#<- could be platonic or romantic up to you

[heethera]

˖*°࿐ •*⁀➷ 𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

➜ summary: jay’s always had everything. you were just the girl who followed him around until you became the one thing he couldn’t let go.

pairing: pjs x f!reader, wc: 16k words , genre: best friends to lovers, rich!jay, fluff, a wee lil angst w: rude jokes, cussing, kissing

When you were eight, your pet fish died. Jay, being the perfect friend, snuck out of his house, hoodie zipped up to his nose, and stood outside your door with a juice box and a Pokémon sticker. He didn’t say anything, just left them there with a note that read: “U ken yoos the stikr four yur dairi.”

He wasn’t the best speller, but he was the best friend you could ever ask for.

When you were thirteen, you stayed up until 3 a.m. on the phone, ranting about how some snotty new transfer from Australia, Sim Jaeyun said your feet looked “weirdly shaped.” Jay spent an hour trying to convince you that Jaeyun had a thumb that looked like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson and couldn’t tell a mermaid from a fish so he didn’t deserve to have opinions.

When you turned seventeen, Jay gave you his favourite hoodie before flying to Seattle for a month to visit his relatives. You wore it religiously while he was gone, just to feel a little closer to him. 

And till now somehow, Jay still orbited your everyday life.

“You’re late,” he said without looking up, eyes fixed on some game playing on the TV.

“I wasn’t even supposed to come today.”

“But you did,” he replied, finally turning to glance at you. His grin was lazy, a little smug. “Couldn’t stay away from The Jonginator 3000.”

“Gross,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Please never call yourself ever that again.”

You crossed the room and dropped onto the other end of the couch, knees curling up beside you as your shoulder brushed his. Jay made space for you without saying anything. 

“Here,” you muttered, digging through your tote bag and tossing a bag of chips his way. 

He caught it one-handed. “Oh, how you spoil me.”

“Well, that’s because you’re unbearable when you’re hungry.”

“And equally as charming when I’m full,” he added with a wink.

You bit back a smile, tilting your head with mock thoughtfulness. “Hm… I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate,” you said.

You liked to believe your friendship with Jay could weather even the strongest storms but lately, you weren’t so sure.

It wasn’t that anything had gone terribly wrong. 

It was quieter than that. Slightly more subtle? Things had just… started to change. Not in ways you could clearly name, but in the little things. 

You and Jay were friends. Best of friends, even.

Your mum had worked for his family for almost a decade, taking care of his grandmother, the same woman you’d come to call Grandma, too. Jay never minded. His grandmother never corrected you. If anything, she loved it. Jay was an only child, and without a granddaughter of her own, she’d folded you into her life without hesitation.

His family had always been kind. They treated your mum with respect, and you never felt looked down on.

But lately, something had started to shift. Nothing harsh or particularly cruel. Just… small things, little things you were starting to piece together.

Maybe it was the way people talked about the future now about colleges, cities, careers. Plans that didn’t involve waking up in your childhood bedroom. Plans that didn’t include walking into Jay’s room, knocking once before flopping onto his bed to rant about terrible Netflix documentaries you’d force him to watch.

But most of all, they were plans that didn’t include both of you.

Maybe it was the realisation that Jay was heading somewhere you couldn’t afford to follow.

And maybe Jay was starting to realise that too.

You loved him. Almost too much. You didn’t like putting a label on it. Romantic, platonic, it didn’t matter. All you knew was that he made you laugh when you wanted to cry, and he made you smile when you were knee-deep in anger.

And losing that? Losing him? Somehow, that scared you more than anything.

You’d left for the bathroom a little over five minutes ago, but it took nearly three just to get back to Jay’s room.

You were about to push open the door, fully prepared to return and absolutely obliterate him in the game you’d been playing, when you heard a voice.

“Baby,” his mum said gently.

You froze. Your hand hovered just above the doorknob. Something about her tone stopped you. It sounded serious… a little too serious for you to barge in like nothing.

So you didn’t.

You stayed where you were, just outside his door, waiting for the right moment to step in.

“Mom, I’m not going,” Jay said. You could hear the sound of him ruffling his hair, followed by a long sigh.

His mum exhaled softly. “Jong, it’s a tradition. The family went there. I went there. You—”

“I’m not going,” he repeated, firmer this time.

There was a pause.

“If this is about…” she began before letting out a deep breath. “Look, I love her. You know I do. I treat her like a daughter too, but baby, this is a big deal. You have one foot in the door and you’re throwing it all away?”

“Mom—”

“No, listen to me.” Her voice cracked slightly. “You can always come back to her, but this… this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

A long stretch of silence followed, thick and heavy, before she spoke again, softer now but still thick with tension.

“I’m not saying she isn’t good for you. She is. She’s smart, she’s pretty. She’s… kind. But do you really think the two of you have anything in common besides growing up together?”

Oh. Oh. Oh…

So this was how they saw you: not bad, not unworthy…just not enough. Not for him. 

“Baby,” she said, “the two of you are on different paths and…well, Jong, you were meant for greater things. Big things.”

Through the small crack in the doorframe, you caught a glimpse of Jay, sitting on the edge of his bed, brows furrowed, elbows resting on his knees. He wasn’t answering. He looked like he was thinking about it.

That hurt more than anything.

You backed away quietly, each step careful, like even your breath might give away that you had been listening. When you reached the top of the stairs, you glanced down at your feet, your socks, mismatched and worn. They had never felt like such a statement before. And now, in this house, with its icy cold Italian marble floors, they felt impossibly…prominent.

You were rushing toward the door when something made you pause. The second living room, the one you’d always walked past, never into. You turned, just a little, just enough to see it.

The walls were lined with frames. Studio portraits of Jay and his parents, always dressed to the nines, always looking like they belonged on the cover of some high-society magazine. There were formal family shots with his extended relatives, his cousins in their prep school uniforms, their parents with Rolexes and pearl earrings, champagne glasses in hand at some gala that probably changed the world without you knowing.

Then your eyes landed on the final frame tucked in the corner.

Jay, standing beside the minister at a government scholarship ceremony. A navy suit that fit him too well. His parents beaming on either side of him. The plaque in his hand gleaming. You remembered that day vaguely, he had texted you something self-deprecating about tripping on stage. You had laughed then.

You weren’t laughing now.

Because all of it somehow was starting to feel like a mockery of just how different your worlds really were. There was a bitter sting in your chest, and you weren’t sure if it was jealousy over a life you’d never live, or the ache of knowing someone you liked so much came from a place you could never quite reach.

While Jay had birthday dinners at restaurants you didn’t even know existed, yours were made of takeout leftovers and cakes baked in a neighbor’s oven. Jay had a whole wall of proof that he belonged. And all the while, you didn’t even have matching socks.

—

Jay: Did you just leave? Without saying goodbye? 🙁

You didn’t reply.

You were too deep in your own spiral…spinning, crashing, drowning in thoughts you didn’t ask to think. His mom had been right. About everything.

She hadn’t been cruel. She hadn’t even sounded angry. Just… honest. Like a mother trying to protect her son from making a mistake. And maybe you were the mistake. You knew she liked you. You knew the whole family did. But that didn’t change the fact that you’d always been her daughter, the caregiver’s daughter. Not one of them. Not really.

And for the first time in your life, you felt it, not just the distance, but the pity. Ten years of your mom’s hard work, all the quiet pride she carried, all the long nights and it suddenly felt like none of it mattered. You were just the tagalong. A nice girl with nowhere better to be.

You were never someone in that house. You were just... there.

Your phone lit up again.

Jay: I’m coming over.

Your eyes flew open. “Damn it–” you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie.

You: Don’t.

Jay: Huh?

You: I’m fine.

Jay: But you left so soon?

You: I had to take a shit so I left.

There was a pause.

Jay: I have a bathroom, you idiot.

You: It’s too fancy. I like mine better.

Jay: LOL well at least say goodbye next time. I went around the house like an idiot looking for you for 10 whole minutes.

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering. You wanted to say more. 

But you didn’t want him to pity you too.

—

Jungwon stood beside you, rhythmically tapping two fingers against your back, drumming out a song only he could hear. You hunched forward at the front desk, shoulders tense, chin propped against your palm as you glared at the dusty computer monitor displaying your completely empty Tuesday schedule. 

You part timed at Goober Galaxy, an indoor playground targeted for kids ages 3 and up. Today was quiet. It was the perfect shift for a breakdown. Unfortunately, Jungwon hadn’t gotten the memo.

You swatted his hand away without even turning around. “Cut it out.”

He laughed, and leaned over the counter so that his chin now rested on his folded arms beside yours. “I’m bored,” he declared, eyes scanning your blank expression.

“Then go find something to do.”

“I like bothering you,” he said with a smile.

You turned to glare at him, grabbing the nearest pencil and holding it up like a weapon. “I’ll stab you with this.”

“Ooh, how scary,” he said, grinning wider. 

“Shut up.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out as sharp as it did. Jungwon blinked, his smile faltering just a little but only for a second. You dropped the pencil back onto the desk and folded your arms, slumping deeper into your chair. You’d been like this all day: distracted, fogged over, stuck in your own head with thoughts of you and Jay.

It’d been two days since you left Jay’s house without saying goodbye. Two days since you’d heard his mother’s voice echoing in the hallway, reminding him that people like you didn’t belong in their world. 

He’d been texting you ever since. But every time your phone lit up with his name, your heart clenched so hard it made you nauseous. You couldn’t answer. Not when you didn’t know how to exist next to him without feeling small.

You didn’t realize Jungwon had moved until he dropped onto the beanbag beside your stool with a dramatic huff, his legs splayed out in front of him, head tilted toward you.

“Okay,” he said, “seriously. Who is it?”

You didn’t answer.

“Come on,” he continued, tapping his foot against your shoe. “Tell the master of Women who has you acting up like this.”

“I highly doubt you even know what a woman is.”

You let out a breath through your nose and glanced at him. Jungwon’s dark hair tousled from where he’d been running his hand through it, polo shirt wrinkled, name tag barely hanging on. He was annoying and loud. But he was also one of the only people who understood what it meant to want more than you were allowed to have. You both had jobs instead of highly paid tutors, worn-out sneakers instead of new ones, savings goals that felt like they’d never be reached.

He didn’t know what was wrong. Not exactly. But he knew enough to ask.

Still, your voice caught in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud: I overheard Jay’s mom say I don’t belong in his world and I think she’s right and now I can’t even look at him without wanting to cry.

So instead, you mumbled, “It’s nothing.”

Jungwon didn’t push. He just leaned back with a sigh and said, “You know I’ll keep annoying you until you tell me, right?”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “I know.”

He grinned. “Cool. Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

You sighed then tilted your head toward him, your voice quiet. “D’you ever think we’ll be bigger than we are right now?”

Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. “I mean… I heard Mr. Kim say we stop growing after we turn 18, but I’m not too sure.” He tilted his head dramatically, thinking hard. “Though… I have been drinking more milk lately so all fingers crossed!”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant! I meant... just us. Will we ever be bigger than this? Than who we are now?”

He looked at you, his smile fading into something gentler. You didn’t usually say things like this. “Like... spiritually? Emotionally? Or like tax bracket-wise?”

You stared at him flatly.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, raising both hands in surrender. “I get it. You mean like, in the world.”

You nodded slowly, your voice tightening. “I mean…look at us….We’re just... two kids. Two random people in this giant fuckin’ world. And there are people out there who are so much bigger than us. So much more important. Doing things that matter. And we’re just here. Doing this.”

Jungwon leaned his head back against the beanbag, legs stretched out in front of him. He looked up at the ceiling for a long moment before shrugging. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “But I like where I am.”

You glanced at him, brows furrowed. “You like working for scraps?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Well... it’s a Tuesday afternoon, and I’m hanging out with the prettiest girl I know. So yeah. Not bad.”

You shoved his shoulder, trying not to smile. “Be serious, Won.”

His expression softened then, all teasing drained out of it. He shifted to face you more fully, his voice quieter. “Okay. You’re upset. And since it’s you, and you don’t get like this unless it’s something big, I’m guessing this is about Jay.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Jungwon reached out and gently poked your forehead. “Then let me say this clearly: you need to stop letting that big, overthinking brain of yours spiral.”

You exhaled shakily.

“I know Jay. Not like you do, obviously,” he added with a small grin, “but well enough. And I know, for a fact, that Jay doesn’t give a single fuck that we’re working at...” He looked around and grimaced. “Goober Fuckin’ Galaxy.”

You laughed.

“I’m serious,” he said, nudging your knee with his. “That guy looks at you like you invented…I don’t know…the freaking internet? It clearly doesn’t matter what job you have, or where you come from. You’re not small to him. Not to me. Not to Hee. Not to any of us.”

You didn’t reply, but something in your chest eased…just a little.

The bell above the entrance gave its usual pathetic worn out ding, but you didn’t look up…no one came to Goober Galaxy on a Tuesday. That was the whole point of working Tuesdays. 

“Uh oh,” he muttered beside you, sitting up from his beanbag.

“What?” you asked, barely glancing over.

“Lover boy incoming.”

Your brows knit together as you turned and froze.

Jay was standing in the entrance, chest rising like he’d sprinted from the subway (which he’s probably never taken), hair tousled in that way that looked both accidental and annoyingly perfect. In one hand, he held a bouquet of white daisies wrapped in soft brown paper. In the other, a box of chocolates with a ribbon tied so tight it was starting to crumple the corner.

And then you noticed it, the faint red splotches blooming across his knuckles, creeping up his wrist. His grip didn’t falter. Jay was allergic to flowers. You’d known that since forever, since the day he sneezed through an entire spring picnic and blamed the pollen for his watery eyes.

Your heart twisted.

Suddenly, you felt awful. And soft. And maybe a little bit in love all over again.

He walked straight toward you, eyes never leaving your face, and you hated the way your breath caught.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “I’m sorry.”

You blinked, completely thrown. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, pushing the flowers into your hands like they might prove his sincerity. “I don’t know what I did. But whatever it is, I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t even realize something was wrong until you stopped replying and then I thought maybe it was something I said or maybe I looked at you weird and—”

“Jay—”

“I was going to come yesterday, but I didn’t want to be pushy. And then I tried calling again this morning but I figured maybe you were busy—”

“Jay.”

He finally paused, breath short, his eyes scanning your face with desperation. And just like that, your chest ached in another way.

He didn’t know. He thought he did something wrong. And he came all the way here just to apologize for a mistake he didn’t even understand.

You looked down at the daisies, hands curling around the brown paper. The stems were still wet. Fresh, which means he got the flowers that day. 

God, he was sweet. Stupidly, painfully sweet.

Before you could say anything, Jungwon cleared his throat loudly from behind the counter. “Sooooo,” he drawled. “You got her flowers and chocolates? What do I get?”

Jay turned to look at him with the flattest, most unimpressed expression you’d ever seen. Without a word, he reached into his hoodie pocket, pulled out a single crumpled bill, and tossed it onto the counter.

“A dollar,” he said.

Jungwon stared at it. “That’s it?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t give you lint from my pocket.”

“Then…I’ll just have the dollar.” Jungwon muttered, pocketing the dollar.

Jay turned back to you, lips parted like he wanted to say more but the words didn’t come.

Jungwon hadn’t moved.

He was still standing there, hovering way too close, arms crossed, eyes bouncing between you and Jay like he was watching the tension build. His eyes crossing between you and Jay’s a silly grin on his stupid face.

You shot him a look. “Can you get lost?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “It’s Tuesday. I’m bored. I wanna see how this plays out.”

“You want entertainment?”

“Desperately.”

You sighed through your nose, then shoved the box of chocolates into his chest without looking. “Here. Take this. Go sit in the ball pit and eat this.”

He stared at the box, then back at you. “These are from him, though.”

“I don’t care. Just go.”

A smug smile bloomed on his face as he clutched the box. “You know what? Say less.”

And with that, he strolled off, climbing into the nearest corner of a giant ball pit, where he immediately sprawled across the plastic balls.

You turned back to Jay, your eyes flicking upward to meet his.

He was still watching you, brows drawn just slightly. His arms were at his sides now, hands twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for you or give you space. He didn’t know what he’d done, but he knew something had changed. And it was killing him.

You looked at the flowers still in your hands. You looked back at him. You weren’t sure which one made your chest hurt more.

So you said it.

“I heard what your mom said that day.”

His entire expression shifted subtly. His mouth parted, but he didn’t speak.

“I didn’t mean to,” you added, softer now. “I was coming back to the room and I just… I overheard the entire conversation.”

Jay’s shoulders tensed. He looked down for a second, then up again, jaw clenched, eyes searching your face. 

You swallowed. “I wasn’t avoiding you because I was mad. I just… I don’t know...I didn’t know how to act.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just blinked slowly, like the words were still settling into place.

“Look,” Jay said finally, his voice low but firm, “you don’t have to worry about it. I’m not going anywhere—”

“Jay,” you cut in, your voice sharper than you meant, “I’m not worried about that.”

You looked down, fingers tightening around the bouquet of daisies in your hands. The stems crinkled slightly in your grip.

“I’m not mad about what she said,” you said quietly. “I’m just... she’s right.”.

His mouth opened slightly, brows drawing together like he didn’t understand how those words could’ve come from you. His chest rose as if to argue, but he didn’t speak yet. He couldn’t.

You lifted your gaze slowly, and your throat burned. “She’s right, Jay. We don’t have anything in common besides growing up together.”

He shook his head immediately, stepping closer. “You’re more than what she said—”

“Jay,” you said again, this time with a bitter laugh laced into it, “who are we kidding?”

He sighed when you cut him off.

“I work in a stupid kids’ playground called Goober Galaxy. You’re in every high-end after school academy, tutoring centre, test prep institute money can buy. You’re made to get straight A’s, made to end up at some fancy university. Made to do something big. I’m not.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” he said, his voice cracking just barely at the edges. “Do you think I ever looked at you and saw anything less?”

Jay exhaled shakily and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “I’ve liked you since the day you showed up behind your mom in that stupid little yellow dress you hated. You were hiding behind her, and God—” he let out a soft laugh, almost breathless, “The moment you sat beside me, you punched me in the shoulder and said I had a dumb name. I’ve liked you since then.”

Your eyes fluttered up to glance at him, but only for a second, before dropping back to your shoes. He reached out gently, fingers brushing under your chin, and tilted your face toward his.

“I loved that version of you,” he said, eyes locked onto yours. “I love this version of you. I’ve never thought you were less than me. Not even once. It’s always been you.”

The silence that followed clung to the air, thick and trembling.

You stared at him, barely breathing, barely able to believe this was real. 

“Jay–”

“UH GUYS, CAN I COME OUT NOW?” Jungwon’s voice rang out, followed by a hacking cough. “I THINK I SWALLOWED THE RIBBON.”

You almost burst into laughter. Almost. 

But instead, you did the one thing you’d been aching to do for far too long.

You leaned forward over the counter and kissed him.

Jay froze for just a split second, stunned. His hand hovered uncertainly beside you, like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you. But his eyes fluttered shut, and when you pulled away, his lips chased yours like he didn’t want it to end.

His cheeks flushed immediately. He laughed softly, a little dazed. “I didn’t think today would end up like this.”

You smirked. “Do you want me to take it back?”

He shook his head quickly, still smiling. “No. I just... I wish it wasn’t in front of—”

The both of you turned.

Jungwon was now sitting fully upright in the ball pit, legs criss-crossed, waving at you. A half-eaten piece of chocolate dangled from his fingers.

“I think I’m the first person to ever witness a love confession in Goober Galaxy,” he said. “A sentence that has never, ever been said before in the history of mankind.”

Jay groaned and dropped his head onto the counter with a thud. “Why are you like this?”

He tilted his head, beaming like he’d just officiated a wedding. “So… can I come out now?”

You and Jay both answered without missing a beat.

“No.”

—

The two of you had been dating for a whole month now and sneaking around had become a normal occurrence for the two of you.

A month of stolen glances, hushed giggles, and kisses behind closed doors. You came over under the same old pretense, “I’m just hanging out at Jay’s while waiting for Mom to finish work”. It was familiar. There was nothing to question.

Except now, every time you stepped into his room, the door clicked shut behind you and the rest of the world disappeared.

You’d start out pretending to study. Laptops open, notebooks flipped to blank pages, a pencil stuck behind your ear. Jay would sit beside you, his knee pressed against yours, trying really hard for maybe ten minutes. And then he’d look over.

You’d barely meet his eyes before his lips were on yours.

Usually, soft first then it goes deeper, slower, the kind of kissing that made you forget what time it was. It’d be 4:30 one moment and 6:00 the next. He’d push your hair behind your ear, you’d tug lightly on his hoodie, and the math textbook between you would be quietly shoved to the floor by someone’s feet.

It always ended the same way. A knock at the door. Your mom’s voice floating in, “Come on, time to head home!”

You’d jolt apart, breathless, cheeks burning, smoothing out your hair and reaching blindly for a notebook. “Okay!” you’d call out, voice a little too high. Jay would flop back onto his bed, dramatic and pouty.

Your mom would open the door, glance in, see the two of you surrounded by notes and open textbooks, and nod. “I’ll wait downstairs.”

“Just five more minutes,” you’d reply automatically.

She’d leave. And before you could even stand, Jay would hook a finger through your sleeve and pull you gently back down.

One last kiss. And then another. And then five more, because he always said one wasn’t enough. He’d press them to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, grinning like an idiot.

“Do you really have to go?” he’d mumble, arms still around you.

“She’s literally my ride home.”

“I could give you a ride.”

You snorted and leaned back just enough to look at him. “You got your license like... five minutes ago.”

“Exactly. I’m freshly certified. I’m a responsible driver.”

“Jay,” you said flatly, “I heard what grandma said about you hitting the curb”

Jay groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “What a snitch.”

You laughed, pulling away gently as you stood up. “That’s a no, by the way. You’re not driving me home.”

Jay pouted, tugging lightly on your hand. “You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you. I just wanna go home in one piece tonight.”

Still pouting, he leaned up and kissed your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. “One day you’ll be begging me for a ride.”

“Sure. The day you stop kissing the curb.”

—

It was another ordinary day, or at least it had started that way. You were in Jay’s room, lying beside him with your head propped on your hand, half-listening to him ramble about something stupid Heeseung had texted. His hand was resting on your knee, your fingers loosely interlocked until the knock came.

The door creaked open a second later.

“Oh,” his mother said, her smile soft but surprised. “You’re here.”

You sat up immediately, your hand slipping out of his. You nodded politely, reaching for your bag even though you weren’t meant to leave for another hour. What used to feel like home now made your shoulders tense. Jay noticed. Of course he did.

“Are you staying for dinner?” his mother asked, stepping inside like she always had.

You shook your head quickly. “No. I was actually just about to leave.”

“So soon?” she pouted slightly. “You haven’t eaten dinner with us in a while.”

“I just have a lot of homework to get through,” you replied with a rehearsed smile, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You turned to Jay, silently asking if he’d stop you, if he’d ask you to stay. But he saw it. The unease in your body, the way your smile didn’t quite meet your eyes. He wanted to reach for you, to pull you back down and kiss the worry out of your forehead. But he didn’t.

He just nodded. Smiled like it didn’t hurt.

“Go,” he said gently.

And so you did.

The door clicked shut behind you. 

Jay stood there for a beat, staring at the closed space you’d just filled. Then he turned back, meeting his mother’s gaze across the room.

She crossed her arms. “Is something wrong?” she asked, frowning now. “She hasn’t stayed for dinner in almost two months.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Mom.”

“I think there is.”

Jay exhaled, his jaw tight. And he hated it…hated how something that was once easy had turned into this sharp-edged discomfort. How your laughter had grown quieter. How he had to love you in secret all because the life carved out for him didn’t have room for anything outside of perfect.

Over the past two months, Jay had started to feel something sour curling inside him. A quiet resentment. Not towards you. Never you. But toward everything else. Toward the silent expectation to carry generations of ambition on his back. He loved his mother, God, he really did. But that love didn’t soften the frustration. It didn’t erase how badly things had shifted between you both since that night.

He had so many things to be grateful for. But all he’d ever really wanted was you. Just to be by your side. And somehow, even that felt like something he wasn’t allowed to have.

“Mom, drop it,” he said, voice flat.

She frowned, stepping further into the room. “Jongseong, you’ve been acting different since the day—”

“That’s because I’ve been talking, and you haven’t been listening,” he snapped.

Her expression faltered. “What do you want me to do, Jong? Your dad and I have worked tirelessly for this opportunity—”

“That I didn’t ask for!” His voice cracked, hands clenched at his sides.

“You are going to that university. It’s in your blood. It’s good for you. And deep down, you know it too. If I told her how important this is, how good it is for you, I’m pretty sure she’d be supportive.”

“Don’t tell her.”

She froze.

“Baby—”

“Don’t. Tell. Her.” he repeated, each word heavier than the last.

His mother blinked, visibly thrown by his tone. And Jay just stood there, chest heaving, trying to hold back the rest of the words rising in his throat. Because if he said more, he wasn’t sure what would come out.

He just knew this: She wasn’t allowed to take you from him, too.

—

The two of you had wandered into a small alleyway market off the main district, less glossy, more charm. Little stalls lined both sides, selling handmade accessories, mismatched shoes, thrifted bags with peeling zippers, and the kind of bracelets that cost just enough to mean something, but not enough to break a wallet.

You stopped in front of a table full of them, rows of braided cords, beaded charms, faded ribbons wrapped around thin, bendy wire. You held up one with small star-shaped beads, smiling a little to yourself.

Jay hovered beside you, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes scanning the stall. “You sure you want one of these?” he asked, not unkindly, just confused. “There’s a place down the street that does custom silver bands. We can go there. I’ll pay.”

You shook your head immediately, the smile slipping off your face. “I don’t want anything too expensive,” you said quietly. “I just want something pretty.”

Jay frowned. “Yeah, but we could get something prettier. Something that’ll last. I just—why not get something better?”

You didn’t say anything at first, just lowered your hand. Something in your chest twisted. He didn’t mean anything by it. You knew that. But it still hit the wrong nerve.

You turned to him, jaw tightening. “Just because I’m buying cheaper things doesn’t mean they’re ass, Jay.”

He blinked, startled. “I didn’t even mean it that way,” he said, voice low but tense. “I just meant—if there’s something you want, I’ll get it for you. That’s all. You don’t have to—”

“I don’t want anything,” you cut in, too fast, too sharp. “Not with your money.”

The silence that followed was instant.

Jay’s brows lifted slightly. He’d been reaching for your hand without even realizing it, but at that, he pulled back. Just a fraction. Just enough to make your heart drop. His expression didn’t shift much, just the tiniest flicker of hurt. But that was worse. You could tell when he was trying not to show it.

You reached for him quickly, fingers wrapping around his hand before he could pull away further. Your grip tightened, desperate.

“I’m sorry,” you said, softer this time. “I didn’t mean it. I just—sometimes I feel weird. I don’t know.”

Jay looked at you for a long moment. And then, wordlessly, he pulled you into his arms. 

Your face pressed against his chest, your fists gripped onto the fabric of his hoodie. He didn’t say anything.

“I just want to give you everything,” he whispered after a long silence.

And even though your throat burned, you didn’t cry. You just nodded, clinging to him.

—

Jay stared long and hard at the framed certificates on the wall of his father’s office.

He’d been sitting there ever since he got back from your little date.

You’d cried for almost 30 minutes before finally falling asleep on his shoulder. He’d felt every quiet sob, the uneven rise and fall of your chest. Like being with him hurt.

He knew you loved him. God, he loved you just as much, probably more. But seeing you in that much pain simply because the two of you came from different worlds made his chest ache.

He didn’t care about any of it. Not the money. Not the future his parents had mapped out. Not the name on the wall in front of him.

But you did.

He didn’t know how to fix it. How to make you believe you were never less than him. That you’d always been the best part of his world.

“Jong?”

Jay’s head snapped up. His mother stood at the door, peeking through. He cleared his throat and quickly wiped away a single tear he hadn’t realised had fallen.

“Mom,” he said, nodding stiffly.

He hadn’t spoken to her since the last time she tried to push him into going.

Jay had already made peace with attending a good university in Korea. One that meant a thirty-minute drive from you. One that didn’t require a time zone between your hands. He didn’t care about prestige. He didn’t need legacy. He just needed you.

Because no place could feel like home unless you were there.

He wanted a small, lived-in apartment where the walls were filled with pictures of the two of you, some crooked, some blurry, all perfect. He wanted late mornings and lazy nights, strumming his guitar while you sat on his lap, flipping through TV channels.

He didn’t want boardrooms. He wanted breakfast in bed. He wanted you in his hoodie, laughing at something stupid, your legs tangled with his on the couch. He wanted to choose that life.

He just didn’t know how because his life wasn’t his.

His parents were successful, respectable, powerful, intimidating in every room they walked into. And Jay? He was their only child. The heir. The one meant to carry it all.

He didn’t want to seem ungrateful. He knew he was lucky. But sometimes…he wished he was at Goober Galaxy right next to you. Sweeping floors, handing out stickers, chasing after toddlers. Living the kind of life he got to choose.

He wished he could trade places with Jungwon, just for a moment. To know what it felt like to live freely, to love without strings.

But he wasn’t Jungwon.

He was stuck. Caged by expectations that didn’t belong to him. And no one had asked if he wanted them.

“Your dad wants to see you.”

Jay blinked. His mother was still standing in the doorway, phone in hand, the screen already lit up with a call. He swallowed. She passed it to him without another word.

Jay sat up straighter, the back of his neck already tensing as he accepted the phone. His father's face filled the screen, sharp suit, crisp tie, backdrop of a sleek conference room somewhere in Hong Kong. The time zone difference didn't matter. His father always made time when it came to lectures.

“Jongseong,” his father began without pleasantries, eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s this I hear about you not wanting to attend Oxford?”

Jay opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He glanced at the wall, at the same framed degree he’d been staring at moments earlier, and felt the familiar weight return to his chest.

With his mother, he always knew what to say. How to deflect, how to counter her logic with his own. But with his father… it was different.

With his father, Jay always felt like a little boy again.

Like he wasn’t the man of the house, but a kid sitting at the edge of a chair too big for him, trying not to swing his legs.

With his father gone so often, Jay had stepped into the role by default…holding things down, keeping things quiet, managing expectations. But every time his dad reappeared, even just through a screen, it was like the years peeled off and left him exposed.

He felt his mouth go dry. His fingers curled tightly around the edge of the phone.

“I’ve… decided not to go,” he said finally, voice quiet but steady.

There was a pause. A beat of silence that buzzed louder than any scolding.

“Decided?” his father repeated, eyes narrowing. “Jong, we don’t just decide things. You know that.”

His voice rose, firm and cold.

“We’re not like anyone else. Do you understand that? You don’t get to just throw away opportunities people would kill for.”

Jay swallowed again, throat tight. He wanted to argue. He wanted to say I don’t want it. I never did. But the words sat heavy in his chest, unmoving.

He didn’t want any of it. But how could he say that to a man who had spent his entire life building it?

“I—”

“Son,” his father’s voice dropped, deeper now, tinged with concern. “I didn’t… we didn’t build this by making decisions that went against our family. We built this by honouring tradition. By upholding it.”

“Dad—”

“We’re not just… anyone, Jongseong. You have to remember that. Even when it comes to the people we keep close.”

Jay’s eyes flicked to his mother, still standing in the doorway. Her gaze faltered just slightly.

So she told him. About you.

Of course she did.

And now it wasn’t just about the university anymore. It was about you. About everything he’d kept safe and sacred. Everything he thought he could keep separate.

—

You barged into his room with your bag slung over your right shoulder, hair slightly windblown..

“School was so boring!” you groaned, flopping straight onto his sofa. Without warning, you dropped your head onto his lap, staring up at the ceiling.

“But you wouldn’t guess what happened though,” you continued, grin creeping onto your face. “I got an A for Biology and Hee got an F, so now he has to retake the test. He looked like he was about to cry—”

You stopped mid-sentence.

Jay wasn’t laughing.

He wasn’t smiling.

His eyes were somewhere else, fixed on a spot just past you, like he wasn’t really here at all. 

Your smile faltered.

You sat up slowly, shifting your weight until you were straddling his lap. His hands instinctively moved to your waist, but his gaze was still lost. So you reached for his face. Your hands cradled his jaw, thumbs pressing gently into the softness of his cheeks as you squished them together.

“Jay?” you said softly, brows furrowed. “Where’d you go?”

That finally pulled his eyes back to you.

He blinked, like surfacing from deep water, lips parted as if he’d forgotten how to speak.

“Jay?” you repeated, your voice quieter now, more cautious.

Jay shook his head quickly, almost like he was trying to shake something off. Then his hands tightened around your waist, grounding himself.

“Baby,” he murmured.

“You okay?” you asked, eyes searching his face.

He nodded. “Yeah. Fine.”

But he wasn’t. Not even close.

Ever since the call with his father, the decision had been made for him…he would be going to Oxford. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a discussion. It was a statement, sharp and final. There was no room to disagree, no room to even think. 

Not that he had a choice. He never really did.

Jay had spent the entire night buried under the covers of his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as the hours ticked by. His phone had lit up over and over again, messages from his mom, soft knocks at the door but he hadn’t moved. 

He didn’t want to read what she had to say. He didn’t want to hear reassurances...not anymore. Because the truth was, nothing anyone said would make it feel any better.

And now here you were, sitting in his lap, smiling like the sun, laughing about your day, trusting that the world hadn’t just changed for him entirely.

He didn’t know how to tell you.

Didn’t know how to say he was leaving.

Didn’t know how to break your heart when you had only just handed it to him.

But he had to.

Because he was leaving.

At this point, it wasn’t about academics. It wasn’t about prestige. It was about control.

His father thought this was the cleanest way to fix things.

Remove the distraction.

Remove the attachment.

Remove you.

Jay felt it in his chest, this sick, sinking sense of being packaged up and delivered to a life he never chose. Like this would be better. Like this would make things easier. Not for him. But for them.

—

You were worried.

Jay wasn’t acting like himself. He wasn’t snarky, or smug, or sarcastic in the way you’d come to love. He wasn’t cracking jokes or teasing you every time you said something dumb. He was quiet and distracted. 

Jay was usually good at hiding things. But today… today, whatever it was had cracked through.

So naturally, you turned to the two most emotionally stunted people you knew.

“I think he’s broken,” you declared, arms folded on the table in front of you. “Like, actually broken.”

Jungwon blinked. “Did you try turning him off and back on again?”

“I’m serious, Won,” you said, glaring at Jungwon, “He hasn’t texted me all day. And yesterday, he...was so different? I don’t know what’s wrong but it’s not nothing.”

“Have you considered…” Jungwon began, “that he’s just constipated?”

“Jungwon, I swear to God—”

“I’m just saying, emotional constipation and actual constipation are cousins.”

“Please shut up,” you muttered, face in your hands.

Across from you, Heeseung was flipping through his notebook like he wasn’t listening. But then he spoke, casually, without even looking up.

“Why don’t you plan something lowkey for him?” he said. “Like, something you guys used to do. Remind him what home feels like. He clearly needs it.”

You and Jungwon both froze.

Then slowly, you turned to look at him.

Heeseung glanced up, blinking at your silence. “What?”

Jungwon pointed at him dramatically. “Holy shit, that’s the first good idea you’ve ever had.”

You side-eyed Jungwon. “You haven’t had a good idea today either, Won.”

“Yeah, but I usually do,” he shrugged, sipping his drink. “So this makes up for it.”

Still, you leaned back in your chair, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you let the idea settle.

Something simple. Something that would pull Jay out of whatever fog he was in and back into the version of himself he only ever seemed to be around you.

Maybe Heeseung was right. Maybe it wasn’t about fixing anything. Maybe it was about reminding him that he was loved.

–

You sat on the edge of the sofa, elbows resting on your knees, hands fidgeting with the sleeve of your hoodie. Jay was upstairs grabbing something, his keys maybe, or a jacket, or just taking forever like he always did. You’d planned everything with Jungwon and Heeseung down to the detail. A quiet dinner at your place. His favourite food, his favourite people, and a homemade banner Jungwon insisted on duct-taping across your kitchen ceiling.

You tapped your feet against the floor, eyes flicking between the staircase and the coffee table in front of you.

“Oh—hey!”

You hadn’t expected to run into his mom.

She came out from the hallway with a small stack of neatly folded towels, pausing slightly when she saw you there. Then her face relaxed into a smile, almost like the kind you couldn’t quite read.

“Oh, you’re here early,” she said lightly, crossing into the living room. “Jong’s still upstairs?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Said he’d just be a minute.”

She set the towels down on the armchair, smoothing one absent-mindedly. “How have you been? It feels like I haven’t seen you properly in ages.”

You stiffened slightly. Not out of rudeness. Just… because you never knew how to be around her anymore. Not since that night.

Still, you tried to keep your voice even. “I’ve been okay. School’s been a little hectic.”

“Mmm, I remember those days,” she said fondly. “So much pressure to figure everything out. Especially now.”

She gave you a knowing look, and you tried to return it, even though your stomach twisted.

A moment of silence passed. You glanced down at your hands.

“I really haven’t seen you around much,” she added gently, “Not even for dinner.”

You gave a small shrug. “I’ve just been… busy.”

Her gaze flicked to the corner of the room, almost like she wanted to say more. But then she smiled again, too quickly.

“I’m actually waiting for a delivery,” she said, as if to fill the quiet. “Should be arriving soon.”

“Oh?” you said, seizing the normalcy in her tone. “Something exciting?”

She waved a hand. “Just a new luggage set.”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. “Ooh, another vacation, Mrs. Park?”

She laughed softly. “Oh, no, not for me. It’s for Jay, we’re giving it to him before he goes to Oxford.”

And just like that, the world stopped.

The words didn’t even sound dramatic. Just a casual statement, something said mid-sentence, in passing.

But your brain latched onto it like it was the only thing that mattered.

Your mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

Oxford…

Oxford?

Jay was going to Oxford.

Your chest constricted. “Oxford?” you repeated, and you hated how your voice sounded small and uncertain.

Mrs. Park blinked, like she was only just realizing what she said. “Oh… oh, didn’t he tell you?”

Your heart dropped.

Your ears started to ring.

“He’s been accepted for early enrolment,” she continued, her smile faltering just slightly. “We’ve been sorting everything out this week. He’ll finish his last semester online and leave by the end of next month.”

End of next month.

That was four weeks.

Four weeks.

Four weeks left with Jay, and he hadn’t said a word.

“I thought you knew,” she said gently. “I’m so sorry, I assumed—”

But you didn’t hear the rest.

You could barely hear anything past the blood rushing in your ears. Your throat tightened. The lump rising felt sharp, like glass. 

You nodded. Or at least you think you did. Some vague, stiff movement that looked enough like understanding to make her stop talking.

Upstairs, you heard Jay’s door creak open. His voice called out, cheerful and completely unaware.

“You ready?”

You stood up too fast, your legs unsteady. The smile you threw on felt like someone else’s.

Because right now, your heart was already cracking. 

And he didn’t even know yet.

–

Jay was finally driving you. In his new car.

It was sleek, glossy black, still smelling faintly of showroom leather. The dashboard glowed with lights, the music system softly playing an instrumental track you barely registered. You’d never ridden in a car with him driving before. A month ago, that would’ve made you tease him endlessly, maybe fake a scream when he made a sharp turn, joke that your life was in his hands now. He would’ve laughed, reached over to pinch your knee, and said something stupid like, "Relax, I got my license in one try."

But now, you just sat there… quiet.

Your hands stayed clamped in your lap, fingers twisting into each other until you found the skin along your thumb and picked. You pulled. Peeled the hangnail until a thin trail of red welled up against your nail bed. You rubbed it away quickly with the sleeve of your hoodie.

Jay’s eyes flicked over from the road. Then back. Then again.

“You okay?” he asked carefully, hands still gripping the wheel. “You haven’t said a word since we left.”

You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Because how could you?

How could you turn to him and ask ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’  How could you ask ‘Was I supposed to find out from your mom? Like a stranger?’

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry and beat your fists against the dashboard and shake the truth out of him. 

“Baby?”

His voice pulled you out of your spiral. Your head snapped up.

“Huh?”

Jay glanced over again. “Something’s clearly going on.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, your voice too tight to be convincing.

He didn’t buy it. “Is this because I’ve been acting weird? I swear it’s all good now. I’m good.”

You shook your head and tried to laugh, but the sound came out cracked and hollow. “No, no. I just—”

Jay gave you a look. “Now I know you’re lying. You’re not about to pass that off as your real laugh.”

“I guess I’m just… worried, that’s all,” you said, brushing a loose thread off your jeans.

Jay’s brows knit. “Worried about what?”

You stared out the window, watching the blur of trees and apartment buildings pass. Your voice dropped. “The future.”

He didn’t press. 

He turned onto your street, easing the car to a slow stop right outside your house. The engine purred into silence, but the tension between you roared. Still, you didn’t move. You didn’t speak.

He waited, hoping, maybe, that you’d open up. That you’d say something. But you didn’t. You just shrugged, gave him a vague “I guess,” and unbuckled your seatbelt like the conversation had ended.

The car locks clicked open.

You were already halfway out the door.

Jay cursed softly under his breath and slammed his door shut a second later, jogging after you. You’d unlocked your front door with shaky fingers and were about to step in when he caught up.

“You’re mad,” he said from behind you.

“I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.” His voice was tense now. “Baby, c’mon, did… did I do something? I’m sorry. I really am.”

You stopped in the hallway. Still didn’t turn.

Your heart thudded in your chest, hard and loud. You didn’t want to look at him because you knew that if you did, you knew everything would fall apart. You’d been holding it together and he was tugging on the last thread without even knowing it.

But it was the way he apologised, when he didn’t even know what for, that did it.

You turned.

Your eyes were red. Not just teary, bloodshot, swollen, like you hadn’t slept in days. You weren’t crying yet, but your expression… it was wrecked. Like someone trying to hold back a flood that had already started leaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered.

Jay froze. He looked at you like you’d just split him open.

“Tell you what?” he asked softly, though the dread was already sinking into his eyes.

“That you were going.”

Jay’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

And then the pain hit again, your words echoing off the hallway walls, hanging between you like smoke.

“I…” He tried. God, he tried.

But the words didn’t come.

Because how could he explain it? How could he say, ‘I didn’t want to see this look on your face?’ How could he say, ‘I tried fighting for us but it wasn’t enough?’

You shook your head slowly. “You were going to leave without telling me.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it?”

Jay stepped closer, voice trembling now. “I didn’t want to lie. I just… I kept waiting for the right time. But every time I saw you, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to see you look at me like I was already gone.”

“But you are,” you choked out. “Aren’t you?”

His face crumpled.

“I didn’t choose this.”

“Not telling me was a choice. Your choice.”

Jay dragged a hand down his face, chest rising with shallow breaths. He looked older in that moment. 

“I tried to stay. I told my dad I didn’t want to go. I told him this—” he gestured between the two of you, eyes glassy, “you — this is what matters to me. But he didn’t care. He never does.”

Your lip trembled, but you held it. “Then you should’ve told me.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

He took another step. Close enough to touch now, but he didn’t. Not yet.

“I was scared you’d hate me.”

You looked up at him then and for the first time, he saw it all: the betrayal, the grief, the love.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, voice breaking. “I just didn’t want to be the last to know you were leaving.”

Jay’s breath hitched. His shoulders dropped.

“I’m not trying to leave you,” he said, so quietly it almost sounded like a plea. “They’re just making me go. Please.”

You didn’t answer. Your throat was too tight.

He stepped forward, slowly, gently cupping your face with both hands.

“You’re the only thing I don’t want to leave behind.”

And this time, when the tears came, you didn’t stop them.

Your face crumpled as you collapsed into his chest, your arms wrapping tightly around his middle like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. Jay held you immediately, his hands splaying across your back, his cheek resting against the top of your head. .

“I’m not leaving,” he said suddenly, the words tumbling out in a single breath.

You blinked up at him through wet lashes. “What?”

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, more firmly now. “I never wanted to go. I’m not going. I’m staying.”

You pulled back slightly, brows furrowing. “Jongseong… you can’t just up and ignore your parents—”

“I’m not ignoring them,” he cut in, “I’m just finally standing up for myself. Look. I don’t even want to go. If I’m not allowed to make my own choices about my own future, then what am I? A puppet?”

“Jong…”

“God, I love them,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair, frustrated but honest. “I love my parents so much. But if they truly give a shit then they’ll just have to respect me enough to let me make my own decisions. They can’t keep deciding my life for me and call it parenting because it’s not.”

You hesitated. “Jong, you’re not doing this solely for me, are you?”

Jay sighed.

“I’ll admit that a huge part of me wants to stay because of you,” he said, not flinching. “Of course I do. But it’s not just that.”

He stepped back slightly, just enough to look you in the eye. “I don’t want to be living somewhere where I don't know anyone. I don’t want to start over. I don’t want to wake up in a city that doesn’t have you, Hee, or Won. And c’mon, there are good schools here — great ones, even. I can still make something of myself without crossing an ocean for a name, all while being here…with you.”

You searched his face, your chest tight.

“But your dad—”

“Can live with my decision,” Jay said, quiet but certain. “I’ve been pretending I could live with this, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

He took your hands, thumbs brushing over your still-shaking fingers.

“I’m happier when I’m with you,” he said, voice cracking just slightly. “When I’m here. With you guys. Near the people who make me feel like I’m already enough.”

You swallowed hard. His grip tightened.

“I’m not giving that up for a future that doesn’t even feel like mine. So please…don’t make me go.”

You breathed, like you’d been holding it in, “Okay.”

He sighed like the weight pressing on his chest had finally loosened.

And then he kissed you.

There was no hesitation, no inch of space left between you. It wasn’t delicate or careful, it was immediate, all heat.

His hands slipped from yours and rose to cradle your face, palms warm against your cheeks, thumbs brushing the corners of your mouth like he needed to feel you. His lips crashed into yours. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. You leaned into him instinctively, your hands fisting in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. His nose brushed against yours, his lips parting against your bottom lip, tasting the salt of your tears.

It wasn’t perfect. It was messy, and rushed, and aching. His mouth trembled just a little when he kissed you. Jay’s thumb traced along your jaw, slow and reverent, while his other hand slid behind your neck.

Your knees felt weak. Your lungs burned. But none of that mattered. Because he was kissing you.

“So… like, uh… do we come out now or…?”

You and Jay froze.

From behind the sofa, Jungwon slowly popped his head out, holding a cake with “Stop Being Sad!” scrawled messily across the top in blue icing. Heeseung followed a beat later, scratching the back of his neck.

“We could, like… pretend we aren’t here,” Heeseung muttered, glancing down at the cake as if he suddenly regretted every life choice that led him to this moment.

You and Jay instinctively pulled apart, both of you flushed and teary-eyed, your breaths still uneven. It wasn’t exactly how you wanted to be seen.

Jungwon winced at the sight of you two. “Uh. Sorry? We were gonna jump out and yell surprise, but like… then you guys were fighting then the next thing we knew you were kissing so–”

Jay dragged a hand down his face with a low groan. “Oh my god. What are you guys even doing here?”

“We were going to throw a surprise feel-better party,” Heeseung said flatly, lifting a plastic bag of takeout containers, “but if I’m being honest, I think we're the ones more surprised.”

Heeseung sighed before continuing, “We even brought your favorite food. Well… kinda. I think Jungwon ate half the fries while we were waiting.”

Jay didn’t say anything. Just let out a slow breath and sank into the sofa, his body folding inward like something was caving in. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. His thumbs rubbed together, a nervous habit. One you’d seen since you were kids.

But Jay didn’t look at anyone.

His eyes were fixed on the floor, staring through it.

You watched him from across the room, your own shoulders still tense, fingers curled around the frayed edge of your hoodie sleeve. He hadn’t said much since the kiss. Since the apology. Since he told you he was staying. And now, sitting there in your living room, he looked smaller somehow. 

He was staying. But that decision came with consequences and Jay knew exactly who he had to face next.

The thought of confronting his father made his chest tighten. Not just in fear but in something closer to shame. Not because he regretted his choice. But because he knew what that choice would cost him. What it had always cost him.

The memory came back before he could stop it. A flicker of a younger version of himself, standing in the marble foyer of his family’s house, backpack still on, heart pounding after sneaking back in too late. His father’s voice slicing through the silence. “You skipped prep school?” His tone wasn’t surprised. It was more like disappointment. And then the yelling came and it didn’t stop. Not till three hours later.

But all Jay could remember was the way your face had looked earlier that day, eyes wide and glowing under a canopy of fairy lights at the amusement park. The way your hand had never let go of his. How you’d smiled like the whole world had finally opened up for you. And how, just for that one afternoon, he didn’t care about anything. He just wanted you to feel like someone had chosen you.

And now, he was choosing you again.

Except this time, he had no idea how to explain that to the man who had spent his whole life choosing everything for him.

The room had gone quiet, heavy with the things no one wanted to say aloud.

Jungwon, seated cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, glanced up and studied Jay’s profile for a moment. Then, gently, he asked, “Thinking about how you wanna talk to your dad?”

Jay’s jaw tightened. He nodded once, not looking up. “Yep.” The word left his mouth flat, clipped, like he didn’t trust himself to say anything more.

He leaned in further, pressing his hands together, elbows braced against his thighs. His voice dropped to a murmur. “I don’t even know how to start. It’s like… the moment I stand in front of him, I’m twelve again.”

You moved before you could stop yourself.

Quietly, you crossed the room and eased down beside him on the sofa. The cushion dipped beneath your weight, your knee brushing his. His shoulders didn’t flinch, but they didn’t relax either. 

You slipped your hand into his.

Jay blinked. Looked down at your fingers curled around his.

And when you spoke, your voice was soft. “Do you want me to be there?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he stared at your joined hands, breathing slowly through his nose like he was trying to think. But you could see the shift. The hesitation that made your stomach turn.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Your brows pulled together. “What do you mean?”

Jay let go of your hand slowly. He rubbed his palm against his jeans and sat back slightly, like creating space might help him form the words he was scared to say.

“I just… I think it might be easier if I go alone,” he said. “He’ll be less... intense. If it’s just me.”

You frowned. “Jay.”

He didn’t look at you.

“That’s not the real reason, is it?”

Jay shut his eyes, jaw clenched. Then, reluctantly, he nodded. “No. It’s not.”

“Then what?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

He hesitated. Again. And when he finally spoke, it was carefull.

“He just… doesn’t understand,” Jay said slowly. “Why I want to stay. Why that matters more than prestige or legacy or whatever. And bringing you into that conversation might just… complicate things. He’s upset. It’ll pass.”

But you heard it.

The way he didn’t say it.

You sat back slightly, looking at him now, “Complicate things,” you repeated.

Jay nodded faintly.

You stared at him for a moment, piecing it together. And then your voice came out flat. “You mean to say... they don’t think I belong in your world.”

Jay’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “No. Those aren’t my words. I’d never—”

“But they’re his,” you said softly. Not accusatory. Just… hurt.

Jay’s voice broke as he reached for you again. “I…I don’t agree with anything they’re saying.”

But the words, even as warm and trembling and full of love as they were, couldn’t take back what you already knew. 

You blinked hard. 

“It’s funny…I really thought they liked me,” you said, more to yourself than him. “I really did. I thought I was like family.”

“You are. To me, you always have been.”

But that wasn’t the same.

You looked down at your lap, your fingers now curled in on themselves. “So all this time… they just smiled at me and still thought I wasn’t enough.”

Jay’s hands fell to his sides. His voice cracked. “It’s not about you—”

“It is, though,” you whispered. “That’s exactly what it is.”

He didn’t argue. Because he knew. And you knew he knew.

You looked down at your lap, your fingers now curled in on themselves. “So all this time… they just smiled at me and still thought I wasn’t enough.”

Jay’s hands fell uselessly to his sides. His voice cracked, almost a whisper. “It’s not about you—”

“It is, though,” you said, quieter now. “That’s exactly what it is.”

No one spoke.

Not you, not Jay and not Jungwon or Heeseung, who had been silently sitting off to the side, exchanging hesitant glances as if trying to gauge whether they should stay or disappear. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. 

Then, slowly, you stood up.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” you said, your voice strained but steady. “I just… I think I need some time alone.”

Jungwon blinked, rising immediately without protest. “Of course,” he said gently, grabbing his jacket.

“Take all the time you need,” Heeseung added, pulling Jungwon by the arm, guiding him out of the room.

And just like that, it was only you and Jay.

He hadn’t moved. But his eyes never left you, still wide, still searching, like he was waiting for some version of you to reach back out and say this wasn’t real. That you didn’t mean it.

You exhaled sharply, hugging your arms across your chest. “Jong, I need time. Alone.”

He rose to his feet, almost stumbling forward. “I can’t possibly leave you alone with all these thoughts—”

“With what thoughts?” you snapped, voice wobbling. “That your parents think I’m not good enough for you?”

Your throat tightened as tears welled up again, threatening to fall. “For the record, Jay, I’m precious to other people too.”

And that cracked something in him.

Jay’s breath caught in his chest as he watched you fall apart in front of him.

He couldn’t speak. He should’ve swallowed his fear. Should’ve protected you better. But instead, here you were, crumbling under the weight of his parents’ ignorance and all he could do was watch it happen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

You were already shaking your head. “Jay, they’re right,” you said, your voice cracking as tears spilled down your cheeks. “I’m crying because they’re right.”

“No,” he said quickly, stepping closer.

“They’re not—”

“Look at us!” you cut in. “From the moment we got together till now, we’ve been fighting over the same thing. Me and you. We don’t belong in the same world. And you know it.”

Jay flinched.

You took a breath but it came out in pieces. “What’s gonna happen in the future, huh? When you’re out there doing all these big world things and I’m just… I’m just stuck. Working at a stupid kids’ playground, scraping money together just so I can go out with my friends like a normal person?”

You couldn’t breathe between sentences now. It was all tumbling out, everything you’d been burying deep inside.

“No,” he muttered under his breath. Then louder, “Enough.”

You startled at the sharpness in his voice.

“That’s enough,” he said again, stepping forward in two long strides before pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you so tightly. “Stop. Please,” he whispered against your hair. “Just stop.”

You didn’t fight it. You were too tired. Too worn. You just stood there, pressed against him, your hands balled.

“I love you,” Jay said suddenly, voice rough. “I fucking love you. How can you even say that? That you’re not enough?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face now, his forehead pressed to yours.

“I don’t care about status. I don’t care what my parents built. I don’t care about any of it. The only thing I care about is you.”

His chest rose and fell too fast, like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.

“I spend day and night thinking only about you. I always think about you. Dreaming that someday, I’ll get to wake up next to you and not have to keep it a secret. That I can walk out into the world and tell everyone that you’re mine. That I chose you. Over everything.”

You didn’t speak, didn’t move. Your heart felt like it was breaking and being stitched back together at the same time.

“I don’t care where we live,” he said fiercely. “I don’t care if it’s some shabby motel room or a one-room apartment over a laundromat. I just care that you’re there. Right beside me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His voice softened, cracked down the middle.

“If my mom and dad can’t see that? Then fine. Whatever. Let them be blind. Because… the only thing I’ve ever really wanted, the only thing that’s ever mattered, is this.”

He gripped your face tighter, thumbs brushing your tear-streaked cheeks. “Us. Our relationship. You.”

Your chest shook with the sob you hadn’t meant to let out.

And this time, when you collapsed into him, it wasn’t from sadness.

It was from the unbearable weight of being unconditionally loved.

–

Jay’s house had always been intimidating in a quiet, understated way not because it was large or lavish (although it was), but because of the tension that wafted it in the air. A kind of coldness that never really went away, even when his mom was smiling or his dad was out of town. You felt it now more than ever as you stood in the hallway outside his father’s office, the sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor echoing louder than you wanted it to.

You were in a pretty little dress, nothing flashy, just enough to look presentable. Your hair was done in a half ponytail, neat and soft, something you’d fixed just before you came even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything. Jay had decided to bring you with him. After everything, the two of you had spent the night talking, curled up together on your couch, deciding that no matter what happened in that room, you would walk out together.

Even if that meant Jay leaving with three suitcases and no home to return to.

When the heavy double doors to the office opened, thunder cracked outside, almost like the sky itself was warning you. Jay flinched. So did you. But still, he stepped in first, fingers tightly curled around yours, and you followed behind him into the room.

His father sat behind his massive mahogany desk, posture straight, glasses perched low on his nose, the blue light from his laptop casting sharp shadows across his face. He looked like any other wealthy middle-aged man, if you were being honest, if you didn’t know better, you’d never guess how much power his voice held over Jay. How that man could reduce him to something so small with a few words.

“Close the door,” his father said without looking up.

Jay obeyed wordlessly. The soft click of the door shutting made your heart pound louder in your ears.

The silence was unbearable. The only sounds in the room were the quiet clack of his father’s typing, the occasional pop from the crackling fire in the fireplace, and the rush of blood in your ears. You could feel Jay’s hand trembling in yours as he led you closer toward the desk.

His mother sat just to the side in one of the leather armchairs, perfectly composed. She looked at your joined hands, then up at you both. Her expression was unreadable, but when she exhaled, you caught the faintest trace of defeat in it. 

Jay stopped just a step short of the desk. You could feel the tension in his body, the rigid line of his shoulders, the way he shifted his weight slightly from one foot to the other like he was grounding himself.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m not going.”

The typing stopped.

The silence that followed was louder than anything else that had come before it. His father slowly closed the laptop, fingers steepled over it as he raised his head. And then, he smiled.

Not a kind smile. Not even a confused one.

It was the kind of smile you gave when you thought someone was playing a prank on you. Condescending. Amused, but in that way that made you feel small.

“Not going?” he repeated, voice low but laced with ice. He leaned back in his chair. “And who exactly made that decision?”

Jay’s grip on your hand tightened.

“I did,” he said, voice steady but strained. “Because it’s my life.”

There was a moment where the room stood still.

Then came the slam.

THWACK.

His father’s palm hit the desk with a force that made you flinch and Jay instinctively step a little in front of you.

His dad’s face darkened, his voice rising now. “You did?” he echoed. “You decided to throw away Oxford. Throw away everything we’ve worked for. Everything I’ve sacrificed for this family. For what? Her?”

Jay didn’t respond.

His father’s eyes flicked to you, cold and sharp. You tried not to shrink under it, but it was hard, your chest felt like it was caving in on itself. He continued, now addressing his son with pointed disgust. “I always knew you were impulsive, but I didn’t think you were stupid. Do you understand what you’re giving up?”

Jay stayed still. Then slowly, he nodded.

“I do,” he said softly. “And I’m still not going.”

His dad scoffed, jaw tightening. “This isn’t just about you. This is about our name. Our reputation. Do you think you can waltz out of this house and pretend like your choices don’t affect the rest of us? Do you think—”

Jay stepped forward then. 

“I’m not pretending. I know they affect you. But this—” he motioned between you and him, “this affects me too. And for once, I’m choosing the life I want to live.”

You could feel your lungs struggle for air.

Jay’s mom shifted in her seat, something soft flickering across her face. Her eyes moved back to the two of you, and this time, it lingered. 

His dad rose to his feet.

“Then you can pack your things,” he said coldly. “And leave.”

Jay didn’t say a word. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the office like the walls themselves were going to swallow him whole if he didn’t move fast enough. The last glimpse you caught before the door shut was his father, still standing, his expression unreadable save for the sharp stare he gave you and his mother, her eyes lingering on you.

Then you were in his room. The room you’d spent so many years in. The room where you studied on the floor for hours, where you once fell asleep watching movies with your legs tangled together. But now, it felt different. Felt almost unfamiliar despite the million times you’ve been in there.

Jay was moving fast, throwing open his wardrobe doors, yanking shirts and jackets off hangers, pulling drawers open and emptying clothes into an open suitcase. It was all happening so fast you could barely process it. You stood there, frozen by the door, the click of the doorknob behind you still echoing in your ears.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak. Your limbs were locked in place like your body had gone into shock. Guilt rose steadily in your chest, thick and choking.

“Baby…” your voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t think… shouldn’t we talk? Shouldn’t there be more to it than just this?”

Jay didn’t stop packing. He only glanced at you briefly, his eyes hard, lips set. “Talk about what?” he said sharply. “They’re never going to listen.”

You walked over to him slowly, your hand reaching for his arm, grounding yourself. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason you stop talking to your family. This is heavy, Jay. This burden—it’s heavy as hell.” Your voice cracked near the end, and you hated it. Hated how weak you sounded. Hated how helpless this all felt.

Jay finally paused, his shoulders still heaving with frustration. He turned to you, placed both hands gently on your shoulders, thumbs brushing your skin as if that alone could reassure you. His voice dropped, low and tender, full of a kind of pain that was older than this moment.

“Baby, this isn’t about them right now. It’s about me. About trying to live my own life. I’m so tired of living a version of me that only exists to please them. I’ve been the perfect son for years, and now…” His hands tightened, eyes boring into yours. “Now I’m just trying to take my life back.”

You looked up at him for a long second, your breath caught in your chest, and then you slowly nodded. Wordlessly, you stepped beside him and knelt, beginning to fold the wrinkled clothes he had shoved into his suitcase. You couldn’t fix anything, not really, but you could help him pack.

He watched you for a moment. The way your eyes were lowered, expression unreadable. Guilt settled heavy in his stomach. He knew you were hurting not because of something you did, but simply because of who you were. And how his family had decided that was somehow… not enough.

Then he felt it.

Eyes on him.

Jay turned toward the door.

His mother stood there, a hand still clutched lightly against the frame, her face soft and wet with tears. Her gaze flickered from him to you, back again. “Jong…” she said, her voice cracking. “Don’t go.”

His heart squeezed. God, he’d always had a soft spot for her. For the way she brushed the hair from his eyes when he was sick, for the quiet way she defended him during family dinners. She loved him and he knew that. But when it came to standing up to his father, she never stood a chance.

“Mom…” he said, his voice breaking.

“Jong, please,” she whispered again.

He looked down. Then at you. You stood slowly now, standing behind him, your hands twisted tightly together, fingers fidgeting in a desperate attempt to stay grounded.

Jay swallowed hard. “I’m not going,” he said, barely more than a breath. “And if it’s too much for you or Dad to handle, then I’ll leave.”

His mother stepped into the room, shaking her head, eyes red. “I tried talking to your father—”

“He’s not going to change his mind, Mom.”

“He can. We can try.”

Jay let out a bitter laugh, short and sharp. “I’ve been trying. For years. And nothing’s ever budged.”

She stepped closer, voice pleading now. “What if you went? Just for now? You could visit every few months—”

“Because I don’t want to!” Jay’s voice rose, his frustration boiling over, his fists clenched at his sides. “The love of my life is here. I want to be here. My friends are here. You’re here. I don’t want to go somewhere where I don’t know anyone, where I have to pretend like I’m someone I’m not.”

He was crying now. A mess of breathless anger and heartbreak. He looked at his mom, desperate for her to see him. To see you.

“You used to tell me stories, remember?” he said, voice trembling. “How Dad courted you for three years. How you didn’t even like him at first, but he waited. You told me about your love story growing up. And now what? I don’t get to have one?”

His voice broke completely.

“I’m in love with her, Mom,” he whispered, his hand reaching behind to find yours again. “And I can’t let you or Dad take her away from me.”

The door slammed open with a violent crack, bouncing off the wall behind it. You jumped, your breath caught in your throat as Jay instinctively turned, stepping back to shield you behind him.

His father stood in the doorway, tall and unmoving. His expression was unreadable.

Jay stiffened in front of you, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides as he positioned himself like a barrier. He didn’t say anything. Neither did you. It was like the two of you were back in school, caught sneaking out past curfew, facing down a teacher.

“You’re comparing whatever you have with her to the story of your mother and me,” his father said, his voice calm but sharp, every syllable slicing through the room like glass. “So tell me, Jongseong. What makes you so sure she’s the one?”

Jay blinked. “What?”

The question caught him off guard. Of all the things his father could’ve said… that wasn’t it.

His father took a slow step forward, hands still tucked neatly into his pockets. “You’re willing to give up your education. Your future. Everything your mother and I worked for. You’re willing to throw it all away for her.” He didn’t look at you when he said it, only at Jay. “So explain to me. What makes you think the two of you are so special? What makes you believe this is real? That it’s not just some immature, irresponsible decision for a—” his voice dipped, “—a passing fling.”

You felt the breath leave your lungs.

Jay’s shoulders tightened in front of you, his jaw clenching so tightly you could see the muscles twitch. He didn’t move at first. Just stood there. 

You swallowed hard, your eyes locked on the back of Jay’s hoodie, your fingers trembling at your sides.

Jay turned slowly, just enough to glance back at you. His eyes met yours for the briefest second.

He looked back at his father, drawing a breath.

“I know,” Jay said, voice steady, though it cracked faintly at the edges. “I know because I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I’ve never fought this hard for anything before. And it’s not a fling. It’s her. It’s always been her.”

His father raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And that’s supposed to be enough? A feeling?”

“No,” Jay replied, firmer now. “It’s not just a feeling. It’s the fact that I see my entire life with her. Not just today. Not just tomorrow. All of it. I don’t care if we’re rich or broke or living in a shoebox apartment. I want her there with me. I want to wake up next to her, argue with her over dumb things, bring her coffee when she’s tired, learn how to braid our daughter’s hair if we ever have one…that’s how sure I am.”

You blinked, your heart thudding so hard it hurt.

Jay stepped forward, his voice rising slightly. “You want to know what makes this real? It’s that when I think about what makes me feel safe, what makes me feel like I have a home, it’s her. Not a country, not a job, not a title. It’s her.”

He turned and reached for your hand again, threading your fingers through his, holding you tightly like he was afraid the world might tear you away at any moment.

“And if you can’t see that,” Jay said, looking directly into his father’s eyes now, “then maybe it’s not me who’s being reckless. Maybe it’s you for thinking love has to come with a some sort of societal hierarchy.”

The room fell silent again.

Jay’s father didn’t move. His face didn’t change.

“Then so be it,” he said.

Jay stiffened, not expecting him to fold, at least not like this.

“I expect three schools you’re planning to apply to. On my desk. Monday morning.” His gaze flicked between the two of you, briefly, unreadable. “Top three in the country. Or you’re going to Oxford. That’s the deal.”

And just like that, he turned and left.

The sound of his shoes against the hardwood echoed down the hall. The door clicked shut behind him.

You turned slowly to Jay, still gripping his hand, still trying to find your footing.

His eyes were locked on the door his father had disappeared behind. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move.

You gently brushed your thumb against the back of his hand. “Jong?”

He blinked, once. Then again. And finally turned to look at you.

“He didn’t say no,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “He didn’t… shut the door.”

“No,” you said softly, stepping closer. “He didn’t.”

Jay nodded slowly, but the tension didn’t leave his shoulders. Not completely.

Because this wasn’t a win.

But it wasn’t a loss either.

–

Things at home were still tense. No one had said much since the confrontation. His dad mostly kept to himself. His mom cooked in silence. Meals were eaten quickly and apart. It felt like everyone was walking on glass, afraid one wrong step would crack it all open again.

You were at Jay’s place, waiting for your mom to finish work so she could swing by and pick you up. The rain had just stopped outside, leaving the windows streaked with droplets, a quiet stillness hanging in the air like the whole world was holding its breath.

You were both sitting cross-legged on his bed, half under the covers, half sprawled out with glossy brochures scattered between the pillows and across the floor. Jay was holding one upside down, dramatically squinting at it.

“Do you think they give scholarships for people who have a traumatic past?” you asked, grinning.

He scoffed. “Please. I deserve a full ride just for surviving my father.”

You laughed, nudging his arm. He retaliated by leaning in, pressing a teasing kiss to your temple, then one to your nose, and then your lips, just a light brush, slow and sweet.

“You’re distracting me,” you mumbled against his mouth.

“Mm,” he hummed, grinning. “Good.”

You rolled your eyes, about to swat his shoulder again when the door creaked open.

Both of you froze.

Jay’s mom stood at the doorway, a brochure in her hand, her expression unreadable. She cleared her throat gently. “How about this one?” she asked, her voice even.

You blinked. Jay sat up straighter. “Huh?”

She walked in and handed the brochure over, and as you took it, your fingers grazed hers. It was another local university, one that hadn’t been on either of your lists but was known and reputable. A place his father wouldn’t hate.

And then you understood.

She was helping. In her own way.

Your lips parted slightly.

Jay’s mom sat down beside you on the bed, smoothing her skirt down as she exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” she said, eyes flickering to yours. “For everything you’ve gone through these past few months. I wish you told me the truth. I wish you told me you and Jongseong were together. I would’ve fought harder for the both of you.”

Your throat tightened. You swallowed hard.

“But then again,” she continued, her voice lowering, “I was wrong. You heard what I said that day… about you not being in our world. And I was wrong for thinking that.”

She turned toward you more fully, her tone warm but earnest. “What Jong said was right. At the end of the day, we’re all just people. Status, names, connections… they shouldn’t matter. And I’m sorry I ever made you feel like they did.”

You nodded slowly, blinking through the sting in your eyes. You weren’t sure what to say, maybe because there was too much to say. 

–

The sun was merciless, high above the stadium, baking the crowd in waves of heat and happiness. You were squinting into your mom’s phone camera, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jay, both of you dressed in identical deep navy cap and gowns.

Your mortarboard was already slightly crooked. Jay’s tassel kept swaying into his mouth.

“Mom,” you groaned, “that’s like the hundredth picture you’ve taken just today.”

Your mother didn’t even look up from her camera. “And?”

Mrs. Park, standing right beside her, chuckled warmly, nudging your mom like they were old best friends now which, frankly, they kind of always had been. “The two of you look so cute in your cap and gown,” she cooed. “We have to document this. For memory sake, c’mon!”

Jay groaned under his breath but smiled anyway. You rolled your eyes dramatically.

“A little kiss for the camera?” your mom added with a wink.

“Gross, Mom,” you muttered, already turning your head away.

Too late.

Jay took your chin gently and turned your face back toward him, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “I won’t say no to a free kiss,” he murmured, smug.

You shoved his chest lightly, but the laughter broke through before you could even pretend to be mad. “Ugh. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Behind you, a familiar voice cut through. “Okay, lovebirds, let’s not forget who the actual valedictorian is.”

You turned just in time to see Jungwon walking up, cap perfectly straight, robe pressed to perfection, not a single wrinkle in sight. 

And then, Heeseung who was trailing behind him, in a gown that looked like it had been stuffed into a bag.

The sleeves were slightly too short, the zipper was half-stuck, and it hung off one shoulder.

“I can’t believe my parents didn’t spring for a second gown,” Heeseung said, exasperated, lifting a loose sleeve. “I’m stuck wearing my brother’s ratty one from two years ago. I found a mint in the pocket. Unwrapped, by the way. I swear to God, he’s the filthiest creature on Earth.”

Jungwon didn’t even pause. “You look stupid.”

Heeseung blinked back at Jungwon, completely deadpan. “Thank you, Jungwon. As always, a pillar of encouragement.”

Jay snorted into his sleeve. You were already wheezing, clutching your side as the two of them launched into another round of sarcastic bickering that made you question how either of them made it to graduation.

“Oh…hold on,” Heeseung suddenly perked up, biting his lip and raising a brow. “Some girls from the junior classes just showed up to congratulate me.”

You rolled your eyes. Jay muttered, “Here we go…”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Heeseung said, already straightening his sad excuse of a gown, “Won, you’re coming with.”

Jungwon blinked. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“I need a wingman. Jay’s taken, and I need someone to distract the extras while I move in on the main event.”

“Stop talking,” Jungwon said immediately.

“C’mon, please?”

“Just stop talking and I’ll go.”

“Sweet. Let’s go,” Heeseung grinned, already dragging him away.

You and Jay watched them go.

“Are we… sure he graduated?” you asked.

“Honestly?” Jay shrugged. “A miracle.”

But then, a throat cleared.

You turned, laughter freezing in your throat.

Jay’s father stood a few feet away in a crisp suit, arms crossed, sunglasses pushed up on his head. He didn’t say a word right away. Just looked at the two of you, at Jay in his cap and gown, hand intertwined with yours.

Jay’s hand stiffened slightly in yours. You looked at him and caught the faintest flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

To be fair, since the Monday Jay had placed the list of his top university applications on his father’s desk and then got into those schools, no less, there hadn’t been much conversation. Just the occasional grunt, nod, or one-word answer. It wasn’t new. Jay never expected his father to be warm. He could live without it. Had done so for most of his life.

But right now, Jay held his breath.

His father stepped forward, slow but sure, gaze unreadable. You tightened your grip on Jay’s hand without realizing it.

He stopped in front of Jay. His eyes scanned him once then paused on the crumpled gown, the slightly crooked cap, and then your intertwined hands.

“Well,” he said, voice low. “You wore the cap properly.”

Jay blinked, unsure if that was a jab or a compliment. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

And then, Jay’s father reached out.

To you.

He adjusted the tassel on your cap, gently sweeping it from the left to the right side.

“You’ve graduated too,” he said, not looking at you directly, but something in his tone softer than before. “Should wear it properly.”

You didn’t move. 

Then his father stepped back. He looked at Jay for a long beat, something tight in his jaw, but his voice steadier this time.

“You did good,” he said. “Better than expected.”

That was it.

Jay’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Because those few short words, that deadpan delivery, that subtle nod was his father’s way. And Jay knew, as frustrating and emotionally constipated as it was, that was as close as he’d ever get to hearing “I’m proud of you” out loud.

Before either of you could say anything, Mr. Park had already turned away, his footsteps slow and composed as he made his way through the crowd. He nodded at your mother and Mrs. Park in passing, the gesture polite. 

Then, weaving through the field, he crossed paths with Heeseung who, at that moment, was mid–peace sign, tongue out, and clearly trying to impress a group of younger girls.

Mr. Park came to a halt. Looked him up. Then down.

“Fix your collar, boy,” he said in the most unimpressed tone known to man, “You look stupid.”

Heeseung blinked. He turned to Jungwon, stunned. You and Jay were already doubled over trying not to laugh.

A minute later, Heeseung made his way back to the two of you.

“Guys,” he said, eyes wide, “who was that and why was he mean?”

Jay rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, that’s… my dad.”

“Oh,” Heeseung said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, he seems lovely.”

“I lowkey agree with him, though,” Jungwon added, eyeing Heeseung’s wrinkled sleeves.

“That’s because you’re an asshole,” Heeseung snapped.

You turned toward Jay, stifling your laugh behind your hand as Heeseung and Jungwon continued to bicker beside you.

Jay slipped his hand into yours giving it a gentle squeeze. His thumb brushed over your knuckles absentmindedly, and when you glanced up, his gaze was already on you.

“Hard to believe we made it here,” he murmured.

You smiled, stepping closer until your forehead touched his. “Well… I kinda had a feeling we’d make it.”

“Weren’t you the same person who cried for two hours because you thought I was leaving?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

“Still… I would’ve chosen you,” he said quietly, just for you. “Even if it meant packing up and leaving with nothing but you.”

You leaned in, kissed him gently, then pulled back just enough to speak. “Lucky for you,” you said, your smile matching his, “I came with everything we need.”

“Okay, kids! Group photo!” Mrs. Park called out, already motioning for you, Jay, Heeseung, and Jungwon to squeeze together.

You groaned playfully, but there was no use resisting. Jay laced his fingers with yours and tugged you forward, Heeseung fixed his borrowed gown while Jungwon rolled his eyes and tried to smooth his already-perfect one.

“Closer!” your mom called, squinting at the screen. “Act like you like each other!”

Heeseung threw an arm over Jay’s shoulder. “That’s a big ask.”

“Oh, as if you’re any better.” Jungwon scoffed, flicking Heeseung’s forehead.

“Smile!” Mrs. Park added, then laughed. “Okay, last one and then we’ll go for dinner!”

The four of you leaned in, grinning wide for the camera. Jay’s hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, close and quick, pressing a kiss to your cheek just as the shutter clicked.

You squeaked in surprise, eyes wide, but the warmth on your face gave you away instantly.

“Now that’s burned into our graduation photo. Great,” Jungwon groaned.

“Unless… you want all of us to kiss you too?” Heeseung suggested, wiggling his brows.

Jungwon blinked. “No. I don’t really… I don’t want that.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, already leaning in.

“Let’s do it,” Jay said, grinning.

Before Jungwon could escape, the three of you planted a kiss on his cheeks all at once.

“I’VE GOT COOTIES NOW!” 

[mimiiis]

Imagining Clark thinking about you late at night and getting carried away…

warnings: minors dni (18+) — masturbation, allusions to sex, size kink, in my heart Clark "big cock" Kent is a boob man, hyperspermia, Needy and absolutely whipped Clark

word count: 2.2k

a/n: this was supposed to be way shorter, but I may have gotten carried away 🙂‍↕️ hope you all enjoy <\3!!

He shouldn’t be doing this. Just thinking about doing it makes him feel like he’s damning himself to hell. 

But he just can’t help it, can he? He never can. Not when it comes to you. 

The windows are open, curtains flowing with the soft night breeze that comes in from outside. It brushes past his cheeks, stinging against the burning heat of his skin and making him shutter. 

His face is flushed, positively red from and almost teary eyed from embarrassment. His curls are a mess, brushed everywhere and sweaty with the intoxicating heat that radiates from his body. 

He tried to cool down, ripped his shirt off and threw his pants across the room, but it was no use. The hard and aching sensation beneath his briefs granted him no peace. He could feel himself twitch and leak with need beneath the fabric, waiting to be set free. For relief. 

Everything inside of him burned. With desire, desperation, longing— he let it all bubble up for so long and it finally dared spill out. 

His heavy breaths fill the room, small gasps escaping his lips as he desperately grips at the sheets beneath him. His knuckles are white, practically ripping and tearing the fabric trying to stop himself from doing what he wants. 

What he needs. 

Images of you flash through his mind. The sounds of your sweet voice and soft laugh came to the very front of his thoughts and he had to bite his lips. He swore he could taste the sharp iron of blood on his tongue when he did. 

You, you, you. Memories and moments of your presence fill Clark’s head, making him feel dizzy and absolutely insane. 

He groans, shaking his head as if that will help him escape the burning desire that consumes his entire body. 

I mean, it wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? 

To let himself fall deep into the nagging and dangerous depths of his own imagination and longing. 

After all, it was just the thought of you. The idea, not actually you. 

The fact made his heart (and cock) ache. God he wishes it was you. 

You. Beautiful sweet you, who always greeted him the second he walked through the elevator doors. Who always made him coffee when you noticed he was running low, who helped him edit and review his articles before submitting them. 

His breath grows thinner, his hands loosening their grip in his wrinkled sheets. 

The way you looked up at him like he was the world, eyes full of adoration and a type of affection he couldn’t quite place as platonic or romantic. 

Clark tilts his head back, letting out a shaky sigh and reluctantly admitting defeat. 

Carefully, slowly, his hand runs itself down his chest. Sliding across his belly shakily, he feels his fingers reach the band of his underwear. 

He thinks of your smile. So genuine, so bright. Every time you send one his way he can’t help but turn his focus towards your lips. 

God how he loves your lips. The way they curl up when you laugh. How they plump up when you pout, or softly chew on a pen when you’re deep in thought. He loves the way they always shine from the lip gloss you wear. If you got close enough, he could smell the sweet berry scent of it lingering on you. 

He wants nothing more than to taste it— taste you.  To keep the flavor lingering in his mouth, so when he missed you, you’d already be there. 

In a swift motion, he pulls his cock out. He hisses as the cool air hits him, groaning at the way it brushes against his pink and aching tip. He feels the fire of his body burning him alive, watching as precum drips from the head and coats him in a sheer shine. 

His hips buck up at the thought, his own hand desperately going to do what he wished you would for him.  

His thumb rubs at the tip, gathering and swirling the wetness that leaks from him around. He wraps his fingers around his heavy base, slowly pumping and letting his arousal spread until a soft slick noise is heard with each pass of his fist. 

Clark wonders what you would do if you were here. 

Would you moan when he whips it out? Gasping at his size before taking it in your own hands. Would you kiss his tip, spreading pre over your lips and lick it all up all while making eye contact? 

Would lick long stripes over the thick length, wrapping a hand around him and stroking him while you moan at the taste? 

Gosh, he bets you’d be so good for him. 

You would bend over for him like a good girl when he asks. Ready and willing to get down on your knees and let his strong hand lead you into making him feel good. 

You were always so good for him, it’s only natural he’d want to reward you. 

He thinks of the time he complimented a blouse you wore. A pretty thing made of a silky fabric that had your skin glowing with its color. He called it cute, and you showed up with the same design in three different colors for the next month, just for him. 

He loved that shirt. Of course, you looked amazing in it, you did in anything you wore. But if he was being really honest, he loved the way it made your tits look. 

Fuck, he gasps. His fist finds a gentle pace, softly pumping up and down over his twitching and needy cock. Hips rutting up to chase his own touch while wishing it was you. 

God, he loved looking at your tits. 

He tried not to look for too long, really tried not to make it obvious. But sometimes you would lean over his desk to read something he needed your opinion on, and he could see them perfectly on display. 

They sat so pretty in your lacy bras. So soft, so heavy and so warm, they practically made Clark drool at the sight of them. 

He so badly wanted to be able to suck and lick at the sweet skin of your chest. To leave behind tiny little bite marks that claimed you as his for everyone to see. 

He wonders if you’d prefer him to suck or lick your nipples, soft or hard. He groans loudly at the thought of rolling the buds between his fingers, watching you shyly moan his name as he worships your sweet tits. 

Pleasure spreads over his body like water, flowing from his neck to the tips of his toes. It makes his senses heighten, each pull and thrust he gives himself feeling like heaven. He bites his lip even harder, the dam of self control slowly beginning to crumble as he continues to think of you. 

His eyes travel to his fist, watching the way his hand engulfs his size completely. Fingers wrapped tight and slick with pre cum, he imagines what yours would look like around him. 

Your hands are so small compared to his. Soft and delicate, nothing like his thick and calloused ones. 

A desperate little groan erupts from within his chest, something deep and primal at the thought of you just touching him. 

His mind wanders back to you, thinking of those tight little skirts that you loved to wear. The ones that clung to the curve of your hips and hugged your ass just right. 

Every time you bent over to talk to Jimmy his gaze would linger on your legs. Savoring the expanse of skin and traveling up the back of your thighs, groaning when it disappears beneath the fabric of your skirt. He would give anything to have you bend over for him. 

To spread your legs wide open, have you arching your back while he softly grinds his hard on on your ass. His hands would massage the plush skin at your hips, fingers indenting the flesh as he desperately humps against your clothed pussy. 

Fuck, what he would give to pull your panties off and fuck you over your desk. Watch your cunt stretch to fit his cock, your ass bouncing as he thrusts into you deeply. His cum heavy balls slapping at your clit, making you cry in pleasure. 

You would take all of him, he’d make sure of it. 

Sweat coats his body, lips now bitten raw and bloody as Clark gasps into the open air. Soft and whiny whimpers leave his lips, the broken syllables of your name stumbling off his tongue as he throws his head back. 

He’d prep you first obviously, he was a gentleman afterall. 

He’d lay you down, kiss you deeply and tease you until you were begging for more. His body would tower over yours, thick hands spreading your thighs open to reveal your aching little pussy.  You’d whimper shyly, and he would make it his mission to draw out every noise he could from you.

His tongue would go first, licking stripes over your folds, lapping up all the sweetness you gave him. Then his fingers would follow, stretching your hole gently, scissoring the thick digits while pumping them in and out of you. He would try to fit three in, wanting you prepared as best as possible for him— he was a big guy after all. 

He’d focus on your clit the whole time, licking and sucking at the sweet bud to make you fall apart even faster. And right as you were about to tip over the edge, thigh squeezing his head and fingers curling into his hair, he would stop. 

Desperate whines would leave your mouth, whimpering and begging for more.

The pace of his fist quickens, his cock growing harder and more sensitive as he feels his peak draw closer and closer. 

He would want you to beg. 

To hear soft broken “please, please, please” leave your soft lips while he crawls back up your body. He would kiss you, tasting the desperation on both of your lips before whispering sweet and smooth words into your ear. 

He’d fist his cock like he is now, and rub his heavy head over your wet lips. Spreading you open, feeling your warmth seep into his own before gently nudging himself inside of you. 

Sweat drips from Clark’s temples, small droplets running down his cheeks and to his neck as he whimpers in pleasure from the thought of splitting you open. 

You would be so tight, even though he tried to stretch you open for him. Your walls fluttering all around him, pulling him in closer as you tried to catch your breath from underneath him. 

And he would try to control himself, he really would. But he imagines the way you might look at him. Wide eyes all teary and pleasing, lips kiss swollen and face flushed with heat. It would make all self control snap in any reasonable man. 

He would grip your thighs, position your knees near your chest and begin to bottom out into you with deep and desperate thrusts. 

His cock would hit every spot, going deeper and nudging over your most sensitive points with each movement of his hips. You would feel it all, the  vein that runs along the side of his length and every needy twitch that signals he was close.  

Your head would be thrown back, chest heaving and pretty tits bouncing while you moan his name over and over like he was your salvation. 

“Clark, Clark, Clark!” 

You make his name sound sacred whenever you say it normally. Make it sound like a symphony when you tease him in that sing-songy voice you do. To hear you moan it would be his undoing. Superman would be no more, his entire waking world and devotion would solely be you. 

You’d say his name when you came too. High pitched and soft, voice breaking at the vowels. 

“Cl-ark!” 

Before he knows it, thick ropes of cum spill from Clark's cock 

Hot waves of pleasure wash over him, making his sight go blurry as he throws his head back. Deep, guttural moans rumble out of his throat, accompanied by sweet whimpers as he keeps tugging on his cock, milking out every drop and imagining he was giving it to you. 

Filthy slick noises take up the room, cum coating his length and fingers, some even managing to spill onto his lower belly. 

Clark’s chest is heaving, lungs greedy for air and heart pounding out of his chest as his fist comes to a stop. 

Heat fills him all over again, only this time it comes as embarrassment.  

The layer of sweat that coats his body clings to him like a blanket of shame. It soaks into his sheets, sticking and holding onto him like it was saying ‘I know what you did’. 

His face is flushed, cheeks and neck a bright pink that match his sensitive and now soft cock. His hair is a mess, the fluffy curls having been flattened into a soft matt of hair. 

He feels the cool night wind brush against his cheeks, the cold kissing him like it was trying to take all of his pain away. 

His mind is still fuzzy, body slowly relaxing and blowing off the adrenaline that had rushed through him like a bullet when he suddenly makes the first rational thought of the whole night. 

Maybe he should actually ask you out tomorrow. 

Thank you for reading </3!! Comments and reblogs are v much appreciated! If you have any insights please leave them kindly!

a/n: can you guys tell that I love flustered and needy Clark 😚? also experimented a bit w this style, hope it wasn’t too confusing :3

[psychearrows]

screw it.

1. With my mom, absolutely. My dad and I are friendly.

2. My girlfriend 💕

3. Yeah, but ultimately I think everything’s worked out for the best.

4. Yeah :D

5. Taken 💕💕

6. Quietly and peacefully, when I’m satisfied with how I’ve lived my life. Preferably above 85.

7. Smoothie with peanut butter, a banana, milk, spinach, and chocolate protein powder.

8. Um… yes, but I sucked at all of them (except ice skating, I was average at that)

9. No, but I pick at them

10. Never fought. Maybe with my brother when I was like, 4

11. yea :))) betcha cant guess (hint: it’s my girlfriend 💕💕)

12. Nope. Never stayed up 24 either.

13. politicians, mostly

14. Yeah

15. Not anymore. I had a dog when I was younger tho.

16. Pretty good! I have to pack tho, and that’s boring :p

17. Never made out in general

18. Yeah

19. No. Im a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and I don’t wanna cause any paradoxes

20. I don’t know what that means and I don’t think I want to

21. Going upstate to visit family

22. Yes, 1-3

23. Nope. Terrified of needles

24. Math and English

25. Yeah. But it’s for the best.

26. Peanut butter sandwich 😋

27. I don’t think so? I’ve broken up with someone, but I felt like it was mutual (???)

28. No

29. Yes, but we weren’t dating at the time. I delivered a monologue I wrote about a girl who took her own life, and it made her emotional.

30. The texture of my shorts (gonna change)

31. Yes, many people I think :)

32. Blue! Light blue specifically. Close second is dark or olive green

33. Maybe?

34. There was vodka in it. That’s all I remember

35. My Six cast mates (I said the wrong words in my song, and I cried during intermission)

36. I don’t think so?

37. I don’t do either easily. But I guess forgive, cause I never forget

38. Could be. It’s been a pretty good year, but I haven’t had too many :)

39. Twelve

40. NO. Never walked out of my room without being covered.

There is no 41 - 50 lol

51. Bread :D

52. Oh I mentioned that in this lol. Yes, absolutely.

53. Logged onto tumblr :>

54. No. Never.

55. I wouldn’t say so

56. Zero

57. Eh. No, not really.

58. The rain :)

59. Yeah!

60. Absolutely! Hope it’s still legal by the time I can

61. It makes me a little eugh, but if my girlfriend called me it I probably wouldn’t mind

62. A lot of things. Off the top though, alone time, my mama, my girlfriend, my friends, video games, books, knowing a fact or trivia, blah blah blah

63. Probably not, but I do kind of want to change what I go by in real life (to a variation of my birth name)

64. Currently, yes. But like. Theoretically I could kiss her on Monday lol

65. Tell him I’m gay, and that I have a girlfriend.

66. Yea, he’s chill :)

67. My brother

68. My therapist lol (just got back from therapy)

69. I believe you make your own, platonic or romantic

70. Yes. My girlfriend, my best friend, another close friend, anyone I know that’s very young, and any of my siblings. I’d also die for my mom, but she wouldn’t let me and I don’t think she could handle the survivor’s guilt.

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[violettesorrows]

Heat Waves (Oneshot)

Description: (Yandere! Dick Grayson x F! Reader) You go out to take a swim in the Waynes' pool, and the lines between romantic and platonic start to blur. (1k words)

Warnings: overall yandere themes, kidnapping, imprisonment, yandere delusions, possessiveness, potential Stockholm syndrome, blurring between platonic/romantic lines, vague sexism/ infantilization, hinted possible pseudo-incestuous themes, mainly grayson-heavy but the others are mentioned, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

The sun was beating down on your face, but the water was cool. You were weightless. All your worries seemed a world or at least a shoreline away.

 You were floating between two worlds: the subtle chill of the pool and the inviting warmth of the sun. You were intent on enjoying both in tranquil solitude, when suddenly a shadow disturbed your peace. You hadn’t heard any footsteps, but you sure as hell felt the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“You're blocking my sun,” You said without opening an eye. It had taken you weeks for you to convince your captors to use the pool, you'd be damned if you let anything or anyone ruin it for you.

“Sorry princess,” Dick Grayson's voice apologized unapologetically. He clearly didn't mind bothering you. He never did. 

“I just wanted to check in on you. Poke you with a stick, see if you're still alive. Or if you needed to be flipped over.”

“Hasn't Bruce ever told you not to go poking bears with sticks?” You questioned sardonically.

You popped a singular eye open to see him crouching over the ledge of Wayne Manor's Olympic sized swimming pool. He masked it with humor, but you've known him long enough to tell he was genuinely worried. They probably all were, it had taken some serious convincing on your part to get them to let you near a swimming pool. Maybe they were convinced if you got near any body of water- closed or not- you'd try to swim away. 

The idea was quite frankly fantastical, if not straight up born of crippling paranoia.  You sighed. Just another broken gear in the very broken minds of the Wayne family. 

Dick remained silently, just surveying you intently, turning over every inch of your exposed flesh.There was something on his mind. Something he wasn’t sharing and you couldn’t be bothered to ask about.

“If you're done bothering me already, could you please leave?” Normally, your tolerance for him was a little higher, but not today. Today you just wanted some time to relax in the pool by yourself. You've earned it after dealing with all their inane rules for so long.

“You shouldn't wear that swimsuit.” He said abruptly. You almost choked on chlorine water. Dick either didn't notice or didn't comment as he continued his train of thought. “It's kind of… revealing. You know, for someone your age. Someone in the family might get..” He struggled to find the least offensive words possible. “Uncomfortable?”

Every muscle in your body tensed all at once. You struggled to stay afloat, eventually giving up all together. Having stayed on the shallower end, you easily stood on your own two feet. There went your afternoon relaxing in the pool. 

Quite frankly, you didn't even know where to begin with Dick's comment. 

You started to rub your temples as you began to formulate your response, already feeling the oncoming headache. “Okay, Dick. First of all, I'm not a child. I'm a fully grown woman. I can wear what I want.”

Grayson clearly didn't take your statement seriously. To him, no matter how old you got, you'd always be like his little girl. You'd forever be his little sister. Which brought up your next concern.

“Secondly, it's weird for someone who calls themselves my “big brother” to be checking me out. Like, really weird.”

For once, Dick Grayson looked absolutely shocked, bamboozled even. The color drained from his face, and all his usual vague amusement and humor was gone. He looked positively offended just at the mere insinuation of your words. Good, at least he had the human decency to do that much.

“Woah, woah, woah. Princess, I would never in a million years think of you like that.” He held up his hands as if in self-defense. “God, no. You're like family to me. You're my little sister. I'd rather chew off my own hand.” 

He finally came out of his crouching position, choosing instead to sit cross-legged on the tile. His hands were neatly tucked into his lap.

For the sake of your own sanity, you kept your gaze solely shoulders and above. You desperately wanted to believe him and didn't want to find any evidence of the contrary.

“I'm just saying to be careful around others. You never know, especially with Tim. I mean, you should see his backup file of you. And Jason, well I think he might be equally as bad-”

He paused mid sentence, as if realizing  you were here. It only just occurred to him you probably didn't want to hear all the gross details about how his brothers not-so-secretly stalked you.

“Anyways, I was just telling you out of concern.” Dick slouched slightly, a hand propping up his head. Unfortunately his relaxed body language did little to calm you down. “As your very concerned, perhaps a little overprotective older brother figure, of course.”

Yeah, right. His words would feel a little more believable and less hollow if he uncrossed his legs.

Since you were desperate to talk about literally anything else, you changed the subject.

“Anything else?” You asked.

“Bruce wants you out of the pool and back inside in five.”

“Of course he does.”

Without warning, you sunk down into the calming water of the pool. Fully surged in the water, you wanted nothing more than to disappear beneath the calm waves forever. If only you could stay down here a little longer, away from the Waynes that kept you here. If only five minutes could be forever. 

[rawme-price]

do you have etiquette youd like people to follow for making requests? (like additional parts youve already written? or things people might ask for?)

Yes, though ive never posts official rules lol. I'll make this ask into that. If anyone wants clarification on something feel free to ask!

General etiquette:

If you have a fleshed-out idea that takes up more than two paragraphs/a reader that has so much detail its an OC, dont ask me to write that. People have sent me reqs that really could have been independent posts on their own.

If you have sent a req, and feel it has been lost, dont ask me about it. I read all my asks and there's plenty I ignore for various reasons.

Dont excessively refer to me as a girl. Thats weird.

Some guidelines for reqs (suggestions, really. Idc how yall do things)

If you want a continuation of a post PLEASSEE specify. There's like four different wolf!readers, and multiple that are very similar. I wont answer the ask if I dont know, or ill just pick whichever I wanted at the moment.

The tumblr police will not kill you for swearing or using real words. Stop calling sex "spicy time" or "the devils tango" or some other shit. Same with suicide and self harm. You sound silly.

PLEASE dont assume the gender or sexuality of readers in my posts unless it is explicitly stated. Many people assume my readers a females when the large majority are NOT specified.

Uhhh i cant think of anything else. Just be kind ig and use your common sense.

Now, onto what I will/wont write. I'll go over tropes, characters, and kinks here.

Characters:

Yes

Gaz, soap, price, ghost, nikolai <yes always. Platonic, romantic and sexual

Alejandro, Rudy, <under contemplation. Maybe in the future. Platonic, romantic and sexual

Laswell <maayyybe. Platonic only.

Nope.

Graves. < No fucking way in hell, unless its negative

Konig < can be convinced if the prompt is perfect

Anyone else.

Tropes

Nope

Pregnancy, rape, weed/drugs/vaping, bimbo readers, innocent/weak/dependent readers, child/teen readers (lowest ill go is 19),

hybrid dynamics with biologically inferior hybrids (aka, hybrids that "need" a handler), hybrids that are socially considered slaves (unless its a fic abt how horrible that is), or hybrids that are completely sapient but somehow owned/controlled as a large group (an individual hybrid thats just a kinky freak is fine, but when it starts to drift towards systemic stuff im backing out.)

Omegaverse in which omegas are considered second class citizens/weaker, and alphas the superior/stronger presentation.

Yes

Literally anything else. I'll update the list as i go.

Kinks

Hard no

Noncon, scat, vomit, pregnancy, raceplay, incest, detrans, anal, I'll add more if needed

Maybe leaning no

Icky!fauxcest, intox/truth serum, misogyny kink, RTI (depending on circumstance), ddlg/b, feederism,feeders, corruption kink (receiving)

Hell fucking yes!

Hybrids, daddy kink, fauxcest, gore, torture, blood/knife play, somno, asphyxiation, daycryphilia, cnc, necro, surgery/medical kink, piss, humiliation, voyeurism, public/semi-public sex, bondage, restraints, pain/impact/wax play, lifestyle dom/sub, breeding stock, glory hole, loaned out,

DP in one hole, gunplay, PUPPLAY <3, teratophilia, ovipos, corruption kink (giving), sensory deprivation, omegaverse, brat taming, waterboarding, voluntary intox, sex pollen, freeuse, interrogation, age gap, forcefem, forcemasc, slurs, degradation, wound-fucking, blasphemy

There's probably more, but this is off the top of my head. If you dont see ur kink on the list, ask for it anyways! The worst that can happen is I dont respond :]

[thesinnamonscroll]

this !!!

spoilers for veilguard

i found a lot of the mythal stuff so interesting and yet concerning in dragon age because the way solas speaks about her makes you want to think that she's the "good" one.

in veilguard, when you talk with the aspect of mythal in the crossroads you have to convince her to help you fight elgar'nan and ghilan'nain.

one of the "correct" options is to bring up the fact that they killed her.

which not only implies that she's partially only helping to get revenge, but also shows that - along with all the regrets and stuff - she wasn't actually willing to go against the shit the rest of the evanuris were doing because she was doing it too/didn't actually have an issue with it. there's obviously a good argument that as the regrets are from solas's perspective he could be showing her in a "worse" light to make himself look better but just from the way he talks about her and too her, it seems like that parts genuine at least.

the ending where you use mythal to convince solas to stop made me uncomfortable from the way she talked to him. i don't particularly like solas but i felt really bad for him because his perception of his relationship with mythal, whether it be romantic or platonic or familial i dont know and i dont care, clearly was not how she actually viewed him.

"a soul can never be forced upon the unwilling, you were never in any danger from me" is, I think, emblematic of Mythal in a really juicy fucked up way.

We know that possession in DA requires a 'yes' in (most) circumstances. But we also know that that consent can be coerced; coerced consent is actually how 99% of demons operate.

It's probably true that Morrigan would have to say yes. But the way in which Flemeth raised her was designed to give her absolutely no choice in the matter. We see, consistently, that Flemeth emotionally abused Morrigan over and over. She kept her purposefully isolated from her peers, consistently needled and put her down, and with Morrigans mirror literally shattered a symbol of Morrigans individuality. Flemeth even has special robes for Morrigan (robes of possession) which reduce her willpower. In the fade, Morrigan says the spirit pretending to be Flemeth is acting more like her mother only when it physically slaps Morrigan suggesting a level of physical abuse.

In DAI, just before she says the famous 'you were never in any danger from me' line... Flemeth literally gives a horrid little ultimatum to Morrigan that proves just how manipulative she is. She literally says; I will take your son from you forever OR you can have him back but you'll never be safe from me as long as you live. And Morrigans response 'i will not be the mother you were to me' also points at the abusive Morrigan suffered under Flemeth.

The way in which Morrigan was raised then, was designed to create a person who would say yes, who had been groomed and emotionally (perhaps even physically) manipulated all her life for this one purpose.

Mythal seems to be characterised in a similar way; she is benevolent, the 'best' of the gods, and she believes herself to be compassionate. And yet, she kept slaves. You can drink from her well but once you do your bound to her will and will do anything she says. She sees herself as the good one, good to the people, but she's still willing to use them.

To reduce Flemeth down to a loving mother who never meant anything bad for Morrigan because of a single line she says (which itself is a manipulation) is to deny a lot of depth to Flemeth, Morrigan and Mythal.

[starrysan]

pretty u

➥ _𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 [9]

masterlist || prev chap || next chap

pairing: producer!jihoon x singer!reader

prerequisites/warnings: cursing, cheating :/ (not by woozi ofcofc,, sorry riwoo.. ur my victim), yn lore

a/n: sorry this took eons omg.. i wrote this on the plane otw back from my trip :3, there may be spelling mistakes.. my whole bad

2nd person pov

You waited nervously at the park, your knee was bouncing, your bad habit of biting your nails has returned since the whole ordeal. What if he didn't show up? Before you could overthink anymore, you hear a familiar voice coming from behind you,

“You know your hand is full of bacteria right?” you hear the voice say. You turn around to see jihoon. You did a double take making sure it was actually him. “Thought i wouldn't show up?” he asks sitting next to you.

“Would it be bad if I say yes..” you say, avoiding eye contact with him. “yn you wound me” he sulks, reminding you of every time soonyoung sulked when he broke a bass string. A wave of cringe washes over you making you jokingly shiver to jihoon’s confusion.

There was an awkward silence.. You didn't actually think it would get this far and you forgot to actually prepare something to say. “So..” jihoon says breaking the silence. “Fuck i’m so bad at confrontation” you sigh. “jihoon.. I’m so sorry for everything” you start, your hands were shaky as you spoke. “I- i know nothing I say right now can change how much I hurt you but i’m really sorry” 

Your eyes finally leave the floor to look at jihoon. His facial expression was his thinking one. The one you saw while he was mixing. When he couldn’t decide whether to add reverb or autotune, the same face he made when you guys were at the convenience store and he needed to decide between ramen or udon. 

“I just.. I don’t get it. I accept your apology.. I just don’t get why you basically ghosted me” he says now meeting your gaze to which you look down again. There was a moment of silence. You once again, had no idea what to say. “yn.” jihoon says, breaking the silence. “You were the one who asked to meet to clear things up, yet I feel like i’m the only one actually sharing how I feel” he says, starting to get a bit frustrated. 

“seonghwa told me-” you say but jihoon cut you off. “I know what seonghwa told you, but I have a feeling he’s not the one who made you avoidant when it comes to other people.” 

He was reading you like a book.. It was really scary. “You really want to know?” you say quietly. “Only if you really want to let me in” jihoon says. “I care about you yn but this relationship whether it’s platonic or romantic can’t work if you don’t communicate with me too” he says. You meet his eyes, “how much time do you have to listen?” you joke getting a slight chuckle out of him. “I’ve got all day” he says, getting comfortable on the park bench.

“your place?” you say just as he settled into the bench. “God yes please.. My back hurts” he says as you laugh. The two of you get to the apartment luckily all his roommates were out doing their own things. The two of you settle on his bed before you let out sigh. “My band right? We started in college.” you start..

(flashback)

you weren’t always an avoidant person.. in fact it was quite the opposite

it was the second semester of your senior year. god tired wasn't even the right word. You were absolutely exhausted, so ready to graduate already. But before you could even think of walking down that stage, you had one more thing to accomplish.

It was the thing everyone in your major dreaded the most, your senior project. What was this project you may be asking? A mini concert for your entire graduating class. You were in charge of the songs as well as the structure and some production of it. 

you scheduled to perform your project in two weeks, your band luckily agreed to be your backup band in the performance. big events like this always stressed you out, you got more snippy with your band, you didn't mean to it just ended up happening. you'd get frustrated usually argue with someone you’d blow off the steam and come back like normal.

you would run rehearsals like a maniac, yelling if anyone dared play a wrong note, stopped in the middle of a song or got lost in the piece. Your band got used to your outbursts. They knew you were stressed, you were just lucky they were so understanding.  

but throughout the whole thing, your boyfriend riwoo had your back. the two of you met first day in your production class, he was sweet, nervously asking if he could sit next to you in class on the first day. the two of you clicked instantly, if you weren't hanging out, you were texting and when you weren't in class, you were in one another's rooms.

you were so excited about your project, excitedly yapping his ear off about it and he always seemed just as excited to hear it or so you thought. the day of your concert you were so nervous. You bit your nails as you stood in the green room.

What if you forgot a song or your guitar string snapped? your bandmates came in five minutes later with their gear. “has anyone seen riwoo?” you ask, still pacing back and forth. A chorus of “no, sorry” echoed throughout the room. I’m sure he’ll be here soon!“ seokmin reassures you.

you go out into the hallway to call him, instead being led right to voice mail. you pace again, surely he had to be coming back soon. you hear some commotion down the hall. you turn the corner.. and you see it. riwoo making out with another girl in the hallway. you wanted to yell at him but right when you opened your mouth he started to speak first.

"isn't your girlfriends thing today?" the girl asks. riwoo shrugs taking a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket which you realized was your concert's poster. "i was never actually going to show up" he says, sounding almost offended she asked. you just stood there, your throat suddenly felt dry all the water you chugged felt useless.

you walked back to the green room, your bandmates looking in confusion. "where's riwoo?" soonyoung asked. "he's not coming" you say simply, picking up your guitar and retuning it. "we're on in ten" you say looking for the producer on your set, a senior you had befriended named hongjoong. (tehe).

mingyu could sense something was up, pulling you aside right before you went on. "are you okay?" he asks, genuinely concerned. you nod but he didn't buy it. "what happened with riwoo?" he says, looking right at you. "he's busy" you reply not wanting to talk about him anymore. "we have to go on stage" you say opening the curtain.

the four of you step onto stage as you thank everyone for coming. you swallow all your emotions before you start your set. everything goes relatively fine. sure you're heartbroken but at least it helps you show your real emotions for all your sad songs.

as you're about halfway through your set, you fucking see him. riwoo sneaks into the back with the girl from the hallway. you couldn't believe it, you freeze on the spot, your guitar would have dropped if you didn't have a strap. your bandmates look in confusion. you feel tears threaten to prick your eyes.

you run off the stage nearly tripping over your guitar cord. mingyu was the first to follow you off followed by seokmin and soonyoung running at the same time back to the green room. "yn!?" you hear them call behind you. you couldn't believe he had the nerve to show up. let alone with that girl.

"riwoo.. he was fucking cheating on me" you sob, curled into a ball on the floor. seokmin and soonyoung did what they could to console me while mingyu just stood there. before you knew it, he was out of the room. "mingyu where are you going" you ask. "to go take care of something" he replies throwing his jacket on the couch. "don't do anything stupid" you say through sniffles. "if it's for you then who cares if i do" he says before leaving the room.

the three of you sit in silence. seokmin had grabbed you a water, soonyoung had an arm wrapped around you. mingyu had returned, you could tell he got into a fight. his fist was bruised up and he looked pissed. "mingyu.. you didn't have done that." you sigh. "you're right. I needed to do it" he says, rubbing his fist attempting to soothe the purple bruise.

luckily, your counselor allowed you to redo your concert and you passed with flying colors. as for riwoo.. he had a bruise on his cheek for months. the only thing you didn't understand was why you didn't yell at riwoo yourself.

you used to be someone people didn't want to work with because of how outspoken you were. and suddenly you were a shell of yourself.

-

a cough from jihoon brings you back and suddenly you're not in the green room of your college, but back in jihoon's room. "i'm sorry you went through that" he says. "you didn't do anything you don't have to apologize jihoon" you say, your eyes never leaving the floor.

"i really like you jihoon.. and it's not like i'm saying you're going to cheat on me. i just don't want to disappoint you and go all avoidant on you." you admit. "i don't care" he shoots back which finally makes you look up. "what?"

"if that was your only worry then we can work on that." he reassures. "really?" you ask, genuinely surprised. "only if you also want to" jihoon says.

before you knew it, you leaned over the bed and kissed jihoon. it was spur of the moment, you barely had a second to think. your eyes widen when you realized what you did. "i'm so sorry I shouldn't have done that." you panic getting off the bed.

"yn it's fine" he reassures. "no.. it's not" you say getting up. "i have to go" you grab your bag and run out of the apartment. "yn!" jihoon yells running out without any time to put on his shoes but losing you since you ran down the stairs. he goes back to the apartment, texting mingyu to make sure you were okay.

he sits on his bed his feelings conflicted once again. it seemed like every time the two of you were one step closer to getting together, you got back to square one. he decided to sleep it off genuinely not knowing what else to do.

you get back to your apartment. your eyes red from crying. you didn't want to hurt jihoon and if running away helped that you would never stop running. a text from seonghwa snapped you out of it as you remembered your gig tomorrow. you try to get some sleep knowing you'd need it.

"i'm sorry jihoon" you whisper to yourself before passing out.

extras:

because of how yn used to be she had to ask 7 separate people to be her producer till hongjoong finally agreed

yn is very fast at running she freaking bolted down those steps in 5 minutes (jihoon lives on the tenth floor)

ty for reading!

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[unholyfudgebiscuits]

The thing about Scott vs Derek is Derek is a wolf. Like truly he was born, lives and survives with the pack mentality. Pack before Everything. Everyone. Because family is pack and Derek considers Stiles as part of his pack in some capacity or another he’s always going to chose Stiles and by relation, Noah. Whether you want to believe it as romantic or platonic is up to you but Stiles being part of the pack is canon. Stiles joined in the Hale pack and HE never left it no matter if Scott did. Him and Derek never had the falling out. Even after Derek looses his alpha spark Stiles just lumps him into Scott’s pack which means they’re still bonded and still family and are still going to choose one another over any outside force. Scott hates being a wolf. He learns to live with it and he enjoys the perks of it but he doesn’t want the association. Never has. If anything he bonded with the hunters because he didn’t believe werewolves were a natural species. He tells Liam he’s not a monster but does he really believe it or is he still feeling guilty for turning him? He hated Derek for calling the bite a gift then echos his words even when Stiles and Deaton call him out on not believing them. The only thing Scott had to not fully becoming a monster was to NOT KILL. Pack, family, friends, none of that came close to the importance of keeping his morality. This moment scared Scott so badly because he saw the only human in the pack; The only one who wasn’t physically considered a monster falling into that category. And if the human could fall obviously so could he. Stiles was the reminder that he can be a killer even without the fangs and then what separates the natural part of him vs the supernatural? Scott was selfish in this moment. He wasn’t worried about Noah or the pain or the trauma of Stiles but only if keeping Stiles close made him closer to falling. Derek is proud to be a protector. Scott is ashamed of not being human and Stiles? Stiles understands the difference because despite being human Stiles is a wolf. Family and pack comes first. No matter what they do. He is so wary and picky of letting anyone in because he knows once they are he’s dying for them. He’s killing for them. He’s breaking laws and magic and nature to protect the pack he has. Derek and Stiles both know that they are predators and no they don’t have to be killers but they will if they need to. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it over and over. Stiles was the only one not a born wolf who completely understood the pack mentality. The greatest beta was the only human. Peter realized this and that’s why he offered Stiles the bite. Scott never understood it, never wanted to.

Stiles and Betrayal

I had this stuck in my head, how much different is Derek's and Scott's response to Stiles protecting his father and how he does that.

In 3x10

we have this scene (kind of, I had to make some cut here and there). Initially Scott tells Derek that Jennifer is the one killing people to which she says...

When Derek understand that they are right he tries to kill Jennifer but Stiles screams at him to stop and he does stop after 'contemplating' a bit if it's a good choise. And he decides it's what he think it's best for Stiles.

Derek knows how important Noah is for Stiles. He doesn't want Stiles to be completely alone since Derek knows what it's like living without parents.

He believes Stiles (+ Scott also explains the situation to him) and looks at him and he knows, he KNOWS Stiles is willing to do anything for his father, to keep him safe since he's the only family he has left and he doesn't wanna lost him too.

He knows that Stiles is desperate to get his father back and Derek sees it not only through his tears but his voice too, how hurried it sounded when he pleaded to stop compared to how broken it was before, when he asked where his father was.

The way Derek looks at Stiles, the longing eyes, his expression as he decides who he can believe - Jennifer or Stiles - and he chooses Stiles. Above the woman he loved he chose Stiles, 'skynny, defendless Stiles', like it's the easiest thing in the world for Derek to choose Stiles.

While in 5x9

we get this...

And (since i didn't make a gif with it) there's a sentence that's very important that must be added. After Stiles says "he was gonna kill my dad" (in 2nd gif) there's this back and forth between them:

Stiles: Huh? Was I supposed to just let him? Scott: You weren't supposed to do this. None of us are. Stiles: You think I had a choice? Scott: There's always a choice.

After which Stiles add the 'famous'

All of us can't be True Alphas! Some of us have to make mistakes. Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes. Some of us are human!

And Scott goes with the 3rd gif.

So after this has been said...

Stiles once again tried to protect his dad BUT ALSO HIMSELF and he did in a 'cruel' way, but did Scott really needed to spit in his face like that?

It was self defence and it left Stiles with a huge bite on his shoulder

Scott has presumably known Stiles for a good 4/5 of his life and he is his best friend, his brother. And he doubted him. He let himself being fooled by Theo and he stood too firmly on his morals - and I get it.

Scott doesn't want to kill or do the 'bad thing' but just as Stiles said 'some of us have to make mistakes' and it's not simply a mistake. It's a choise about what's the best option, what are you willing to risk and what are you willing to lose. Nothing is black and white no matter how much one - Scott - tries to stand on his morals.

He didn't want to see the circumstances and what Stiles was feeling, he tried to play the 'good guy' but ended up being the in the wrong, which happens a lot whenever he keeps insisting on the 'or totally black or totally white' with his morals.

Stiles didn't do the 'morally right' thing to do, he did what he needed to do - what he thought he needed to do - to save his father. And i don't think Scott thought about how much Noah means to Stiles.

Stiles only has his dad, just like Scott only has his mom. So, wouldn't Scott to the same to save his mother?

Would Stiles do the same that he did to him?

(I don't think Stiles would've done the same, I think he would have thought it through and compared his father to Melissa, ending up deciding that it was the 'right thing' to do to prevent a life from being taken.)

So:

Somehow we got Derek, who knew Stiles for less than a year probably, trusting Stiles' judgement and seeing the situation through Stiles' POV, and choose a (almost) random guy instead of the woman he was in love with.

While Scott, who calls Stiles his brother, ended up not trusting Stiles and going against him, almost saying to him:

'Choose a random guy's life over your father's'

And I get that Scott has the 'good' morals but sometimes morals aren't everything you can stand by, sometimes you have to put them aside to see how a situation really is. And while for Derek killing is almost not that big of a deal (it's almost the solution to every problem regarding an enemy of some kind) he is still considerate of how it might effect Stiles' life, while Scott almost implies that killing Donovan for SELF DEFENCE was the bad thing to do.

(and I get it, Stiles didn't explain the whole situation, but let me ask you, did Scott asked Stiles about it or did he blindly went with what Theo told him?)

So, Scott betrayed Stiles and thought it was better to give him a lecture about what was 'supposedly the best thing to do' while Derek trusted and sided with Stiles. He didn't betray Stiles when he needed someone to help him or understand him, he chose to listen to Scott and Stiles about Jennifer and he doubted Jennifer even before it was proved that she was the Darach.

But was it really worth it?

For Scott to betray Stiles like that (despite the fact they later got back on good terms) and ultimately ruining what they had, which was already holding on by thin strings by then due to the supernatural stepping in the way and all the situation they had been in where they had to be faced with decisions that were bigger than them - SINCE THEY WERE TEENAGERS.

Was it needed to break one of Stiles' strongest bond over such a thing? counting Scott didn't ask Stiles himself anything but just 'accused' him.

And breaking this bond he had with Scott just made the one he had with Derek a bit stronger (despite the fact these episodes are far from each other) since Scott bring Derek up to try to get to convince Stiles to share is point...

SCOTT: Now you're gonna try to at least give him (Theo)the benefit of the doubt? STILES: I give people benefit of the doubt! I've given a lot of benefit to a lot of people. SCOTT: Like Derek? ...Kira? ...Liam?

Why the first person Scott mentions is Derek, almost comparing him to Theo as to tell Stiles:

"He was the bad guy too, Derek was bad too but now look at how we are, couldn't it be the same for Theo?"

Scott tries to reason with Stiles trying to make him feel guilty for 'staying attached' to the past and seeing Theo as the bad guy he was before, but Stiles is right. Theo was the bad guy that was before.

In the end this all makes me think Derek cared for Stiles more than Scott when it's about Stiles' family. And that somehow Scott doubts his 'brother' when it comes to his judgement on 'good' and 'bad' people because Stiles doesn't give off his trust to everyone he meets.

SCOTT: Why can't you trust anyone? STILES: Because you trust everyone!

Does trusting everyone makes them automatically good without any kind of 'exam' to pass first?

I don't think so, or there would be no need to define people as bad in the first place.

Is it wrong to be skeptical of people you've never met before or people who have been bad to you in the past?

I don't think so since our experince define how we perceive others and how we wanna approach them at first.

In the end:

Scott could've done better in that moment - episode - and chose to listen to Stiles and ask him about it before jumping to conclusions.

Derek understood Stiles and how much worried he was for his father, and chose to help him save him.

(But i'm not saying Scott is a bad character overall, he just has his highs and lows as everyone does and I'm not trying to put Derek higher than Scott since being friends with people - in this case Stiles - isn't a race)

[justkpopjokes]

Enhypen As Small Town Tropes

A/N: Getting back into writing again! I used to live in a small-ish town so here is me romanticizing it 🥰 Some romantic fluff, some just general/platonic! Also these aren’t necessarily realistic things lol, some are fully tropes while others are stuff I actually did growing up :D

HEESEUNG

Having a Secret Spot™️ that only you know

Being each other’s first kiss while at your Secret Spot because no one else has to know!!

Learning how to drive from his dad while Heeseung is in the car so he’s being dramatic when you brake a little too hard

Stealing alcohol from a family member and getting drunk for the first time in his room (the door is open so your parents know you’re not getting up to funny business)

Late night drives once you’ve got the driving handled lmao (don’t worry he’ll do the driving if you never do. He won’t ever complain)

JAY

Being neighbours and hanging out in his garage to cool off during the summer heat wave

Staying up late at each other’s houses even as kids

Neither of you needing to go home at night because your parents know you’re at his place and vice versa

Agreeing to move in together down the road someday

For now you’ll just camp together and dream !

JAKE

Going to seasonal carnivals together, whether it be the special deals at theme parks in the summer or haunted houses during Halloween

Spending so much time together that his dog Layla thinks you’re part of the family

Memorizing the route to his house from going there so often that you could bike there in pitch darkness

Biking to his house late at night because you can’t sleep

Layla always perks up when she hears you coming, so Jake is already waiting at the front door for you when you arrive 🥹

SUNGHOON

Always being on the same sports teams or clubs because there’s nothing else to dooooo ughhhhhh

Wanting more from life and agreeing to move to the Big City together

Spending every moment together because you’re alright just hanging out without doing anything

Loitering at that abandoned mall because of nostalgia

Getting him to record ‘found footage’ videos at abandoned places after you see something spooky

SUNOO

Getting ice cream at That One Place you’ve always gone to

Walking along the boardwalk together

Combined family trips!! To the beach or camping etc

Such as taking Sunoo with you when you go fishing with your family

Having self-care nights with him and his sister

JUNGWON

Climbing trees together

Then climbing onto the roof of his house to stargaze

Sharing/switching Christmas gifts when you receive stuff you don’t want from relatives

Going to orchards/etc to pick fruit together

Taking each other to run errands and do menial tasks just to yap

NI-KI

Eating lunch together every day

Finding animals near the road and steering them away from danger

Looking for hidden places in town to hide graffiti in

Finding hidden “shortcuts” near your houses to get places faster. He insists on using them every time, even if it’s not really faster

Riki joining you wherever you want to go, even if it’s somewhere that bores him, because he just wants to be around you and see you happy (he’ll complain on the way but it’s worth it)

[meiplays]

Right Place, Right Time

Pairing: Jared Padalecki x Reader

Rating: SFW (spicy tension, intense make-out)

Word Count: ~1.9k total

Warnings: SFW but suggestive content (trailer make-out scene), Romantic tension / flirty banter, Light jealousy (Jared gets possessive), Height difference play, Co-worker dynamic (handled respectfully), Emotional vulnerability / confessions, Richard Speight Jr. (Gabriel) cameo — platonic 🤍

A/N: I had a dream about Jared last night and decided to write my thoughts out into a small fic- sorry not sorry lolz

The photo op line stretched out like a slow-moving river of excited fans. But you? You were calm. Glowing. At 5'8", heels or not, you walked with your head high, confidence radiating off of you in waves. You weren’t just ready—you owned this moment.

And Jared Padalecki noticed you the second you stepped up to the mark.

His gaze locked onto you like you were the only person in the room. A pause. Then a double-take.

“Whoa,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re stunning.”

Your lips curled into a sly smile. “You say that to all the girls?”

He shook his head slowly, still caught in that moment of awe. “Not like that.”

Without missing a beat, you wrapped your arms around his neck—easily reaching thanks to your height—and jumped up slightly. He caught you instantly, strong arms cradling your waist like it was second nature. The pose felt natural, like something out of a movie. Your cheek brushed his, and before the camera snapped, you pressed a soft kiss just to the side of his lips.

Flash.

His jaw went slack as you slid back to the ground. You patted his chest playfully, gave him a wink, and walked off without looking back.

Leave him dazed. That was the goal.

Later, you were leaning comfortably against Richard Speight Jr. at the autograph tables. Your arm draped across his shoulders like you’d done it a thousand times. He smelled faintly like cinnamon gum and stage lights, and his jokes were endless.

“Let me guess,” Richard said with a smirk, “you broke Padalecki.”

You laughed, eyes twinkling. “He needed a little spark.”

Richard snorted. “More like a lightning strike. He hasn’t stopped pacing around like a golden retriever on espresso.”

Just then, a shadow passed over you both.

“Hey.”

The voice was warm, a little deeper than usual. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Jared—but you did anyway, slow and poised.

He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes flicking between you and where your arm still rested across Richard’s shoulders. Something dark sparked behind his smile.

“Well, look who it is,” Richard greeted with faux cheer. “Pretty boy finally caught up.”

Jared ignored him. “Didn’t get to say goodbye earlier.”

You gave him a cool smile. “Didn’t seem like you had words left to say.”

He laughed quietly, a little sheepish, a little stirred up. “Yeah. You surprised me.”

“Good surprise?”

“The best kind,” he said, stepping closer. At your height, his gaze didn’t have to dip far to meet yours—your posture confident, your chin tilted just enough to challenge him.

Richard chuckled under his breath. “I’ll give you two a minute before someone breaks out the measuring tape.”

You gave his hand a squeeze before he wandered off with a wink, leaving you and Jared alone in the middle of the crowded floor.

He looked you over like he was still stunned. “You’re… tall.”

You smirked. “And?”

“And it’s driving me absolutely crazy.”

You arched a brow, your voice playful. “You like tall girls, Jared?”

“I like you,” he said, quietly but firmly. “You walked in and took the air right outta my lungs.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“You kissed me.”

“Barely,” you teased. “Wasn’t even the lips.”

“You left me stunned.”

“Mission accomplished.”

His grin returned, slower this time. “So… what’s the move now? You gonna keep leaving me breathless, or give me a shot to catch up?”

You leaned in, close enough that he could smell your perfume, feel your breath. “If you want more than a moment, tall boy, you better learn how to keep up.”

And damn, did Jared Padalecki look like he wanted to.

Jared didn’t waste time.

The moment the last panel ended and he spotted you slipping out of the green room backstage, he was on you. Not aggressively—but determined. He caught up fast, brushing past some fans with a polite nod, ignoring the shout of “SAMMY!” as he reached your side.

“You didn’t tell me you were working the convention,” he said, walking in stride beside you.

You smirked, tugging your staff badge out from under your lanyard. “Not here in a professional capacity today. I was off the clock. Figured I’d enjoy the con like a fan for once.”

“Enjoy it?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You ambushed me.”

Your smile widened, unapologetic. “You looked like you needed it.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then tilted his head. “Okay, fair. But… what the hell? I’ve worked with you for months. You’ve been behind the scenes, camera tests, scripts—and you never told me you were a fan?”

“I didn’t want to be that girl.”

He stopped walking, grabbing your wrist gently to pull you to a quieter hallway near the loading dock. “What girl?”

“The one who fawns over you during script reads and gets labeled ‘the one with the crush on Sam Winchester.’”

He stepped closer, close enough that your height didn’t give you the usual safe distance. “You kissed me, remember?”

“You liked it.”

“Hell yeah, I did.”

You both stood there for a beat, the tension drawing tighter like a wire pulled taut. The noise of the convention faded behind you, replaced by the thud of your heartbeat and the subtle way his gaze kept dropping to your lips.

Then he leaned in, voice low. “Come with me.”

You didn’t ask where.

His trailer was parked just outside the con venue—a small, private oasis in a sea of chaos. The second you stepped inside, he shut the door behind you with a soft click.

The energy shifted.

You were both quiet for a moment, standing in the small space between the kitchenette and the couch, the filtered sunlight casting gold across the room.

“I didn’t expect this today,” he said, his voice softer now. “You… showing up like that. Looking like that.”

You smiled, stepping closer. “You saying I surprised you?”

“You’ve always surprised me.” His voice dropped, rougher now. “But I didn’t let myself think about it before.”

“Why not?”

“Because we work together. And I didn’t want to cross that line unless I was sure.”

You swallowed, your breath catching as you looked up into his eyes. “And now?”

He reached for your waist, gently pulling you closer until your bodies brushed. “Now I can’t not think about it.”

The kiss hit like a match.

Hot, instant, overwhelming.

His hands slid around your lower back as your fingers curled into the front of his shirt. Your lips met like a storm, mouths parting on instinct, breath mingling as he pressed you back into the counter with barely-contained hunger.

You kissed him like you’d been waiting months—because you had. All those stolen glances on set, casual brushes of the hand during script changes, late-night conversations with too much coffee and not enough space between you.

His hand cradled the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against yours in perfect rhythm. You moaned softly, and the sound made him groan into your mouth, one knee pressing between yours as he leaned into you fully.

“You taste—god—so good,” he mumbled against your lips, breathless. “Why didn’t you tell me how bad I had it for you?”

“You were too busy playing Sam Winchester,” you gasped between kisses.

He grinned, eyes burning with affection and heat. “I’m not Sam right now, sweetheart.”

He kissed you again—slow this time, like he wanted to savor every second. His hands mapped your waist, your back, your hips, gripping gently like he couldn’t believe you were real.

You pulled back just an inch, breathing heavy. “Are we really doing this?”

“Too late not to,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “And I don’t want to go back to pretending I don’t notice every damn thing about you.”

You let out a shaky breath, hands resting against his chest. “This doesn’t ruin anything, does it?”

“No,” he said, with absolute certainty. “If anything, it fixes it.”

You leaned into him again, your foreheads touching, hearts beating in sync.

The next kiss wasn’t hungry—it was full. Like something blooming. Like something real.

And when you finally pulled apart, his hand stayed on your waist like he wasn’t ready to let go.

“Jared,” you whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got more surprises where that came from.”

He grinned. “Then I’m never letting you out of this trailer.”

💙

[jellyprower]

Wedding Gone Wrong Pt 1

PLZ let me know if I should add any tags! This can be read as a platonic relationship or romantic! Still no fancy borders, just my squiggles.

This is just part one since I know Tumblr isn’t great for long wordy posts.

Also @goobstars is the person who pushed me to post this. The original idea was one that wouldn’t leave my brain, so I just whipped it together while on my break. This is the actual extended version lol I hope yall like it.

GN reader, but you’re wearing a tux. If you don't like it, then just imagine it’s a dress. It doesn’t come into play other than for the context of you are to be wedded! Married? Whatever that word is.

Also y’all are hiding behind some bushes at the beginning if that wasn’t obvious.

It’s sort of xRagatha and xJax just FYI (starts with marrying Ragatha, turns into marrying Jax)

I did my best to try and make it platonic for those of you who aren't head over heels for the redhead or the rabbit.

EAT YOUR HEART OUT ( lol  i love my fellow circus enjoyers)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I look over at Ragatha, adorned in a stunning wedding dress next to me, complete with a white bow attached to a veil. Looking down at my own white tux, I start to question just why this was Caine’s idea of a good adventure? Was it silly? Sure. Fun? Maybe. But sneaking into a different kingdom to steal a candy gem? Where the hell did he even get the idea? And why did he choose a wedding of all things?

He even came up with a silly backstory that this whatever kingdom only lets strangers in if they’re getting married? Like who would set up a wedding in a place they’ve never been? Not unless Princess Loolilalu gave the recommendation? But then we were trying to steal the candy gem back for the princess.

Not much about this made a whole lot of sense.

Jax was wearing a colorful tux, not far from the usual pink overalls he wears. Kinger had his usual robe, but this time a little flower attached to his chest. Zooble was given a flower and a tie, and Gangle was given winged eyeliner at the edges of her face. Clearly Caine got lazy, but whatever.

Really, I didn’t know how to feel. Caine had decided to use a random generator to decide who was going to be married. Of course, at first it landed on Zooble and Jax, to which Zooble heavily complained about. It took some convincing, but Caine did change it. That’s how you found yourself in this situation. Realistically, you and Pomni were probably the only ones who wouldn’t absolutely hate the idea of fake-marrying him of all people, but what you gunna do?

Pomni became the self-appointed getaway driver, so she was sitting in the pick-up truck with music that sounded like it came from the SIMS games. At least it was something.

“I vote we just bust through the doors.” Jax’s voice came from behind me. 

“That’s the second dumbest idea I’ve heard all day.” Zooble quipped, clearly still irritated that they were forced to not only come on this adventure, but that they were so close to nearly having to be married to the dude. Fake married, but married none the less. “Besides, we don’t have any weapons besides the hammer.”

I forgot Caine gave Ragatha a hammer.

“Well then why don't we just use you and Gangle to ram the door, huh?”

Zooble’s antenna twitched, but they didn’t get a word out.

“How about we just tell them about the wedding? I know its not the most spectacular.” You glance at Jax before looking at the ragdoll next to you, “But I mean it is the distraction he gave us.”

Of course Jax just huffed as Ragatha agreed. “Yeah, but, how do we approach them? They’re carrying spears...” Turning my gaze back to the guards, an idea came up, complete with a little lightbulb appearing above my head. “Follow my lead.” 

Leaving the bushes, I put my hand out to hold hers. I could feel her shaking slightly from fear, but I stayed steadfast in my stride. Of course, as I approached the easter-island-headed guards, they put up their spears to block the path, making Ragatha jump a little.

“Excuse me, but me and my lovely wife- or- soon to be wife- need to be let in with our wedding party! You see, we’re getting married in the garden center of the kingdom! And we don’t want to be late for the officiant!”

The guards look down at you two before one huffed. “Do you have the invite?”

Invite? What invite? Did Caine give us something to let us in?

Jax snickered behind me, “Oh yeah, I knew I left something behind! Oops.” Of course he was smiling. This was a very Jax thing to do.

Far away, far out of your vision, Pomni picks up a piece of paper from the dashboard that she hadn’t noticed before. It was a wedding invitation to the very wedding that was being celebrated. “I hope this wasn’t important.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honestly didn't intend to make the first bit so short, but I need to go to sleep. Might just post small chunks like this if the formatting works better for reading.

Peace out Y'all! 👩‍🦰🐰🃏🎭📐♟️

Part 2

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Hiii! I just wanted to say I love the way you write Tech! You got me giggling and kicking my feet🤭. Im currently watching bad batch and I LOVE THAT MAN.

That being said, I was wondering if I could request a Tech x fem communications officer. She was assigned to the group just so the kaminoans can keep tabs on them a bit. But also to provide background to the cultures and planets they visit in case the information becomes necessary for a mission. When she first met the group they weren't all too welcoming (especially crosshair) and so she was very monotone and matter of fact with them. Only talking to them when she needed too. She first opened up more with Tech because he became interested in her cultural and planetary insight. The others followed soon after. Eventually the batch considers her family and she them, but it was never spoken aloud so she still kept a bit of distance (not noticeable to them) just because she wasn't sure where exactly she stood with them. Maybe reader gets kidnapped and it's casually mentioned that they think of her this way and she's like "really???" And they're like "Yeah? Did you not know???".

Basically just platonic bb x with romantic Tech undertones. Or it's can be more explicit with the romance idc.

Sorry if this is too long, I just love love love your writing.😍

~🩷🩷anon

“Did You Not Know?”

Tech x Fem!Reader

The first time you stepped onto the Havoc Marauder, the air felt tenser than a vibroblade pressed to your throat. Four sets of clone eyes took your presence as a challenge. Tech greeted you with a polite nod. Echo gave you a once-over and a quiet, uncertain smile. Wrecker offered a booming “hello” before Crosshair scoffed and muttered something about “babysitters.” Hunter didn’t say anything, just studied you like he was deciding whether or not to trust a live grenade.

You weren’t surprised.

Your Kaminoan assignment hadn’t exactly come with a ribbon and warm welcome. You were there as both an observer and a communications specialist, officially tasked with planetary intel and cultural decryption. Unofficially, the Kaminoans had made it clear: “Monitor Clone Force 99. Provide regular status updates. Do not interfere.”

So you kept to yourself. Spoke only when necessary. Dry, clipped facts. No emotion. No opinion. You were an outsider with a headset and datapad.

But Tech… he didn’t ignore you.

At first, it was simple things. He’d request clarification on language variations. Cultural norms. Historical patterns of behavior.

You’d answer plainly. He’d nod and file it away in that brilliant mind of his.

But slowly—curiously—Tech began to linger in the little moments. Ask more than he needed. Test the line between ‘communication’ and ‘conversation.’

“Why does the Mahrik tribe insist on gifting bones to visitors?”

“Symbolic tradition. Death is seen as sacred, and bones represent peace. You give your enemy what they fear.”

“Fascinating. Morbid. But fascinating.”

You snorted at that, the first sound of amusement you’d let out in days.

He’d smiled. Actually smiled. Not just the twitch of a lip. A real one.

That was the moment it began to shift.

Wrecker started pulling you into post-mission meals. Echo began trusting you with decryption codes. Crosshair still made dry remarks, but he no longer sounded like he wanted you gone. And Hunter… Hunter seemed to soften, nodding in silent approval when you’d give mission briefings that saved them time and pain.

You never asked to be “part of the team.” And they never said you were.

But somewhere between Tech sketching hyperspace maps and you annotating planetary trade rituals beside him, it started to feel like home.

Even if you never said it out loud.

Even if a part of you—just a sliver—still kept one foot out the door.

Because you didn’t know if they’d catch you if you let yourself fall fully in.

⸻

You didn’t remember the explosion. Just the searing heat. The sharp, acidic sting of your rebreather failing. The blur of your surroundings as rough hands dragged you out of the dust and into a rusted speeder.

You came to in the back of a transport. Disoriented. Tied at the wrists. Your headset smashed. Blood crusting the corner of your mouth.

The bounty hunters that had taken you were talking about tech specs and payout credits.

You bit the inside of your cheek. They’d separated you from your team mid-mission. They wouldn’t have time to realize you were missing until the extraction point—and that was three hours away.

You hoped Tech had noticed. That someone would.

You doubted they’d risk much for someone whose role was “support.”

⸻

When the door blew off the transport and Wrecker stormed in like a krayt dragon, you genuinely thought you were hallucinating.

Crosshair shot clean through the cuffs at your wrists, muttering, “Took you long enough to get kidnapped.”

Hunter was already beside you, hands checking for wounds, voice firm and low.

But it was Tech’s voice that made your chest ache.

“You are late for our debrief.”

You blinked at him, stunned. “You… you came for me?”

He adjusted his goggles, blinking with mild confusion. “Of course we did.”

“I just— I didn’t think—”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Echo asked, genuinely puzzled as he checked the stabilizer on your hip.

“I thought I was just the comms officer. You know. The observer. The outsider.”

Wrecker looked genuinely offended. “You’re part of the squad!”

Crosshair scoffed. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

Hunter nodded silently. “We wouldn’t leave one of our own behind.”

You blinked, throat tight. “Really?”

Tech tilted his head at you. “Did you not know?”

You laughed—choked, half-delirious, but real. “No. I didn’t.”

“Well,” Tech said, gently adjusting your damaged headset, “allow me to be clear: We consider you family. And speaking statistically, family is rarely expendable.”

There was warmth in his voice, carefully cloaked in logic. But it was there.

You looked at him for a long moment. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Preferably under less perilous circumstances.”

⸻

Later, on the Marauder, after the adrenaline had worn off and your hands had stopped shaking, you found Tech at the nav console.

You sat beside him, quiet for a while.

Then, “Do you… mean it? That I’m family?”

He looked at you over the rim of his goggles.

“I do. I don’t use the term lightly.”

You nodded, eyes fixed on your own hands.

“And… if I wanted to be something more than that? To you?”

Tech’s head snapped toward you. He blinked rapidly, lips parting like he’d overloaded for a moment.

Then—

He reached for your hand, hesitant but steady.

“I believe I would be… receptive to that.”

You smiled. “You’re a terrible flirt.”

“And yet,” he murmured, eyes warm behind his lenses, “it seems to have worked.”

⸻

[heeikeuu]

i. ENVY - L. HS

pairing :: doppelganger! heeseung x fem! reader

synopsis :: what happens when your sweet and kind best friend that you had a crush on since forever has a doppelganger and you have to come to the acceptance that you may prefer that side of him more?

tags :: 5.4k, childhood bsfs to lovers, fluff, suggestive, angst, college au, heeseung smokes, reader going through an internal monolog crisis, mutual pining, dumbasses in love, tension

a/n: the first installment of the Seven Fatal Virtues series is here! I hope you all enjoy this, I'm slowly trying to practice writing longer fics so please bare with me <3

For as long as you can remember, you and Heeseung have always been joint at the hip. 

You went on family trips together, had almost all the same classes in high school, and went to the same uni. 

Everyone around you knew you two as the inseparable duo. Wherever you went, Heeseung followed, and vice versa. 

But somewhere along the way, the lines of platonic feelings and romantic ones blurred in your vision. 

You found yourself thinking just a little too hard about what to wear, or say around him at times. Avoiding every non-heeseung man like they had the plague. 

They just never understood you like him. 

But now you're older, wiser would be debatable but older nonetheless.

─────────────────────

“Dude, are you listening?” Maki complained for the nth time. 

“Yeah, I'm listening! I'm listening!” 

Silence.

He stared at you with a deadpan face before speaking again, “you were practically drooling looking over Heeseung, be serious here.”

“I wasn't–” before you could defend yourself, Heeseung showed up behind you two as you sat in the uni café.

“Hey guys,” he sweetly called, ruffling your hair.

“Speak of the devil,” Maki whispered teasingly, making you kick his shin under the table. 

He barely contained his groan of pain. 

“Am I interrupting something important?” Heeseung asked worriedly but you quickly shook your head, “don't worry about him, hee. You're welcome to sit with us.” You smiled warmly at him. Deciding to completely ignore how your heart was thumping out of your chest and side eyed Maki who just smirked with a knowing look. Fucking first years. 

You and Heeseung were seniors now and preparing for finals wasn't easy but he was always so understanding and helpful that it made it less unbearable. 

You almost hated it. 

Almost. 

“Anywayssss,” Maki playfully hit the table, “I'll get going now and leave you hags to work. Toodle-oo.” He left before neither of you can say a word. 

You shook your head like a tired mom. 

“That kid is seriously going to make me retire early.” 

Heeseung laughed, the kind of laugh that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside before you slapped your inner voices for being delusional again. He's. Just. A. Friend. Be. Normal. You keep reminding yourself. 

No matter how much you like him, you know you could never risk ruining your friendship over some dumb feelings. 

Fast forward, it is the weekend already and you got dragged by Maki to hang out. He said and I quote, "you're going to grow gray hairs and be bald by 30 if you stay in that room studying like it will save your dead hamster from dying of cancer.” 

You truly wonder what goes on his brain if anything does but you agree nonetheless. 

Finals are in 2 months now, and weirdly enough, you haven't seen Heeseung a lot lately. It wasn't like him to skip classes.

“Riki” you interrupted his hypothetical questions that made next to no sense to any sane human. 

“Yeah?” He was confused by the sudden name change. You only used his real name when it was something serious. 

“Is it just me or have you also noticed how Heeseung hasn't been attending classes all week? We texted a few times but something feels odd..” you finally let out the thoughts that have been plaguing you all week. 

“Now that you mention it..” He puts his hand on his chin. “He's been acting weird lately too. Last time I heard from him, Nicholas said that he hasn't seen Heeseung act so…brash.”

Heeseung? And brash? What in the world? 

Those two words were complete antonyms. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, according to Nicho, Heeseung was being weirdly out of character and flirting with everyone at the party last weekend.”

Your stomach churned, you hated that you cared who he was and wasn't flirting with. He isn't yours, snap out of it!

Riki must've noticed the look on your face, you never been one to hide your emotions that well. 

“It's probably someone that looks like him though!” He quickly added to reassure you. 

A few days have passed since your talk with Maki. 3 days to be precise. 

You were craving some snacks and decided to run to the convenience store down the street. The sun was setting and your neighborhood was relatively safe but you still wouldn't risk your chances so you picked up the pace a bit. Cursing the sun for setting too fast, the walk was about 10 minutes. 7 if you could help it. 

What you didn't expect was to see Heeseung walking around too but he looked so…different? Something about him definitely felt odd. 

“Heeseung!” You called out to him. 

He turned to look at you, and his eyes gave you chills. He didn't have that sweet, innocent boyish look to them anymore. They felt mature, calculated, and something else you couldn't pinpoint exactly. 

“What's up?” His deep voice gave you chills. 

Okay what the hell? You knew Heeseung had a nice voice but was it always this deep? Shaking the thoughts out of your head you try to act normal. Ignoring your gut feeling. 

“Where have you been?? Did you get sick-”

“Worried about me, princess?” His lips forming a lazy smirk, gaze never leaving yours. 

Okay now you're more confused. Heeseung never called you by pet names– and especially not that one. 

“I'm okayyy, just needed a breather is all.” He spoke nonchalantly before casually putting his arm around your shoulder as you walked, pulling you close. You flinched slightly, looking at him like he grew two heads. “Relax, I don't bite.” He came closer to your ear, “unless..?”

“Heeseung, did you hit your head or something?” Your words leaving your mouth before you could think twice. 

He chuckled, amused by your flustered state. 

“Can't a guy be nice and protect his best friend?” 

─────────────────────

Today was Monday, and Heeseung came to school. Only problem. He was back to being…Heeseung. 

You were starting to wonder if you were hallucinating him the other day. 

Maki nudged your shoulder, “what's up with you today?” 

“Hmm?” You respond dazed a bit. 

“You look stressed, girl. Are you getting any sleep?” He asked worriedly. 

“I'm okay–” 

“Bro, did you hear about the basketball match? Heeseung totally wiped their ass alone” a guy laughed, his friend responded, “yeah last weekend was insane.”

They walked out of sight but you sat there confused. 

Basketball? 

Match?

Sunday? 

You looked at Maki confused, “was Heeseung with you guys all Sunday?” 

“Yeah, why? He stayed overnight at Nicho's.” 

Every hair on your body stood up at that. 

You saw him and walked with him on that day. There's no way you hallucinated something so vivid but you bit your own tongue instead of prying further. 

“Oh just wondering.” You answered shortly with a smile. 

Maki could tell there was something more but decided to not pressure you for an answer so he just nodded. 

─────────────────────

You were absentmindedly cutting veggies for dinner, humming to yourself with soft jazz playing in the background. 

You're interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing, confused, you wipe your heads quickly in your apron to go to open it. 

Looking through the peephole you see Heeseung, but he looked different..again. Brushing it off, you open the door. 

“Hi cutie,” his demeanor calm but assertive as he welcomes himself in, hand lingering by your hips like it was just a normal Tuesday for him. 

“Hey,” you cursed yourself for sounding awkward but he just chuckled softly. 

“What are you doing here?” You don't miss the way he very not discreetly eyed you up and down, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“Can't I just hang out with my best friend?” There it is again. The way he says those words.. almost like it's a dirty secret. 

“Well, at least let me know.” You sigh, resuming to the kitchen, now preparing an extra plate for him. 

He sat there watching you intently. Sharp gaze never leaving your figure for too long. 

“Are you gonna keep sitting there and not helping me?” You turn, crossing your arms annoyed. 

“So bossy,” he steps closer to you now, chest flush against your back. His cologne mixed with his scent making you a little dizzy. “I like it though.” He whispered in your ear before suddenly breaking as if he didn't just make your heart collapse on itself. 

“No funny business Lee Heeseung.” You said pointing at him with the knife in your hand, “Yes ma'am” he dramatically puts his hand on his chest before bowing, eyes still fixated on yours. 

You roll your eyes at his antics but you both quietly move in rhythm. It was quiet but not the awkward kind but the peaceful kind until he occasionally interrupted it with his shameless attempts at flirting. 

You pretend to be unfazed but whatever game he was playing at had you hooked.

After finishing dinner, you insisted on washing the dishes to which he refused. 

“Heeseung, I can do it–”

He suddenly grabbed you, carrying you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. Letting out a gasp, you yell at him to put you down. 

“Nope, you will sit here and wait for me to be done washing the dishes.” He sets you down on the kitchen counter. “But–” 

“No buts. Sit.” His low deep voice makes the goosebumps on your skin rise. Letting out a grumble, you let him clean after you two. 

─────────────────────

You don't understand Heeseung anymore. One day he's hot and the next he's cold. 

One day he's assertive and weird and the next he's sweet and innocent. The sharp contrast making you lose your mind as you scream into your pillows in frustration. 

“DUMBASS I HATE YOU” 

“Hate who?” 

You quickly look up and find Heeseung leaning against your bedroom doorway with an amused look. His eyes glimmered with nothing but trouble. 

“Who let you in?” You questioned. 

“Myself,” he answered the question like it wasn't a big deal, dangling the keys you had given him to your apartment a long time ago. 

Letting out a frustrated sigh before standing up, “Heeseung you can't just barge in–” 

“Too bad,” he stepped closer, making your knees hit the bed. You fall into the bed, looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. 

Trapping your head between his arms, he hums, clearly enjoying torturing your poor heart. 

“I just wanted to see you.” His eyes dropped to your lips then eyes again, “can't I?” Tilting his head innocently. Except nothing about this was innocent. 

The words are stuck in your throat as you look at him. Really look at him. 

His soft eyes gone again, something about the air around him carried a quiet dominance that made your breath hitch. 

Snapping out of your daydreams, you push him off of you, not enough to hurt him but enough to make him move a little. 

“Say something, cutie.” He suddenly leaned impossibly closer. His breath smelling of mint and…cigarettes? Wait, since when did Heeseung smoke? 

“Did you smoke?” You blurted out before thinking. 

“Do you hate it?” He studied your expression. 

He was going to be the death of you. 

It's been a month now of this weird push and pull dynamic. Every time Heeseung was back to “normal” he would act as if nothing happened between you two leaving you more puzzled. You couldn't figure it out for the life of you. 

Sitting at the library in the quiet hours of the evening, you decided to go on reddit of all places to find answers for your slow descent to madness. 

“if he's giving you mixed signals, he is a red flag, avoid him!” Is what you mostly got. Sighing in defeat. But Heeseung was anything but a red flag so what the hell is wrong with him? Is it possible for guys to go through a second puberty in the 20s?

Until something caught your eye. Scrolling. 

“Beware of doppelgangers!” It reads making you roll your eyes at the obvious attention bait. 

I mean what kind of idiot–

“if one day they act normal and the next they are completely different with no explanation you might be dealing with a doppelganger.” You find yourself reading more to validate how insane you felt the past month.

“If they act like they don't remember what they told you before or constantly ditch plans almost as if they didn't even remember planning them. Or how they are mysteriously at two places at the same time, you aren't going crazy.”

“Doppelgangers are known to be sly and reveal the inner secrets and feelings of those who they possess. They are a separate body but the same mind.” 

Your eyebrows furrow upon reading more. Suddenly you got a text from Maki, “yo, do you wanna hang out? I'm with Heeseung right now.” 

You decline politely, you need time to think and away from him. Then. Suddenly, a drink was placed on your table. Looking up, you froze. 

Heeseung?

Okay, what the fuck? How is he here if he's with Maki right now who is at least 20 minutes away. There's just no scientific explanation for this. 

“What's wrong, cutie? You look like you have seen a ghost?” He smirks, sitting closer to you, noting how you quickly closed the tabs you were on. 

“Oh, it's nothing, just didn't expect you to be here is all.” You replied shortly, rushed. Looking away from him. You were half panicking now. 

How does he keep finding me? What the hell? 

“Hmm, had a feeling you were here so I got you your usual order. You've been working so hard lately, you deserve a little reward.” He nudged your shoulder, breath too close to your face with a knowing smile. 

For some reason every word that left his lips felt like sin. One that you didn't mind. 

You didn't know how long you could keep dancing around whatever this is. 

You found yourself trapped. Who is the real Heeseung? And is it bad if you like this version of him more? 

He keeps getting bolder each time, his feather touch leaving your mind reeling and skin burning for more. You unintentionally avoid the real Heeseung. Too scared to face him and not sure what is true and what isn't anymore. 

But deep down you wanted to continue this facade just a little longer.

─────────────────────

“Heeseung are you okay? You seem down in the dumps lately” Maki asked him carefully, sensing how tense he has been. 

“I don't know man, I feel like I'm going crazy lately.” He finally confessed. 

Maki and Nicho looked at each other and back at him. Patiently waiting for him to continue. 

“I don't understand why but for the past month she's been avoiding me like I have the plague! We text sometimes but I swear I don't remember typing half of what I send. I just don't know what I did wrong.” He looked at his friends, his eyes unable to hide the hurt he was feeling as he slumped into his seat. Wallowing in his pain like he's been divorced and lost custody of his kids. 

“Heeseung.” Nicholas calmly called his friend. 

“Yeah..” 

“Do you have feelings for her?” 

He blushed before nodding slowly making the other two sigh. 

“Just tell her, man!” 

“No way! I can't ruin our friendship and lose her.” He pouted. 

“At least ask her why she's been avoiding you?” Maki added. 

“Sometimes I feel like there's two of me and I can't understand which is me..” Heeseung muttered to himself.

“What was that?” 

“Nothing nothing.”

Except it wasn't nothing. 

Heeseung walked home alone that night stuck in his own thoughts before he was suddenly grabbed by someone and pulled on an alleyway. 

He was ready to confront the person until he saw who it was. 

“What the fuck?!”

“Hello to you too Heeseung” 

He stared directly at the literal spitting image of himself. 

The him who wore leather jackets, styled his hair with gel, rode a motorcycle and was carefree, the version of him that he couldn't ever become. 

“No you aren't dreaming or on drugs.” He pulls a cigarette and lighter, looking bored. 

“What the hell are you?” Heeseung cursed in his head from his voice cracking. 

“Well, for starters, I'm you– more like another version as you can see.” He gestures to his outfit. “The less loser version at least.” 

“Hey!” 

“Everyone has a doppelganger out there that they eventually meet. And no you can't kill me or you die too.” He smiled at him but it wasn't warm, it was one that made the hairs on his arms stand. 

“Your point?” Heeseung had enough. 

“Back off of her.” He said nonchalantly. 

Her? Who is her–

“Y/n? How do you know her?” His entire demeanor changed, flipping to protective mode. 

“Relax, Romeo.” He purred, finding this all some kind of game. 

“She doesn't know there's two of you out there and by the looks of it, she likes this version more.” He threw away the cigarette, stepping on it before walking closer. 

“Your time is ticking and you're losing horribly.” He laughed at him in a sickening way while resting his hand on his shoulder. 

“Good luck.” He– it– whatever he is told him. No warned him. 

“She isn't yours!” 

“Touché” Smirking, he disappeared into the night. Leaving Heeseung breathless and confused. 

What the fuck just happened?

That night he laid awake, refusing to let some version of him take you away from him.

─────────────────────

Finals were now in about 2 weeks and you were cramming like crazy in your room. Lost in your own little world as you often are. 

Your phone kept ringing, making you sigh. 

“What?” Your voice came out sharper than intended. 

“Woah, relax, cutie.” Heeseung chuckled. 

“Does this man ever take anything serious?” 

You didn't realize you spoke out loud until he unexpectedly responded, “you wound me? You don't think I'm serious?” 

You roll your eyes despite him not being able to see you. 

“Spill it already, I'm busy.” 

Your doorbell rang, “come down cutie.” He said finally before cutting the call. It wasn't a request either, it was a command. Your jaw dropped. He has officially lost it. 

Grabbing your cardigan, you went down to open the door. 

You are suddenly pulled by him. 

“What–” 

He puts a helmet on your head before you can protest and grabs your hand, effectively rendering you speechless. 

“Come on, let's go for a ride.” He flashed his infamous smirk. Totally unbothered by his own absurdity. 

Since when can Heeseung ride a motorcycle??

“Do you even have a license?” You cross your arms. Doubtful. 

He dramatically puts his hand on his heart, “you have no faith in me, you wound me, cutie.” 

“Good.” You replied sharply but you still found yourself sitting behind him as the engine roared into the quiet night. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Praying he can't hear how loud your heartbeats were. 

After a while you arrive at an unknown place where you can view the city lights decorating the skies like stars. 

He helps you out of the motorcycle, his hand wrapped around yours tightly. 

“Where are we?” 

“Somewhere he should've taken you on a long time ago..” He muttered. 

“Hmm?” You tilt your head, looking at him confused with your big eyes and lashes fluttering, the wind only adding more to how angelic you look, and it takes every muscle in his body to not hold you and kiss you right there and then. 

“Don't worry your pretty head about it, princess.” Anddd he's back to being cocky and flirty again making you glare at him. 

You both stared silently at the view ahead. He didn't notice at first but you were looking at him eventually, trying to figure out who or what he is because deep down you knew this wasn't Heeseung. This wasn't your Heeseung. 

“Quit eyeing me like a creep and just spit it out.” He said, interrupting the peaceful moment, his sharp gaze boring into your soul. 

“Heeseung..”

You remember back to that reddit article you read. 

“Doppelgangers are known to be sly and reveal the inner secrets and feelings of those who they possess. They are a separate body but the same mind.”

“What's your end goal here?” 

“And don't act dumb with me.” You pointed a finger at him. He grabbed it gently and guided it to his heart. 

“You.” He answered like it was the easiest question ever. Like it was whatever. 

“I'm serious here” you warned him but your heart was betraying you. 

“Who said I wasn't?” He tilted his head at you, confused. 

Refusing to spare him another glance you looked away but he kept looking at you. Eventually he sighed and grabbed your chin, “look at me, y/n.” It was the first time your name left his lips since he changed and it made your stomach flip. Hesitantly, you look at him again. 

You know this is dangerous, friends don't hold each other like this, friends don't daydream of ‘what ifs’ about each other, friends don't look at each other with yearning eyes. 

The lines blur completely when you find yourself leaning closer to him. Feeling his warm breath against your lips. 

The tension in the air was cut by the sounds of a phone ringing. 

Dazed, you snap out of it and quickly back away, maintaining the appropriate distance because you're just friends. 

─────────────────────

“We have one week left, I'm totally screwing this up anyway.” Maki pouted. 

“If this is you trying to ditch studying at the library again then forget it.” You stared at him like a mom scolding her kid. 

“Come onnnnn,” he shook your shoulder as if you would magically gain more sympathy for the boy. 

“No.” You concluded, gathering your books and stepping out of class. 

“HEY WAIT” you both turn to find Heeseung running, he stood in front of you two, catching his breath like he ran a marathon. 

You have been avoiding Heeseung even more now, refusing to answer his texts or calls after that night. Were you being a coward? Absolutely. 

“Can we talk?” He nervously looked at you, “please?” giving you his bambi eyes that you could never say no to. Damn you Lee Heeseung. 

“Fine.” You coldly responded, making him shiver at your tone. 

Maki quietly excused himself leaving you two alone now in the empty hallways. 

You felt your throat close up. You weren't sure how to approach him anymore. You looked at your feet. 

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, his voice small and unsure. This was your Heeseung, the timid idiot who always made sure to never overstep or hurt anyone. The one who wore his heart on his sleeves proudly and cared too much. 

“Yes.” You tried to keep your tone stern. Not wanting to fall into any more traps. 

“Why?” His voice cracked. 

“Heeseung.” You finally look up and meet his eyes, wide and filled with confusion and hurt. 

The words stabbing at your throat begging to be let out. So many questions and you don't know where to start. 

“Can we talk about this later.” There you are once again running away. Running away from him. 

Turning your heel to walk away, you are shocked when you feel his hand grab your arm. 

“Why do you keep running away from me? Did I do something wrong? Did I upset you? Please just talk to me–”

“Heeseung!” Your voice rising higher. Overwhelmed by the sudden confrontation you no longer hold back what you have been feeling. 

“One day you act cold and the next you act…like…like this! I don't understand you anymore! One moment you act like you want me more than a friend and the next you are back to treating me like we are just friends. What do YOU want from me?” The tears now spilling leaving him speechless. He looked so confused and that hurt you more. 

Of course he doesn't know. You thought to yourself. 

You walk away before you can hear his answer, he stood there shocked and mortified. He wanted to chase after you and apologize but even he wasn't sure anymore of what is real and what isn't. 

He wakes up some days feeling like there's something he should know or remember but can't. 

What is his or not anymore?

─────────────────────

Today is the first day of finals. You and Heeseung haven't talked since. Everyone around you was confused but didn't say a word. It wasn't like you two to fight and not make up the next day. It wasn't like you two to avoid one another. It wasn't like you two to skip classes. It wasn't like you two to not be found laughing a storm in the cafeteria. 

But what was like you two then? Because it seems like neither of you can admit it. 

You haven't slept in days, feeling like a walking zombie. You barely even talk anymore. 

Maki and Nicholas were getting even more worried about you and him.

“We need to do something about those two.” Maki worriedly tells him. 

“But what can we do if they don't even want to look at one another.” Nicholas sighs, frustrated that they can't do much here. 

They watched as Heeseung sat alone in the cafeteria looking miserable and unlike himself. He was always the sunshine and mood maker in every room he stepped in but it's like his light has been dimmed. 

“I can't keep watching him like this either.” Now it was Maki's turn to sigh.

They had given you two space out of respect but they couldn't just watch you both destroy yourselves like this anymore. 

“You look pitiful.” Heeseung looked up from his bed to find him again. 

“What do you want? Aren't you happy you can have her now?” 

He laughed at him, like actually laughed. 

Heeseung's eyebrows furrow, “what's so funny!” He asked, frustrated now.

“We are the same person, dumbass.” He simply responded. 

“But didn't you–” 

“I said that to make you get your shit together and it seems like you're still the same coward you always were.” “How long are you going to keep doing this? Until you die and she blames herself?” 

He can't believe he is essentially getting yelled at by his own self. 

“IT'S YOUR DAMN FAULT SHE WON'T EVEN LOOK AT ME” He yelled back, louder.

“I WAS TRYING TO HELP!” 

“I NEVER ASKED FOR YOUR HELP!” 

“I WISH YOU WOULD JUST DISAPPEAR”

Silence. 

They both stared at one another. 

No one dared to even move. 

“Well. That's too bad.” He spat out suddenly vanishing, leaving Heeseung by himself.

Finals have ended and it is officially summer break season. 

Which meant you no longer had to dodge Heeseung in the hallways and pretend he doesn't exist anymore.

Opening your laptop, you found yourself browsing on reddit again. Going back to that article you found. 

“Doppelgangers can't be killed without you dying in the process as well but they can be sealed. To truly ‘defeat’ one you must come to accept that it is just another version of yourself that you can't erase. It is still you, still your feelings and mind in another form. They are your deep desires that you are too afraid to speak out into the world.”

“Deep desires?” You muttered to yourself. 

“What's your end goal here?” 

“And don't act dumb with me.” You pointed a finger at him. He grabbed it gently and guided it to his heart. 

“You.” He answered like it was the easiest question ever. Like it was whatever. 

“I'm serious here” you warned him but your heart was betraying you. 

“Who said I wasn't?” He tilted his head at you, confused.

Did he really mean that..? 

You felt like an idiot now. 

Somewhere out there Heeseung was reflecting on his actions, having had enough of sitting still and being pitiful. He found himself reading some oddly suspicious article on reddit. 

“Can't be killed?” He whispered to no one in particular. 

The next day he found himself standing in front of his mirror, he was planning to see you again but not before he confronted him– well himself. 

“Oh would you look at that,” speak of the devil. He showed up again with his arms crossed and smirk ever so evident. 

“Are you finally coming to your senses?” He asked. 

“I am.” Heeseung's tone was firm and sure. No longer hesitant or confused. 

“I can't lose her because I'm a coward who can't accept his own feelings like a man. For all my life, I have always done what everyone has told me without any thought and pushed my own desires away thinking they were less important but now I see how that only pushed away the one person I never wanted to lose.”

“If you're a part of myself that I buried deep down, then maybe it's time for me to stop hiding.” He concluded. 

“Well done.” That's all he said to Heeseung before suddenly turning into dust slowly and merging back with him. 

Heeseung let out a sharp exhale at the feeling in his bones. It's like a part of himself was weirdly back. 

After collecting himself, he is suddenly flooded with memories of his other self with you. The memories that were missing from the real him. 

Your smile, your flustered face, your warmth, your scolding, you. It was only ever you from the start. His selfish desire. 

Making dinner, you stare at the stove like it had all the answers to your problems and maybe it did because then the doorbell rang. 

Not sure who it could be at this hour, you step to open it without checking. 

In front of you was Heeseung, with his black hoodie and sweats, awkward smile, and comforting presence. 

“Hi” he broke the silence first. 

“Hey?” You hated that you sounded so unsure of yourself now. Scared that this is another vision and that he wasn't real. 

You wordlessly let him in. He followed you to the kitchen, standing opposite of each other. 

“I'm sorry” he spoke again. 

“I'm sorry I was a coward that confused you and made you think that I…didn't care because I do! I care about you more than anyone, even myself.” He laughed dryly, nervous. 

“I love you– more than friends should and I've been such a coward that I buried it all deep inside of me thinking you deserve better but I guess I'm too selfish to let you go.” 

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Tears building in your eyes. His earnest gaze never leaving yours. 

“It's okay if you don't feel the same–”

“Heeseung.” 

“Its okay if you don't feel the same–”

“Lee Heeseung.”

You step closer and closer, breaking all the walls between you two in seconds as you grab his hoodie. Locking your lips against his. His bambi eyes glowing in the kitchen lighting, shocked. 

Pulling back bashfully. 

“I love you too, dumbass. More than friends should.” You repeat his words from earlier making him smile. 

He grabs the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Needing to inhale the air you breathe. Needing to be as close to you as he physically could. 

You both stand there, lips keeping one another warm. His hands grab at your hips, your bodies merging into one. Finally let out all the things you couldn't say to each other through all these years. 

He carefully places you on the kitchen counter and you both giggle at the memory because in the end it's not that you loved the other Heeseung more. It's that you loved every version of him.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” He whispered softly between your lips. 

“Yes.” You whispered back, hands cradling his face gently before placing a soft kiss on his lips. 

You both smile. Maybe you were idiots all along but you wouldn't trade each other for anything. Okay maybe you would trade him for a caramel glazed donut but don't tell him that!

─────────────────────

EPILOGUE: 

You and Heeseung are now standing hand in hand in your graduation caps taking photos. 

“Heeseung come on we need to take pictures with the others, your girlfriend won't disappear if you leave for one second!” Maki called out exasperated. 

“Yeah yeah!” Heeseung yelled back. 

“Go,” you giggled, nudging his shoulder playfully. 

“Be back princess,” he kissed your lips sweetly before running to Maki and the others to finish taking photos. 

This wasn't the end yet but your beginning together. 

If you love someone, tell them. 

─────────────────────

© heeikeuu | likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

TAGLIST: @cutehoons02, @k1ttyjwon, @ewsnup, @imaluvsj7 (comment to be added to the series taglist <3)

[lovinganora]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “WHY DONT YOU QUIT.. AND RUN AWAY WITH ME?”

synopsis: worn down by bloodshed, you ask your partner, who is equally as tired and exhausted as you, to run away alongside you. somewhere far, somewhere unknown, but just the two of you. happy, alone, but having each other. but.. do they want that type of life?

✧.* ft: satoru gojo. yuta okkotsu. megumi fushiguro x gender neutral reader (separately)

✧.* warnings: none— all sfw. can be seen as romantic or platonic, some prompts may indicate a romantic relationship though. reader wants to run away.

✧.* notes: chainsaw man reference but there’s no spoilers for chainsaw man or for jujutsu kaisen below >_< this is my first post that i wrote myself ! English isn’t my first language so bear w me ! and no this wasn’t proofread 😭😭

The sky was a bruised watercolor of lavender and ash, clouds dragging sluggishly over the dying sun. It looked similar to a painting, the colors blurred together and merging perfectly with a soft padded brush smearing across the colors in an effortless swipe. Salt clung to the air like breath on glass, resembling the salty tasted sea, and the waves rolled in slow and sleepy, soft like lullabies whispered by the sea.

You stood beside your partner in silence, so close to where it was shoulder to shoulder that barely brushed against each others, but they don’t pull away, and neither do you.

The ocean was sighing just a few feet away. A gull cried far off, and the tide left a trail of broken shells behind as if the sea itself was shedding pieces of something too fragile to keep. Alike how the sea foam clung onto the sand before being dragged out again in a meticulous cycle, clinging on what it could before being whisked away once more.

You turned to them, eyes tired but lit by something tender. Warmth, hope, a plea. Or something far more dangerous. Their eyes were admiring the sea, almost in a child-like manner as the scene reflected into their own eyes before that same pair landed onto you once more.

“I thought about it a lot, but..” you murmured, voice carried softly on the wind as it trailed off as if your voice had been taken away by the wind. Your hand found theirs, warm, calloused, familiar, and you lifted your other hand to slowly envelop their hand in a warm encasement as you slowly lifted it, placing it right against your chest where your heartbeat stuttered beneath.

“Why don’t you quit.. and run away with me?” You murmured gently, watching how their eyes widened in surprise.

“I’ll make you happy,” you added,

“I’ll protect you all your life,” you watch as they took a slow blink as if processing the situation.

“Please.”

THE HONORED ONE

warnings; ooc gojo? I don’t think I write him well, suguru is slightly mentioned?? it’s more like he was implied.. you’ll get what I mean when u read. gojo calling the reader “smaller” can be implied that reader is weaker than him, however you want to interpret it is up to you. ending left vague and up to interpretation. spoiler free.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, as if wanting to eagerly hear what the strongest man of today had to say. Not in the grand, dramatic way the world tends to stop in horror or fear, but in a quiet, eager manner, like a held breath between heartbeats. The wind stilled just enough to let your words carry, and the ocean, in all its ancient rhythm, seemed to still its own voice just long enough for Satoru to fully hear you.

His fingers twitched beneath your hands.

They hit him with the weight of something far more tender and sweet, more than someone should after they just confessed to run away with them. His breath caught in his throat, and for the first time in a long, long time— Satoru Gojo was speechless.

“I’ll protect you all your life,”

Those words were what supposedly hit him the hardest. Not you telling him you wanted to run away, not you telling him that you’d make him happy.. he knew you would, you already do, but you confessing that you’d be the one protecting him after he was always the protector?

You said it so gently. So simply. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But no one had ever said that to him before.

Not like that.

Not meant it like that.

He stared at you, stunned into silence, and your gaze held steady— tender, loving, hopeful for his answer, but full of that same stubborn warmth you always showed him. Warmth you always insisted on giving him, even when he didn’t know what to do with it.

A laugh escaped him, breathy, shaky, a little too raw to be considered charming. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes searching yours as if trying to understand what he’d just heard.

“You’ll protect me, huh?” he echoed, his voice light, but thick with something under it. A tremor. Disbelief. But not in a bad way. “You… you realize who you’re talking to, right?”

His fingers curled a little tighter around yours.

“I’m the strongest. The one everyone expects to protect everybody. The guy who’s been something usable since he was fifteen. Since before that, actually.. probably.” His voice cracked, not loudly, just enough to feel like something pulled tight at the seams.

His eyes searched down at the floor for a moment as if hoping for an answer against the pavement. Then he looked back at you. His eyes looking through the cracks and crevices of his lashes. And then he smiled, not the cocky grin he gave to the world, but something smaller. Quieter. Just for you.

He lifted his head up.

“D’you have any idea how flattering that is?” he asked, voice softer than the wind now. “That you’d want to protect me?”

His thumb brushed against your knuckles, slow and thoughtful.

“It’s kind of funny,” he went on, eyes glassy but burning, “how you.. someone smaller, someone softer, make me feel like less of a weapon without even trying. Just by saying something like that.”

He paused. Took a slow breath.

“You want to hear what I think?” He spoke with certainty, but for a moment it sounded like there were cracks in his voice. Almost as if, despite the certainty in his voice, it wobbled otherwise.

“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted, voice low, thick with something that trembled beneath the surface. “Running away. Saying ‘screw it’ to everything and just disappearing with you. Letting the world fend for itself without somebody like me.”

His hand that was encased in yours slowly held onto the hand that was pressing against the palm of his.

“But If I leave, who’s gonna protect the kids? The ones with innocence that shouldn’t be taken away? Who’s gonna stop what happened to me from happening again to them?”

And then, quieter: “so with my final act of love, I’ll let you go.” he murmured, and this time his words came out almost like a vow, “it’s not because I don’t want you. Or because I’m scared to choose you. It’s because I love you too damn much to let you carry the weight of my choice.”

His forehead pressed into yours, his grip tightening, as though trying to imprint the moment into his bones.

“So if you walk away now, I’ll let you,” he said. “Not because I want to lose you. But because I trust you. To live. To be safe. To find happiness.”

A beat passed.

And then— his grin returned, faint, but a flash of the old Satoru glinted beneath it.

“But if I ever find you again,” he whispered, voice low and electric, “I’m not letting you go. I’ll take you back. I’ll snatch you right off the sidewalk, I don’t care what city or country you’re in.”

His voice dipped, a touch of playfulness curling into the ache.

“So don’t get caught, sweetheart,” he teased gently, though it was barely hiding the pain in his eyes. “..because something like this had already happened before.”

He leaned in, lips brushing the edge of your temple.

“…so let me be selfish for one time.. and let me take that as a sign that fate finally said it was time.”

THE LOVE CURSED BOY

warnings; ooc yuta help, implied happy ending for yuta & reader if you take into consideration on how jjk ended and connecting it with what yuta says, but there’s no indication on the jjk ending. spoiler free.

Yuta's breath is caught in his own throat.

His reaction wasn't loud. Not dramatic. But deep down his heart had never been as loud as it was ever before, like something inside him had been knocked loose, oh god, did a blood vessel in his heart tear? Is that why is heart was beating so erratically in his chest like a drum echoing deep in his mind to reach the words that settled into his brain?

His eyes were wide, a pair of sleepy blue puppy-like eyes boring into your own, unreadable, and you could see the thoughts flickering behind them like shadows in the tide. He didn’t move his hand from yours. He didn’t pull away. But you could feel it, the tremble in his fingers, the way his heart was suddenly struggling between two impossible choices.

his newfound friends or you, what a cruel choice to make.

“I’ll protect you all your life.”

Those echoed inside him like a lullaby sung underwater, sweet and blurry and so far from anything he’d ever been offered. It wasn’t like he hasn’t been protected before, he knew what it was like for years despite the loneliness he faced.

But nobody had ever done that, nobody had ever said that to him without being forced to stay by his side in some way shape or form. But you did, with your own free will.

Not even when he was young and terrified and carrying the ghost of a dead girl on his back. Not when classmates avoided his eyes, not when he isolated himself from his own family to keep them safe from the curse that he settled onto himself, not when the only voice that filled the silence was Rika’s twisted, angry, all-consuming. He hadn’t had friends. He hadn’t had family. All he had was grief… and the monstrous power that came with it.

Until Jujutsu High.

Until Maki… with her pushiness to shape him into someone more, like a sharp edged tool carving into wood.

Until Toge… who never needed words to make him feel safe, like a wordless binding that he’ll stay without ever saying it.

Until Panda… who treated his name, “Yuta” like it meant something, like a promised threat to others that he’s strong enough to do something in retaliation.

Until you… who showed him how to let go, how to grieve and move on, the polisher to Maki’s carving to make him into something brand new and repaired.

And now, standing here, he had what he had always longed for: people. Real people. People who saw him properly, not as a curse, not as a vessel for violence, not a boy grieving over his first love, someone who was weak and scared that couldn’t protect anybody that he loved, but as Yuta. And it tore at him, eating away at his heart to be split in the middle.

Because for the first time in his life… he wasn’t alone.

so why did he have to run? why would he need to run?

yuta would never have a reason to like you did.

His eyes dropped to your hands, still cradling his, still pressed against your chest where your heartbeat fluttered like something desperate. His throat bobbed, and when he looked back at you, there was something wet shining in the corners of his eyes.

“I’ve always been alone,” he said. “Even before Rika died, I was lonely. But after she became that.. after she haunted me.. I didn’t talk to anyone. I couldn’t. People either ran from me or Rika got too overbearing. I didn’t have friends. I didn’t have anything.”

He exhaled shakily, and his shoulders dropped a little.

“But now I do.” His voice cracked. “I finally have them. Maki, Toge, Panda… you.” His gaze on you was aching. “I finally have people who make me feel less lonely.”

He paused, the silence between you filled only by the rhythmic hush of the tide.

“So when you ask me to leave…” He squeezed your hand, not out of anger, but because it hurt. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. God, I do. If it was just me.. if I didn’t love them, if I didn’t need them too— I’d already be in the car with you. I’d already be gone.”

He turned toward you fully now, eyes glassy, but voice steadier, as if he needed you to understand. Sweat beading from the sides of his temple and dragged down the side of his head in a slow and anxious movement as if it was careful too like his words.

“It’s hard to choose between the life I always wanted and the person that gave me a reason to have it.”

He brought your joined hands back to his chest this time, right over his own heart, you could feel it there, frantic and aching.

“But I want you to know something,” he said, leaning forward, pressing his forehead to yours. “If there ever comes a day when I don’t have to choose between two things I love most, when we can have both.. I’ll come to you. No hesitation. Just me. I’ll run with you wherever you want to go.”

His voice softened to a whisper.

“I’ll find you,” he promised. “If this world ever lets me go, I’ll come straight to you.“

And even though he couldn’t walk away now, even though duty and friendships and loyalty still held him where he stood.. Yuta Okkotsu loved you deeply, truly, enough to make a world where you could make a choice to turn away with no duty to fight with no consequence and to allow himself to continue loving his friends too.

And someday… he would.

THE BLESSING

warnings; ooc megumi, idk how to write characters cuz this is my first time so I think all of them r ooc LMFAOOA. but by far I think I screwed up on megumi’s prompt the most bye. ending left vague but implied happy ending iykyk. I really tried to get megumi’s character as best as I can so im sorry if I ended up butchering it. spoiler free.

The wind kissed the edge of Megumi’s hair, lifting a few dark strands away from his forehead as his gaze remained steady on you. But something in him had gone very still. Not the cold stillness that often stuck onto him like armor, not the kind built by silence or strategy or obligation.. but something more vulnerable, as if the world itself had paused inside his chest.

He could feel the shape of your hand beneath his palm, warm, delicate, squeezing faintly beneath the illusion of strength when you needed stability. And beneath it, your heartbeat. Uneven, hurried, stuttering like the hush before the sea crashes against the shore. He didn’t dare speak yet. Words felt too clumsy for this moment despite it lingering on the tip of his tongue, and his mind was running far faster than his mouth could ever catch up.

Run away?

He wasn’t sure what struck him more, the audacity of your request or the softness you genuinely had in which you offered it. Like you were handing him the key to something he never thought he was allowed to dream about, that he’d never allow himself to ever live for.

For a long time, he had only lived for duty. Not for the weight of his father’s absence. Not for the legacy of the Zen’in blood that he had tried so hard to escape and still somehow bore in the shape of his shoulders. But for his sister and the ideology that good people have to be saved, deserved to be saved, and that people like him needed to guarantee those people’s happiness.

He wasn’t raised to believe happiness was a thing you could choose. Let alone something someone else would offer so freely.

He blinked again.. slower this time, lashes sweeping down like the wings of a tired crow, and his throat tightened as he looked at you.

“Don’t say things like that,” he finally whispered. His voice wasn’t angry, but hoarse. “You know I can’t do that.. and you know why I’m doing this.”

But your hand didn’t flinch from his. Your touch didn’t loosen. If anything, you held him closer, as if daring him to keep resisting when you were offering the most dangerous kind of kindness: unconditional love.

But he was already being uncharacteristic when he decided to allow himself to love you, being selfish and pulling you with him because it hurts too much to imagine you living the life he always wanted with you with someone else.

Now you’re asking more selfishness from him when you know he already struggled to be selfish at all?

“Run away with you…” he repeated under his breath, as if testing the words on his tongue. “What does that even mean? Just… leave it all behind? The school, the missions, the people we’ve sworn to protect? You know I can’t do that.”

“it means choosing yourself for once. Choosing us. Even just for a little while. A week. A day. An hour.”

Megumi looked up then, finally truly looked at you, his eyes narrowed in temptation and debate, something inside him cracked so quietly it was almost sacred. The same boy who once said he only saved good people because he didn’t want kind people to die, the one who lived in quiet shadows just outside the warmth he offered others, was now staring at someone who saw him, and still said: I’ll protect you.

A breath trembled from his lungs. And slowly, as if drawn by gravity he never believed in until now, he stepped closer. His free hand lifted to your face, fingertips brushing your cheekbone, the corner of your jaw. His thumb ghosted over the edge of your lips like he was memorizing something too precious to say out loud.

“I can’t do that.” He says quietly as if hesitating. “it would’ve all been for nothing. Tsumiki, all those people I’ve fought for… they’d be nothing more than a stepping stone to my own happiness. That’s not who I want to be.”

A gull cried in the distance again. The sea retreated and returned, again and again, endless in its devotion.

His thumb gently touched your skin in slow motion and mannerisms, his touch reverent, memorizing, as if this was the last time he’d be allowed to hold you like this.

“I need to stay,”

you knew that was going to be his answer, even when he pulled away and turned his head toward the horizon again, and stood still, shoulders straight, the weight of purpose stitched into the fabric of his being. Your heart ached, you hoped for him to be selfish, at least just for once, just for one time..

but,

maybe one day, he’ll try to live for someone else once more.

you knew he would.

author notes: WOOOO!! first post finished :p, i guess im somewhat proud of this but idk i wrote this at midnight last night HAHA so some things may be more ooc especially megumi’s, idk if i grasped his entire character right but to be entirely fair its my first time writing him.

please get the reference I added at the end of Megumi’s prompt with the “to live for someone else once more” im begging its supposed to imply that reader and Megumi had a happy ending if u remember the details in chapter 268, I really did try to get Megumi’s character right 💔

yuta setting standards of a man imagine changing an entire system if it meant he could keep his partner happy and be with them at the same time

[powerfultenderness]

Watching a movie with Roommate!Soap, you're both tired but also want to spend time together. The sexual and romantic tension has been building for weeks and your think this is where it culminates.

(Soap/fem Reader. 18+/ MDNI)

Somehow you end up laying down together, him spooning you as you fall asleep to the movie. Its almost sinful how much you enjoy being wrapped up in his big arms, his thick thigh shoved between yours, nestled right up against your pussy. Every time he chuckles or makes a comment about the movie, warm breath fanning your skin, deep hot accented voice rumbling through your ear and going straight to your cunt.

You concentrate so hard on not turning this completely "platonic roommate cuddle" weird that you actually fall asleep to the movie.

Not for long though. You manage not to jump awake when you feel Johnny's hand on your hip, grip firm but not painful, and what is very obviously his hard dick pressed up against your ass. Your stomach flips, panic, confusion and arousal all heating you up.

Instead of pushing him away, or pushing further into him, you pretend you're still asleep. He's breathing harder than he usually does and for a moment you think he's also sleeping, until you feel him slide his dick up your ass and hear him quietly grunt.

Ok, maybe he actually is asleep and he's just dreaming. You don't want to jump to conclu-

it happens again, this time the hand on your hip slips under your shirt, his hand burning against your bare skin. He continues to slowly, agonizingly slow, dry hump you, his hand on your skin dipping further down to play with the top of your sleep shorts.

As much as you would love the feeling of his thick fingers playing with you, you take a deep breath, acting like you just woke up.

"Johnny?"

He's suddenly still behind you and when you turn, his eyes are gently shut and his mouth hanging open slightly, the picture perfect image of a man asleep.

"Oh," you drop your voice to a whisper. "Are you asleep?"

If he ever decided to leave the military, maybe he could consider acting. With the way his breathing evened out and he was laying still and relaxed you might have thought he really was asleep, prominent boner and all.

You couldn't help the smirk that pulled at your lips, knowing he couldn't even see it without giving himself away.

"Poor guy," you continue to whisper as you pull the throw blanket sitting on the back of the couch and drape it over him. "They work you so hard, don't they?"

It took every ounce of control he had not to agree with you, to let you pamper him. "If you were awake, I would have offered you a blowjob. Oh well."

Johnny's eyes shoot open and he quickly sits up, "really?"

"I knew it, you perv!" You laugh and lightly push him back.

He chuckles as he catches your hand, brining it up to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on the inside of your wrist, grinning up at you. "That mean you don't wanna blow me?"

"Well, I didn't say that..."

[natlovesyousm]

MILEVEN BREAK UP SCENE FOR S5 THEORIES!!!!!

Bear in mind that it is like really damn late so my brain isnt fully working, but I wanted to give yall some juicy theories before I went to bed.

This nice evening we will be going through what I think will happen in s5 with mileven!

- First of all; On what episode should we expect to see a possible mileven breakup + what volume?

Well, to clear off things first, this is how I think the episodes will be divided in s5:

• Volume 1 (26 nov): episodes 1,2,3,4

• Volume 2 (25 dec): episodes 5,6,7

• Volume 3 "the finale" (31 dec): episode 8

*again, this are my speculations, none of this is confirmed!!*

This being said, I think its pretty possible that the mileven breakup scene will happen prior episode 7, but not too early in the season, so in Volume 2, about episodes 5-6, since it is speculated that on that episode (7) we will be getting loads of byler scenes (and a possible kiss), and it wouldnt be quite right for Mike and Will to be having all of that romantic tension in that episodes while Mike is already in a relationship with El.

- Now, with this cleared off, how could the break up scene go?

• Mileven in the trailer of season 5 + leaked mileven scene.

As we all know, we have been show a mileven scene in the trailer. In case someone wants to check, the trailer is up on YouTube and the fragment im about to talk about is in TikTok.

In that scene, we Saw Mike and El sitting in front of an OPENED CLOSET (not a very subtle move there duffers) and they are holding each other's hand, while the other one (El's) is resting on Mike's face, and Mike's other hand seems to be just on the floor. (This sounds hella confusing, idk how to explain it properlly but, again, you have the trailer up on YouTube)

Many mileven stand have started that this scene right here is a love scene, while, for a lot of byers (including myself) have said that this is not a love scene, but more of a "support scene in a way.

You see how El is touching Mike's face, and Mike looks at her in that way, it just screams platonic + its ok not to be ok scene.

• Mileven leak

I have to clarify that a lot of people have tried to read their lips and know what they are saying, and im going to talk about what they are talking about following what I understood, and taking into acount some vids on the theme. This being said:

They seem to be talking about how their relationship is having major issues, This is why I think this is the break up scene, just watch the leak and how everything looks; clear sky, they seem to be in a high place of some sort, and they are alone, so it would be the perfect time to talk about a breakup. We can even see Mike mention Will a few times during this scene. Again, I dont have a lot to say about this scene either, but becouse its really hard to read other's lips, but there are videos on YouTube that explain and theorise over this leak very deeply, so i would recomend checking them out!

- Conclusion...

Ok, so, after all we discused on this post (its almost 1am im loosing my shit) we can say that:

1: Mileven break up scene might happen on episodes 5 or 6 (Volume 2).

2: Trailer mileven scene seems to happen after the possible "breakup scene" in the leak.

3: They break up in s5.

BYLER ENDGAME!

- Natalia