfinished frame, stories above you. “Yes, Sir,” he said steadily.

Your parents weren’t technically retired yet, the year you and Seungcheol started training together. Charron’s Revenge still sat in the well below the Shatterdome. They still lived on the base, still took part in daily training. They hadn’t been called into a fight in years, though; the assignments went to the younger crews.

You took dinner in their quarters instead of the mess hall, that night.

“Congratulations,” your father said warmly from across the table. “You worked hard to get here.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling shy beneath the praise. “I hope the drift will work for me and Choi Seungcheol.”

“What do you think of him?” your mother had asked, her sharp eyes honing in on you, watching your reactions.

“I think he’s a great fighter,” you said. “The rest… I guess I’ll have to learn.”

“Do you trust him? Can you trust him out there, when the sea and the wind are trying to knock you down, and hell itself rises up from the depths?”

You swallowed. She’s right for her intensity - they will be putting their daughter’s life in her co-pilot’s hands, every time there’s a fight. You knew firsthand how terrifying it was to stand in the tech bay and wait, not knowing if your loved ones will make it back.

You thought about how you and Seungcheol fight together in the sparring rooms. You thought about how you weaved and your opponent followed your movement, only to be knocked sideways. You thought of how Seungcheol followed your motion backwards, ducked in tandem with you to avoid a hit, and how you followed his momentum forward and up to attack. Your bodies followed each other like they were magnetized. And Seungcheol was always watching for the next hit.

“Yes,” you said, so quietly that you cleared your throat and said it again. “Yes, I trust him.”

“Then we wish you luck,” your father said, and raised his glass. “To Duellona Fury.”

“To Duellona Fury,” you echoed.

On your way out of the quarters, later, you slowed as you passed the wall where they hung their accolades and awards, the newspaper clippings, photos, and medals. Before your eyes they aged - the photographs changing through the years, no longer showing a bright, fiery couple, instead displaying proof of passing time: a baby bump, then a toddler, then a child beaming alongside them as if she’d done what they had done; greying hairs, softening bodies, deepening of wrinkles. Then the pictures stopped.

You never asked them if they missed it.

—

You and Seungcheol started meditating together the next morning; it seemed logical to begin at the easiest step. In an empty sparring room, you sat facing each other, knees touching.

“Have you done this before?” you asked, as you both settled in, shifting weight and adjusting ankles.

“Not with someone else,” he admitted, lips protruding in a bit of a pout. “Only alone.”

You nodded. You’d grown up learning all of this - the right way to fight as a team member, how to be in tune for a neural connection. It led to you teaching Seungcheol often - yet when you fought together, any leadership fell away.

“Normally,” you explained, “you focus on your breath, keeping your mind clear. But for our practice, you want to focus on our breath. We breathe together. And when your mind wanders, your awareness should be coming to peace with my presence there. Like, making a path for the neural connection - for later. So there’s no resistance.”

“Have you done this before?” Seungcheol asked.

You wobbled your head around - not yes, but not no. “I’ve practiced it - I’ve done the meditation with partners. But I’ve never moved forward to an actual drift with anyone.”

This seemed to appease him, and he settled his weight backwards, letting his hands rest near his knees.

You let your eyes float closed and inhaled, listening and feeling for Seungcheol’s inhale to end, letting your breath out when he did. It took no time to match your breaths, to let your mind go blissfully quiet. You focused on feeling open, readable - any thought that floated through your mind, you pretended he could hear, too. You tried to feel and release any defensiveness, any urge to close off.

When the timer went off, it surprised you. You opened your eyes, and the feeling that struck you was this -

It was surprising to see Seungcheol before you. It hadn’t felt like he was beside you. It had felt like he was you.

You meditated, you fought, and finally, you talked.

Laying on the sparring room floor, your head somewhere near Seungcheol’s shins, he asked you, “Where do you wish you were right now? If you weren’t here.”

You laughed at yourself before answering, knowing how silly you would sound. “In a tree.”

A disbelieving smile played on his lips, almost as if he wasn’t sure you weren’t making fun of him somehow. “A tree?”

“No, really,” you insisted, still smiling a little. “There’s not a lot of nature here, in case you didn’t notice. I grew up in the Dome - never got to leave, much.”

Seungcheol didn’t respond to this, just nodded like he understood, his small smile going a bit tight around the edges.

You frowned, reading him exactly. “You think I’m sheltered,” you observed. It wasn’t a question. He couldn’t say no.

He looked at you, then. “You were sheltered,” he said, voice low. “But when I say it, I don’t mean naive. I just think… there’s a lot of world out there. A lot of things to see. You won’t see any of it if you spend your entire life under the Dome.”

You nod, accepting this. “I won’t see any of it if it gets destroyed, either. There’s a lot of world out there - that we’re trying to keep safe.”

Seungcheol watched you intently for a moment, lips downturned and gaze heavy. Then, he asked, “Have you ever seen a kaiju? I mean - in person?”

“Sort of,” you mumbled.

He’d rolled from his back to his front, closer to you, putting you shoulder to shoulder. “Kind of seems like a yes-or-no question.”

Your lips twisted. “Then, no. But I’ve stood in the bay and listened to Mission Control talk my mom and dad through a fight dozens of times, watched Charron’s Revenge on the screens and prayed I wouldn’t see her get sawed in half.”

You stopped, trailed a finger through the thin layer of dirt on the floor. “I know it’s not the same as looking one in the face myself,” you whispered. “But the fear… shouldn’t that fear count, shouldn’t it feel the same?”

Seungcheol swallowed, trailed his own finger through the dirt until his fingertip just barely touched yours. It felt like energy sizzled in the centimeter between your pointer and his.

“When Menaceclaw attacked,” he said, “he missed my home by one block. We watched him go by from the sidewalk. I wasn’t even as tall as his foot. But even with him towering over the buildings, taking them down without even trying, I don’t think what I felt was afraid. I think I just felt resigned. Like I knew, at seven, that even though we survived this one… nothing was going to be… the same, or okay. I don’t know.”

“You knew what you lost,” you said quietly. “Part of you did.”

He looked up at you, nudged his finger into yours. “You never knew anything different. It wasn’t a loss. The fear was just always part of the deal.”

You rolled sideways, laying your head on your bicep for a pillow, regarding the dark-eyed, dark-haired young man across from you. His face scrunched in a laugh, brows furrowing and lips pouting.

“What?” he asked through the quiet laugh. “Why are you looking at me?”

“What else?” you mused. “What else am I going to find when we go tiptoeing through your memories?”

He smiled faintly and then mirrored you, laying his head on his arm, his eyes swimming as he thought.

“A lot of my family, probably,” he said. “A lot of fighting. Menaceclaw. Probably some very mid sex.”

You laughed without meaning to. “My condolences?”

He grinned at you, pleased. “Eh, what can you do? I try to treat everything like a learning experience.”

You laughed again, and his smile grew, gums showing. “What about you?” he asked off-handedly.

“Mid sex?” you asked, eyebrows raising. “I hate to inform you, Choi Seungcheol, but I don’t do anything mid.”

“No,” he protested, laughing, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. “I meant - what will we see when it’s your turn?”

“The Dome,” you said, half-joking - but it was true. “Training. My parents. Their fights, their accomplishments.”

And, as a true drift partner should, he understood what you weren’t saying.

“We’ll have our turn,” he promised, pushing himself to sit up, then stand, reaching down to help you up. “We’re gonna be fucking unstoppable. Let’s go again.”

Fire sparking behind your ribs, you nodded seriously, then reached up to take his hand.

—

Weeks of sparring melded into months of meditation and talking. The next phase of training co-pilots was learning to drift in one of the simulators - but not in a jaeger. Not yet.

You and Seungcheol finished training in one of the sparring rooms shortly before dinner would be served in the mess hall.

“Meet you there?” you asked, still half-breathless, your body starting to ache as the adrenaline from a fight melted away.

“Sure,” he agreed, and you disappeared into the changing rooms, scrubbing the sweat and dirt away as quickly as you could. You changed into something clean and made your way to the mess hall.

You scanned for familiar faces, frowning when your normal table seemed to be occupied by a team of new recruits that you didn’t know.

Seungcheol appeared at your elbow, frowning dramatically. “Our table,” he whined.

“There’s Chan and Wylie,” you said, nodding to another corner where your friends sat practically on top of each other. Chan and Wylie had never understood personal space, not when it came to one another. They barely noticed when you and Seungcheol plopped onto the benches next to them, but Seungkwan did.

“You’re bleeding, Cherry,” he said, before inhaling an entire mouthful of rice.

You started to scan your arms - you didn’t feel pain anywhere - but Seungcheol found it first, gingerly swiping his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Sorry, Cherry,” he murmured. “I should’ve pulled that punch.”

“No you shouldn’t have,” you grumbled, swatting at his hand and wiping roughly at the spot, your hand coming away with a small smear of red - nothing to be alarmed about. It would stop on its own. “You pull shots in practice, you’ll hesitate in the field.”

“She’s right,” Chan said from his physical tangle with Wylie. “What you practice will show up in your muscle memory. You’ve got to mean it, every time.”

Wylie reached across his arms and took a bite from his plate, then asked, “Did you guys see the new jaeger?”

“I did,” Seungkwan said eagerly. “Chaser Supernova, or something like that? She’s smaller, but she’s supposed to be fast.”

“Is that her team at our normal table?” you asked dryly, shooting the rookies a dark look over your shoulder. Seungcheol jostled you playfully, sending you a smile that brought you back.

The bench dipped to your left, and you turned to see Soonyoung - one of Seungkwan’s two co-pilots - settle in.

“Talking about Supernova?” he asked, hands busy opening his drink. “They seem okay - they’re a trio, like us.”

“Where is Seokmin?” Seungkwan asked, scanning the room. “I haven’t seen him in like two hours.”

“Talking to Jihoon, I think,” Soonyoung answered absently, focused on his meal. “He lost another co-pilot today.”

“Not again,” you and Seungcheol both blurted, matching levels of exasperation.

“That was freaky,” Wylie said, just as Chan told you, “You two are acting like us, now.”

“We do not need another Chan-and-Wylie,” Seungkwan said seriously, shaking his head.

Seungcheol sent you a sideways, sheepish grin.

“We won’t be,” he promised the group, but his eyes were still on you.

—

The simulators were built to be exact replicas of the conn-pod, so that trainees could get used to the feeling of being strapped in, of moving with the gear. But the real purpose was to practice the neural handshake without risking damage - to the jaeger, to the tech bay, to each other.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told Seungcheol as the tech team worked around you both like a choreographed dance.

“I’m never nervous,” he said, suddenly cocky.

If you could reach his hand from where you were strapped in, you would have. If you understood anything about Seungcheol - if any part of him mirrored you - it was the way he showcased bravado, the way he used it as his most-familiar mask.

“It’s only practice,” you reminded him. “And it’s only me.”

He licked his lips quickly, eyes darting to the side and then back to you. Then, he gave you a small nod.

“Normally,” your chief tech - a beautiful woman with jet-black hair named Nainsi - told you, “right now, you would be ready for the drop. In the simulator, we skip that step because we aren’t dropping onto a jaeger. Instead, we’ll engage the pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence.”

You and Seungcheol nod in tandem.

“You’re all good?” Nainsi checks. “Then I’m going back into the tech bay - you’ll hear me through the intercom.”

Alone in the simulator, you met Seungcheol’s gaze and couldn’t help the excited grin that spread across your face. Finally, finally you were here. Once you could do this successfully, the next step was to fight in your own jaeger - to drop into Duellona Fury and walk into the sea.

He didn’t return your smile, instead giving you a tight nod, expression serious.

Over the intercom, you said clearly, “Ready and aligned.”

Nainsi answered, “Prepare for neural handshake.”

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself as the artificial voice of the simulator’s tech system spoke around you, 3… 2… 1… neural handshake initiating…

At first, you thought something went wrong. Everything went red behind your eyelids, and you blinked, instinctively trying to clear it away.

The red faded, and you found yourself in Seungcheol’s childhood home. You didn’t know how you knew that - you just knew. It was as familiar to you, inside the drift, as your own. You knew that to your left was a small kitchen with two broken floor tiles; you knew - without having ever seen it - that to your right was a narrow hallway that led to a bathroom and two small bedrooms.

Two small boys played on the carpet; rather, the smaller one played with some toy cars while the other watched the television with rapture. Behind them, at the kitchen table, a woman typed busily on an outdated laptop, bags heavy under her eyes.

Somewhere around you, a voice floated by, telling you, neural handshake strong and holding.

You could see Seungcheol in your periphery - the adult Seungcheol, the Seungcheol of now - as he looked at his mother, his brother, himself.

“It’s not real,” you reminded him gently. “It’s just a memory.”

“I know,” he said back, voice hushed, as if he might scare them away. “It’s just… good to see them.”

The house evaporated as gently as morning dew under a mid-morning sun; you stood in a schoolyard. Seungcheol, the small one, had a bloody lip and a mean swing.

You felt a rush of affection for him - him, the child, face contorting with misplaced anger, using strength as a bandage. You wanted to stand in front of him, between him and the anger, him and the other kids, and let him take a breath. You wanted to tell him to step with his punch to get more power. You wanted to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him, you’re going to be fine.

And he knew all of it, because he was in your mind.

Seungcheol - your Seungcheol - walked away from the swarm of children egging on the fight and opened a door. You followed.

Inside was not the school, but a hospital room. Your body jolted forward, distracting and alarming. You heard, faintly, a series of beeps, that robotic voice needling in your ears, saying, calibration failure… recalibrating in 3… 2… 1…

“It’s only a memory,” you said again, but the warning beeps were coming stronger, louder, more clearly. The hospital room looked opaque, and Seungcheol walked backwards towards you, away from it, herding you both out of the room. The room - a bed, a pulled curtain, a lot of white - flickered, like a glitch, and then vanished, leaving you standing in the simulator.

Neural handshake disengaged…

“Seungcheol!” you yelled, pulling your helmet off and wheeling on him as best you could with most of your body still strapped in. “What the hell was that? You pushed me out!”

He was breathing hard, eyes a little wild. “Not that,” he said, a little ragged. “I’ll let you in but - not that.”

“You don’t get to choose!” you snapped. Part of you knew this was just growing pains, he’d never drifted before, he was learning. But the rest of you smarted and stung - both from his rejection and from your failure to train, to succeed, to check off this final step before you could get inside your jaeger. “It’s kind of an all-or-nothing thing!”

He let out a billow of air, reaching a hand up to rub at his face. “Sorry. I’ll… let’s try again.”

You didn’t answer, fuming silently instead.

“I’m sorry, Cherry,” he said. “The stuff with my dad…”

“You can’t cherry-pick what we see and what we don’t,” you fired back. His eyes shot to yours and his mouth quirked and you read the joke all over his face. “Don’t you laugh, Seungcheol, it’s not funny!”

But you were laughing through the scolding.

“Stop,” you whined.

Your anger defused, he looked at you again, taking a bracing breath. “It’s not about you,” he tried to explain. “I’m not keeping you out. I’m keeping me out.”

“Don’t chase the rabbit,” you told him, shaking your head. “See what it wants you to see and move on. Find the next door. If you stand there and let your hurt - or your, I don’t know… grief - rise up… that’s when we’re going to have trouble.”

“Find the next door,” he repeated, eyes on the floor. “Got it.”

“You can’t push it away,” you reminded him, “but you don’t have to stay in it, either.”

He nodded, eyes already lighting up, ready to go again.

The second time, you saw him steel himself before opening that same door, watching carefully as he shuffled inside, only looking sideways at the hospital room that materialized around you.

“Seungcheol.”

He turned to look at you, wide-eyed, but you hadn’t called him. The voice, weak and hoarse, had come from the other side of the fluttering curtain.

The glitching started almost immediately - the image around you flickering like a bad wall projection. Something rocked beneath your feet, an earthquake only inside your minds.

You opened your mouth, started to tell him, you don’t have to stay, to remind him that he could move forward. Instead, you heard yourself say, “I’m here.”

The tremors under your feet quivered to a stop. You watched with trepidation and Seungcheol closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Then, he held his hand out, waiting.

You slipped your hand into his, and then he turned and continued walking, ignoring his father’s memory calling out to him. The flickering stopped, the picture you were part of brightening again as you found the next door, stepped through, left his pain behind.

—

It got easier quickly. Seungcheol’s ability to press on, to maintain focus, strengthened.

The strolls through your mind went easier - you’d had years to practice maintaining focus, waiting until after to let the emotions hit you.

Seungcheol learned to be ready for you, after. He’d sit with you, silent, and breathe in tandem as you worked to let go, to release the images of Charron’s Revenge on the tech bay screen, the sounds of your parents’ frantic communication as they fought together, the fear crawling its way up your legs every time until someone in the bay said, “Charron’s Revenge, cleared to return.” The loneliness of being the only kid in the Dome, having no outlet except fighting. Everything that threatened your mind while you piloted, everything that you had to save for later - save for him.

You were both freshly turned twenty when you got green-lit to drive.

“Seungcheol!” you called across the mess hall, practically racing to your table. He turned, eyebrows raised, as you crossed the large room.

“We’re approved to drop!” you told him excitedly. It churned in you - finally, finally you could fight, you could prove what you could do, you could help. “We’re on the drop schedule for tomorrow!”

His grin was unfettered, unfiltered, just for you. He reached up a fist and you bumped it enthusiastically. You were too excited to eat, too excited to sleep. You tossed and turned, imagining experiencing a drop for the first time, imagining striding through the mighty sea like it was nothing, imagining staring down hell itself and bringing it to its knees.

You were still awake when you heard the alarms down the hall. Yours didn’t go off, because you weren’t on duty, weren’t approved to fight.

Down the hall, there was a flurry of commotion - shouting, rushing, people pushing past you as they pulled on boots and jackets.

“Cat-3 in the west bay,” someone shouted.

“Deploying Devil’s Advocate!”

You reached the tech bay, trying to stay out of the way but not unseen. When the Marshall strode by, you stepped sideways.

“Let us drop,” you said quickly, knowing time was precious. “It’ll be like practice. We can be back-up. We’ll hang back.”

“Absolutely not,” the Marshall said, already moving to work past you. “You’re not approved yet. We don’t need a liability right now.”

“We’re scheduled for tomorrow!” you protested, and then you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll get our turn,” Seungcheol told you quietly. Of course he’d come out, of course he found you.

You deflated. “It could have been us. We are hours from approval.”

He gave your shoulder a tiny shake. “We’ll get our turn,” he repeated. “Don’t make trouble.”

You glowered, but you knew he was right. “Fine,” you grumbled as Joshua and Jeonghan slinked past you in matching jackets and matching shit-eating grins. You stayed out of the way as they prepared to drop.

You stayed through the fight, listened to the control room buzz and chatter, until you heard, “Devil’s Advocate, cleared to return.”

Only then did you try to go back to sleep. Seungcheol gave your shoulder one more squeeze.

“Tomorrow,” he promised.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated.

—

Some people feel God at church. The history of tradition and the sanctity of ritual speak to them, help them feel part of something, help them feel that unnameable swell of something spiritual.

Some people feel God in nature. The patterns of the universe, the way math exists without human touch, the harmonies and patterns that seem too intricate for coincidence help them believe in a planner’s touch. The beauty of the outdoors allows them to wonder, to feel like they belong as a piece of this clockwork.

But you - you felt God when you stood before your jaeger, marveling at the power, the beauty, how it feels like yours, how it feels like Seungcheol before you’re even inside it. Duellona Fury promises you power, promises you purpose.

That hand was on your shoulder again, and it slid down to the center of your back before removing itself.

Beside you, Seungcheol stared up at your glorious machine.

“She looks sick,” he said, the grin taking over his face.

“I can’t wait to fuck shit up,” you murmured, your reverent tone at odds with the flippancy of your words.

“Ready?” the Marshall asked you, coming up to your left. “We’ll get you calibrated and dropped, and then you’ll do a lap of the bay. We’re sending out Pretty Savage just in case you run into trouble.”

The defensiveness rose in you quick, like a snakebite.

“We don’t need a babysitter,” Seungcheol said, voice hard. You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze - a reminder to watch it, just as his hand on your shoulder frequently did for you.

“It’s just safety protocol.” The Marshall was unphased by the outburst. “Have fun, you two. Enjoy your first joy-ride.”

You screamed when you dropped, the exhilaration rushing out of you as Duellona Fury fell story after story before slowing and attaching to your jaeger’s mainframe.

Goosebumps raised along your arms when the Shatterdome’s sea-doors slid open, shudders traveling your body as you and Seungcheol stepped together, Duellona Fury stepping with you, her gigantic, metal form following every movement.

For the first time in your whole, careful life, you felt powerful. Your jaeger cut through the ocean waves like they were nothing, making an easy perimeter of the bay. In your head, you could somehow both hear and feel Seungcheol’s delight, his low-simmering desire to fight, to do something a perfect mirror of your own.

“How is it?” Soonyoung’s voice crackled in your ears, reminding you that Pretty Savage wasn’t far behind you.

“Incredible,” Seungcheol answered him, at the same time that you said, “It’s everything.”

It didn’t matter that you came from a family of pilots. It didn’t matter that you were raised in the Dome, training since you were young. None of that mattered. You were born for this - born to fight for your planet, born for Duellona Fury, born for Choi Seungcheol.

—

The west bay became Duellona’s playground; you and Seungcheol were often assigned to patrol there.

It was only a few months in that you faced a kaiju for the first time.

“Come in, Duellona Fury,” Nainsi’s voice came through. “We have a reading just a few miles north of you. Cat-2. Approaching at -”

Duellona Fury was turning due north before the command was even given.

“Are you ready for this?” you shouted to Seungcheol as Duellona slid through the water, the adrenaline singing in your system already.

“You know I am,” he answered, something hard in it, and the thrill in your stomach sparked.

When the sea split in half, the kaiju rising from the depths with an unearthly roar, you sank into a defensive stance, feeling Seungcheol move beside you, doing the same.

“Let’s fucking go,” Seungcheol said darkly, and launched forward, your arms rearing back for momentum before the first swing. The punch landed solidly, your whole body shaking once as the kaiju faltered backwards a few steps.

It opened its mouth and you glimpsed three rows of teeth bigger than a cow before it was lunging at you; Duellona Fury lurched. You tried to duck sideways as Seungcheol tried to move towards your opponent.

The moment of indecision cost you - the kaiju got its teeth on Duellona’s shoulder, knocking you back several steps. Beside you, Seungcheol roared as sparks flew near the bite.

“Are we breached?” you yelled, trying to steady your balance again.

“Not yet!” he yelled back, and you swung again, a hit landing hard enough to knock the kaiju loose, spitting it back into the sea.

You tried to move into a defensive crouch again; again, the jaeger faltered.

“Cherry!” Seungcheol yelled, desperation laced in his voice. “Cherry, don’t fight me!”

“Move with me!” you answered, and he did, miraculously, Duellona dodging left before an incoming attack.

Don’t fight me.

You rocked forward with Seungcheol as soon as you were clear of the kaiju’s trajectory, just as you’d done in practice thousands of times. Back in sync, Duellona Fury landed a kick to the kaiju’s middle that sent it stumbling.

“We’ve got him,” you said, feeling a win.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Seungcheol warned you. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the kaiju exploded from the dark ocean, limbs flailing as it flew towards you.

Duellona’s arms came up and locked it in battle, the impact shaking you so hard that your teeth chattered against each other. You groaned with exertion as you tried to match its strength.

“I don’t think we can hold it,” you managed through grit teeth.

“We’ve got this,” your partner promised, and with a mighty shove, you managed to flip the beast over your shoulder and beneath the waves.

“Drop the bombs and head for the east side,” you said quickly, already moving. Duellona Fury followed your command, turning and starting an easy run through the bay’s churning waters, away from where the kaiju was struggling to its feet, furious and vengeful. As she ran, she dropped three small explosives, about sixty feet apart. The explosives slipped into the ocean depths.

“Ready?” Seungcheol asked, a little breathless. “Are we far enough away?”

“Light him up,” you replied. Seungcheol reached up and tapped the button; somewhere behind you, the ocean exploded.

—

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, later, in the med bay.

“Not that bad,” Seungcheol said, but you could see the blood-stains on the bandaging.

“It won’t happen again,” you promised. “I think I just… practiced alone for so long. I forgot to listen. I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol shook his hand, eyes finding yours. “There’s nothing to forgive, Cherry. Forget about it.” Then, he brightened. “You know what I want to do?”

“What?” you asked, not entirely past feeling guilty.

His smile was devilish. “I want to go celebrate our first fucking kill.”

– 

You marked the passing of two years in statistics.

Three hundred and forty-six explosives detonated.

Two hundred and eighty-three drops. Two hundred and eight-three kills. 

Seventy-two mainframe repairs.

Twenty-eight achievement awards.

Nine television interviews.

Six upgrades.

One ill-informed “vacation” during which you both itched with anxiety, spending the whole time messaging your friends back in the Shatterdome desperately, praying you wouldn’t miss a fight in which you were needed.

Seven hundred and thirty days of living in and around Seungcheol’s mind and heart. But that stat should’ve gone first.

It was a good high. Your team had a good run.

It wasn’t a kaiju that reduced it to ash, not an attack that took your team out of the rotation of main fighters and sent your jaeger to gather rust and dust below the Dome. It was your own stupid heart.

There were a lot of moments that could have been it. Each time you walked into a fight knowing the danger, each time he ended up in the med bay reeking of antibacterial ointment and resentment. Each time you slid into your place beside him - space he saved only for you. Each time his voice bidding you goodnight from the bottom bunk was the last thing you heard at the end of the day. Any of these moments might have been the one to make you stop, gasp, suddenly slammed with understanding. That you loved him, that he was everything you couldn’t bear to be without, that he was part of you. But they weren’t.

There was no moment of realization at all.

Instead, it slowly seeped into your consciousness, as gently and naturally as morning dew collecting on pre-dawn petals. The knowledge clung to you, as impossible to ignore as damp feet after running barefoot through the yard just after sunrise.

If you knew something, that meant your co-pilot would know it, too.

Unless you tucked it away, pushed it down deep and cast his attention elsewhere, a mental sleight-of-hand. Look here instead. 

You were twenty-three, on a routine patrol, when Mission Control radioed Duellona that there was a reading in the bay.

“Looks like it’s only a Cat-1,” Mission Control told you.

“On it,” you told them, feeling your body already mirroring Seungcheol’s as Duellona picked up her pace, striding through the waves. 

You glanced sideways at him, and immediately wished you hadn’t. He was already zoned in, eyes focused and jaw sharp as he concentrated. 

He caught your gaze for only a second. “Focus, Cherry,” he cautioned. “Don’t get cocky.”

“I would never,” you retorted, and he laughed. You were both cocky; you both knew it.

For a second, things felt better. 

The fight was almost easy, when the ocean seemed to split in two and the waves fell away like wrapping paper to reveal the kaiju you’d been sent for. 

You swung and ducked, dropping explosives strategically, Seungcheol moving in unison with you. There was something graceful about it - something beautiful in the sync, something holy in the way your muscles mimicked each other’s. 

This is what happens when sunlight hits morning dew: it warms, lifts, makes the air humid and sticky until it burns away. 

It rose up in you, your love for him, infusing the air around you, infusing the neural handshake that he was deeply imbedded in.

No. 

You panicked, tried to do several things at once - tried to shove the feeling down, tried to think of something else, tried to push Seungcheol’s consciousness out of yours.

Duellona Fury lurched around you, shuddering. 

“Cherry!” Seungcheol screamed to your left, and then the kaiju hit, its full weight slamming into Duellona’s mainframe.

You both staggered, trying to right yourselves, as the machines around you blinked and beeped and rebooted. 

Seungcheol grunted under the neural weight of driving alone as you gasped and closed your eyes, trying desperately to fix it. Around you, you heard the floating words - recalibrating.

“Recalibrate faster!” you shouted, glancing sideways to see your co-pilot struggling to hold the monster in place, his face contorting with effort, arms straining against the machinery. He bared his gritted teeth, exhaling in a hiss between them. 

You gave yourself a shake, bouncing on the balls of your feet, desperate for the connection to take again so you could pick up your half, take the literal weight from him. As soon as you felt the neural handshake, you gave a mighty shove and Duellona flipped the monster backwards, the ocean receding and then coming back to slam her shins, swallowing the monster whole.

You both sank into a defensive stance, ready for the beast to rise again.

“What was that?” Seungcheol demanded, later, as he sat in the med bay, waiting for his nosebleed to stop. The nosebleed you’d caused by letting him carry a neural load meant for two.

“I don’t know,” you lied, still panicked and desperate. 

“Bullshit,” Seungcheol countered, eyes narrowed. He reached up and pulled the cotton away from his face, examining it. “I’m fine now,” he announced, and tossed the wad into a nearby trash bin, standing.

You fought the urge to cower, knowing he’d never let it go if you did. You followed him silently out of the med bay and back towards your dormitories. Halfway there, he slowed, then stopped.

Then, more calmly this time, he asked, “What happened, Cherry? You pushed me out.”

There was a slight pout to it, a sliver of hurt, and it sliced through you like something tangible, like you were actually wounded from it, like it might actually bleed.

“I don’t know,” you repeated. Guilt poked at you until you relented, gave him something that was at least partly true.  “I got scared.” 

“That can’t happen, and you know it,” he said seriously, his large frame casting a long shadow to your left as he leaned into your space. “You can’t keep secrets - that’s piloting 101. We’ve got to handle it. You know what’s at stake here.”

You did; you did, and that was entirely the problem. It wasn’t just feelings, it wasn’t just your relationship with Seungcheol at stake. It was your relationship with your co-pilot - your ability to fight was at stake, your ability to keep others safe. Your legacy.

Your parents’ wall of pictures flashed in your mind.

“I’m going to my mom and dad’s for a while,” you said quietly. 

He nodded, let you run away - trusted you to come back to him when you were ready, trusted you to let him in.

You weren’t sure if he was right or wrong, as you walked away and left him behind.

You didn’t go to your parents’, though. Instead, you went to the tech bay and sat, watching Duellona undergo simple repairs from her fight. You stayed there, the metal cold beneath your thighs, watching the tech team buff over a scratch on your jaeger’s torso, until someone dropped into the spot next to you, bumping their shoulder roughly into yours.

“Where’s Seungcheol?” Wylie, who co-piloted Fury Striker with Chan, was your closest friend in the Dome besides Seungcheol. 

“He’s pissed at me,” you answered, looking sideways, because the question had really meant, why isn’t Seungcheol with you? 

You weren’t sure she’d understand what you were going through - she and Chan had been obsessed with each other since they were kids. Neither of them had ever had to fear that their love for each other would mess anything up. It had been part of their deal from the start.

“What’d you do?” Wylie demanded, turning her full, unfettered attention on you. You wanted to shrink from the intensity of it - but that was always how Wylie worked: full wattage, all the time.

“Almost got us killed by a fucking Cat-1 tonight,” you muttered, angry at yourself, angry at your heart.

Wylie smacked your arm hard enough to send you sideways. “Cherry!” she scolded. 

“There was something I didn’t want him to see.” You said it in your head first, weighed the words, then forced them through your teeth. You hoped she’d just know what it was, hoped you wouldn’t have to force those words past muscle and bone, too.

Wylie’s face dropped into irritation. “Cherry,” she repeated, disappointment dripping from the two syllables.

You looked up at Duellona Fury again. 

“You can’t do that,” she told you, giving your ankle a little kick for emphasis. “You know you can’t do that.”

You can’t love him? Or, you can’t keep secrets from him?

You didn’t ask. You didn’t want to know the answer.

Seungcheol was waiting up for you when you finally returned to the dorm. You opened the door to find the first room - an entryway and kitchen, both - dimly lit. Beyond it, in the small sitting space, Seungcheol sat facing the door, his chin in his hand.

You knew the look on his face. You knew it so well that you almost ran from it, almost turned right around and went back out to the hallway.

Brows slightly furrowed, mouth a straight line, jaw tight. Eyes focused, locked in. It was the face he made in training before he bodied someone. It was the face he made in the field before an offensive strike. It meant he had his sights on a target, a problem, and he was about to throw everything he had at it.

And right now, you were the problem.

“Hey?” you tried meekly.

He nodded. Licked his lips. Stood. 

He’s pissed at me, you’d told Wylie. The energy radiating from your co-pilot was much more complex than that, the air around you palpably tense and teetering.

“How was it at your parents’?” he asked, voice low. 

You took one tentative step closer. “I didn’t go,” you admitted. One lie between you was already more than you wanted. “I watched them patch up Duellona instead. Talked to Wylie a little.”

He nodded, eyes still on you. Nervousness coursed through you, but it would be a lie - another one - to say it wasn’t laced with a little excitement. He was stunning, always, but like this - it almost took your breath away.

If he was in your mind right now, there’d be no question. He’d know all of it. The attraction, the desire, the fear, the affection, the love, the need. All of it. 

His eyes caught on a bruise peeking out from the short sleeve of your top. “You should’ve had them look at that,” he said, reaching out like he wanted to run his fingers over the dark splotch, but he was just too far away, fingertips closing around the air just an inch or two away. 

You shook your head. “You needed attention first. You carried the neural load alone.” Because of me.

“Only for a minute.”

“A minute too long. I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

It hung between you. You don’t know if you’d inched forward or he had, or both, but you were close enough to touch now when you hadn’t been just seconds ago.

He lifted his eyes, his gaze locking on yours. In the dim room, his eyes shone black. “You pushed me out.”

It was an accusation, but it was also a question.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, barely able to say it, your voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Seungcheol, I was scared.”

Maybe he was in your head. Maybe he did know all of it.

“Don’t be,” he told you. “Don’t be scared.”

His arms were around you though you didn’t see him move. It wasn’t the first time you’d let him embrace you - after a fight, in relief, or in victorious delight, or sometimes just in sleepy affection at the end of a long day. It was far from the first time that you’d found comfort in the space between his arms, strong and capable around your frame, your forehead pressed against his sternum as his heart beat directly into your bones. 

But it was the first time that his fingers, confident and sure, tipped under your chin, guiding you to look up at him, guiding your mouth to meet his.

You don’t know if you melted or exploded - it was somehow both at once. You gripped his back, feeling the muscles move beneath his t-shirt, relaxing into his hold and focusing on the feel of his full lips firm and hungry against your own. This was everything - everything you’d wanted, everything you were afraid of, everything you needed, everything that could rip your life apart.

You didn’t mean to whine, but it slipped up your throat and into the gasped space between your lips and his as you tried to pull in a desperate breath. He responded with a grunt, walking you backwards until the edge of the kitchen counter jutted into your lower back. His hands traveled, up to the back of your neck, back down to the slight curve of your waist, around to the back of your ass. He tugged your hips against his roughly, and you let your head fall back, panting, head spinning.

“Cherry,” he breathed against the newly bared stretch of your neck, his lips close enough to drag against your skin as he spoke.

Your hands found the back of his neck, gave the slightest tug upwards, and he followed, bringing his mouth back to yours. His tongue pressed yours briefly, your moan muffled entirely by his mouth as you tried to press him closer, closer, as if you wanted your rib-cages to meld, to slip together like fitting puzzle pieces. 

His hand slipped lower from your ass and wrapped around your thighs, taking only a second to lift you onto the counter behind you. You wrapped yourself around him immediately, pulling him into the space between your legs, arms around his neck, pulling him in, wanting to feel every bit of him against you. 

His hands found the hem of your shirt and lifted; you raised your arms in compliance and felt the cotton slip over your head and your hands.

“Yours,” you murmured, but he had already reached back between his shoulder blades, his own top joining yours on the floor.

Your hands found him on their own, sliding over his skin, fingers dipping between muscles, thumbs sweeping over shadows.

You kissed until you turned liquid, molten, your fingers wrapped in his hair. His fingers mapped every inch of your skin, as if his job was to report back on every previously unknown dip, every rough circle, every beauty mark or blemish. His fingers traced them all, his hands passing over you reverently.

The brush of his bare chest against your own was torturous; delicious until you were full, until you couldn’t take it anymore, until the electric-sharp thrill became uncomfortable. You tilted backwards, creating more space between your torsos but pushing your hips firmly into his.

You both groaned at the contact. You could feel the heat and weight of him now, and everything instinctual within you urged you to shift further, to bring that heat and heaviness closer to the part of you that ached for it. 

He pressed his hips into you without reservation, your core clenching in response to the movement and the friction. 

Then he leaned back, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, his arms bracketing you on either side, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his breathing. He drank you in, his eyes as molten as you felt. You leaned back on your elbows and met his gaze.

The moment expanded; nothing existed but his eyes and the pant of his breath and the way he smelled like he’d just finished a fight and the way he felt between your thighs, unmovable and steady.

Neither of you was connected to jaeger machinery, but you may as well have been, because you knew without a shadow of a doubt that your minds were connected, the drift be damned. Your eyes locked, you knew he felt everything you felt - the gravity of what you were doing, the love that drove you, the fire coursing through you. If there was going to be hesitation or questioning, this was the moment, this was the pause. But you were one, your minds were one, and there was none of that. 

His unvoiced question definitively answered by the certainty that flowed between you, Seungcheol moved to lift you again, taking you easily from the countertop into the dark of the room you share, settling you on your back on his bottom bunk.

Above you, mostly shadowed, was your other half, the only person who knew and understood every cobwebbed corner of your consciousness, the only person who had walked through your mind and found himself mirrored in every way that mattered. He was beautiful in the fractured light, his expression serious and gaze intense. 

You reached up to slide your thumb along his jaw and his eyes fluttered closed, his breath leaving him as in relief, as if you’d made some kind of admission. 

Making love to Seungcheol felt like drifting. His eyes on you as his fingers pulled you apart felt the same as the careful way he’d watch you when your memories got emotional, like he was watching for any sign that you weren’t okay, that you needed more or less or him. 

The way his breath and shoulders shuddered when he pressed into you for the first time felt the same as when he faltered in face of his father’s memory; both times, his fingers laced through yours and held tight until you could both breathe again.

He felt how you’d always known he would. Perfect - a perfect fit for you, a physical compatibility you had never tested but had always trusted would be there. He took you apart without even trying, and all you could do was hold onto him, feel all of him, feel all of it, and try to remember to breathe.

You didn’t speak as you moved together in the dark; the only sounds in the tight room were muted gasps, tiny moans muffled against necks, skin on skin, the obscene squelching sounds that accompanied each snap of his hips. You didn’t say the words that your lips tried to form - it’s so much, go slow for a little, Seungcheol, I love you, more - please, don’t stop. Maybe he heard them. Maybe this was a different way to drift, one that didn’t need wires.

You did your best to hold his gaze, losing sight of him only when you strained up to kiss him, when you nuzzled your face into the warmth between his neck and shoulder and gasped against a wave of sensation, when you couldn’t help but close them as they rolled back, your toes curling. 

He pressed his forehead to yours when he finished, your name slipping out of him, as if it had been literally squeezed from his lungs. “Cherry… Cherry…”

You lay together in silence for a long time, feeling your hearts slow, your skin cool. Your thumb traced his jaw again and again, slow, worshipful. “Cheol,” you whispered. My Cheol. My everything. You didn’t say the rest as you lay together in the quiet, in the dark, your heartbeats competing. 

You didn’t know that you’d drifted together for the last time. You didn’t know that your ability to neural connect could be broken.

–

The wind whips around you, stinging your face. You barely flinch. When you’d first relocated here, three years ago, the cold had made you literally cry during your first month. Just from having to walk from the door of the dormitory across the yard to the mess hall dorm, the intensity of it had sent you spiraling into misery - damning the circumstances that had sent you here, away from everyone and everything you knew and loved, to a place where the air hurt. 

You were sure it would hurt, this intensely, forever.

But time eased the sting, and despite your doubts you did adjust. Now the early morning wind feels bracing and refreshing rather than painful. You’ve adjusted to a lot of things since relocating to a small training center in Alakanuk, Alaska: the climate, the food, the no-frills campus you lived and worked on. Being away from your parents, from Wylie and Chan and Seungkwan and Jeonghan and all the other pilots you were friends with at the Shatterdome.

Being away from Seungcheol. Being partnerless, a half instead of a whole. 

Being unable to pilot, unable to fight. 

Being brokenhearted.

Just like the cold, the pain of your losses was the same - the sting of heartbreak and loneliness and homesickness faded to something ignorable, something you could keep tucked tight in the back of your mind. 

You can hear the noise from inside the mess hall before you even cross the courtyard. There are short of fifty girls ranging from ages seven to eighteen being housed here, but from the noise you’d swear it was at least a hundred. 

The buildings are single-storied, painted with a heavily-chipping grey-blue that sometimes seems to belong to the mist you often get rolling in from the ocean. When you’d first come, you’d legitimately thought they were painted that way as camouflage, meant to blend in with the sea. The other trainers had a good laugh about that. 

As you cross the courtyard between the trainers’ dorms and the mess hall, you breathe deeply, eyes on the birds alight above you. After a lifetime in the Shatterdome, you don’t take for granted the fresh air you’re afforded as you pass between buildings, outside, the sky open and changing above. You don’t take for granted the rhythm of the ocean, the cries of the gulls, nor the distant treeline.

It was Seungcheol who had noted that you were sheltered, having never lived outside of the Dome. 

It was Seungcheol you could blame - at least halfway - for your relocation here, where there wasn’t a jaeger or even a city for hundreds of miles. 

When you pull open the flimsy door to the mess hall, the noise triples. Several of the girls call out to greet you, and you give them a quick wave as you head to the table where the staff eats.

“You’re later than normal,” one of the other instructors notes as you reach for a piece of bread.

You shrug lightly, unbothered. “Still have plenty of time before the first class. What day is today, Thursday? I’ve got the little ones first, right?”

The all-girls training center is meant to teach fighting and the groundworks for drifting, but no jaegers are housed here, no teams launch into the icy bay. The girls here will grow up to pilot - if they get selected, if they get paired with a partner. 

You’re mostly here to teach them to fight, the way you trained in the Dome, but you do plenty more. Help brush hair in the mornings, console tearful faces, teach games and sports, mediate arguments. You also got sucked into running one literacy class a week, though you still haven’t figured out how that happened. 

It would be a lie to say this wasn’t fulfilling, that you didn’t love the girls you cared for, that you weren’t happy here with the ocean and birds and trees and laughter. In many ways, the seclusion of this training center is exactly what you needed to get back on your feet, to find strength in yourself, to heal with distance and time.

But, god, what you would give for a real fight. What you would give to feel both loved and threatened by Wylie, to rib at the guys, to hug your mom. What you would give to hear Seungcheol’s teasing pout, to catch his gaze across the span of your jaeger and know what his body and yours will do, to feel his fingers just barely graze your back when he knows you need to be reminded to focus.

The final time you’d tried, the neural connection never took. It was like trying to connect with a stranger. It had simply been still, a thing that was never alive.

“Don’t do this,” Seungcheol had begged, and that had been the nail in the coffin.

Don’t do this, he’d said. It had landed like blame. Like everything was your fault, and only yours. Like you had broken the connection on purpose, were keeping him out, barricading your mind from his when you desperately wanted everything to go right back to normal.

After that failure, you didn’t tell him you were asking to be reassigned. You didn’t want to give him the chance to say don’t do this a second time.

You’ve just ended a class, the girls starting to filter out through the training room’s side door towards the mess hall for lunch, when the center’s Administrator calls your name from the door.

“There’s a call for you on my line. I have them holding.”

A call? 

Adrenaline races through you; it has to be an emergency. Your parents and friends can reach you on your own device, which is tucked into your back pocket. To call the mainline here at the center means this is a base-to-base call, not a personal one.

You’ve only been in this office a handful of times in your few years here, and you shuffle awkwardly around the desk and pick up the receiver that sits abandoned on the chipped, wooden desktop. 

You greet the person on the line with your real name. 

“Cherry?”

Your Marshall - your old Marshall, from the Dome - sounds unsure if he has the right person on the line. No one has called you Cherry in three years. Even your parents have used your given name the few times they’ve said it on your weekly calls home.

“It’s me,” you affirm. “Is everything okay? My parents?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, and you heave a relieved breath. “Everyone is fine. This is official business. I want to call you in.”

You shake your head, frowning, well aware that he can’t see your reaction. Your body has said no, but you force yourself to ask, “Me? Why?”

“We’re down a few teams,” the Marshall says. “And -”

“You’ve got more recruits than places to put them,” you counter before he can finish. “Call one of the new teams up. Call three new teams up. You don’t need me.”

“We do - we need teams with experience, teams that are ready. Not rookies bumbling around looking for mistakes. We need precision. We need Duellona Fury.”

Your Marshall lays out the situation: the teams that are out, the problems they’re having at the breach - less time between attacks, more monsters at once. You’ve seen this before, you all have, and there’s protocol in place - protocol that starts with all hands on deck. 

You shake your head again. From the door, the Administrator of the center watches you seriously, like she knows you’re being taken away. 

“Marshall, with all due respect, I don’t know why you’re calling me,” you admit. “What can I give you? I can’t pilot Duellona.”

Not anymore. 

The Marshall sighs, like he knew this argument was coming and didn’t have a good response. 

“I think you can,” he says finally. “I’m not saying it will be easy, and I’m not saying it will happen quickly or without effort. But I think you can.”

“No,” you say, the first time you’ve voiced it. “You were there. You saw what happened. We can’t drift anymore.”

“You couldn’t then,” he points out. “That was three years ago. You’ve both had a lot of time to…. You’ve both had a lot of time since then. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift… they’ve had time to mellow.”

This blow knocks you into silence. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes steadfastly on the warped wood of the desk, fingers toying absently with the Administrator’s pen. 

He’s wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing had mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did three years ago. The splitting ache in your chest that you’ve felt every day since you became aware of loving him has only worked its way deeper with time. 

And Seungcheol’s anger? The anger and betrayal he’d leveled at you, when he was sure you were keeping him out of your head on purpose? You couldn’t speak for him, but if you had to guess, there weren’t enough years in a human life to let that hurt mellow into something safe enough to drift with.

“Have you talked to him about this?” You’re afraid of the answer. 

The Marshall hesitates. “Not yet.”

“You might want to do that first,” you point out. “Before flying me back only to have him refuse.” 

The Marshall’s voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. “Mr. Choi will follow orders,” he says evenly, “and so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.”

“You can’t order us into being able to drift again,” you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest. 

“No,” the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, “but I can - and will - order you to try.”

The girls cry when you tell them you’re leaving, and it makes you want to cry, too. You hold it together as you give them hugs, hold it together as you pack your single bag of belongings. You hold it together in the passenger seat of the center’s only beat-up van, waving out the back window as the training center fades away.

It’s standing on the deck of the ferry, the coast receding and the sea wind clawing at your face, that you let it go. You bury your face behind your hands and feel it release behind your ribs. You cry for all of it - for leaving the girls behind, for leaving a place that had sheltered you like a sanctuary. For the time you’d lost at the Dome, for the fights you’d sat out, for the years with your parents and friends that had slipped away like sand between your fingers. For your fear that Seungcheol will turn you away, just as hurt and angry as he was one thousand and ninety-five days ago. 

You’d been so determined to keep him from walking through the depths of your love for him, in the drift. You were so scared it would be too much, too intense, too much emotion for the drift. You’d been scared it would be too much for him - that the weight of it would inherently ask for more than he could give you in return. You’d been scared it would ruin your partnership, your compatibility, your capability to co-pilot.

But that had happened anyway. You almost have to laugh. 

As furiously as your tears begin, they peter out quickly. You take a few deep gulps of salty air, use the backs of your hands to wipe at your cheeks and beneath your nose. As you calm down, you keep your eyes on the horizon, your hands tight on the ship’s railing, and you let your mind wander back to Seungcheol. Here, thousands of miles away, you let yourself think back to those last weeks before you left the Shatterdome. You let yourself wonder, for the first time, what exactly caused everything to crumble.

You’d been so afraid to let Seungcheol into your head once the loving him had taken over. Why had it scared you so badly? As you keep your eyes on the grey of the horizon, you puzzle it out in your mind.

Had it been the uncertainty? That had certainly played a part. Did Seungcheol love you, back then? If he didn’t, everything between you could have changed - your friendship, your partnership, your ability to drift. It hadn’t seemed worth the risk to lose it all - his presence in your life, your ability to fight together. 

But maybe he had. If he did love you, back then… that would have changed things, too. What if starting something romantic affected your drift? There were too many maybes, too many variables. It had seemed safe to push it all down, to try and keep him away from it. To try and keep things the same.

Of course, you’d lost it all anyway.

Even if he did love you three years ago, you think as the sea air whips around you, did he love you the way you loved him? What if it had been too much - the way you could breathe once he was with you, the way you kept each other in check - what if he had loved you, but not that much?

Had it been a mistake to keep him out? Maybe. But it could have been just as catastrophic to let him in. There was no way to know, now.

You turn away from the ship’s railing, away from the horizon and the sea, away from your mistakes. There’s no use looking back like this. You can’t change it. You aren’t even sure you can fix it.

You were hoping to sleep on the plane, but you’re woefully awake well after take-off. Determined not to keep ruminating on what had happened before you left, instead you wonder what awaits you now.

The most-likely scenario, you think, professional and polite - but cold. Like you, he takes duty and responsibility seriously. The airplane bumps, a pocket of air jostling the small craft, and your hands find the armrests and cling tight until it stops.

The best case scenario, of course, would be that enough time has passed that Seungcheol’s hurt has faded. Maybe, you think, maybe he’s moved on from harboring that anger. Maybe he’ll greet you warmly, maybe you’ll pick up right where you left off.

This hope, this day-dream, aches, so much that you blink it away and turn to watch the clouds through the window, a desperate distraction. You crave Seungcheol - you crave feeling safe with his arms around you, you crave the elation you’d feel when he entered the room you were in, you crave the peace that comes with two minds engaged in neural handshake - the peace of someone’s mind interlaced with your own, understanding you, operating with you, picking up half of your mental lift.

You crave his giggle when you say something stupid in the dark of the dorm before bed, his pout when he feels like he isn’t getting enough attention, you crave his voice echoing in your head long after he’s gone asleep because you heard him talk to you all day long. 

You crave his lips on yours, his teeth on your neck, his hands on your body, even if you only had it once. You’ve craved it ever since.

You crave closing your eyes and pressing your forehead to his sternum, feeling safe and quiet and like you belong. You miss the sanctuary of that space, chest to chest with him, something sacred in the way it exists only for you.

You know you can’t have it - any of it. The daydream isn’t real. Your curse will be to crave it forever, alone.

When you arrive at the Shatterdome, it’s your parents who greet you just inside. For a moment, you’re happy to be back, overcome with emotion as you hug them tight. They’ve aged in these three years. You’ve missed them awfully. You only tell them the latter. 

They walk with you to the Marshall’s office, where you’re meant to report upon arrival. 

You hesitate, covering the moment by tugging your duffle’s strap higher on your shoulder. Your mother reads you anyway, reaching out and giving your shoulder a squeeze. 

“It will be okay,” she whispers. 

Your father catches on. “You’ve faced down worse,” he reasons. 

You disagree. There’s no monster in the sea bigger than your love for Seungcheol, no wounding possible that could hurt more than losing him has. But you appreciate the sentiment, so you give them each a grateful nod, tell them you’ll visit after dinner, and turn to knock on the door.

“Come in,” the Marshall’s voice carries through the door, and you turn the knob and step inside. 

All you see is Seungcheol; the Marshall, the office furniture, the flickering screens on the walls all snap into nonexistence in the presence of your former lover. He’s the only thing in the room that comes into focus. Everything else is just fuzzy noise.

His face wavers for a moment when your eyes meet his, the muscles rippling as he fights to get them under control. 

You don’t know what reaction he’s fighting. You don’t know if he’s feeling happiness or hatred. You don’t know if he’s fighting a smile or a scowl.

You give him a quick bow in greeting, and he returns it. His face is stone, now, his mouth tight and eyes flat. 

He turns to face the Marshall, to receive orders, so you do the same.

“I trust your travel went well?” the Marshall begins.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Even the single syllable of yes will come out of your mouth like gravel and dirt and sand, getting everywhere, leaving a trail.

“Your orders,” he says then, a bit of a sigh on his tone - as if he knows the uphill battle this will be, “are to reconnect as best you can. You’ll follow your old schedule. You’ll spar, you’ll meditate, and you’ll talk. After some time, we’ll try the drift again, see if the connection has recovered any.”

Seungcheol’s voice startles you when he speaks. “How long do you imagine it will be before we try?” he asks, just cold enough to have a sliver of sarcasm in it. 

The Marshall’s eyes narrow, just slightly, as if he’d caught it. “That’s entirely up to you two,” he says evenly. “When you were young and hungry to fight, you trained yourselves into exhaustion. You spent every waking second trying to cultivate the bond that would carry you into your jaeger. With the same intention and drive, I imagine you could be piloting Duellona within the week.”

You fight to keep your chin up, your eyes on the Marshall, instead of ducking your head and watching the floor. The Marshall lifts his arm and glances at his watch. 

“Your allotted time in Sparring Room 7 begins on the hour,” he says. This is his way of dismissing you.

In the hallway, you pause. “I’m just going to drop my bag in the dorm,” you say quietly, not looking at Seungcheol. 

He gives a tight nod. “Fine,” he says, and turns to go the other way, towards the sparring and training rooms. Clearly he intends to meet you there. You heave a deep breath, and turn back towards the wing with the dorms.

Stepping into the dorm you used to share with Seungcheol hits you harder than you thought it would. You’re not sure what you expected - to feel like coming home, maybe, or perhaps to be slapped with the memories of you and Seungcheol together, dancing around each other as you hurried to get dressed for a drop, lazing around in the sitting area after a full day of training. And, of course, the single night you’d spent together.

Neither thing happens. You aren’t overcome by a feeling of nostalgia and love, nor are you inundated by memories of what you’ve lost. Instead, the room feels exactly as it is: empty and still.

Your footsteps’ echoes taunt you as you walk through the kitchen, the sitting area, and into the bedroom. It’s pristine to the point of detriment; it feels like no one lives there. You set your bag on the floor near the foot of the bed - you can unpack later, after training - and turn to go.

Strangely, it’s stepping into the training room that slams you with memory and nostalgia. The wood cool beneath your feet, the vague smell of sweat and citrus-y cleaner, the sounds of punches landing and grunts of effort from the training rooms on either side - they all cocoon you in history, making goosebumps rise on your arms as the emotions surround you.

It makes sense, you think, as Seungcheol glances over his shoulder at the sound of your arrival. He doesn’t speak to you, just swaggers to the center of the room and takes a stance you recognize from Form One. Your body leads you opposite him, muscle memory guiding you into the first form you ever learned with him. It makes sense that this would be what felt like home - your minds going empty together, your bodies following the steps in unison. The sparring forms are the closest you can get to drifting without an actual neural connection.

Well, that and sleeping together, but you don’t see that on your agenda.

You stare at him across the invisible circle between you and try to read him. His face is cold and empty, but that already tells you so much about what he’s feeling. Seungcheol was never cold with you. When you fought together he slipped into that mode you loved so much - ready to level anything, chin lifted, eyes narrowed, confident and so very strong. But it was when you were together outside the fights that you had loved him best - often pouting, lips protruding, voice lifting into a whine. And the best of all - that smile, dimples creating shadows that beg for your thumb to press them, eyes squeezing shut with happiness or laughter.

Something must show on your face, because you watch the muscles in Seungcheol’s upper body untense, as if he’d been ready to fight and recognized that you weren’t.

“I’m good,” you mutter quickly, before he can ask. It feels better to lie to him before he actually asks you, like that’s somehow less dishonest. “Let’s go.”

Form One is basic - no hits, no fancy moves. At the training center, you’d teach it to the littlest ones until they had it memorized. It was really about control and communication - precision and alignment with your partner. You had to breathe together as your feet traced opposite circles across the knots in the wooden floor. You had to rise and bend in unison. It was about watching and listening.

You and Seungcheol could - literally, you’d tried more than once - do it blindfolded in perfect step with one another. Before. You don’t know if you still can. But, now, unblindfolded, it’s too easy.

You move through forms one through six without incident - both of you flowing as easily as water.

Form Seven is the first form that incorporates actual hits and blocks. You’ll have to touch for the first time, even if it’s forearm to forearm or ankle to shoulder. You move right as he moves left, crouch and circle as his right foot flies over your head, stand and punch where you know his open hand will be waiting to stop you.

It is, and you press your fist against it for just a second before spinning away to continue the form. You ache, even as your body continues following the steps, to have him entirely again - to meet his eyes and smile the way you both used to, because you were pleased with what your bodies could do. Because you had each other, completely.

After the tenth form, you bow, turn, and walk out of the ring. You drink some water, your back to him. Years ago you’d have used this break to chat, but you don’t know what to say to him. You’re scared that he’ll shut down anything you say, whether you choose small talk or go straight for the heart of the problem, and you honestly don’t think you can shoulder his rejection right now. So you stay quiet.

After a few short minutes of rest, you return to the center of the room. This is when you’ll spar for real.

You and Seungcheol had done this for years before things went wrong. You’d long ago adjusted to how hard you should hit, how to dodge his moves, how to make this a dance as much as a fight. Now, you feel like it’s your first time again.

Seungcheol attacks as you’d expect - all offensive, pushy, succeeding in herding you backwards even as you dodge each blow. You know his goal is to flip you, and normally you can avoid that by forcing him to go on the defensive as he avoids your own hits. Simply dodging won’t be enough - eventually he’ll cage you in unless you distract him.

You throw yourself into a summersault and manage to get behind him - an opportune moment to strike. You shift your weight to follow the blow as you twist your hips to send a kick towards his unprotected head. He turns just too late - the blow will land.

You can’t do it. You freeze, your core working to keep you upright as you fight your own momentum, halting the kick inches from his temple.

You know immediately that pulling the hit was a mistake. His eyes narrow, and he sweeps his foot at the ankle you’re balancing on. You crash to the ground, heaving a breath and taking quick inventory.

You aren’t hurt. Not this time.

“Get up, Cherry,” he says darkly, moving back to the center to start again. “And don’t do that shit again.”

He comes at you full force in the next match, too. You dodge and weave, but you don’t try to strike. You know he knows it; this isn’t how it used to work. You can almost feel him get angrier as you fight, but you can’t make yourself hit back. You want him to knock you down, you deserve to take some shots.

You take two blows to the back and one to a shoulder; you fall back unsteadily but manage to find your footing and roll away from his next kick.

The match continues - you taking a handful of blows, though none with the force to level you, and Seungcheol with his lip curled in fury.

“If you’re not going to fight, then leave,” he spits.

“Would if I could,” you retort without thinking. You mean that you don’t want to be here like this - not talking, cold, at odds. But you know it reads as not wanting to be here at all.

It seems like everything you say and do only hurts him more.

“I didn’t mean -” you start, and Seungcheol takes your arms and flips you over his shoulders.

“Don’t waste my fucking time,” he says, brushing his hands together and stepping back to give you room to pick yourself up.

“Don’t curse at me,” you answer, pushing yourself to your hands and knees, pausing to catch your breath before rising fully again.

He shakes his head, rolls his eyes a little.

You hate this side of him.

You know you deserve it. For pushing him out. For leaving him here. For loving him, messing everything up, when he never asked for that.

“Seungcheol,” you say, but he ignores you, pacing a few steps and then turning to face you, lowering himself into a defensive stance, ready to spar again.

“Cheol,” you try again. “Listen to me.”

“Marshall scheduled us time to talk later,” he says flatly. “Right now we’re scheduled to fight. So fight me, Cherry. Let’s go.”

The rest of the hour continues the same. By the time it’s over, Seungcheol storms out without speaking to you, furious over every single pulled punch.

You don’t know what to do to make it all better.

You shower quickly, dressing in dry linens, and then re-emerge for the hours you’re scheduled to meditate together. You hope that maybe this will help the situation - maybe not talking will be good for you, give you a chance to feel your connection without the chance to fuck it up with words.

You’re wrong; trying to meditate together is just as desperately fruitless as sparring had been.

You can’t focus at all - can’t shift your attention to your breath, to your body, to the earth beneath you, to the energy of your partner.

Your partner is the distraction, though he sits perfectly still, eyes closed. He might as well be yelling. His shoulders are tight, his jaw still clenched. Anger radiates off him so strongly that it makes your stomach hurt, makes you want to cower from it. You can’t stop watching him, hoping you’ll see him relax, hoping you’ll see the moment that he lets go.

He doesn’t.

“Your eyes are supposed to be closed,” he murmurs, and you feel your face heat, embarrassed that he knew you were watching him.

“I can’t,” you admit. Maybe, you think, you should just be brutally honest, starting now. It’s not like you could make this worse. “I can’t stop noticing how angry -”

“Then stop pissing me off,” he snaps, eyes opening. “Just a suggestion.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” you cry, and push yourself to stand. You’re not sure why - maybe just to pace. “You never used to talk to me like this. Who are you?”

He looks at the floor, the first sign of guilt you’ve seen since you came home.

“Fine,” he finally bites back, and you know it’s as close to sorry as you’ll get. “I’ll reign it in. Sit back down.”

You shift your weight, arms crossed defensively across your chest, and close your eyes, deciding.

“Sit down, Cherry,” he repeats, and it’s gentler now. That’s what makes you cave, and you settle back across from him.

He’s less tense this time, so you eventually manage to close your eyes and count your breaths. But you’re still feeling for him, reaching for him in your mind, and coming up with nothing between you fingers. Touching him is as possible as touching the fog that used to blanket the training center, thick enough to blind you but impossible to grasp.

The pain feels like a cramp, except it’s behind your ribs instead of in your muscles. The pain grips and tightens, takes over. You want him, you want to be his again, you want to be inside these walls - where you used to fit comfortably. The fact that you’re out here, without him, aches so badly it makes you nauseated.

You want to beg him - let me in again, let me back in, let me be close to you again.

It won’t do any good, and you know it.

He was yours - you had him, you knew him, you could reach out to him and he’d pick you up. You’d taken it for granted, and you’d run away from it. You’d chosen to let it go, and now all you get is this: Seungcheol, cold and closed. Seungcheol, hating you for everything that happened.

—

Dinner is just as bad.

You go to the mess hall eager to see Wylie and Jeonghan and Seungkwan and all the other friends you haven’t seen in years. Wylie screeches like a banshee when she spots you, crossing the mess hall in a blur and hugging you so tightly that you both stagger, off balance, until Seungkwan joins the hug and rights you again.

“I missed you both so much,” you whisper, the only vulnerability anyone’s going to get out of you today.

“Then don’t leave again!” Wylie snaps, but you know the admonishment is full of love.

“I can’t promise,” you admit. Honestly, you’ve already made up your mind - you want to go back to Alaska. You’re not wanted here, not by the person who matters. What good are you, taking up a bed, if you can’t drift?

You’ve already given up hope that he’ll come around.

Seated at the table, you listen while your friends fill you in on what you’ve missed in three years - the fights in the bay, the new teams of pilots, the illnesses and injuries. You almost don’t notice Seungcheol silently takes a seat on Jeonghan’s other side, but something in you prickles, like you’ve sensed him.

The tension around the table heightens; the conversation goes a little stilted. When it’s apparent that he’s going to ignore you two seats down from him, Wylie slaps her hand flat on the tabletop.

“Come on, Seungcheol,” she scolds, and you’re sure no one wonders what she means.

His face goes dark so quickly it’s alarming. “Don’t,” he tells her darkly, one finger coming up to point at her in warning.

Her own eyes narrow and dart to her fork. Beside her, Chan’s eyes pingpong between them. He’s probably wondering if he should hold her back or join her.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, grabbing your tray and making to rise. “I’ll go.”

“Cherry, no,” Wylie protests, and then turns a glower onto your ex-co-pilot as if to say see what you did?

“It’s fine,” you repeat, standing. “I told my mom and dad I’d come by.”

You slink out before anyone else can argue.

You can’t even be mad at him - you did this by pushing him away. You hammered every last nail in the coffin by requesting to transfer. You pushed him out and you left him behind and now you have to face the reality that you can’t have him anymore. He isn’t yours, not anymore.

When you return to your dorm, he’s already in bed, the lights out. He’s facing the wall so you can only see his back, can only see the angry, tight shoulder poking out the top of the sheets. It tells you everything you need to know.

You don’t try to talk to him. You just go to bed.

—

You spend four days identically - fighting while sparring, not meditating, and avoiding Seungcheol’s ice-out. On the fifth day, your Marshall loses patience and changes your schedule. Your entire day is blocked to working on Duellona’s mainframe - buffing, repainting, greasing, and anything else you’re able to handle on your own.

“Since you can’t do anything else useful,” he adds, and you avoid Seungcheol’s eyes, ashamed.

Standing under Duellona’s unlit frame fills you with guilt. It feels like you’re letting her down, disappointing her by letting her rust here, failing your half of the bargain. You run your hands gently over the metal, finding the rough spots that need attention. Somewhere to your left, you can hear the telltale sounds of Seungcheol tightening bolts.

You work in silence for hours.

Eventually, you crack. You’re not sure if it’s the monotony of the task, the tension woven into the silence between you too, or being so close to your jaeger but unable to fight in it - maybe a combination. Something pushes at you from the inside, like a balloon trying to inflate under your skin and running out of room.

You flop backwards on the metal walkway, the grooves digging into your back. “What are we doing?” you ask, and you hear the tool Seungcheol had been using cling loudly as he sets it down.

“Following orders?” he says, stepping around Duellona’s side to look at you. “Fixing up the jaeger?”

“Fixing up the jaeger we don’t get to pilot?” you ask, sitting back up to look at him better.

“Is that what you’re here for?” he asks, the sudden ferocity of it surprising you. “To fight? Is that why you came back?”

You reach up to the walkway’s railing and pull yourself up. You feel yourself frowning at his question, at the heat behind it. 

“I’m back because the Marshall gave me an order,” you say slowly. 

“And that’s it?” he demands. 

You stare at him. You feel sure there’s more to the question, more that he’s asking. You feel sure, after knowing Choi Seungcheol down to the last molecule, that he’s really asking, you didn’t come back for me?

And it confuses you. You try to think about your split from his perspective: you’d shut him out, then slept with him, and then vanished. You’d made a lot of assumptions about his anger since then. You assumed he was angry at you for pushing him out of your head. You assumed he was angry at you for sleeping with him and then leaving. You assumed he was angry with you for ruining your drift, for ripping him away from the ability to fight. You assumed he was angry because he never knew why - never knew what it was that you were so desperate to hide, never knew why sleeping together had made things so much worse that the neural connection had fizzled into nothing altogether.

Is there more to it, his anger?

Should you call him on it, should you ask?

You take too long deciding. Seungcheol scoffs, like he’s disgusted with you. “I should have known,” he says coldly. “Princess of the Shatterdome, I should have known you only cared about piloting - about your legacy.”

This is something you’ve never said to him - that your desire to shine as brightly as your parents has weighed on you. This is something he’d pulled from the drift, something he only knew from tiptoeing around your mind before a fight. 

“That isn’t fair,” you say, your voice hard. “Is there another reason I should have come back? I’d love to hear it.”

He hears the challenge as it is - you didn’t ask me to come back, the Marshall did. You let me go.

He has nothing to say for himself, just stares back at you, eyes narrowed in anger, chest moving too quickly as he battles with his temper.

“Exactly,” you say curtly. The victory stings. It doesn’t feel like a win at all. “The bottom line is I’m here now, and we can pilot again if we can get our shit together.”

He shakes his head. “You left,” he says finally. “That’s the bottom line. You decided you were out, you decided you didn’t want me in your head, and then you left.”

He watches you, waits for you to say something. When you don’t, he lets out a derisive little laugh. “We’re both wasting our time here. The drift won’t work. We aren’t going to fix it.”

For the first time, fear slices through you like steel. “You can’t know that,” you say. You hear the fear in the way your voice comes out low and rounded, barely sounding like you at all.

“I can,” he retorts. “You know how I know? Because I don’t want to. You wanted me out of your head so badly? You got it. Can’t turn back now.”

He heads for the ladder, swings around and finds the third rung down with ease.

“So that’s it?” you ask his retreating form. Your heart is hammering and you’re starting to get tunnel vision. 

The only answer he gives you are his feet hitting each new rung with a clunk and a vibration that rattles up your legs.

—

You go to the training rooms alone and run through the forms just to do something; your mind turns the problem over and over as your body goes through the motions. After, you take a longer shower than normal, letting the water run hotter than you normally would.

After, you go to the Marshall’s office, determined. Or maybe resigned.

When he opens the door, he already looks irritated, like he knew exactly who would be on the other side.

“Requesting an audience,” you say flatly, fighting the instinct to cross your arms defensively.

He glances at his watch. “Five minutes.”

You step inside but leave the door open.

“I’m requesting transfer back to Alakanuk,” you tell him as evenly as you can manage. You’re sure he’s not surprised. “Seungcheol has made it very clear that we won’t be fighting together again. If that’s the case, then I can’t do anything useful here. But in Alakanuk I can.”

You pause, looking to see if you can read anything on the Marshall’s face - any hint that he’s considering what you’re saying, or that it’s a lost cause. He gives you nothing.

“Please,” you say. “Those girls need me. If I can’t help here, I can help them.”

The Marshall tilts his head just slightly. “Surely anyone can teach little girls the forms.”

You shake your head. “It’s more than that, and you know it. It’s not about the forms. I love those girls. I came back here to follow orders, and I tried. But if it isn’t going to happen… Please, don’t make me waste time here if I can be with them instead.”

The silence when you stop speaking seems to last for hours. Your heart pounds, and you work on keeping your breathing even. If he tells you no, you might just lose it, just give up entirely.

Finally, he takes a breath and seems to consider you. “If,” he says, and your eyes widen with hope, “your co-pilot agrees, then I will reassign you back to Alaska. But only if he will agree.”

“No problem,” you say quickly. Seungcheol was the one who said it was over. He should have no problem letting you leave.

When you step out of the Marshall’s office, Seungcheol steps out of the shadows. You should be surprised to see him, but in the Shatterdome it feels right that he just is wherever you are. That’s always how it was, before.

You look at him disdainfully. “I assume you heard that conversation?”

He nods, once.

“So?” you ask. “Will you tell him you approve, so I can go?”

For the first time since you returned, Seungcheol smiles, tight and sarcastic.

“No,” he says easily, like it’s kind of funny.

Fury erupts inside you; you can’t even pinpoint where in your body it stems from. “Why?” you demand. “Because you feel like I took something from you, so you want to take something from me?”

He doesn’t respond to this. You know you’re right. You know him. You know his mind.

“I hate to fuck up your narrative,” you spit at him, “but I’ve lost out here just as much as you have. You’re not the only one who lost the ability to fight. You’re not the only one who lost their partner.”

You wish you could tell him the rest - you’re not the one who spent three years with a broken heart on top of it. He had lost you as a partner and a friend - you had lost him in the same ways, and you’d had to harbor your broken heart.

He shakes his head. “Poor baby,” he bites sarcastically, and then takes off down the hallway, into the dark.

—

You stop sleeping at the dorm. Sometimes you sleep at your parents’, sometimes on Wylie and Chan’s tiny couch, sometimes in bed with Seungkwan, who kicks at you and whines that you take up too much space. Sometimes you sleep inside Duellona Fury, sitting up, your back against her metal frame.

The Marshall seems to have taken some pity on you. He schedules your mornings training the Dome’s recruits, and lets Seungcheol get back to what he was doing in your absence - which seems to be on track to move up in rank, to maybe become a Marshall himself, someday. It isn’t quite the same as being back with your girls, but training recruits feels at least somewhat fulfilling. And it keeps you and Seungcheol busy - separately - until afternoon.

Then, he schedules you to spar.

In your first week, you’d been unwilling to hit Seungcheol. You’d been feeling guilty for hurting him, sad for your time apart, hopeful that if you were soft to him, then he’d be soft back to you.

Now, you’re fucking furious.

For the first time, when the match begins, you hit him first. He’s surprised for only a second, eyebrows shooting up as he stumbles for balance, and then you watch something delighted and devilish fall over his face. Like he knows exactly what dance this is, and he’s been learning the steps in secret.

The match is brutal, reminiscent of your very first one, when you were both nineteen. You throw hit after hit his way; he blocks or dodges all of them. But he can’t get a hit on you either - you’re too quick, spurred on by fury. You’ve been angry in a fight before. But you’ve never been angry at him.

You spin and throw up a kick, expecting his forearm to rise and block it. Instead, you knock him in the jaw.

He grunts, hand flying up to cover his mouth, and you drop your stance with a gasp.

“Shit!” you cry, hurrying closer. “I’m so sorry! Are you bleeding? Let me look.”

“‘M fine,” he mutters thickly from behind his hand, but you ignore him. For a second, things are how they used to be between you. He lets you peel his hand away, lets you gingerly turn his head this way and that, even opens up so you can check his teeth.

“You’re gonna have a fat lip,” you tell him regretfully. “But nothing’s bleeding. Teeth look okay. Anything loose in there?”

He pokes around his teeth with his pinky. “Nope.”

You take a step back, cowed. “I’m really sorry.”

He laughs a little, wryly. “I bet you feel better, though.”

You bite back a smile. “Actually…” you say, and he laughs again. You both do.

Somehow, this seems to be the thing that cracks the anger you’ve both been encased in, unable to move forward or backward. You feel melted, and you wonder if he feels freer now, too.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you say. You mean the kick, but the words land heavy.

He avoids your gaze. “I need some water,” he says, turning and heading to the side of the room.

You do the same, sitting heavily on the bench where your water waits for you.

“Hey,” he says, and you look over, brows raised in anticipation. “Tell me about Alaska.”

You can’t help but smile.

“It’s so beautiful,” you tell him. “God, Cheol, the ocean there. And the birds, and the snow…”

He’s watching you, listening, but while he listens he stands and heads to the center of the ring, settling into a starting form. With a small smile, you follow, standing opposite him. He starts an easy match that’s mostly just following the eighth form. It includes some hits and blocks, but you both do them gently, easily, circling each other slowly.

“So you liked it?” he asks. You can hear how hard he’s working to make it sound casual.

“It was so beautiful,” you admit before ducking below a kick. “But it was also… really hard.”

“What was the best part?” he asks.

You smile, block a hit. He almost gets his hands on you for a flip, but you dodge around behind him. He turns to follow you. “Weirdly, it was taking care of them outside of class. We - the instructors - we kind of their moms, away from home, you know? I’m the one who knew Yejin won’t sleep unless someone sits by her bed for a while. I’m the one that knew that Farrah and Salome only argue because they’re competitive. I’m the one that knew that Maria and Anjali don’t know their times-tables, that Ximena can’t brush her own hair, or that Iseul is allergic to fish. I loved them. I loved knowing them.”

He looks at you for a long time. “Maybe you should go back,” he says finally.

It feels like a trap. 

You look at the floor, at the wall, then finally back at him. “If you’ll do this for real,” you say carefully, “then I’d rather be here. If we’re actually trying, then I don’t want to go.”

He’s quiet for a long time. Finally, he swallows hard, not looking at you.

“What was the worst part?”

There’s only one answer.

“Missing you,” you say. “Losing you.”

He manages to get both of your arms and hauls you over his shoulders. You land on your back so hard that the air is knocked out of your lungs and your eyes close protectively. For a second, you lay there panting, waiting for the pain in your back to settle down, waiting for the stars behind your eyelids to calm.

When you open them again, the ceiling coming into focus above you, the room is empty.

–

You have a hunch on where you can find him, and you head to the jaeger bay. Sure enough, he’s sitting below Duellona, knees to his chest, staring up at her.

You sit next to him and he doesn’t get up and leave, which you take as a good sign.

“I can’t do this if you’re not all in,” he tells you without looking at you. “You walked away from me once. I can’t let you back in my head if there’s any possibility you’ll walk away again. If you’re with me, I need you to be with me.”

Something prickles in the back of your head. You feel like you’re starting to realize something - the seed of an understanding is pushing delicately through the dirt, but hasn’t yet spread out its leaves under the warmth of the sun yet.

Something about his hurt. Something about why.

“I think we should try to drift,” you tell him.

This seems to startle him - he forgets to be cold, turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I can tell you how much I missed you,” you reason, “and tell you about how I spent every minute just… steeped in regret. Or we can walk through it - you can see for yourself.”

You know what you’re risking. If he gets into your head now, he’ll see it all - he’ll know everything, he’ll be able to feel for himself the depth of your loss, the height of your love. 

But what’s the harm, now? You can’t lose him twice. Maybe it’ll be enough for him to realize you hadn’t left him because you didn’t care about him. Maybe it’ll be enough for his forgiveness. 

Maybe then, he’ll tell the Marshall to let you go back to Alakanuk. 

It’s Seungkwan you bother, since he’d been in mission control before finding his team of co-pilots. The sideways look he gives you as he walks to your conn pod is withering, but you know better than to take it personally.

You buzz with nerves. The last time you’d tried this, the neural handshake hadn’t even connected. There had just been nothing.

The second you hear neural handshake initiating, you almost sob with relief. You can’t even pay attention to the memories - Seungcheol’s memories - floating around you; you want to collapse, to press your palms to the ground and thank the universe for letting you back in.

His first memories are a breeze - the ones you’ve jogged through together hundreds of times: his first home, his school, his father’s hospital room, the Dome. Then you slow your pace, because this is new.

You’re facing the landing dock on the Shatterdome’s roof. Seungcheol stands with his back to you, watching through the glass walls as a helicopter waits, the pilot talking into his headset.

You watch yourself walk towards the chopper’s open door. You watch yourself leave, remember how hard it was to not look back.

You hadn’t known that Seungcheol had been there, that he had seen you go.

The pain that accompanies the memory hits you like you’re drowning, like it’s too deep and you can’t feel the bottom, and you feel the machinery falter around you.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “I’m with you.”

He nods, still doesn’t look at you. But the beeping stops, the connection holding. 

There’s knowledge in this memory, knowledge in this pain. Seungcheol’s thoughts in this moment read in your head as clearly as if he said them aloud - I did this. I pushed her too far; I made her run.

You can’t stay here, can’t let him wallow in the memory of pain. You had to move forward - that’s how the drift works. Reluctantly you step towards the door, glancing over your shoulder to see if he’s following. 

He is. His jaw is tight and fists are clenched, but he is.

When the next memory - not in order of chronology, clearly - appears before you, you want to vanish into the floor. You’re watching yourselves in Seungcheol’s bed. Thankfully, you’re sleeping - this was after. But in the memory, Seungcheol is awake, laying on his side, his eyes drinking in your sleeping form.

The emotions and the knowledge come with it in an instant. The tenderness and the love he felt in that moment surround you now in the memory, unignorable, impossible to mistake. 

He had loved you. He had known you loved him, and he was showing you how he felt. The understanding slams you so hard that you think you stop breathing.

“Seungcheol,” you whisper. Around you, the scene begins to flicker, the connection starting to react to the oversaturation of emotion.

“We can talk about it after,” he says, voice hard. “Don’t stay in it. Find the next door.”

Your eyes find the door, but you feel frozen. You want the connection to drop, you want to unlock yourself from the stupid drive-suit and throw yourself into his arms, you want to apologize for leaving him thinking he’d pushed you away, thinking that he scared you into running.

“Cherry,” he warns. “The drift can’t -”

You know. 

And you owe him your side of the story.

You take a steeling breath and head for the door. You don’t take his hand. You don’t know if you deserve to, if he’d want you to.

When you step through the doors, you’re confused - you’re still in your dorm. Your bodies are both in the bed.

Now, though, Seungcheol sleeps, and you - the memory of you - sits on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands. 

You feel the emotion the memory holds, which means Seungcheol does, too.

Fear. It’s still fear - fear that he’ll know, fear that what you just did together will make it worse, make it harder to hide. 

Beside you, Seungcheol’s eyes go wide. 

“We have to move on,” you tell him. He looks at you, then back at the memory. 

“You -?” he starts to ask.

“After,” you tell him firmly. “We’ll talk after.”

You open the door, and you’re suddenly outside, surrounded by white.

Alaska.

The emotion knocks you over with the fury of an ocean wave - even though you know you’re not supposed to let it. This was how you had felt every day that you were gone, and it screams at you now, determined to be heart, determined to be felt. The loneliness, the regret, the despair and heartbreak all rise up in you, overtaking you, as snow falls gently and silently around you.

And the love. That never went away. That never mellowed, as the Marshall had put it.

If he didn’t know before, he has to know now. There’s no way he couldn’t.

Seungcheol squeezes your hand, and you almost jump. You look down at your linked fingers in shock, then up at him, eyes wide.

“We should go back and talk about this,” he tells you, but his grip on you is firm, assuring.

“Okay. It’s this way,” you tell him, trying to breathe, and you lead him by the hand through the snow. The fog strengthens as you walk, until you can’t see anything but grey, can’t see anything but Seungcheol’s hand in yours.

You continue on. You know where to go. When you step through, the fog vanishes as if it was never there, nothing gradual about it. With the fog gone, you can see clearly where you are - inside Duellona Fury’s conn-pod.

As you begin to work on the straps, you call through the intercom, “Kwan? We… need some privacy. We’ve got to talk - alone.”

His voice crackles back at you. “Yes, I’m leaving, I’m already gone. If you hear popcorn crunching, no you don’t.”

Seungcheol gives you a flat look. “Let’s go home and talk,” he suggests.

Home.

You are so afraid and so hopeful. You don’t know how to juggle both.

Back in your small living space, you sit like you’re meditating.

“Let’s figure this out,” he says. “No lies.”

“No lies,” you agree. Your knees touch, and you reach to take his hands. He lets you, giving your fingers a squeeze.

“You knew,” you say first, bordering on accusation. “I was trying so hard to hide how I felt about you… but you knew.”

He nods, his eyes on you. “And you,” he says slowly, “didn’t… know? That I knew?”

You shake your head, confirming. “I didn’t know. I thought I hid it.”

He smiles at you, a little placating. “Not as well as you would have liked.”

“And you…” You chicken out, swallow, force yourself to be brave. “You… loved me, too?”

He nods. “I did.” 

The air leaves your lungs so forcefully that you bend over, pressing your forehead to the tops of your hands. He pulls his hands from yours and you feel his touch, firm and reassuring, cupping your shoulders and rubbing his thumbs along them.

“We felt the same,” you echo into your shins. “You loved me.”

“Cherry,” he says above you, his voice like a plea. “I don’t understand why - when we… when I… I felt like once I forced you to look at it, it was too much. You ran.”

You sit with this for a minute, stunned and processing. His hands are back in yours, which you take as a good sign. 

“You thought… wait. You thought, after that night, that I knew how you felt, too?”

He nods. “I thought you knew,” he says, confusion still present in his tone. “I thought we both knew. I thought if it was out in the open, the glitch in the drift would be fixed.”

You wipe at your face, trying to breathe. “And instead,” you realize, “we couldn’t even connect, because I was still trying to hide it from you, and then you were hurt. I thought it was broken. I thought we really broke it forever.”

He looks at you in wonder. “That’s why you left,” he breathes, and you know he’s understanding this for the first time. “You thought we made the problem worse.”

It’s your turn to nod. “After we…I mean, I knew if I couldn’t hide it from you before that night, there was no chance I’d be able to hide it after. I kept you out in the first place because I… was afraid. I was afraid for you to see how much I loved you. It seemed… hopeless to keep trying.”

The words lay bloody between you, but his grip on your hands is strong, and you take another breath.

You push on, adding, “I was afraid it would be too much. I was afraid everything would change.”

Which it did, you think. He nods, like he hears this, like he agrees.

He releases you and leans back, blowing out a loud breath. “We’re so fucking stupid,” he says, and you splutter out a laugh.

“We really are.”

“I can’t believe we lost three years over that,” he says.

“I can’t believe you thought it was your fault that I left.”

“I can’t believe you left in the first place.”

This makes you smile, guilty. “That’s fair.”

You push yourself to stand; Seungcheol mirrors you, as if you’re already in the neural handshake, bodies working in tandem. 

“Cherry,” he says quietly, stepping closer. “It could never be too much. I love you. I’m crazy about you. I’m only me when I’m with you.”

You remember him, the night you’d slept together, telling you, don’t be afraid. He’d told you, after all, and you’d missed it entirely.

You close the distance between your bodies and kiss him hard. His arms circle your waist immediately, like they were waiting for you. He kisses you back hungrily. His mouth meets yours eagerly, his tongue stroking yours confidently before he shifts his attention to your jaw, your neck, then your mouth again. His hands don’t wander this time - instead he holds you so firmly it almost hurts, like he won’t let you move an inch, won’t let you out of his grasp ever again.

You cradle his face between your hands, let your teeth gently scrape along his bottom lip. “Cheol,” you whisper, then kiss him again. “You’re everything.” It’s what you should have said aloud the night you’d slept with him.

When the kiss breaks, he presses his lips to the top of your head and holds them there, melting around you a little. You give his middle a squeeze, revel in his heartbeat surrounding you like music.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t just say it.”

“Me too,” you tell him, holding him just a little tighter. “I should never have tried to hide it from you in the first place.”

He kisses your temple, and you hold each other, silently, each grappling with the time you’d wasted apart. 

You’re interrupted by a knock. You break apart, puzzled. You’re even more puzzled to see your Marshall at the door, and Seungkwan literally bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

“I’ve heard your drift is working again,” the Marshall says dryly. 

You look over your shoulder at Seungcheol, grinning. “Seems like it.”

“There’s a Cat-1 reading in the bay. I was about to alarm for Pretty Savage to drop, but Savage’s team insisted I give you the opportunity first. They can follow as backup. How do you feel?”

Seungcheol is at your side. He looks at you, his face open and raw. “Well?” he asks you. “Are you in, or are you out?”

“I’m in,” you tell him seriously. “I’m with you.”

You thrum with excitement as a tech team helps strap you into the drive-suits, and you can’t help but shoot Seungcheol a wild grin, your happiness alive and unbounded. 

You tell mission control - Nainsi, probably, just like the old days - “Ready and aligned.”

Mission Control - definitely Nainsi - responds, “Prepare for neural handshake.”

The artificial voice bounces around you - 3… 2… 1… neural handshake initiating…

Around you, the machines flicker busily. Neural handshake strong and holding. Now calibrating…

You’re crying, but you ignore it. You beam through tears, looking sideways at your co-pilot. His eyes dance as he smiles back at you. You want to unstrap yourself to the drivesuit and go kiss his dimples, the dimples you hadn’t seen in years. You resist the urge.

“Ready to drop?”  He looks sideways at you, sly. 

You scoff at him, your own grin cocky and sure, like you’re twenty again, like nothing had ever been broken between you. “Been ready. Let’s light ‘em up.”

– end

thank you so much for reading!!!!

stay tuned for more fics in this universe! Wylie and Chan will get their own fic written by @sailorrhansol, as will Woozi! I'm also planning a Vernon x Reader in this universe, too! Should be a fun time!!

[katsu2ji]

love language — k. bakugou

a/n: i will always die for soft katsuki. always always always.

katsuki has never been good with words.

over the years he has tried—and failed—to be a smooth talker with you. when you guys first started dating, it took him forever just speak to you, let alone say something charming and sweep you off your feet. as you've both gotten older, he has accepted that he simply is not that kind of guy.

however, he's found other ways to show he loves you; ways that are so ingrained in your relationship that it's hard to imagine a day without him in your life.

if he has to go in for work earlier than you, he'll cook breakfast before he leaves, knowing exactly what you like and how you like it. if he makes himself a lunch the night before, you'll find a matching bento box on the kitchen counter with a sticky note that says "don't forget to eat something, idiot. love you." your waterbottle is sitting next to it, along with another sticky note. "i don't need you passing out on me." if you guys get a chance to eat a meal together that day, he always gives you the plate with more food, especially if it's your favorite. you pretend not to notice, of course.

he's all casual affections and intimacy. if you guys are about to go out, he'll stop you to zip up your jacket and adjust your sleeves, making sure you're warm. if he's grocery shopping and passes your favorite flowers he won't hesitate to get them for you. it's a random tuesday night and you ask why he got them, but he just shrugs his shoulders, pretending not to stare at the smile on your face as he watches you take a picture of them in their vase on the kitchen counter. he idly plays with your hands in his lap while you're both watching a movie, having every fine line on the palm of your hand memorized. he's thankful for the dark room hiding the slight blush on his cheeks; after all this time, he's still lovesick.

for awhile, he felt bad about being unable to just simply say everything he wanted. he felt like his inability to write you a long, sweet note, or verbally cheer you up after a long day made him a bad partner. he felt as though his words were too gruff coming out of his own mouth, no matter how softly he may have meant them to be. he believed that he was all hard edges, feeling too rough for the affection that he desperately wanted to give to you.

you, of course, would beg to differ. him getting creative with his ways of saying "i love you" makes his affections all the more sweeter. it reminds you of how observant he is. how he's always listening, even when you think he isn't. it reminds you that he loves you, and that just because he's not shouting it from the rooftops, it doesn't make it any less true.

so yes, he's not very good with words. but he's managed to find other ways to show his love for you. besides, they always said that actions speak louder than words, didn't they?

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[solsays]

Lifers x Crane Wives

I saw someone comment on a life series TikTok or something to try and pair all of the lifers to a crane wives song, without repeating songs. so obviously I spent an hour doing it

Grian—Tongues & Teeth (self explanatory if you’ve EVER heard this song)

Scar—Steady, Steady (this whole song is about how their partner is walking out but they still want to be “wild and free” which is just SO Scar coded)

Tango—Ancient History (he keeps teaming up with Skizz and I feel like this song vibes with that, it also just feels very Tango)

Skizz—Icarus (this man always gives himself up for his teammates I swear, and he fuels them to keep going. It also says “oh brother, brother” which feels like Skizz talking to any of his teammates to me)

Impulse—Allies or Enemies (Impulse has been very iffy on a lot of his alliances throughout the seasons, especially in third life and with the amount of playing all sides that man has done this songs feels right)

Cleo—The Glacier House (this. this is literally just her leaving Fairy Fort. The song is talking to/about her from probably Lizzie’s perspective, but like the last line is 100% as if Cleo was speaking)

Bdubs—Unraveling (Bdubs relies so heavily on his teammates, and when he doesn’t have that stability *cough* Etho *cough* he just kinda doesn’t know what to do so this song fits)

Mumbo—Keep You Safe (this man is by no means an aggressive/reckless player [see: Joel or Martyn] and he feels like he’s just here for the vibes and honestly? Love that for him. This song is about fear not keeping you safe and watching your friends run high risks, which just is very accurate to how Mumbo plays this series. I also feel like he could fit Rockslide when he goes red cause he goes from standstill to “drop dead sprint” in terms of aggression)

Lizzie—Shallow River/New Colors (Lizzie is the only one I put as two because both of these songs are just so fitting. Shallow river—“wasted all for the title, wasted all for the crown” reminds me of Lizzie trying to kill Scott and ending up dying herself instead. I also feel like parts of it could be dead Lizzie talking to Joel, the only person who is really mourning her. New Colors—“don't tell me that I can't, I need this“ and “I give up my air, to breathe” also feel very accurate with how she is trying so hard and just keeps failing )

Jimmy—Canary in a Coal Mine (no further context needed, we all know Timmy)

Scott—Little Soldiers (this is very flower husbands, but also just feels like Scott looking back on the last seasons including Pearl, Jimmy, Martyn, all his reluctant exes. Also this man is the watchers’ like least favorite person ever and this gives that vibe)

Pearl—Ribs (i changed this from New Discovery because Ribs is entirely about somewhat angrily protecting and helping yourself because nobody else would, and it really strikes me as Pearl with the some things having been good (Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss) and some being bad (divorce quartet))

BigB—Not the Ghost (this man is so incredibly odd, he just constantly feels like he is being haunted by the watchers and just going about his life, he is the human personification of gaslight and we love that for him)

Martyn—The Hand That Feeds (he HATES the watchers with every ounce of his being, and with Ren gone I think this guy’s only purpose is just to spite them)

Joel—Sleeping Giants (go listen to it. That’s all there is to it, it just feels very Joel-ish, this lad is absolutely fucking mental)

Ren—Once & for All (this song feels like war and being betrayed, and Ren has been betrayed so much so it just fits. I mean come on “my blood’s forever on your hands” tell me that isn’t 100% something Ren would say)

Gem—Show Your Fangs (Girlboss moment, we love Geminislay. This woman is not someone to be underestimated and this song very clearly says that so it’s very Gem in my head. She doesn’t have enough lore yet to make it angsty but ONE DAY)

Etho—Never Love An Anchor (I can’t explain it, this song just has Etho vibes. I mean “It’s a secret I keep tucked inside my chest” just seems very him, I can’t really tell you why)

[lives-in-midgard]

You Are In Love

Pairing: Evan Buckley x reader

Summary: When you're out with your friends you meet a handsome firefighter. After a while you go on a date and decide to keep your relationship a secret until something happens.

Word Count: 1200

A/N: Hey. This is part of the Buddie-August challenge. This also includes some characters from the Rookie. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Buddie-August hosted by me and @buckys-wintersoldier

Prompt: Kisses

911 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

After a long shift at work one of your colleagues had the idea to go to a bar. You don’t often go to bars with all of them, but today you all finally had time. A lot has changed for you since you started working as a police officer at the Mid-Wilshire Station. You found a lot of friends there and you love your job.

“I’m gonna get a drink, would any of you like one too?” You asked the others.

“Could you get me another one of these.” Lucy said, pointing at her drink and you nodded.

“What about you Tim?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He said, smiling at you. When the others said they didn’t need anything, you made your way over to the bar. While you were waiting in line for drinks, a cute guy stood next to you and waited as well. Somehow he looked familiar to you, but you weren’t sure where you had seen him before. He smiled at you and then you suddenly remembered him. You could never forget that smile.

“You’re firefighter Buckley, right?” You asked and he chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s me. Wait and you are officer L/n.”

“You can call me y/n.” You said with a smile.

“Only if you call me Buck because that’s what everyone calls me.”

“Okay, deal.” You said and he had that sweet smile again. You talked for a few more minutes until your drinks were ready.

“See you around, Buck.”

“See you and be safe.” He said and watched as you walked back to your table. You handed Lucy her drink and sat down next to Tim again.

“Who was this guy?” Tim asked curious.

“Oh, just a friend.” You answered and Tim nodded. You and Tim have been friends and partners for a long time and over time he has become very protective over you. He always knows when something is wrong and is there for you as best as he can.

The next day you kept thinking about your meeting with Buck. He was so sweet and you hope to see him again. You didn’t think you’d see him again soon because just when you had an emergency call and had to call the ambulance, it was the 118 that showed up. You couldn’t really talk to him, but it was great to see each other again.

When you were grocery shopping and walking through the halls someone said your name and when you turned around you saw that it was Buck.

“Hey Buck.” You greeted him with a smile.

“Hey, good to see you.”

“I was wondering if you would like to have a coffee with me sometime?” He suddenly asked.

“Yeah, sure. How about I give you my phone number.” He nodded and pulled out his phone. You tipped in your number and he called you, so you had his number too.

Two days passed until you got a message from Buck. He asked if you were free tomorrow and you agreed to meet after work. At work Tim noticed that you were different, happier and more excited. He didn’t ask you about it, but it made him happy to see you happy.

The coffee date with Buck went very well. You talked about everything that came to your mind. You both really enjoyed it and had a great time. He asked you out on a date and that date turned into another date and suddenly you were in a happy relationship.

You had been dating for about three months now. Usually you were at his house or yours or sometimes you were going out. Favorite things to do together include cooking, watching movies, going to the beach and you enjoying it when he tells you a story from work and then you tell him some stories too. You’re very happy together and try to spend as much time together as possible, even if it can be a bit difficult due to your work shifts. Some people don’t think a relationship between a police officer and a firefighter is a good idea, so you decided to keep the relationship a secret for a while, which wasn’t always easy especially if you would see him on a call.

Today you have been called into a very difficult situation. You called for backup, but things quickly escalated, and you injured your left arm. Luckily, Officer Harper, Officer Nolan and Officer Bradford arrived at the right time to arrest the person. While Harper and Nolan arrested the person, Tim ran over to you and called an ambulance.

“Tim, I’m aright, it’s just a small scratch.”

“Let’s wait and see what the medics say, okay?” Tim said and put some pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. A few minutes later you could already hear the ambulance driving near you. When the doors opened you could see that it was Buck. As soon as he saw you, he ran towards you.

“Babe, are you okay? What happened?” He asked, looking at your arm. When you looked over, you saw that Tim had a confused look on his face.

“I’m okay, it’s just a small scratch.” You said again.

“Let’s go to the truck and I’ll take a look at it.” Buck said, placed his hand on your back and guided you to the truck. Then he removed the cloth from your wound and gently tried to stop the bleeding. You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, babe.” He looked into your eyes and tried to smile at you. Then he looked back at the wound.

“The cut isn’t too deep, so it’s okay if I just bandage it.” He said and you nodded. Buck gently put the bandage over your wound and then gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, honey.”

“Anytime.” He said, then Buck tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and gently pulled you into a passionate kiss. When you broke the kiss, you reached for his hand and smiled at each other.

“I have to go back to work.” You said after a few seconds, even though you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“Me too.” He said, looking over his shoulder to see his friends looking at you both with smiles.

“I guess they all know now.”

“They definitely do.” You said with chuckle. You noticed how happy they all were and then looked over at Tim who was as happy as they were.

“I think I have to go now. See you later.” Buck said and gave you a quick hug.

“See you.” You said, waving at him as you walked away. As you walked to your car, Tim was still standing next to yours and looked at you with a grin.

“Now I know why you’ve been so happy lately.”

“Yeah, Buck makes me really happy.” You confirmed and opened the car door.

You were glad that Tim and Buck’s colleagues now found out about your relationship, but you definitely want to meet them soon on a better occasion. Buck has told you a lot about them, so you’re very excited to meet them.

Taglist:

@cevansbaby-dove | @buckys-wintersoldier

@beaubbdoll

[tjwritesfanfics]

I’m not jealous (Aaron Hotchner)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: Aaron was going to show you how not jealous he is.

Rating: Mature 18+ only

Warnings: Jealous Aaron (though he is adamant he isn't), Reader taking advantage of a sweet guy, manhandling, Dom!Aaron, condescending, being called good girl (which made me MELT), Aaron spanks her once, fingering, overstimulation, Aaron is a sweet aftercare guy

Words: 2.9k

Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

Jealousy can be very ugly.

It can also be very hot. And on Aaron Hotchner it was sexy as hell. The way his jaw clenched, his eyes darken, and the air around him just got thick with tension you knew about, but the line was never crossed.

You had feelings for Aaron, everyone in the BAU knew it, he knew it, and he still had yet to decide what, and if, he felt for you.

You always tried to push him, loving the way he seemed so close to losing it only to watch him attempt to reel himself in. Once you had danced with a guy at the bar after a long case and your eyes never left Aaron. No matter how many times the guy dipped his head to kiss (more like slobbered with how drunk he was) your neck, you continued to stare at him, surprised that the glass he was holding didn’t break with the force of his grip, his knuckles already white.

And when you decided you were done with your dance partner, you attempted to leave only to have him get aggressive. You knew you could fit him off if need be, but it was much more satisfying when Aaron strode over and introduced him to that amazing right hook of his.

It was even better when he took you roughly by the waist and led you out of the bar.

In his car, you tried to push a little more, wanting him to finally admit something to you.

“God,” You sigh and brush your hand down his arm, admiring the way they flex under your touch, “You are so hot when you are jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“There is no need to deny the chemistry between us, Aaron. We aren’t on the clock so you aren’t my Unit Chief, and I am not your underling, though I would so love to be under you.” You purr, warmth flooding your as his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, your eyes following the motion longingly.

It would be easier if he would just give in to what was going on between the two of you.

But sadly, that was where the night ended for you.

Aaron took you back to your apartment, walked you up (like the gentleman he was), and left you there all alone.

Over the next few months you tried again and again to prove there was something between you, not only physically, but emotionally as well.

Pulling him out of his office for lunch or bringing it to him, just to make sure he would eat. Putting sticky notes on his monitor or his desk with little encouragements and reminders since you knew he could get too far into his own head and needed some help out.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t do things for you.

Bringing you coffee, made just to your liking, at the beginning of the shift or when you run low on your own coffee. He always seemed to know when you needed your fix. He also would save you a seat on the plane, the one next to the window because he knows you like to look out at the clouds during long flights.

“When we land, Y/n, Reid and I will go to the police station to set up. Morgan, you and Emily check out the crime scene.”

Aaron dished out the rest of the orders as the plane started to descend. Honestly after he told you where you were going to be, which of course was with him because he always seemed to think he needed to keep an eye on you, something you couldn’t decide if was out of how similar your skill sets are or because he has a constant need to be near you, you stopped listening.

You were certain that it was both. You knew Aaron wouldn’t sacrifice the case or the people involved just for a romantic feeling towards you.

Once you landed and got to the police station, everything seemed to flash by in a whirlwind.

You barely had any time to focus on anything other than catching the asshole that was killing women.

“You seem to be running into the ground, Agent.”

Officer Danny Grant was such a little cutie and seemed to immediately take a liking to you.

“I’ll rest when we catch this guy.” You reach for your cup of awful cop coffee, even though it was the only thing keeping you going at the moment, but frowned when you found the cup empty.

Cursing, you turn away from the board to get more.

“Here.” Grant offered you another cup, his face a little flushed and a smile on his lips. “I noticed you were low. I don’t know how you take it so I just made it black. If you need any creamer or sugar I can get it for you.”

“Thanks, Grant.” You smiled and took the cup. The warmth of it not only warming your hands, but your heart a little as well. Usually Aaron would bring you coffee, but this case seemed to take a toll on him, which you remind yourself you would have to check on him later. Now that someone else noticed and cared enough to bring you something so small, yet so vital, was sweet.

You take a sip of the black coffee, wishing it was sweeter, but the jolt of bitterness was the wake up you needed.

“I usually like it sweet, but black is fine. It’s just what I need.”

Grant continued to stick to your side, helping with the case whenever he could and bringing you more coffee (this time with a side of sugar). He was actually very helpful and you enjoyed the company of him, conversation and ideas bouncing easily.

Aaron on the other hand didn’t like the attention you were getting from the young, wide eyed officer.

He couldn’t stand the fact that he was distracting you from the case at hand (even though he wasn’t actually), the way you laughed when he said something you deemed funny, but it wasn’t, and the thing he hated the most was the smile you beamed at him when he brought you more coffee.

The smile you usually only gave him. Why were you giving it to this guy? Even when the group went out and you flirted with other men, knowing that it would get a rise out of him (though he would never admit it out loud) you never gave them that kind smile, the one that made your nose scrunch up so adorably.

It would be so easy for Aaron to go over there. He can imagine himself pulling you away from Grant. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you felt pressed against his own body. The amount of nights he had to pull himself away from you, unable to cross that line, the line between boss and subordinate. A line that he’s tiptoed since the first time he saw you.

If only it was that simple to give into you.

A few hours later, you could feel your steam running out and your eyes drooping, no matter how much coffee you drank.

“There hasn’t been any new information.” Aaron’s voice woke you just before your head hit the conference table for the second time that night, “Let’s call it a night and look at this in the morning with fresh eyes.”

“No no,” you whine, failing to lift your eyelids, “I can keep going.”

“Agent Hotchner is right. Come on, let's get you to the hotel.”

Just as Grant reached for you, Aaron was quick to his feet, striding over to you with only a few steps and grabbing your shoulder before Grant could. “I have her.” Aaron lifted you up, one hand resting under both of your legs and the other on your back, smirking at Grant as you wrap your arms around his neck and snuggle into him.

The look of shock on the officer’s face was sickeningly satisfying.

Never would Aaron be this bold, especially in front of others, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn't just let this man touch you. Not after spending all day watching his poor attempts at flirting.

You could, and probably would, be upset with him tomorrow.

Aaron lifted his chin, daring others to say anything as he made his way through the precinct with you tucked in his arms. Once you were outside, you push your face into his neck subconsciously, inhaling his scent and sending a shiver through him, thankful that at least some part of you waited until you were out of sight to get clingy with him.

“You are,” You yawn, lips brushing against his skin,”so hot when you are jealous.”

“I am not jealous.”

All you did was hum in response as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

For the rest of the case you stuck to Grant every chance you got, barely paying Aaron any attention.

He knew you were doing it on purpose. You knew he knew that you knew you were doing it on purpose.

Thankfully the team was able to wrap up the case and it was only one night left before you left.

No more case. No more reason to stay in California. No more Grant.

Aaron wonders if he should be as happy as he was as he pressed the button for your floor on the elevator. He doesn’t have much time to think about it when a minute later the elevator door opens and he sees Grant standing at your door, leaning against the open door with you.

“So now that the case is over, do you want to get dinner before you leave? I’m sure hotel food isn’t as good as a good burger at this little dive I know down the street.”

You giggle at his forwardness. While you do love and want Aaron, turning down a free meal from a cute man before you never see him again couldn’t hurt, right?

“You know a little dive? Is it a ‘California delicacy?’”

Grant leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh absolutely.”

Rage and jealousy flows through Aaron, his jaw and fists clenched. His legs carried him towards you before his brain could catch up.

No more games.

In a flash, Aaron grabbed Grant by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back and away from you.

“A Aaron?!” You squeak as the man pushes you into your hotel room, closing and locking the door behind you.

His hands grab your wrists, tugging and trapping them above your head, the air leaving you completely as his lips crash against yours.

The months and months of tension finally exploded within you, arching your hips to meet him, gasping when he grips your wrists tighter in warning.

“You really can’t resist flirting can you?” Aaron’s voice may have been calm, almost bored, but his eyes betrayed the fire, the anger he held. “You just love to rile me up.”

“I thought,” you moan when he moves to kiss your neck, “you weren’t jealous.”

His laugh is condescending, one of his hands snaking down to your side while the other held tight. This was the Aaron Hotchner you wanted, the one you knew he could be if you just pushed right, but now that he was here you didn’t quite know how to handle him.

Not that you would let him know. Not as your body shivers when he rests his hand on your waist, nails digging through the material of your jeans.

“You and I both know I am not. Why be jealous when your body is so truthful with me? It tells me everything,” His smirk widens as he cupped your cunt and you whine, subconsciously grinding against his hand, seeking the dull pleasure you could get through the two layers of fabric separating you, “I need to know. It is an open book for me.”

You want to cry when Aaron withdraws from you, only proving his point further. God you want him. More than absolutely anything.

“Now be a good girl and get on the bed. I want you naked and on all fours by the time I get out of the bathroom.”

“T The bathr…” Your words die on your lips when Aaron gives you a pointed stare, one that has you clenching around nothing, before he walks away from you and into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, almost as if daring you to disobey him.

As much as you wanted to, just to see what he would do to you, you decided that would be for a different time. Quickly shedding your top and jeans, you obey like the good girl you want to be for him.

You wait for what feels like an eternity, but was probably only five minutes before you could hear Aaron’s footsteps coming out of the bathroom. Instinct has you turning your head to look at him, “Don’t you fucking move.” but his harsh voice has you snapping it back and a shiver running down your spine.

Or was that his fingers that danced along your back? Honestly you didn’t know, but you didn;t have time to ponder it before he splayed his open palm across one of your ass cheeks, drawing back and coming down with a swift smack.

You moan, the sudden motion causing you to fall forward, your arms giving out.

“Just a little taste of what happens when you play with me.” Aaron rubbed the spot where you were sure was going to be slightly red from the force. “But I won’t give you more since you seemed to follow my orders like such a good girl.”

A whine escapes you at his words. You wanted to hear them over and over. To be praised by him over and over. His fingers ghost from your ass straight to your center, pressing and feeling, but never fully sinking into you.

“Oh fuck,” You squirm under his carful attention, “Please. Please Aaron!”

“Please what? How will I know what you want without words?”

You cry as the tip of his finger comes dangerously close to your clit only for him to pull it away just as quickly. You knew what he was doing. He was teasing you just like you had teased him, almost like a form of sick payback, and though he did have the upper hand, you felt like you had already won.

You had him in bed.

“Please touch me, Aaron. I need your hands on me, in me, anything.”

“There we go.” 

The reward for your confession was sweet. His fingers circled your clit, applying the right amount of pressure that had you moaning loudly. Aaron continued to work you, leaving your brain in a haze of pleasure which only intensified when he finally moved to sink one finger into your core.

“Fuck..” Aaron curses, his finger setting a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you, admiring the embarrassingly wet noises your cunt makes. “You are so wet.”

You moan when he slides a second finger in, then a third, the stretch burning oh so deliciously.

He’s got you at his mercy, hips rocking back to meet his thrusts, drool pooling on the hotel sheets below you. “Aaron!” You cry, the coil in your gut pushing and pushing you closer to the edge, threatening to break and toss you into a sweet release.

“Let go.”

With his permission, and his fingers brushing that sweet spot that made you see stars, you do.

You scream as your orgasm crashes into you. If the outside could hear you, you didn’t care. All that mattered was Aaron, his name the only thing occupying your mind and the only thing spilling out of your mouth as if it was the only name you knew.

And right now it was.

Aaron continued to thrust his fingers into you, helping you through your orgasm until you tried to pull away from him, but his other hand gripped your waist, pulling you back and onto his fingers.

“Aaron!” You squirmed. It was too much, but you didn’t want him to stop as his fingers expertly stroked and thrust, bringing you to a second orgasm in record time. Tears prick your eyes, your body shaking, feeling weightless and not here.

You didn’t even notice when Aaron carefully turned you on your back, brushing your hair back from your face and kissing your forehead. He treated you like procaline, peppering kisses all over your face until you came back to him. “There’s my girl.”

His girl. The thought had you smiling like a lovesick fool, which was appropriate because you were. No longer were the steel eyes and lustful gaze, but soft brown eyes filled with an adoration you weren’t used to seeing. You swallow and reach for him. Aaron wrapped you in his arms and held you close.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Now what? Was he going to continue? Fuck you? Or, and something you hoped he wouldn’t do, leave you.

Aaron, the ever brilliant profiler he was, could see the war going on in your head before you could speak. He leaned down to kiss you, hand gently rubbing shapes on your upper thigh.

“Don’t worry. I will be right here for more when you wake.”

You feel a little guilty about not returning the favor, but Aaron quickly shuts that down. He grabs the hotel comfort and pulls it up, covering the two of you, tucking you into his chest. Your eyes feel heavy from the force of cumming twice (and Aaron’s skilled fingers) that you couldn’t seem to argue, eyes closing as sleep takes over.

You definitely would make him feel good when you wake up.

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[slushycoookie]

My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt.1

Relationship: Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Content: Smut, definitely smut, p in v, oral sex, overstimulation, belly bulge, breeding kink in FULL display, fertility issues, Minors DNI!!

Summary: You find out Miguel has a symbiote for the most unexpected reason.

A/N: I kept thinking about Symbiote! Miguel and I just had to do it. If yall saw that recent concept art of him, he looks fucking huge. So as a birthday present to myself, I wrote this. Something to get us by while I continue writing the Valentine's Day one.

Miguel had a symbiote.

You knew the first day he got it. He was acting strange. More aggressive, energetic, and driven to his Spider Society cause. Also rough. You knew it when he pulled you in for a passionate goodbye kiss.

Plus, he was huge. You didn't think it was possible for your husband to get a bigger size in his suit. It oozed a foreign entity. He was rougher with his enemies. Causing them to be bruised and bloody at the end of the battle. Your Miguel showed some restraint. You weren't sure what this Miguel was.

Jess told you at the end of the day, confirming your suspicions. “He has a symbiote.”

“I figured…” You played with the necklace that had your wedding band between your fingers. “How did he get it?”

“No clue. One day, he was his grouchy self. Next day, he was extra grouchy.”

“What can we do? We have ways to get rid of it.”

Jess gave you a knowing look, “You know it's not easy with symbiotes. The wearer has to get rid of it on their own. Part of the-”

“Canon event. I know…” You sighed. You weren't going to get scared. Be afraid for your husband's life. You would take the knowledge you knew now in stride, even if that meant dealing with the fact that your partner had an alien on his body.

You didn't confront him about the symbiote. You saw no need to. Ben and Jess were informed. You wanted them to watch him so he wouldn't go too far. But you didn’t like how he was acting. He never took it out on you, but everyone else was a different story. It was hard for you to sleep, knowing your husband was in control of an alien.

One night, he came home late. You were still awake, watching his hulking form linger throughout the house. If you were normal, you'd be terrified.

“Miguel?” You called from the hallway. He turned towards you. His mask was still up. The eyes were sharp, filled with an unknown emotion you couldn't grasp.

“Our wife.” His voice was deep, rumbling to your core. Sharp teeth and a long tongue caught your eye. He inched to you like a predator. You backed up, mind playing out hundreds of backup plans you had once you found out about his new form. You jumped when hitting a wall. Cornered as Miguel hovered above you. His head trailed up and down in fascination. “So pretty. To eat.”

“I said we're not eating her.” Half of Miguel's face appeared, causing you to relax a little. He was still in there. To a certain extent.

“Not the type of eating we were talking about.” The symbiote sized you up even more. You didn't know how to take that. Miguel entirely took over, his face in view.

“I'm sorry. I'm still getting the hang of this.”

“Why did you do this?” You motioned to all of him, “For a man who doesn't play when it comes to canon events, you go ahead and play around with an alien.”

Miguel sucked his teeth, “I had a good reason, baby.” You blinked, waiting for him to come up with a good explanation. He shifted, his large form shaking the photos on the wall. You couldn't see any reason for him to form with a symbiote.

“I thought…it would help in our process of trying to have a baby.”

You froze. The extensive trials you and Miguel went through in trying for a baby were unsuccessful. He knew about your fertility issues. He knew before you got married. You didn’t expect him to go and fuse with a symbiote to boost the rate of being able to have a baby.

“The symbiote enhances my body.” Miguel explained, “Maybe we could try to use it to help us conceive.”

“Won’t the symbiotes…genes get in…?” You placed a hand on your stomach, not believing that you were considering it.

“No. It won’t affect any of our genes. It just increases the output.”

You scoffed, “So you would have super sperm?”

“In a way.” Miguel shrugged, hovering over you. You noticed how small you were compared to him. Your thighs squeezed together at the sight. “We should try it. See what happens.”

Common sense was starting to leave the window. Just having Miguel’s hulking frame above you, his eyes lowered in lust, was not helping. You were curious yourself. Would the symbiote help you finally be able to conceive? So your family can get bigger?

“You want me to have sex with the symbiote?”

Miguel chuckled, face down to your neck, taking in your delicate scent. “It’s still me. I promise.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders. His suit was sticky and you felt restraint when tried to remove your hands. You had no idea what you were doing. But it was your husband. You trusted him, knowing he wouldn’t harm you. So you had to take a leap. Literally. Miguel was so large you had to jump to even kiss him.

Your body flushed against his own as his tongue dove into your mouth. You were so caught up in kissing him, absorbed in how his hands groped and felt you, to realize you were in your bedroom.

You yelped when landing on the bed. Miguel's form hit the ceiling, standing at the edge. Waiting.

“Strip.” The voice was back again. Low, deep, and commanding. You blushed at how much that turned you on. Even with the monstrous teeth and all. You weren't wearing much besides a t-shirt and shorts, tossing them into darkness. Only remaining in your panties.

Miguel cupped himself, eyes trained on the prize between your legs. “All of it.”

You slid down your underwear at a slow pace. Even if you were about to get bred by a symbiote, you knew Miguel would still go crazy over your teasing. Pride swelled in your chest as his breathing became ragged. Every ounce of resistance he had in fucking you into the ground was waning. It wasn't until your panties were thrown aside that he pounced on you.

The bed creaked at the extra size. Miguel's symbiote used its long tongue over your neck, tasting the slight sweat. Your breasts, twirling at one nipple while his fingers pinched the other. Before going down to your stomach and over what he wanted most.

“We deserve to know how you taste…”

If you could squeeze your thighs together right now, you would. But your partner kept them separated. Spread wide enough for him to get a full view of your dripping sex. The tongue was back as it was his turn to tease you. Gliding along your inner thighs, not touching an inch of your cunt. You whined at how close he was. You tried to move your thighs to get him where you wanted but to no avail.

“Please…” You swallowed, heaving at the lack of touch. “Don’t tease…”

A guttural growl resonated in the room, which made you quiver even more. “You're so pretty when you beg.”

His tongue was heaven. Taking turns licking at your sensitive bud, thrusting in and out of your hole. Slurping sounds letting you know how much he loved tasting your cunt. You weren't sure if digging your hands into his covered head was a good idea so your hands fisted the pillows. Head back and unable to control your sounds of pleasure.

“Miguel…oh my…” You felt that familiar sensation rise in your stomach. Not stopping as he continued to please you. And you accepted it, climaxing for him. This was different from your normal Miguel. While he did make you see stars, this one was determined to make you see God. The way he didn’t stop after you came for him, eating your pussy like a starved man. When you tried to have the strength to pull away, his hand placed flat on your stomach. Overstimulation crept in as you shook under his hold. Thank goodness he pulled away, showing you his mouth glistening in the moonlight.

“We need you. Now.”

Your eyes widened when seeing his cock on full display. Miguel was big. Very big. Cock enlarged, veiny, pre cum beading around the tip. He was going to kill you if he put that thing inside.

“Where?” You gulped, pushing back your rising fear.

Miguel sat back against the headboard and settled you into his lap. Your back lay against his chest, staring at the gigantic cock. He grabbed a hold of your thighs, lifting and spreading you as wide as he could. You bit your lip as his dick slid against your sex, coating himself in your arousal. You couldn't do much in this position. Besides lie back and take it.

You shook as he entered you. Arms around his neck and digging into them as you sank down. Your mouth gaped, but nothing came out.

“Come on.” Miguel pushed, his own voice coming out a little tense. “You can take more…”

You clawed at his neck, sinking down further. It was to the point where there was a slight bulge in your belly. Which has never happened before. Once he bottomed out, he gave you time to adjust. You knew Miguel was being gentle, his arm muscles tense as he didn’t want to hurt you. You nodded when you were ready and he took control. He slid you all the way up, only leaving the tip of his cock inside before thrusting up into you.

He was massive. Easily filling you up while he pumped inside. Tears brimmed in your eyes. There was no coherent thought in your mind. With each intoxicating thrust, you couldn’t think. All you wanted was for him to keep going. To use you like this as long as he wanted.

Your eyes rolled back when his cock hit a perfect spot. Not feeling any of your lower body. “M-Mig…”

“We have you. Pretty little thing…” His face snuggled against your head, still maintaining the hard and sharp thrusts. Miguel’s suit made a tendril, slithering over to you to give more attention to your aching clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation. The familiar burning of your release was quickly rising again into something more. You struggled in Miguel’s hold, wanting to move away and escape your impending doom.

“Don’t…You’re gonna make me…” You whined, frantic breaths escaping.

“We want you to do it.”

There was no room for negotiation. Between the exhilarating way his cock stretched you and the advance on your clit, you were going to explode. You cried for your husband while soaking his cock with your fluids. Tightening around him for his seed. Aching to have him breed you. Miguel’s grunts turned into growls. Grating noises that shook the entire room. His thrusts were rough as now he was chasing his original goal. To pump his cum into you.

You didn’t move, watching your husband desperately paint you inside. There were one, two, three more thrusts before he let out a roar. His seed filled you up perfectly. It was so much that it was leaking out, even as Miguel tried to thrust more in. You didn't know what else to do if you didn’t get pregnant by this.

Once Miguel had his fill, he slipped out, placing you to the side. His face was back as he peppered your own with soft kisses.

“You okay?” You hummed, your throat a little sore. He held you close in a protective way, not wanting to let go for a moment. “Hopefully this works.”

“If it doesn’t…” You struggled to say with your raspy voice, “you’re getting rid of that thing.”

[venuiscmind]

i was replaying part two and all i can think of is the scene where dina and ellie talk about if anyone is still making movies. imagine ellie doing everything she can to find a camera so you and her can make your own type of movies ?? id explode.

Only on Camera (Ellie Williams x reader smut) 18+

Hiiiiii. Loved the request and has been on my mind ever since you asked for it. Bartender Ellie is still on the way but this just inspired me so much!!! ( also this was written at 3am so pls ignore any errors ooph) (W.C 3k)

Scissoring, tribbing, fingering, oral, making out, spit play (only a tiny bit), squirting, pet names.

read this.

</3.

If you asked Ellie, she'd tell you that she never thought she would be like one of those girls that she had seen on the smut magazines or pictures she had come across in patrols or in scavenges for trading material. The thought had briefly crossed her mind while she was on a patrol with Dina, and she had asked her if she thought 'Was anyone still making movies out there.' but she kept her lips firmly shut. 

Then she had actually discovered those tapes in Eugene’s Library.

Ellie never watched them whenever she returned to the library, but she was a woman possessed. She had to make trips back whenever she was patrolling the creek trails with Dina, and she would always take some weed back with her to trade or to smoke with you. She had even began trading the leaves with the others in Jackson swapping them for little things that she thought you would love like clothes, certain snacks or trinkets you would store in safe places. 

She loved seeing you happy and sometimes wished she could capture these moments of you smiling up at her or hugging her to say thank you forever. Make them permanent and tangible so she could hold onto it for the rest of her life.  

That was when she thought back on those tapes again. Not thinking of the girls or what they were doing on them but of you, and how you would look better on camera than any of them. Clothes on or not.  

And that was how it started. Her signing in at any patrol spot and then begging her partner to give her an hour to turn the place over to find what she was looking for. She began expanding her search to places that weren't necessarily on the patrol route but still needed to be checked out, schools, malls that seemed to be as stocked as could be in the apocalypse, certain houses that hadn't been too badly ransacked and lone stores that could have what she needed. 

Nothing. To say she was getting frustrated was an understatement, but she didn't give up. She wanted to try. So, she kept looking and bribing her partner to look the other way. Then one day it clicked. After weeks of ransacking and mauling properties she looked in the place where it had all started. She tied Shimmer outside of Eugene's library and got to work immediately.  

Finally in one of the drawers she found a handheld camera, still in good condition and as luck would have it still had storage. "Yes." She sighed into her frozen hands and silently thanked the soul of the now deceased Eugene. She stuffed the camera into her backpack and rode back to Jackson with a new stride in her step.  

She didn't bring up the idea to you immediately, but she did bring the camera to show you. Despite her frantic search Ellie wanted to ease the idea of being on tape onto you as gently as possible. But it didn't take long for her to ask. 

It was a rare evening that the both of you had off, Ellie relieved from her patrols for the day and you from your duties in the stables and gardens of Jackson. You spent it how you always did. At each other's respective houses, this time it was at Ellie's, and you had spent the day watching movies and keeping each other warm against the bitter cold of the town's winters.  

You started off watching the first few films side by side, sharing a blanket, then Ellie took your legs and swung them over her lap in the name if making you comfier. Soon after you had simply gravitated towards each other, each movement had you growing closer, negating any space between the two of you until you had gotten close enough to sit in her lap.  

You slid your leg on the other side of hers, so that you could straddle her and hear her ask a simple "you okay to keep going?" Your responses were always the same. A small kiss to her lips and a "yes els, keep going." mumbled against her lips. 

The dim light of the movie, kept Ellie's flushed face visible to you as you stroked the side of her face and leaned in, being met by her halfway as she arched up to kiss you. You always felt so foggy whenever you kissed her.  

Like all the heat in your body would suddenly flare up and you could short circuit. You felt as though your heartbeat had started for the first time and you couldn't get any oxygen into your lungs. But you didn't need any. Ellie was all you needed. With her hands gripping your waist before moving the soft flesh of your ass.  

You moaned into her mouth at the touch, sliding your hands up into her hoodie palming her tits and sliding your tongue into her mouth which was already open and accepting you into her. Your heart suddenly swelled at this, feeling the love the girl under you held for you and only you.  

Ellie leaned back and pulled away from you leaning her head against the arm of the couch, looking at you for a second, lips shiny with a small string of spit connecting the two of you together. She wanted to ask you desperately but didn't to make things weird now especially when she wanted to take care of you. You saw the furrow on her brow and whispered to her "Els, are you okay over there?" looking at the expression on her face. You moved to get off, but she kept her hands firmly planted before opening her eyes fully and settling them onto you.  

"Y-yeah just wanted to ask you about something. You can a hundred percent say no, but I just wanted to see if you maybe wanted to-" "It's about that camera, isn't it?" You cut off your poor girl's rambles feeling she'd never actually ask and keep circling. You looked into her eyes lovingly and smiled softly, continuing to stroke the swells of her cheeks.  

"I want to if you want to els." This caused Ellie to groan under you and offer reassurance of "we can stop anytime you want just say," or "we don't have to you know?". You knew she was assuming and worrying you were doing this for her, but the idea had popped into your head ever since she placed the camera into your hands. You wanted to make sure your love lasted forever. On film and with each other too. You lead Ellie to her bed, hand in hand and sat her down, kissing her before setting the camera up on her desk opposite the bed, facing the both of you before flicking it on and confirming the red dot was flickering. 

You turned to her pulling your shirt over your head and placing it on her desk and heard her breath hitch at the act that she would have this captured on film forever. 

You looked back at the girl on her bed, elbows holding her up as she leaned back on them gazing up at you with her shining green eyes. "C'mere." she said holding her hands out to you beckoning you over.  

You took them and she pulled you down onto the bed, the movement causing you to realise how much slick had pooled between your legs and probably coated your underwear.  

Ellie kissed your cheeks before pulling off her hoodie and her jeans, leaving her in a black wifebeater and her underwear. You took a shaky deep breath as she crawled in the space where your legs were open and lay on top of you, who wrapped your thighs around her middle in response to the intrusion of your space.  

You helped her pull off your pants leaving you only in your underwear. You shivered and pulled her in for a kiss which she gave you but quickly pulled back in favour of getting up and gripping your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the bed to make sure the camera would get all of what you were giving her making your shriek at the sudden movement. 

You huffed and cried out as she placed a kiss to your underwear. "shh" Ellie placated you rubbing her hands up your thighs to soothe you. She mouthed at you through the garments, listening to you shuffle and moan out at the contact. Her tongue traced around your clit before sucking on the bundle of nerves, making you cover your mouth as your jaw loosened and moans escaped your lips.  

"Ellie, please don't tease I can't take it." you groaned, but the girl was through tormenting you, pushing your underwear aside to taste you properly, spitting on your clit before sucking in your clit again. She slid her fingers against your folds, feeling you shiver against her, as she pushed into you, and settled against the spongy spot inside you. She didn't stay still though, as per your request. She never was good at denying you anything.  

She couldn't get enough of the taste sticking to her tongue and decided she wanted more before shoving her tongue inside of you after sliding her fingers out of you gently. You were so close you sobbed telling her and reached out to pull her short hair closer to your body scratching at the back of your neck. She loved when you did this groaning at the small bits of pain you were giving her she thought while her nose bumped against your clit due to your hips moving.

She hoped the camera wouldn't pick up on the way she was grinding against her own legs folded beneath her, to get some friction from the wetness in her underwear.  

She felt you cream and cum around her tongue, she lapped up as much as she could, tasting the tartness and sweetness of you in her mouth as you came on her lips. She pulled away once she felt you whine, knowing you would be overstimulated too fast if she continued so she kissed her way back up your body, grasped your jaw and you opened your lips before she even said the word "open." 

She let the liquid pool into her mouth then spat straight onto your outstretched tongue. She pushed her fingers into your mouth and felt you swallow around them. Ellie groaned watching you swallow yourself down with blown out pupils. "That's it." she said watching you, "My fucking good girl." You hummed, suckling on her thumb until there was nothing of you left to devour.  

You leaned up to kiss her then whispered in her ear "want you on me els, please?" You leaned back feeling yourself clench around nothing, aching again to feel her again. Ellie let you wrap her arms around her neck, pressing your tits against hers and kissing up her jawline to try and convince her of something she was going to do from the start.  

"Of course, baby." she whispered, kissing your cheeks back and cradling your head. She began taking off the rest of her clothes as you leaned back, letting her climb on top of you. She grabbed the back of your knees spreading them, moulding you into the position she wanted you in. You complied with her, running your hands down the lines of her abs, completely enamoured with the girl on top of you.  

She sank down slowly biting her full lips between her teeth to bite back the moans that were threatening to escape them. You wanted to hear her though, so you grabbed onto her hips gently to start fucking back onto her, coaxing her voice out of her lungs. She gasped and moaned, feeling your clits bump and your collective wetness start to mix together. "holy fuck." she groaned. She would never get used to the feeling of grinding against you. Every time she did it, she felt like she was living for the first time.  

She looked at you, blushing and trying to keep humping against her without finishing before her and had to close her eyes so as not to cum at the sight of it alone but fuck she was close. "Think I'm goanna cum oh shit-." She said cutting herself off as she felt the heat rise in her core and down to her clit as she felt herself tighten again. "so close els, cum on me please." You begged the girl above you. 

She came listening to your babbling underneath you. Ellie gushed and came just as her clit glided up against you, completely coated in your slick and felt herself float out of her body as her eyes rolled back into her skull. She also felt herself gush and squirt around you, holding onto your hands to keep herself grounded and so she didn't fall off your quivering body. She triggered your own orgasm as she felt your folds shake, squeezing around nothing but her slick.  

Once she finished panting and recovered from her orgasm she got up, remembering the camera was still on the both of you. She turned it off watching the light blink out and went back into bed after grabbing towels to clean you both. She dressed you in a shirt and kissed you.  

"Thank you, pretty girl. Can't wait to watch it." She grinned looking over at you while tossing the camera between her hands, as you blushed and covered your face, before jokingly slapping her arm. 

"As long as we watch it together, I want to see you squirt on me." It was her turn to blush at this, but she leaned in before closing her eyes to kiss you again and say, "Love you baby." in a hushed and enamoured tone. 

"Love you too els." You said fondly, wrapping your arms around the girl, covering you both in her sheets and nuzzling her nose.

[evielmostdefinitely]

Just read Cold Tonight! It was AMAZING pls do a (kinda) part 2 about the time she yelled @ him at the university? I know it was only a small part but I would love a fic about it! Thanks! Your an amazing writer

jealous girl |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: your jealousy leads to you causing a scene at university. coriolanus has to correct you. a/n thank you!! i'm so glad you enjoyed cold tonight and hope you enjoy this!

contains: smut 18+. dom/sub themes (consensual). dark, possessive but in love snow. jealous!reader. manhandling. degrading-ish??? spanking with implements (cane).

Coriolanus knew the flush of his cheeks matched the red of his uniform, that familiar burn searing through his veins. Embarrassment? Fury? He wasn’t entirely sure. 

“Can you wait for a moment?” Corio tried to keep his tone light, tracking you without running. It was embarrassing enough, your little tantrum. Storming out of the library in a fit, huffing and puffing petulantly down the stairs. Coriolanus was mortified, biting his tongue to keep it from lashing at you in public, causing an even bigger scene. 

“Darling, please,” Corio hissed, chin ducking, avoiding the wandering gazes of passersby. “Please calm down and act rationally.” 

“Rationally?” You halted, whipping around with a look so dangerous and threatening, it made him flinch. “You want me to respond rationally to that?” You threw your hand out, a woman possessed, blinded by fury. All education, etiquette casted outward at the glimpse of him in the library. Clemesia’s hand on his arm, leaning in flirtatiously. 

“Lower your tone.” Coriolanus hissed, eyes cutting around him. Peers and instructors glancing over at the two of them. Snow and Duke, the couple that already had enough eyes watching, now with even more, putting on a show. 

“I told you it wasn’t like that-” 

“-Oh, save me the lies, Coriolanus.” You huff, waving your hand dramatically. He flinched at the use of his full name. You never called him that, not unless you were truly furious. “She was all over you.” 

“We’re study partners, sweetheart.” Corio gritted, pulling you closer to him, hand squeezing your bicep in warning. “We were just studying.” 

“Oh? Then you’ve studied with me in a very similar manner, haven’t you?” You sneered, eyes narrowing in challenge. 

Coriolanus wasn’t sure if he could flush any deeper red, burning even more with embarrassment at the alluded comment to your sex life. The girls passing giggled, covering their mouths with their hands, eyes cutting back at the two of you. 

“How dare you.” Corio snapped, pulling you roughly into him. He continued his steps towards the door, his hand holding you close even as you struggled. “Can you try and have a little decorum? Some manners? Or have you lost your mind entirely?” 

“Have I lost my mind?” You gaped, digging your heels and coming to a complete stop, yanking his grip off your arm. Coriolanus cringed, the few bystanders turning. “You’re asking me if I’ve lost my mind? Have you lost yours?” 

Coriolanus hissed your name under his breath, reaching back for you. You smacked his hand away. “Let's go.” He hissed. “You’re causing a scene. You’re embarrassing me.” 

“Embarrassing you? I’ll show you embarrassing, Coriolanus Snow, because you have embarrassed me!” Your voice rang through the tall ceiling, bouncing off the marbled floors. The building seemed to settle into complete silence, and Corio thought he might pass out from pure embarrassment. 

Your eyes were wild, furious, chest heaving with rage. Corio knew the Peacekeepers outside wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you, not without your father having each of them tortured. Still, Coriolanus grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the building, head tucked in shame at the snickering laughter that floated out after him. 

***

“You embarrassed me-” 

“-I embarrassed you? You embarrassed me, you bastard!” You roared over him, pacing in the small living room of your penthouse. 

“I told you we are just study partners!” Coriolanus roared back, teeth bared in a nearly animalistic way. The embarrassment had fizzled into fury. 

“Oh, it really looked like study partners.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “She was all over you! What if I did that, hm?” 

“Stop it.” Corio growled. 

“What if I went out with my ‘study partner’ and let him touch all over me, or touched all over him? What would you think then?” You sneered, challengingly. “It would be alright, right? Because we’re just study partners, so he can touch me anyway he wants-” 

Coriolanus felt it coming, the snap. His composure busting, nerves fried, and sanity on the brink of dissolve. His hands found your shoulders, pinning you roughly against the couch, hovering over top of you with a wild-eyed glare that had you gasping in surprise. 

“If you ever let another man touch you, I would cut his fucking hands off on the steps of the Capitol Building for everyone to see.” Corio hissed, eyes dark, teeth gritted. 

You gaped, heart hammering in surprise, maybe fear. “And don’t you ever accuse me of looking at someone else, do you hear me? Don’t you dare speak so lowly of me. Disrespect me in that way. Insulting me, thinking I’d ever give a damn about Clemensia.” Corio spat, face twisting in a soured expression. 

You shuddered, your own eyes wide watching him, still under his pinned grip. “I have and only will love you. My heart belongs to you, my soul belongs to you. You have every piece of me, and you dare insinuate I would give a part of me to someone else? There’s nothing left to give even if I wanted to. You have it all.” 

Your lip wobbled, tears brimming your vision at the passion of his words. Your own anger and frustration dwindling, squirming under the bruising grip of his fingertips in your shoulders. “And to ever think I would entertain the thought of someone else.” Coriolanus' nose snarled in disgust. “To cause a scene like that? Embarrass me and yourself over your own blind jealousy? Over your own insecurities? Throwing a fit like a child.” 

Your lip wobbled, cheeks flushing furiously with embarrassment at your actions, suddenly very aware of how public they were. 

“I won’t stand for it.” Coriolanus shook his head firmly. 

“Corio,” You whisper, words strangled in your throat, nose burning with tears of embarrassment. “I-I just-” 

“-Don’t you dare try to excuse your actions.” Corio snapped fiercely, but his grip loosened. “You embarrassed me.” 

Your eyes casted downwards, looking at the rose pinned to his shirt. You couldn’t meet his eyes, not when they chastised you, made you feel so small. 

“I should take you back there. Punish you in front of everyone so they know I’m not weak.” Coriolanus sneered. “So they know that I don’t allow my girl to act in such an ill mannered way. So hysterical and crazed, you should be ashamed.” 

Your lip wobbled, swallowing the thick tears building in your throat. “I’m sorry, Corio. I just-I thought you-” 

“-You should know better.” Coriolanus shook his head, releasing you from his grip, sitting back so he hovered over you. “I’ve taught you better than this. I know I have.” 

Your spine tingled with an icy chill, the lingering threat in his tone, lips set in a displeased snarl. “I thought you were finally learning. Finally better. Clearly, you still need to learn.” 

“No,” It sounded far too whiny for your own liking, further proving Corio’s point. “Corio, I’ve learned, I swear. I just- I just lost my temper when I saw her touching you-” 

“-I’ve had enough of the excuses.” Coriolanus snapped, hand wrapping back around your bicep, pulling you into the small study. It was your apartment, but the study was Corio’s. You had it converted for when he stayed over and needed to do school work for University. 

It also harbored all his favorite torturous toys for your thrilling sex life. 

Corio pulled you over the mahogany desk, flipping your skirt up like a naughty school girl. His cock throbbed at the sight, your bottom raised and presented for him. He knew you’d be upset, already sniffling and pouty, which is exactly why he pulled out the cane. 

“I want you to remember this lesson,” Corio’s voice was commanding, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up before he stood behind you. You gasped, writing away when he tapped the cane gently against the skin of your ass, one hand anchoring your back into place. 

“The next time you think of behaving so inappropriately.” Corio looked at you through the mirror, holding your gaze. “The next time you forget your place in my life.” The cane cut through the air with a ominous swish, landing on cheeks, etching a thin line over the two globes. 

The caning Coriolanus gave you was brief but brutal. Ten strokes, raised onto your skin, leaving you sniffling and sobbing over the desk, a pool of tears pathetically beneath your chin. Corio spent the night babying you, after rutting into you, grunts and whispers of his own affections pressed into your tear soaked cheeks.

[yeokii]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ   𝓐.DORE YOU ❨ 이희승 ❩

꒰ synopsis ꒱ all hopes were crushed when you realized there was no way to get close to your crush, choi beomgyu. your advances to get close to him never seemed to work. so, you decided to get closer to his best friend, heeseung, by joining the broadcasting club. but as scripts change, so do crushes, and you end up falling for his best friend instead.

▸ auditions are open . . . !

ㅤ❕MATCHMAKER ── crush's bsf ! heeseung x reader

fast forward  ⃕ [ genre ] : written, fluff, 90s/20th century girl au, slowburn

meet the members ! beomgyu, soobin, jungwon, karina, rei, sunghoon, lia, my ocs

warnings 𖧷 angst but also teeth rotting fluff, suggestive ─ kissing; making out, cursing, skinship, afab reader, mentions of parties and underage drinking, slowburn like actual slowburn u might fall asleep, heeseung has mommy and daddy issues (erm), mentions of injuries (nothing serious) heeseung is mean at first gn, heeseung typical cold kdrama ml, beomgyu fboy era real (01z on top what can I say) lmk if there's anything I missed!

ㅤhe's a real catch ▹ 23K (lol what.)

⌕ [ archives ] one result found . . . hi hi my heeseung long fic era is finally here !! also happy early birthday to my sewlmate @yenqa hope u like my silly little work books butt!!! I had the urge to write a hee fic after watching a time called you (but my inspo is mostly from 20th century girl) also yes I tried a diff type of writing so hopefully it doesn't come out as childish eurm and I did not mean to make it this long bye also ty yen yen for making my synopsis and for proof reading !! (love ya stinkabutt) alsooo the end won't be like the end?? like ill write some drabbles for this!! I just wanted to get this over with lmao anyways hope you enjoy !! reblogs and comments r very much appreciated ^^

The fall of nineteen-ninety-six marked a pivotal moment in your life. Ever since you came into the world, you never really could grasp the concept of love. You wrapped your head around the myths and tales your mother would read to you every night. You thought that every princess would have her own shining knight in armour. So after thirteen years of living, where was yours?

Your knight in shining armour, or knights in shining armour, existed within the pages of the comic books you read. You often wondered if they would magically pop out of your books and transport you into their world.

Similarly, you wondered whether any of the characters from your adored TV shows  would step out and bring you into their lives.

So, it wasn't a surprise when your jaw dropped to the ground as you saw the most beautiful man in your life (well, technically, boy). If the epitome of beauty was a fourteen-year-old boy, it would be Beomgyu.

But it wasn’t just his face that made your thirteen-year-old self swoon over him, it was also the way he acted. You loved the way he conversed, his smooth way of talking at a young age and the way he smiled at you every time he made jokes with his friends. You loved how his eyes lightened every time he’d pull a silly prank.

But the problem was, he never talked to you. You admired him from afar. You never actually had the guts to talk to him.

As if You were content with watching his funny actions from a distance. There were some moments when you pushed aside your nervousness and talked to him.

You remember having butterflies in your stomach the moment you first talked to him. There were times when you both were paired up as project partners for a biology assessment and at that moment, you swore you would have worshipped the floor that your biology teacher walked on due to her giving you an opportunity like this.

You knew this was an opportunity to make your move. And you did. You brought him small snacks with little notes on them. Gave him gifts regularly. Maybe even took lessons from your best friend on how to subtly flirt with him. You really thought you had him. Because whenever you used to play out these little acts, you saw the subtle smile on his face. You were so close. It’s like the universe laid it out for you. Gosh, how lucky you were!

Luck. The luck that you thought you had. If luck was a person, you would’ve tackled it to the ground already. Because the day you were about to confess to him was the day he announced his new girlfriend. 

His first girlfriend. You doubt you called it ‘love’ since the only thing she cared about was that he was popular and pretty. That’s it? All that girl could get from Beomgyu was his looks and his reputation. You could’ve scoffed at the sight.

Beomgyu was so much more than that. He was loyal, kind, and trustworthy. And she went for his looks. Even though she had him, you felt as if she was missing out on so much. You were partly sad due to them getting together and also due to Beomgyu getting used to his looks.

So, you were practically prancing when you heard the news of their breakup a month later. Did you care that Beomgyu was absolutely heartbroken? Well, yes, but you felt relieved that Beomgyu was finally unleashed from that mean troll's wrath.

And as he got older, he grew more handsome. And God did you love it. When you entered high school he was a completely different person. He had gotten more flirty and way more pretty. He was way out of your league. 

Out of the years you were in this crappy high school, you made absolutely no improvement in your and Beomgyu’s relationship. Beomgyu, who kept getting new flings every summer and tons of situationships seemed to discard your existence. One could only say ‘What the fuck?’

Your thoughts swirled, and you had a collection of emotions roaming around your head until your best friend jolted you back into reality with a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

“Are you even listening?” Seori’s voice cut through your thoughts, annoyed, since she had to explain what she was talking about in the first place.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” you blinked, focusing your attention on your best friend.

She sighs, “I was saying that I think Doyoung is going to ask me out.” Seori pouts “Why does he not get that I don’t like him that way, jeez.”

Her ramble about her current boy toy washed out in the background. You were once back in your thoughts until you saw him heading into the cafeteria. Beomgyu entered the cafeteria, his smile widening at something his best friend said. 

Lee Heeseung, Beomgyu’s best friend. His ride or die. As long as you can remember, they were attached to the hip. They were basically the package deal. If Beomgyu was the life of the party, Heeseung would hold up his hair while he threw up in the host’s toilet. While Beomgyu was the exact depiction of a social butterfly, Heeseung remained aloof, keeping people at arm’s length. You could only wonder how he dealt with Beomgyu’s outbursting personality.

“Earth to Y/n!” Seori snapped her fingers in front of your face which once again, brought you back to reality.

“Sorry.” you sheepishly smiled looking at your best friend's annoyed face. Your friend followed the gaze you had fixed before looking over to her. And her eyes followed the trail of your alleged ‘man’–– Beomgyu.

“Him again.” a sigh erupted from Soeri, having enough of your rambling over your four-year-old crush.

“I’m sorry, alright!” you pouted, your back hunching over the disappointing development between you two which was nowhere to be found. “He’s just so cute, God!”

Your sigh was followed by your best friend. Not long after, your best friend’s fed-up expression converted into a rather eager one.

“I got it!” she exclaimed, her hand hitting your back while she practically screamed. You winced in pain as a few fellow students gave you judgemental stares.

“All you have to do is be close with his best friend, Lee Heeseung.” she slowly said, almost like a mastermind coming up with a villainous plan–well, you would consider your best friend to be some sort of evil criminal.

But this, this opened new angles in your head. It felt like the universe–or more like your best friend–laid it out for you again. Your once unsolvable puzzle showed a new direction, and the missing piece was all in front of you. 

Okay, maybe you felt bad that you were going to use Heeseung like that, even looking forward to it. But, you were really desperate. To the point where you would actually be eager to attend Sunday mass just to ask God for Beomgyu to like you back or even spare one glance at you. Well, what could you do? 

Out of excitement, you pulled Seori in for a hug with a squeal while giving her a kiss on the cheek which she in return, yelped. “Seori, you’re a genius!”

“Yes, I know.” she laughed a bit, escaping your tight grip on her before wiping the spot you kissed her hastily with her hands.

“I mean, how hard could it be?” 

You smiled and your gaze went up to the boy you loved for most of your life, then slowly to the equally handsome boy next to him.

Jackpot.

“God you’re such a pain to be friends with!” Beomgyu scoffed with a smirk underlying in his face, his hands in his pocket.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Well, you totally ignored that girl’s attempts to hit on you.” Beomgyu said, replaying the past moment that happened five minutes ago.

“Well, she was a nerd.” Heeseung shrugged, “Not exactly my type.” the boy said as they continued walking.

Beomgyu could only sneer at the hypocritic words coming out of his best friend’s mouth, “What do you think you are?”

Heeseung stopped in his tracks, taking great offence to the oh so harsh words said by Beomgyu, “Dude.”

Beomgyu in return, slightly chuckled at his ‘hurt’ face.

“Only kidding.” he said while they continued to walk to their next class, Beomgyu slightly bumping into Heeseung as a form of apology.

“You’re lucky I’m your best friend.” Beomgyu boasted. “Or you would be off with your little nerd antics.” he continued to tease the poor boy, loving the slight reactions his best friend gave.

“Honestly, what would you do without me?” he asked, giving a pat to Heeseung’s back which hurt too much for his liking.

They continued to stroll down the corridor, continuing the conversation with bits of banter here and there.

Beomgyu and Heeseung were basically peanut butter and jelly –– they just clicked. Every time you saw or thought about Beomgyu, his other part of him was always there. But they were practically the opposite of each other. You would stay up late at night during your daily night sessions of thinking about Beomgyu where you would wonder how in the world they became friends. 

Heeseung on one hand was the most isolated person you’ve ever seen. His only friend was Beomgyu. You would only see him have a handful of acquaintances with his daily visits in the broadcasting club he was in. 

Now Beomgyu was everything but isolative. He was the star of the school. Which meant he had a shit ton of friends. He was always the centre of attention. With his contagious laughter and a knack for mischief, he perfectly complemented Heeseung’s calm demeanour. 

Heeseung felt like he was saved when Beomgyu walked in his life. No longer was he the lonely boy who sat alone in the cafeteria because they thought he was a weirdo or whatever. No longer was he the last to be picked for basketball in recess. He finally had a friend.

It was a bond that was made by the silliest circumstances. Heeseung still remembered it like it was yesterday. The day Beomgyu became his knight in shining armour. Back when Heeseung was five or six, he was troubled by the local elementary bullies he had to face every day at school. So he felt even more frustrated when he found himself stuck in a situation where he met his bully outside of school, in a park. 

While almost being suffocated as he was being grabbed by the collar, a similar aged boy kicked his left buttock from the side so he would fall. It was a silly move, yes. A bit of screaming and newly learnt cuss words came out of the bully’s mouth and a few threats made Beomgyu scared out of his ass.

He was a pussy in the first place. He always was. So this took him a lot of courage because he had to point out the wrong and fight for justice, or so his favourite superhero at the time said. So naturally after putting on a tough facade, it quickly crumbled when the bully was about to throw a punch which made Beomgyu grab Heeseung’s hand and run. 

To this day, nothing really changed. Heeseung is still the same shy, quiet kid he was and Beomgyu was still a pussy who acts before he thinks. And together they were the perfect match for each other. 

You walked through the bustling hallways, barely managing to make it out alive with the sweaty teens packed inside, chattering away. As usual, it was always packed the minute the annoying school bell rang. You held onto the strawberry flavoured juice box you bought earlier as a gift for Heeseung so he knows that you come with good intentions –– kind of.

At the end of the corridor you made it to the broadcasting room. You felt a bit nervous, contemplating whether to do this or not. But you couldn’t back out now. This was your last shot at getting close to Beomgyu. Obviously you couldn’t.

You entered the meeting room with a nervous smile to see the faces of familiar people you saw in this school. The room looked cosy. There was obviously the recording studio across the room with a glass panel to see what was happening. A table in the middle, shelves with the older recordings of the morning announcements done by the seniors of the school, some bean bags here and there and a sofa at the end of the room. But what caught your eye the most was the little cork board hanging on one of the walls. It was decorated by a handful of polaroids of the broadcasting club.

At the corner of your eye, you saw one picture which relieved you a bit; a picture of Heeseung smiling as widely as he can. The picture brought a sense of happiness and removed the uneasy feeling you had in your stomach. He actually had feelings and wasn't a statue all the time.

Your thoughts were broken by the president of the club, Soobin. “Hi, you must be Y/n, yeah?” 

To your eye level, you could only see his chest, so you had to look up to the sun to see his face. Jeez, was he tall. “Hi, yes I am. I came to join the club.” You spoke up nervously.

“Great! Welcome to the club, we’re happy to have you here.” Soobin warmly smiled, looking back at his members, prompting them to welcome, which earnt a cheery ‘hello’ from everyone except for the boy sitting at the end of the table, secretly rolling his eyes which you clearly noticed.

You didn’t know why he was like this with you. What did you do wrong? Well, technically you were about to do something wrong, considering the entire reason you joined the club was to use Heeseung as your own little puppet to get close with Beomgyu.

You sat on the only seat available, which was next to Karina. She greeted you with a comforting smile. A few minutes into the meeting and you already like you belong here even though you didn’t know jackshit about broadcasting or the fact that you would be scared out of your mind to do the morning announcements.

But aside from that, you felt like you had a good time. Except one thing was bugging you. The most important thing you came for. Heeseung. He converted and engaged in the conversation but had kept a distance with you. You, who didn’t do anything to him at all. More than you were hurt, you were confused. Trying to remember what you had done in the past to upset Heeseung, but none came to mind.

Every time you had given out a suggestion, everyone agreed except for him. He kept quiet when you opened your mouth. The uneasy feeling was eating you away so you leaned over to Karina. 

“Is he always like this?” you asked her, your head discreetly pointing at Heeseung.

Karina followed your gaze and looked over to Heeseung, “Like what?” she looked over back to you, confused.

You hesitated for a second before spilling out the words, “Is he always this… cold?” 

Karina chuckled softly, “Yes, but he’s sweet. He’ll take some time to warm up to you.” She reassured you, putting her hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

This somewhat settled the uneasy feeling that roamed around your body. You engaged yourself back into the conversation the meeting currently had. And before you knew it, the meeting ended and the members bid Goodbye to each other, not forgetting about you. 

Heeseung was quick to leave the club, simply waving to the people present in the club, looking past you with no emotion on his face. You felt like banging your head on the wall. What the heck did you do for him to hate you already? One look at you and he already despised you. Shit, were you that ugly? You touched your face, thinking if you looked unpresentable, but that didn’t make sense. You looked fairly average and well there seemed to be nothing wrong with you.

Shit. 

Did he find out about your plan already? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Thousands of thoughts roamed around your head, each laced with panic. It couldn’t be. You hadn’t told anybody else about the plan you came up with. If he did find out, he had every right to be mad at you. You were basically using him as your puppet to get closer to Beomgyu. A slow wave of guilt was creeping over you. You cleared your throat and you bid the members that were getting ready to leave, not letting the guilt get to you. You followed Heeseung out the door and down the stairs.

You saw him walking down the stairs, his bag draped over his shoulder.

“Heeseung! Wait!” you said, rushing down the stairs. 

He turned around to see you rushing down to meet him, “Hi, um… I thought you might like this.” you said, nervously as you handed the juice box over to him.

He took it and his gaze faltered down the drink in his hand. The next thing he did was one you never expected. He scoffed. He actually scoffed. Was something funny? You didn’t get it because if there was something, you’d be the first one to laugh because you did not let any joke pass over your head. You were confused. Was he… laughing at you? 

You were the first to speak, “Did I do something wrong?”

“I’m not thirsty.” he said, looking at you. His gaze made your knees tremble. What the hell was his problem?

He handed you back the drink, but it was the least of your concerns. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday.” you said, your voice suddenly sounding dull, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

As you passed him you heard him mutter, “You shouldn’t”

“What?” you turned back. “I don’t get what I did?”

“I just… Why’d you even join?” he turned his body and looked at you.

“I felt like it. That shouldn’t be a problem to you.” you sternly said, not caring if it came off as ‘rude’ anymore.

“It would. You’d be bored after three months and leave.” you had the strongest urge to slap him in the face. You? Bored? Like hell you were going to be. Not when you can already foresee the future where he’s going to give you one hell of a nightmare. 

“And then Soobin would have to hand over whatever comprehensible duty he gave over to you and put that on our backs.” 

You were more so shocked by his choice of words rather than angry. And currently, you wanted to pour the juice box you had in your hand over his head.

“Well I won’t, So don’t hold your breath.” your nails pricked into the cardboard of the juice box you held, trying your hardest not to twitch your face or furrow your eyebrows.

He scoffed with a stupid smirk plastered on his face, shaking his head. Putting his hands into the pockets stitched to his trousers, he walked away from you. 

“You're just like the others.”

Heeseung walked away leaving you feeling annoyed as well as frustrated. He was a complete jerk! The reassuring words Karina said to you before was no use now. You were sure he didn’t act like this when he first met the broadcasting members. So why was it only to you? But you decided it’s not worth caring anymore. He was just another obstacle in your path to making Beomgyu like you back. So you put aside your hurt feelings and straightened your back with one thing in mind; you were going to make that bastard like you.

Which is what you exactly planned on doing, standing in front of the wooden door, outside the broadcasting room again once again. 

You swallowed the big knot that rested in your throat and opened the door. To your surprise you saw Heeseung sitting on of the chairs, headphones plastered in while his fingers flipped over the pages of a comic he was reading while bopping his head to the rhythm of whatever geeky music that played through his headphones.

Maybe he didn’t hear the door creaking open or maybe he wasn’t bothered to look at you, but either way you went and sat in front of him, clearing your throat to make him look up from the comic his eyes were glued to.

You didn’t know if it was the awkward tension in the room or you dreading to ‘apologise’ to the boy in front of you, but the moment his gaze fixated on you, your heart started beating twice as fast. Maybe it was how pretty his eyes looked with his bangs covering most part of it or how he resembled an innocent bambi–

“Can I help you?” He spoke up, interrupting your thoughts about him.

“I just wanted to apologise for yesterday, I wasn’t meaning to be on edge, but I was kinda nervous with meeting new people and you ofcourse! Not that I mean it in a bad way, I don’t think you’re bad or anything I was just–” 

And then you realised that you were rambling.

In front of Lee Heeseung.

“I was just nervous.” And with that, you ended your lengthy sentence in a mutter.

You waited for Heeseung to look at you, waiting for his response and all you got was a quick sigh before he hummed.

Sorry, were you boring him?

But you did not have time to react as the door busted open with the tall president walking in, followed by Karina, Rei and Jungwon.

“Sorry guys, Lia and Taehyun got caught up with stuco meetings, but Karina will catch them up on everything.” He said, as he looked over to Karina, gaining a quick nod from her.

Everyone sat around the table as Soobin took his bulky notebook from his humongous bag that looked like it was filled with rocks. Jeez does this guy have a lot going on.

The meeting started where everyone started conversing and immersing themselves into the topics that the agenda listed. You even made a few suggestions that made the tall president smile at your already hard working attitude.

Which made you smile.

Which made Heeseung scoff.

It wasn’t a loud one, but you could definitely hear it from miles away. And even after you apologised! It made no sense, whatsoever. 

You stopped focusing on the topic at hand and looked over to Heeseung, comfortably sitting on the chair with his legs spread and his arms crossed. Oh wow.

No. You couldn’t get carried away from his figure, or whatever his arms were doing to you right now. You were supposed to hate him, right? And right now, you were just kissing his ass, which is what you’re so good at — namely, your best friend pointing that out whenever you went to milk out marks of your biology paper from Mrs. Min.

Of course you didn’t mean any of the words that flew out of your mouth when you were doing your so-called apology. It wasn’t even your fault! He was the one acting like a jerk! Not you!

But deep under all this anger and your prejudice against him, you had the horrible feeling that he knew why you were here, sitting in an uncomfortable chair with the members of the broadcasting club. 

And the truth was, he did know. He knew all about your little antics. He’s not stupid. And he’s not oblivious to see those raging eyes under that sort of cute but fake smile! In all these years of you attending this school against your will, you never spared one look at Heeseung. Your eyes were always and only on Beomgyu. So now why are you trying to befriend him? The one who was always in Beomgyu’s shadow?

Because like everyone else, you liked Beomgyu and your gateway was Heeseung. And it doesn’t take much to put two and two together, because it was the perfect plan that was all laid out. 

“So everyone is onboard with having a bake sale for the game?” Soobin asked, just to double check with everyone.

He in turn received nods and yeses from the members and brought you back into reality, stopping you from thinking about Heeseung’s cold manners anymore. 

You quickly nodded your head as well, putting your lips into a line. 

“Karina, me, Jungwon and Rei can bake the goods, yeah?” He asked for the members’ approval in which they agreed.

“Then,” He looked down at his notebook and scribbled some writings over it and looked up again, “Heeseung and Y/n would be selling them.” Soobin looked at you and Heeseung. “Lia and Taehyun can pop into help from time to time if that’s alright.”

Did you hear that right?

Your name and … Heeseung!

You tried not to show how your eyes were practically gleaming as you eagerly nodded. Meanwhile, Heeseung was not having it. He sighed like he had just been drafted into war, but nevertheless nodded his head as well, just more slowly compared to yours.

But, this opened new opportunities for you and new doors and each of them ending with Beomgyu, your beloved. You just had to crack through Heeseung first.

It was one of those nights where you had nothing going on in your life. You called Seori, but she was busy getting ready for Yeonjun’s party which well — you were invited to go, but didn’t because you were too lazy to get up and get ready.

So you found yourself here, in the comic store your uncle owned, slurping on some instant noodles and reading the latest version of Fuller House. You weren’t going to lie, you liked it. You were just sitting on the owner's chair with your bowl filled with noodles on the table and other stuff which were related to the store such as records of the borrowed comics. You bopped your head to the song that the little radio beside you played— ‘Candy’ by H.O.T.

The door to the comic store opened as you heard the bell hanging on it ring. Surely you weren’t bothered to look since the scene you were reading was far too interesting and Ryder was far too handsome to take your eyes off him!

“Welcome, please feel free to look around and pick up any of the comics you like. If you’re looking for something specific, let me know.” Although it was supposed to sound enthusiastic, you put in your own twist making it sound like those automated recordings you hear on those phone calls.

You finally looked up to see who the man was when you were going to gobble a mouthful of the tasty ramen you had. You didn’t quite see the face of the mystery man that came to him as he was quick to look at the various comics displayed on the shelves in front of you, making his back face you. 

You saw him pick out a comic book with a cover that you couldn’t quite recognize even if you had registered over thousands of comics here. After squinting your eyes a bit, you realised he picked out ‘Demon Diary’. 

So he’s a nerd.

He turned sideways and to your surprise, it was the devil himself—Lee Heeseung.

“Heeseung?” You said, rather loud.

Due to your shock and his name being yelled in the store, he dropped the comic and looked at you, startled—even going as far as letting out a cuss word.

“Hey man, keep it PG13.” You giggled, seeing his shocked figure, in which he rolled his eyes. “My Uncle’s at the back.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, still shocked, because you were the last person he wanted to meet right now.

“Me? I work here.” You smirked, “What are you doing here?”

“I mean, I've never seen you rent books from here.” You added on.

“I was…just searching.”

“Right.” You said, smiling. 

Why is this nerd so awkward?

“You dropped the book, you know?” You said, looking at the fallen book on the ground.

“Right, sorry.” He muttered, rushing to keep the book back on the shelf which resulted in more books falling due to his clumsy demeanour. 

“Fuck.” Luckily, he caught them just in time and looked at you with the same cold glare he did earlier, but just a bit more awkward and maybe, embarrassed? 

And just like that he left, rushing out the door. 

He didn’t even say bye. 

How rude. 

From that day onwards, he felt more awkward around you. You just didn’t know why. Everytime it was your turn in the roster to announce the morning announcements in the broadcasting room, he had nothing but an emotionless expression and a thumbs up when recording it while you sat in the studio. The other days felt even weirder as you tried to talk to him, but he was quick to go in the other direction. Your head thinks that he avoided you out of embarrassment, but it still left an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“He’s just so weird!” You said to your best friend while plopping onto your bed.

She was currently sitting on your vanity with a bunch of makeup brushes spread around the table and countless amounts of eyeshadow palettes opened. Apparently, she was practising to ‘enhance’ her looks to impress her new boytoy—Sunghoon.

One of the players on the football team alongside your Beomgyu.

Seori just hummed along to your rambles about Heeseung. Well she did care, but God how long can a person hear her best friends rant about the same guy for over an hour.

“And you know what he did?” You abruptly said, sitting up from your bed, “He just went! Without even apologising!”

“For what?” Seori asked, looking at you through the reflection in your vanity mirror with furrowed eyebrows.

“For his bitchy attitude.” You just had the urge to roll your eyes to the back of your head with the way Heeseung had been acting.

“Oh, only if I could punch him in the face.” You sighed.

“Just leave it Y/n. And I mean this whole thing. It took you what–so many months for your plan to talk to this Beomgyu boy and now what? All you’ve gotten is nowhere. Just move on, babe.” She said, while leaning into the mirror to apply her mascara. 

“Seori, Beomgyu is not just some boy. And actually, it’s taken me only weeks for this Heeseung plan. He’s just cold. That’s it. Karina said that he takes time to warm up to people so I think if I get past this stage I could really be friends with him.” You justified your plan, which Seori might call you a bit (a lot) delusional for.

“Alright, Y/n.” Seori sighed, “Whatever you say.” She turned around to look at you.

“I’m just saying, be careful.” Seori said, concern laced on her expressions, “Things don't always go the way you want it to. Just go with the flow.” She smiled.

“Wow, when did you take philosophy classes?” You said, having an amazed expression for sarcasm.

She rolled her eyes as she took out her eyeliner on the table, “Now, come here. You know you do my eyeliner the best.” She said, smiling.

You rolled your eyes playfully and stood up to go towards your best friend, taking the eyeliner from her hands and starting to carefully draw lines at the bottom of her eyelid.

Your best friend was practically the opposite of you. While she finds a new man every week, you’ve been hung over the same guy for the past four years. But having her here and listening to all your rants about him and his rude (but cute) best friend is something that you wouldn’t trade for the world.

As tomorrow was the big day for the game, you were determined to win Heeseung’s friendship as a way to Beomgyu’s heart.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the day you anticipated the most arrived. You looked at yourself in the vanity mirror and tightened your slicked back pigtails tired by hair ties with small bows on them. 

You were determined to somehow crack that little arrogant bastard—Mr. Lee Heeseung.

So you packed everything you needed and headed to the stadium which you found out was filled with hundreds of teenagers and teachers patrolling the stadium, looking like they had been tasked with finding the cure to cancer.

Oh was it a sight to see. You could smell the freshly watered grass and hear loud chatters of people conversing with each other—some even yelling. A sweet melody flowed into your eyes through the humongous speakers situated around the stadium. You were going to love today.

You quickly tried to find Seori and lo and behold, there she was, situated in between Sunghoon’s arms as Sunghoon whispered into Seori’s ear and her later laughing like it was the funniest thing that was ever said.

You ran up to them, waving Seori and Sunghoon as well—although you’ve never even spoken to him.

“Ah, my girl is here.” She squealed as she broke free from Sunghoon’s grasp and hugged you tightly.

You awkwardly hugged Seori back, trying to catch your breath from her tight grip while saying hello to Sunghoon who was smiling at the scene.

“You look adorable.” Seori mumbled to your ear, “So adorable that Beomgyu might fall for you the moment he sees you.”

You couldn't help but slap on a big smile after your best friend said that. “You think so?” You asked, touching one of your pigtails in which she nodded in return.

Sunghoon on the other hand was called out by Jake, his friend and teammate, “Babe—I mean, Seori, I have to go. Coach is asking for us to meet at the locker room.”

“Oh right.” Seori giggled as she quickly kissed Sunghoon on the cheek and waved him ‘Goodbye’ after saying that she’ll cheer him on.

Cuties.

Except that could be Beomgyu and you right now, but the universe apparently hated you.

“So, new boyfriend?” You wiggled your eyes at the blushing girl in front of you.

“No!” She exclaimed, “We just, I don’t know.” Seori mumbled.

“Well, if you want him; you need to date him, fast!” You warned Seori, “I just saw him with Wonyoung not long ago. And I don’t know, she looks like she really likes him.” You said.

“What?!” She yelled.

“Don’t worry,” You laughed at her furious, but cute expression, “With the way you kissed him he looks like he’s a goner.”

“Heeseung looks it too.”

“What?” You spaced out.

Why is his name being mentioned?

Suddenly all the emotion in your face drained away, like you couldn’t give two fucks about the boy that had it against you.

“He looked like he was two seconds away from a heart attack when he looked at you.”

“What? You saw him?” You questioned, looking around to find the rude boy.

“Yes, you know the bakesale is like the opposite of where we’re standing right?” She lowered her head asking for confirmation.

“Oh.”

Does he think I’m pretty?

But then you remember what Seori said. The bake sale.

“Oh shit, I have to go.” You abruptly said.

You and Seori parted ways after saying ‘Goodbye’ and you headed to the bakesale with a man standing behind the table of baked goodies.

Heeseung was preparing the goods as he aligned them perfectly, keeping the doughnuts next to the brownies and so on.

You soon caught on and went behind the table to do what he was doing.

“That’s new.” He mumbled.

You were shocked that he even talked to you.

But, hey. At Least he made your plan a bit easier.

“What is?” You asked in confusion.

“Your hair.” He said, not even sparing one look at you and keeping his focus on taking out the baked goods out of the trays next to him.

“Yeah, I tried something different today.” You smiled, thankful that he noticed your hairstyle.

“You look like a dork.” He simply said, as he went away taking the empty trays to wherever he was off to.

That bitch.

So he doesn’t think I’m cute?!

Your mouth was left open as you processed what he said. 

As if he looks good.

Well, he does.

But that’s not the point!

Your eyebrows furrowed as you let out a huff, leaving a pout on your face. You didn’t let his stupid comment affect your whole mood so you just continued with doing your tasks as his words went to the back of your head.

Heeseung and you continued to sell various types of cakes and other baked goods while you took a little bite from one of the chocolate doughnuts that was eyeing you the entire time. And you swore, you could see Heeseung subtly smiling at your cute actions from the corner of your eye. 

Soon after, the bakesale was long forgotten as everyone focused on the game and the star of the team, Choi Beomgyu. He skillfully passed the members of the opposing team with the ball tangled around his feet. The team needed one more goal to win the entire thing and time was not on their side.

Beomgyu had two minutes left on the clock to somehow magically kick the football into the goal. And just before you knew it, the crowd went crazy, screaming for their new champion—Choi Beomgyu.

He successfully saved the entire team by winning in the last moment and you adored the way his proud smile never left his handsome face even once. 

Heeseung beside you was cheering for his best friend when he won. You couldn’t help but smile at his excited expression which was a rare sight to see.  He soon ran to Beomgyu and hugged him as he praised the ace of the team. Soon chants of Beomgyu’s name echoed throughout the stadium.

Ah, were you proud of your future boyfriend. 

Maybe this was your chance. A chance to finally talk to him. Since no one was at the stall as they were all focused on the ace in the middle of the stadium that was sitting on someone's neck as people chanted his name, you thought to bring him a bottle of water. Maybe even compliment his football skills (even if you didn’t know shit about football).

You took an unopened water bottle from one of the boxes and when you looked at the stadium again, the crowd seemed to move. Fuck, you couldn’t lose him!

You started searching as people started to leave the stadium while some were idling around the benches taking pictures with their Fotoman cameras. The crowd was still very much alive, just the reason for it was missing. Could he have disappeared that fast?

You scanned the grounds one last time and at the corner of your eye, you saw a pathway which led to the boys’ locker room. Well, you had to do what you had to do.

So now, you were standing in the middle of the empty boys locker room with a little water bottle in your hand and the desperation pouring through your eyes to find the star of the day. 

But lo and behold, you found his trusty sidekick. And you wanted to laugh, because of the shriek he just let out which led you to think that this was a bit familiar to the situation you were in a few days ago. 

“What the hell are you doing in here? You perv!” He whispered, shouted and looked around and back at you with a glare shooting right at you.

“Hey! I’m not a perv! I was just looking for Beomgyu to give him some water–” But before you could finish your speech, Beomgyu and a group of guys were heard coming into the locker room which obviously you couldn't hear as you were too busy defending yourself.

“What! Hey! What are you doing?” You almost shouted as Heeseung pulled you into one of the showers and covered your mouth with his somewhat sweaty palms. 

And now, it was just you pressed against Heeseung's chest as his hand involuntarily found his way to your waist to create more space in this uncomfortably tiny shower that could clearly fit only one person.

“Who’s the perv now?” You whispered to yourself, looking away from him, but also internally freaking out that he was so close to you.

Maybe if you were some other girl like Minji from fourth period who could not stop rambling on about Heeseung or maybe the lunch lady that always looked at him with a smile and gave him extra chicken, you would be a puddle.

But you’re not, or so you think that way. Yet you couldn’t deny the quickened beats of your heart which you hoped that Heeseung couldn’t hear given that your chest was literally against his. 

You heard Beomgyu outside talking with some other players in his team about the match which made you smile. But you swore that you could see Heeseung rolling his eyes at your expression which honestly you couldn't care less, but to give him a quick punishment, you thought it would be fun to pinch his stomach where your hand was currently pressed against.

Seeing his shushed pained expression and his glare at you only made you smirk even more, but your little feud was quickly sent away as Beomgyu’s ongoing conversation got you distracted. 

“You should’ve seen the girls!” One of the football players said, “God, they were so hot! I almost missed a shot because of them!” He drooled.

Gross.

“Yeah, especially that Seori girl.” The other boy said.

Seori? As in my ‘Yoon Seori’? My best friend?

“Fuck, she was hot.” Beomgyu spoke up.

And at that instant, all the colour on your face drained away. You knew most boys always had a weird way of talking about girls, but you never expected your best friend’s name to be passed around like this, especially by your crush. Your pout only increased when you heard them talk even further and you felt a lump in your throat. This cannot be happening.

“Yeah, but isn’t she with Park Sunghoon? I saw them kissing and shit.” 

“Awh fuck me, I was going to ask her out.” Beomgyu half heartedly laughed at his missed chance.

So he knew who you were—given that you were always with Seori—and he was going to ask her out and not you.

Ouch.

You inhaled slowly, trying to not let your tears fall out as you forgot about the male that was beside you who was watching every expression that came out of your face. 

Heeseung didn’t know why, but he didn’t like seeing your face all sad and mushy. Every time he saw you, you were always giggly or mad at him or trying to put on a fake smile just to get closer to him. But he’s never seen this. And he did not like it, even though he didn’t know why. 

And without thinking, he pulled you closer to him.

Hugging you tight.

You were more shocked than sad as you looked at him. You let out a gasp as he held you tight against his chest and your heart skipped around four or five beats. He wasn’t looking at you though. In fact, he looked at anything else or than you, since all of a sudden, the soap that was lying on the soap dish looked very interesting. 

He looked very, very red––from the tip of his forehead to the bits of his neck that was covered by his t-shirt, he was red. His pointy ears that were peaking out were red, his cheeks were tinted with a rosy colour and you couldn’t miss out on how his adams apple bobbed as he took the biggest gulp ever!

But, why did you like it?

You shouldn’t.

You liked the man who was outside the shower.

Wait, is this his way of trying to comfort me?

That’s actually kinda swee—”Guys! Come outside! Coach wants to take photos!” One of the members that barged into the locker room yelled before all the soccer players scurried away and went outside the room and onto the stadium.

You could finally let out the breath you were holding in. But Heeseung already shoved you aside and threw himself outside the shower. 

You still couldn’t speak of what just happened, but Heeseung was quick to fill in the gap of silence.

“We sold enough stuff today, right?” He said, rubbing his pants against his jeans as he looked anywhere but you.

You blinked out of your dazed zone and looked at the nervous boy, “I think s—”

“Great! Okay, I’ll go and start cleaning up.” He said, as he interrupted you before leaving the room.

What just happened?

You should probably tell Seori.

She deserves to know, right?

“Y/n, what’s that big head of yours thinking?” Seori pouted as she put her arm around your shoulder.

Damn, she saw right through you.

You honestly didn’t know what you were thinking or who you were thinking of. When you paint a picture you see Beomgyu and his pretty locks of hair falling right in front of his eyes, his boyish smile and spark in his eyes

But

Next to him, you saw Heeseung.

Heeseung who has his forehead shown and his stupid locks which parted it, that stupid twinkle in his eyes which you wish you could gauge out and his slight smile forcibly lighting up that spark in you

Now you were stuck, stuck in between two of these boys. You definitely liked Beomgyu! Right? That’s what you keep repeating in your head, but the lines slowly blur as Heeseung’s name enters your head which makes you go into a spiral.

“Y/n?” 

“Hm?” You snap out of your thoughts and look at your best friend with the eyes that resembled a lost bambi. 

“You okay?” She asked, with genuine concern.

“Yeah, sorry.” You laughed it off, “I’m just tired from that soccer match.” 

“Right.” She dragged the word while looking at you suspiciously. 

“I’m fine Seori, I mean you would be too after selling around a hundred cupcakes.” You laughed, trying to change the topic.

But lo and behold, the universe was against you once again because as soon as you finished talking, you saw the boy that you were stuck in the showers with yesterday.

The pace of the students walking through the halls seemed to slow down. Everything else felt blurry except for him, the boy that hugged you tight yesterday. The usual hustle slowly faded into the background, leaving the world feeling slightly out of focus—at least to you. To your surprise, he looked even more handsome than he did yesterday. Wait, was he glowing?! Your mouth was agape as you intently fixed your gaze on him.

“Y/n! Snap out of it!” Your best friend brings your focus back to where you were.

“Huh?” 

Seori’s gaze followed on where your eyes were previously set on and it ended on Heeseung’s stoic face. A series of ‘oh’s left her mouth as she looked at you, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I knew you would move on!” She squealed, locking her arms with yours.

Did you?

“Seori, I think you’re mistaken. I was just–” 

“Don’t lie, Y/n. I know that stare when I see it.” She fixed a teasing smile on her face.

“Seori, there’s nothing going on.”

You couldn’t deny the fact that Her words hit you hard. Have you really moved on from Beomgyu? Just a few seconds ago, you were thinking about him.Yet, you couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling of Heeseung lingering above your thoughts laced with Beomgyu. 

“You can’t deny that you weren't just drooling for Heeseung. Not Beomgyu.” 

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. "I don't know, Seori. It's...complicated."

Her eyebrows furrowed as a sign for you to elaborate, but you debated on whether telling what happened on the day of the soccer match and what you heard from Beomgyu.

“It’s just really complicated.” Was all you could say, “Don’t worry about it!” You forced your lips into a tight smile which in turn Seori let out a sigh and continued walking as you both tried shaking off the conversation you just had. 

Was it really though? You just may find Heeseung a tiny bit attractive after he allegedly hugged you tight in the showers—although not knowing it was intentional, you still very much like Beomgyu who wanted to ask your best friend out! Not that complicated, right? Maybe you found Heeseung a bit cute and maybe not much of a jerk like he showed you to be, especially when he hugged you, revealing he was more than just a cold facade. But what you couldn’t seem to ignore was how your heart flipped seeing his features in the crowd as his bambi eyes shone while his heart shaped lips formed into a pout as he talked with the other students.

Nonetheless, a little touching here and there and a confused bundle of feelings wasn’t going to derail your plan. You were determined to get this to work no matter what. And plus you were very loyal to your man. You think so.

That night, a suffocating silence forcefully clung to the air as Heeseung sat on the dinner table with his parents, the atmosphere always carrying a sense of thick tension whenever his parents were around. He sat next to his brother while his parents were seated across him, boring their eyes onto him with a stern look. With the silence they gave him, Heeseung felt a tight knot into his stomach that felt like it would burst any minute. 

The only sound that could be heard was the spoons and forks clanking against the dinner plates while the fan’s motor could be heard throughout the room. Although the smell of home cooked japchae filled the room, Heeseung hardly touched his food as he just poked his food with his fork. His father broke the awkward silence first,

As the silence of the man sitting in front of him spoke volumes, he was first to break the silence, “Son, how did the maths test you had last week go?” Heeseung’s father inquired while staring at him.

“I got a seventy.” 

Heeseung knew he fucked up. The young boy couldn’t help but shrink under his father’s scrutinising gaze. His cheeks held a hot shade of red as he looked at all the food scattered on his plate. He knew that what was about to come was another lecture from his father’s mouth and small scoldings from his mother as well.

“Seventy? Heeseung what have I told you?” His father’s voice grew stern.

“Honestly, what the absolute hell are you doing with your life? Last time it was an eighty, and I let it slip because maybe you weren’t doing well. But now I think you’re just lazy,” His father scoffed, “Why can’t you be more like your brother? Look, all his scores are above ninety and that’s all I ask from you.” He said, pointing at the younger boy sitting beside Heeseung with his fork.

Heeseung didn’t even bother looking at his brother, knowing all he could return was a guilty and pitiful face. Honestly, why couldn’t he be more like him?

“Stop spending time with those useless cameras of yours and actually focus on your studies!” Heeseung flinched at the sudden rise of voice from his father which he hated to admit that it affected him.

“They’re not just cameras, Dad,” Heeseung mumbled, gulping the dry knot stuck in his throat.

“What was that? Yeah right, as if cameras are going to help you excel in your studies,” He scoffed once again. “Maybe it’s that Beomgyu boy that you hang out so much with. That boy is nothing but a negative influence on you.” He spat.

And that was the first time where he finally looked his father in the eye now as Heeseung finally looked up from his plate and shot back the same nasty glare his father gave him, “Don’t call him that.”

“I see, now he’s more important to you than your own family. So what if I call him that, then what?” He provoked Heeseung.

Heeseung knew if he acted up, the consequences would be worse. He looked at his mother for any sign of help, but all she did was stare into her plate in fear of getting scolded by Heeseung’s father as well. Not being able to handle the situation anymore, Heeseung stood up from the dining table and left the house, not caring about the shouts that came from his father’s mouth.

The only thing that came out of your mouth was quiet snores. You were sleeping again after promising your mother you just needed a five minute nap afterschool which resulted in six hours of sleep, resulting in the time being seven pm now.

The door abruptly opened showing your older brother shouting at you trying to wake you up, “Y/n! Come on! Get up!”

“What the hell! What do you want?” You asked in a groggy voice, your eyes still closed.

“Go buy me some ramen.” He simply said.

If you had the power right now to strangle your brother to death, his soul would be on the stairway to hell right now.

“Fuck off!” You said as you hid yourself under your comfortable sheets.

Your brother in turn grabbed the sheets leaving you cold, “Go right now.” He said while throwing you some notes of money.

“Or what?” You provoked him, your hands rubbing against your arms to keep you warm.

“I’m telling everyone that a certain someone came home from school, crying because they wet their pants in eighth grade.” Your brother said in a sing-songy voice and a cheeky smile.

Your eyes shot open and you looked like you could kill him in five different ways. Because not only was he blackmailing you right now…but it was also in fact true.

Before you could chase him, he ran out the door, closing it shut after yelling what flavour of ramen he wanted.

“Ugh!” You growled at your peaceful sleep being interrupted by your annoying brother and his tasks.

You thought it was now a good time to wash your face and get rid of the way your bed was calling your name and looked more attractive than ever. Rolling your eyes, you wore your favourite red and white striped sweater and grabbed the money from your bed and left the house, flipping your brother on the way out.

You stepped on onto the chilly streets of Seoul and walked through the concrete roads to the nearest seven-eleven you could find. The walk wasn’t that long yet you felt like the sleep was getting to you from the way you felt already exhausted by the five minute walk. 

You walked into the store getting whatever ramen your brother liked and an ice cream for yourself to reward you for the hard work that you did now.

As you licked onto the vanilla flavoured ice cream, you were on your way back home while the chill breeze ran through your legs. Fuck, I shouldn’t have worn shorts.

And now that you think about it, you were only here because of your stupid older brother. With the amount of laziness he had in him, you had a hard time finding accepting the fact that the couch potato that’s probably sleeping in your bed got into a good university and actually has a life.

Oh how you could strangle your brother right now for his lazy bum. Only if you could have one day with him, he’d be scrambled eggs by now. Oh only if you coul— 

“Ouch!” You winced as you suddenly trip onto the ground, bruising your knee. Luckily, your ice cream was still intact, though its liquid melted onto your skin, dripping down your hands.

“The Gods hate me today!” You whined as you looked at your ankle in pain, “My poor knee.”

You looked up to find a place to at least sit so the pain would go off. To your surprise you found a nearby park which you used to visit all the time when you were a kid. You crossed the street and entered the park lit with rusty street lights. 

Wait a minute…

As you walked into the park, you saw a male figure sitting on one of the swings while  his back was hunched. 

That hoodie looks too familiar…

And then it clicked. That hoodie was the one Beomgyu wore when he went on one of the class trips. As much as it was a rare sight to see him attending these class trips instead of skipping them, you vividly remember it because that was one of the few times where you actually talked to him. 

So you slowly went towards the figure, acting like you didn’t know who he was just so you could sit on the swing next to him with the excuse of having hurt your knee.

As you slowly approached the male figure, you could kind of make out his face shape and then you realised that it wasn't Beomgyu at all.

“Heeseung?” 

You saw him flinch at the surprising sound and his eyes shot wide open to look at you, “What the hell? You scared me, woman.” He said, trying to calm down.

Much to your surprise, another one of your failed attempts.

Heeseung looked at the ice cream in one hand that was already melted and the ramen that was in your plastic bag in the other. His gaze then slowly went towards your bleeding knee. 

But you didn’t take his observation to note as you huffed while throwing your already melted ice cream into one of the garbage cans nearby and sitting down on the swing next to him, placing your plastic bag with a ramen packet inside on the ground, wiping your ice cream coated hands onto your sweater.

“What the hell did you do to your knee?” He inquired, a rough tone escaping from his mouth.

“I fell down.” You mumbled as you unconsciously pouted.

“And you’re not going to do anything about it?” He asked, amazed by the fact that you’re not bothered at your literal bleeding knee. 

“I don’t want to walk all the way back to get a stupid band aid.” You sighed, looking down.

Heeseung felt uneasy by the sight of your state where you looked like you gave up. He let out a sigh and probably a curse to what you could hear and got up, “Wait here.” He said as he left the park.

Your eyes looked up at the boy who slowly disappeared into the dark, wondering where he went. But you didn’t care anyways. Maybe Seori was right, you could never be able to get close to Beomgyu. Even the Gods are against it. Your pout came out even more as you thought about it even more. 

As you looked through the park, your childhood memories fluttered open as you remembered the numerous amount of times you played Hide and Seek with Seori or the endless amount of ways you managed to trip on the grass and form a new bruise somewhere where your mother always made a fuss about.

You sighed and glanced at your bleeding knee. You winced at the burning sensation it gave you and the sight of fresh blood splattered on your knee making you cringe as you had a trickling urge to wipe it all off from your sweater, but you knew better than that. You wondered if Heeseung would stick to his words and actually come back 

Just as the thought of the young boy entered your mind, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching you. You looked up to see Heeseung returning, holding a small first aid kit in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. A wave of relief washed over you as you released the breath that you didn’t realise that you had been holding.

Without saying another word, he got down on one knee and opened the first aid kit. He took the small piece of soft cotton and started to clean your wound. Next, he took some antibacterial cream and applied it onto your fresh wound.

A hiss came out of your mouth as your leg jerked away from his touch. He looked up with a stoic expression on his face, “Stay still.” He commanded.

Your pout quickly went away as his hand came into contact with your leg as he tried to hold it for a better grip, his touch being surprisingly gentle. You gulped as you looked away from the sight. He was being too kind for your liking. You were surprised that he didn’t walk away the moment he saw you.

After patching your wound up with a bandaid, he got up, taking the water bottle that was on the ground, and you looked up at him, searching for an answer as to why he did something that was so out of character for him.

“A thank you would be nice,” He scoffed but the confused look made him sort of understand what you were thinking, “I just... hate seeing blood.”

He gave you the water bottle. “You should be more careful, dork.”

You hesitantly took the water bottle from his hand and mumbled a thank you for the water bottle and disinfecting your wound from your clumsy fall earlier while he returned to his empty seat on the swing set. 

It had been a few moments since you both went back to silence and a few gulps from the water bottle Heeseung gave you for you to finally break the silence, “So why are you here?”

You turned your head around to face Heeseung who kept staring at the scenery of the park, “Needed some fresh air.”

“Mm, sometimes I need some too, but I go to the Han River. It’s more peaceful there,” you said, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Yeah, well, do I look like I can go there now?” Heeseung said, his voice sounding snarky and sharper than you expected.

You smiled sheepishly, understanding the given circumstances, “Right, sorry.”

Heeseung sighed, he could see your smile from the corner of his eyes. He looked down to his hands resting on his lap, “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… lash out on you like that.” He mumbled.

“I get it I guess… I guess we all have those days.” You said, turning back to view the comforting landscape in front of you. “I used to be worse. I once smacked my brother across the face because he breathed too loud.”

A snort surprisingly came out of Heeseung’s mouth. “Are you implying that smacking you might help?”

“Well not me! Violence does not help, but if it’s on my brother… then I’d disagree.” You giggled, remembering the memory of your brother sobbing to your mother with a red strike across his face.

A soft smile found its way on Heseung’s face and this was probably the first and few times you actually saw him smile. The problem was, you didn’t know why, but you liked it. A lot. And you wanted to keep doing whatever you could to keep that smile on his face.

Gosh! Get a grip, Y/n!

You both fell into a somewhat comfortable silence before you decided to change the subject again. “When I was a kid, I used to come to this park all the time,” you began speaking, your eyes wandering around the familiar surroundings of your memories spent here. “Seori and I would play hide and seek, and I’d always manage to trip over something and end up with a new bruise. My mom would make such a fuss about it.”

Heeseung intently listened. He found it comforting that he could just sit there and here you talk without finding it annoying. This surprised him, what was he doing? Wasn’t he supposed to hate you?

“Oh right there!” You pointed to one of the bushes, “I fell down on a bird’s nest there. I spent the entire ride home sobbing because I sat on some of the eggs and it.. broke.” You mumbled at the end, feeling embarrassed. “I couldn’t sleep that night so I went back the next day and made a birdhouse for that poor mama bird.” You said, a pout unconsciously showing up at your lips.

Even though you were currently going through your past memories and spilling your countless stories to Heeseung, all you could hear from him was silence. You started to wonder if you were talking too much, if maybe he wanted some peace and quiet. Just as you were about to apologise, your pager beeped loudly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You glanced at it and realised it was your brother. “Oh, shit. I need to get back,” you said, standing up and wincing at the pain in your knee. You picked up the plastic bag from the ground.

You looked back at Heeseung and awkwardly cleared your throat, wondering if you were on terms to bid each other Goodbye, but before you could form a sentence Heeseung beat you to it, “Open your eyes when you’re walking and don't fall again, dork.”

You playfully rolled your eyes realising he was back to his old Heeseung self and left the park, heading towards your home. As you limped back, you couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, you’d managed to make him feel a little better.

Heeseung watched you limp out of the park, a soft laugh escaping him at the sight of your awkward struggle. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you go. He felt a bit lighter, thanks to you, though he’d never admit that.

Waking up with a bruise was never a good way to start your morning. You took off the thick blanket that covered you. As you felt the dull ache on your knee, the unexpected meetup with Heeseung rushed back to your head when that was the reason why you tossed and turned at night, trying to get a wink of sleep. 

The thought of the boy never left your mind, wondering where you stood with Heeseung, hoping that yesterday may make Heeseung warm up to you, but a part of you wanted Heeseung  to keep you at arms distance for the fear of something you couldn’t quite grasp onto. 

But you settled on keeping Heeseung as a part of your plan and maybe even a friend after you start dating Beomgyu. Right?

Oh right, Beomgyu…

The chestnut haired boy raced back to your mind, strengthening your feelings for him. Though, you still didn’t know why the thought settled weirdly in your stomach. 

You brushed it off and started to get ready for school, you were determined that today would be the day that you get your pawn Heeseung to finally act according to your genius plan. 

After a quick shower and trying to make yourself decent for school, you headed out the door, slightly limping but still excited and a hundred percent sure that he would agree if you buttered up enough to him.

As hours passed, the day was going pretty well while you zoomed through the classes with ease. And now, you found yourself standing in that familiar spot, outside the broadcasting room, a few minutes before the usual meeting would start since you knew that Heeseung was always the first one to be there.

What a loser! 

A kinda cute one too maybe…

Wait! Fuck—

“Y/n?” A voice came from behind you, a familiar one.

“Hee–” You turned around to see the boy towering over you, the gap between you being very close.

You froze after seeing how close he was to you, “I-I was actually going to talk to you– you’re here?”

“Guess you beat me to it.” He said, taking his hand out of his pocket and turning the knob on the door resting next to you, his side view being very clear to you.

Shit.

He opened the door and you silently thanked yourself that you weren't leaning against it and quickly scooted to the side to give him some space to walk through the room. He took his seat at the very end of the room— his usual seat. You walked in slowly, closed the door behind you, and took a seat in the chair across from him.

“I was going to say–”

“Can I ask you something?” He spoke up.

His sudden question caught you off guard, “Ye–yeah go ahead.”

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his peculiar question, your head tilting to the side in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you trying to be friends with me?”

“Oh.” An odd silence formed between you two. “I just wanted to–”

“You never even looked at me before, so why join the broadcasting club, talk to me, try to get close to me? I just want to know why notice me now?”

You contemplated on saying that it had something to do with a boy named Beomgyu but you swallowed that response down your throat, knowing how’d his future response look like. Your sudden confidence at the beginning of your day faltered, making it shred into tiny little pieces. All you could do was open your mouth a bit and gulp nervously then look down at your hands resting on your lap.

Heeseung noticed your sudden nervous behaviour so all his thoughts came out into one statement, “You like him.”

Your eyes widened and looked straight at him. 

So he knew.

Heeseung only scoffed, the pieces of your plan finally laying out perfectly to him, “And you're trying to get close to me so you can what? Talk to him?” 

All you could do was look down and nod slightly. Was it that obvious?

Another scoff could be heard from Heeseung as he stood up from his chair, clearly not wanting to be near you.

You stood up, “Heeseung, wait!” He stopped in his tracks, yet his back was still facing you.

“I have liked Beomgyu before I could even process what the word like had really meant. And gosh, I tried everything in the book and heck everything I could do to even get close to him. Nothing worked! Please just— this is my last hope as silly as it sounds, but I’m really desperate here. Just help me out a bit, because I don't think I can sleep at night knowing I didn’t try. I swear i’ll even stop talking to you if he rejects me–”

“You talk a lot.” He finally turned around to face you, “But that little monologue of yours got you nowhere.”

You walked towards him, knowing this literally could be your one last shot at this plan. “Heeseung…”

But something struck you as if a bulb just lit up in your head.

Gotcha!

“You know, you’d really hate it if you found out what happened in 'Demon Diary' without reading it, right?” You said, sneakily coming up to him.

“Right..” He said hesitantly, not sure what trick you had up your sleeve.

“If you were to help me, then you’d have the pleasure of reading it without spoilers like Raenef being the next demon lo–” As you were about to finish, his hand came in contact with your mouth to shut you up.

Your eyes widened again and your heart rate fastened for nth time. He was so close to you, his hand feeling warm against your skin. Nothing was to be heard from the both of you until Heeseung realised how close you both were which made him gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

He slowly lowered his hand and took it off your mouth, “I want volume one.”

“Deal.”

One thing you've known about Heeseung was that he loved working with cameras. From school events to casual hangouts, he always had his camera hanging around his neck, clicking a picture of anything that piqued his interest. 

So of course, he was assigned by the broadcasting club to take the pictures of students on this field trip to see the flowers at the Musimcheon Cherry Blossom Festival and sent the new girl—aka you—to assist him, which you happily obliged. 

On the way to the field while you were in the bus, you took out your essentials to hopefully butter him up; banana milk. It always does the trick when you want something, and to your luck it was his favourite drink too!

“Woah! Is that for me?” Seori who was seated next to you pouted, trying to take the banana milk out of your hand, but you were quick to swat her hand away.

“No! It’s for Heeseung.” You mumbled with a pout.

“Oh! I get it now.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you in a teasing manner not knowing you wanted to rip them out.

“Stop! It’s not like that,” You said with furrowed eyebrows trying to defend yourself, “It’s so I can kiss ass and get close with Beomgyu!”

“No way L/n Y/n just said that.” She said with a breathy laugh. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” You said, stretching your arms a bit with a smile on your face.

Seori rolled her eyes at your justification, “Oh by the way, you still with your boy toy?” You snickered while elbowing Seori.

“He’s not my boy toy! It’s just complicated.” She muttered, shyly.

“Hmm, isn’t that what you said for Jaeyun, Minhyun, Sojun and—”

“Oh my gosh stop! You’re making me look like a player!” She whined, hitting you on the side, “I’m actually serious about Sunghoon, I really like him.” 

“Woah!” You turned to the side. “That I never heard, I’m impressed he managed to wrap you around his finger like that.” You said, nodding your head, impressed by how in love she looked but you’d never say it out loud since you knew she’d drag you to the pits of hell.

Seori never really liked relationships—heck! you’re surprised that she’s been your best friend for this long. She usually has casual and lowkey situationships as you like to call it, but seeing her with Sunghoon actually gave you hope that you might experience her having her first real boyfriend instead of her running away from her potential love interests. 

“Yeah whatever.” She rolled her eyes at your comment. “At Least I’m not the girl that’s been crushing on a guy for three years and hasn't made a move yet!”

“Hey! I am making one! It’s just a really slow move.” You tried to defend yourself.

Hopefully that move does work if Heeseung actually abides by your plan. So when you arrived there, the first thing you did was to search for Heeseung. Luckily, it didn’t take that much time as you found him in the middle of the field setting up the essential equipment needed for capturing some moments on the trip. You headed towards him, calling out his name making his bambi eyes drift towards you.

As you were near him, you reached out to your school bag and took out the comic he had set his eyes on, “You need to return it on Monday.

He silently thanked you while he nodded while you were still rummaging in your bag, “Here.”

You handed out a tiny bottle of banana milk to him, “Jungwon said you liked it, so.”

Heeseung blinked in surprise before he pursed his lips. He took the milk into his hand and turned around to put the comic and the milk into his bag, hiding his smile at the cute gesture from you.

The boy cleared his throat and started adjusting the settings for the camera while you rested your hand against the stand, your chin leaning on top of it, pouting in search for Beomgyu.

Once your eyes finally set on him talking to his friends, your eyes became a lot more dreamy and your once faltered feelings bounced back, strong as ever. 

“No girlfriend, right?” You muttered, still looking at Beomgyu.

“No.”

“Then what type of girls?”

“I don’t know, maybe Sim Eunha?” Heeseung answered, now recording bits of students socialising.

“Oh, so like someone innocent?” You said, taking out a notebook from your bag to record his likes, “That’s alright.”

“Favourite movie?”

“Armageddon.”

“Oh?” You smiled while writing it down, “Mine too.”

“Future major in college?” 

“Theatre and film of journalism and broadcasting.”

“Oh,” You wrote down the words he said quickly, “So he wants to be famous because he’s handsome?” You mumbled.

“No,” Heeseung stated, “I just like working with cameras.”

Wait a minute.

You looked up from your small notebook and processed his words. Is he really talking about himself? Your head shot towards the taller boy next to you with furrowed eyebrows. 

“What?” You exclaimed, “This isn't about you! I’m asking about Beomgyu.” You said as you slightly hit his arm which made him wince a bit. “If I have to get close to him, I need to know what he likes…And besides, why would I ask what you like anyways.”

“Such a dork.” Heeseung scoffed as he looked at your sulky face, “Come here, Soobin sent us both on this trip. You should record as well!” 

You rolled your eyes at the sight of Heeseung setting up his camera on the stand for more stability. You reluctantly but quickly put your pencil and your little notebook in the small pocket of your bag. His eyes averted to you as a signal to come closer which you obliged to.

“Put your eye here,” He pointed at the camera, guiding you to the camera’s viewfinder. “This is the zoom in button and here’s zoom out.” He showed you the necessary buttons needed, “Don't zoom in too much.” He nagged quietly. 

Heeseung slowly guided your hand to the zoom in button and slid it down to the zoom out button. His way of teaching you around his camera felt gentle and soothing, like you could listen to him talk about his cameras all day. His gentle touch and the proximity between you two made your heart feel like it was in a marathon. 

“Hit record.” He instructed and so you did.

You zoomed in on a few places with students chattering and at the scenery of the field and as well as the sky. 

“Hm, you’re doing surprisingly well.” He said, quietly. Way to ruin the moment if there even was one.

You froze at how close you two were where you could hear his heartbeat. It felt so comforting for some reason. You could listen to his deep breaths next to you as he guided you to record some of the scenery. But this also set off many alarms in your head, screaming at you.

What are you doing!?

Your breathing felt unsteady and awfully loud to you, to the point where you thought Heeseung could hear you.

“Okay I got it.” You muttered, trying to dominate the space you two shared behind the camera, “You can go.” You said, nagging him to leave you alone. 

He slowly backed away from you, taken aback from your words and let out a sigh which went unnoticed by you. You continued with recording the landscape which brought a sense of calmness to you. You zoomed into Seori and Sunghoon chatting away, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the cheery boy in front of him. 

Cute, you thought. 

You slowly panned your camera to the blue skies above the fields and now to the chestnut haired boy. Beomgyu’s smile melted your heart as he talked to some of his friends which seemed really funny with the way he laughed. 

He was soon joined by the taller boy, Heeseung. You zoomed in on Beomgyu to get a close-up of him, momentarily forgetting about recording the scenery. Yet, strange enough your hands instinctively moved the camera over to capture the boy next to him. There was something about Heeseung that you couldn’t quite grasp onto. His doe-like eyes sparkled as he chatted with his friends. 

With his hair that always seemed to fall so carelessly over his forehead and the way he would sneer slightly as if he was amused whenever someone spoke up, you could never seem to keep your eyes directed elsewhere and you didn’t really know why. He had this charm about him that was impossible for you to not look twice— the way his lips moved to the glint in his eyes.

After a brief pause, he looked right at the camera, catching your gaze. It startled you, and you fumbled with the camera— readjusting the camera and propping it back to the field quickly. 

Way to make it so not obvious.

However what you didn’t catch was Heeseung looking at your clumsy self, trying to grab shots here and there. And what you didn't see was the smile that found its way to his face, because of you.

If you were Heeseung, where would you be right now? Currently, you were looking for wherever Heeseung would be. In the broadcasting room? Surprisingly, no. One of his classes? No. The cafeteria? No sight of the tall boy. Heck! Even the field where Beomgyu was practising? All you could find was the dashing boy moving through the field with ease and shooting a goal into the net.

The banana milk in your hand started to look real good after your countless laps making you thirsty, but no! You were saving that for Heeseung, if he even is alive today. Suddenly, like lightning struck your head, you realised that Heeseung was a huuuge nerd. 

You jogged to where your school library would be, which was a few metres away from the football field. You entered the facility to see Heeseung in all his glory sitting at one of the tables reading the big book of the Photographers Guide. 

Of Course he’d be here!

Nerd.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, looking like he absorbed every word and the sight made you smile unknowingly. Without thinking, you walked over and took a seat in front of him.

“Whatchu reading?” you asked, dragging your words a bit, leaning in.

Heeseung let out a small yell as he flinched at the sound of you speaking which made your smile grow even wider, “Jesus, woman! stop sneaking up on me like that.” You laughed, brushing it off with a small sorry.

“Why are you here anyways?” He questioned, “You don’t read.”

“Woah!” You raised your hands a bit at the somewhat correct accusation, “I do, sometimes.” You giggled. “I came to give you this.” You placed the banana milk you were holding on the table.

He raised his eyebrow at you, “In exchange for?”

“For nothing! Just a friendly gesture,” you said, but then a sly smile crept up your face. “Actually, I was thinking...maybe we could all hang out together? You, me, and Beomgyu.”

Well he knew it.

“Hell no,” He said, stuffing his nose back into the big book.

“Cmon!” You nagged, your hand reaching for his arm trying to convince him.

Heeseung looked you dead in the eye to say the word ‘no’ again to which you groaned at. 

But then, you noticed a familiar book peeking out of Heeseung’s shoulder bag that was resting on the table. It was volume one of Demon Diary.

“Aha!” Without thinking, you snatched it up.

Heeseung shot up looking at you with widened eyes,”Hey! Give it back.” He protested. 

“I agreed to give this to you if you were to help.” You said, dangling the book infront of him. “And you’re not, so i’ll give this if you—”

“Fine.” He snatched the book from your hand. 

You flashed him a big grin, “Great! I’ll see you at three o'clock at the bus stop tomorrow.”

Heeseung nodded reluctantly as if he was being held at gunpoint!  “Fine. But if this turns out to be a disaster, I’m blaming you.”

“That’s fine,” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “But it won't be.” 

As you left the library, the reality of your plan started to sink in, filling you with a nervous excitement. To think that tomorrow would be the day that you would actually hang out with Beomgyu in the flesh just brought hundreds of butterflies into your stomach. But a part of you wondered if this was the right direction you were going. But as your plan finally starts to take shape, you think to yourself if this is what you really want? You look back at Heeseung being engrossed in his little book. You wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was looking forward to it too.

But, why do you care? You were here for Beomgyu, right? You are doing this for Beomgyu, you tell yourself. But even as you tried to convince yourself, the nagging thought that was right behind you kept pouring thoughts that maybe, just maybe, there was more to this than you first realised. 

The next day arrived in a blink. You were already waiting at the bus stop, dusting off the invisible specs over your dress. Your first real dress that you begged Seori to let you borrow. The baby blue chequered dress draped right above your knees and was held with two straps that rested on your shoulders which were tied into the shape of a bow. 

You looked over at your watch —2:55. You just hoped that Heeseung would show up after praying to the Gods that this plan would finally take off. 

The time stretched on. It took a few minutes to make your stomach start grumbling due to the nervousness that ran through your body, but everything was put aside when you saw Heeseung walking towards you clad in his white tee paired with cargo pants, his hands shoved in his pockets and a stoic expression covering his face. 

Next to him was a slightly shorter boy, but also the man of your dreams and the man that was actually in your dream last night as well. Imagining him so many times in front of you, this close felt overwhelming now that he was actually walking towards you. Not anyone else—you.

Heeseung and Beomgyu stopped in front of you and Beomgyu greeted you with a grin on his face, contrasting to the boy next to him, “Hi Y/n! It’s been a long time since we talked. Hope you won’t mind me tagging along.” He chuckled.

What? Tagging along?

What exactly did Heeseung tell him?

As Beomgyu walked further ahead of you two, you slowed down your pace to match Heeseung as you elbowed him and aggressively whispered, “What did you tell Beomgyu to get him to come?”

Heeseung glanced at you, with that still same stoic look on his face and shrugged. “He loves carnivals. I barely got to finish what I was saying before he was begging to tag along.” 

“Must be fate that we both loooove carnivals so much.” You said, giggling at the thought of you and Beomgyu sharing the same love for roller coasters and cotton candy, missing the roll in Heeseung’s eyes. 

The three of you finally got onto the bus, you going right after Beomgyu, excited for the trip to the carnival. As you neared one of the seats, the bus suddenly lurched forward, causing you to stumble and fall on your ass right in front of Beomgyu.

But lucky for you, Heeseung was right behind, you pressed against his chest. His hand quickly came into contact with your arm, his grip strong as ever. You looked over to see him just as shocked as you are, but the look in his eyes exuded a genuine concern. Before you could fully register what had just happened, he pushed you away from him while wearing that same stern look on his face.

“Thanks," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze as you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

Then he finally looked at you, “Sit.”

You quickly obeyed, sitting on one of the seats that was next to Beomgyu who quickly asked if you were okay after seeing you stumble. You replied saying you were fine and breathed out the breath that you didn't know you were holding in.

You looked at Beomgyu once again, who was blissfully unaware of the little moment you just had with Heeseung, if you could even call it that. You turned your head to look at Heeseung who was standing beside you, one hand gripping the rail above for support while his eyes were fixed onto the passing scenery outside the window. 

You could feel the warmth of him radiating beside you and it strangely brought comfort to you. Even if he wasn’t touching you anymore, even if he was looking ahead of you, eyes stuck to the scenery outside one of the windows. It made you feel an unfamiliar emotion which you never experienced. And you wondered why it only happened whenever you saw Heeseung.

Beomgyu on the other hand was mindlessly babbling about the different types of rides he wanted to go and how he hadn’t been to an amusement park in years. You nodded along to his words, trying to focus on his mindless chatter about the terrifying but exciting roller coasters they have, but your mind kept running back to how Heeseung’s hand felt on your arm, how you were pressed against his chest and that look that he had in his eyes.

That stupid look.

It only happened whenever he locked eyes with you. You honestly wondered if he had sprinkled something over his eyes to make him look at you like that. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. With recurring encounters revolving around both of you, you started to lean into that look, almost wanting him to look over you with his bambi like doe eyes. 

But, you were sure that would change today. You were going to stick with Beomgyu. The bus came to a stop at the amusement park, dropping you three off. The sight of the crowded park and the sound of excited chatter alone filled the air, clearing your previous thoughts. 

You could practically hear Beomgyu’s excitement. You found yourself smiling along at him, heading towards the park as he pointed to the different rides and the various games they had. And on your other side was the walking grey cloud who had a bored look on his face the entire time. Well usually that wouldn’t bother you, but something was pulling you to walk around and try every game with him. Not the other. 

Fuck, you couldn’t get distracted. 

“We should go on the rollercoaster!” Beomgyu pointed with a big grin plastered on his face.

You nodded along although Heeseung wasn’t having the same reaction, “You guys go ahead, I’ll just walk around.”

“C'mon! It’d be fun! Don’t be such a pussy!” Beomgyu exclaimed, coming near him, his hand dragging Heeseung’s as a motion to join.

“Yeah.. you should come.” You said this time, with a genuine smile, looking forward to seeing how this scaredy cat—due to his previous shrieks from you creeping up on him—would handle roller coasters.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, he was screaming the entire time on the rollercoaster, barely making it out alive and cursing Beomgyu for wanting a second round. You couldn't help but laugh at his state while he was panting for air, his hands on his knees after getting off the “wretched” ride as he liked to call it.

You three would go onto ride the carousel and eat a month’s supply of cotton candy. You couldn’t resist dragging Heeseung onto the Disco Bang ride, laughing as he was tossed around in the spinning machine. 

Your hands naturally found your way to Heeseung’s, dragging him to any of the games to your liking, him just obliging and tagging along. You made him play the claw machine game a dozen times for a hello kitty doll and he would, skillfully manoeuvring the handles to get the cute plushie. He didn’t know why, but he did it so he could see that the doll would perfectly fall into your arms. 

Beomgyu was far gone into the fun of the carnival, drunk on adrenaline which made him ride the rollercoaster again, twice. And at the end of the day, he had to meet the consequences of his previous decision, making his feet stumble on itself and his head dizzy. 

By the time you finished circling around the entire amusement park, the sun had already begun to set. The sky was painted in shades of orange fading into pink, the stars already visible. 

And there was one more ride that you didn’t check out. The biggest part of the plan. You saved the ferris wheel for the last so you could hop on into one of the tiny cabins and sit next to Beomgyu as you both watched the fireworks begin. 

A solid set plan right? 

“Let’s check out the Ferris wheel,” you suggested, pointing to the towering structure dazzled with colourful lights.

“Uh..sure!” Beomgyu hesitantly said while rubbing his tummy, his face a bit pale.

You smiled and got into line side by side with Beomgyu and Heeseung knew that was his cue to let you two have your “moment” as you like to call it. Heeseung joined the cue later so he could go alone, his tall figure a few metres away from you. Beomgyu was too worried about his stomach grumbling to wonder why Heeseung didn’t join you both. 

As you got to the cabin, Beomgyu laid his hand on your shoulder, “I think I’m gonna be sick…"

“Beomgyu, you good?” You asked, worry creeping into your voice as you glanced between him and Heeseung, who looked equally as concerned.

“Yeah, go ahead with Heeseung.” He said, quickly leaving the line to find the nearest bathroom so he could hurl his guts out. 

Fuck.

No, no, no.

This wasn’t supposed to go this way.

The line attendant had already called out to you two, so you had to hurry inside the tiny cabin with Heeseung. You swallowed the little bump in your throat, bummed that you didn’t get to sit with Beomgyu.

You got Heeseung instead.

You plopped onto the seat, Heeseung sitting in front of you. Your eyes visibly looked sad, and Heeseung had that familiar feeling rushing all over again. The last he felt this was at the locker, the same look shadowed your eyes again. 

But, he couldn’t say anything. He just had to sit there and look at your pretty face with a pout on your lips. 

Finally, as the cabins were about to start spinning in circles, he broke the silence, “You okay?”

You scrunched up the ends of your dress, nodding as you looked at the way the fabric bundled up in your hands. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, with a softer tone, “I’m sorry that Beomgyu couldn’t join you.”

“It's..fine.” You looked outside the window to embrace the calm scenery.

Heeseung just sighed and followed your gaze out the window, occasionally looking at you, that same look on your face.

“Do you think Beomgyu liked this?” You mindlessly asked, feeling disappointment was over you.

“Yeah, I think.” Heeseung quietly answered. “ He just got ahead of himself.”

“Today was supposed to be perfect, Beomgyu was supposed to actually like me today.” You confessed, your words tumbling over you as your disappointment grew. “I was supposed to watch the fireworks with him on the ferris wheel, but now he’s puking his guts out probably cursing me for planning this and I dragged you into this—-“

Hey, hey… you did good today.” Heeseung’s words rushed to comfort you, his heart aching as he heard your breathing quickening.

“He genuinely looked like he had fun with you and trust me I know how he looks when he has fun and this was one of the few times he actually smiled that much around anyone. If you ask me, I think he… likes you plenty.”

Heeseung didn’t know why, but he hated saying those last few words. The boy had to spend the entire day at the park looking at Beomgyu gleam over you with such sincerity in his eyes as you smiled with him, riding fucking automated horses that went around in a circle and to say that he likes you was the perfect cherry on top.

“Thank you, Seung.”

Seung.

That was the first time you ever called him by a nickname. It had always been "Heeseung," usually accompanied by some kind of teasing or nagging. So don’t blame his heart for skipping a beat when you sat there all pretty calling him a name which made his mind dizzy.

“The fireworks are starting.” You said, a soft smile rested on your face as you looked to the view outside your window which Heeseung shortly followed after.

And as if on cue, just as the ferris wheel stopped with you both on top, the first set of fireworks had exploded into the sky. It filled the dark night with colour while your eyes lingered over the lit patches of collie, mesmerised by its beauty. 

“It’s so pretty.” You muttered, your voice filled with awe.

Heeseung didn’t respond right away. Why? He was too busy looking at you. It felt more worthwhile than watching a few fireworks light up the night sky. It was more worth it to see how your eyes lit up at the sight. How your eyes widened in shock of the scenery ahead of you.

You looked pretty.

“So pretty.” He muttered, almost in a whisper where only he and his gear could hear it.

Time seemed to stop. The only thing in motion was the continuous fireworks bursting and Heeseung didn’t want it to end. He realised then and there that he would burst up as many fireworks just to see that smile on your face. He realised that he’d do anything to see you happy.

That night, while he sat with you on top of the ferris wheel to watch the fireworks, Heeseung realised something deeper than he was ready to admit— yet something he couldn’t ignore, at least not anymore.

You don’t remember much about the end of yesterday. The fireworks felt like the only thing that was running in your mind. And Heeseung? You don’t seem to remember much about him in the ferris wheel—kept saying the fireworks were pretty or something? 

Nevertheless, you were a hundred percent sure that your plan yesterday had worked. Although there may have been a few minor setbacks (Beomgyu hurling his guts out), you were pretty confident that Beomgyu might see you as his future girlfriend.

That’s why you sprang out of bed, determined to commence phase two of your plan.

Movie date with Choi Beomgyu.

Featuring the infamous Lee Heeseung sitting two rows away from you both.

Considering that today was the last day of school, you knew it was your final chance to get closer to Beomgyu. As you walked down the hallway together with Seori, you had your mandatory debriefing with her about the events that happened last night, reminiscing every sweet moment with Beomgyu.

“Oh my gosh!” Seori squealed, “You two are so cute together!”

You nodded your head, feeling proud about it. “ You finally talked to a real boy! I thought this day would never come!” Seori dramatically exclaimed, making your eyes roll as she clung onto your arms in excitement.

And as if on cue, Beomgyu came into view, stepping out of a classroom. To your surprise, he actually looked at you and waved.

He actually waved!

Trying to stay composed, you waved back with a soft smile, watching as he walked away. Seori in turn looked the most excited she’s ever been, squeezing your arm hard.

“He so wants you!” She said, playfully.

You bit your lip, trying to contain that flutter in your chest. “Hopefully.” You replied in a mutter, still slightly dazed.

But deep inside you, that flutter didn’t have that same kick to it. It almost felt unfamiliar. As if it was fading away, slowly slipping through your fingers.You weren’t sure why, but the thought of Beomgyu liking you didn’t bring as much joy as it did before.

What fueled you to continue was the pure determination that coursed through your veins. With that resolve, you left to go meet your matchmaker, Heeseung.

Which is how you found yourself in front of the broadcasting room again, later that day. You opened the door to see Heeseung there fiddling with some of the equipment.

“Hey Seung.” He turned around to see you heading towards him, his eyes softening a bit at the sight of you.

“Hey.” He quietly said, going back to adjusting some equipment.

“Why the long face?” You pouted, taking a seat next to him.

Well he would look like he was struck by lightning if you called him “seung” though that pretty mouth of yours, ever so softly. If only you knew how his heart was running miles when you said it so softly, making him melt at the sound of his name coming from your lips. 

“Nothing.” He brushed it off.

“Hmm, you could tell me if something is bothering you.” You said, with sincerity. “Did I do something wrong?” You asked as you put your chin onto your hand, looking up at him with your doe eyes.

God, he was a goner.

“You’re fine, dork.” He finally smiled at you, ruffling your hair and going back to whatever he was working on.

You froze at the warmth in his gaze, but pushed the feeling aside. “Well in that case, do you wanna watch a movie with me?” You smiled, with hope in your eyes.

“You mean, me third-wheeling you and Beomgyu?” He rolled his eyes.

“Well, you are supposed to help me.” You huffed, making a point.

Heeseung glanced back at you once again seeing that pout on your face which made him sigh, “Fine, whatever.”

You squealed in excitement, hugging his arm as you were thrilled to hear his answer. 

The day passed on quickly, and before you knew it, it was already seven o’clock and you were already waiting for Heeseung and Beomgyu outside the familiar bus stop again.

But this time, Heeseung came with the absence of Beomgyu. You wondered if he was coming later than expected or…if he wasn’t coming at all. The thought alone made you gulp.

“Where’s Beomgyu?” You looked behind Heeseung, desperate to see if he even was behind the tall figure.

“He did not take that rollercoaster ride well, long story short; he fell sick.” Heeseung dropped the devastating news.

You huffed in annoyance, “Is he okay? I saw him at school today.” You asked, voicing your sincerity.

“Yeah, he is. He took half a day.” Heeseung said, shoving his hands in his pocket, “Just needs rest.”

If it only wasn’t for Beomgyu’s weak immunity, you’d both be smooching in Hawaii! (or watching the movie, you could work with either.)

“Well, what are we going to do now! I already paid.” You pouted, crossing your arms in frustration. 

Heeseung could only softly smile at your frustrated self. Just then, the bus arrived, and you looked at Heeseung, pursing your lips. 

You grabbed his hand before heading inside the bus, “What are you doing?” Heeseung asked with startled eyes.

“I’m not wasting my money.” You muttered, as you sat on one of the seats in the bus while Heeseung scoffed at your response.

You and Heeseung ended up at your local cinema, watching the re-release of fucking Top Gun, a choice made because you thought Beomgyu would like it. On the other hand, Heeseung was having the time of his life, completely immersed in the world of guns and whatnot. 

Pfft. Typical Nerd.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t think he was cute whenever he slightly flinched at the explosions on the screen. Not that cute though. Maybe… kinda… you weren’t sure!

You were just frustrated about not being seated next to Beomgyu. Instead it was just Heeseung sitting next to you. But a part of you didn’t mind, in fact it brought a small smile to your face. 

You shuffled in your seat trying to shake off the uneasy feeling you got in your stomach whenever you thought about Heeseung. 

Well you never felt like this in your whole seventeen years of living, and you sure didn’t feel like this with Beomgyu. It felt almost comforting with Heeseung. You both didn’t have to fill the silence every time, you could just feel at ease with each other’s presence. With Beomgyu, there were always butterflies roaming through your stomach, but with Heeseung you felt like you didn’t have to try to impress yourself, just you being there felt enough. 

And a part of you didn’t care that you were sitting next to Heeseung watching this God awful movie, occasionally grazing hands whenever both of you reached into the popcorn bucket. But thank God that the movie ended because you couldn’t take another second of guns and explosions.

You both made your way out of the theatre in silence, though you couldn’t stop thinking about comparing your all time love with Heeseung. You were so immersed that you didn’t even notice the uneven sidewalk to the nearing bus station until it was too late. Well you did stumble, but before you could hit the ground, Heeseung caught you just in time again.

God, you’ve got to stop falling!

“When will you open your eyes?” Heeseung remarked with sarcasm and he let go.

You didn’t register the stupid remark Heeseung had said, as the pain in your ankle started becoming impossible to ignore. You looked down to realise that you probably strained your ankle.

“Ouch.” You winched at the pain, as you rubbed your leg.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung crouched down to get a better look.

“I don’t know, I think I strained it.” Heeseung only sighed at your answer.

He shaked his head slightly, facing away from you as he was crouching so you could climb onto his back, “Come on, get on.”

“What? Heeseung, I can walk.” You said, though you definitely could not. But you weren’t getting on his back after your little thought session at the movies.

But your protests were a waste because before you knew it, you were on his back, holding onto his shoulders as he carried you.

“You’re lighter than I thought.” Heeseung teased, keeping his tone light.

You hit his back lightly as you retorted, “I’m not that light.” Though a small reluctantly found its way to your face.

Heeseung walked towards the bus station, while you rested your head on his shoulder, kicking your legs in a trace of rhythm while occasionally talking with Heeseung, though most of it was Heeseung humming along to whatever mindless thoughts you voiced. 

It almost felt like you knew him for most of your life. It felt so soothing with him, his little teases making you whine. His way of looking at you like you were the most fragile thing on earth. His way of making you smile whenever you felt sad. 

It felt like he was the one. 

But he isn’t.

Beomgyu is.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as Heeseung slowly crept up your heart. What you didn’t know was that Heeseung felt the same. Almost like two idiots in denial. Typical.

Once you got onto the train, you sat side by side in silence, the gentle ride on the bus with occasional bumps lulled you into a peaceful state. You pulled out your headphones and handed one to Heeseung, “Here.”

The soft melody of “스물다섯, 스물하나 “ by JAURIM flowed into your eyes, making this moment feel like a scene from a movie. Without realising, you leaned your head on his shoulder, the day’s events catching up to you. And before you knew it, you drifted off into a long sleep. 

Heeseung glanced down at you, a small smile played on his lips as he watched. He couldn't help but think how adorable you looked even if you were doing almost as nothing as sleeping against him. The wind from the open window made a few strands of hair fall onto your face, he gently grazed your face, tucking them behind your ear. 

And the moment you shifted closer to him in your sleep, he knew he was done for.

Time passed quickly. It was already December. As the end of the school year approached, with graduation just around the corner, the broadcasting club decided to put in their two cents in the yearbook signing party. And Soobin thought a photo booth would be the perfect inclusion for it, so students could take a picture with their friends one last time. 

And naturally, you and Heeseung were assigned to watch over the photobooth while the other members were assigned to different parts of the party such as the memory lane. You were manning the table with Heeseung while Seori and Sunghoon came over to your stand.

“Seori! You came!” You squealed at the sight of your best friend hand in hand with Sunghoon. “Hi Sunghoon.”

He waved at you with a smile, “We wanted to get a few pictures before it gets too crowded. Plus I had to drag him here.” Seori said, giving you the needed money.

“Yeah, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He teased Seori, gently ruffling her hair as she whined. 

Seori slightly nudged Sunghoon before fixing her hair for the pictures. You and Heeseung could only chuckle at their playful banter. 

“Right away, lovebirds.” You snickered with Heeseung at the sight of the two while Seori glared at you, mouthing ‘says you’ while eyeing Heeseung as well.

Uncalled for…

Seori pulled in Sunghoon in the booth, Sunghoon taking the initiative to pull her onto his lap as she giggled. They shared cute and goofy pictures with Seori giving Sunghoon a kiss on the cheek at the end. 

“They’re cute.” You mumbled to Heeseung.

“I guess.” Heeseung smiled with you, glancing at you occasionally.

After Seori and Sunghoon left, time went faster as the crowd started to fill up the Gym. The line for the photo booth became longer. Seori decided to join your table for a while to cure her boredom while Sunghoon played with his friends in the court. Just in time, Beomgyu showed up, revealing who was next in line.

And before you knew it, you were squished in the photo booth with Beomgyu on one end and Heeseung at the other, Seori taking up the remaining space at the far end. “Move over!” Beomgyu giggled while pushing you more against Heeseung. Instinctively, Heeseung wrapped his arm around you, his hand brushing against your waist as he pulled you in. 

A mix of nervousness and excitement rushed over you, as the same familiar warmth settled in your stomach. It wasn’t because of the tight space but because of how close Heeseung was to you. The warmth of his hand against your waist sent shivers down your spine.

The camera's flash went off a few times, capturing the moments with you four. Beomgyu had put on whatever goofy face he could come up with and Seori had her signature peace sign up while a small smile rested on Heeseung’s face. 

As the evening wore on, the crowd started to disappear. Students gathered their belongings, bidding each other goodbye. A strange sense of nostalgia washed over you, feeling emotional that this could be the last time you’d be talking with these students. Karina, Jungwon, and Rei had bid you goodbye as they left after taking down the memory lane they had set up. 

Taehyun and Lia had come in later as they were busy with student body council stuff, but wished you and Heeseung both a quick goodbye before they left as well. And before you knew it, it was only you and Heeseung with a few other students roaming around the Gym. You glanced at Heeseung who was organising the leftover photostrips, carefully putting them into one of the brown boxes beside him. 

A small smile played on your lips, “You wanna take some pictures? Just us two.” 

Heeseung looked up at you with his bambi eyes, a smile on his face. “Sure.” He agreed.

The two of you slipped inside the photo booth, and all of a sudden the air felt different. The atmosphere hung something heavy, waiting to be acknowledged. You sat fairly close together, trying to settle in. 

Heeseung started the timer and sat back down with a smile. You barely had time to think before the first flash went off catching you off guard. This made you laugh, along with Heeseung. The other flashes were followed by playful poses, you placing a peace sign behind Heeseung’s head and Heeseung pinching your cheeks.

Before the last flash went off, you felt a shift in the atmosphere. That feeling started becoming impossible to ignore. Heeseung turned to look at you just as you turned towards you. Your eyes met. Suddenly everything around you was a blur. It was just Heeseung in focus. The boy who months ago got on your nerves. The silent chatter outside became white noise for you. 

Heeseung’s gaze softened, your eyes never left him. The final flash went off going unnoticed. Before you even processed what was going on, he leaned in. HIs lips gently brushing against yours, your eyes instinctively closing. 

It felt soft, careful, yet why did your heart feel like it was going to leap out of your chest. His hands grazed your cheek pulling you closer as you reciprocated the kiss, earning him to pull even closer. It felt so raw yet so gentle. The kiss lasted a few seconds, yet it felt like an eternity. You were so far gone. You don’t seem to remember anything. 

When you finally pulled away, you both looked at each other, out of breath as you were stunned in silence.

Just then, you heard someone’s voice from outside. “Heeseung?” It was Soobin, his voice laced in urgency. 

Heeseung blinked out of his daze, pulling himself outside the photobooth after opening the curtain that divided the photobooth from the outside. “I–I’m here!” He called out, his voice shaken up. 

“Can you help me carry these boxes to the storage room? Miss Lee wants them gone by now.” He huffed, handing one of the boxes to Heeseung.

Heeseung glanced back at you, sitting in the photo booth still shaken up by that stunt Heeseung pulled. He only gulped and looked back at Soobin. “Yeah sure.” Though he didn’t have another choice as Soobin already shoved the box in his face.

“Thanks dude.” Soobin smiled and headed out the Gym with Heeseung. Heeseung looked back at you one last time before exiting the Gym, the kiss replaying in his head over and over again. 

You sat there for a moment, still not being able to process what just happened. Your heart was pounding like crazy, almost trying to jump out of your chest. The vibrations of your heart beat reached your chest, followed by your uneven breathing. Yet despite all of this chaos, you could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours. 

You still feel the presence of him next to you. Slowly, a small smile crept onto your kiss.  After you collected yourself, you finally stepped out of the photobooth. Your heart was still racing as you pulled at the photo strip hanging from the slot. As you looked at the photostrip, the last shot catched your attention, making you snicker to yourself.

You probably look like a crazy woman right now.

The one before the last shot caught your attention–the one right before the kiss. There was something with the way he looked at you, something you had noticed before, but didn’t care for. And now that you realised what it meant, you couldn’t look away. 

And it was then, standing outside the photobooth alone got you to realise just how much you liked this moment. You liked that kiss. You liked Heeseung. The thought alone hit you like a ton of bricks. All this time, you’d been so focused on Beomgyu yet It was Heeseung all along, standing right infront you yet you were so blind. 

The once crush on Beomgyu that had felt so secure was torn by in seconds through that kiss. All that you knew was crushed by the boy you thought was stuck up and a geek. 

Heeseung didn’t know what to do. He was in a state of confusion. Why did he kiss you? He knows you like Beomgyu. And why did you kiss him back? You like Beomgyu. Heeseung thought of himself as so fucking stupid. Why did he leave you like that? He wanted to hug you so badly and pour everything that he was holding in. He didn’t know what to do with these overwhelming amount of emotions. And all of these emotions were ones he felt for you. Not anyone else.

The days that followed the kiss were a blur, he’d been stuck in his bed, ignoring every call that Beomgyu made or any other friend of his. All he could do was sigh and rethink that day at the photobooth. 

He couldn’t face Beomgyu right now knowing it was your heart that belonged to him and he sure couldn’t look at you, after knowing you liked someone else. The realisation pierced him, leaving a nasty sting. 

On the other hand, you cursed the timing for making you and Heeseung kiss right at the end of the school year. You sulked, knowing you couldn’t see Heeseung after this, having to wait a month to see him in person. So you could only take the landline and call him.

What was strange is that he didn’t pick.

Again and again.

Was he…ignoring you?

As more days passed, his absence left a hole in you. It hurt like a bitch. Seori visited occasionally only to meet your dull self. You were grateful you had your best friend by your side who comforted you everytime you slipped out a sob. Your heart winced at each time the call would go to voicemail. You knew you couldn’t take it anymore so you called your last hope.

Choi Beomgyu.

“Hey, can we talk? In person.” You said, keeping it short.

Moments later, you met him at the local park, the sight bringing memories of where you and Heeseung talked. Fuck. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Beomgyu asked, taking a seat on the bench which you followed shortly after.

“Has…Heeseung been ignoring you?” You asked, your voice filled with hesitation.

Beomgyu let out a long sigh and leaned back, looking up at the night sky. “I don’t know why, he’s never been like this.”

So he has.

“I even went to his house, but his mom just said he’s going through some kind of phase. I don’t get it dude. It’s all so confusing,” Beomgyu mindlessly ranted, “Did he ignore you too? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“He did.” You answered, “And I think it’s all my fault.”

Beomgyu furrowed his eyebrows, looking at you now. “What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, you began,  “Beomgyu, I like you. Or at least I liked you. “ You mentally winced at the sight of his eyes widening. “But now, I think I like Heeseung. Like a lot. And… we kissed in the photo booth that day, but after that, he just ran off.”

“Like the coward he is.” Beomgyu scoffed, clearly annoyed at his best friend’s loser-ish behaviour.

“And now, he probably still thinks I have feelings for you. I wanna tell him that I like him, he just won’t pick up.” You sulked, trying not to let the tears that formed in your eye fall.

“Hey, hey.” Beomgyu rubbed his hand against your back to comfort you,”He probably feels guilty about this, that’s probably why he’s shutting everyone out. I’m really sorry this happened, but…I think all we could do for now is to wait for him until he’s ready. He’s probably overwhelmed by everything.” He sighed.

“I know Beomgyu, I just want to talk to him so bad. I want to clear everything up. I just want to see him.” You said, your voice shaky. 

“Hey, if it’s hurting you this much… I’ll try and talk to him. I’ll try to get through to him.” Beomgyu said, his voice gentle 

You sniffed, wiping a stray tear. “Thank you.”

“If it makes you stop crying.” He said with a smile. 

You went back home with a comforted heart which was still hurting a bit. If you could only see Heeseung, everything would be cured. You’d give him the biggest hug and tell him everything you’ve been holding on to.

As you looked at the landline hanging on the wall, you leaned against the cold wall of your hallway. You picked the phone, dialling the familiar number once again.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Each ring felt like an eternity. You gripped the phone even tighter, desperate that he’d pick up. A lump appeared in your throat as the tears that were once gone came back and rested against your eyes, threatening to fall out. 

“Please pick up…Please.” You voiced out in a whisper.

It went to voicemail.

You let out the breath you’d been holding. You let go of the telephone you had been holding. The ears that had been stinging your eyes finally fell out as you let out a sob. You just hoped he didn’t hate you and you hoped that he’d pick up your calls tomorrow.

It had been days since Heeseung and you talked. Ever since that kiss, he hasn’t talked to you or Beomgyu. But what could he do? He didn’t seem to know. Christmas Eve had arrived, a time usually filled with warmth, joy, yet he just couldn’t shake that dreaded feeling off him.

The slowly softly landed on the concrete outside the house, the night displaying the bright stars. He trudged out the house carrying a garbage bag to dispose of it. 

Meanwhile, Beomgyu stood outside his house, padded up in his winter coat, his breath made visible in the air. He watched Heeseung’s dull self make a boring chore even more boring. He had been waiting a while for Heeseung to come out the house, and to his luck, Heeseung’s timing couldn’t be more perfect. 

Though Heeseung didn’t see him at first since his mind was scattered somewhere else, Beomgyu knew just what to do. He crouched down to grab a handful of snow and made a makeshift snowball or war weapon as Beomgyu would like to call it.

Before Heeseung could even turn back, a snowball suddenly smacked him in his back. Startled, Heeseung turned around quickly as his eyes landed on the mischievous boy. 

He groaned, “Seriously?” He brushed the snow off his jacket, sighing at the annoying act.

Beomgyu only smiled, crouching down once again to throw another. This time, it went straight to his arm and Heeseung could only sigh at his childish acts.

“What do you want?” Heeseung asked, feeling annoyed.

“Came to talk.” Beomgyu said, stepping closer. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” 

Heeseung raised his eyes at the insult, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do.” Beomgyu gazed at the boy, “You like Y/n.”

His heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, “I mean I get it, She’s pretty.”

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed straight at him, a shot of jealousy hit him, “Dude.”

Beomgyu smiled at his reaction, “So you do like her.” He laughed.

“That doesn’t matter anymore. I fucked up.” He sighed.

The older boy shook his head, “You don’t know her. I mean have you talked to her?”

“I just don’t want to.” Heeseung said, a shaky voice emitted through his throat. “I’m…scared of what she’s going to say.”

Beomgyu sighed at his friend’s foolishness but he didn’t want to be the one to break the news of you liking him back, “You never know until you try. You should talk to her.”

Beomgyu's words had left Heeseung cluttered with thoughts. He should really talk to you. Yet he still was running away from the idea of having to do anything with you. For all he could know, he might’ve really fucked up your friendship and he jus did not want to face that. 

Heeseung started at the ground, his voice soft as a whisper, “I’m sorry I ignored you. It was stupid of me to do that.” 

Beomgyu put his hand around him as a warm, understanding gesture. “You are. But you’re my best friend. You can talk to me, you know?”

The taller boy only nodded at his words, “You know, Jay is having a christmas party now.” He said after a moment. “You should come.” 

Heeseung glanced at the boy, hesitation ran through his face but he could only nod before Boemgyu grinned at him, taking him away from his house as he headed towards Jay’s.

The cold didn’t seem to be biting anymore for Heeseung. He finally felt the relief and the comfort of christmas. The warmth of the christmas lights finally rushed towards him as he finally put on a smile to be reconciled with his best friend.

Now all he had to do was talk to you.

The warm air buzzed with sweaty teenagers and booze in every corner. There were a few garlands thrown around here and there, but that was just for the name of calling this a christmas party, though Jay just wanted to talk to girls. You were squished against some sophomores with Seori, trying to get past the drunk teenagers and head to the kitchen for some water.

“Hey, did you see Sunghoon?” Seori asked, looking around.

“No, you should probably ask Jay. I see him at the entrance.” You suggested, while taking two water bottles out the fridge. “Here.” You passed on to your best friend.

“Okay, don’t get lost or get into trouble! No drugs!” She shouted as she dived back into the pile of drunk teenagers. 

After a while, you went back into the living room, already regretting coming back into the crowd. Suddenly, a voice rang through your ears making you turn your head. 

“Hi Y/n! Didn’t know you came!” Beomgyu exclaimed, hugging you with one hand while his other was occupied with a beer.

“Yeah, Seori kinda forced me to come.” You said, with a hearty laugh. “Is he… here?” You asked, with hope.

Beomgyu smiled as he grinned, “He’s at the back. You should talk to him.” He nudged you.

You smiled, thanking him as you left to see Heeseung. The thought of seeing him brought that warm feeling back in you. Something you missed feeling. At that moment, you realised how much of a void he left in you when he went M.I.A. 

He was standing there, looking slightly out of place. His bambi eyes still managed to shine through the dark setting. You took in a deep breath and went up to him.

“Heeseung. Hi.” 

Heeseung’s heartbeat quickened. He gulped looking over you. “Hey, Y/n.”

“How are you?” You said, trying to engage in small talk knowing you wanted more than to hug him and clear everything up.

“I’m well. Finally got out of the house.” He slowly spoke, taking a sip out of his red cup. “How bout you?” 

“I’m okay…” To be honest, you weren’t. You had spent so much time thinking about Heeseung and your feelings and how that whole moment at the photobooth felt. Just the thought of him and your countless failed attempts at calling him never left your mind.

“You never picked up.” You curtly said. “I was…waiting for you.”

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I never meant to ignore you.” He said, coming closer to you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I’d never.” You smiled sincerely, looking up at him. 

He smiled at that. “Merry Christmas Y/n.” The boy said softly, a small smile played on his lips.

You giggled as you came closer. “Merry Christmas Seung.” 

The tension between you both wore away. It felt normal again. It felt like the same old you and the same old Heeseung. And you liked how it was right now. 

But just as you were about to say something more, Jake spoke up. “Yo, you guys are standing under the mistletoe.” He yelled as he pointed at the sprig of mistletoe above you both. 

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” The chants echoed throughout the room, and all you could look at was how flushed Heeseung looked. You needed to let him know that you liked him now. You weren’t able to let out the words before so you took a step closer to him. 

You could see how red his ears were to which you smiled at. Cute. As you looked at him for consent through your doe eyes, he took the cue to hook his hands around your waist, filling the gap between you two. You instinctively put your arms around his necks, bringing his face closer to you. 

Just as Heeseung leaned in closer, with his breath feeling warm against your skin. Jay suddenly barged through the crowd, his voice loud enough to cut through the speaker’s music. You just caught him and just like that he slipped through your fingers. 

“Shit, Y/n!” 

You turned around startled, unconsciously pushing Heeseung away. “What’s wrong?”

“Seori’s crying.” Jay said, in a quieter voice. 

Your heart immediately sank, the moment you both had immediately fading away.  

“Fuck, is she okay?” You asked, voicing your concern. 

“Man, is this kiss gonna happen?” Jake said, tired of waiting. 

“Shut the fuck up, man!” You yelled before following Jay with Heeseung. 

Echoes of boos could be heard through the room, but you didn’t care about that. The only thing in your mind was Seori. You just hoped nothing intense happened.

You were left to see a distressed Seori, bawling while Beomgyu patted her back. “Seori, what’s wrong?” You asked, in a gentle manner, wiping the tears off her face.

“Sunghoon—kissed Junhee!” Seori hiccuped.

You immediately hugged her, her sniffles now becoming muffled. “I thought—we had something!” 

The tears soaked through your shirt as you as she let out uncontrollable sobs. You have never seen her like this in all of your seventeen years of living. It honestly broke your heart to see her in this state and realising how much that douchebag meant to her after countlessly brushing off the times you’ve teased her about being wrapped around his finger.

It fucking sucked to see your best friend being torn into bits all because she liked a boy. You were too much into comforting Soeri that you completely forgot about your surroundings—even Heeseung.

“Let’s go home, okay?” You spoke in a gentle manner, squeezing her tight as you spoke to which she only nodded.

You headed out the door, thanking Beomgyu and Jay. Heeseung mindlessly followed you two, a soft look on his face.

As you led Seori out the party and onto the porch, her sobs got quieter as she hiccuped occasionally. The air fresh from December hit your face, the windy atmosphere almost feeling harsher towards you. 

You finally let her out of your grip to let her collect herself and cool off a bit. You friend to Heeseung who was already looking at you with the light from the street lamps shining through his eyes.

“I’m..sorry we didn’t get to talk.” You mumbled, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“Don’t apologise. You did the right thing.” He reassured you with a soft smile, rubbing your arm as a gesture of comfort which made you smile back.

“We can always talk later, dork.” 

You missed him calling you that. You missed everything he did.

“Merry Christmas, Seung.” You said, tiptoeing to kiss him on the cheek. 

His eyes sprightly widened at that. He honestly couldn’t believe his eyes. A pretty girl just kissed him—correction; the prettiest girl in the world just kissed him. He felt like he won the lottery and the price was you. 

“Merry Christmas Y/n. Get home safe.” He said, as you walked away from him, hand in hand with Seori who was deep in her thoughts.

You waved towards him, your attention on him now converting to Seori who was beside you as you both headed to her house.

Heeseung touched the sticky mark that your lipgloss left on his cheek. The warmth of your small kiss still lingered on his cheek. As you disappeared from his sight, he knew he had to pour his heart and soul to the girl who had stolen his heart.

You always thought of spending a new year’s eve party at someone’s house, drinking booze and dancing with people left and right. But you realised, this year felt different. You leaned against the cold window of your bedroom, it was slightly drizzling outside. The sound of your tv turned on for the new year’s parade complimented the white noise you could hear from outside your room. 

It felt almost lonely, you turned around looking at the scenery of the night, the stars resting against the night sky. You had already beeped Seori through your pager but she has yet to call you, leaving you wondering what she was up to now.

Suddenly, a small thud against the window jolted you from your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to see the commotion outside. As you peered out the window, you saw four familiar figures standing outside your house, one of them wiggling a bag of soju bottles and snacks. 

Ofcourse, they’d show up unannounced. 

You rolled your eyes at the sight of Seori, Beomgyu and Heeseung showing up in front of your door, to your surprise. You quickly went downstairs to let them inside and showed them to your bedroom. 

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, as you sat down on the cold floor where you were once seated.

“Saving your ass from a boring new year, duh!” Seori said, placing the bottles on the floor as she took a seat next to you.

“You guys really didn’t have to do this.” You said, though your eyes went up to Heeseung, like he was the only person who was in the room. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of that glow that he gave.

“Ey, it was more an excuse just to get black out drunk.” Beomgyu nudged your rib cage after sitting down next to you as Heeseung sat in front of you, not a ward out of his mouth.

As the night progressed, you four got comfortable and you later found out how much of a good pair Seori mixed with Beomgyu was. Though, you didn’t expect them to actually stick to their words and get wasted. Laughter echoed from them every five minutes and long before you knew it, Seori started blabbering mindless words while Beomgyu giggled at the smallest thing. 

“Beomgyu, what do you know about love?” Seori said, as she spread her legs, lying on the floor.

“Love?” Beomgyu giggled, “That’s funny.”

“Hey, have you ever been in love?” Seori mumbled to him.

“With soju, yeah.” He joked, earning a light hit from Seori.

“You kids still have to experience the heartbreak to know what love is.” Seori scoffed, her hands on her stomach as she looked at the ceiling. It was clear she was referencing what happened to her a few days ago.

Heeseung had now gotten closer, sitting right next to you. You both hadn’t talked about what happened that night, leaving unspoken words in the air. Though you both had eased in the awkwardness and got to talking a lot, not minding the two drunkards. 

“She’s so funny when she’s drunk.” You laughed at her state.

“Beomgyu’s worse.” Heeseung added in. 

“They make a good match.” You said, sighing at their foolishness. Heeseung smiling along with you.

A few hours, closer to midnight. Seori and Beomgyu were passed out, only leaving you two up to witness going into the new millennium. 

“It’s almost midnight.” You pointed out, as crowds started to appear at the sighting for the fireworks, you intently watched it through the small tv you had in your room. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung replied, his voice low and soft. 

“Hey listen, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day.” He said, making you go back to the night of Christmas Eve, the thought leaving a fresh mark in your mind.

You turned to look at Heeseung who was already staring at you with his bambi eyes. 

“I think this is long overdue,” He sighed. “But I just wanted to tell you that I like you, a lot. More than just a friend. You’re really pretty and you’re such a dork, it makes me go crazy.” He slightly chuckled, making you smile at his silly speech. 

“I mean every single word I say. I don’t think I can start the new year by not telling you how you make me go crazy.” He softly said.

You had no words.

You realised you couldn't make up a small speech like his. It felt like too much to say. You had been pushing away your feelings for him, because you were too into Beomgyu’s handsome face. But after him opening your eyes wide, you realised the pretty boy sitting next to you was all you could ask for your new year’s wish. You looked at him through your eyelashes, your mouth slightly agape. 

You just wanted to kiss him.

So why not?

You leaned in, ever so slightly. You kissed him. The world outside seemed to slowly fade away. The countdown on the tv and the gentle snores from Seori and Beomgyu served as background noise. You could practically hear your heartbeat along with Heeseung’s. You could feel the slight taste of soju as his warm lips pressed against yours, his hand slowly reached its way to the back of your neck to pull you in closer. It felt like his lips against yours was the only thing that mattered.

3! 2! 1!

The fireworks started.

The kiss started in 1999 and ended in 2000, the clock struck twelve as the new year came in. You pulled away, exhaling that breath you didn't know you held in. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, as he finally cracked a smile.

“I like you too, alot.” You looked at him, he rested his forehead against yours. “Guess I fell for the wrong best friend.”

“I guess I fell for a dork.” He joked, earning a slight tap on his chest by your hand. “At least, that dork is mine, I hope.”

“I’d love to be yours, Hee.” 

Heeseung smiled at that, pecking you quickly. “Happy new year, dork.”

“Happy new year, Seung.” You replied, emotions filling you full.

He found his way to your lips again, kissing you with a tighter grip, and in that moment, you finally caught him—you weren’t letting the boy go anywhere. The boy who intimidated you at first, who called you a dork and now his, who cleaned your wounds and gave you piggyback rides. The boy who was your first love, now leaving him to adore you.

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