#one of the most beautiful plays i ever seen

[03jyh23]

༘⋆mon's 500 followers special.ᐟ.ᐟ 500-word prompt roulette⟢

🍰┆sweet disaster

kang yeosang x gn! reader

│synopsis: the one with the failed cake

│genre: fluff

│trigger warnings: none

│ prompt 10 + yeosang + baking

You were on the verge of a mental breakdown, in the middle of the kitchen, flour everywhere, as you desperately tried to bake Yeosang an anniversary cake. You wanted to do something for him, something that would scream how much you loved him. You weren't good at crafting, so a handmade gift was out of the question, but baking? You thought, what could be hard about baking?

Turns out, everything. The recipe you found online looked simple enough, but three hours in and you had managed to burn the first attempt, drop the second one on the floor, and now this third one just wouldn't rise properly. Your hands were shaking, tears threatening to spill over as you stared at the sad excuse of a cake before you.

That's when you heard the front door open and close. Yeosang wasn't supposed to be home for another hour. You panicked, trying to hide the mess, but it was too late. He walked into the kitchen, eyes widening at the disaster zone that greeted him.

"What happened here?" he asked, taking in your flour-covered form and the failed cake attempts.

"I-I just wanted to make you something special for our anniversary," you stammered, feeling defeated. "But I can't even get a simple cake right." You were supposed to surprise him with something beautiful, not this chaotic mess. Yeosang moved through the disaster zone with careful steps, coming to stand in front of you. He reached out, gently wiping a smudge of flour from your cheek with his thumb. "I... I just wanted to..." you stammer, your hands still covered in flour and batter. "The recipe looked so easy online, and I thought I could surprise you with something special, but nothing went right, and I kept messing up, and now you're home early and everything's ruined and—" Your rambling explanation tumbles out in a rush, words tripping over each other as you try to justify the kitchen catastrophe surrounding you both. You gesture wildly at the failed cake attempts, accidentally flinging a bit of batter onto Yeosang's shirt in the process. You gasp, horrified as a glob of cake batter lands right on his white shirt. "Oh no! I'm so sorry, I—" But before you can finish your apology, Yeosang breaks into laughter, you freeze, your mouth dropping open slightly.

His laughter turns into a fond smile as he shakes his head. "You're adorable." Yeosang chuckles, watching you fumble with your words. "Didn't expect me to say that, huh?"

You stare at him, unable to fully process how he can be so calm in the middle of your culinary disaster. Yeosang hands gently come to rest on your flour-dusted shoulders as if it's the most natural thing in the world. The way he looks at you—like you're the most precious thing he's ever seen, failed cake and all—makes something warm bloom in your chest.

"You know," he says softly, "this is actually the best anniversary gift I could have asked for."

"A complete kitchen disaster?"

He shakes his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "No. Seeing how much you care. How much effort you put into trying to make something special for me." His thumb traces your jawline, "That means more to me than any perfectly baked cake ever could."

"I still wanted it to be perfect for you," you mumble, unable to hide your disappointment despite his words.

Yeosang laughs softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks at you with such affection that it makes your heart skip. "You're perfect," he whispers, leaning in closer. His hand cups your cheek, "Messy kitchen and all." Before you can protest further, he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours. The kiss is gentle at first, then deepens as he pulls you closer, completely unconcerned about the flour and batter that transfers to his clothes. When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours. "I love you," he breathes, the words falling softly between you. "Not for what you can bake me, but for who you are. For moments like this." Despite the mess surrounding you both, this moment feels perfect in its own chaotic way. Yeosang's smile, the warm press of his body against yours, and the genuine love in his eyes make all your failed baking attempts worth it. "So," he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "want to try baking together? I'm not much better at it, but I think we could make a decent mess together."

You can't help but laugh, the tension finally melting away as you nod. "I'd like that."

As Yeosang rolls up his sleeves and reaches for a clean mixing bowl, you realize that sometimes the most perfect moments come from the most imperfect situations. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

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[c1nna1nmyr0ll]

Proving You Wrong

Tobio Kageyama x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0.6k

Warnings: nipple play, vaginal fingering, pet names, thigh fucking, multiple orgasms, and cum eating

Also, maybe consider signing up for the 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦!!

You lay silently as Tobio sleeps soundly beside you. He always looks so cute when he’s sleeping. His black hair frames his soft face, and you hear his soft snores. Tobio Kageyama really is the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. You turn to face him and bring your hand close to his face. You begin to play with his beautiful hair and admire his good looks.

Tobio’s eyes flutter open when he feels you touching him. When he comes face to face with you, he gives you a small smile.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m not really tired, I guess,” you say. “I couldn’t help but admire how cute you are when you sleep.” He gives you a slight pout.

“I’m not cute,” he says. You giggle.

“You most certainly are Tobio,” you tell him. He shuffles closer to you now.

“I am not,” he defends.

“See? What you’re doing now is cute,” you say.

“I’ll prove you wrong, Y/N,” he challenges.

“Go ahead,” you counter. He flips you onto your other side, facing away from him. All you can see is your nightside table and closed closet. He presses his cock against your ass when he’s close.

“I’ll show you that I’m not cute,” he whispers to you before he begins kissing your neck. You feel his hands dive under your shirt and slide up to your breasts. He starts groping them and flicking your nipples with his thumbs. You moan at the feeling of his fingers while he sucks your neck.

“Mm, Tobio,” you hum, beginning to rub your legs together. He seems to notice what you’re doing, so he travels one of his hands down to your panties. He moves past the fabric and begins rubbing small circles on your clit. “Ah! Tobio!”

“Shh, baby,” he whispers. He trails his tongue all along your neck and continues with his fingers on your nipple and clit. You grab at his arms and try to make his fingers go faster, but he keeps his pace steady. You continue moaning, and you feel yourself begin to coil up. Your orgasm is quickly approaching. Even when he’s not giving you his all, you still cum so quickly under his touch. He can tell how fast you’re about to cum from your moans. “Cum for me, baby.” You cry out his name as you cum, soaking your panties.

“Oh, baby, you got your panties dirty,” he whispers against your ear. “I think we should take them off.” He slowly drags your panties down, and you take them off completely.

With no panties, you grind your ass on Tobio’s hard cock. His breath hitches from the contact and holds your hips, and pushes himself against you. You both moan as he lazily thrusts his cock. You spread your legs slightly, and he moves his cock to thrust between your thighs right under your cunt. He grunts as he thrusts into the small opening of your thighs, and with your cum running down your leg acting as a lube, Tobio’s cock moves faster.

“Shit, baby,” he curses. The tip of his cock hits your clit when his hips move away from your body. He moves faster, and you both moan out, trying to chase your orgasms.

“Ah! Tobio!” you scream again as your clit spasms every time it’s touched. Tobio bites down on your neck, and your thighs tremble as you feel your orgasm coming again. You gush on Tobio’s cock and drench it. He groans from your cum on his cock, and his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

“Fuck, ‘m cumming, baby,” he groans. You move your hands down to his cock, and he cums in your hands. His load is warm in your hands. You bring your hands up to your face and begin licking his cum off your hands and fingers. Tobio moves his cock from between your legs and admires how you lick up his cum. “I proved you wrong.” Once you’re done licking, you turn to face him.

“Maybe a little,” you admit.

© c1nna1nmyr0ll 2024, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, use for ai, copy, translate, or repost my content on any platform. comments, reblogs, and likes are loved

[calebghostin]

glitz 'n glamour . gojo satoru

Life as an actress wasn’t easy, that was easy to say. Although, You wouldn’t trade it for the world. Especially when your co-worker Satoru was pretty easy on the eyes. 

Just a rom-com, a cheesy-holiday Netflix original, doomed to failure, but a secure paycheck. 

Your agent directed you into a practice building for a chemistry read. Heels tapping, you entered the meeting-room, a large oval table taking up most of the space and bright, charming white hair taking up your eyes. 

“Ah! Thank you for joining us. This is Satoru Gojo, who will be playing Luka.”

The director states and you have to physically take your eyes off Satoru to smile back at the man. 

“Ah, Yes. thank you for having me. Nice to meet you both.”

You smile politely while glancing back to Satoru who smirks at you and pulls up his shades to reveal the brightest blue orbs you’ve ever seen. 

No wonder he books these gigs so easily, you think. 

Sitting down across from Satoru you glance at the early script and cringe. Some of these lines were, well, romantic. Definitely. 

Coughing, you start. 

・・・・・

You exhaled deeply, heels clacking over a few yards away from the very previously tense meeting room.

All was well your cola jolted and paused on its descent down the vending machine into your yearning hands. Half of it just awkwardly inching over the threshold. You sighed and placed your head on the cool glass, until you noticed bright crystalline eyes in the glass' reflection, staring at you curiously.

“Ah! Mr. Gojo, I didn’t see you there…”

You started, turning around to face him. Now that he was standing, you could take his height in as he towered over you, eyes peering down curiously. 

“All good, I didn’t say anythin’ anyways. And call me Satoru! We’ll be working together now, yeah?”

He replies joyfully. 

“Oh, okay. Um, yeah, best of luck to us, I suppose?” 

“Guess so. You didn’t like the script either?”

He asks and you can’t help but sigh. 

“I guess. The audition read was so different,”

You step to the side and notice his eyes glance to the titled red can in the machine. “It’s like they totally changed it, or something!” 

“Mhm, I thought so too. Is that your… trapped cola?” 

“Yes. Unfortunately.” 

“Well, I suppose it would be very ‘Luka’ of me to help… right?”

He smiles and steps forward, one hand above the machine, the other perched near the heat of your waist around the side of the machine. 

Your breath hitches, realising how close and just how beautiful he was. The sharp and loud shakes of the machine snaps you out of your daze. 

The soft clunk of the cola being the only sound to fill the space, until Satoru says. 

“Well, I suppose this is the part you give me the cola for helping?” He says. 

Is he joking? All he did was move it with graceful elegance and he just expects to take your cola? 

“Um, I paid for it!” You straighten up, letting him know you are serious. 

“Well, being a big shot-actress, can’t you lend a poor fan a cola?”

He says while taking the cola and turning to leave. Humming to himself.

Waving the cola in the air, he cries out in a sing-song: “Love the stuff you do, can’t wait to film with you!” 

How on earth are you going to survive filming with him? 

・・・・・

“...Lights, camera… action! We have exclusive news that stars Gojo Satoru and everyone's favourite hot-shot actress will be starring in Netflix’s new rom-com “Snowed In”, hitting the service this Christmas! Take a look at these behind-the-scenes photos!”

The TV hums out through the hotel room you lodge in peacefully, worn-out from the long shoot that went relatively well. The photos splayed on the screen of the news show Satoru giving you a cup of coffee after a scene, and a steamy-kiss on the set. You roll your eyes, of course this is what they care about. Your thought is interrupted by your phone’s silent buzz. 

Satoru: Wow, we look great in those photos.

You reply with 'You’re watching too?' and receive a few smiley faces and thumbs up in affirmation.

Great minds think alike, but you can’t help but wonder if he truly enjoyed the kiss, regardless of the on-screen nature. Whether it was the crisp white-wine or city getting to you, your fingers riskily type out: Was it a good kiss? 

'Oh my God. Why did I DO that?' Your thoughts spiral, worst-case scenario he might leave the movie because of your stupid drunk- 

Satoru: Yeah, for sure. Cus I was kissin’ :D of course it’ll be good. 

Oh.

You roll your eyes. What did you expect? That he, Satoru Gojo, would be serious or even seriously-flirtatious for even a second? Throwing your phone across the room, you walked to bed. 

Hotel beds rock. A sharp knock straightens you awake out of your drunken sleepiness. Another knock, then another, and another. 

“C-coming!” You cry out, quickly tying your hair and throwing on a robe, you open the door to be met with - Satoru?

He pants, clearly out of breath… shirt crumpled, thrown on.. rushing clearly.

“You didn’t read my other text.”

He says, quietly looking at you. 

“What? No, it was a stupid question and I was going to bed and I-” 

“Read it. Please.” He nods in the direction of your room. 

“O-okay…” You enter back inside the hotel room. Very confused until you open the screen and  a notification reads: 

Satoru: Joking, you’re the best co-worker I’ve had the pleasure of kissing. Or woman, or anyone for that matter. They put me in the same hotel? Mind if I come over?

Then 3 minutes later: 

Satoru: That was inappropriate. Sorry. 

Again, 

Satoru: Please don’t ignore me, we’ve still got lots to do together - I don’t want you to be mad. 

Oh.

He thought you were brushing him off, you, brushing off Gojo Satoru! Of all people! You remembered how good the kiss for the films final scene was and took one last courage-swish of your complimentary champagne before quickly heading over to the doorway. 

Seeing you stride forward quickly, Satoru braced for the worst. 

“Listen y-” 

His stammered apology was quickly cut off by you smashing your lips against him, hot breaths fanning against each other as you moved against him. 

“Don’t be sorry you idiot, come inside.”

You whispered, pulling him into the room, unaware of the soft camera “click!” from down the hotel hallway. 

[yjw1a1]

The Space Between The Unsaid | PSH

PAIRING. Park Sunghoon x female reader. GENRE. contemporary romance, coming of age, drama and angst WORD COUNT. 6481 WARNINGS. angst and reader is lowkey annoying. DISCLAIMER. I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING EXCEPT FOR THE WORK I WROTE, SO PLAGIARISM IS NOT ALLOWED HERE. all the credits to the owners of the photos. Please be kind. :) SUMMARY. Y/N has spent her whole life playing a role—perfect daughter, untouchable socialite, the girl everyone admires but no one really knows. As the only child of Korea’s most celebrated actor and a former supermodel, she’s been raised in a world where appearances matter more than reality. But behind the curated image, Y/N feels like a ghost in her own life—trapped in a cold house, wearing a name that doesn’t feel like hers Then there’s Sunghoon.The boy next door. The only real thing in her world. From the moment they met as children, Sunghoon has been her anchor—her escape. In his home, filled with warmth and chaos, Y/N learns what it means to belong. But as they grow up, the lines between them blur. Sunghoon watches, caught between wanting to save her and knowing she doesn’t want to be saved. The weight of everything unspoken between them threatens to crack because Y/N grows tired of playing pretend. And maybe, just maybe—he’s finally tired of pretending, too. Because some love stories are quiet. Some never get the right words. But some, no matter how long it takes, refuse to stay unsaid.

DATE RELEASED . 03.02.2025

Y/N KNEW SHE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE OUTSIDE. She could still hear her mother’s voice echoing in the back of her mind Don’t ruin your dress. Don’t go where people can see you like that.

Like that. Like a child. Like someone who didn’t belong to the world her parents had built.

But right now, she didn’t care.

Her fingers curled around the handlebars of the tiny pink bicycle, the one she had found abandoned in the garage when they moved in. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t hers. But for some reason, she liked it.

She had never owned anything that wasn’t perfect before. She tried to lift it upright, arms trembling slightly from the effort. It was heavier than she expected, and her shoes slipped against the smooth pavement as she struggled. Still, she didn’t stop.

Until the front door swung open.

“What are you doing?”

Y/N flinched.

Her mother’s voice was sharp, like it always was when she caught Y/N doing something she shouldn’t be. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, beautiful and cold all at once.

“That’s not yours.”

Y/N swallowed hard, quickly letting go of the bike, as if it had burned her.

“I know.”

Her mother sighed. “Come inside. You have your etiquette lesson in twenty minutes.”

And just like that, the door closed again.

Leaving Y/N stranded in their driveway. 

She let out a quiet breath, fingers tightening into the fabric of her dress.

She hated this house. She hated the way the glass windows made it feel like a museum, not a home. She hated the way her father was never there and how her mother only spoke to her when she needed to. She hated the way everything was supposed to be perfect, but it never, ever felt right.

Most of all, she hated that she hadn’t even tried to argue.

That she never did.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.

“Hey.”

Y/N gasped, turning sharply.

There was a boy standing a few feet away. He was around her age, taller than her but not by much, with dark hair that fell into his eyes and a jacket that looked too big for his frame.

She had never seen him before. But when she followed his gaze, she realized—he had been watching.

Watching her struggle. Watching her mother scold her. Watching her freeze instead of fighting back.

A sudden wave of embarrassment crashed over her. She hated being watched.

The boy hesitated, then nodded toward the bike. “Do you want help?”

Y/N stared at him.

Most boys she knew only talked to her because of her last name. Because of her parents. Because they wanted something.

But he didn’t look at her like that.

He just… looked at her.

Like she was a normal seven year old girl standing in the driveway of a house that didn’t feel like hers, struggling with a bike that didn’t belong to her.

She bit the inside of her cheek, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides.

Then, finally—she nodded. The boy stepped forward, easily pulling the bike upright.

Y/N didn’t know why, but the sight of it—the way he helped her so casually, so effortlessly, like it was the easiest thing in the world—made her chest feel strangely tight.

She swallowed. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “It’s my younger sister’s. She won’t care.”

She blinked. “Your sister?”

He nodded, pointing at the house next door. “We live there.”

Y/N glanced over.

His house was smaller than hers, a little older, with a front yard full of toys and a porch light that flickered faintly in the dim evening. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t polished.

But it looked warm.

And for a reason she didn’t understand, that made her chest ache.

She looked back at him, studying his face carefully, like she was trying to figure out if she should say something else.

Then, without thinking, she smiled. Not the kind of smile her mother taught her—the polite, camera-ready one. A real one. The boy seemed surprised at first. Then he smiled back. 

“I’m Sunghoon, by the way,”

And just like that, Y/N met the first real person in her life.

She didn’t know it then, but years later, she would look back at this moment—the pink bicycle, the cold house, the boy next door—and realize:

This was the day Sunghoon became the only safe thing she had ever known.

Y/N had never been inside Sunghoon’s house before.

She had spent years watching from afar—the warm light spilling from the windows, the way laughter echoed through the halls, the way his mother called for him and his younger sister, Yeji, as if their names were the most precious things in the world.

It was different from her house.

Her house was always too quiet. Too pristine. Too much like a place people admired, but never really lived in.

But tonight, for the first time, she was here.

And she was terrified.

“Just sit,” Sunghoon said, nudging her toward the couch. “Yeji’s excited to see you.”

“I barely know her,” Y/N murmured, hesitating.

“She doesn’t care. She likes you.”

That was hard to believe. Yeji had always been a blur of energy—tiny, loud, and endlessly curious. Whenever Y/N had seen her before, she had been running after Sunghoon, demanding piggyback rides or showing off her latest bruises like they were trophies. She was the kind of child who lived freely, without hesitation.

The kind of child Y/N had never been allowed to be.

A small voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Y/N?”

She turned.

Yeji was standing in the doorway, her dark hair pulled into two messy pigtails, eyes round with excitement. She was holding something in her hands—a coloring book, worn at the edges, its pages filled with crayon scribbles.

“Will you color with me?”

Y/N blinked.

Color?

She had never been allowed to color. Her mother said it was messy. A waste of time. Something only children with too much freedom did.

But when Yeji grinned at her, bouncing slightly on her toes, something in Y/N softened.

“Okay.”

The younger girl let out a cheer, dragging her toward the coffee table. She opened the book to a half-colored picture of a castle, then shoved a handful of crayons into Y/N’s hands.

“You can be princess pink,” Yeji declared. “I’ll be sky blue.”

Y/N looked down at the crayon between her fingers. It was slightly melted at the tip, broken in the middle. Imperfect.

But for some reason, she liked it.

She hesitated at first, unsure of how to start. Her hands hovered over the page, fingers stiff, her mind flooded with the echo of her mother’s voice. Neat lines. No mess. No mistakes.

But when Yeji began scribbling away with no regard for the lines at all, laughing at the way her blue crayon clashed with the pink rooftops, Y/N felt something in her chest loosen.

She pressed the crayon to the page and let it glide across the paper.

The world didn’t end. No one scolded her. Nothing was ruined.

She exhaled.

And she kept coloring.

Sunghoon’s parents walked by a few minutes later, pausing when they saw her sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Yeji, completely focused on filling in the castle walls.

“She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Sunghoon’s mother whispered to his father.

His father chuckled. “I always knew she was more than just that fancy house next door.”

Y/N’s face warmed, but she kept coloring.

After that night, everything changed.

Y/N started coming over more often.

At first, she told herself it was just to return the coloring book Yeji had let her borrow. Then it was because Sunghoon had offered to help her with her math homework. Then it was because she had nothing to do at home, and sitting alone in her room made her feel like she was suffocating.

Eventually, she stopped making excuses. Sunghoon’s house became her escape.

She sat with Yeji on the porch, helping her braid her dolls’ hair. She let Sunghoon’s mother fuss over her, feeding her warm bowls of rice and soup when she claimed she “wasn’t that hungry” (even though, deep down, she was). She listened to Sunghoon and his father bicker over soccer matches and let herself laugh when his mother smacked them both with a dish towel.

It was loud. Chaotic. Messy.

And she loved it.

One afternoon, Yeji grabbed Y/N’s hand, dragging her toward the backyard.

“Come play!” she insisted. “We’re playing tag, and you’re it.”

“I don’t know how to—”

But Yeji had already taken off, giggling as she ran through the grass.

Sunghoon smirked. “She’s fast. You better catch up.”

Y/N hesitated.

She had never played tag before.

She had never run through the grass in bare feet, never let herself laugh just for the sake of laughing, never felt like she was allowed to be young. But when Yeji turned back and stuck her tongue out, teasing her, something in Y/N snapped. And for the first time in her life—she ran.

She chased after Yeji, her laughter ringing through the air, her lungs burning in the best way possible. Sunghoon’s parents watched from the back porch, smiling at the sight.

“She’s different when she’s here,” his mother murmured.

His father nodded. “Like a kid.”

“Like she’s home.” And maybe, in a way, she was.

It happened so naturally that Y/N didn’t even realize when she started calling Sunghoon’s parents Auntie and Uncle.

It slipped out one evening when she was helping set the table, laughing at something Sunghoon said. She had turned to his mother without thinking.

“Auntie, do you want me to grab more napkins?”

The room went silent. Y/N froze. Her throat tightened. She wasn’t supposed to say that. She wasn’t supposed to—

But then, Sunghoon’s mother smiled. “Of course, dear,” she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And just like that, Y/N wasn’t just a guest anymore. She belonged.

Yeji started calling her unnie—big sister. She would crawl into Y/N’s lap during movie nights, curling against her like she had always been there.

Sunghoon’s father would ruffle her hair when he passed by, teasing her about how she was “too serious for a kid” but smiling when she finally let herself joke back.

Sunghoon’s mother made sure there was always an extra plate at dinner, even on nights when Y/N didn’t come over—just in case.

And when Y/N went home at the end of the night, stepping back into the cold, empty house next door, she carried their warmth with her.

She didn’t say it out loud. But in her heart, she knew. This was her real family.

Being the only child of Korea's hottest actor and stellar model, Y/N had always been the center of attention. Even in high school, when the rules of popularity became more complicated— it wasn’t just about who you were, but who you were willing to be.

People gravitated toward her without hesitation. They laughed at her jokes even when they weren’t funny, clung to her presence like it meant something. She was the kind of person everyone wanted to be close to, even if they didn’t know why.

And she played along. She always did.

She let them love the version of her they thought they knew.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon stayed exactly the same.

He had his small group of friends, the ones who didn’t care about school dances or lunch table politics. The quiet, antisocial types who spent more time talking about their pokemon cards or some new meme that only they found funny. They kept to themselves, content in their own world.

They had no reason to interact with Y/N.

And yet—Sunghoon was always there.

Despite everything, despite how different their worlds were, despite the fact that neither of their friend groups understood it, Sunghoon was the one person who had never drifted from her orbit.

He didn’t try to belong in her world.

And somehow, that’s what made him feel like the only real part of it.

“Why do you even hang out with him?” 

Y/N heard the question more times than she could count. It always came in some variation—curious, teasing, sometimes even pitying. People never understood.

Today, it came from Gia, one of the girls who had attached herself to Y/N sometime in sophomore year. She had asked the question before. But this time, Y/N could tell it was different.

“You know, you don’t need to be with people who bring your status lower. You’re doing charity work Y/N!”

Gia’s gaze flickered toward the far side of the cafeteria, where Sunghoon sat with his usual group—heads down, engaged in conversation, completely detached from everything happening around them. 

Y/N barely hesitated before responding. “Because he’s my best friend.”

Gia snorted. “Seriously?”

Y/N just shrugged, unfazed. She didn’t expect her to understand, when she too was no different from the people in her fathers and mothers circle. 

Gia leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was about to tell a secret. “You know he doesn’t fit in with us, right?”

Us.

Y/N smiled, but there was something in her expression—something sharp, something knowing.

She leaned back in her seat, gaze steady. “Maybe I don’t fit in with you, either.”

Gia blinked.

She opened her mouth, like she wanted to argue, but something in the way Y/N said it—the way she held her gaze, unshaken—made her stop.

And just like that, the conversation ended.

Later that day, after school, Y/N found Sunghoon leaning against the gate outside, waiting for her like he always did.

She didn’t have to ask why.

She didn’t have to say anything at all.

He glanced up as she approached, shifting Y/N’s backpack onto his other shoulder.

“Let me guess,” he said, voice dry. “Someone asked why you’re still friends with me.”

Y/N grinned. “Bingo.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “And? What did you say this time?”

She gave him a look. “The usual. That you’re secretly in love with me, obviously.”

Sunghoon scoffed, shoving her lightly as his ears turned pink. “Shut up.”

She laughed, bumping her shoulder against his before they started walking together, falling into step like they had been doing this for years. Because no matter what changed—the people, the expectations, the shifting lines between friendship and something more—Y/N and Sunghoon never did.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because some friendships were supposed to fade. But there's never did.

And that meant it was only a matter of time before it either broke apart completely or turned into something else entirely.

Sunghoon had always known Y/N.

He had known her as the quiet girl who pressed her fingers into the fabric of her dress when she was upset. The girl who colored outside the lines with Yeji like it was the first time anyone had let her. The girl who smiled at everyone like she was perfectly fine, even when her house felt more like a museum than a home.

He had known her before everyone else did—before she became the kind of person people worshipped in high school, before she learned how to belong to a world that wasn’t built for her.

And maybe that was why it hurt so much.

Because he also knew the version of her that no one else did. The one who kept choosing the wrong guys. The ones who didn’t deserve her. The ones who made her feel like she had to prove something.

It started with Minjae.

Sunghoon knew from the moment he saw the guy smirking at Y/N in the hallway that it was going to be a problem.

“He’s a dick,” Sunghoon said bluntly, watching as Minjae leaned against Y/N’s locker like he owned it.

Y/N sighed, stuffing books into her bag. “You say that about every guy I talk to.”

“Yeah, because every guy you talk to is a dick.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know him.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “I don’t need to. He’s the kind of guy who thinks girls are collectibles. You’re just the rarest one he’s found.”

Y/N stilled for half a second before shaking her head. “It’s not that deep, Sunghoon.”

But Sunghoon saw the way she looked away. The way her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

And a few months later, when Minjae stopped texting her back, when she acted like she didn’t care but refused to talk about it—Sunghoon wasn’t surprised.

Because this was how it always went. The pattern didn’t change.

In college, Jisung, the musician, was next. He played guitar, wrote songs about girls, and never answered her messages until after 11pm. Then there was Taehyun—the business major with expensive cologne and cold smiles.

“You know, I’m starting to think you like assholes,” Sunghoon muttered one night, arms crossed as he watched Y/N stare at her phone. She was waiting for a text that wasn’t coming. Again.

“I don’t—” she started, but Sunghoon gave her a look, and she groaned. “Okay, fine. Maybe I have bad taste.”

Sunghoon snorted. “Maybe?”

Y/N shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

Sunghoon leaned back against the couch. “You could do better.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Says who?”

He frowned. “Says me.”

Y/N stared at him for a long moment. Then she shook her head. “I don’t need saving, Sunghoon.”

“I never said you did.” His voice was quieter now. “I just think you deserve more than this.”

Y/N forced a smile, but Sunghoon could tell it was fake. “It’s just how things are, Hoon.”

And for the first time, Sunghoon realized—she actually believed that. She wasn’t picking these guys by accident.

She was picking them because she thought this was what love was supposed to feel like. Like something she had to earn. Like something that was never really hers to keep.

And Sunghoon hated itl He hated that no matter how much time passed, no matter how much she grew, a part of her was still that little girl standing in the driveway, holding onto something that wasn’t hers.

Y/N felt the air shift.

She hated when he looked at her like that—like he saw through everything she tried to pretend wasn’t there. Like he could pull apart the walls she had spent years building.

So, she did what she always did when things got too real.

She changed the subject. “Anyway,” she said, stretching out on the couch like they hadn’t just been having a conversation about her terrible taste in men. “My dad’s company is hosting a gala this weekend.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Y/N gave him a look. “And I need a date.”

He let out a short laugh. “And you’re asking me?”

She shrugged, playing it cool. “You clean up okay.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “Wow. What a compliment.”

Y/N smirked. “I’m serious, though. You should come. You always used to come with me since we were six, and it’s been a hot minute since you’ve been to one.”

Sunghoon leaned his head back against the couch, exhaling. “That’s because I hate them.”

She nudged his leg with her foot. “Come on. Free food, expensive drinks, and you get to see me in a dress that costs more than your rent.”

He gave her a look. “You suck at convincing people.”

Y/N gasped dramatically. “Excuse me, I’m extremely persuasive.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, but she could see the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to smile. He didn’t answer right away, though.

Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Y/N. Work’s been kind of crazy lately.”

Y/N paused. Sunghoon had been busy. Busier than usual.

His job had been demanding more of his time, and even though he never complained, she could tell he was stretched thin.

Which meant, She shouldn’t push him and just let it go.

But instead, she nudged him again. “You don’t have to stay long. Just come for a bit. Keep me entertained. Prevent me from dying of boredom while old men talk about box office numbers.”

Sunghoon sighed, tilting his head to look at her. She knew she was winning. Finally, he exhaled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Y/N grinned. “That’s all I ask.”

Y/N had convinced herself he wasn’t coming.

She had checked her phone earlier in the night, almost instinctively, and there were only two more hours left of the gala, but there was nothing. No messages. No missed calls. No Sunghoon.

And maybe that was for the best. Y/N sighed leaning against the side of the balcony. The gala is still in full swing behind her—inside, the music is soft and elegant, the people even softer, pretending she don’t notice the flashing cameras catching her every move. But out here, on the rooftop balcony, the air is cold, and there are no cameras. No curated performances. No audience.

Sunghoon didn’t belong here. Not in a room full of people who only knew how to love things they could use. Not in a world where everything was polished on the surface but rotting underneath.

She had spent years pretending it didn’t bother her. That she didn’t care. That the weight of always being wanted—for her name, her beauty, her family—wasn’t suffocating her.

So when the producer’s hand slid onto her waist, she couldn’t move. When his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along her back, she didn’t flinch. And when he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered something she didn’t even process—the smile pressed on her face felt automated.

Because that’s what she was supposed to do.

She was supposed to smile. Supposed to let it happen. She was supposed to pretend like it didn’t make her stomach twist with something dangerously close to nausea.

And then—

A hand wrapped around her wrist. Firm. Steady. Familiar.

Her breath caught. Before she could react, before she could even see him, the warmth of Sunghoon’s grip pulled her back—out of reach, out of the producer’s hold, out of the moment where she had almost let herself disappear into nothing.

She turned sharply, and there he was. Sunghoon.

Standing between her and the man she had been too afraid to push away.

She couldn’t even process the look on his face. Not anger, not jealousy—just quiet, seething disbelief. Like he couldn’t believe her. Like he couldn’t believe she was letting this happen.

The producer’s hand fell away, a flash of irritation crossing his face as he looked Sunghoon up and down. Disinterested. Unimpressed.

“And you are?” the man asked, tilting his head unamused.

Sunghoon didn’t even blink.“Someone who knows she doesn’t want this,” he said, his voice calm, but sharp enough to cut.

She felt something in her chest tighten.

The producer scoffed, shaking his head as if Sunghoon were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “I don’t recall asking you.”

Sunghoon smiled then, but there was nothing friendly about it. “That’s because I don’t care.”

And just like that, the power in the room shifted. The producer let out an annoyed breath, muttering something under his breath before taking a step back. Not worth the trouble.

Not with Sunghoon’s gaze burning into him like a warning.

And then, they were alone.

Sunghoon was still holding her wrist. Not tightly, but firmly enough that she could still feel it.

For the first time that night, she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

But when she looked up at him, his expression was unreadable.

Not relief. Not comfort. Just disappointment. 

“You’re overreacting,” she blurted out before she could stop herself hugging herself, as if it put more space between the walls she placed between them

Sunghoon leans against the railing, watching her pace in front of him. She’s still in her expensive gown, still wearing diamonds in her ears, but her mask has finally slipped. Her arms are wrapped around herself, and her expression is sharp, defensive.

She’s ready to fight him, even though he’s not sure why.

“You’re overreacting,” she repeats, the words clipped. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Sunghoon exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You let that guy put his hands all over you,” he says. “And you laughed like it was nothing.”

She lets out a breathy laugh, not amused in the slightest. “Oh, please. That’s what you’re upset about? He’s a producer, Sunghoon. You can’t just—”

“I don’t care who he is,” Sunghoon cuts her off, jaw tight. “You looked uncomfortable, and you didn’t do anything about it.”

Y/N scoffs, turning away. “What did you want me to do? Make a scene? Give the tabloids something to talk about?”

“I wanted you to respect yourself,” he fires back, stepping closer, once she stepped away. “I wanted you to stop acting like you have to let people treat you like—”

“Like what, Sunghoon?” she snaps, spinning around to face him. Her eyes flash with something dangerous, something almost like betrayal. “Like I don’t belong to myself? Like I have to be something I’m not just so people will keep loving me?” She lets out a sharp breath. “Newsflash—that’s my whole life.”

Sunghoon stills.

She’s angry, but more than that, she looks like she’s about to break apart at the seams.

Her whole life has been about control, about perception, about playing the part that everyone expects of her. And Sunghoon? He’s the one person who’s never asked her to be anything other than herself.

And right now, that feels like a threat.

“You don’t get to be mad at me,” Y/N snapped, arms crossed, eyes flashing. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

Sunghoon exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I know that.”

“Then why do you care so much?” she presses. “Why do you always act like I owe you something?”

He’s silent for a long time. Too long. Long enough for the anger in her expression to shift into something closer to panic—like she knows she’s about to lose something she never really acknowledged was hers in the first place.

“I don’t act like you owe me something,” he finally says. His voice is softer now, but somehow that makes it worse. “I just… I’ve spent years watching you hurt yourself. And maybe that’s my fault for sticking around so long.”

Her breath catches. “Sunghoon—”

“I love you,” he says, and it’s not a confession, not really. It’s just the truth. A truth that’s been sitting between them for years, unspoken, unavoidable.

“But I can’t be the only one who wants this,” he continues, shaking his head. “I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me.”

She doesn’t know what to say. For the first time in her life, words fail her.

Sunghoon lets out a quiet, almost bitter laugh. “I’ll always be here,” he says, stepping back. “But I can’t keep waiting for you to be ready to love me back.”

Then, for the first time since they met as kids, he turns and walks away first.

Y/N doesn’t think.

Her body moves before her mind catches up, feet clicking against the polished floor as she lunges forward, fingers reaching as she grabs his wrist.

“Wait.”

Sunghoon stops. His shoulders tense under the dim rooftop lights, his breath slow and controlled, but she can tell by the way his fingers twitch at his sides—he wasn’t expecting this.

She wasn’t expecting it either, but suddenly, she’s terrified of letting him leave.

He turns slightly, just enough for her to see the side of his face. His expression is unreadable, but she knows him well enough to notice the cracks beneath the surface. The clenched jaw. The way his lips press together, like he’s bracing himself for impact.

She swallows, her grip tightening for half a second before she forces herself to let go.

“I’m sorry.”

The words are soft, barely audible over the muffled sound of the gala behind them. She sees the way his brows twitch, the subtle flash of something unreadable in his eyes.

But he doesn’t say anything.

So she keeps going.

“I don’t—” Her throat is tight. She exhales sharply, pressing her fingers against her temple as if that will stop the whirlwind of emotions threatening to tear through her. “I don’t know how to do this, Sunghoon.”

Silence.

She lets out a quiet, almost bitter laugh, hugging herself. “I don’t know how to be loved like this. I don’t know how to choose something when I’ve spent my whole life being told who to be. And I know that’s not an excuse, I know that’s not fair to you, but—”

Her voice wavers.

Sunghoon exhales through his nose, his fingers flexing slightly before he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“But what?” His voice is quiet now. Steady.

She lifts her gaze, eyes searching his like she’s hoping he’ll have the answer for her.

“But I don’t want to lose you.”

The confession leaves her lips before she can stop it.

Sunghoon inhales sharply, his gaze flickering with something she can’t place.

She looks away. “You’re right,” she says. “I let people treat me like I don’t belong to myself. I let them decide what I’m worth, what I should be, who I should love. But you’re the only person who ever made me feel like—” Her breath catches, fingers curling into the fabric of her dress.

“Like what?”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Like I don’t have to pretend.”

The words feel raw, ripped straight from the part of her she keeps locked away. And for the first time in years, she’s not sure what he’s going to say next.

Because if he walks away now—if he lets her go—she knows she’ll never find the courage to say this again.

Sunghoon doesn’t move for a long time.

Then, slowly and carefully, he turns. His gaze finds hers, searching, cautious, as if he’s trying to figure out if she means it this time. And for once, she lets him see the truth. She’s scared. She’s messy. She’s figuring it out as she goes. 

After everything—after Sunghoon’s words, after her own confession, after the way his fingers tightened around hers—Y/N should have felt something shift.

But the city below was still loud, the gala behind them still glowed with artificial warmth, and the weight pressing against her ribs hadn’t disappeared.

She exhaled, slow and measured, her fingers still laced with his. It wasn’t tight. He wasn’t holding her there. She could let go if she wanted to.

She didn’t.

Sunghoon was watching her, his expression unreadable, but he hadn’t pulled away either. The silence stretched between them, and for once, she didn’t try to fill it with empty words.

She had already said too much.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

His voice was quiet, careful. He wasn’t asking as a demand, just… giving her an option.

For the first time in a long time, someone was giving her a choice.

She should have hesitated. She should have thought about what leaving meant, about the cameras, about what people would say, about the questions her father would have when this made headlines in the morning.

Instead, she nodded.

Sunghoon’s gaze lingered for a moment, like he was making sure, before he turned—hand still in hers—as he led her away from the balcony. They moved through the shadows, slipping past clusters of people too preoccupied to notice, and down the back staircase that led to the service entrance.

It was colder out here. No marble floors, no curated lighting—just the sharp scent of the city, the distant hum of traffic, and the occasional flicker of cigarette smoke from a waiter taking a break near the dumpsters.

It was the kind of place she wasn’t supposed to belong in.

But right now, it felt more real than anything inside that ballroom.

Sunghoon finally let go of her hand, just long enough to shrug off his jacket and drape it over her shoulders. She blinked at him, startled by the casual intimacy of it, but he didn’t say anything.

Didn’t even look at her.

He just stuffed his hands into his pockets and nodded toward the street. “Come on.”

Y/N followed.

They ended up at a small café a few blocks away—one of those twenty-four-hour places that smelled like burnt coffee and had chipped Formica tables. The kind of place Sunghoon used to take her to when they were kids, when she’d sneak out of her house just to feel like she had control over something.

Back then, he used to tease her for wrinkling her nose at the chipped mugs and sticky floors. But tonight, she didn’t say anything.

She just sat across from him in the worn-out booth, hands curled around the mug of tea he had ordered for her without asking.

The steam curled between them, and for a while, neither of them spoke.

Then, finally—

“Did you mean it?” Sunghoon’s voice was steady, but something in his expression was careful.

Y/N stiffened. “Mean what?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “That you don’t want to lose me.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Her fingers tightened around the mug.

She could lie.

She could say she didn’t know what she was talking about, that the moment had gotten to her, that none of it mattered.

But she had done that before.

And this time, when she looked at him—really looked at him—she could see it. The line between patience and letting go. The quiet resolve in his posture, in the way his jaw tightened, like he was bracing himself for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted.

She had spent her whole life playing roles for other people. But Sunghoon had never asked her to be anything except honest. So this time, she didn’t run. She didn’t pretend.

She just swallowed against the tightness in her throat, meeting his gaze as she whispered “Yes.”

Sunghoon exhaled, his eyes flickering with something she couldn’t quite place.

Three weeks of pretending nothing had changed. Three weeks of slowly pushing him away. Three weeks of answering Sunghoon’s texts like normal, of showing up when he called, of slipping into old rhythms because she didn’t know how to step into something new. 

But it wasn’t the same.

Because now—every time he looked at her, every time he spoke, every time his fingers brushed against hers like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch her anymore—she felt it.

The words she hadn’t said. The ones sitting at the back of her throat, burning like an open wound. She should have said it that night.

Should have said it when he looked at her in that awful little café, waiting for something—anything—that would make staying feel worth it.

But she hadn’t.

Because Y/N had spent her whole life being loved for all the wrong reasons. And the thought of being loved right—of being loved the way Sunghoon had always loved her—was terrifying.

Because it meant risking everything.

But now, as she stood outside his apartment, fingers curled into fists at her sides, she realized—

She was going to lose him anyway. If she kept waiting, if she kept hesitating, if she kept expecting him to read between the lines—He was going to leave for real this time.

And she couldn’t let that happen.

Before she even processed, her hand was curled and she was knocking on his apartment door. 

It was late, and for a second, she thought maybe he wouldn’t answer. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe he’d see her through the peephole and decide he didn’t care anymore.

The door opened.

Sunghoon stood there in a hoodie and sweats, his hair slightly damp like he had just showered, and for some reason, that made it worse.

Like this wasn’t some big dramatic moment for him. Like he had already decided to move on.

His brows furrowed. “Y/N?”

Her chest tightened. She swallowed, forcing herself to breathe.“Can I come in?”

A pause. Then, after a long moment—he stepped aside.

She walked in, arms crossed tight, shoulders curled inward like she was holding herself together with sheer force. She felt Sunghoon watching her, felt the weight of all the things left unsaid pressing down on the space between them.

She turned to face him. “I—” She stopped, exhaled sharply, then tried again. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Sunghoon blinked, clearly caught off guard. Confused. “…Do what?”

Y/N let out a small, humorless laugh. “This. Us.”

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. “There is no ‘us,’ Y/N.”

Her stomach twisted. “Sunghoon—”

“You made that pretty clear,” he continued, voice quiet but firm. “That night. And every day after.”

She clenched her jaw. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

Silence.

She hated this. Hated how distant he felt. How careful his words were now, like he was holding himself back. Like he was already halfway out the door.

She had never been afraid of losing anything before. But she was afraid of losing this.

Y/N took a breath. And then, before she could talk herself out of it—

“I love you.”

The words landed between them, soft but sharp, cutting through the space like a blade.

Sunghoon stilled.

For the first time since she walked in, really stilled—like he wasn’t sure if he had heard her right.

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling, curling them in and out, as she forced herself to keep going.

“I love you,” she repeated, quieter this time. “I— I don’t know what love is supposed to look like. I don’t know how to be good at it. But I know that I don’t want to spend another second pretending I don’t feel this way.”

His lips parted slightly, his expression unreadable. Y/N felt something crack inside her chest.

Because he wasn’t saying anything. And maybe she was too late. Her breath hitched, and suddenly she felt small, like the walls were closing in, like she had just ruined everything. She turned quickly, heading for the door.

But before she could reach it, a hand wrapped around her wrist.

Firm. Steady. Familiar.

Her breath caught.

“Say it again,” Sunghoon murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

She swallowed hard, eyes burning. “…What?”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Say it again.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Sunghoon, I—”

“Y/N.”

She inhaled sharply, turning back to face him. And then, with her heart pounding against her ribs—

“I love you.”

She felt the way his fingers twitched against her skin. The way his breath caught, just for a second.

Then, before she could second-guess it—Sunghoon pulled her in. Not gently. Not carefully. Like he had been waiting for this for years.

Her hands fisted in his hoodie as his lips crashed into hers, all warmth and desperation, like he was making up for lost time.

She let him. Because she had spent her whole life pretending. And for the first time, she didn’t have to.

NOTE: AHHHH it's been so long since I've posted any of my own writing, well to be exact this is my second time. I hope you guys enjoyed this little AU, because my first writing was a drabble and this one is a oneshot. I'm not too sure when I will be posting again, but this was fun lololll, but thank you for the read. I appreciate reblogs and reposts, and your feedback too! i hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!

© yjw1a1

[justaparsec94]

Three Words

Summary: You and Tech spend some alone time together and some words are said. Requested by Anonymous, written for the prompts: Accidental I Love You's During Sex and Nuzzling The Others Neck and Breathing In Their Scent.

Pairing: Tech x fem!reader

Word Count: 6,399

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Explicit

Authors Note: Finishing off the February Fluff Requests with a Tech-is-alive-and-gets-the-happy-ending-he-deserved-AU. I hope this one turned out ok, Tech might just be the clone I find hardest to write! Thank you so much to everyone who sent in a request during February! I had so much fun writing all of them and I hope you enjoyed reading :)

************************

A happy sigh escaped you as you stretched, your joints popping, a satisfying pull in your muscles as you moved. You smiled softly to yourself, revelling in the feeling of the sun warming your still-wet skin for your earlier swim in the ocean. The rock beneath you was hot from the mid-afternoon sun, soothing the mild soreness in your muscles. You kept your eyes closed as you bathed in the sunlight, listening to the soft sounds of the ocean waves and the nearby laughter of Omega and Lyana as they played in the surf. 

Another gentle sigh escaped you as the feeling of complete contentedness washed over you. After years of fighting and being on the run life on Pabu was something straight out of a dream. It was still hard for you to believe that such a peaceful and beautiful place existed, especially when it seemed like the rest of the galaxy had fallen to terror and ruin. There were still times when the fear that The Empire would return would creep back in, but on afternoons like this one, it was easier to push those thoughts from your mind. You were fairly certain that you could spend the rest of your life on this particular rock and be happy. The gentle breeze, the warm sun, the feeling of the salt water drying against your skin, it was all very quickly lulling you into a state somewhere between sleep and wake. 

You were moments away from sleep when a shadow suddenly cast across your face, darkening your vision and causing you to frown. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky when you had laid down so the sudden interruption was unusual. Reluctantly, you peeped one eye open to look for the source of the disturbance. The disturbance, it turned out, was a welcome one and took the form of a tall, handsome clone. Your frown instantly vanished, replaced with a soft smile, both eyes opening as you gazed up at Tech. One of the very few people who could disturb you from a sunshine nap without consequences. He was still a few feet away but his height had effectively cast a shadow on most of your upper body. You peeled yourself up from the rock slightly, resting on your elbows as you took in the sight of him. 

“Hi,” You greeted softly, your heart rate picking up at the sight of him, just as it always did. 

His goggled gaze was intense as he took another few steps closer to you. His eyes trailing over the lines of your body left fire in their wake and you felt your face heat at the attention. You were wearing your usual swimming attire: a pair of repurposed athletic shorts and a bandeau bra, which he’d seen before but judging by the soft flush on his face it was having some sort of effect on him today.  You took a moment to look at him in return, life on Pabu had been kind to him, his skin glowed with a deep warm tan from days spent out in the sun, and his hair was longer than you’d ever seen it, still short but beginning to curl at the ends, and the simple shirt and pants he wore highlighted just how lean and fit he was. Your face flushed further as your heart seemed to stutter in your chest. Some days it was still hard for you to believe how lucky you were to still have him in your life. 

After a long moment, he cleared his throat, shaking his head lightly before taking another step towards you, “I-I am in need of your assistance.” 

You sat up fully, frowning slightly as worry suddenly bubbled up inside of you. Your eyes scanned him closely, he didn’t look unwell. In fact, he looked the exact opposite but you were concerned nonetheless, “Are you ok?”

“Oh,” Tech replied, sounding somewhat startled by your question, “Yes, I - of course. Nothing is the matter.” 

You weren’t entirely convinced but you accepted the hand he had outstretched to you without complaint. It had taken Tech the better part of a year to recover from the injuries he sustained on Eriadu, and even still there were some residuals. Stiffness in the way he carried himself, an occasional stutter or jumbled word, lapses in a once flawless memory, and a near-complete loss of verbal filter. He was still irrevocably Tech though, still the man you loved with every single piece of your heart. 

“Are you sure?” You asked again as you watched him stoop down to retrieve the loose linen shirt you had worn as a cover-up down to the beach that morning. 

Even before he’d been injured he had always downplayed when something was wrong and that had not changed. Perhaps you were overly cautious, a likely byproduct of watching him be on the brink of death for weeks, but you also knew he didn’t want to worry anyone else when something was bothering him. If anything, that reluctance had only gotten worse since his injury. So you continued to ask, at the very least to soothe your own worries. 

There was a gentle smile on his face when he straightened back up. He had looked somewhat nervous when he’d first approached you, but now all traces of that were gone,  “I am certain. I am currently functioning at an optimal performance level.” 

You chuckled softly at his words as he held out your shirt, gesturing for you to lift your arms. With a smile you slipped in, face continuing to flush as he helped you re-dress. Your skin tingled as his warm hands brushed against your thighs as he straightened out your hem. You smiled up at him as his one hand moved around the small of your back, bringing you in closer to him with a gentle nudge of his hand, the other lifted to brush a stray strand of hair back from your face. Your skin tingled at the contact and you could feel the beginnings of desire starting to pool in your stomach despite the innocent nature of his touch. 

“I am sorry to have disturbed you, you looked very peaceful,” He said softly, his gaze was warm as he traced the lines of your face. 

Your smile widened as you shook your head gently, “You’re never a disturbance, Tech.” 

He soft chuckle escaped him, one corner of his mouth crooking up in a slight grin, “Well, apologies nonetheless.”  

Before you could say anything else he turned his head to look at where his sister and her friend were still splashing about near the shore. 

“Lyana, Omega!” Tech called out to them, “Shep would like you up at his domicile within a standard half hour. He requires your assistance with a task.”

“You got it Tech!” Omega called, throwing a quick thumbs up at him before turning her attention back to Lyana. The three of you often spent your free afternoons either down by the beach or out on a boat. You all loved the water, the clones on the other hand were more reluctant. It seemed a lifetime of living in rainy conditions had made them slightly hydrophobic. 

You turned your attention back to Tech, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, “It seems like everybody needs assistance today…” 

“It would seem so,” He replied casually, but the way he avoided your gaze had you feeling both amused and suspicious. Usually, Tech was incredibly upfront and to the point about everything, so his vague request for your assistance was unusual. Your eyes narrowed as you looked at him, a question on the tip of your tongue but before you could ask he was speaking again. 

“I will explain once we are home,” He said as he grasped your hand in his own, “Come, cyar’ika.”

You flushed at the term, squeezing his hand tighter and following along behind him willingly as he turned and headed towards the stairs leading up to the top of the island. 

The walk up to the home you shared with the rest of The Bad Batch was peaceful, occasionally the two of you would stop to say hello to a familiar face but for the most part, you went undisturbed. Every once and a while Tech would look over at you, a flush high up on his cheekbones and such warmth in his eyes that you found your curiosity growing by the moment. You gave yourself a mental pat on the back for refraining from asking any more questions as you reached the door of your small home. 

You paused as soon as you passed through the threshold, noticing immediately how quiet it was. Usually, there was one if not multiple people in the house at one time. You knew exactly where Omega was but at this time of day, the absence of his brothers was out of the ordinary. You wracked your brain, trying to remember if they’d mentioned their plans when you’d all sat down for breakfast that morning but you were drawing a blank.

“Where is everyone?” You asked as you shut the door behind you. 

Tech turned around to face you, the same, almost mischievous smile from earlier still on his face, “Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair are currently out helping harvest crustacean traps. They will be gone until this evening.” 

“Oh,” You responded automatically before the reality of his statement sunk in. You were alone. And in a small house with 6 people living in it, alone time was very hard to come by, “Oh.”

Tech chuckled, reeling you closer until your body was pressed up against his own, "Our time alone has been insufficient as of late. I thought perhaps we could spend the afternoon together.”   

You chuckled, shaking your head fondly at the secrecy he had been maintaining the entire walk, “You could have just told me that.” 

Tech smiled, his face flushing even more, “I believed the surprise would be more… romantic.”  

“I suppose you are correct,” You replied with a quick laugh before you were standing up on your tip-toes, pressing a kiss to his lips. He lifted his hands to cup your jaw, head tilting down as he hummed against your lips. He was so warm and solid against you that your body immediately ached at the simplest of touches. 

He pulled away after a moment with a sigh, one hand trailing down to grasp your own once more. He gave your hand another gentle tug before he turned, heading towards the stairs that led to the second floor where your bedroom was located.

The house was tiny, a gift from Shep after they’d returned from Mount Tantiss, but it was yours and you loved it so completely. You and Tech shared one room, across the hall from where Hunter and Wrecker bunked together, Omega was further down the hall, while Crosshair claimed the one room on the main floor. After having nothing for so long, the brothers had come to love having their own space. 

You paused as you passed through the threshold to your room, the sight that greeted you causing your eyes to widen in surprise. Normally, your room tended to look more like a workspace. Bits and pieces of whatever project Tech was currently working on scattered about the place, sometimes even finding their way into the bed. You had lost count of the number of mornings you’d tripped over something or gotten a limb tangled in wire. Now though, the room was completely spotless, everything in its proper place, his projects neatly confined to the desk over in the corner. There was even a vase of freshly picked flowers sitting on one of the nightstands. The window shade had been pulled down, blocking out some but not all of the afternoon sun, bathing the room in a warm, dim glow. Small lights, that looked like spare parts from one of his projects, were a new addition strung around the room.

You couldn’t contain the soft smile on your face as you looked between him and the lights, eyebrows raised questioningly. 

“Ah, yes,” He replied, catching your gaze as he adjusted his goggles, “I conducted some research this morning, however, candles are impractical and an incendiary hazard so I hope these will suffice.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his adherence to fire safety but your heart felt as if it was swelling inside your chest. Just when you didn’t think you could love him anymore, he would go and prove you wrong, “Wow, you’re really pulling out all the stops.”

“Well, yes, of course,” He replied earnestly as he toed the door close behind you before he returned to your side. His touch was gentle as he grasped your forearms, his expression achingly soft as he looked at you, “You deserve nothing less.”

You felt yourself flush at the intensity of his look as you took a step closer to him, resting your hands against his waist. You noticed the slight flush had returned to his own face as he lifted a hand to rest against the junction of your shoulder and neck, his thumb gently tracing against your pulse point and sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart was thundering in your chest, desire pooling in your core as he gazed at you. 

You both moved at the same time, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw while your hands slid beneath his shirt to his back, pulling him in flush against you as your lips met. You moaned softly as his nose brushed against your own, his lips were so soft, almost hesitant at first before he deepened the kiss. His free hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you in even closer with a gentle nudge. Your body became completely alive under his touch, every nerve ending singing from the sensation of his skin on yours. 

You nipped gently at his lower lip, pulling a deep moan from his chest. The sound was thrilling, this part of your relationship was still relatively new, so every new discovery you made about him made your heart race. Normally, Tech was always so unflappable, calm, and collected in every situation, so being the one to make him come undone was an incredible feeling. 

Your relationship had progressed slowly, mostly out of circumstance, not because of any lack of feeling. It had only been a few weeks after the two of you had finally admitted to having feelings for one another that Tech had been injured. Afterward, he’d been so unwell for so long that a relationship had been the absolute last thing on your mind. Now though, being able to explore this phase of your relationship together was the best thing in the galaxy. 

Tech’s thumb brushed gently against your jaw for a moment before he was moving, placing gentle kisses down the column of your throat. Your head tilted back on instinct, your body arching forward into his, your skin on fire beneath his lips. He nipped gently at the skin over your pulse point causing you to shudder in his arms, desire flaring in your lower belly. 

Suddenly the fabric separating the two of you was too much. You needed to feel his skin on your own, needed to feel how warm, how alive he was. You moved your hands already beneath his shirt until you were tugging up his hem. Tech caught on quickly, lifting his arms up over his head so you could slide off his shirt. You took a half step back as you tossed it somewhere in the room, eyes raking over him. He may have no longer been a soldier but he was still built like one, all lean muscle beneath golden brown skin. Scars littered his chest and stomach, some much newer than others, some a reminder of what had happened, of what he’d survived. By now you knew every single one and had kissed every inch of his skin, but the desire to do so each time you saw him was still as overwhelming as the first. 

You barely had the time to enjoy the sight of him before he stepped into your space again, the heat of his body radiating through the thin linen shirt you were still wearing. A squeak of surprise escaped you as he suddenly moved, his hands wrapping around the back of your thighs and lifting you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he placed another soft kiss on your neck. He took a few steps back towards the bed until his knees hit the edge, lowering you both down until you were straddling him. Everything inside of you ached as he held you flush against him. You ground your hips against him, seeking the friction you so desperately craved and causing a soft moan to escape him. 

A gentle hand on your hip stilled you for a moment before it traveled down and then beneath your shirt, pulling it up and off of you swiftly, your bra following closely after. You shivered, the feeling of being skin-to-skin with him was nearly overwhelming and had you grinding against him once more as heat rushed through you. 

“Cyar’ika,” The word came out choked before he kissed you again, mapping a line from your shoulder to your collarbone, to your neck, to your jaw. Your fingers dug lightly into his shoulders at the feeling of his mouth and tongue on you, it was electric. It was both too much and not nearly enough. You wanted him so desperately you felt as if you might simply combust as he finally kissed your lips again, pulling your lower lip gently with his teeth as your hands wound into his hair. He groaned softly as you tugged gently on his curls before he tangled his tongue with your own. Everywhere your skin touched his ached, your pulse was racing beneath your skin as you deepened the kiss, nose brushing up against his own, the edges of his goggles pressing into your face. 

He pulled away after a moment and you had to bite your lip to keep in the whine at the loss of contact that threatened to escape you. He frowned before he lifted a hand and pulled off his goggles, tossing them haphazardly towards the nightstand beside the bed. They landed with a suspicious clunk but you were too busy looking at him to check on their wellbeing. You saw Tech without his goggles daily, he slept without them, but there was something different about seeing him without them in these types of moments. You didn’t mind but you knew he didn’t like the way they would sometimes press into your skin as you kissed and the slight distance they caused between the two of you. 

You lifted a hand to gently trace the lines of his cheekbone where his goggles normally sat, tracing the indent before moving down his face. Your hand paused momentarily, touch featherlight, as you reached the large scar beneath his left eye where his previous pair had cut into him. The wound had been terrible, so much so that even bacta hadn’t been able to fully repair the skin. Now it served as a faint, silvery reminder of everything he’d survived. Of how strong he was. 

“How did I get so lucky?” You asked softly as your thumb traced across his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment at the sensation before meeting your gaze once more, the look in his warm brown eyes so soft it made your heart feel as though it were constricting in your chest. Before you had met him you had never believed it possible to love another person so much. He just really loved to prove you wrong.

“Technically,” He started, a slight smirk appearing on his face, “the concept of luck is illogical-”

“Oh, no,” You laughed, shaking your head, “Not this again,” Before he could continue the speech you’d heard many times before you were kissing him again, effectively silencing him.

He hummed against your lips once more, one hand reaching back up to cup your jaw as he tilted his hips up into yours, increasing the friction you had been desiring earlier. He was achingly hard against you and the feeling of him pressing against your core had you gasping softly against his lips. He lifted his free hand to trail up your side, touch ghosting against your skin as he made his way up until he gently palmed your breast. Your nipple pebbled against his calloused hand, your own fingers digging further into his shoulders at the overwhelming sensations. 

“Tech…” You groaned, head tilting back as he kissed his way down your neck to the hollow of your throat, both hands moving to wrap around your waist as he continued to kiss his way down your body. His lips were scorching against your skin, every nerve ending on fire as he pressed a kiss to the swell of your breast before taking you into his mouth. You moaned again, hips automatically grinding into his as everything inside of you turned molten, lost in the feeling of his tongue on you. He moaned against you as you continued to seek out friction, rocking your hips into his own.  

Suddenly he was moving, lifting you up and turning before placing you down gently, your back resting against the pillows at the head of the bed. His hand trailed down your body, fingers hooking beneath the waistband of your shorts. Catching on you lifted your hips to allow him to remove your shorts in one smooth motion. You mourned the loss of contact as he pulled away from you, your body aching with desire for him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him better as he removed his own pants. He was so beautiful. Golden skin flushed with desire, hair mussed where your fingers had run through it, chest heaving slightly, warm brown eyes wide as he looked at you. It was thrilling to know you had done that to him. You wanted him just as badly. 

You smiled softly at him, cheeks flushing as you held out your hand to him. He immediately grabbed it, lacing your fingers together as he moved, kneeling on the bed until he was straddling you, long body hovering over your own. The heat of him was intoxicating and you squeezed your thighs together, able to feel where you were already slick and ready for him. 

“Beautiful…” he whispered before he bent his head to capture your lips with his own once more. You arched up into him, arms wrapping around his back, pulling him in close until your chests were touching once more. You shivered as his hand slipped between the two of you and paved a slow, torturous path down your body. You moaned, arching further into him as his hand found its way between your thighs. He hummed with pleasure at the wetness he found there, his thumb rubbing gently against your clit and sending all coherent thoughts from your mind. 

Normally, you loved his hands on you, he was an expert when it came to getting you off with those long, gentle fingers, but right now you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of you. You reached up to grasp the back of his neck, forcing him to look at you as you squirmed beneath him, your thighs shaking with desire as you clamped around him. 

“Please Tech,” You whined causing him to pause his ministrations, “I need you.”  

His eyes widened, his face flushing a deeper shade of red, as though your words had unmoored him. He moved his free hand to rest against your jaw, his thumb stroking at your cheek for a moment. His voice was full of emotion when he spoke again, his forehead tipping down to rest against your own, “Of course ner kar’ta. I’m yours.” 

You tilted your chin up to capture his lips with your own as he moved the hand between your legs to grasp the back of your thigh. He lifted your leg up and over his hip, giving him the space to slot between your thighs. He was painfully hard, the head of his cock gliding through your glistening folds as he rocked against you a few times. You gasped as he brushed against your clit, pleasure building to a nearly tortuous level inside of you. His breath was shaky between kisses, hair that was beginning to dampen with sweat falling across his forehead. He groaned as you nipped lightly at his lower lip, bringing it to your mouth. You canted your hips up just slightly, crying out with pleasure as he slid inside of you, filling you up so completely. 

The stretch of him was exquisite, it was a pure, blinding pleasure as he remained still for the moment, letting you adjust. His breathing was ragged, the lines of his body taut as he hovered over you. He let out another soft groan, his nose pressing against your own before he slowly started to move inside of you. 

“Gods, Tech,” You moaned as he found his rhythm. You felt as if you were on fire, your skin hot and flushed. Every touch from him made you shiver, your body becoming a squirming mess beneath him. He kept one hand on your thigh, keeping your leg up as he set a slow, even pace. The other went to the hollow of your throat, his thumb resting gently against your pulse point. The pressure inside of you was building at a blinding pace as he moved to kiss you again. 

It wasn’t enough to tip you over the edge of the orgasm that you were teetering on, you needed more. Sensing your desperation his pace increased as you locked your leg around his hip, bringing him in closer to you so that every thrust has him rubbing deliciously against your clit. You moaned, tilting your head back into the pillows as you canted your hips even further, meeting his thrusts. At that angle, he was hitting that perfect spot inside of you with each thrust. It only took a few more thrusts for you to go toppling head-first into ecstasy. 

You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you, clenching tightly around him, holding him close as pleasure rippled through your body. His pace faltered for a moment and he nipped lightly at your neck, tongue soothing over the spot a moment later as he let you ride out the tail end of your pleasure. Every nerve ending inside of you felt electric, blind pleasure making you feel loose and wonderful in all the right places. 

Finally, as you came back into yourself you lifted a hand to thread through his hair, holding him close as he continued to kiss your neck, your shoulder, down to your breasts. He started moving slowly again once your breathing evened out. The same slow, even pace from before, but you could feel the tightness in his body, feel the control he was trying to maintain as his own breaths were ragged, sweat glistening against his skin.

“Wait,” You whispered after a moment as a new desire suddenly filled your mind. 

Tech paused instantly, pulling all the way out of you and looking at you questioningly. You used his momentary stillness and your own momentum to your advantage, tangling your legs with his own and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. With strength that surprised even yourself you turned you both, pinning him beneath you on the mattress, your legs on either side of him. You smiled down at him victoriously as you braced your hands on his chest. He looked completely surprised, his face flushing red as he looked up at you with wide eyes that were swimming with desire. 

“My turn,” You replied cheekily, leaning down to kiss him deeply before you moved your hips and sunk down onto him.

A choked groan escaped him, his hands flying to your hips as you took him to the hilt. You took a deep breath, head tilting back as you adjusted to the overwhelming sensation of being filled by him in this position. Slowly you rose, finding a steady pace, your fingers digging into the muscles of his chest as you rode him. Within moments Tech was squirming beneath you, his grip on your hips wonderfully tight as he began to meet you thrust for thrust. His skin was incredibly flushed as you placed a kiss on the column of his throat, his breathing even more ragged than before as you slowly began to increase your pace. 

He let out a soft swear, which had your own eyes widening in surprise, Tech never swore. You faltered slightly, wondering if maybe it was too much but his grip only tightened, his voice a raspy croak when he spoke, “Please, cyar’ika, do not stop.” 

It felt as if your heart skipped a beat, your own desire increasing rapidly as you watched him come undone beneath you. You resumed the same pace as before, leaning in closer to him to kiss along his jawline, nipping and lathing at his skin in equal measure as whispered swears and terms of endearment continued to slip out of him. 

In this position you were rapidly building towards another orgasm, your body clenching around him with each thrust, the exact right amount of pressure rubbing up against your clit. Tech leaned up to place a kiss against your collarbone as one hand moved from your hip to around your waist, keeping you close as you continued to ride him. A shaky exhale of air left him as he swore softly once more. His thrusts up into you become more frantic. 

The next words out of his mouth were so quiet you barely heard them, “Gods, I love you.”   

Your rhythm faltered momentarily as your brain caught up with the words he’d just said. Had he actually said that or had you just imagined it? 

Tech had suddenly stilled beneath you, a choked moan escaping his throat as your body clenched tightly around him. When you pulled your head back slightly to look at him his eyes were wide, his cheeks and the tips of his ears red. Clearly, you hadn’t misheard and he had just realized what he had said. 

You tried to ignore it, tried to find your rhythm again, but your thoughts were completely jumbled. The orgasm you had been building towards was now just a whisper of desire in your stomach. He’d never said that to you before. You knew that in his own unique Tech way he cared for you deeply, he called you just about every term of endearment in Mando’a, but the love word had never come up. You knew that it was just said in the heat of the moment, that you shouldn’t look into it too much but now that your brain had caught on to the thought it couldn’t seem to stop. 

A firm squeeze to your hip had you stilling completely. When you met Tech’s gaze he looked embarrassed, his face redder than you’d ever seen it. Your heart felt as if it was bottoming out inside of you at the expression on his face. 

“I-I apologize,” His voice trembled with emotion as he spoke, "I did not intend to make such an admission.”

“Oh,” You managed to squeak out, which was impressive considering the emotions that were welling within you suddenly were completely overwhelming. It was ok, you tried to tell yourself, he didn’t love you yet but maybe one day he would. This was enough, what you had was good, and you could live with this. 

“I have upset you,” He stated matter of factly, drawing your attention back to him. With impressive strength he pulled himself up against the head of the bed into a seated position, bringing you along with him. You moved off of him but remained straddling his lap while your heart pounded painfully in your chest. 

“No, no Tech it’s fine,” You replied, and it was fine. Everything was fine. 

“No, I misspoke,” Tech insisted, his voice taking on its typical clinical and straightforward quality.

You lifted a hand to rest against his face, trying to reassure him as much as you were trying to reassure yourself, “It’s ok, I understand. The heat of the moment and all that…”

Tech’s eyes widened and he shook his head, he lifted a hand to grasp the one you had on his face, pulling it into his own, “That is not what I meant,” He started softly, his eyes suddenly warm with emotion, “I had intended to make that admission in a more… romantic setting. Not during an amorous encounter.”

“Oh,” You started before the weight of his words fully sunk in, “OH.”

Tech chuckled softly as you looked at him in surprise, your voice a high-pitched squeak when you spoke again, “You love me?” 

“Well yes, of course,” He stated matter-of-factly as he lifted his free hand to push some loose hair away from your face. His expression turned serious as he continued, “Though I do not find that one word sufficient enough to explain the depth of my feelings for you.” 

For a moment you thought that maybe you had died, or maybe that it was all just a dream but then he was kissing you again with such passion that you knew it was real. He loved you. 

You hummed with pleasure against his lips, hands moving to wrap around his shoulders as his own arm banded across your waist, pulling you flush against him once more. You felt as if you were floating, your heart hammering in your chest as desire flared in your core once more. He loved you. 

You both moaned as he entered you again, heat pooled in your stomach as you met his thrusts, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you found a rhythm together once more. He moved his lips to your shoulder, kissing a line back up to your throat as he thrust up into you. The spark of desire in you had turned into an inferno, rapidly hurtling towards another orgasm as you increased your pace, taking him all the way into you before nearly rising all the way off. The pull of him against you, the way he filled you so completely was completely overwhelming. You ground against him with each thrust, your clit rubbing against the base of him, you were so close that it was nearly painful. 

Tech placed a kiss beneath your ear before pulling away just slightly, his lips ghosting against the shell of your ear as he spoke again, “I love you,” His free hand slipped between your bodies, and his words combined with the soft pressure of his hand against your clit had you tumbling over the edge once more. You cried out again as your orgasm washed over you, your fingers digging even tighter into his shoulders as your head tilted to rest against his own. You squeezed your eyes shut tight as you allowed the sensations coursing through your body to completely take over you. You felt his pace falter, his entire body went ridged for a moment as his hips jerked against your own. He moaned loudly, burying his face into your neck as his own orgasm followed. 

You were both quiet for a long moment, heads resting together as you both tried to regain some control over your breathing. You felt as if you might just completely melt against him, satiated in a way that made your limbs feel completely loose. 

His hold on you was still tight as your breathing began to even out, he moved his head slightly, brushing his nose against you before pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. You sighed in contentment, there was really nothing more that you wanted than to spend the rest of your days in his arms. 

Eventually, he moved, rolling you both until you were lying side by side in the bed. You curled into him, your head resting on his chest as he pulled a thin sheet up to cover you both, the sweat on your skin was rapidly drying and leaving you with a slight chill. He made a content noise as you nuzzled further into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and breathing in his scent as he trailed a lazy hand up your spine. 

You pulled your head back just slightly to watch him as he reached for his goggles, putting them back into place before he turned to look at you once more. His expression was achingly soft as your gazes met. It made your heart twist in your chest, a soft smile forming on your face as you continued to look at him. You stretched your head forward to place a soft kiss against his cheek before you settled back down against his chest. It was quiet for a long moment, his hand continuing to rub gently against your back as you listened to the steady beat of his heart.

“Tech,” you said softly after a while, causing his hand to pause, “I love you too.” 

You tilted your head back up to look at him, meeting his wide-eyed gaze. He looked surprised by your admission which only made you chuckle softly. 

He shook his head after a moment, a small smile appearing on his face, “Perhaps, I am the lucky one, after all.”

Your eyes narrowed playfully at him but you were unable to keep a smile off your face, “You said you don’t believe in luck…”

“Yes, well, I may be convinced otherwise if provided with enough concrete evidence,” He said as he lifted his hand to cup your jaw, “And you being in love with me is very convincing.”

You laughed softly, heart soaring in your chest as you leaned up to kiss him once more. Of that, you were completely certain, despite all the odds you were together, you were happy, and both lucky in love.

[love-byers]

You can tell that some Milkvan’s have never had someone they’re close to come out to them before because Mike’s whole storyline is exactly like watching someone in your friend group or your family slowly figure out their sexuality. We don’t have the full picture and we’re not going to until he allows it. I think Milkvan’s expect him to be more obvious or something if he was queer but those people seem to forget that he’s a gay kid in the 80’s. This isn’t some Love, Simon-esque film where the whole school is going to clap for him when he finally comes out and gets the guy. It’s gonna be more like pitchforks and torches all “hunt the freak” like they did to Eddie. It was scary when I came out in 2018. It’s still nerve racking to come out now in 2025. In the 80’s, I can imagine it would feel absolutely terrifying just to think that you might be different than those around you. You have no one to turn to or confide in. Any library article or newspaper would be filled with horrifying details, slurs, death, or just spewing some religious bullshit. Nothing helpful or positive. Theres no GSA at school. There’s no nice queer corner of the internet with a helpful “Am I gay quiz?” like in Heartstopper. Just a kid with confusing feelings in a homophobic town with no one to guide him. Mike’s story is the most genuine depiction of internalized homophobia I’ve ever seen in a character. Mike and Will’s love story is beautiful and honest and I wish more people would open their eyes and see it instead of blindly believing in a story that has already been told time and time again. Representation matters. Good representation matters more. Calling us delusional just fuels the problem.

yes yes yes

most of the toxic milevens i encounter are extremely ignorant to the queer experience and queer history. they don't understand just how dangerous it was for gay men in the 80s, and they have no sensitivity towards it. i saw one in a tiktok comment section say "if mike is gay why would he date a girl instead of will??" ...........................

they don't understand that will is representing a very significant aspect of the 80s, that ofc being queerness during the aids epidemic. they've acknowledged that will has been called slurs TO HIS FACE since he was a small child. the whole town assumed he had been HATE CRIMED. they've reinforced it to the point that it would be DIABOLICAL to give will a sad or bitter sweet ending. because they didn't just make him gay, he had to be in love with mike too. they've shown that will has been called queer his entire life, before he even met mike. his love for mike wasn't used to reveal his sexuality, they did that through the bullying and moments like the girl playing footsie with him in s4. his feelings for mike were not necessary. will's arc could've simply been about him being afraid that his friends won't accept him and masking it to them and mike for that reason. but no, on top of everything else, he had to be in love with mike. like im sorry but getting rejected would contribute absolutely nothing to his arc

also, will and mike are interesting as queer characters (assuming mike is queer ofc) because they are representing the different kind of experiences. will is queer, and the world assumed he was queer too. mike is queer, but the world assumed he was straight. it is unfortunately easier to realize your sexuality when you've had it spouted in your face since you were a small child. we haven't really been shown that will struggled to realize or accept his sexuality at any point. the only person with that coding is mike wheeler. who, like i said, the world (for the most part) assumed was straight. it is a different experience when you have no one pointing it out like will did, mike realizing his sexuality has to come completely from his own internal battle. and it's really difficult, especially given that mike was deep into a relationship when he realized, or at least started suspecting it. mike was the one being weird at the airport and rink o mania because he's in crisis mode internally. will isn't, will knows who he is and has probably known it in some way for a while. that just isn't mike's experience, so of course it will be different for him. milevens think that because he wasn't portrayed exactly how will was queer coding wise means that he's not gay. like i said, they have little understanding of the queer experience it seems

[tmrwsuns]

(𐙚⋆.˚) rainy days

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ [asakura jo x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 1k w. curse words! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

requested!

rainy days used to make you sad.

the way the sky would gloom, the sun far gone as the world just wept.

maybe it cried because it was lonely, because life is unfair and it felt like it was losing itself in the fast passing clouds.

or maybe that was just you, and you liked to project.

but it wasn’t like that anymore, not since jo came into your life.

he was like a ray of sunshine that caresses your face, warming your body from the inside out and filling you up with serotonin. you had met, ironically, on a rainy day where the sky seemed to want to drown you on your walk back home from the convenience store.

that, until you felt a presence by your side and an umbrella over your head. you had seen him before around your apartment complex, but he always averted his eyes the minute they connected with yours.

it wasn’t any different then, his attention stuck to his shoes like they were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

his warmth made your day then, and it has been ever since.

“yeah, so then she got upset at me because i didn’t want to go all the way to her house” you mumbled, your head resting on your boyfriend’s tummy as you stared at the ceiling.

“you’re so mean to the poor woman,” he mumbled, absentmindedly playing with the strands of your hair as he listened.

“i’m not, i just won’t go all the way there to teach her how to get into netflix when i can do it over the phone,” you defended, rolling on your side to cuddle closer to him.

he was so warm against your cold skin. so beautiful and comfortable that you felt like you could just stay there forever. you knew he wanted to, too. judging by the way his entire demeanor seemed to just soften around you, or how those tall walls of shyness he always carried around him disappeared the moment your presence made itself known in the room.

“she probably just wants to see you, angel,” he commented, his voice soft as ever once his eyes had actually caught yours.

“well, she has a lot of free time and money for uber, she can come here” you shrugged, incorporating back up from your laying position to scoot up closer to his face.

“you’re terrible,” he smiled, as fond as anyone could ever look.

“you love me,” you smiled back, grabbing his cheeks and squishing softly. a small giggle escaped your lips at the sight of his now pouty lips, enticing you to duck slightly and kiss him. you know how jo’s kisses worked, though. if you started, there was no stopping you until both of your lips were sore and red from the incessant contact.

“maybe i do,” your boyfriend said, his words sounding muffled because of the current position of his face. 

without being able to control yourself any further, you attacked him with kisses; small pecks showering every inch of skin in his beautiful face with your undying and unwavering love. 

a chuckle escaped from his lips as his arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you into a bear hug and making you collapse on top of his body.

“stop, i'm going to burst at how cute you are,” he groaned, using the new control he had over your body to turn you around until he was the one laying on top of your body.

“hey! that’s my job,” you jabbed at the side of his ribs teasingly before wrapping your arms around his lengthy frame, allowing just enough space for him to move into a comfortable position.

jo moved slightly for a couple of seconds before reaching shelter on the crook of your neck. his body covered the majority of yours, but it didn’t matter. having him like this, you realized he was a sunray on a rainy day, a sort of reminder that there is always a rainbow after a storm.

“we’re going to your grandma’s tomorrow, by the way” jo’s voice broke the comfortable silence, eliciting a groan to escape past your lips.

“but it’s so far away, and we’ll have to stay there for hours,” you pouted.

“she told me she misses us and she sounded like she was about to bawl, it’s only fair” he shrugged, his face still buried on your neck as if he had found his new home.

“she does that because she knows you’ll fall into the trap!” you exclaimed, not being able to conceal the fond smile that made its way onto your lips, tinting your voice with a teasing tone. “you’re so weak willed.” 

“i am not,” your boyfriend complained, lifting from his hiding spot to glare at you playfully. “i just don’t want to see an old woman cry, if anything i’m a good person for wanting to make sure she’s not lonely.”

“sure, because she doesn’t literally live with my cousin,” you rolled your eyes, amusement shining in them. “she just wants to see you, it’s not even about me.”

“well, maybe she’d like you better if you visited her with me,” he teased. just then you noticed the way his hand had snuck under your shirt, tracing small circles in the skin of your waist.

“she’s fine, she had better company with you anyway,” you smiled, leaning closer to him to steal a quick peck. 

“hmm, sure” he mumbled, leaning back in to continue leaving cast kisses on your lips.

“enough about my grandma, what do you want to watch now?” you asked, pushing him back on the bed to lie back on his tummy, letting out a small sigh of contentment.

“whatever you want, princess” he smiled, his hand falling back into your hair to leave tiny forms of affection that he knew melted you completely. just like that, the rest of the rainy afternoon passed. jo’s warmth enveloped you completely, and there was nothing else you’d rather do than just exist together.

★ blue's corner ;; first ever tmrwsuns request we all cheered ! i really hope you like this<3 ★ taglist ;; @tiramisumin @astrasng @hyukabean @lovelyjuju ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @jaes1lvr

© tmrwsuns, 2025

[pacheonmaeng]

sqs romeo ver. red stage

[youvebeengalindafied]

Wicked (musical/movie) was really like “here’s a drop-dead gorgeous perfect beautiful young woman with super high cheekbones, dark dangerous eyes, and waist-length raven-black hair, who has a biting wit, is very passionate about everything, stands up against a fascist govt, wears a midnight-black homemade corseted dress that sweeps along the floor, and becomes really really hot when she goes a little crazy….. and everybody hates her because she’s green.”

[froginabogg]

babe wake up new bryce charles pictures just dropped

x x x x💜x x x x

[sysig]

Coming in to play! (Patreon)

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Silly Game Time: In honor of today, February 28th, being the last day of Black History Month, who are some of your favorite Black characters? And what do you like about them?

They can be from any media (movies, shows, books, comics, games, etc.) (OCs count, too). They can be explicitly of African descent, or they can be from a story where Earth and its continents and its history don't exist (like in many sci-fi and fantasy).

Myself, being a Star Wars fan, I quite like the two Jedi Cere Junda (a haunted survivor dedicated to rebuilding a source of light) and Mace Windu (a stern paladin of his order, fighting for civilization and democracy).

This is a tricky question- cause most people depict Jonathan Sims, head archivist of the Magnus institute, London as black but it’s never stated in canon.

Same with all the characters in high noon over Camelot. Tho I think at some point they were said to be poc??? But idk for suresies.

I’ve been really into podcasts and other non-visual media lately. So any of these characters could be black, it’s never stated.

Oh actually no- ANABELLE CANE! I might’ve spelled her name wrong.

Annabelle Cane, played by Chioma Nwalioba, is explicitly stated to be black in multiple statements (she is described as being a young black woman with bleach blonde hair and looking like, quote “a vintage clothing store exploded on her”) AND SHE IS FUCKING AMAZING-

I love the web so much. I love her voice so much. I love every episode she is in- she is one of my favorite avatars (right under Micheal and Jane Prentiss) I REALLY hope she shows up in Protocol cause she actually everything to me EVER

[claire-starsword]

ten billion years to get the debug mode of SF2 to work and it's this beautiful, zero context creep-ass screen.

[mariusroyale]

i truly fear the person i become when im on character ai

[dreampearls]

colleis personality functionally being left to the ether because her webtoon iteration is at such fundamental odds with her game iteration that any attempts to temper between the two just range so dramatically