#one of the most pivotal times of my life.

[archive-of-wax]

I don't even know where to start with my love for this post, I've literally been rereading it over and over all day. This is by far the best interpretation of Trudy's parenting I've ever seen. It really captures the complex family dynamic we see onscreen with the twins, both with their mother and each other.

It's easy to focus on Trudy's evident abuse of Bo in the opening scene, but I think this is the first time I've seen anyone really analyse her interaction with Vincent. It's also one of the few times I've seen anyone speculate about his perspective or thoughts regarding his mother and her parenting, and I think you're spot on. Vincent wasn't showered with unconditional love while Bo got constant abuse. He was smothered with overbearing attentiveness that probably caused more issues than it fixed. Helicopter parenting certainly lines up with many traits fans have inferred from Vincent's portrayal, such as perfectionism, overdependence, and an anxious disposition.

I also felt that his perception of their mother wasn't as idolised as Bo's, and would go as far as to say that during his and Bo's kitchen convo I felt a hint of...exhasperation? Even weariness. At Trudy, at Bo's idolised view of her that he seemingly can't reject out loud, maybe even the purpose of their murderplot. I always imagined his feelings towards her to be something like 'I love you but please stop I'm begging you, why are you like this, why can't you be better for us', and I feel like part of that frustration came from knowing that none of the hovering and fussing was ever really for him as much as it was for her to feel better about herself, so any conversation about his feelings on the matter would have been pointless. If not immediately dismissed it would have just caused an argument, and this family has enough of those already, right? No need to rock the boat.

I have also never seen that newspaper clipping about Victor?! Could I ask where you found it? It completely throws loads of backstory theories out the window. Your version makes the lead-up to the murderplot make so much sense too. Bo and Vincent didn't just wake up one day and choose violence for no reason, but rather the pressure slowly built up: their father passing, the mill shutting down and all the jobs disappearing, then the town's inhabitants leaving, and lastly their mother's death. I imagine they found themselves alone in their now dead hometown, feeling washed up, lacking the practical and social skills to set off on their own (Vincent in particular), grieving the most pivotal person in their lives, and fit to burst with rage at the world. With their minds already cracked from their upbringing, and nothing to lose, it's easy to imagine how one thing led to another...Maybe some lost jackass gets a little too cocky with Bo at his mechanic shop, a fight ensues, Bo doesn't quite pull his punches like he knows he should and accidentally kills him. And then all it takes is a 'Yes, I know this is bad, Vince, but listen. You know how you've been having trouble sculpting like mama used to...?'

Anyway yes all this is to say this was a fantastic read! Thank you for sharing your thoughts, hope you don't mind me going on a mad ramble on your post haha. (Also could I ask you to link that study of a similar conjoined case? I've been looking for a real life counterpart to the twins' condition and could not find one for the life of me!)

Trudy refills Vincent’s cereal. He’s 2-3 years old and blind in one eye. He doesn’t need more cereal, he just needs his bowl rotated so he can see the cereal that was left over on his blind side. Not that we necessarily know how Vincent communicates without speech, but she hardly gives him time to answer her question about more before she’s refilling the bowl anyways. This is her approach to parenting her boys in general.

There’s no interest in fixing their actual issues. Rather than help Vincent to see what he already has in front of him, she’d rather add more, inadvertently also adding more onto the side he can’t see. At some point, this would just add to the issue. Overcompensation into overwhelm. Bo is brought in for breakfast kicking and screaming and it’s sort of evident why Trudy puts all her love into Vincent to the point of it being suffocating and unhelpful. Sure it could be a simple case of favoritism, but with the aspect of overcompensation specifically, it seems that she wants to balance her guilt over failing to parent one of her sons by pouring more effort than necessary into Vincent. Rather than giving the extra attention to Bo, it’s refilling a non-empty bowl of cereal.

I don’t think that necessarily mean she loves Vincent more. She finds him easier to parent. Fill the bowl whether or not he needs it because that’s easier than unpacking where Bo’s massive emotional outbursts are coming from. It seems more like love-bombing than genuine kindness. He’s “being such a good boy today,” but the implied part is an unsaid comparison to Bo. As twins, and conjoined twins at that, they’re not independent of each other. Vincent’s behavior exists only to contrast Bo’s, from her perspective. “Fix” his needs, and she can fix them both. Hence, preferring just to duct tape Bo to a chair than help him any.

Then Vincent grows up to become her protege, starting in his childhood but lasting until even after Trudy’s death. Over thirty years have passed since they were toddlers in those high chairs, but Bo gives a hint about why Vince got that ‘special privilege’ to not be as physically abused. “She always said that your talent would make up for what God took away from you.” Only, God didn’t take anything. Victor Sinclair doing illegal, unqualified surgery on his babies is why Vincent lost half of his face. Trudy only uses God’s name and religion as a shield for her own guilt about how her boys turned out. But it’s more likely she included Vincent in the wax business because she again, was dumping affection onto him over and over as her strategy.

Otherwise there isn’t as much favoritism between the boys. In their childhood photos, they both play piano, both play pool and baseball, both get to sit at the table with their birthday cake (without highchairs or bindings) and they play on the floor together. It's not entirely divisive between them, though it’s still obvious from which brother she’s slapping across his face and which brother she’s love-bombing which she’d prefer to deal with. Just not which she actually cares for more. Vincent wasn’t somehow spared from abuse in a house like the Sinclair household.

Interestingly, when Bo tells the story of Trudy and Victor, he mentions that once the Doc died, they were alone. Except, there’s at least one version of a prop newspaper stating that Trudy created a wax memorial for Victor. So this is just a false version of events most likely. Sure it could be that a decision changed, but there’s also the fact that, in the guns and ammo store, there’s a sign that says “Trudy’s Town or Wax.” And Bo tells Vincent, “We almost finished what mama started.” She’s also much older than the Trudy we see in the family photos and articles (even with the amount of cigarettes that woman smoked.) Ambrose is confirmed to have been abandoned for a decade, but to be turned into wax, Trudy would’ve had to die sometime between the abandonment of Ambrose and the present. Else she would’ve been properly buried most likely. The plan to fill Ambrose was hers, it’s just Bo that suggests using real humans (according to his apology to Vincent, he takes credit for the idea anyhow.)

Which makes her boys at least in their mid twenties when she died. In an older version of the script, Bo had killed her and Victor, but knowing it would put them all in foster care, that doesn’t quite make sense unless they were older. So the order of events is, Doc dying, the sugar mill closing, Trudy planning to reimagine Ambrose, and then dying herself.

The reason that’s important is because it’s emblematic of just how much pressure she was putting on both of her boys. And that’s not love. With two mentally ill, abused sons, (maybe three, since Lord only knows how they treated Lester once he came along,) that’s just manipulation. Victor and Trudy aren’t cartoon super villains for being bad to their boys. But when you can’t even just rotate a bowl slightly for your half blind little one, it’s shallow. Trudy has her cigarettes right in the boys faces in the opening and in most of the photos. Smoking was in one study linked to about 1/3rd of conjoined pregnancies, and in a similar case of conjoinment to the boys, one of the twins had lost an eye and had a prosthetic, but with minimal scarring because of the surgery being done in an actual legal hospital. It’s not about God taking anything, or about which is a little monsted and which is a very good boy- it’s about Trudy and Victor both messing up from the very beginning and causing the boys losses, then refusing to take accountability for it. Or, in the symbolic sense, to just do the right thing and turn a damn bowl of cheerios towards your blind kid.

[webg1rl]

"i wanna join the 4b movement but i still wanna date men"

disclaimer: my opinions, minimal research

ever since trump became president elect of the united states, the 4B movement has gained unprecedented momentum in the west — an infectious cesspool of overconsumption, under-education, anti-intellectualism, and glorified toddlers with university degrees.

the 4B radical movement was founded in south korea and centres around 4 basic Bs, or tenets: bihon (no marriage with men), bichulsan (no giving birth), biyeonae (no dating men), bisekseu (no sex with men).1

tweets about the 4B movement have gained traffic on twitter and continue to spark controversy in bootlicking, status-quo-loving, intellectually impoverished communities — one of the biggest being social media feminists. advocators of the 4B movement are flooded with comments such as:

“i want to join the 4b movement but i still wanna date men. how can i do that?”

you can’t.

“i have a husband and kids, can i join the 4b movement?”

you can’t.

“what am i supposed to do?”

easy. don’t join the movement.

contrary to popular assumptions, the 4B movement is, in fact, not for all women. as a matter of fact, it is, perhaps, not for most women. and that’s a truth we all have to sit down with. if you are going to whine about the 4B movement preventing you from finding your true love in the male species, then the movement is not for you.

let’s proceed with reason. if you are a woman who has already made a commitment to a man, then you will find yourself in conflict with the 4B movement. to ask that all women break up with their boyfriends, or divorce their husbands and leave their children behind is completely and unequivocally absurd. it’s not feasible. any reasonable feminist can and should understand that.

the undeniable truth of the matter is that our society is built upon heteronormative foundations. finding a romantic partner is one of the most basic goals in life. anyone who has lived and died without dating or engaging in romantic and/or sexual relations we find to be utterly crazy. and for straight women, the quest to fulfil that basic goal will almost always manifest in centring, even for a period in time, a man, which, at it’s very core, is antithetical to the principles outlined in the 4B movement.

feminism and the 4B movement are not synonyms. 4B is a movement within the larger political movement of feminism. not everyone can join it. you need to be in possession of incredibly strong willpower and an unquenchable drive to rebel against the institutions that have led to everything you were socialized to be. most women in our day and age, of our cozy backgrounds, don’t possess that kind of will.

at least not yet. and that is okay.

you are not less of a woman for dating a man or for being married to one. you’re not less of a woman for prioritizing your children or wanting to give birth. you can do all these things and still be a feminist. but the truth of the matter is that you will have no place in the 4B movement. and that, too, needs to be okay. disregarding these very basic fact risks discrediting and damaging a pivotal, and frankly quite necessary, radical movement without which change might remain a mythic term.

but before i sit here and coddle you (and myself), i’ll make one thing clear. change and comfort will never be parallel. as claire schwartz put it, change is a condition of both loss and growth. and growth does not come unaccompanied by growing pains. it is not comfortable to wake up at 7am to go running, but you do it anyway because this is how you get the body you want. it is not comfortable to spend the night studying, but you do it anyway because you desire a good career. it is not comfortable to make sacrifices for your children or your partner, or your family or your friends, but you do it anyway, because it is necessary to build strong relationships. the end of all this is to say, if you value something, you will make yourself uncomfortable by pursuing it.

but you’re right. it’s not just about comfort. lives may very well be at risk. and that is true but it’s not a valid excuse. yes, it will take years. yes, there will be failures dismal enough to make you give up. yes, you might lose your life. but if there is a slim chance that even in the furthest of my bloodlines, women will breathe the air of the free world then I find it a chance worth taking.

and if you cannot put your comfort, your ease, your love for the men in your life aside in exchange for liberation of women everywhere, women you don’t know, women you will never meet, women you don’t agree with then please just be honest. don’t pretend to care for women, don’t pretend to want change, and don’t you dare pretend to be a feminist. you will be discrediting the movement from the inside out.

and if enough women don’t care then the result will only and inevitably be that our suffering continues. or perhaps a generation much stronger and much braver than our one can pick up the fragments we left behind and achieve what we didn’t.

feminism isn’t about men and women being equal — that is the very law of nature, we are all born equal. feminism is about how we’re going to get there in a society functioning against that law. feminism is taking that society apart brick by brick and constructing one where freedom and equality will never be questioned.

————————--

1 Yi, Beh Lih (20 January 2020). "No sex, no babies: South Korea's emerging feminists reject marriage". Reuters. Archived from the original on 29 January 2021.

[astro-inthestars]

You know, i started reminiscing and i really miss my old Deltarune ask blog about Noelle Holiday, specifically Snowgrave Noelle.... We called her Snowelle. Missed her lots, so much so i ended up drawing this <3 Soooo, say hiii Snowellleeee!

[florbelles]

finished hera & started lady macbeth and we have got to start blaming women for shit again for real

[ruvi-muffin]

my grandmother is dead and i don't see a point to living anymore

Frankly i think that's a normal ass emotion to have bc my grandma's fckn dead

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

god i love gravity falls so much

[nomairuins]

my tags on that went on for so long i had to go back and edit them to fit tag limit and i still had to delete a bunch of them. Its the autism it literally is

[qqueenofhades]

I think its genuinely fascinating how Biden has somehow become the bad vibes sin eater for the party. I'm seeing people who were doing the whole "voting doesn't matter both old men are the same" pivot hard into voting as harm reduction. The anti voting rhetoric has COMPLETELY lost The Youths on tiktok. People suddenly remember the good things the Biden administration has done but don't associate Harris with any of the things they didn't like. In my swing state volunteers are signing up in droves. People feel ENERGIZED, the vibe shift pre and post Biden dropping from the race has just been insane

Y'know, that is a... good way of putting it. It's also why I'm quite sure that Biden has probably been planning it for a while. I don't think he was intending to step down, and didn't want to be forced out at the drop of a hat, but after he realized that the circus was never going to stop until he did, he did the honorable fall-on-his-own-sword thing and definitely, DEFINITELY spent some time choreographing this behind the scenes. Because while the roll-out has been very smooth, it could just as easily (as many of us were expecting) have been a total disaster, and that doesn't happen without SOME planning. It's also entirely possible that the campaign staff flipped from Biden to Harris are superhuman, to come up with a massive online roll-out, new branding, new signs (they had plenty of 'em in Wisconsin yesterday), new everything, but I'm guessing it's a combination of both. Biden has spent his entire political career being underestimated, and after we literally made a meme out of Dark Brandon juking the Republicans out of their shoes, we should definitely give credit where credit is due in how masterfully he pulled it off.

Because we have had eight years defined by the central question of Whether The President Is a God King Who Should Serve For Life (the MAGAts obviously think yes), the sheer idea of a president willingly giving up his power BEFORE he had to is also novel and admirable. It's sad that this is the case, but so be it. The Republicans also got a heaping helping of Be Careful What You Wish For that was undoubtedly brilliant; they've been yelling for years that Biden is old and frail and can't serve and should step down. Biden went "lol okay" and gave it to them, and now they're fucked.

Aside from that, on the most basic level, it's far, far easier to see the actual difference in the parties with Harris as the nominee, just because it shows that one party is willing to make progress and reflect the new demographic reality and social mores of America, and the other one is not. Now to be clear, Biden deserves an incredible amount of credit for coming out of retirement (he was ALREADY 77 years old when he became president and had had decades of a long and respected career in public service behind him) to fight, beat Trump, and deliver an incredibly successful presidency. He held the line against authoritarianism at home and abroad, he rescued the trashed American economy and managed a world-leading recovery from Covid, he stood up for democracy, he spent four years filling the benches with liberal judges to reverse even some of the Trump/McConnell hack job, he finally passed comprehensive infrastructure investment and the Green New Deal under the name of the Inflation Reduction Act -- and so on. Many of these priorities had been languishing for decades or were completely trashed under Trump, and he could not have done so much in just 4 years without all that age, skill, and experience. Hence why all the Ageism!!! was (aside from being a Republican/media smear job) dumb. He's able to do the job because he has had decades to study. Turns out that makes you actually pretty damn good at it.

Yes, Biden could not do as much as he wanted or originally planned, had to deal with MAGA Republicans and Joe Manchin/Kyrsten Sinema sabotaging him the whole time (lololol Manchin, possible possessor of the World's Biggest Ego and with Trump around that's saying something, popping out of obscurity to self-righteously announce he would not be willing to be Kamala's VP. YEAH ASSHOLE. LITERALLY NOBODY ASKED YOU. NOBODY WHATSOEVER. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS AT LEAST WE WILL SOON NO LONGER HAVE MANCHIN IN THE SENATE). And yes, Biden made some serious mistakes of his own, because he IS from an older generation and a different style of doing politics/different beliefs that no longer resonate with the younger segments of the electorate. But this old white Catholic guy at the age of almost 80 still managed to be the most progressive president ever, coming in at a moment of incredible domestic and international crisis and getting us safely to the other side, and all cynicism, criticizing, and caveating aside, he deserves an incredible amount of credit for that. I mean that absolutely, and I am very grateful.

As I said, willingly relinquishing that power takes guts, and when Biden saw the writing on the wall that he had to sacrifice himself, he took his time, he didn't jump too early, and he didn't jump too late. On the most basic level, it becomes a hell of a lot easier to make the "both parties are not the same" argument when one is running a (comparatively) young brown woman and the other is still running their loathed felonious old demented orange traitor. Most Americans are not plugged into policy minutiae and details. They look at Biden-Trump, they see two old white guys. When you take one of those old white guys away (who goes in a self-sacrificially heroic manner and in sharp contrast with the coup-happy fascist) and put Kamala Harris in there instead, it generates an obvious jolt. People can see for themselves that there is a real difference that doesn't rely on closely reading news and tracking complex policy, because as noted, most Americans simply don't. The brown first-generation American daughter of brown immigrants is a quantifiably different story from "old white guy career politician," which for better or worse is how Biden was seen, especially the old part. We needed that establishment expertise to beat Trump in 2020; I still think Biden is the only one who could have done it, and as noted, we owe him a great debt for doing so.

However.... 2024 is not 2020, and it is not 2016. There has been this HUGE and unbelievable swing to Kamala because she represents the antithesis of what the last eight years of Trump-induced anger, fear, panic, chaos, and hatred has stirred up. That's why people are so ready to rally around her, just as they were (I daresay) around Obama in 2008, after the exhaustion, chaos, war, and mounting economic misery of Bush. Trump has been out of office for the last four years, but his shadow over the American political landscape has been omnipresent. Now people know that we finally have a real chance at getting rid of him forever, and just as Biden was uniquely positioned to capitalize on that in 2020, so Harris is now. Which is why, however tough it will be, she has a real shot at winning. I can guarantee the Republicans know that, and are shit scared. Because the Black Lady Army of Democracy has indeed arrived in force to Get This Shit Done and I don't know about you, but I found that incalculably comforting:

Yikes! All lined up for Kamala pic.twitter.com/Dt4OCDp7WX

— Alex Cole (@acnewsitics) July 24, 2024

This, at the most basic level, is what scares fascists the most, it's exactly what we need now, and what Harris is uniquely positioned to mobilize, along with her gangbusters appeal to young voters:

This is the energy we need. This is what Biden saw and planned for and which he launched us into, and where all that experience and age paid off. This is why people, even people otherwise disengaged, disillusioned, or checked out of the tedious and mind-numbering drudgery and depression of American politics, are responding to it. Because it's easy to understand, it offers hope, and it tells a very simple story that is nonetheless long overdue:

Thanks so much, Joe. Go absolutely waste that orange fucker, Kamala. We got your back.

[pepperyduck]

growing old with kento nanami

word count: 2.8k

warnings: post-shibuya arc, descriptions of: surgery, recovery processes, depression, insomnia, trauma, therapy, coping mechanisms; pregnancy, marriage, crying. (18+ mdni!)

notes: this WILL have a part 2 and maybe 3! it will be very long so i'm splitting it up. even though the warnings seem kind of sad i promise it's a happy story :)

part 2 | masterlist

“marry me.”

proposing to you was nanami’s first conscious thought after being in a coma for 5 days after shibuya. you were reading a book, peacefully keeping him company in his hospital room, not even noticing he was awake. your eyes fluttered up from your book, back down, and then up again.

“marry me, please,” he repeated. you stayed silent for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping. he wasn’t supposed to wake up.

“kento, oh my god,” you yelped, dropping your book and rushing to the hospital bed to look at him. his eyes were open, only slightly, and the weakest smile he could bear rested on his lips. you gently settled your hands on each side of his face, barely hovering over the charred skin. he looked so tired, and yet, he was asking you to marry him.

kento groaned when you hugged him, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you squeezed him gently and with care. a weak hand rested on your back, in between your shoulder blades. he was too weak to repeat his question again. but the only thing on his mind was if you would be his wife.

“yes, yes, i’ll marry you,” you cried into his chest, wetting the fabric of the hospital clothing.

neither you nor nanami himself understood why he proposed to you in that moment. after waking up, his journey to recovery began with slow but steady progress. it took several months of intense rehabilitation and support from both sorcerers and doctors for him to regain his mobility. with their help, he was able to walk and move with a surprising degree of agility, nearly returning to how he was before shibuya. he also had a few cosmetic surgeries, in an attempt to minimize the scarring from all he had been through. within a few months, he was able to see his skin smooth out and hair grow from the side of his head. he wouldn’t look the same, ever; but you didn’t care. you loved kento, as he did you, the fact you were able to celebrate his recovery made you feel like the luckiest woman on the earth.

the loss of his previous strength and abilities weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over his spirits. yet, amidst the struggles, he found solace in small victories and the support of those around him, your support meaning the most to him. although kento was deeply troubled by the realization that he could no longer pursue his life as a sorcerer, he came to accept it as the best possible outcome given the circumstances. this acceptance marked a pivotal shift in his perspective, allowing him to focus on rebuilding his life in new ways. before he turned in his resignation, he had made sure to recommend ino for a promotion. it was his last wish as a sorcerer.

after the almost year-long recovery process, kento surprised you with a beautiful ring, one of the ones you had talked about before he went on his trip. he proposed again, in the place you first met, this time without weak hands and barely audible words. he was able to find a job, one not nearly as draining as his job from before he returned to jujutsu – and began making plans for your wedding. the planning process didn’t take long, he wanted the wedding to make you happy.

your and kento’s wedding was outright beautiful. it was a stunning venue on a beach, hundreds of guests attended, friends and family alike. kento shed a few tears when he saw you walking down the aisle, clad in the most gorgeous attire he’d ever seen you wear, as his bride. his voice shook as he said his vows – vows that he wrote, almost a good 1,000 words – and he made you a million promises. promises he wouldn’t dare to break, promises to grow old together and live the life you both deserve.

at the reception, you told kento you had a surprise for him, and ran off to go get something from one of your bridesmaids. he was confused at first, because he didn’t need any more surprises, he was the happiest he’d ever been. a newlywed, married to you. but when you came back to the table, two small pieces of paper in your hands, he didn’t think it would be possible to be more joyous.

“we’re going to malaysia, for our honeymoon, kento,” you excitedly told him, showing off the two plane tickets scheduled in a week.

nanami was speechless, a huge smile with teeth plastered across his face, and he gave you the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone.

when the two of you traveled to malaysia, kento was at peace. he had never seen a place so charming and breathtaking, he remained entranced by the culture and landscapes. the two of you spent your time hiking in nature, watching waterfalls and having lovely picnics wherever felt right. kento was so ecstatic, a smile constant on his face as he watched his surroundings with never-ending wonder. he thanked you a million times over.

you had never seen him be so alive. he promised you that one day, he was going to build a house, right on the beach, just for the two of you.

once you were back at your shared apartment, the reality of the past year and a half hit kento like a train. so much time had been spent recovering, constantly in and out of the hospital, planning for your wedding and improving both of your lives, he never had a chance to reflect on the genuine trauma he went through.

you didn’t notice for a while, but kento grew depressed, and restless at the same time. he began to spend his nights awake, insomnia brewing like piping hot tea, staying conscious until the early hours of the morning, doing any exercise or meditation to calm himself down and go to sleep. yet the visuals replayed over, and over, and over. the blood, the curses, the flames, the death. it hadn’t bothered him before, he thought, but he just never gave himself the time to soak it all in. and the depression – the depression was an all-new low for him. when kento wasn’t working, he was at his house, in the bed, while you were working or off running errands. you only noticed his new behavior when you woke up in an empty bed at 4 a.m. one night, 3 months after your honeymoon.

“mm…kento?” you called, footsteps heavily plopping down the hallway towards the bright lights of your kitchen. when you entered the room, you saw kento sprawled out on the floor, knees bent, with sweat rolling down his forehead. stepping over towards him, you kneeled down to look at him, and his head rolled to the side to look at you, too.

kento’s eyes looked so tired, the eyebags you hadn’t seen in years were full-fledged, his eyelids were droopy and exhausted. just by the emotion his eyes conveyed, you could see he was silently suffering, and he had been that way for a while.

“kento, what’s wrong?” you asked, bringing a hand to the side of his face to rub a thumb over his sweat-glistened cheek.

“i don’t…know,” he replied, defeat in his voice, “i can’t sleep. i haven’t slept. i don’t know.”

your husband always had a plan. he always knew everything; he always took care of the unknown and intimidating parts of life. for kento nanami to say “i don’t know” meant something was wrong, seriously wrong.

“sit up,” you softly demanded, gently pulling his shoulders off the floor. you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and kento mirrored your actions, slumping when he finally sat up. “kento, honey,” you began, taking his hand in yours and resting it on his knee, “what’s going on?”

he was never one to talk about feelings, to talk about emotions felt deep down, because he wasn’t sure how to convey anything that would make him vulnerable. but as he sat in front of you, chest slightly heaving, such a burnt-out expression on his face, you knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but that something needed to be said.

“i can’t…” kento muttered, stopping himself for a second, “i can’t stop thinking.” he finally admitted, causing you to furrow your eyebrows with concern.

“about what, honey?” you sweetly asked, thumb caressing the back of his hand, tenderly rubbing back and forth.

“everything.” he stated, eyes flashing away from you to look at the floor next to him. you knew what he meant, though, but you had never seen him so pained from his work, especially from something that happened so long ago.

“tell me, baby,” you soothed him. you grabbed his other hand, causing him to look back at you pitifully. kento stayed silent for numerous moments, unsure as to what you could handle. but you were his wife, someone he was supposed to be able to confide in.

“so many people…died…” he mumbled, “i almost died. i saw what it looked like, i faced death.” his words began to come out quicker, “i’ve never seen that many people die, not even in shinjuku, and there was so much blood, and gojo almost, he almost-,” kento’s voice began to get shaky and uneven, a crack in his words as tears stung his eyes. “gojo almost died, too, and…i almost died, i saw it,” he repeated, “and yuuji – looked so upset, and takuma got hurt,” he clenched his eyes shut, words still coming out as a single string.

you moved closer, shifting onto your knees and wrapping kento in a comforting embrace. he clung to you immediately, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if trying to anchor himself in reality. his body shook with the intensity of his sobs, each breath coming in ragged gasps. the rawness of his anguish was palpable; his cries were filled with a pain that seemed almost too immense to bear. the image of the carnage replayed in his mind, a relentless cycle that he couldn’t escape. kento’s tears soaked through your shirt, repeating with his incoherent murmurs of horror. his face, once so composed, now twisted in an expression of deep, unrelenting despair.

kento wailed into your chest for hours that night, unable to stop his shuttering and repetition of the same phrases. he only calmed down when the sun began to rise, slowly illuminating the insides of your home. once kento parted his head from your chest, he looked you in the eyes, asking for help without saying a word. you wiped away his tears and grabbed the sides of his face, promising him you will get him anything he needs. kento fell asleep around 7 a.m. that morning, with the help of you running your fingers through his hair, shushing him and telling him it will all be okay.

he believed you. kento nanami put all his faith in you, his wife, to help him fix his problem he hadn’t an idea on how to mend. and so, you did everything in your power to help him. you spent countless hours on research, finding therapists that specialized in helping people like him, and you came across different mechanisms to help him cope. most of all, you continued your duties as a supportive wife, constantly telling him to get up and go to the supermarket, or out to the library. little by little, these smaller things combined together to work out, and kento began to get better. it was a breath of fresh air, as well as a weight lifted off both your and his shoulders, when he began to smile again, and shifted his view of life to a more positive outlook. he was alive, he began to feel alive again.

kento nanami was finally beginning to live the life he desired and deserved, all with you by his side.

a couple of weeks after kento’s 30th birthday, you came rushing into his office, tears of joy — and anxiety — pricked in your eyes. soon as his eyes landed on your seemingly upset expression, he was concerned.

“what’s wrong, dear?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the desk to stand up. you quickly closed the door behind you, leaning against it, and you dug around in your purse to pull out a small plastic baggie. when you tossed them to kento, it only took him a few seconds to realize what you were there to tell him.

“…you’re pregnant?” kento beamed, rushing over to you to wrap his arms around your waist. he quickly lifted you up in the air, grip so tight as if he never wanted to let go, your feet kicked happily.

kento always wanted to have kids, but being a sorcerer, he always thought it was too dangerous. you had some conversations about it after shibuya, and the both of you agreed that if it happened, it happened. and your children would have the best life possible, of course; but the glimmer of hope you had for having kids slowly burnt out over time with both of you increasing in age. in that moment, though, kento had so much hope and pure happiness, just at the thought of growing a little family with you.

the first few months of your pregnancy were hectic. between doctor’s appointments, mixed with morning sickness and fatigue, you thought it would never end. although you were happy to start a family, negative emotions easily overcame you, and kento noticed. he tried his best to be there for you, but his work schedule conflicted with your lives, and he soon realized he needed a change in his life. he needed to change your life and his, because he would be damned if he was going to return to the same boring life as he had before.

using his savings and bonus money from his job, he bought you a house. a real house, with acres of land and space for your family to grow, so much bigger than the previous apartment you shared with him. a house that he owned, a house that would contain all the joy for your future. he made sure it was grand, with a huge kitchen, and multiple bedrooms – not caring if only two of them were filled, or if all of them housed someone. before kento showed you the house, he set up a nursery.

“where are we going?” you inquired for about the 50th time that day. you had been in the car for hours, and all kento would say in return is, “you’ll find out.” nonetheless, you were excited, kento had always given you the best surprises, but you had never driven so far with him.

“we’re here.” kento stated, pulling into an empty concrete driveway big enough to fit 6 cars.

“where are we? did satoru move?” you asked, the huge display of a home proving to be a bit intimidating for you. kento didn’t reply this time, he only scurried out of the car to come and open your door, helping you get out with a kind hand.

you didn’t even understand what was going on until you walked up the front steps, and a few keys jingled in kento’s hands until he found the right one to unlock the door. the door to your new home.

“wait...wait. kento,” you said, standing still as your husband strode inside, “what is this?” the familiar tears of joy rushed to your eyes, and you just stood there with a shocked expression plastered on your face.

“this is our new home, honey,” kento chimed, reaching a hand out again to welcome you inside. you took his hand, albeit a little hesitantly, and stepped inside your house.

“oh, kento,” you blubbered, throwing your arms around his neck, tears beginning to trickle down your face.

you and kento explored the house for hours, marveling at all the space and beauty he bought for you. you thanked him a million times over, crying at each new space you discovered in the house, you felt sheer gratefulness for your husband and all he did for you. and kento, well, he did all of it to thank you, to thank you for never losing hope in him, and to thank you for the joy you’d made him experience. he was so undeniably in love with you, just as he had always been, and he promised himself he was going to do everything in his power to live the life he deserved with you. he was going to live up to every word he made in his vows, every promise he made with you, each and every word he had spoken to you was going to show in your lives.

even from the moment he met you, he knew he was going to spend his life with you.

taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @cherriee-ee @starlightanyaaa @lagataprrr @hazzelle-kento

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[eeridyllic]

MANEATER

kinich x saurian! reader

cw: no pronouns. reader is an ancient sealed saurian much like ajaw but you’re in your human form all the time. flirting and makeout. 3.5k words. not proof-read.

There were a lot of adjectives Kinich could use to describe you. Irritating would be the first, though it barely scratched the surface. 

You were cunning, nosy, and far too pleased with yourself. He could have gone his entire life without meeting you and slept soundly at night. You enjoyed testing his patience, dancing around with that sharp smile as if you knew something he didn’t. 

In your eyes, everything seemed like a game—a tiresome one, at that, with endless rules Kinich had no interest in learning. His life had been simpler—at least—before you’d come along; before your mocking laughter, your constant, uninvited insights, and that way you had of observing him, as though he were an oddity you couldn't quite figure out, or a mere prey to hunt. 

But despite everything, there was no ignoring that you had added a strange new rhythm to his days.

The memory pulled him back to that pivotal moment—the point where, he realized now, everything had shifted. 

______________________________________________

He and Ajaw had been partners for some time already, surviving one mission after another. So when another one arrived, promising a huge payment in exchange for exploring ancient ruins, Kinich barely batted an eye. The contractor was vague and evasive about the reasons, claiming he needed a specific artifact hidden within. Suspicious, maybe. But money was money.

Navigating the ruins was a gauntlet. Kinich lost count of the traps, the decaying pillars that threatened to collapse with each step, the puzzles and mechanisms clearly designed to keep intruders out. The place was a maze of broken stone and silent challenges, yet he felt a familiar surge of satisfaction with each step deeper into the heart of the ruin.

At last, he reached a final chamber, where the object of his commission stood on a dais—a fragment of the past unlike any he’d seen before, emanating a strange energy that felt older than time itself. It was no wonder his contractor had wanted it, though Kinich couldn’t begin to guess what it was for.

The moment his hand brushed the relic, a surge of ancient power pulsed through the room. Ajaw, strangely quiet but ever alert, shifted beside him, his eyes narrowing with a cautious awareness. And then, from the shadows, a voice drifted through the room, light and smooth with an undercurrent of menace.

“Well, well. Another little human wandered in.”

Kinich whirled, looking around through the darkness of the place for the source of the voice, when he finally met you.

The figure before him was both mesmerizing and unnervingly unnatural. Even as he felt his guard rise, there was no denying you were the most otherworldly, hauntingly beautiful being he had ever seen. But your draconic eyes betrayed your true nature. You were one of Ajaw’s kind, another ancient sealed entity—alive and as dangerous as the power coursing through the chamber.

Ajaw stirred, his presence crackling with a familiar hostility. “Hunf. Long time no see, (Y/N),” he greeted you, his tone a blend of wary sarcasm and grudging acknowledgment. 

You met his words with a raised brow and an amused smile.

“My, you’re still alive, Ajaw? And leaning on humans above all. How unfortunate,” you replied dryly, crossing your arms. Ajaw grumbled irritated earning a gaze from Kinich who was watching your interaction with almost amused interest. 

“So, human”, you said, your voice edged with a touch of boredom as you sat on a rock, “What do you want with me? What’s the plan? Drag me off to that contractor of yours perhaps?”

Kinich maintained his composure, though he was a bit surprised by how you already knew the reason why he stepped into your domain.

Without further ado, the hunter started to explain the details of his commission—he was the first, but surely he wouldn’t be the last either. 

The moment he finished, your expression twisted, a flicker of disdain evident.

“As if I’d go along with that. Typical mortals, always seeking what they don’t understand, eager to trap things they have no right to touch,” you hissed, earning a followed amused chuckling from Ajaw. 

You paused, the resentment burning in your chest, however, Kinich noted there was something else too as your eyes lingered on him.

Leaving your throne behind and stepping forward, your presence filling the space between all three of you. 

“I have a proposition for you only, though. A contract, let’s call it,” your smile was both inviting and taunting. “We’ll work together, for our mutual benefit. To be frank it is more for my selfish desire than to help you. I’m tired of talking to walls, you see,” your eyes traveled through his body before meeting his gaze again, “Surely, you wouldn’t want to go back with nothing, right?”

Kinich weighed your words carefully, his mind racing through the possibilities and costs. 

He already bore the weight of a pact with Ajaw, and he understood the price of balancing multiple contracts with creatures of such power. Yet the allure of your knowledge, your abilities, was too great to ignore.

Ajaw seemed to be on his edge, cursed both of you facing the absurdity of the offering and what it could bring. 

Nevertheless, Kinich’s mind was set already. With a final, steady breath, he nodded, sealing his decision. Your eyes flashed with a glint of satisfaction, your smirk widening into something altogether dangerous, seductive. You leaned on his ear, your voice dropping to a near-whisper.

“I look forward to working with you, Kinich.”

______________________________________________

That day, Kinich hadn’t earned a paycheck. However, he hadn’t left the ruins empty-handed, either.

From then on, his life became a delicate balance of managing two unpredictable forces. Ajaw, with his bristling sarcasm and an unending appetite for murder, had been challenging enough on his own. But adding you, with your teasing demands and cryptic ways, turned Kinich’s daily life into a finely tuned exercise in patience.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks to months with Kinich adapting himself to the peculiar rhythms of his two ancient companions. 

Ajaw kept volatile, ever-ready to lend his power with a razor-thin line between aid and sabotage. Kinich could call on his abilities freely; but each time, the pixelated dragon took the chance to push him to his limit, toying with him like prey and testing the boundaries of their contract.

You, however, were different. Your contract was filled with stipulations, each one more elusive than the last. Kinich could request your power, your wisdom on ancient lore and mystical ruins, your understanding of secrets hidden for centuries—but each favor required a price. 

He remember the first time he’d needed your help, you smiled wide and said, “Fetch me a Cecilia.”

At first, Kinich hadn’t thought much of it—a flower, seemingly simple enough. Then he realized that Cecilias only bloomed on the cliffs of Mondstadt, a land far from Natlan. And anyone leaving Natlan without permission of the Wayob risked losing themselves, a curse bound by ancient magic. 

That he’d managed to find one spoke to his sheer stubbornness, his ability to navigate through obstacles that should have been impossible.

When he’d finally placed the flower in your hand, your satisfaction had been infuriatingly clear.

It was never straightforward with you. Another time, he’d requested a map of an old ruin rumored to be full of hidden dangers. In return, you’d demanded a simple luxury—a crystal pendant, clear as water, something you could admire as you traveled through dark caves and shadowed forests. A trivial thing, but your smile as you held the pendant was somehow worth the trouble.

Through it all, Kinich found himself unwillingly entangled in your games, constantly navigating the space between the three of you, keeping a balance that was tenuous at best. And even as you continued to provoke him with your playful, cutting comments, he found himself grudgingly relying on you.

There were commissions where you proved to be an invaluable ally. Your intelligence was formidable; your strategies were sound, your insights swift, and you saw through traps that Kinich sometimes missed. Your pride might have been infuriating, but your strange loyalty, he realized, was something rare. 

You kept him on his toes with your challenging personality, pushing him to improve even as you drove him to distraction. And on rare nights, after a long day’s journey or a grueling fight, you’d sit in silence, the air between you calm and oddly comfortable. There were times, with the firelight flickering and casting shadows on your face, that he found himself almost… dazzled.

If he had to do it all over again, he wouldn’t have done it differently. Not that he’d ever admit it to you.

Now, back to present on yet another commission, Kinich found himself partnered with you once more. 

Ajaw had declared the mission too dull to follow, muttering something about it being more suited to “(Y/N)’s ridiculous logic puzzles” than to his taste for battle. Kinich was grateful for the reprieve, though he knew the real challenge would be handling your endless demands and your habit of testing his patience.

You were intelligent and efficient, he could admit that much, but your sharp wit and flirtatious ways were exhausting. You never missed an opportunity to prod at him, to see if you could break through his carefully constructed guard.

As you two moved deeper into the cave, Kinich couldn’t help but feel your eyes on him, watching for every reaction, every flicker of emotion. 

You’ve made a sport of it, brushing close, a sly smile playing on your lips whenever you sensed his irritation, always aiming to get under his skin. And yet, you had an uncanny sense of his well-being. You’d sidestep a trap just in time, then look back to ensure he’d done the same. It was an odd, unspoken protection, one that both irritated and relieved him.

The ruin was as treacherous as any he’d encountered, with more than a few puzzles that made Kinich silently grateful for your presence. You disarmed traps, deciphered carvings he’d never have managed, and stepped through mazes with a precision that bordered on the supernatural. And though you complained all the way through, your pride and determination drove you to succeed.

You both just completed the commission, retrieving the artifact you’d come for, when you turned to him, wiping the dust from your hands. You gave him an amused look, a glint of mischief in your eyes.

“Well,” you started, your tone laced with that familiar teasing edge. “We’re done here.”

He nodded, grateful for the relative quiet that would follow—until you tilted your head, regarding him thoughtfully. “You’ve been awfully quiet today, Kinich. More than usual. A mora for your thoughts?”

Your tone was light, almost offhand, but your gaze was anything but casual. Something was probing in the way you looked at him, as though searching for an answer he hadn’t voiced. The saurian hunter held your gaze, his own expression carefully neutral, as he considered his response.

He stood still, his gaze lingering. Kinich told himself it was merely to study your expression, to gauge your intentions. But his mind betrayed him, tracing the fine details of your face—from the sharp line of your jaw to the glint in your dragon-like eyes and the slight curve of your lips that seemed forever on the edge of a knowing smile. Your beauty was the kind that defied logic, pulling him in even as he resisted.

“It’s nothing,” he replied finally, his tone measured, distant. He turned, motioning for the two of you to leave. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

But you didn’t follow. Instead, you remained where you were, arms folded, head tilted to one side as if you’d only just begun to consider something. The look you gave him was a little too knowing, the glint in your eyes far too familiar. He knew that look of yours. Most of times it meant only thing one: problem.

“Kinich,” you said, a slow smile spreading across your lips. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

The hunter stopped, exhaling slowly as he turned to face you. His eyes narrowed. You were up to something—that much was clear. You had that dangerous, cat-like look about you, your gaze dark and sharp, as though sizing him up, anticipating his every move. He lifted an eyebrow, his voice a shade more cautious than he’d intended.

“And what would that be, (Y/N)?” he asked.

For a moment, you didn’t reply. Instead, you took a single step closer, your eyes never leaving his. He felt his pulse quicken, though he kept his expression blank.

You moved toward him slowly, a faint, predatory gleam in your eyes. You were close now, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from your skin, and could catch the hint of some exotic scent lingering in the air. A blend of something earthy and sweet, entirely unique to you.

Kinich steeled himself, forcing his mind to stay sharp, though he found himself captivated despite his best efforts. You paused just a breath away, your gaze flickering over him with the lazy, confident ease of someone who knew exactly the effect you had.

A hint of amusement crept into your smile. “It’s payback time,  Malipo”, you began, your voice low and smooth, laced with an almost sinister edge, “I’ve worked hard today, you see, so I’m feeling a bit… greedy.”

His eyes narrowed further.

“What do you want, (Y/N)?”

You giggled. “Oh, I could ask for any number of things,” you took a deep sigh and started to circle him. “Power… influence… control of your soul, even.”

He remained quiet. Your smile widened at his lack of reaction, your teeth flashing in the dim light of the ruins. You were enjoying this, taking your time, savoring every second as if you were unwrapping a carefully chosen gift.

“But…,” you murmured, drawing the word out, “I think I’m more fond of something else.” You paused, letting the silence build, each second stretching as you watched him, relishing his quiet wariness.

Finally, your eyes locked with his, and you spoke with deliberate slowness. “Kiss me.”

Silence.

For a moment, Kinich felt his mind go blank, his eyes widening briefly in stunned silence before he quickly regained control, his expression hardening. 

It had to be a game. Another one of your tricks, another way to unsettle him, to get under his skin. But your gaze didn’t waver, your expression calm, almost serene, though he saw the gleam of anticipation behind your eyes.

A dozen thoughts raced through his mind, each one colliding with the next. His heart hammered in his chest, the sound loud and unsteady, and yet he kept his face neutral, his stance calm. This was you, after all. You thrived on unsettling him, on watching him squirm—though he’d learned, over the months, never to give you the satisfaction of seeing his reactions.

But your eyes… you weren’t blinking, weren’t moving. You waited, utterly still, your lips curved into the faintest smirk as you watched him wrestle with himself. He almost thought he saw something genuine in your gaze, something more than the surface-level teasing, but he dismissed the thought quickly. You were you. Cocky, calculating—you had to be playing with him.

“Don’t tell me there’s something you can’t manage, Kinich,” you sighed, your tone equal parts challenge and mockery. “Well. That’s rather disappointing,” you turned, as if prepared to leave, already dismissing the moment with that same enigmatic smile.

Without fully thinking, Kinich’s hand shot out, catching you by the wrist. You stilled, surprise flickering across your face before you concealed it, though your eyes flashed with something he couldn’t name yet. 

For a heartbeat, you stood in silence, your pulse quick and light beneath his fingers. Slowly, he drew you toward him, his arm encircling your waist, anchoring you against him as his other hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

He exhaled a soft, reluctant sigh. “You’re nothing but trouble,” he murmured, his voice laced with resignation.

You only laughed softly, a sound that was both daring and pleased, and he could feel your smirk against his skin as he leaned down, finally pressing his lips to yours.

The first contact was a mere tentative brush, barely more than a fleeting touch between your mouths. It was a moment suspended in uncertainty, as though both were testing the boundaries of this unexpected closeness. 

For a breath, you held still, neither moving nor daring to deepen it. But something simmered beneath the surface, a quiet intensity that broke through the silence with an undeniable pull.

Before either could pull away, though, the kiss grew deeper, hungrier, an unspoken desire erupting between you two. 

Kinich’s hand tightened at your waist, pulling you closer, feeling the warmth of your body pressed to his. He could taste the faint, exotic sweetness of your lips as you yielded to him instantly, only to counter with your own ferocity. But it was when your lips parted that a dam seemed to break. 

Eagerly, Kinich took this opportunity and deepened the kiss, your tongues meeting in a dance of defiance and passion. There was a taste of something otherworld in you, a hint of mystery and danger that drew him in even as it warned him. But he ignored the caution, letting himself be consumed by the moment, by the heat, by the softness of your mouth against his, the way you met his every movement with your own, never yielding, never backing down.

It was a silent battle, a clash of wills and sublime frustration as each sought to take the lead, the kiss growing fierce and excited, your breaths mingling with a fervor you could no longer contain.

Your hands slid up from his chest, your touch lingering, savoring the feel of him as your fingers trailed up his neck and into his hair. You tugged slightly, demanding, as if daring him to give you more. Your fingertips were cool yet electric against his skin, igniting something primal, something he rarely let surface.

Kinich responded instinctively, his own restraint slipping as he pressed you back, guiding you toward the rough wall of the ruin. The space between you dissolved entirely as your back met the stone as he lifted you, the pressure of his body firm, claiming.

Your breaths grew heavier. Your hands gripped both his hair and shoulder, your nails lightly pressing into his skin. His hand slid from your waist, tracing the curve of your thighs and ass, pressing your body into his as though anchoring you there. Every inch of him was focused on you, on the feel of you against him, on the pulse of energy that crackled between you, too powerful to ignore.

When you finally broke apart, the world around seemed to settle, the heavy silence filling the air once more. 

Kinich’s breathing was ragged, his pupils wide, and dilated, his pulse still pounding with an intensity he rarely allowed himself to feel. He could feel the warmth of your breath still lingering close, your lips barely an inch apart, almost as if you were challenging him to give in again.

Your expression was slightly unfocused, your usual composure replaced by something vulnerable, exposed. Kinich caught himself enjoying this version of you. There was a faint flush across your cheeks, a look of astonishment that you quickly masked, though it didn’t disappear entirely. 

For a moment, neither of you spoke the weight of what had just happened hanging heavy, charged with unspoken thoughts, things that might have been, things neither of you would admit.

And then you chuckled softly, your voice laced with amusement, your lips curving into a smirk. “My,” you murmured, your tone both teasing and provocative, “I didn’t expect that. Although I can’t say I didn’t like it either.” You tilted your head, your eyes gleaming with a playful glint. “As always, it’s a pleasure to do business with you, Kinich.”

Kinich didn’t reply immediately, his gaze steady, his expression indecipherable, but there was a depth in his eyes that betrayed him, a lingering trace of something he couldn’t quite banish. 

With a sigh, he finally stepped back, putting a carefully measured distance between you. “Anytime,” he said, his voice low, raspy. “So? Let’s get out of here?”

He turned, giving you space to follow, his demeanor returning to its usual calm, composed state. 

Yet as he moved, he couldn’t ignore the lingering taste of you on his lips, the faint, intoxicating trace that refused to fade. The rational part of him knew this shouldn’t change things—that it couldn’t. You were tied by a pact, bounded by terms he should have expected. This was simply one of your “favors,” a twist you’d added, nothing more.

But as you left the ruins, a sense of awareness settled within him, the quiet realization that for all his caution, he’d succumbed, letting himself be drawn into your orbit, your game. It was dangerous, foolish even, to think this meant anything, to risk feeling for someone who thrived on unpredictability and cunning.

Even so, he couldn’t shake the way you had looked at him, the warmth of your touch, the sensation that still lingered, refusing to be dismissed.

And though he would bury it, push it away, he knew, somewhere in the depths of his guarded heart, that this would stay with him, a taste of something forbidden, lingering, marking him in a way he’d never intended.

[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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[pathologicalreid]

hello my new favorite tumblr writer 😇 i will b honest i have never requested anything before so!! bear with me. however the spencer reid brainrot is all too real SO would you be open to doing anything with a hotchner!fem!reader? bau or not for the reader! something something hotch is very hesitant about their relationship but maybe reader gets caught in the crossfire of something and hotch and prentiss see them together afterward and prentiss is like “that looks pretty real to me.” DOES THAT MAKE ANY SENSE OKAY I’M LEAVING NOW THANK YOUUUU 🫡

a father's daughter | S.R.

in which your father doesn't approve of your relationship, but who knows how he'll react when reid jumps into action after a threat against your life

who? spencer reid x hotchner!fem!bau!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, blood, stitches, hospitals, medical inaccuracy word count: 2.03k a/n: anon you are legendary. this is an incredible request and i am so honored to be your new favorite tumblr writer! i am an absolute sucker for anything hotchner!reader (or rossi!reader) so i absolutely ate this request up! (also if anyone wanted to drop a request in my inbox... it would be welcome)

Aaron Hotchner was the most professional person in the BAU, except when it came to you. You, like him, had gone to law school. You were a public defender for just a short time before being put into WITSEC, and when your mother died, you applied to the FBI Academy.

Plain and short, it was nepotism, but no one was going to argue with the man whose wife was murdered by a serial killer. Your dad wanted you in the BAU so he could keep an eye on you, and there was nothing Erin Strauss could do about it. What your father couldn’t control, was your relationship with Reid.

He could tell you that he didn’t approve, but so long as David Rossi, king of inter-bureau mingling, was around, he couldn’t actually do anything to stop you. “I’m just saying that I’ve never seen Reid be consistent with a relationship,” your dad said, having pulled you away from the team to, once again, try to warn you off of your relationship.

“He’s been pretty consistent for the last seven months,” you responded, rifling through the victims' files that were in your arms.

You started to make your way out of the empty office when your father spoke again, “And he’s too old for you.”

Stopping in your tracks, you pivoted and faced your father, “He’s three years older than I am, I’m twenty-six. That’s hardly an age gap to bat an eye at.” The two of you had always had a rocky relationship, he missed a large portion of your childhood due to this job and you always tried to not resent him for it.

Your parents’ marriage fell apart, neither of them handled it well, and you weren’t all that surprised. They had gotten married when your mom got pregnant with you because they thought that was what they were supposed to do, and when Jack couldn’t keep them together, everything fell apart.

“You have no right to lecture me on relationships, Agent Hotchner,” you snapped, staring him down. Daring him to challenge you.

He sighed, obviously trying not to lose his patience with you. “I’d just hate for you to find out you wasted your time on something that wasn’t real.”

The door behind you swung open, you spun on your heels to face Emily. “Sorry, uh, we have a location, Morgan’s coordinating with SWAT,” she said, looking between you and your father.

“Great, let’s go,” your father said, his parental demeanor falling away as his Unit Chief mask took its place.

You walked out the door to see the rest of the team, Rossi tossed you a Kevlar vest as you walked over to where Spencer was standing with the police chief, “Where are we headed?” You asked, undoing the Velcro on the vest and pulling it over your torso. The beige precinct was buzzing as agents and officers prepared to break into the UnSub’s home base. Hopefully to find his most recent victim still alive.

Reid reached over and adjusted the strap of your vest, making sure it was evenly tightened over your shoulders. “Garcia found a warehouse on the other side of town. It’s being rented out under an anagram of the first victim’s name,” he said, gently squeezing your arm before dropping his hands back to his side.

Nodding, you followed the rest of the team out the metal doors of the precinct and into the black SUVs. “Your UnSub’s name is Jonas Watts, he used a different name to rent the space but the account he uses to pay for it is under his name,” Garcia’s voice rang through the speaker as she told you about the perpetrator. “He checks every UnSub box we have, raised by a single father after his mother left, and… oh, multiple arrests for assault.”

You looked up to the driver’s seat, your dad was white-knuckling the steering wheel, entirely focused on driving as you listened to Garcia reciting the UnSub’s rap sheet.

When you arrived at the warehouse SWAT was already there and Morgan started organizing the tactical assault. Drawing your weapon, you nodded at your teammate when he instructed you to go around the back with himself and your father. Allowing Morgan to kick the door down, the three of you held your firearms up and began clearing the warehouse.

Further away, you heard Emily and Spencer clearing the front. “Clear, moving up,” you called into your radio as you approached the stairs, stepping on them carefully so they didn’t creak. On the landing, you looked at a trail of blood on the ground. “There’s a blood trail in the upper west wing,” you whispered.

“Move up, little Hotch, I’m right behind you,” Morgan responded.

Rolling your eyes at the nickname, one that you had begged him to stop using, you moved forward, keeping your firearm aimed right in front of you. Turning into the room that the blood trail led to, you immediately ducked when you saw a knife coming for you. Keeping your gun aimed, you faced down the UnSub, “Jonas Watts, FBI!” You announced yourself, scanning the room for the girl he took last night.

Watts shook his head, “You’re not supposed to be here! You can’t be here!” He shouted in distress.

“Where’s the girl, Jonas? Where did you take Isobel?” You asked him, not seeing her in the room the two of you were in. There was another entrance on the left of him.

He stepped toward you, and you cocked your gun, “I don’t have her now. I lost her, she’s lost,” he said, there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Unnerved, you decided to take a leap of faith, “Jonas, where’s your partner?” A partner hadn’t been part of the profile, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. The crimes were too complex, it didn’t match up with something as simple as using an anagram of a victim’s name for the warehouse rental.

Morgan filed in behind you, aiming his gun at Jonas, same as you. “Time’s running out, Jonas. If you tell us about your partner we can help you,” he said, slowly inching toward Watts.

“It’s too late,” Jonas wailed.

Someone knocked into you from behind, causing you to stumble forward before you were pulled to your feet. One arm was locked around your torso, and another was holding a knife to your throat. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll cut her fucking throat!” The unnamed man said from behind you, he was almost impossibly tall, easily overpowering you.

You didn’t dare move, not with that knife to your throat, one false move and you’d bleed out. Morgan shouted for him to let you go, but he just pressed the knife tighter to your neck, splitting the skin.

Shutting your eyes, you tried not to cry, fearing the damage it would do to your throat.

Your captor held you tightly to him, using your body to block Morgan from shooting. Something warm trickled down your collarbone, and you weren’t sure if it was blood or tears.

For a moment, you thought you could swing your foot back into his knee, but the fear of having your carotid cut outweighed your bravery.

Ever since you were a kid, you thought death would be quiet. Something you slipped into like sleep, but your death was loud, and it left your ears ringing.

The afterlife was the weirdest place you’ve ever been, someone was calling your name, and you heard your rights being read. Although, why you would need your Miranda Rights in the afterlife you had no idea.

“Angel, please open your eyes,” someone said.

Confused, you opened your eyes and saw familiar eyes staring down at you. Golden and bleary. Spencer, Spencer was here. You tried to sit up, but he held you down, keeping a hand on your throat.

Morgan was shouting for medical, saying there was an agent down. You turned your head to see the still unidentified UnSub on the ground, shot through the temple. Using his free hand to turn your chin, “Don’t look,” Spencer whispered. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, angel.”

If you weren’t still coming down from an adrenaline high, you might’ve smiled at the irony of the nickname. Being called ‘angel’ after having your neck cut felt like tempting fate.

Where was your dad? Of everyone here, you expected him to be here, barking orders at people.

As if summoned by your thoughts, your dad appeared, nearly hauling an EMT behind him, “Help her,” he said.

Yeah, that absolutely tracked.

The EMT’s packed your wound and assured everyone that your carotid had not been slit, against your protests, the ambulance brought you to the hospital for stitches. Emily had run to the hotel to get your go bag, allowing you to change out of your bloodied clothes.

Thankfully, the doctors said you didn’t need to stay overnight, meaning you and the team got to go home. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked while you were waiting to board the jet.

You hummed, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes, and leaning against a car, “Tired, but I’m alright.” Tired might have been underselling it, you felt like all of the energy had been physically drained from your body. “You worry too much,” you whispered, closing your eyes for just a moment. Your throat was a little raspy, but it should go back to normal after a couple of days.

“Your throat was cut about four hours ago, some might say I’m not worrying enough,” he responded, reaching down, and picking up your bag, carrying it over to the jet once they got the okay to board. On the jet, he gestured to the seat, “Lay down, get some rest.”

You furrowed your brows, “Isn’t it kind of frowned upon to take up a whole seat?” You asked, of course, sometimes it happened, but you didn’t want to take up too much space.

Spencer cocked his head at you, “I don’t think anyone is going to fight you on it, love.”

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the seat, laying down and closing your eyes, falling asleep before you even left the tarmac.

Being the Unit Chief had its perks, surely, but the piles of paperwork sometimes felt never-ending. Aaron took a deep breath before he closed the file, Rossi sat across from him, nursing a glass of whiskey.

“Hey,” Prentiss whispered, taking the seat next to him and setting her glass of water down on the small table. “Do you see that?” She said, gesturing with her head toward where you were lying down, asleep.

Right next to you was Reid, who usually had his nose buried in a book at this point in a flight, but he was wide awake, and all of his focus seemed to be on you. Begrudgingly, Hotch watched as Spencer reached over and tucked a blanket around you as if he was afraid you’d freeze on the temperature-controlled jet. “What about it?” Hotch asked, reaching over for the next file.

His eyes flicked up again, Spencer was sitting on the floor of the jet. Everyone had elected to leave the couch seats for the two of you, but the one across the aisle from you was empty. Like Reid didn’t even want you to be any more than one foot away from him.

Leaning back in the chair, Emily shook her head, “That’s what we in the business call hypervigilance.”

Hotch didn’t respond, he just spared another glance over at the two of you. “’We in the business’?” He inquired, humoring Prentiss.

“I’m just saying… the hovering? The blanket? I don’t know about you, but that looks pretty real to me,” she said, leaning back in the leather seat.

Silently, he glared, it would seem his hopes of getting the team to stop eavesdropping on familial conversations were quashed.

“Just let the kids be, Aaron,” Rossi said, grinning into his glass.

He cleared his throat and flipped open the new file before he acquiesced, “Fine, for now.”

please reblog, like, and/or comment if you enjoyed 🩵

[hayatheauthor]

Everything You Need To Know About Writing Gunshot Wounds 

Welcome to the latest installment in my ongoing series on crafting realistic wounds in fiction! After covering stab wounds and burns, it's time to explore the next wound category frequently explored in fiction—gunshot wounds. 

Gunshot wounds are a recurring motif in the realm of storytelling. They're something you can easily come across in every genre, however, authors often poorly portray gunshot wounds due to lack of proper research. I understand finding the right resources to aid with your writing can be hard, so here's my comprehensive guide on how to write gunshot wounds. 

How To Categorise Gunshot Wounds

There are certain factors you need to consider before writing a gunshot wound. These details are instrumental in crafting a vivid and plausible narrative while avoiding plot holes. The first and most important one is identifying the type of firearm used to inflict the wound. 

Picking The Right Firearm 

Selecting the appropriate firearm to inflict a gunshot wound is a pivotal decision. It's not just about choosing any gun; it's about picking the right one to align with your desired outcome and the narrative's overall impact. Here's a quick guide on how to pick the right firearm.  

The Impact of Firearm Selection

The firearm you choose can significantly influence the severity and appearance of the gunshot wound. Whether your goal is a graphic, gory injury or a precise, long-range shot, the choice of firearm plays a crucial role. Here are some guns you to consider:

Handguns: These are versatile and commonly used in close-quarters combat. They can result in gruesome, close-contact wounds with a higher potential for damage due to their stopping power.

Shotguns: Shotguns disperse shot pellets upon firing, making them suitable for creating a broader pattern of injuries. If you aim to depict a devastating, close-range gunshot wound, shotguns can be a fitting choice.

Rifles: Rifles are known for their accuracy at longer distances. When you need a precise, long-range shot, rifles are the go-to option. They tend to produce a cleaner wound channel, especially when used for a targeted, well-planned injury.

Choosing the Right Firearm for Your Narrative

The type of firearm you select should align with your story's objectives. If you intend to evoke visceral, gory reactions, opt for handguns or shotguns used in close proximity. On the other hand, if precision and long-range engagement are key, rifles can achieve your desired outcome.

Keep in mind that firearm selection can affect the wound's damage, trajectory, and overall portrayal in your narrative. 

Categorising The Wound 

Once you've identified the type of firearm, you need to establish what type of wound your character will incur. 

In order to bring your character's injuries to life, it's important to first identify what you're dealing with. You can do this by categorising the injury based on several factors. For gunshot wounds, this includes the type of firearm used, the bullet's trajectory, and the specific areas of the body affected.

You can categorise your character's gunshot would into seven main categories, here's a quick breakdown of what these categories look like and the level of severity associated with them: 

Penetrating Gunshot Wounds: These wounds occur when a bullet enters the body but doesn't exit. The bullet remains inside the body, causing damage along its path.

Perforating Gunshot Wounds: In this case, the bullet enters the body and exits on the opposite side. This type of wound can have a different set of implications due to the bullet's trajectory.

Ricochet Gunshot Wounds: Ricochet wounds happen when the bullet bounces off a surface before hitting the character. The nature of the surface can influence the severity of the wound.

Through-and-Through Gunshot Wounds: As the name suggests, these wounds occur when the bullet enters one side of the body and exits through the other. The trajectory can greatly affect the injury's severity.

Close-Contact Gunshot Wounds: These wounds result from the firearm being fired at extremely close range. The proximity of the gun to the body can lead to unique wound patterns and burn injuries.

Shotgun Wounds: Shotgun wounds differ from those caused by handguns or rifles. The shot pellets disperse upon firing, leading to a broader pattern of injury.

Long-Range Gunshot Wounds: When a character is shot from a considerable distance, the wound might appear different due to factors like bullet tumbling and loss of velocity.

The Anatomy of a Gunshot Wound

To create a vivid portrayal of a gunshot wound, writers need to grasp not only the external appearance but also the internal effects it has on the body. A well-executed description captures both the physical trauma and the emotional turmoil experienced by the character. Here are some symptoms you should take into consideration.

1. External Appearance and Bleeding:

Wound Size: The size of a gunshot wound can vary significantly based on the type of firearm and bullet used. Smaller calibers may leave entry and exit wounds that are relatively small, while larger bullets or high-velocity rounds can create much larger wounds. Be specific about the size, which can help readers visualize the injury.

Blood Loss: Gunshot wounds typically result in bleeding. The severity of bleeding depends on factors like the wound's location, the size of the blood vessels damaged, and the bullet's trajectory. Mention the amount of blood, but avoid excessive gore unless it serves a specific purpose in your narrative.

Coughing Up Blood: If the gunshot wound affects the chest or lung area, characters may cough up blood. This symptom often signifies a more critical injury and can add drama to your story.

2. Internal Damage and Symptoms:

Pain: Gunshot wounds are painful, and the character should express this pain through their actions, dialogue, and internal thoughts. Describe the sharp, burning, or throbbing sensations as they resonate through the character's body.

Shock: Depending on the severity of the wound, shock can set in. The character may appear pale, sweaty, and disoriented. This state of shock can impact their actions and decisions.

Loss of Function: A gunshot wound may impair the use of the injured body part. Describe any loss of function, such as the inability to move a limb or use it effectively.

Fainting: In extreme cases, characters may faint due to the pain, blood loss, or shock. Be sure to contextualize this within the narrative, as fainting can have significant consequences for the character.

By diving into the details of a gunshot wound's anatomy, you can craft a compelling and realistic portrayal that draws readers into the character's harrowing experience. I haven't exactly covered every symptom out there, but these are the major ones you should take into account when writing. 

Medical Assessment and Treatment

Once you've established your gunshot wound, it's now time to focus on the aftermath. One of the main factors to consider is the medical process that follows. If your character is supposed to die from the gunshot then you could probably skip this section, but if they're alive here are things you need to consider. 

1. Initial Assessment:

Scene Safety: In a real-life scenario, safety is paramount. First responders will ensure the scene is secure before approaching the injured person. Consider factors like the presence of firearms, potential threats, and the safety of medical personnel.

ABCs of Assessment: Medical professionals follow the ABCs—Airway, Breathing, and Circulation. Writers can reflect this in their storytelling by highlighting the character's ability to breathe, cough, or speak after being shot.

Vital Signs: Mentioning vital signs like heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation can help convey the character's condition and the urgency of their medical treatment.

2. Trauma Assessment:

Focused Assessment: Medical personnel perform a thorough examination to identify the gunshot wound's location, entry and exit points, and any associated injuries. This assessment informs their treatment plan.

Imaging: Depending on the complexity of the injury, X-rays or other imaging may be required to visualize the bullet's trajectory and any potential damage to internal organs or bones.

3. Treatment:

Bleeding Control: Stopping the bleeding is a top priority. This may involve applying pressure, packing the wound, or even tourniquet application in extreme cases.

Wound Care: Depending on the wound's severity, cleaning and suturing may be required. The character's response to this procedure can add an element of realism to your narrative.

Pain Management: Gunshot wounds are excruciatingly painful, and medical personnel will often administer pain relief or anesthesia during treatment.

Monitoring and Observation: Patients with gunshot wounds require careful observation and monitoring for signs of infection, complications, or changes in their condition.

By accurately portraying the medical assessment and treatment of gunshot wounds, you not only enhance the authenticity of your writing but also depict the physical and emotional toll such injuries can take on your characters. This attention to detail helps your readers connect more deeply with the story.

The Psychological Impact

Gunshot wounds don't just inflict physical harm; they also leave lasting emotional and psychological scars. It is important to note that the extent of the psychological impact on your characters will heavily rely on various factors. 

For example, you need to consider whether or not this injury is something normal for them. Do they work as a spy, assassin, or other such roles that would mandate such dangerous injuries? You also need to consider who shot them. Does this wound come with emotional damage as well? Think of Aaron Warner’s reaction to Juliet shooting him. 

If you’re sure your character will have some extent of a psychological impact, here are some factors you should consider. 

1. Shock and Denial:

Immediate Response: Characters who have been shot may initially experience shock and denial. This can manifest as disbelief, emotional numbness, or a surreal sense of detachment from the situation.

Physical Symptoms: Shock can lead to physical symptoms like trembling, chills, or even fainting. Incorporating these details can make the character's reaction more genuine.

2. Fear and Anxiety:

Survivor's Guilt: Characters may grapple with survivor's guilt if they are the only ones to emerge unscathed in a violent encounter.

Anxiety: The threat of recurrence or the fear of returning to the location where the shooting occurred can trigger anxiety and panic attacks.

3. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD):

Flashbacks and Nightmares: Characters who have survived a gunshot wound may experience recurring flashbacks and nightmares, vividly reliving the traumatic event.

Hypervigilance: PTSD can lead to hypervigilance, where characters are constantly on edge, expecting danger at every turn.

4. Depression and Isolation:

Emotional Withdrawal: Characters may withdraw from social interactions, experiencing feelings of isolation and sadness.

Emotional Numbness: Some may describe feeling emotionally numb, unable to experience joy or pleasure.

5. Recovery and Resilience:

Therapeutic Support: In your storytelling, consider how characters seek therapy or counseling to cope with their emotional scars. Therapy can be a path toward recovery and resilience.

By addressing the psychological impact of gunshot wounds on your characters, you create more layered and relatable individuals within your narrative. This depth allows readers to connect with the characters on a profound emotional level.

I hope this blog on Everything You Need To Know About Writing Gunshot Wounds will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[ponderingmoonlight]

gojo x wife! y/n where megumi slips up and calls y/n mom since she helped raise him and gojo starts thinking about how they would be as parents?

Got ya! Love this request, hope you enjoy <3

Megumi accidentally calling Satoru's wife "mum"

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: basically the request above lol

Warnings: this is pure fluff so enjoy, wrote this on my way to Disneyland so look over any spelling mistakes lol

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul

Megumi always admired your tenderness. Since the day he met you when he was just a kid, you have grown on him like no one else. It seemed like you genuinely cared about him and his sister throughout this entire time, standing up for him when needed while leaving him for rest when he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Despite being the longtime girlfriend and now wife of a chaotic person like Gojo Satoru, you never lost your spark, your cool temper, your striking beauty. You are simply always the (y/n) he knows and secretly admires from head to toe. He never truly admitted it, but to him, you are like a mother, one of the most important people in his life, the pivotal point of his decisions.

It shouldn’t have been such a big surprise then when he accidentally called you mom in front of basically everyone.

A brief moment of thoughtlessness in the middle of pure chaos. He didn’t put much thought into his words until they eventually slipped off his tongue with no turning back.

“Can we talk about this later mom?”

Gojo stand right by your side, hand casually placed around your hip like usual when his eyes dart towards Megumi immediately. Did he hear that correctly? Did Megumi-chan just call you “mom”?

“What did you just say, Megumi-chan?”

Fuck fuck fuck. A wave of embarrassment rolls over Megumi immediately, gaze fixed to the ground. He just called you mom. Fuck, he just called you mom! Not only in front of Gojo, but Yuji, Nanami and Nobara. This is bad. Very very bad.

“Megumi…”, you breathe out, tears stinging in your eyes immediately.

While you were always keen to give Megumi the best life possible in this cruel world, you never imagined that he’d see you as someone this important in his life. You it’s not always easy, living with Satoru and you. After all, he is the most chaotic person you know while you are the complete opposite of him. It never seemed as if Megumi enjoyed your company this much. While staying with you more than with Satoru, nothing like that ever slipped off his tongue.

But right now, he called you mom. He really called you mom.

“Sorry”, he mumbles, turning away from your widen eyes.

Fuck, how embarrassing. You must think he’s a total freak for saying something like that. Especially given the fact that you and Satoru don’t have any kids yet. Was has gotten into him?

Nanami’s eyes are darted towards him in silence, Nobara and Yuji giggling to themselves while all Megumi is able to do is hiding his blushing face in his uniform. He needs to get away from here. Fast.

Faster than any of you are able to react, he storms out of the room, leaving especially Satoru and you in pure shock.

“I think he really called you mom, darling”, Satoru breathes out.

You wipe your eyes, tears threatening to fall down your eyes.

“I never thought he’d see me like this. It might seem a little stupid, but…Megumi is like a son to me. To know that he feels the same about me is just…so overwhelming…”

Satoru can’t help but admire you. That little blush that creeps up your face, how you smile into yourself like a little child. All these nights you spent by Megumi’s side, caring for him and his sister when sick, having serious conversations with him when he caused trouble.

It dawns to him. You’d be such a good mom. In fact, this is what you already are to Megumi. All this time, Satoru never thought about having his own kids. Still being young, putting you and potential kids in the risk of this cruel world. But seeing you like this, all flustered by Megumi’s innocent words, totally amazed by the word “mum”. Maybe, just maybe…The thought of a baby in your arms crosses his mind, how you hold its tiny hands while humming it to sleep.

“I will look after him”, you announce, fumbling with your hands nervously while everyone around you just stands there bamboozled.

“Hey”, you greet him gently, sitting down beside him on the bench that overlooks the whole area.

His head rests in his hands, gaze fixed on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to say that”, he begins rapidly.

You bring your legs up, hugging them tightly while smiling down at him.

“I don’t have a problem with that at all. It’s just that…I never thought you’d see me as something other than Satoru Gojo’s wife. But I don’t want to interpret too much into it. After all, it was just a slip of your tongue, right? Just wanted to make sure you don’t feel bad or something. Don’t worry about it.”

With one gentle rub of his back you get back up, ready to leave when he suddenly grabs your hand.

“This wasn’t an accident. I never got to know my biological mum. And since the day I’ve met Satoru and you, you were always something like a mother to me. I really admire and appreciate you, (y/n).”

Oh. Your eyes begin to water all over again, you can’t help but swallow him with your arms.

“I feel the same, ‘Gumi”, you matter against the crook of his neck, careful not to touch his hair.

“Now now, what’s going on here? Are you stealing my girlfriend, Megumi-chan?” Satoru’s voice suddenly questions from behind, making Megumi jump out of your grasp in an instant.

“You know you have a real talent for ruining someone’s moment, right?”, you comment dryly.

“See you, Megumi.”

With Satoru’s hand holding onto yours tightly, you wander down the way to Jujutsu High. What a precious boy he is. You couldn’t be prouder of Megumi. And knowing that you had such an effect on him…You feel like crying all over again.

“I hope you told them not to make fun of Megumi for saying that”, you break the silence, earning a little chuckle from Satoru.

“Nanami did that for me, don’t worry. What did you talk about earlier?”

“Just wanted to make sure he isn’t embarrassed and that I know it was just a slip of the tongue. Nothing to put too much thought in. But it seems like he really sees me as something like a…mother figure, I guess.”

“Doesn’t surprise me the slightest.”

Huh? Your eyes dart towards him, feet stopping right in their tracks.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, when he had to draw something, it was always the dogs, you and him. You holding his hand, you cooking, you kicking someone’s ass. Don’t you remember how everyone always thought you are his mother? All those years he looked up to you. It doesn’t surprise me that he sees you as his mum. But I should have seen it sooner, what a great mother you’d be.”

His explanation makes your heart skip a beat. Over the last years, you never lost a word over something like kids or being parents. After all, your situation was clear: you live in a world full of danger and death. No child should have to deal with this right from the start. But the way he looks at you with a warm smile, hand holding onto yours tightly. Does he mean…?

“I don’t know, Megumi’s words made me think about having our own kids.”

“Our own kids?”

You can’t believe your ears. Even though you never admitted it towards Satoru, the thought of having children definitely fills your heart with nothing but joy. And especially his kids…

“You already have been and would be such a great mother. What do you say, (y/n)? Mind if we try it?”

You aren’t able to answer. Instead, you let yourself fall into his already opened arms, giggling like an idiot. A child with Satoru Gojo, the love of your life. Yeah, this doesn’t sound bad at all. In fact, this sounds like heaven itself.

“I take this as a yes.”

“I’d love that”, you breathe out, pressing your lips against his longingly.

“You’d be such a great dad. I just know it”, you huff against his mouth, heart jumping up and down in joy.

“Even though I told Nobara and Yuji to make at least a little fun of Megumi-chan?”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

[bat-boys]

forever, my love

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, mentions of battle and war, references to depression, smut (fingering) but it's romantic, angst but also fluff.

summary: you and Azriel had seen many battles over the centuries but when something goes wrong and has a lasting impact on you, Az promises to take care of you.

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the first fic! here's another one! I promise next time I'll write something happier haha, suggestions are welcome! I hope you enjoy.

The cruel, unyielding symphony of battle swelled in you as you continued to swing your sword at the enemies in front of you. Grunts of pain and screams of frustration left your lips as you continued to carve a path through the soldiers in your way, desperately trying to hold the line as Cassian had commanded. 

Your body moved automatically, thanks to the centuries of muscle memory drilled into you from the intense training and the many battlefields you had found yourself on during your long life. In recent decades, you may have taken a step back from helping to command the Night Court armies and turned your attention to training the next legion of warriors and aiding your spymaster in more covert missions. Still, your body would always remember the steps needed in battle. It would never shrink from charging head first.

Once, you had been told you were beautiful to watch in battle—second only to Cassian himself as you danced your way through enemy hordes. But now, as you cut through another bottleneck of soldiers, you could only focus on keeping yourself alive, so you were extremely exhausted. 

Step, swing, push, slash, pivot, hit. 

As you managed to gut the last soldier in front of you, you allowed yourself a small moment of reprieve to collect your thoughts and take a gulp of air. The sound of battle raged around you, and you could faintly see your friends and allies around you, diligently fighting for a future you had only just battled for a mere handful of years ago. You sent a pulse down that precious thread, tucked deep within your heart and nodded your head in relief when you felt a responding pulse from the male on the other end. Alive. He was still alive. That's all that mattered at the moment. 

You heard a shout close beside you and watched an Illyrian soldier, who had been grounded due to semi-shredded wings, fight off a group of soldiers starting to swarm around him. Taking a deep breath, you sheathed your long blade and palmed the knives strapped to either thigh.

Winnow, slash. Winnow, stab. Winnow, swing. Your High Lady herself had taught you this particular move after you had seen her yourself face enemies from a different war, a different conflict. You kept the image of your friends smiling at Feyre as she had embarrassingly walked you through how she did it, blushing furiously at your instance in teaching you at the forefront of your mind, and you continued to dance to the sound of the battle's symphony. 

That was the future you continued to fight for, and you were determined to protect it. 

…

Your entire body heaved as you shoved your blade through the chest of the last soldier in front of you. The sounds of battle were quietening and dying out as the last of the enemy horde were tied up or killed. 

A groan left your lips as you yanked your blade free and used the last of your power and strength to winnow to the edge of the battlefield. You stumbled as you landed, cursing yourself for letting your power drain so thoroughly during battle. Az would chastise you about that later. Speaking of which…

Where are you? You sent down the bond, waiting for the familiar calm voice to reach your mind. A frown fell on your face as the minutes stretched past, and you didn't hear a response from him. 

Az? 

You refused to panic just yet. While this was unusual, you knew the moments after a battle was the most crucial for a spymaster as he gathered up defeated enemies to spirit them away for interrogation. He was probably just busy, you reasoned with yourself.

But a small part of your brain also whispered that he always kept the precious channel between you both open and always responded when you called. 

You trudged through the mud towards the huge fortress in front of you. It may have been dilapidated and crumbling, but it provided a place where Rhys could gather his allies and forces and not be constantly caked in dirt and mud from his war camp. Once, it had probably been beautiful, home to some illustrious High Fae family, but now it was home to tired soldiers and had clearly seen much better days. 

Azriel. You tried again to reach your mate through the bond, your heart thundering louder in your chest when you didn't receive a response. This time, you stretched your consciousness along that bridge…and slammed into a cold stone wall on the other end. Panic began to claw up your throat, but you refused to give in. He was probably busy with Rhys or Cassian; you desperately tried to reason with yourself as you sheathed your heavy blade into the scabbard strapped to your back and walked up the stone steps to the bustling entrance of the fortress. 

"Injured that way, please!" You heard the familiar voice of your High Lady directing her people from inside the entrance. She turned around, and you saw her face relax in relief as she spotted you, "Y/N. Oh, thank the cauldron, you're alright." 

Feyre was wearing her Illyrian leathers, her hair windswept and looking just as tired as you felt. She walked towards you, and you hugged her tightly, grateful to see one of your dearest friends safe and sound. You gently manoeuvred around the bow strapped to her back as she hugged you back just as fiercely. Much to everyone's surprise and yours and Rhys' amusement after the war with Hybern Feyre had mastered the notoriously tough Illyrian bow - why anyone doubted her after her past in the human realm you were still confused by. You had seen her sweeping over the battlefield today and dispatching enemies, saving your life more times than you cared to admit. Her flying wasn't strong enough to join in with the Illyrian legions yet, but she had become invaluable on the battlefield once again.

"You looked awesome up there today." You both grinned at each other, warriors recognising each other, "where is everyone?"

"Amren and Mor are in the war chamber, exhausted but ok. Cassian was dropping off a soldier to the hospital wing."

"Az?"

"I thought he was with you?" A quick shake of your head had her face falling, "Ok, he's probably busy with clean up - let me see if Rhys can reach him."

"Thank you," you whispered, and she squeezed your shoulder and kissed your cheek before going back to directing people coming through the entrance. 

You jumped as you felt a bigger, wider hand fall on your shoulder but relaxed when you turned to see Cassian grinning down at you. Not the Illyrian warrior you were desperate to see but still a fucking welcome sight. 

"You saved our asses out there, as usual, tiny angry one." You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you hundreds of years ago as you let him pull you into a bone-crushing hug. 

"Glad to see you survived another battle, General, and without getting yourself torn to shreds."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up you." He teased as he gently pushed your shoulder. You may be Az's right-hand woman with his spy network now, but you were Cassian's second in command first. A formidable warrior whose name struck fear into your enemy's hearts, renowned for being utterly ruthless in combat and undefeated. How long ago it now felt when you and Cassian had first led the armies in that war hundreds of years ago.

"Have you seen Az?" You hated how quiet your voice sounded, but you struggled to keep the panic at bay. 

"No," Cass frowned, "is he still out there?"

"I don't know, I can't reach him." You whispered, and immediately you felt Cassian shift, ready to head back out there and find his brother - could see the panic that settled in his eyes at the thought of finding him dead on the battlefield.

"Let's not panic yet. We'll go find Rhys, and we can set up a patrol-"he continued to talk to you, laying out a plan before you, but you couldn't hear him. Couldn't hear over the sound of your own panic as you tried to not give in to the fear that was eating away at your heart. You absolutely refused to even think for a minute that he was dead. But why was the bond cold? Why hadn't he gotten in touch, and why hadn't anyone seen him since the battle ended?

You turned your head to the side, ready to throw up the small amount of food you had choked down earlier, when-

Y/N! You froze as you heard a familiar roar and couldn't place if it was something you had heard echoed around the stone room or through that precious bond you shared. 

Immediately, you turned from Cassian toward the sound of that shout, and your knees nearly buckled when you finally spotted Azriel walking through the fortress's entrance, bathed in his shadows. 

His eyes were wild as he scanned the room, looking for you. His hair was matted to his sweaty forehead, blood coated his face, and he was stalking forward with a slight limp. But he was alive. Alive.

"Az." You had barely whispered his name, but you watched as his eyes snapped to you, and something broke in his carefully carved facade as his gaze took you in. Pure, undiluted, raw relief settled on his face as he realised you were still here, unhurt and standing. 

Sobbing, you left your friend behind and ran towards your mate. He just stopped where he stood and held his arms out, catching you as you barrelled into him. He rocked ever so slightly back as he caught you, a testament to the exhaustion seeping through his body, but you felt that primal part of you that had been thrashing around your heart ease as his arms circled around you tightly and he buried his head in your hair - breathing you in.

"I thought I had lost you." You sobbed as you pushed your face into his neck, breathing in that comforting smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.

"I know, baby, I know." His beautiful, scarred hands gently stroked down your blood-soaked and matted hair as he continued to mumble, "I'm here. I'm safe. We're safe."

"What happened?" you asked as you pulled away ever so slightly from his body, letting your feet hit the unforgiving stone floor. Azriel's face was so tender, so soft, as his hands came up to cup your face. You watched, giving him a minute to scan your face for any injuries. A sigh left his lips when he noticed that you were largely unharmed apart from the usual cuts and scraps from battle. 

"Faebane," he muttered darkly, and you gasped. "One of the soldiers had some and threw it on my face when I got close. Clearly, they haven't got much, and it's a diluted solution leftover from the war with Hybern as it cleared quite quickly, but still…this is something we now have to factor in."

"I couldn't feel you down the bond." Your voice hitched.

"I couldn't feel you either, sweetheart, I didn't know if you still breathed. I was so scared." Another sob slipped through your lips, one of sadness but also one of relief as you gripped his Illyrian leathers and pulled him closer - unable to stand any distance between you. You rose up on your shaky legs and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss wasn't sweet or tender; it was demanding and all-consuming. It was a kiss between two mates who had been terrified that after their years of searching, they had lost each other. You felt the rumble of Azriel's moan as you tilted your head to get better access to his lips. His hand reached up to cup your head to hold you in place as he licked into your mouth, and his arm snapped around you as your legs finally gave out and caught you before you sank to the floor. 

You broke away gently, not going far as you rested your foreheads together. Your bodies heaved as you sucked in air for what felt like the first time since the battle ended. You closed the distance again to press your lips to his again, once, twice, thrice.

"I can't do this anymore, Az." You whispered, tears slipping down your face. Tears that Azriel captured with his thumbs as he looked at you with such devastation, "the wars, the battles, not knowing whether our friends are alive, not knowing if you are still alive. I have never felt so old."

"I know, sweetheart. I know." 

You both sighed as you felt the soldier hovering near you, waiting to catch your attention. Once, you would have known every soldier's name, but now you just had a vague recollection of his face. "Azriel. Y/N. I'm sorry to interrupt, but Rhysand has requested your presence."

Az pulled away slightly to nod at the soldier, who offered you both a respectful salute before leaving. You felt his scarred hand drift down your arm to grip your hand. You felt his squeeze, and you squeezed back, "Come on, love, let's go get this over with, and then let me take care of you."

…

The fortress was quieter now, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next attack; the next moment, you would all be dragged out onto the battlefield again to face your enemies. You and Az had been stuck in meetings for hours after that initial reunion, and you had felt so hollow as your friends recounted what they saw throughout the day, the tactics the enemies were using and how you stood a chance at defeating them once and for all if you hold strong. You hadn't let go of Az's hand the entire time, only letting go once he had told his story about the faebane and he had seen tears slipping down your cheeks again and had pulled you into his arms. 

A sadness clanged through your chest as you watched all of your friends that afternoon once the allies from other courts had left for their own war camps. Even through the exhaustion, the court of dreamers was still fighting, even though you had all been on the battlefield in a different war only a handful of years ago.

Azriel had made good on his promise. The minute Rhys commanded you to rest, Azriel gripped your cold hand and pulled you towards the room down the hall you were sharing. Immediately, he had asked a passing soldier to grab you a plate of food, something warm, before strolling into the room and firmly closing the door behind him. With such gentle hands, he had taken your frozen body and sat you down on the impressive four-poster bed in the centre of the room, your body sinking deeply into the comfy mattress. 

He firmly pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before moving away to stoke the fire that someone had forethought to start while you were in meetings. Once satisfied, he quickly looked back over his shoulder at you - to check you were ok - before moving into the expansive bathing chamber. You could hear his footsteps on the tiled floor and the water gushing out of the taps into the large bathtub, but you couldn't stop the fear from clawing up your throat. Panic began to settle in again because he was out of sight.

What your enemies would think at the mighty Y/N reduced to this quivering mess.

Just as you couldn't take the roaring in your head anymore, at the nausea swirling in your stomach, and were about to get up to run to his arms again, Azriel stepped back into the room. You must have been shouting down the bond again because he had a soft, sad look on his face. 

"I'm here, sweetheart." A whimper left your lips as you flew from the bed into his arms again, unable to get enough of the feeling of him, of being safe with him. His hand skated up and down your spine again, mumbling soothing words and pressing his lips into your hair: "I've drawn you a warm bath; come on."

You hadn't realised how much you had been shivering or how long you had been cold until the idea of settling into warm water felt so appealing. He smiled at you as he took your hands and guided you into the large bathing chamber. The bathtub sat in the middle of the room, large enough for not only you but also to accommodate wings, you realised. A soft smile fell on your lips at the thought.

In a comfortable silence that you and Az had always been able to enjoy, he gently began to unbuckle your damp and blood-encrusted leathers. With slow, methodical movements, he pulled the material from your body before throwing it into a basket in the corner of the room. You watched, your breathing shallow as Az ran his soft fingers up the exposed skin of your arms before hooking under the strap of your bra and removing it carefully from your body. Only then did his fingers skate down the soft valley of your breasts, over your abdomen, before slipping underneath the waistband of your underwear and slipping them down your thighs. Az had seen you in every state and had marked every inch of your skin with his lips and tongue, but this moment, him undressing you as you tried desperately to keep yourself from shattering, was the most intimate thing you had shared. It was warm and sweet, flecked with starlight.

That same warm smile was still on his lips as he took your hand and guided you into the warm water in the bathtub. An appreciative groan left your lips as your feet, legs, and body were submerged in comforting, warm water. 

You turned around and grinned at your mate as you watched him unbuckle his own leathers and shuck them off his body. You couldn't help gazing appreciatively at his body, that body you also knew as well as your own: the proud contours of his shoulders, the toned muscles of his arms, his chiselled abdomen, the thick, powerful thighs. He truly was sculpted by the gods themselves. 

Az silently padded over to the bathtub, slipping into the warm water himself before resting against one end and gently slipping his arm around your waist to pull you against him - your back pressed tightly against his chest. 

With a gentleness that you know would shock so many people, he reached to grab the washcloth and soap from the side before he lathered them up and softly washed the mud and blood from your body. He took his time, kneading his hands into your aching muscles. He even undid your tattered braid and carefully washed the blood and dirt from your hair. The moment was so loving and beautiful after what happened earlier in the day that you couldn't help the tears that silently slipped from your eyes and tracked down your cheeks. 

Once you were both clean, he pulled you flush against his chest again, letting you lean against him with your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of being this close to him in the warm water. You idly traced the scars on his hand underneath the water where it was resting against your stomach whilst his other hand slid up and down your thigh, over your hip and up your body.

"I love you, Az." You whispered into the soft silence that had settled between you.

"I love you too, baby." You felt him press a kiss to your temple.

After today, after the horrors you had seen, after the panic that had coursed through your veins, you needed to feel something more. He wasn't close enough; you needed to feel him. Without saying a word, you lifted your free hand to gently grip the hand that was trailing up and down your body, stopping it in its lazy movements to slowly place it closer to that now throbbing part of you at the apex of your thighs. 

"Sweetheart?" He questioned quietly. You could sense through the bond his willingness to touch you and feel his want with the way his erection was pressed against your lower back. But he needed to check that you really wanted this and that he wouldn't overstep some line, especially after today. 

"Please, Az. I need you." You whimpered as you felt his slender fingers skim along your inner thigh.

"Relax, sweetheart, let me make you feel good." He rumbled against you as he gently began to press kisses under your ear, at that sweet spot he had found on that first night all those years ago. Your chest heaved as you felt his calloused fingertips trace up your thigh, over the curve of your hip, and along your bikini line before sensually slipping down to trace your slit.

A soft hiss escaped your lips at the feeling of his fingers so close to where you needed him most, a whimpering, "Please," leaving your lips as he chuckled behind you. His breath ghosted over the shell of your ear and caused a shiver to run down your spine. 

"I have worshipped your body for centuries, love," Azriel murmured, his strong nose nudging the side of your head so he could begin placing open-mouthed, hot kisses down your neck, "and I never get tired of hearing those noises you make when I touch you." 

You whined softly when Azriel moved his hand, but it was quickly silenced when you felt him suck on the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder as his strong hand gripped your thigh to move it to the outside of his so he had better access to you. 

One of his slender fingers returned to your centre and traced your slit once again before gently swirling around that bundle of nerves. A curse ripped from your lips as your hips bucked at the contact, and another primal chuckle rumbled up Azriel's chest at your delicious reaction. 

Azriel continued to swirl his finger ever so gently over your clit, every now and then applying the smallest amount of pressure and causing a sharp cry to leave your lips as white-hot pleasure shot up your body. It wasn't enough; he was teasing, and you needed your body to shatter in a way you were familiar with.

"Use your words, love. Tell me what you need." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and if you weren't wound up so tightly, you might have called him out on it. 

"Your fingers, Az. Please." You whimpered.

"Because you asked so nicely." He mumbled into your skin as he gently slid one finger into your core. A sharp cry left your lips at the feeling of those scars creating the most delicious friction against your walls. 

He set a slow but deep pace as he pumped his finger inside you, his thumb still drawing figures of eight on your clit. You could feel the pleasure building inside of you, your toes curling as you felt Azriel taking you higher and higher. His hand that you had been gripping, resting against your stomach, slid up your body to cup your breast. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he expertly rolled your nipples between his fingers and tweaked them in the way he knew you liked. You could feel that familiar crest of your orgasm approaching, and he had barely touched you. So expertly knew your body. You threw your head back against his shoulder, unable to do much but go limp against him. 

"I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered, and you turned to face him and saw that raw emotion on his face again, an emotion that mirrored yours. As he slipped another finger inside you, curling his fingers to reach that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you reached up to grip his hair and press your lips to his. 

You felt him grin against you as you kissed him, your hips undulating and rolling against his fingers to meet his lazy thrusts. The kiss was full of teeth and passion, and you felt the rising tide of your pleasure as you writhed against him. A cry left your lips as you felt yourself reaching the top of the wave, your mind turning foggy and hips bucking sloppily as you felt your orgasm approaching. 

"Let go, love, cum for me." His words, whispered lowly in your ear, his tone dripping lust and awe, and the soft thrust he gave behind you that had you feeling how much he was enjoying seeing you like this, caused that band in your body to snap and the pleasure he had been slowly building crest and shatter. Pure, white, hot pleasure sparked throughout your body, sending every nerve-ending alight as your orgasm washed over you. Chants of his name left his lips as your back arched and your hips thrashed as he continued to pump his fingers deliciously inside you.

After what felt like hours, the wave of pleasure began to subside and be replaced with a bone-deep satisfaction. A sigh left your lips as you slumped back against your mate, his arms catching you - as they always did - and pulling you close to him. You felt Azriel mumbling your name whilst pressing soft kisses to your temple, cheek and jawline. 

"Rest, love. There will be time for more later. I promise." It was that promise you clung to as you rested against your mate and let your body relax in the cooling water of the bath. 

[vivwritescrappythings]

golden linings

knight!könig x plus-size!fem!reader

part 1 - part 2 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

the evening ball presents you with an unconventional dance partner

tw: fem reader, plus size reader, mentions of body image, yearning!, not proofread

wc: 2.5k

masterlist

--

You thanked Lord Asterly for his lackluster conversation, excusing yourself with a polite smile and a lousy attempt at a curtsy. It was obvious that your father had asked him to come speak to you, the eager expression on his face clear to you even across the room. You resisted the urge to glare at him as you retreated to the safety of the refreshment table.

König lingered nearby, his armor freshly polished and a clean hood over his head. He looked larger than life in comparison to the other knights and guards scattered around the room, towering over them despite his efforts to blend in with the column he stood next to.

His gaze was on you expectantly as you approached, a crystal glass of punch in one of your hands. A question lingered in the way his eyes narrowed slightly. “He only wished to talk about how big his family’s estate was, and the rumor of my considerable dowry,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. 

The black hood covering König’s face rippled, a sign of his soft laughter. You heard it a few times, a rough bark of a noise—he reserved it for private times between the two of you.

“My father believes that I will meet a suitable husband at one of these,” you muttered, glaring over the rim of your glass at the dancing couples. “He is convinced that I can find a love match like my sister, but he seems to forget that she was blessed with a beauty I do not possess.”

König simply shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He avoided speaking in the presence of others, only occasionally whispering in your ear if necessary. Apparently it was not necessary that evening.

You ran a hand along the embroidered fabric pulling in your waist; the dress you were wearing was far too extravagant for a woman of your station. It squeezed you around the middle—it had taken the effort of two maids to pull the bodice laces so tight that you could hardly breathe. As though members of the court would not see the softness of your jaw and your arms and know better.

The punch was tart on your tongue. You hardly could conceal your scowl as you watched the dance floor, men twirling their wispy dance partners over the polished stone floor. Jealousy threatened to strangle your heart as you set your empty glass down, pivoting away from the dance floor to take a turn about the room.

König remained where he stood, you could feel his gaze track the back of your head as you offered tight-lipped smiles to lords and ladies as you sidled your way past. You had become used to the weight of his eyes on you. It would be odd if he looked elsewhere, the comfort peeled away from your shoulders to leave you bare.

You wormed your way into a group of ladies your age, their chatter filling your ears. They made space for you readily, welcoming you into their circle with saccharine smiles and soft greetings.

“Tell us, have you thought about what your wedding will be like?” one of the girls asked. You recognized her from around the castle—a recent arrival for the ball. She had always been kind enough, smiling at you in the halls and asking polite questions about your embroidery.

You felt your cheeks heat up as though you had been caught doing something wrong. “Admittedly, probably not as much as I should,” you said with a sheepish smile. 

It seemed that a wedding should be the only thing on a young lady’s mind. 

The women giggled, some offering up remarks of solidarity. “Not even what color dress you will wear?” another asked, pressing closer into the circle as she observed you with wide eyes.

Another resounding no. “Well, most likely blue, I suppose.” You stumbled through the words, begging for some detail to come forth into your mind. “I would want the color of my dress to match my husband’s attire. Perhaps even the same fabric could be used for the gown as his tunic.”

“Oh I think that would be lovely!” Mary exclaimed, grabbing onto your wrist for a moment as she grinned excitedly at you. She was your closest friend at the castle aside from König. Her father was on the king’s small council just as yours was, proximity forcing you into an easy friendship. You squeezed her arm as a thank you.

“I think my father will be willing to pay for a gold gown for me.” Your eyes rolled of their own volition, your irritation obvious. Mary shared your sentiment, leaning into you as her bony arm pressed along your soft bicep—a silent agreement.

It was as though all anyone thought about was getting married: whose dowry was bigger or whose father was willing to spend more coin on their wedding. 

It was exhausting.

The whole event was exhausting. You never realized that balls lasted until the early hours of the morning. The musicians played until the blue fingers of dawn started to cross the sky, the sun threatening to rise over the ocean. 

You yawned into your palm, bidding Mary goodnight as you ambled your way back to König. He was still just as alert as you left him, posture straight and hands clasped behind us back.

“Goodnight, papa,” you murmured to your father as you passed him. He paused his conversation to wrap an arm around your shoulders and squeeze you to his side for a brief moment, murmuring a “goodnight” into your temple before releasing you. 

König perked up slightly when you came to a stop in front of him, his broad shoulders relaxing a fraction as he tilted his head down toward you. 

“I think I have had more than my fair share of the festivities this evening,” you said, already turning toward the double doors leading toward the east wing of the castle. He nodded, dutifully falling into step at your side.

The castle was eerily quiet at that time of morning.

Many servants had either retired late or woken up as the sun rose and the party guests had not started to leave yet, the halls were empty. The light streaming in through the windows was tinged the periwinkle of early morning, the sconces lining the walls nearly burning out. 

“I can only imagine you had a rather exciting evening,” you murmured to König, a bit of a smirk on your face.

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head once. “I have had worse nights than that, my lady,” he said, voice low and raspy from disuse. It still surprised you to hear him, it felt like a special privilege to know his voice.

You hummed your acknowledgement. He told you of his times fighting along the eastern border. There was a vague memory floating in the back of your mind of your father discussing the skirmishes with neighboring kingdoms about farmland, but it had not affected your home much aside from a sudden drop in potato dishes. You could not fathom what it had been like on the front lines.

It was a relatively peaceful era for the majority of the kingdom; König was one of the few people you knew that had actually seen battle. He refused to tell you the details of it.

“Well that is true,” you concurred, inclining your head toward him, “but this certainly had to be boring. Knights on duty were not even allowed to dance.”

You turned the corner toward your quarters, the windows lining the one side of the hallway showed the sun starting to crest over the horizon. The sky was splashed with pinks and oranges, the whispers of the clouds above catching the colors and lined in bright white. 

“You did not dance, either,” König remarked.

Your cheeks warmed, embarrassment clenching around your throat. “No one asked me to dance.” You studied the way the hem of your gown fluttered across the floor as you walked. 

“Would you have liked to dance?” 

You shrugged noncommittally, chewing your lower lip for a moment. “I suppose I would have,” you finally mumbled. A sidelong glance at König confirmed that he had turned his head to look at you, eyes the color of aquamarines shining through the eye holes of his hood. “But it is not proper for a lady to ask, she must be asked by a man.”

König hummed thoughtfully for a moment before stopping in place. You were just a few paces from your door.

“Would you like to dance with me, my lady?” he asked, turning to face you dead on. He offered a gloved hand palm-up for you to take, his other hand tucked behind his back as though he was a proper lord asking a lady to dance.

You let out a soft chuckle, the warmth on your cheeks spreading to the entirety of your face. At first you assumed he meant it in jest, but a twinkle in his eye made you reconsider. “But there is no music.”

“Humor me,” he responded in the same beat.

It was enough to convince you. You smiled nervously, your nose scrunching a bit as you slipped your hand into his. 

“Which dance will we do?” you asked, having to crane your neck back to properly look up at König. You placed your hand on his shoulder, the metal pauldron smooth beneath your fingertips.

His broad hand found the curve of your waist, pulling you a fraction of an inch closer. You were surprised by the stretch of his fingers, feeling the press of his hand around the entirety of your side. You never thought you would feel small in a man’s embrace.

“The one that had you glaring at the dance floor.” König’s voice had a hint of a smile in it, mirth clear in his gaze. You scoffed, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. He squeezed your hand as he snickered.

Then he moved into the first steps, shockingly graceful as he led you into the dance. You stumbled at first, both of you laughing as his hold on your waist tightened. He pressed you in the right direction with his palm.

“You are rather good at this,” you commented, finally synchronizing with him.

“It was a long evening,” König explained, spinning you elegantly before capturing your waist once more. “Dancing is not so far from fighting when it comes to the core movements. The steps are not hard to grasp and are similar to one another, I did spend the past few hours watching them.”

“So you did use your time wisely,” you teased. 

His hand shifted from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer. You were nearly pressed against the metal of his chestplate, the burnished steel reflecting the light of the sunrise as König whirled you over the stone like it was a dance floor. 

You hardly even noticed there was no music playing, your mind filling in the silence surrounding the soft sound of your footsteps and the occasional metallic click from his plate armor. Your gown swished against his legs, just a whisper of noise.

The edge of König’s hood fluttered against your fingertips as your hand rested on his shoulder. The black fabric was coarser than you expected, the edges fraying. It was different from the hood he wore most days: there was no discoloration around the eyes. You ached to remove it.

The sun rose slowly, blood orange light flooding the hallway. Everything seemed to stand still aside from the syrupy movements of the two of you dancing in silence. König led you through the steps slower than the music would normally go, seemingly savoring the moments of closeness as his head bowed toward yours.

You were lost in the moment, the heavy scent of oakmoss incense interlaced with marjoram and sage that clung to him almost made you feel like you were in a dream. Perhaps you had dreamt this? It would not have been the first time you dreamt of the knight sweeping you off your feet.

“You are lost in your thoughts, my lady,” König said, pulling you from the reverie. You blinked a few times, looking up at him through your lashes with a guilty smile.

“You have surprised me, I did not think you to be a dancer,” you managed to lie, attempting to hide your daydreaming.

König let out a huff, spinning you once more. It would have been the crescendo of the music had there been any, he continued twirling you until the imaginary note ended. Then he yanked you close, pressing your belly to his pelvis as his forearm settled across the small of your back.

“König!” you yelped, giggling as you steadied yourself with your hands on his breastplate. The lack of sleep and proximity were going to your head, your face so warm you could practically start a fire. 

Gloved fingers brushed a loose piece of hair from your forehead, tucking it back into the braided style you wore. “Those men are fools for not asking you to dance, all of them,” he said softly, a knuckle brushing against the outside of your jaw to direct your gaze up at him. 

You floundered for words, mouth opening and closing like a fish. The sun had nearly risen, light flooding in and illuminating a golden outline around König. You could feel the scales of his armor through the too-tight bodice of your gown, the pieces of metal shifting with your breaths.

You inhaled, lips parting to respond.

Peals of laughter bounced down the hallway, making you lurch apart. You pressed your back against the carved wood of your door, teeth digging into your lower lip as he settled into the same stance he had been in all night: shoulders squared and arms clasped behind his back.

It took time to gather yourself after the shock—you and König had done nothing wrong. But you would have. “Thank you for the dance, König,” you finally blurted out, voice higher pitched than normal. 

He inclined his head toward you, silent now that others were wandering down the hall back to their chambers. They were in their cups, staggering in each other’s arms as the morning sun shined on them. You stared for a beat, chewing the inside of your cheek.

König grabbed the handle of your door, pulling it open for you in a smooth motion. “Goodnight,” you said, reflex driving you. It had become routine–bidding him goodnight at the end of each day. 

“Goodnight, my lady,” he whispered, so low you could barely hear it. You looked up at him over your shoulder as you turned, meeting his bright eyes before slipping inside your room.

The door closed behind you, your hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your giddy laugh. You leaned against the door, imagining what König was doing on the other side. He would have to be relieved of his post soon, he needed to sleep just as much as you did. 

But for the moment, you thought of his heavy hand on your waist and his knuckle on your cheek.