#ERMMM I MEAN who said that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coqhee · 3 months ago

Text

﹙✧﹚ YOURS, FOREVER

ALT ✷ all your life sim jake has been by your side forever. but things start to shift when all of a sudden time gets in between your once inseparable bond ∘ ∘ ∘ more

심재윤 x f!r ― fluff angst comedy && cursing parental neglect kissing ⨯ 10.4k

em's note ★ ermmm first post in a while how are we feeling!? i've had this idea for a LOOOONG time after watching the kdrama, but it can also double as my entry for @okwonyo's 'la fleur' event and it's loosely based off of family by choice the kdrama cause i love it sososo much. hope you all enjoyed <3

YOU REMEMBER MEETING JAKE THAT ONE FATEFUL DAY when you were six years old, watching him move in with his family.

you ran up to him tugging on his arm, jumping up and down grinning ear to ear to finally have someone in your neighborhood your age. someone who wouldn’t baby you (even though you enjoyed the candy they brought you), someone who could just be a friend and just some adult. someone in that isolating small city in california.

jake had blinked at you, wide-eyed and startled, before breaking into a grin that mirrored your own.

"hi," he had said, a little breathless from hauling moving boxes. "you live here?"

"yep!" you had chirped, still bouncing on the balls of your feet. "my dad and i live on the floor below you! that means we’re neighbors forever now, you’re going to be my best friend."

"forever?" jake had echoed, his brows furrowed confused by your excitement, with a hint of unsurety.

“yeah!”

“he doesn’t want to be friends with you, lets go” his mom stated plainly, tugging on his hand, leading him up the steps of their new apartment and home.

you had stood there, watching as jake was pulled away, the excitement still buzzing in your chest despite his mom’s words.

he doesn’t want to be friends with you.

but you knew better.

because when jake had turned back—just before disappearing through the door—he had looked at you, his lips pressing together like he was holding something back.

and then, just before his mom pulled him inside, he had smiled. small, fleeting, but real.

the next day, you found him waiting outside your door, hands stuffed into the pockets of his too-big hoodie.

“hey,” he mumbled, rocking back on his heels.

you blinked. “hi?”

jake hesitated before glancing around, as if checking to make sure no one was watching. then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of chips from his hometown, holding it out to you.

“for you,” he said, not quite meeting your eyes.

your childish heart swelled, and without thinking, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside.

from that moment on, jake had become a constant in your life.

─── ♡

YOU COULD’VE SWORN JAKE LIVED AT YOUR APARTMENT FLOOR MORE THAN HE DID HIS OWN. not that you minded, and not that his mom noticed, too absorbed in blaming him for everything that had gone on in his life. she figured he was off being a model student.

your dad had taken him in as a son after he cried out to him at night many years ago about how his divorced parents were too busy fighting and forgot to pick him up at school. how his mom threatened to leave the house, and blamed it on him, and he heard it through the door while his parents were fighting again about who got to keep him for the weekend. how he was tormented every single day, coming home to a home where his mom gave him an upset and empty stare.

he had set up the spare guest room as a safe place just for him, cooked warm meals, even paid for schooling activities.

at first, jake had been hesitant to accept it. hesitant to accept love in a way that didn’t feel conditional, hesitant to believe that someone would do something for him without expecting perfection in return.

but your dad never asked for anything. never demanded jake to be better, or to prove his worth. he just... let him be. let him exist in a home where he wasn’t walking on eggshells, where he wasn’t a constant disappointment.

your home had soon become his home, and the apartment floor above where his mom lived became just a visiting place whenever he needed a legal guardian signature for some stupid form.

his mom never seemed to like you for some reason, though you wouldn’t let it bother you. your dad always made sure to let you know that not everyone needs to like you. though, her glaring looks at you throughout the years growing up always irked you.

and little by little, jake allowed himself to settle in.

after a while, his mom ended up leaving him in your dad’s care, occasionally sending checks, occasionally coming back from the east coast to “checking in on her only son” before disappearing again.

but a part of him never stopped looking over his shoulder. never stopped waiting for the moment everything would be ripped away again. and when the moment finally came, neither of you were ready for it.

so there you were on the first day of senior year, tugging jake out of his bed with a grin.

"c’mon, you’re gonna be late,” you whined, yanking at the blankets he had wrapped around himself like a human burrito.

jake groaned, burying his face deeper into the pillow. "five more minutes."

"nope, no more minutes, you’re already pushing it." you tugged harder, finally managing to pull the blanket off, revealing his disheveled hair and squinted eyes.

he let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his face before shooting you a glare—one that lacked any real heat. "why are you so chipper this morning?"

you grinned, rocking back on your heels. "because it’s senior year jake. i survived eleven years of this, i’m ready to start a new me and never get pushed around again,"

jake raised a brow at that, finally sitting up. "never get pushed around again? what, are you planning a revolution or something?"

you scoffed, crossing your arms. "no, i just mean i’m done letting people walk all over me. it’s senior year, jake. i refuse to go out being known as the pushover."

he gave you a long look before shaking his head with a small smile. "yeah, sure. just don’t go picking fights you can’t win."

"please," you waved him off. "i don’t pick fights, jake. i just stand up for myself."

but by lunchtime, you were already dangerously close to proving him right.

─── ♡

IT STARTED OUT SIMPLE ENOUGH. just some guy from your history class running his mouth about jake when he wasn’t there to defend himself.

you had passed by the cafeteria when you overheard his name. curiosity had made you pause, but what made you turn around completely was hearing the sneering tone in which it was said.

"he acts like his life's so hard," one of the guys scoffed, shaking his head. "like, you live in the nicest neighborhood here. quit acting like you’re some tragic hero."

another one laughed. "bet he milks that whole oh, i basically live with my friend’s family thing for sympathy points."

your blood boiled. seething with rage. it’s one thing to let people talk shit about you, but about jake was insane to you. jake, the sweetest boy who couldn’t even tattle on a kid who hit him back in elementary school because he was afraid of what would happen to him.

"you don’t know anything about him," you said before you could stop yourself, stepping into their view.

the guys turned, raising their brows at you. "oh? jake’s little guard dog," the first one said, voice dripping with amusement. "should’ve known you’d pop up."

“do not go around talking shit right now about jake,” you turned around, pointing a finger at the one who began. “you don’t know how hard he has it, zip it,”

the second guy scoffed. "please. we all have problems. he just makes his everyone else's."

"he doesn’t—"

"what, you gonna cry about it?" the first guy mocked, stepping closer. "or maybe you’ll go running to him so he can fight your battles?"

by now, a small crowd had started to form, students pausing to watch the scene unfold.

you stood your ground, refusing to back down. "i don’t need anyone to fight my battles."

"then prove it," he challenged, stepping even closer, his tone dropping. "or are you all talk?"

before you could process what was happening, a strong arm suddenly slung over your shoulder, pulling you back slightly.

"man, you guys just love running your mouths, huh?"

your whole body relaxed the moment you recognized the voice.

jake.

he had appeared out of nowhere, his expression calm but his eyes dark with warning.

the guys hesitated, the confidence in their stance faltering just a bit.

"what, cat got your tongue now?" jake said, his voice steady, controlled. but you knew him well enough to hear the sharp edge behind it.

"we were just talking," one of them muttered, suddenly less bold.

jake let out a short, humorless laugh. "yeah? funny how that talking only happens when i’m not around.”

jake turned to you then, his arm still around your shoulder. "what the hell was that?"

"i was just—"

"—picking a fight," he finished for you, raising a brow. "after this morning?"

you huffed. "i wasn’t picking a fight. i was defending you."

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "you don’t have to do that."

"yes, i do," you shot back. "you always have my back, why can’t i have yours?"

jake stared at you for a long moment before his expression softened. with a small squeeze to your shoulder, he muttered, "next time, wait for me to be there first, yeah?"

and somehow, that sat with you longer than it should have.

─── ♡

LATER THAT FALL IS WHEN COLLEGE APPLICATIONS CAME ABOUT. though, this shouldn’t have been as much of a pain in the ass as it was.

you and jake had already talked about it, planned it out months ago—neither of you were going out of state. you’d stay local, find a school that worked for both of you, and that was that. simple. easy. no unnecessary complications.

except the counselors didn’t seem to get the memo.

“you’re seriously not considering any ivy leagues?” mr. davis, jake’s assigned counselor, asked, staring at him like he’d just committed a crime. “with your grades and extracurriculars, you could easily get into any top-tier school.”

you could see the way jake’s jaw tensed, his fingers tapping against his knee. “i’ve already decided where i want to apply.”

mr. davis sighed, leaning back in his chair. “jake, i get that you want to stay close to home, but you have options.”

you sat beside jake, arms crossed, watching as he nodded along to the same speech he’d already heard at least five times this month.

“is this to do with… her? maybe this is just a conversation we should have. i know she’s here for your comfort, but let’s have a conversation with just the two of us,”

jake's fingers stilled against his knee. his jaw tightened, but his expression remained unreadable. you, on the other hand, felt your own irritation spike.

“i’m here because i care about his choices,” you said, your tone sharper than intended. “and we’ve already had this conversation a hundred times. he’s not changing his mind.”

mr. davis gave you a tight-lipped smile before turning back to jake. “jake, i understand loyalty. but college is about your future. you shouldn’t be limiting yourself for anyone else.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but jake beat you to it.

“this isn’t about anyone else.” his voice was calm, firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “this is about me. i know what i want, and i know what makes me happy. i don’t need an ivy league school to prove anything.”

mr. davis sighed, clearly exasperated. “all i ask is that you think about it, at least apply and leave the option open,”

the tension in the room was suffocating, but jake was already heading for the door. you followed without hesitation, not bothering to acknowledge mr. davis as you stepped out.

as soon as you were in the hallway, jake let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair.

“maybe he’s right. just apply, doesn’t mean you have to accept, it can’t hurt right?”

jake shot you a look, his lips pressing into a thin line. "it can hurt," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

you frowned, tilting your head. "how?"

he let out a dry chuckle, leaning against the row of lockers. "because if i apply, you’re gonna be all alone, and you would hate that, i know it."

“besides, you know our college has a med program that’s just fine, and i’ll get a good job and pay your dad back, and make sure he can retire from his restaurant in good condition,” he continued on. you didn’t know what to say. every fiber of you itched for him to stay, but what if you were holding him back despite the teasing in his tone.

you swallowed hard, shifting on your feet. "jake, you don’t owe my dad anything."

he sighed, shaking his head. "i know. but he did so much for me, and i want to make sure he’s taken care of."

your chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. you had no doubt jake meant every word—he’d always been like this, always putting others first, always thinking about everyone but himself.

“but what about you?” you asked softly. “what do you want?”

he hesitated. "i want to stay." his voice was steady, unwavering. "i want to go to school here, be around the people who matter to me. that’s not me settling, it’s me choosing."

you bit your lip, the weight of his words settling over you. you wanted to believe him. really believe him. but there was still that gnawing feeling in your gut—the fear that maybe, just maybe, you were being selfish for letting him.

"jake…"

he bumped his shoulder against yours, a small grin tugging at his lips. "stop thinking so hard. i already made my choice."

you exhaled, forcing yourself to nod. "okay."

"okay?"

"yeah," you said, more certain this time. "okay."

because if jake was sure, then you would be too.

─── ♡

THE END OF THE FIRST QUARTER SOON AROSE, with exams wrapping up in a hurry, in order to get seniors prepared for their college applications.

the hallways were buzzing with stress—students clutching test papers, muttering formulas under their breath, or frantically comparing essay notes. teachers weren’t any better, pushing deadlines and grading late into the night.

you and jake had slipped into a quiet routine, spending late nights at the library, sharing snacks over half-finished personal statements, and quizzing each other on random trivia. despite the chaos, there was a strange comfort in it—something about knowing you weren’t going through it alone.

“i swear if i have to write one more paragraph about my ‘defining moment in life,’ i’m dropping out,” you muttered, pushing your laptop away and slumping onto the table. “i’m sick of writing scholarship essays,”

for a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the buzz of the library filling the space between you. jake tapped his fingers against the table, staring at his own laptop, before speaking.

“i applied,” he said, voice even.

you blinked, caught off guard. “what?”

“to yale,” he clarified, glancing at you. “figured it couldn’t hurt to have something in my back pocket. though, my mom called last night, she asked about college, for once. told me i should apply just to see”, he took a pause to sip from his can of chilled soda. “my mom said she’d be proud to have a son who went there, and i don’t know, maybe i should just apply to see. ”

and with that your heart sank a little bit. not even to hear that he would consider yale, but to hear him still hoping for his mom’s approval even after the many nights he’d spent under her mental torment.

“though realistically, even if i get in, i don’t think that’d even be good enough. state college is still 1000x better than that rich snobby college. it’s you and me forever, don't worry.”

with that you put together whatever coherent thoughts you had appropriate for the situation and stifled out a laugh, “yea, you’re too good for them anyways, this town needs a doctor that’s as wicked smart as you anyways,”

“what’s your plan after college?”

you stretched your arms above your head, leaning back in your chair with a satisfied sigh. “after college? i’m opening a dessert café.”

jake blinked, caught off guard. “just like that?”

“yep,” you said, popping the ‘p.’ “i’ve thought about it for a while, and honestly, it’s perfect for me. no strict deadlines, no corporate misery—just good vibes, good desserts, and a cozy little place for people to escape for a bit.”

he smirked, sipping his soda. “so, you’re really committing to the soft life, huh?”

“obviously,” you shot back. “why stress myself out when i can spend my days baking cute pastries and making people happy?” you leaned forward, eyes gleaming with excitement. “picture it, jakey. chiclighting, comfy seats, shelves lined with little trinkets and plants. the smell of fresh strawberry chiffon in the air. a menu that changes with the seasons—strawberry shortcakes in the spring, spiced apple tarts in the fall. maybe even special limited-edition desserts for holidays.”

jake chuckled, resting his chin on his palm. “you’ve really thought this through.”

“of course i have.” you grinned. “that’s a real surprise that you have anything planned, even better that you remember it,” he smiled.

“hey! i’m getting better.”

jake gave you a flat look. “you called me yesterday because you thought you left your keys at the library, and they were in your bag.”

“okay, well, no one’s perfect.” you crossed your arms, huffing. “besides, that’s what you’re here for. to keep me from falling apart.”

his teasing expression softened just slightly. “yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than anything. “guess i am.”

the weight of his words lingered for a beat, a quiet understanding hanging between you. but before you could dwell on it, jake suddenly stood up, ruffling your hair in the process.

“c’mon, let’s go,” he said, grabbing his bag. “it’s late, and if you pass out from exhaustion, i’m the one who’s gonna have to carry you home.”

you groaned but followed him anyway, falling into step beside him.

“you wouldn’t actually carry me,” you teased.

“guess we’ll never know,”

you shoved his arm lightly, and he shoved you back, a playful push-and-pull that felt like second nature. and as you walked out of the library together, the world outside dark and quiet, you realized that no matter where the future took you both, jake would always be there.

just like he always had been. forever.

─── ♡

WINTER SOON CAME AROUND, with your birthday always being a prominent date marked on the family calendar with a bright neon pink star surrounding the date each year. jake for some reason always seemed to make it a bigger deal, buying you gifts from his hard earned money from his part time, though you weren’t one to say no to birthday gifts.

the three of you gathered around the family dining table with a homemade cake, filled with joy, always being a fond memory growing up.

winter break soon came, and with that, just like the two of you spent it like you did every break.

by day the two of you were inseparable—wandering through the small town, finding whatever new adventure awaited the two of you. by night, jake was buried in his textbooks, meticulously studying for exams, while you sprawled across his bed, scrolling on your phone or sketching rough ideas for your future café.

he never told you to leave, and you never tried to.

it had become routine—jake staying up until ungodly hours, highlighters scattered across his desk, while you dozed off in his bed like it was your own. and every morning, without fail, he would wake you up with a sigh, nudging your shoulder.

"alright, time to go back to your actual room,” he’d say, pulling the blanket off of you.

you’d groan, burying your face into his pillow. “five more minutes.”

"that’s what you said yesterday, now get off my sheets,” jake grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his tone—just the usual exasperation laced with something softer.

eventually, he’d give up and let you sleep for a little longer before finally shoving you out with a mutter, “another day of fun awaits, let’s go.”

winter break always felt like a time capsule—like no matter how much things changed, this part of your life never did. it was comforting, knowing that even as college applications loomed over your heads, even as the future felt like a moving target, you still had this.

but then, almost without warning, the last winter break the two of you would spend ended and school started again. occasional three day weeks were spent with the two of you wasting no time, and when valentines day came around, the two of you began your annual tradition of trading homemade chocolates with each other, because really. who else were you gonna spend stupid holidays like this with?

winter melted into spring, and soon enough, april arrived. college decisions had come out, and the marathon of opening your college acceptance letters in one night was fun. the two of your life long plans to go to the same college and even dorm together were finally coming true.

you still had him.

until suddenly, you didn’t.

the news came in the middle of one of your usual nights. jake was at his desk, flipping through notes, and you were curled up on his bed, doodling in the margins of your café concept notebook when his phone rang.

you barely paid attention at first—he got calls sometimes, usually from his dad, sometimes his older relatives. but this time, his whole body tensed when he saw the caller ID.

his mom.

he hesitated before answering, his voice clipped when he said, “hello?”

you couldn’t hear what she was saying, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. jake’s grip on his pen tightened, his shoulders drawing inward. his responses were short—"okay," "yeah," "I understand"—and you had never seen him look so distant.

when he finally hung up, the silence stretched too long.

"jake?" you sat up, worry creeping into your voice.

he exhaled, staring down at his desk like he was trying to burn a hole through it. “my mom heard that i got into yale and she wants me to move back to east coast, finish high school there. then go to yale,”

the words hung in the air like a slow-building storm.

"what?" you blinked, swinging your legs off the bed. “why—why now?”

jake shook his head, fingers gripping the edge of his desk. "she said it’s time. that i’ve had my fun playing house, but i need to be with my real family now." his voice was tight, bitter, and you knew him well enough to recognize the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

your stomach twisted. "but we are your real family," you said quietly.

he let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "i know."

“when does she want you to move?”

“end of this month.”

you swallowed when you heard no joke in his tone. you waited, hoping, praying to see him burst out into laughter and say “just kidding,” but there was nothing.

silence settled between you, thick and suffocating. the two of you had spent years carving out a life together, one where he wasn’t just a guest, where your dad never made him feel like he owed anything. but to his mom, it had always been temporary.

─── ♡

YOUR DAD HAD COME TO TERMS that he was basically losing his son. you on the other hand? it was like losing your other half. the other half of what made you, you.

the person by your side through all the trouble you had gotten each other in when you were younger, gone in a snap.

jake put on a smile trying to finish off his last days in california with you, but each night shutting you out so you wouldn’t have to see him packing his belongings, because he knew that would hurt you more than it hurt him.

the morning that he left, you weren’t even awake. you had your alarm for 6am sharp, ready to see him off, but he was gone at 5am. this time protecting himself from hurting more so than you.

you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t feel hurt when you didn’t even get to say goodbye that morning. though you knew you would’ve done the same thing. if you had said goodbye that morning, it would’ve made it all too real. more real than he was willing to accept.

the rest of the school year felt numb without jake. of course you had other friends to hang out with, but it was never quite the same. the only thing keeping you sane were the nightly video calls with him that made it feel like he was still an inch closer home. to your home.

the two of you graduated on your own times, facetiming on the day of since you couldn’t fly to see each others. jake cheering the loudest for you through the phone your dad held up, and you cheering for him through the phone held up by whatever new friends he had managed to make in that time.

in the summer, the two of you made plans to meet up, jake could come back for the summer and spend fleeting time with you, but plans abruptly got shut down when his mom signed him up for yale’s incoming freshman program.

the news hit you like a ton of bricks. you had made so many plans for that summer, imagining long days spent catching up, hanging out in your favorite spots, reliving those memories that felt so far away. but suddenly, those plans felt as fragile as paper, ripped apart by the weight of jake’s mom’s decision.

"she's doing it again," you muttered to yourself, the phone pressed tightly to your ear as jake’s voice crackled on the other end.

"i know," he said, his tone weary, like he had expected this would happen, but still couldn't quite accept it. "i didn't even get a say in it. i was looking forward to coming back, but now it’s like... i don’t even have a choice."

the months that followed were a blur. as fall crept in and the school year started, you found yourself caught in the rhythm of classes, assignments, and all the usual chaos. the early mornings and late nights became a routine—until a message from jake would light up your screen, just enough to remind you that he was still out there, still a part of your world, even if it was through a phone screen.

his texts started off strong, even on your birthday during winter, which was the first time you’d heard from him in what felt like weeks.

“happy birthday, yn!! i hope today’s amazing, even though i’m not there to celebrate with you. i’ll make it up to you when i’m back. promise.”

you smiled at the message, feeling a bittersweet warmth settle in your chest. it wasn’t the same as having him there, but it was something. you knew he was still trying, still holding onto the connection you two had. or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

but as days turned into weeks, the calls grew shorter. the messages were spaced further apart. every time you reached out—asking how he was doing, or if he was settling in okay at yale—his replies became more curt, more distant.

you tried not to think about it too much, tried to keep yourself distracted with school and everything else that came with being a senior. but whenever your phone buzzed, you couldn’t help but hold your breath, half-hoping it was him, half-fearing it was just another empty promise.

it hurt. it really did.

you kept texting him, kept hoping that something would change, that he’d realize how much you missed him, how much you needed him to stay just a little bit closer.

“hi jakey it’s been a hot minute hru?”

he replied after a few hours, as usual.

“yeah, just a lot of work. i’ll text you later.”

you stared at the screen, willing your heart to stop aching. it wasn’t that he didn’t care—it was just that... he wasn’t the same person you used to know. or maybe you weren’t the same person either.

you ran your fingers over the screen and typed out another message, then deleted it, not sure how to even begin anymore. you couldn’t keep chasing someone who was already slipping away, but you weren’t ready to let go either.

as the months faded into each other, you realized you had been holding on to something that wasn’t really there anymore, at least not in the way you had imagined. you weren’t ready to admit it to yourself yet, but the truth was starting to settle in.

maybe some things, like people, just weren’t meant to stay forever.

─── ♡

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY, both of you stopped trying. even the ‘family’ groupchat between your dad, jake, and you went silent. every once in a while your dad would text the groupchat with a random facebook meme essentially saying he missed the two of you, with you ‘haha’ing the message and jake not even responding.

as soon as the school year started, it ended. then summer came about and that’s when jake would text bits and pieces about his life on the opposite coast with his new friends.

when you found out your birthday fell during winter break this year, you were ecstatic. for once, both of your breaks aligned perfectly, and it felt like fate giving you one last chance to reclaim what had been slipping away. you had texted the group chat immediately, excitement buzzing through your fingertips.

your dad had been thrilled, already talking about how he couldn’t wait to see jake again, and for the first time in a long time, jake seemed genuinely excited too.

“booking my flight home i promise i’ll be there”

it felt like a weight had lifted. things weren’t the same, but maybe—just maybe—this would be the thing to bring you back together.

but as the weeks crept closer to winter break, something shifted again.

jake started taking longer to reply. the excitement in his messages dulled. and then, a few days before he was supposed to fly back, you got the text.

"i’m so sorry, yn. something came up, and i don’t think i can make it."

when the day came around, with your dad and you at the now empty family dinner table with a white frosted chiffon cake, candles lit, it somehow felt gloomier. you stared at your phone, waiting for even a text. yet after a few minutes, nothing.

you a wave of tears waiting to form, but you promised yourself yourself cry on your special day. your nose stung, and your throat burned. your dad quickly taking notice and keeping the thoughts away by playing his rendition of happy birthday on the guitar he’d been picking up ever since the two of you had left for college.

a year passed. then two. you sent messages here and there—updates about your life, little things you thought he’d still care about. but replies took days, sometimes weeks. eventually, you stopped trying so hard.

by the third year, you realized you didn’t even know what his life looked like anymore. you weren’t sure what his favorite food was now, if he finished his undergrad like you had or when he had free time, if he ever thought about coming home.

by the fourth, you stopped checking if he had seen your messages. by that time you moved back to your small town and opened that dream dessert cafe at the old building unit that used to house the noodle house you and jake used to always go to.

by the fifth, you didn’t text him at all, though it was easy not too when your days were caught up taking care of the business and catering to the younger generations that would come in to take photos with the constantly rotating seasonal menu.

your dad asked about him sometimes, still talked about jake like he was family, like he would come back one day and things would be the same. you just smiled and nodded, but deep down, you knew the truth.

jake wasn’t coming back. not really.

by the sixth year, the memories of him started to blur. you still thought about him sometimes—when you heard a song that reminded you of those summer nights, when you passed by places you used to go together. but it didn’t hurt the way it used to. it was more like remembering a dream you had a long time ago, one that had faded at the edges.

and by the seventh year, you had phased him out completely.

you didn’t hate him. you weren’t even angry anymore. he had simply become a part of your past—someone you used to know, someone who had meant everything to you once.

but that was a long time ago. and you had learned how to live without him.

─── ♡

“CAREFUL WHEN CLOSING OUT TONIGHT, there’s been some shady white lexus that hangs around at this time, call me if anything happens,” your co-manager giselle calls out as she shuts the door behind her.

it was the fifth year of owning your business and you really couldn’t have been any more proud of yourself. things were falling into place for the business, and you were to beat that five year mark for when small businesses go bankrupt.

you smiled hearing her concern and began prepping the cakes and tarts for the next day.

the quiet hum of the fridge and the soft clatter of trays filled the cozy bakery as you worked, hands moving on autopilot as you piped delicate swirls of frosting onto a batch of cupcakes. the scent of vanilla and caramelized sugar lingered in the air, comforting in a way that reminded you why you had built this place from the ground up.

five years. it still didn’t feel real sometimes.

you had spent so many sleepless nights wondering if you’d make it this far, worrying over finances, suppliers, and keeping up with customer demand. but here you were, not just surviving—thriving.

the quiet of the shop was peaceful, but giselle’s warning echoed in the back of your mind.

a white lexus. hanging around.

you weren’t the type to get easily paranoid, but something about it left a strange feeling in your gut. shaking it off, you turned your focus back to the tray in front of you, finishing up the last batch before stepping back and stretching out your arms.

just as you were about to wipe down the counter, the soft chime of the front door startled you.

you glanced up at the clock—11:15 p.m.

too late for customers.

your heart picked up speed as you reached for the rolling pin beside you, gripping it tightly as footsteps echoed through the shop.

"we’re closed," you called out, keeping your voice steady, though your fingers curled a little tighter around the wooden handle.

the footsteps paused. then, a voice you hadn’t heard in years filled the space.

"yn?"

your breath hitched.

there, standing under the dim glow of the bakery lights, was jake.

older, different, yet somehow still the same.

he looked like a stranger in familiar skin. his hair was slightly longer than you remembered, and he carried himself differently—more put together, but with an air of hesitation, like he wasn’t sure if he belonged here anymore.

his suit, unbuttoned once from the top, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, gave him a polished yet tired look, like he had come straight from a long day of work. but what unsettled you the most was the way his eyes softened when they met yours—like he had been searching for you all this time.

he took a step forward.

“do not take another step closer.”

your voice came out sharper than you intended, laced with a warning that made him halt immediately.

jake’s brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “yn, I just—”

“if you take another step, I’ll file a police report for harassment and stalking. giselle told me about that white lexus and i swear to god if that’s yours i’ll actually just go ahead and file it.”

to say that your dad was very shocked and concerned to be called to the police station by you to watch you attempt to file a police report on the boy he’d once called son was beyond an understatement.

eventually he managed to talk you out of it by bribing you with your favorite homemade meals and a promise to at least hear jake out before making any final decisions.

begrudgingly, you let it go—for now. but that didn’t mean you were going to make it easy for him.

─── ♡

THE WEEK AFTER, YOUR PHONE BUZZED AND YOU picked it up to be met with disappointment.

“i got ur new number from dad, can i come pick you up after your work with dinner? what time do you close at?” the text rang in. you showed it to giselle with a groan,

you showed it to giselle with a groan, setting your phone down on the counter as you wiped your hands on your apron. she glanced at the message, raising an eyebrow as she sipped her coffee.

“that’s… bold,” she said with a half-smirk. “you’ve got to be kidding me. after everything?”

“i really don’t know what he wants now,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “i should just ignore it, right?”

giselle hesitated before speaking. “i mean… it’s up to you. but i’ll say this—he’s not the same person who left all those years ago. he looks different, talks different. maybe this is his way of trying to make things right. i don’t know.”

“gigi it’s been 7 years. who actually chooses to disappear and reappear after 7 years?” you sigh taking a sip from your hard worked iced apple tea.

“apparently sim jake that’s who. i heard he’s a doctor doing his residency and the hospital nearby. yunjin texted me saying theres a new cutie who transferred into her team,” she hummed pulling up her phone showing a screenshot of jake’s instagram.

“go figure, of course he’s finishing out his dream of being a doctor,” you absentmindedly mumble as you look through his instagram feed from giselle’s phone. and if there’s one thing to take away when looking at it, is that he’s been having one hell of a lot of fun in the years where he never reached out to you.

you stared at his instagram feed, feeling an odd mix of frustration and sadness. his life had clearly moved on in the way he always wanted, but it was like he’d completely forgotten about the part of him that once belonged to you.

you leaned back against the counter, not knowing how to respond. you felt like you had to answer jake's message. you weren’t the same person who would’ve waited around years ago, but still, that old familiarity tugged at you. "i guess i’ll meet him, but definitely not today," you said quietly, more as an attempt to make sense of things than a decision to rekindle anything.

“i close at 7, don’t wait on me”

throughout the day, meeting back up with jake was all that lingered on your mind. meeting up with him after all this time is crazy. it’s been 7 years of him barely contacting you and all of a sudden he wants back in?

after you had closed up shop, you began getting ready for the new day ahead, whipping up the batter for a new set of fresh cakes, preparing fillings, and testing out new drinks recipes.

by the time you finished preparing everything for tomorrow’s orders, the sky outside had grown darker, and you were about to head home for the night. you locked up the bakery and stepped outside into the crisp night air, breathing it in like it might clear your mind.

as you turned the corner, your heart skipped a beat. there, just a few steps away from the entrance, was jake. sitting on the cold concrete outside your bakery. but what struck you most was that he wasn’t just sitting—he was asleep, hunched over with his head resting on his knees, his body curled up against the chill of the night.

your steps faltered, your breath catching in your throat. you didn’t know what to think. part of you felt an irrational rush of concern, but another part of you wanted to shake him awake and ask what the hell he thought he was doing.

you walked closer, your feet moving on their own. when you stopped just a foot away from him, you let out a soft breath, too startled to speak.

jake stirred slightly, his head lifting for a moment before he blinked up at you, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

"jake? what the hell are you doing out here in the cold?" you asked, your voice coming out more accusatory than anything. you hadn’t expected to see him like this. you hadn’t expected anything from him, really.

he yawned sleepily, “i thought you said you closed at 7?”

“yeah and then i have to prepare stuff for the next day, i told you not to wait for me,” you said sternly, though at this point it was pure concern that he had been out in the cold with a box of food beside him.

“oh, well i’m here now,” he smiled, with sleep in his eyes, just grateful to be seeing you.

“come inside,” you finally said, voice quieter. “it’s freezing out here.”

the two of you sat in silence at two of the chairs you pulled out. you could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, as you set the chairs down, motioning for jake to sit across from you.

“you really didn’t have to wait out there,” you said quietly, unable to keep the frustration from your voice. “i mean, it’s been so long, and you just show up like nothing happened?”

jake shifted in his seat, and he let out a long sigh. “i know,” he started, his voice heavy. “i didn’t think this through, okay? but i... i couldn’t leave without talking to you. i thought if i came here, if i just showed up, maybe i’d have a chance to explain. to make things right.”

“so what now?” you asked, your voice quieter than before, the sharp edge of anger softening a little. “you just expect me to open up and let you back in? like nothing ever happened? jake, i moved on and got a life, the one i always wanted back when we were in high school just this time it’s without you.”

jake shook his head quickly. “no. i don’t expect that at all. i don’t expect you to just forget everything and pretend like things are fine. but i want to try. i want to show you that i’m not the coward that ran away and prioritized my mom over you.”

you stared at him, torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to hear more. you hadn’t realized how much of your anger had been a shield to protect yourself from the hurt. the hurt of losing someone you thought you’d never have to lose.

“i don’t know what you want from me,” you muttered, your hands tightening around your cup of coffee. “you disappeared without a word for years, jake. that’s not something you just get to erase with some apology. i’m not sure i can just forgive you that easily.”

jake nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “i don’t want you to forgive me easily. i know it’s not that simple. but i’m here, and i want to prove to you that i’m not going anywhere this time.”

the silence stretched between you two, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. you both just sat there, the past years of hurt and confusion hanging heavy in the air. but despite the weight of it all, there was something oddly comforting about having him here, even if just for a moment.

“you’re gonna have to earn the forgiveness back you know that right?”

jake looked down, nodding solemnly. "i know. i’m not asking for it to happen right away, or even for it to happen easily. i just... i want to show you that i can be someone you can trust again. that i'm here, for the long haul, this time."

you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you observed him closely. "trust is earned, jake. not given just because you show up one night after disappearing for seven years. you can’t just expect things to go back to the way they were."

“i swear, i have my shit sorted, im back for good. im not gonna leave again. i swear.”

─── ♡

JAKE WAS SEEMINGLY MORE COMMITTED TO PROVING IT THAN EVER FOR SOME REASON. jake, the typically patient man, hell he went through years of schooling and is still in it to become a doctor, was on the edge of his seat. itching to find time to make it up to you.

jake knew he couldn’t rush this. he couldn’t just show up and expect everything to be okay, like the years of silence didn’t matter. he knew it mattered. and it wasn’t just about the hurt—he had spent the last seven years replaying the mistakes he’d made, wondering if he could’ve been better, if he could’ve done more. what gnawed at him the most was how much he had missed out on—how much he still felt for you.

he had always liked you. always. but back then, he was young, impulsive, and reckless. he had his dreams, his priorities. and at the time, he chose his mom’s expectations over the one person who had always been there for him—you. he realized now how selfish that was, how blind he’d been to the feelings he had for you, to the connection that had been right in front of him.

now, though, he wasn’t going to make that same mistake again. he was older, more aware of the weight of things. he wanted to do it the right way this time, take it slow, show you that he could be the person you needed, not just the person who had hurt you.

it was a rainy evening when jake showed up again. he had just finished a long shift at the hospital, his scrubs wrinkled, his eyes tired. he had been trying to sneak in an hour or two of sleep whenever he could, but it was always on the backburner. he didn’t care about sleep anymore. not when there was a chance to make things right.

he had something for you this time, something different.

"hey," he greeted, standing just outside the bakery as you worked behind the counter. "sorry I’m late... busy day."

you didn’t look up immediately, still focused on the dough in front of you. “it’s fine,” you said, your voice distracted but not cold.

jake smiled to himself. the small talk was almost comforting. "actually, i have something for you," he said, stepping into the shop and placing a small bouquet of flowers with a torn out notebook page tied to it.

you eagerly untied the note to see what was inside, and as you unfolded the torn page, you felt a rush of nostalgia hit you. it was a told out page, the edges faded and crinkled yet the picture in the center an old drawing from when you first became friends, with text on the bottom reading ‘yn and jake bffs forever.’

you paused, your heart catching in your chest as your fingers traced the faded lines of the drawing. the memory of that day—of the two of you sitting in the corner of a school cafeteria, laughing and drawing together, sharing secrets and dreams for the future—came rushing back.

“you kept this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at jake, trying to process it all.

he shifted uncomfortably, his eyes tired but soft. “yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “i guess I thought it was important. i didn't really know what to do with it... but i wanted to bring it to you. remind you of who we were before everything got complicated.”

"why now?" you asked softly, your gaze lifting to meet his. "after all this time?"

jake shifted again, his fingers tracing the seam of his scrub jacket. there was a quiet hesitation in his eyes, like he was choosing his words carefully, or maybe deciding how much of the truth he should let slip. “because it was always there. i’ve just... been too stubborn to see it until now.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. it wasn’t a full answer, but there was something in his tone—something more than regret—that made your chest tighten. a part of you wanted to call him out for waiting so long, but another part of you—one you hadn’t expected to resurface—was just glad he was here now.

as much as you wanted to be upset at him, yell at him, continue telling you off, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset any longer. at your core, all you wanted was the jake you had known forever, returned back to you.

you let the thought hang there, not quite sure what to do with it. instead, you reached for the bouquet he had brought, lifting it slightly as if to change the subject. "these are nice. thank you."

jake’s smile softened, and he shrugged, though there was a spark of something more in his eyes. "it's nothing. just... thought you'd like them."

you nodded, the conversation drifting into an easy, comfortable lull. but there was a change in the air now—something tentative, something that neither of you was fully ready to acknowledge yet. the space between you was different, as if a new kind of understanding had started to form, and neither of you was quite sure what it would look like in the end.

you glanced at him, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether to smile or look away, but you couldn’t help the soft pull of something—maybe hope, maybe curiosity—lingering in your chest.

─── ♡

IT ALMOST FELT NORMAL the way the two of you went back to being stuck at the hip. not in the way you had been before, when everything was simple and effortless, but in a new, tentative way. like you were both testing the waters, unsure of where the boundary lines were anymore, but unwilling to let go of the comfort that came with having each other around.

oftentimes jake would drive to visit during his lunch hours even if it meant for 5 minutes.

you found yourself, surprisingly, looking forward to his visits, even when they came after long, exhausting days. sometimes, you’d catch him just watching you while you worked, a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite decipher but didn’t mind. he didn’t rush to fill every pause with words. instead, he seemed content to sit beside you, a quiet presence.

and as much as you tried to avoid it, you couldn’t deny the way your chest seemed to tighten whenever he glanced at you that little bit longer, or how your thoughts would wander to him long after he left, even when you tried to focus on other things.

"you know," jake said one evening, his voice breaking through the comfortable silence, "i was thinking about that one cake design you drew when we were kids. the one with the little animals? you said you were going to make it someday. for your bakery."

you paused mid-icing a cake, your hands stilling at the memory. it had been a simple sketch—a tiny bear holding a cake on its back, with frosting and sprinkles that looked more like magic than reality. "yeah, I remember that," you replied, your voice soft. "I always thought it would be cute to make a little collection of those—cakes inspired by childhood drawings."

jake smiled, leaning back in his chair. "well, you’ve got one customer here. whenever you get around to it."

one afternoon, as you wiped your hands on your apron, you noticed jake standing by the counter, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. there was something different in the way he looked at you today. maybe it was the way his eyes lingered just a little longer or how he seemed more relaxed than usual, despite the chaos of his busy day.

"you're looking more tired than usual," you commented as he set his coffee down, wiping his hands on his pants. "when’s the last time you actually rested?"

he gave a tired chuckle. "a few days ago. but, you know, sleep doesn't exactly fit into a doctor's schedule."

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "maybe you should make it fit, for your own sanity."

jake shrugged, but his eyes softened. "yeah, yeah. I’ll get around to it. but honestly, I’d rather be here."

the words caught you off guard. you glanced up at him, trying to gauge whether he was being serious, or if it was just the exhaustion talking.

"here?" you asked, a little surprised. "you're a little crazy if you'd rather be here than... well, anywhere else. you're a doctor now, jake. you've got a lot on your plate."

he met your gaze steadily. "i know. and I'm not complaining about it. but being here, with you, even for a few minutes, makes it all a little easier."

"well, I appreciate the visit," you said, breaking the silence, the familiar comfort of your banter returning. "but I still think you need some sleep."

he laughed softly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "i'll sleep when I can. but for now, I'm good. besides," he paused, as if deciding whether to say the next part, iI'm just glad we’re talking again."

there was something in his voice—something unspoken but deeply felt—that made you pause. it wasn’t the usual playful tone jake had when he teased or joked around. it was more sincere, more serious. and for a second, the line between friendship and something else felt thinner, more fragile than ever.

you gave him a small smile, a little unsure of how to respond, but grateful for the quiet honesty between you. "me too," you said softly.

─── ♡

IT HAD BEEN A FEW DAYS SINCE YOU LAST SAW JAKE. he hadn’t visited as often, and every time you sent him a message to check in, he would always respond with a quick "busy at the hospital" or "swamped with work." you didn’t think much of it at first—he was, after all, a doctor, and you knew how demanding his job could be. but when his responses started getting shorter, and you noticed he didn’t show up during his lunch break like he normally did, something in your gut told you that something was wrong.

you hoped the same thing wouldn’t be happening once over again, praying that he didn’t just up and leave like he did before.

it wasn’t until your dad texted in the group chat that you pieced it together.

“siri text jake only, i’m coming over with soup jake.”

you stared at your phone, rereading the message a couple of times. something felt off. jake hadn’t mentioned anything about being sick, and you hadn’t heard from him in days—not even a quick visit during his lunch break like usual. a creeping sense of concern twisted in your stomach.

why didn’t he want to tell you that he was sick?

you rushed over to his apartment which you had only seen once after he moved in, hesitant to visit after everything had happened in the past.

you unlocked the door with the spare key he gave you, telling you to come visit whenever, even if he wasn’t home, and took a deep breath before swinging the door open.

“jake?” you called out, flicking the light on from the switch in the doorway.

from the living room, you heard a soft groan, and there he was, sprawled out on the couch, covered in blankets, looking like he hadn’t moved in hours. his face was pale, and there was a noticeable flush on his cheeks, evidence of the fever that had kept him away.

"you’re not supposed to be here," jake muttered, his voice hoarse, barely louder than a whisper. he tried to sit up but winced, his body clearly protesting the effort.

you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself, shaking your head as you made your way to the couch. "well, tough luck," you said, sitting next to him, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. "you’re stuck with me now."

his eyes softened, and he let out a quiet chuckle, though it quickly turned into a cough.

"you’re such a pain," you teased gently, settling under the blankets next to him, your shoulder brushing his.

jake glanced over at you, the edges of his lips twitching as he let out a slow breath. "i didn’t want you to see me like this," he confessed, his voice quieter now. "didn’t want you to think i was weak."

you smiled softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "i’m not going anywhere, jake," you whispered.

“sorry i didn’t tell you im sick,” he mumbled, his voice low and tired. "i didn’t want you to worry, and i thought it’d pass. but guess i was just avoiding all the things i should’ve said."

you frowned slightly, shifting so you could look up at him more clearly. "jake, you don’t have to hide things from me, especially not something like this. you’re not alone. not anymore."

his eyes met yours, and in that moment, there was a quiet understanding between the two of you. the kind of understanding that came from years of friendship, of shared silence and unspoken words.

"i know," he said softly, squeezing your hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "i’m just… i’m still figuring things out, you know? everything’s different now, and i’m scared of messing it up again. scared of losing you, yn."

you tilted your head, considering his words for a moment. "you’re not going to lose me," you replied, your voice gentle but firm. "so no more running anymore okay? not because of your mom or being sick or whatever okay?"

he nodded, swallowing hard, his eyes never leaving yours. "i’m not going anywhere this time," he promised, his voice a little stronger now, though still hoarse. "i’m staying right here with you, through all of it."

there was a moment of quiet, where all the noise of the world outside seemed to fade into nothing. just the two of you, tangled up in blankets, close enough to feel each other’s heartbeats.

you smiled softly, a warmth spreading in your chest. "promise?"

“i promise i’m yours, forever,”

─── ♡

TO SAY YOUR DAD WAS SHOCKED WHEN HE WALKED IN holding a container of his soup in a takeout bag to see the two of you cuddled up on the couch was an understatement.

you both heard the door open, and jake immediately tensed, his eyes darting toward the hallway where your dad stood, frozen in the doorway.

"uh…" your dad started, blinking rapidly, clearly unsure of what to make of the situation. "this is… a surprise."

you quickly sat up, pushing the blanket off you as you tried to keep things from getting too awkward. "dad, it’s not what you think—"

"no need to explain," your dad interrupted, raising a hand in mock surrender, his face breaking into a grin. "i just brought some soup. figured i’d drop it off since jake's feeling under the weather."

"you’re not mad?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

your dad chuckled softly, walking over to the coffee table and setting the soup down. "mad? no, i’m not mad. just surprised, that’s all." he shot a glance at jake, who was sitting up straighter, looking mildly embarrassed. "honestly, i’m just glad to see you two working things out."

you gave your dad a wide-eyed look. "working things out?"

he shrugged, unbothered. "it’s been obvious for a while, you know. you two have always been like this, just needed to figure it out on your own." he smiled and shut the door behind him allowing the two of you your space.

over the next weeks things between you and jake felt effortless again, but in the best way. it was like a quiet understanding settled between you two—like you had both stepped back into your rhythm, only this time, there was something more to it.

it was a saturday morning when he showed up at your cafe, a little earlier than usual, with a grin plastered across his face.

"morning, pretty girl," he said as he leaned against the counter, eyes soft and playful as he watched you work.

you rolled your eyes at the nickname, but your lips curled into a smile anyway. "you’re here early. don’t tell me you’re getting sick again."

"nah," jake replied, shaking his head as he leaned in closer stealing a quick kiss from you across the counter. "just wanted to see my angel before the day gets crazy. plus, i thought you could benefit from seeing me,” he smirked with confidence.

it was a simple moment, one that felt like it belonged to the two of you alone. the noise of the cafe around you seemed to fade, leaving only the warmth of the moment, the quiet understanding between you two that you had found something real and lasting.

as the day went on, the customers came and went, but you and jake were content just to be near each other. every glance, every word, every touch was a reminder of how far you had come—together, at your own pace, but now, with no hesitation in sight.

every second with him was a lingering reminder that he was yours, forever.

307 notes · View notes

yourgothiccqueen · 1 year ago

Text

LN4 - “Formula One Sucks”

Summary: A grumpy reader meets her match.

Parings : Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: none except swearing - fluff and silliness!

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Masterlist

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I think just don’t give a shit about it!”

“That’s because you’re a boring cow!”

Y/N sat crossed legged on the grass outside her tent, sun beating down on her face as she half heartedly sipped on a capri sun. Spending the night lying on the floor had left her aching and exhausted, and she feared spending the day watching ‘cars go round in circles’ would truly tip her over the edge.

“I just don’t get why I had to come.” Y/N groaned. “You know loads of other people.”

“None of whom were free at short notice on a Sunday!” Y/N’s friend Annie exclaimed.

Y/N groaned dramatically. She was already hating the fact that she was going to be spending the day trying to shelter from the heat whilst pushing her way through crowds of obsessive fans.

“It’s the three things I hate the most - cars, people and outside.”

“Oh shush, you had to come because you’re such a joyous, positive influence in my life who I knew would jump at the opportunity!” Annie said, sarcastically. “Now stop being so bloody miserable.”

Y/N scowled and playfully swatted Annie on the leg.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“I know. Now drink your capri sun and cheer the fuck up.”

—————————————————————-

By 12pm Y/N had not, in fact, cheered the fuck up. She was truly finished with the world of formula one. So far she had queued for the loo, listened to some very loud music and spent an extortionate amount of money on a relatively small (and cold) hot dog.

Annie had long disappeared, claiming to have spotted some guy called ‘Fernando’ before rushing off into the crowd with a squeal, promising to meet Y/N at their seats later on.

It was beginning to get all too much for little Y/N L/N (😉) as she made her way throughout the bustle of people, eager to finally find someplace quiet to eat.

Eventually she found herself going through a set of doors (which definitely did not say staff only) as she found herself a quiet corner.

“Perfect.”

Before she could even take a bite, she heard a cough from behind her.

“Ermmm, what are you doing?”

Turning around, Y/N found herself faced with a relatively young man, wearing an orange cap with curls of brown peeking out the bottom. He looked strangely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it, and quite frankly she was too hangry to care.

“I’m eating my hot dog.”

The man smirked and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Y/N shrugged and said “ask stupid questions, get stupid answers” before taking a bite.

The man raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the passive aggressive woman in front of him, who seemingly didn’t know who he was.

“Are you here for the race? Or do you work here?” He questioned.

“I’m here for the race. Are you?”

The curly haired man smirked slightly, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”

Y/N crammed another bite of hot dog into her mouth “Well, enjoy. It’s all a load of crap if you ask me though.”

A look of intrigue on his face, he asked “what makes you say that?”

“It’s just boring!” Y/N exclaimed. “Car goes zoom, someone wins, hurrah - so bloody what?! What’s the point?”

The man looked back at her, a look of mild bewilderment and irration written across his face.

“Well yeah, the car is one aspect of it, sure. But it’s the drivers that bring that passion, that excitement every week. They’re the ones who shake things up and keep things fresh. They’re the ones who make it worth watching.” The man let out a small cough. “I mean, that’s my opinion anyway.”

“Hmm. So which driver should I look out for today then?” Y/N queried.

The curly haired man shot her a questionable look.

“Don’t you know the names of any of the drivers?”

Y/N shrugged “I know Lewis Hamilton.”

He let out a laugh and another smirk again “well, that’s a start I suppose.”

Y/N was getting sick of this man smirking at her. But then again, it was a very nice smirk. And he did seem like a very nice man.

“So, what are you doing here if you hate formula one?” The man queried, arms folded against his chest.

“My friend’s a big fan, and her boyfriend who was was meant to be coming has got the flu.” Y/N sighed. “As much as I hate being here, I’d feel even shitter if she came on her own.”

The man let out a small smile “Well, that’s nice of you to do that for your friend.”

He suddenly glanced down at Y/N’s lips, and appeared to take a step closer.

Was this mysterious, attractive stranger about to kiss her?

His thumb reached up to her chin and she couldn’t help but look up into his eyes.

God he had beautiful eyes.

She felt his thumb touch her skin with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes fluttered shut.

He smelt *heavenly*. What aftershave was he wearing?

“Sorry, you had some ketchup on your chin.” He let out a soft giggle.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she felt herself return to reality.

“Oh!”

The mystery man let out a giggle as his thumb brushed against her chin - “all gone.”

She laughed. “Thank you. It’s not everyday a stranger wipes ketchup off your face. Did we just get to second base?”

The man let out a laugh (it’s a very nice laugh).

“Sure. I’ll count it if you do.”

An urgent shout sounded from a door behind them.

“I’ve got to go. It was nice chatting to you though.” The man stated. “And to answer your question, look out for Lando Norris today. I’ve heard he’s one to watch!”

“Will do.” Y/N called, still slightly stunned from the interaction.

A few moments passed before a security clad gentlemen rounded the corner.

“Oi, you shouldn’t be back here! Get back out the front!”

“Relax - I’ve finished my hot dog, I’m going!”

———————————————————

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as Y/N sat close to Annie, eyes fixated on a certain McLaren as he reached his final lap of the race.

“And Lando Norris has finished in P2!”

Cheers erupted from around Y/N and she found herself joining it. Turned out that ‘cars, and people and outside’ could be pretty exciting - who knew?!

“Fuck yeah!” Annie shouted, jumping up and down.

The McLaren driver removed his helmet before waving up to the crowds, a grin plastered on his face.

Y/N’s own grin left her face.

“Oh shit. That’s the guy I met earlier!”

“What?” Annie exclaimed. “You met Lando Norris?”

“Yes! Is he a big deal?” Y/N stated, panic rising.

Annie glanced around them, signalling to the cheering crowds - “Duh! What did you say to him?”

Y/N gulped - “I shoved a hot dog in my mouth and told him formula one is crap.”

Annie stared. No words left her mouth.

Y/N could feel her face turning red. “I then proceeded to ask him if he was going to the race.”

A quick, sharp laugh left Annie’s mouth, before she fell into floods of hysterics.

“Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!”

Y/N could feel herself cringing.

“Oh god, I don’t know! Lots apparently!”

She glanced down to Lando again, to find him smirking up at her. He winked, before turning back towards his team.

“Oh my god, I’m never going outside again.” Y/N cringed. “This is all your fault!”

“My fault?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t tell an F1 driver that his sport is crap!”

Before Y/N could respond, she felt a tap on her shoulder. A uniformed worker pressed a piece of paper into her hand.

“I’ve been asked to give this to you.” The woman smiled, before walking away.

“What is it?” Annie questioned, eyeing the paper.

Y/N unwrapped it, finding quickly scrawled words,

Hello Grumpy,

I hope the race was enough to change your mind about formula one. Here’s my number if you ever fancy a hot dog or a debate over ‘cars going zoom’.

LN xx

“What. The. Fuck.” Annie’s eyes widened.

Y/N grinned.

“Maybe I do like F1 after all!”

#lando norris #landonorris #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando Norris x reader #lando norris one shot #lando Norris oneshot #lando Norris imagine #lando Norris fanfic #FYP #lando Norris x female reader #f1 imagine #lando Norris x you #f1 smut #lando Norris fluff

1K notes · View notes

autism-corner · 18 days ago

Text

omg no waaay

hes done it again

#me doing it again: making space where there quite literally is none btw.#this time ft. lukarin display YIPPEEEE. newest items are the sitting ones. proudest items atm are the hexoganol-base cutiess #ok so yesterday i said id figured out where to put sitting luka and. ig i lied :3c #i saw an oppertunity to make space for sitting rin by moving nendo petit miku to the bottom leftt!! aka i haad to put luka in here aswelll #she replaced my sitting flower miku who has rightfully reclaimed her spot on the top of my shelf looking out the window =w=bbb #^-^bbbb #now comes my bigger challenge.... making space in my 2b spot.......#which. will be hard :3c #i already struggled to place her popup last time and had to settle for having its base at an angle ontop of anotherr =3=#and now.... ermmmm this may or may not be the second biggest 2b i have ERMMM #i didnt think shed be this biiiigggg.......#ermermerm.....#ill figure it out... surely.....#i already have her nendoll at my desk soo that means its saved space. right. right. right.#i feel like i could do it if i had some risers or whatevs. but i dont =w=bbb #see the curse of 2b is aside from her stupid bigass bases she has huge fucking sword aswell. reaaaly impractical. but also teeheee i luv he #i cooould use boxes like i do for other stuff already BUT. for that to actually save space theyd have to be open etc. so i can put stuff in #but alas..... whateber #ill work it out =w=bb surellyy #ooh maybe i could move my wife-holder ig... but hes placed so niceys already... and is only a small flexible spot ig. naahh #=w=bb TOUYS. big win!!!

5 notes · View notes

xoxochb · 2 months ago

Text

percy jackson m.list part five ୨୧ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

♪ ༘⋆ he’s so pretty when he goes down on me

blurbs ✧˖°

. bookshelves

. cowboy! percy takes a page from nash hawthorne’s book…

. lyhfabc guy… anddd percy thinks he looks sexy covered in flour

. paper cuts

. neptune and back

. unicorn! percy and fairy! sweet girl

. cotton candy ice cream

. percy has personal beef with aaron warner

. knight! percy and princess! reader

. in every universe

. this bitch

. bandaids… and shit and percy likes when you talk mean to him

. this bitch sleeps with four blankets he’s nuts!!

. shower debate

. ermmm

. honestly I can’t think of title names anymore 💔

. my silly shayla .

. possibly your daughter had a biting problem

. he’s so but he’s so hfjeksbdidnbs

. bath time

. untitled

. knight! percy and princess! reader

. you’re replaced by penny the dog

. baby

. rocks and baths

. he’s really fucking horny someone help him

. I literally have no tiles for these anymore

. whatever ariana grande said about kitchens in positions

. he quotes the notebook and aaron warner

. chat on the fire escape

. hands off rule

. riddles

. ice cream + s’more’s + the rain

. shower

. koi fish

. 🎶 it’s so sweetttttt knowing that you love me 🎶

. pop rocks

. post shower

. lemonade

. you try to bake cookies

. sweet girl buys books

. beach part one

. fashion show

. he reads your book

. percy being percy

. baths

. he’s kind of a loser who makes you pee with him

. book summary

. ermmm

. by the beach

. maybe possibly sweet girl is in love with him…

. wedding planning

. he licks you… he cuddles you…

. books

. the visions… he isn’t seeing it

. first meeting

. beach

. lego flower shop

. random stuff idk man

. strawberries

. I don’t know actually

. reader likes to be laid on

. three hours post birth

misc ✧˖°

. post sex thoughts

. girl dad! percy

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo #percy jackson smut #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #riordanverse #riordan universe #riordanverse x reader

124 notes · View notes

todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 2 years ago

Text

"i wanna Be Cool, but only if you want me to."

"want to impress you"

synopsis// everyone knows that basketball is the way to someone's heart.

pairing// satoru gojo x gn!reader

word count// 3.8k

contents// college au, basketball au, mutual unknown pining?, friends to lovers?, gojo is a loser, obligatory this is for you and misses

notes// lu wanted a basketball au so lu gets a basketball au. also obviously inspired by the basketball scene in jjk s2 anywho this is just kinda short n goofy :p also inspired by the song i wanna be cool by super whatevr. also i have no idea how basketball works and only ever played for fun so ermmm if anything is wrong bring that up with the universe !

Shoko unwillingly finds herself sitting on a random bench in the boys locker room, her arms crossed as she glares at the two boys in front of her.

“Why did you guys drag me in here?”

Geto speaks up first: “In my defense, this is all on Satoru, and I have no part in this.”

“You still dragged me in here, did you not?”

“…Yes.”

“Then you took part in it.”

Gojo smiles as he smacks Geto on the back. “Exactly! You’re my accomplice.”

Shoko rolls her eyes. “Again, why did you guys drag me in here?”

“A presentation!”

“A presentation I have nothing to do with,” Geto chimes in as he takes a seat beside Shoko.

She briefly raises her eyebrow at Geto before directing it toward Gojo. “A presentation?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t see a projector or anything worth presenting here,” she says, looking around the room unamused.

“A presentation minus the actual presenting part...”

“So you dragged me in here just to talk to me?”

Geto leans in and whispers, “He actually wants to ask you something.”

Gojo stomps his foot like he’s about to throw a tantrum. “Geto shut up!”

“Can you just hurry up, Gojo?" She asks impatiently. “It reeks of axe body spray in here; I think it might actually kill me.”

He ignores her dramatics because, honestly, she’s not wrong. “You're coming to our game tonight, right?”

“I mean, yeah? Who isn't? It's the biggest game of the season.”

Geto adds, “That's what I said!”

“Do you know if Y/N is going?”

“Is that what you seriously dragged me in here for? Why didn't you just ask Y/N themself? You guys are friends, are you not?”

“Well yeah!” Gojo mumbles sheepishly, “But when I asked, they said maybe...”

“That means no,” Geto says quickly through a cough, as if trying to cover it up.

Gojo hears anyway and outstretches his arms toward Geto as if trying to draw attention toward him. “Exactly!” He then brings his hands in front of his face in a praying motion and begs, “Shoko, please!”

“Oh my fucking god, I don't know why you don't just ask them out already.”

“That's what I'm trying to do! But in order to do that, I kinda need them to go to tonight's game.”

Shoko glares at Gojo for what feels like forever, and Gojo glares back like they’ve suddenly entered a staring contest, and it’s Shoko who breaks eye contact first.

She sighs and pushes the hair out of her face as she mumbles, “God, you're lucky I'm tired of both of you pining after each other.”

“Thank you, Shoko!” he beams. “Also here.”

Shoko takes whatever Gojo is handing her and holds it up, her eyes slightly wide as she inspects it. “…Is this your jersey?”

He nods, fully confident within himself now that Shoko has agreed to drag you to the game, but tilts his head at her because he has no idea why she’s confused. “Yeah, I want them to wear it?”

“You make me sick to my stomach, fine.”

“Shoko, do you wanna wear my jersey?” Geto suddenly asks.

She stares at him blankly, as if to ask if he really asked her that, knowing damn well she does not like him like that and she has a girlfriend, though after a few moments he finally gets the hint.

“Oh my god, not like that; I just want someone supporting me too.”

She sighs in relief, “Oh, thank god, don’t scare me like that, but yeah, fine, I’ll wear it.”

“Wait, what the hell?” Gojo exclaims, drawing Shoko’s and Geto’s attention back to him. “Shoko, would you have worn mine if I asked?”

“No.”

“What?! Why the hell not?”

“I like Geto more than I like you.”

He glares at her and quickly points out, “You're lying; if that was true, you wouldn't be helping me!”

Shoko simply shrugs and mumbles a small “bye” before getting up and leaving.

Geto stands up and takes his place next to Gojo, softly patting his back as he whispers, “Dare I say this ends our lifelong debate on who's superior?”

Gojo shrugs his hand off of him and speaks harshly through clenched teeth, “Shut. Your. Mouth.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

“Why would I want to go watch a bunch of sweaty men fight over balls?” You mumble offhandedly, focusing your attention on netflix playing on your phone rather than on her.

“Ok, Y/N, first of all, there's only one ball, and second of all, did you forget Gojo is on the basketball team?”

You quickly turn off your phone and sit up, clasping your hands together in your lap. “….Have I ever mentioned that basketball is actually my favorite sport?”

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters under her breath, pinching her nose bridge. “You're so obvious; why haven't you told him yet?”

“Are you insane? Gojo is hot, and on the basketball team, do you know how many people he already has crushing on him? I'm literally just another name on that list.”

“Sure,” she nods, “But the difference is that you're his friend too; you have more of a chance than anyone else.”

You sigh and frown at her. “Doubt.”

Shoko shakes her head, knowing that you two could spend all day here in your dorm debating whether you have a chance or not, but that’s not what she’s here for, so she’ll let you believe what you want, knowing that (hopefully) Gojo pulling whatever it is he wants to pull will prove you wrong.

“Whatever, put this on,” she says, throwing the jersey at you.

You catch it, your mouth slightly agape as you stare at it curiously. “…Isn't this?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, is it?”

“Shoko.”

“Can you just trust me?”

“I'm literally just gonna look like another one of his groupies," you say, disdain and disappointment lacing your words as your eyes dart back and forth between her and the jersey.

She smiles, and it’s off-putting because it’s not her normal smile; no, you know, this is the smile she only wears when she’s about to drop a bomb on you. “Difference is that that's his actual jersey.”

You freeze.

“What?”

“I’ll save you a seat. Bye,” she says as she walks out of your dorm.

The slam of your door restarts your heart, and suddenly it and your mind are racing at 100 miles per hour, and the only thing you can do is word vomit despite the fact that Shoko is gone.

“What do you mean by that?! What do you mean this is his actual jersey?!” You run and fling open your door to yell out into the hallway, “Get back here!?”

Shoko is a good bit away at this point, but she still hears you call out for her and acknowledges that with a wave, yet she still keeps walking away, and you're stuck in your doorway with your chest heaving. You look back down at the jersey in your hands.

Holy shit.

Not only is this a jersey with Gojo’s number on it, but it’s his jersey. How did Shoko even get this? Did she just take it without him knowing? Too many thoughts are in your head, but there’s only one that keeps overlapping the others, there’s only one that’s consistent, only one that electrifies every neuron in your body:

Holy shit, this is Gojo’s jersey.

Fuck the questions and fuck the answers you know you won’t get; the only thing that matters to you right now is that you have and are about to wear Gojo’s jersey. You have to be dreaming; really, that’s the only logical answer, but holy fuck, if you’re dreaming, you do not plan on waking up anytime soon—or ever.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

The two teams quickly start filling up the court and taking up their respective spaces as they warm up, but Gojo, being Gojo, isn't doing that. Instead, he’s standing on the sidelines, looking in at the crowd of people starting to take their seats for the game, and his heart is racing as he searches the crowd for you, and it drops when he inevitably doesn’t find you, but he’s not discouraged, not yet at least, because the game hasn’t officially even started yet, so there’s still time for you to show up.

There’s still time.

He has to keep reminding himself that the whole time he’s warming up—now that he’s actually being forced to, though it’s a half-assed warm-up—he and his coach don’t even know whether what he’s doing could be considered a warm-up in the first place. The game is about to start any second now when Geto approaches Gojo.

“Nothing?”

Gojo’s head drops as he reluctantly shakes it.

Geto hums and searches the stands for you, but when he doesn't find you either, he tries to find the next best person, Shoko, and it's quite easy to find her considering she’s wearing Geto's jersey.

“Shoko!”

She looks down from the bleachers and sees Geto staring at her as he gestures toward Gojo, and she knows he's trying to ask where you are, but in all honesty, she has no idea either. She shrugs, and even from as high up as she is, she can hear Geto groan before grabbing Gojo by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.

“I'm sure they’ll come, dude.”

Gojo blankly stares at Geto, an eyebrow raised skeptically, as if to say, really? but before he can verbally reply, their coach comes over and removes Geto’s hand from Gojo’s shoulder to place his own hand there.

“I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, fix it.”

Geto and Gojo tense up at his tone, full of nothing but pure determination. This isn't him asking; this is him demanding that Gojo get his shit together.

“This is the biggest game yet, and I'm not gonna let you and some petty college drama get in the way of that. You're our best player. Act like it.”

Gojo can only nod. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and it's like his throat is closing, but he tries to will the feeling away. Though his reaction is enough for his coach, who starts walking off.

Geto stares up at Gojo with his eyebrows knit, concern lacing his voice, “Gojo...”

Gojo shakes his head and takes a deep breath before flashing Geto his signature smile. “I'm fine, Geto; cmon, we got a basketball game to win.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

To be totally honest, the reason you were running so late to the game was because you were mentally shitting your pants the entire time you were getting ready. For a good chunk of time, you just sat on your bed with the jersey laid out in front of you, staring at it. Just staring at it, that's all. Because yes, even though you said fuck the questions and fuck the answers, you very much could not do that, not when too many questions and unknown answers were flooding your brain like a dam had cracked. You think you probably would've stayed like that all day and night, missing the game entirely, if not for Shoko spam calling your phone.

“What?”

“Don't 'what' me, where the fuck are you?” She snaps through the phone.

“Uh, getting ready?”

“Y/N, the game started twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh shit,” you say, hopping off your bed and quickly grabbing the jersey.

“Yeah, oh shit! Get your ass down here!”

You don't bother saying goodbye; instead, you quickly hang up, throw the jersey on as fast as you can, and bolt out the door. The halls are empty as you race through them, and you're not surprised; everyone is already at the game—everyone but you—and you speed up your pace just a smidge more. God, you're an idiot, missing the best game of the season—okay, you don't actually care about that. God, you're an idiot, missing seeing Gojo and maybe getting answers on how Shoko obtained his jersey—that's better.

You get to the gym in record time, slightly surprised at how quickly you got there, but you ignore that as you try to catch your breath before walking in and try to prepare yourself for the amount of noise that will assault your ears when you do. You can already hear how loud it is; the walls not doing very much at all to muffle the yells of people. You walk in and wince slightly at the noise as you look around for Shoko. She immediately finds you and waves her hand in the air for you to find, as does Utahime, who's sitting next to her. You smile and quickly make your way toward them, apologizing to the people you pushed through to get to them in the first place. You take your seat next to Shoko with a sigh.

“What did I miss?” you ask, leaning forward slightly just so you can look at both Utahime and Shoko.

Utahime has a small grimace on her face, and Shoko merely motions toward the scoreboard, and the minute you look, your jaw drops. Gojo’s team was losing. No. Losing isn't even the right word here; they were getting absolutely destroyed. They had zero points—none at all. You look back toward the two girls in disbelief.

“What the fuck?”

“Gojo is literally sucking so much ass that it's throwing everyone else off,” Utahime says with a shrug before glancing down at your clothes. “Are you wearing his jersey?”

You clear your throat awkwardly and look away, ignoring the smirk on Shoko's face.

“So, uh, do we know why Gojo’s sucking ass?” You ask after a brief moment of silence.

“Nope,” Utahime responds with a shake of her head.

“I do,” Shoko says nonchalantly.

Your head snaps back toward her. “What? Why?”

“Yeah, you didn't tell me either!”

Shoko rolls her eyes and ignores both of you as she loudly calls out to Gojo, who, by some grace of god, hears her over the hundreds of other people yelling for him. Gojo’s eyes immediately find hers, and he watches how she subtly jerks her head to the side, and like some angel descended from the heavens, like a god showing itself in a moment of dire, he looks and finds you sitting there in his jersey, and he can't help the smile on his face, can't help how just your presence lit a fire underneath him, can't help how just seeing you gave him his pep back in his step.

Gojo finds Geto’s eyes on the court and nods determinedly. They are winning this game, whether it's the last thing Gojo does. He's not going to look like a fool in front of you. So that's exactly what Gojo does. Once the second period starts, Gojo steals back the ball with a new sudden ease, and by halftime, he’s gotten the team caught up to the other one, starting the third period with a tie.

“How the hell did he do that? I thought you guys said he sucked!”

“Aw man, I was rooting for the other team,” Utahime says, frowning, and you have to resist the urge to chew her out in defense of Gojo.

Shoko shrugs. “He was till you know…”

You stare at her blankly. “No, I don't know, actually. Care to enlighten me?”

“No, I do not,” she says before turning to Utahime. “And don't worry, they're only tied; there's still a chance the other team will win.”

Utahime cheerfully hums as she rests her head on Shoko’s shoulder. “You’re right!”

“Don't encourage her to root for the other team?!”

Utahime sticks her tongue out at you, and before any of you can say anything else, a loud buzzer rings across the gym, indicating a point was made, and to your delight, it was for Gojo’s team. For the rest of the third period, it was just buzzer after buzzer as Gojo’s team took back their rightful place on the scoreboard, completely smashing the other team into the ground, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Watching Gojo in his element was doing detrimental things to your crush on him, only making it worse, but you can't even seem to care. Shoko looks over to you and laughs.

“I can practically see the hearts in your eyes.”

You scoff. “Shut up!”

Down on the court, they had just started their last two-minute break between third and fourth period, with the coaches gathering their respective teams into a huddle.

“Alright guys,” Gojo’s coach began, “Keep your heads in the game; we’re taking this victory home, got it?”

All the boys nod hurriedly, and the coach leaves them to do what they need to before the last period starts, but Gojo doesn’t let them get far.

“Whatever fucking happens, I'm getting that last score, got it?”

Everyone on the team exchanges uneasy glances, and Geto rolls his eyes and sighs before apologizing for Gojo.

“He just has a plan and wants to do something, guys.”

The boys nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

“If you guys mess this up for me, I swear to god, I will make you wish you were never born,” Gojo says with his usual smile, but in this case, all his smile does is make him seem feral.

Geto slaps Gojo across the back of his head and huffs, “He doesn’t mean that, don't worry.”

“Oh, I fucking mean it.”

“Gojo, shut the fuck up.”

Before anyone else can say anything, the timer goes off, and into the last minutes of the game they go. As the game goes on, everyone is on the edge of their seat, even if deep down they know who will win. You and Utahime are no exception to this, but apparently Shoko is.

“Why the fuck are you guys on the edge of your seats? It's obvious we’re gonna win.”

You go to glare at her but can’t even hold your stare long enough because you're so enthralled by the game. “Still, it's so nervewracking!”

Utahime laughs. “I'm only on the edge of my seat because I want the other team to win.”

“Why are you such a hater, dude?” you ask defensively.

Utahime doesn’t mind; she knows all too well about your little crush on Gojo, so she doesn’t take offense to your tone. “When it comes to Gojo, I'm always a hater.”

You finally find it in you to glare at her. “I hope Shoko breaks up with you.”

She rolls her eyes and glares back. “Oh, haha, you're so mature.”

You say nothing but stick your tongue out at her childishly, and she does the same, to which Shoko groans and rolls her eyes before grabbing both of your heads and turning them to face the game.

“You can fight after the game; there's only a few seconds left.”

Gojo glances at the time and realizes it’s now or never. He finds that Geto has the ball and calls out for him. Geto, on the other hand, hesitates to pass him the ball, with a look on his face asking if he really wants to do this, and Gojo can only nod. How could he not want to do this? This is the only thing he can do; it's not like he knows how to ask someone out the normal way, so this will do; it has to. Gojo tries to control his breathing as he makes his way to the hoop, the ball dribbling in tune with his heartbeat, and nothing matters to him in that moment except you and scoring—his surroundings completely drowning out. Everyone holds their breath waiting for him to shoot, and right before he does, his eyes lock onto yours.

“This is for you, Y/N!” He yells out as he shoots, and…

And he misses.

Horribly.

And there's no chance for him to redeem himself because the minute the ball hits the ground, the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the game, and everyone seemingly ignores whatever the fuck he just did and erupts into an uproar at the fact that they won regardless of Gojo’s miss.

“What-“

Shoko slaps a hand over her mouth, attempting and failing to hold in her laughter. “Did he just fucking miss?”

Utahime is hunched over, her head between her knees, laughing. “Oh my fucking god, he's an idiot!”

You blink, not moving, not saying anything, but with how hard Shoko is laughing and Utahime leaning against her as she laughs as well, Shoko ends up bumping into you, and she instantly grows quiet, her head snapping toward you.

“Oh, why are you still here?”

“Huh?”

"Why aren’t you down there?” she asks, pointing down to the court.

“Am… Am I supposed to be?”

“Uh duh!” Utahime speaks up, peeking out from behind Shoko. “He made that shot for you! Well, he missed that shot for you.”

“Oh,” you say blankly. “Oh. Oh shit.”

You stood up abruptly, and with how fast you went down the bleachers, you almost tripped once you made it onto the ground. You quickly catch yourself, and the moment you look up to find Gojo, he’s already standing right in front of you.

“You're-you're wearing my jersey,” he says breathlessly, but not in a I-can’t-breathe way, more in a holy-shit-my-crush-is-actually-wearing-my-jersey way.

You swallow thickly and nod. Your gaze flickers down to the jersey before going back to his face. “I am.”

“You are.”

“What was that Gojo?”

He seems to grimace at your question. “Ah, well, you see, I was actually gonna say if I make this, you owe me a date, but that’s a really long sentence to shout, and what if I didn’t make it? That would’ve been so embarrassing.”

You laugh under your breath. “Gojo, you didn’t make it regardless.”

He frowns. “Don’t remind me.”

You smile and push a strand of hair stuck to his forehead out of the way, watching how he blushes furiously at your touch, and it makes your heart swoon. Who knew the confident number-one basketball player could crumble so readily under your touch?

“You know, I’m still more than happy to owe you a date.”

He smirks as he pulls you closer toward him by your waist and coos, “Yeah?"

“Yeah… But get the hell off of me, Gojo; you’re sweaty and you stink,” you grumble as you push against his chest, trying to free yourself.

Gojo ignores you and pulls you in closer (if even possible), his body engulfing yours as he rubs his face against yours, making sure his sweat rubs off on you too.

You struggle against his hold. “Gojo gross!”

“Sorry, I can't hear you over the people. What are you saying? Hug you closer?”

“Gojo, don’t you dare.”

You hear him chuckle before rubbing up against you again, and you groan but stop resisting, which he hums happily at before starting to pull away. You watch how his face abruptly twists into feigned disgust.

"Ew, Y/N, get the hell off of me; you’re sweaty and you stink,” he mocks as he pushes you out of his hold.

“I hate you.”

“If you hated me, you wouldn’t be going on a date with me,” he singsongily says.

“Yeah, not anymore,” you mumble with a wry smile as you start walking away.

“Hey, wait, Y/N, come back!”

2K notes · View notes

thewriterg · 2 years ago

Text

why do i cry?

A/n; more headcanons because yay… ermmm plz don’t think that just bc Simon is white this isn’t poc reader friendly coming from a black reader and writer —angstober day;19—

warning(s); dad!simon x daughter!reader, description of self harm, scars, mention of family issues, and language

dad simon! who rushes you into his flat when he looks at your form standing in front of him taking his hand from the waistband of his sweatpants that secured his hand gun to his hip pulling you into chest worrying over your unscathed body as far as the eye reacted questions falling from his tongue quicker than he could catch “what you doing ‘ere sweet girl” he muttered the plain balaclava that rested on his face now gone

dad simon! who’s dead cold heart beats a little quicker when he sees you trying to stop tears from slipping down and flooding your face before he takes your bag sitting it against the arm of his older than age couch before lifting your form into his experienced arms walking you to his bedroom that was almost empty except for essentials like most of the place

dad simon! who cuddles you his body acting as a space heater to regulate your cooling temps rubbing a hand up and down you back his ears perking up when you whispered barley audible to him but he heard nonetheless “can I live with you?” the blonde squeezed his eyes shut in response before resting a kiss to your forehead “your alright you can stay”

dad simon! Who watches you sleep from his door frame curled up while his duvets swallowed you whole shutting the door with a gentle ‘click’ pulling his phone from his pocket scrolling through his contact until he got to your mothers number typing on it as you leaned against is island counter rubbing a hand through his hair the usual cool and collected demeanor he carried no longer around when it came to you, when it came to his world.

dad simon! Who watches you wither away the next days your with him he could see the battle of depression you were in he’d been there himself too many times to count and hated that you had to experience it the little no appetite, no energy to take care of yourself which he had no problem doing for you, when you wake up on time but lay in bed until your late.

dad simon! Who at one point bulldozed you out of bed a soft threat of force feeding you falling from his lips he hate it got to that point he felt like he sounded like his father… no he said it because he cared about your wellbeing not because you were ‘waisting food he put on the table’

dad simon! who calls out to you when you finally finish a decent portion of your meal stopping you in your tracks your hand resting on your his bedroom door while he motions for you to take a seat with on the couch and you do reluctantly sitting across from him your knee bouncing anxiously and reaches to set his palm on it stopping your fidgeting

dad simon! “what’s going on baby girl? You have to tell me what’s the matter so I can help” you can tell he’s trying to soften his voice even if it is still has that gruff underlying tone but he’s trying and you feel even more guilty for intruding now your throat beginning to close up before putting your hands on your face and you can hear his footsteps expecting the couch to dip under another weight but it had never happened until you felt another palm on the back of yours

dad simon! who frowns as you sob out a “don’t be mad” and even after he reassures you your still not a hundred percent making him swear and promise over everything under the sun and he balances trying not to rush you but also urging you on “I do this thing… where I hurt myself” You sniffle and Simon’s world is crashing down onto him he feels his mouth open to speak he closes it wets his lips with his tongue before opening it again and he stumbles over his words before taking a breath and continuing “what do you mean you hurt yourself? Hurt yourself how?”

dad simon! Who watches you shuffle above him meeting his eyes quickly looking away like a scared animal in the wild before you pulled out a lighter one he recognized from his night stand with a skull on the the front its jaw looked as if it was cracked agape when you opened the lid and Simon struggles not to choke

dad simon! “And I burn sometimes, I’m- I’m sorry dad, I’m so sorry” The blonde holds you into his chest and rocks you gently tears falling down his face that he tried to squeeze away the pain worse than any bullet to his chest or hunters knife to his spleen

dad simon! “It’s okay, it’s alright love, im very proud of you for telling me” he whispered into you hair kissing the crown of your head crying until the sun rises

408 notes · View notes

deer-diary-from-hell · 9 months ago

Text

Dandy’s world oc pt.2 +some voicelines for her erm… and Adam too lol

starting with BETH the bolt

REQUIREMENTS:

2500 ichor

have an encounter with twisted Adam

complete 10 machines

A hard workin toon! Will not stop until work is all done! That is her job after all

Despite her strength and height she is kind hearted and gentle to be around.

that doesn’t mean she’ll let you walk all over her, she isn’t a doormat and she will not hesitate to confront anyone who dared to treat her or her friends like garbage.

She’s really strong, can easily break someone’s bone if she wanted to

best friends with Adam!! Even though he’s also besties with her enemy (will post about them later)

Likes having arm wrestling matches with Adam (lets Adam win most of the time and only wins to avoid suspicion)

The only toon to make Shrimpo shut up😭😭

TWISTED! BETH

“ A twisted drowning in her own work, she will burst out on one of the first machines that are completed before attempting to grab and harm the first toon she sees, hope you know how to fight back!” - twisted research

A twisted that has the same speed as toodles and have a slightly longer attention span than average (not the same level as Pebbles and glisten)

just like I said earlier, she will burst out of the first machine completed as a small minigame appears where you have to escape from her grasp to avoid getting hit. Win or lose, she’ll get out of the machine and begin chasing you down. If you won earlier she’ll give you a 3 second headstart, if not she’ll immediately chase you down.

if she spots you and she’s far away she’ll throw a wrench at you, causing slow 2 and confusion 3 for 2.5 seconds. Although this is pretty easy to dodge.

ermmm.. some lines if u care… (with adam)

Go… ask some questions if you care.. erm… runs away

#dandys world #dandy’s world #fanart #dandy’s world oc #dandys world oc #The pages of the diary(🦌📝)

75 notes · View notes

redzania · 5 months ago

Text

ermmm i might as well do this on my main ??

ANNOUNCEMENT FOR *ALL* OF MY ASKBLOGS.

It has come to my attention that there WILL be a raid, sending in gore of CHILDREN. As a person who is *VERY* *VERY* uncomfortable with said thing, I will be closing ALL of my ask blog/roleplay blog inboxes until further notice that the raid has passed. I hope you understand that this IS important and that I *have* to do this, otherwise met with extreme discomfort, as I have multiple inboxes which means multiple images of said gore. This is a very short announcement- as this is me, myself, and I, informing all of my audience that I will be shutting off the lights for any new asks. However- I will still be answering asks that have already been sent in.

Thank you for reading By yours truly, Redzania.

#announcement #cosmo blog mod / cosblog mod #doodle blog mod #todd blog mod #forcenon blog mod #blue blog mod #fear blog mod #a.jim blog mod #l.accountant blog mod #conductor.n blog mod #minty.s blog mod #i dunno if im doing this right #i am still VERY inexperienced despite having a lot of blogs #hoping and begging that others see this #keep yourself and your blogs safe #AAGGHH IM VERY NERVOUS

41 notes · View notes

defn0tonyourleft · 2 months ago

Text

Sunflower - Post Malone |Fluff|

Description: Straight fluff. Bucky being insecure about his arm, dear friend of Bucky who had a knack for art, helps to try and ease the insecurities.

Words: 5.4K ish?

TW: (tbh I wrote this so long ago so forgive me if anything’s missing) swearing, insecurities, trauma, distaste for physical touch, ermmm can’t think of anything else! enjoy 💗

She had been a member of the Avengers since the very beginning. Persuading Tony to join the Avengers while trying to keep his relationship with Pepper afloat. Those were the days when everything was simple.

Then the Avengers came together, and Ultron happened... Woah, Stark Tower. Then they upgraded to Stark Compounds, where they're at now.

She had always found Tony's work impressive and even studied and emulated it when she had the chance. But she was no Tony Stark. She was into the medical field, which prompted her studies to combine Tony's work with her medical knowledge.

That progressed into her becoming a bit of a lab rat for S.H.I.E.L.D. Super soldier DNA mixed with her own. But- it hadn't gone exactly according to plan. She'd get waves of dizziness, among a plethora of other things.

Then, while she tried to deal with that on her own, Bucky came around. She'd been best friends with him and Steve back in the day. They had been introduced by Peggy Carter, and just... Clicked ever since. It had been interesting for them to wake up over seventy years later- to... All of the new technology. But she quickly adapted. Though, both she and Steve dearly missed Bucky.

And finally, the present. Bucky wasn't dead? It was all a blur really.

But now that Tony was... Relatively fine with Bucky; he was allowed on Stark Compounds. Anywhere, really. His name was cleared. Now, present day. Most of the team had their own living quarters on the compound.

Turning around at the sound of Steve's voice, she was met with the faces of Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Sam. None of them besides Steve really knew how deep their friendship ran. She was working tirelessly in her lab.

"Do you guys need me for something?"

She asked, as she continued to keep her eyes on her project in front of her. It was starting to get relatively late, which mildly surprised her that all of them were in here.

As the time ticked by, she spent hours in her office, mindlessly working away. Continuing her work, sitting at her desk, she heard soft footsteps trailing towards her office door. Looking up, she quickly saw the old pal of hers, Steve Rogers. Steve stepped forward, his blue eyes filled with concern as he looked at y/n's, frame hunched over the lab table. He knew her work was important, perhaps even vital to the future of the Avengers, but he couldn't help feeling a twinge of worry seeing her push herself so hard, especially with her recent... complications.

"Hey, y/n, we were just checking in on you. It's getting late and we didn't want you burning the midnight oil alone in here." He said gently, his deep voice echoing slightly in the sterile lab.

Tony, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"Come on, Cap, leave the poor girl alone. She knows what she's doing. Besides, I thought you, of all people, would appreciate the value of a good work ethic."

He quipped, a smirk playing on his lips.

Natasha, who had been quietly observing the exchange, now spoke up.

"Actually, I agree with Steve on this one, Stark. You've been pushing yourself too hard lately. I've seen the hours you keep, and it's not healthy."

Her green eyes narrowed as she studied y/n's face, searching for any sign of exhaustion or strain.

Sam, who had been looking at his phone, glanced up and added his two cents.

"I mean, we're all here for you, y/n. If you need a hand with anything, don't hesitate to ask. That's what teamwork is all about."

He flashed a warm, encouraging smile before looking back at his screen.

Of course, none of them knew the full extent of her medical situation or the secret experiments she had undergone. They couldn't see the way her head swam occasionally or feel the odd sensation in her body. But they could see the dedication and determination etched on her face as she worked tirelessly to unravel the mysteries of her own DNA.

Steve took a step closer to her, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone.

"Hey... if there's anything you want to talk about, anything at all... you know you can come to me, right? I'm here for you, y/n. Always."

He reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder, a gesture of support and camaraderie that spoke volumes about the deep bond they shared.

She sighed, knowing this was coming. As they spoke up, she packed up her things, rubbing her eyes a bit. It was the same thing almost every night. She's working too hard, no she's not, she needs a break, no she doesn't.

The entire team seemed to argue on the topic, which mildly bothered her. But she truly was tired right now, which did make things a bit worse. She never had a good nights sleep. Even before... Everything.

Standing up from her desk, she closed one of the drawers a bit forcefully as she crossed her arms.

"I appreciate the concerns, but I'm fine. I'm just tired, that's all."

She said, looking between all of them. "Nothing to talk about, nothing I need to disclose. I just simply need sleep."

Her tone was soft, though she was a bit annoyed by their persistence on the topic. On several occasions, she had told them to drop it, because she was fine. Which she was, for the most part.

"You all need to go to sleep. You're getting on me about my health, yet it's late, and you guys aren't asleep either."

She said as she started making her way out of the room, walking past all of them.

Steve frowned slightly at y/n's dismissive response, sensing her annoyance and exhaustion. He knew pushing the issue further would only lead to more resistance from her. So, he decided to let it go for now but made a mental note to check in on her again later when she might be more open to talking.

"You're right. It's late, and we should all get some rest." He conceded, stepping aside to let her pass.

"Just... be careful going to your quarters. And if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to reach out."

He added, his voice laced with concern.

Tony, ever the observant one, noticed the slight unsteadiness in y/n's step as she walked by. His brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp elbow from Natasha in his ribs made him think twice. He closed his mouth, a look of contemplation on his face as he watched y/n exit the lab.

Natasha shook her head slightly at Tony, giving him a warning look. She knew y/n well enough to sense when she needed space, and this was one of those times.

"Let her go, Stark." She murmured softly.

Sam, ever the peacemaker, chimed in with a gentle smile. "Goodnight, y/n. Sleep well." He called after her retreating form, hoping his words might bring her some measure of peace and rest.

As y/n made her way through the dimly lit corridors of the Stark Compound, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her like a heavy cloak. It was just the exhaustion or the lingering effects of her experiments - though those were certainly contributing factors to the growing feeling.

She paused for a moment outside her quarters, her hand hovering over the biometric scanner. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, and she bit her lower lip, a habit she'd developed whenever she was deep in thought. She knew she should go inside, try to rest, to forget about everything for a while. But a part of her wanted to keep working, to push through the fatigue and frustration until she found the answers she so desperately needed.

With a sigh, she placed her hand on the scanner, the door sliding open with a soft click, as she walked into her room. With a sigh, she ended up walking over to her bed, crashing down on it with a thud.

She ended up changing into some sweats and a T-Shirt, and trying to go to sleep. But of course, to no surprise of her own, she couldn't sleep. For hours she tossed and turned, unable to go to sleep.

She turned the fan on and off, cranked the A/C, but nothing. She didn't know why she even bothered anymore, she knew it was an impossible task. Whether it be nightmares, uncomfortablility, or another unknown factor, she never slept for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time.

After a while of her tossing and turning, she decided she was tired and annoyed enough to get up to get some food.

Lazily making herself a sandwich, she sat down on the couch in the common room, feeling almost more... At ease than her room. By the time she was done, she was a whole new form of exhaustion.

So she decided to kick her feet up and relax. The couch was wide enough for at least two people to lie down, so she did just that.

Laying down, she propped up a few pillows, going to shut her eyes. She actually thought for a moment she might be able to sleep. Until she heard footsteps. Raising a brow, she opened up one of her eyes to try and locate the source of the sound.

As she opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of Bucky looking rather tired himself, and overall just... Done. Which she could relate to in a few days. Sitting up with a groan, she spoke up, the tiredness and exhaustion in her tone evident.

"Bucky...? Why are you up? And why are you out here? Can't sleep?"

Bucky paused for a moment, surprised to see his old friend sitting awake and lounging on the couch in the common room at this late hour. He was about to turn back and retreat to his own quarters, not wanting to disturb her, but her question made him linger.

He stepped further into the room, his tired eyes meeting hers in the dim light. The exhaustion was evident on his face, etched into the lines around his eyes and the slump of his shoulders. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, his prosthetic arm resting at his side.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" He replied, a hint of a weary smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I thought I was the only one still awake. It's been a long day." He said, rubbing his temple with his organic hand.

Bucky hesitated for a moment before moving closer, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch from her. He leaned back against the cushions, letting out a soft sigh. "I've been having trouble sleeping lately. Too much on my mind, I guess." He admitted, glancing over at her.

He knew all too well the struggles she faced when it came to sleep. They had talked about it in passing before, bonding over their shared insomnia and the toll it took on them both mentally and physically. It was one of the reasons he considered her a friend. Bucky's gaze drifted to the clock on the wall, noting the late hour.

"What about you? Usually you're dead to the world by now."

He commented with a slight chuckle, hoping to inject a bit of levity into the conversation.

"Everything okay?"

He asked, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

He sat up a bit more as she slid farther over to the side closest to the couch. Though she wouldn't say anything, she made room if he had gotten the incredibly subtle hint that she was fine with him coming over to sit with her.

"Just the normal. You know I can never sleep. Tonight's not an exception. And trust me, I know how it is. It sucks."

She said, rolling her eyes. Even though she was tired, she still picked up on the small things. Her eyes went to his arms before realizing he was wearing a T-shirt. Usually, it was always long-sleeve. She couldn't tell whether it was more comfortable for him or he just didn't like showing his... Different arm.

But she wouldn't get it. He wore gloves, too. So it would make sense. But- except other. She always thought his arm was cool. Or maybe she was reading into it too much. But her tired brain spewed out the question going through her head anyway.

"You know... That's one of the first times I've seen you wear a short-sleeve shirt. You really weren't planning on seeing anyone out here, were you?"

She said rather rhetorically, knowing his answer.

"Well..." She said, flipping on her side and looking over at him with a tired look in her eyes, but still no rest. Sighing, she nuzzled her head into the few pillows she had as she tried to get comfortable.

"If it's any help- If I'm not reading into this too much, that is... But I like the arm. It's apart of you, and it's pretty cool. So I wouldn't try and hide it. It's unquiely you."

Bucky's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at y/n's comment, not expecting her to bring up his arm. He glanced down at his prosthetic, a flicker of something - discomfort, maybe even a hint of shame - flashing across his face before he quickly masked it. It was a subject he didn't often discuss, preferring to leave his past, and the circumstances surrounding his injury, in the past.

He met her gaze, seeing the sincerity in her tired eyes. Her words struck a chord with him, and he felt a warmth bloom in his chest at her acceptance, her lack of revulsion at the sight of his mechanical limb. It wasn't often that people, especially those close to him, spoke so openly about it.

Bucky let out a soft, almost surprised laugh, shaking his head slightly.

"I... I'm not used to people being so blunt about it. Most people either stare or look away, not wanting to offend me by bringing it up."

He admitted, a note of vulnerability in his voice, though he masked it with a small laugh.

He looked down at his arm again, turning it over slightly as if seeing it through new eyes. The metal gleamed in the low light, a testament to the cutting-edge technology that had allowed him to regain some semblance of a normal life.

Bucky's gaze drifted back to y/n, a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"You know, I've never really thought about it like that. I guess I just... I don't know. I've always felt like it was a part of me, but not in a good way."

"It's still a part of who I am, scars and all."

He leaned back against the couch cushions, getting more comfortable as he turned to face her more fully.

"Thanks... That means a lot, actually. It's nice to talk about it. Without everyone dancing around it, hell- that just makes it worse. But even then, still. It's nice to be... This sounds corny, but it's nice to be seen. Not just the arm, but me."

He said softly, trying not to wake any others, though he knew that he wouldn't. With their little group, you either got no sleep or took every possible method of a sleep aid that you could, and prayed that you wouldn't wake up.

Bucky's eyes drifted to the clock, noting the late hour, before he shrugged and settled in, seeming to relax more in y/n's presence.

"Since we're both up anyway, want to watch a movie or something?" He said, his voice almost a bit shy. Which did make her smile a tiny bit.

"Sure, why not?"

She said, shrugging, as she crossed her arms. Sitting up to an upright position, she made no effort to grab the remote to turn on the T.V. She just looked at him for a moment in the dim lighting. Speaking up, she questioned, trying to trad lightly around the question, or come off too strong.

"Well- Why don't you like it? I mean I'm not trying to come after you or anything. I'm just genuinely curious."

"Like... In my eyes at least, it's pretty badass. And I see the way you try and hide it. I very rarely see you without gloves, a jacket, long sleeve shirt, something like that. And I know you get stares, trust me. Even I get stares. But- Why care?"

"Sure, you've done some shit. We all have. But that doesn't take away from everything good you've done."

"And like I was saying, it's pretty badass. And I'm sure I'm not the only person on the planet who could think that. I can almost guarantee you that at least a few of those stares, are people being genuinely curious. Or intrigued, at the very least. Because I know I'd be."

She said, leaning into the couch a bit, getting a wave of exhaustion wash over her.

"I don't know... I just- remember when we used to be young, all the way back then. You were this- womanizer."

Chuckling, she carried on, a look in her eyes.

"You were all confident. Overconfident- if anything. Cocky, really. I just guess... I kinda miss everything before-, all of this. You know? Me being the third wheel when you and Steve went on double dates. Even if it did suck. But not that much compared to what's going on."

Bucky was silent for a moment, considering her question. It was a subject he rarely delved into, preferring to leave his past, and the circumstances surrounding his injury, in the past. He took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself before he spoke.

When he finally did, his voice was low and thoughtful. "I guess... I guess I've always seen it as a reminder. A constant reminder of everything I've lost, everything I've done. It's not just a piece of metal and wires, it's a testament to the violence, the death, the pain I've caused."

He paused, his gaze distant as if lost in memories of his past.

"When I first woke up, after HYDRA... I didn't know who I was. I was just a weapon, a tool for them to use. And when I finally broke free, when Steve found me... I thought I could just go back to being the man I used to be. But I couldn't. I am the Winter Soldier, y/n. I've done things, terrible things, and this..."

He held up his prosthetic arm, a grim expression on his face. "This is a reminder of that. A constant, physical reminder."

Bucky's gaze drifted back to her, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "But you're right, I have done good things too. I've tried to make amends, to be a better man. And maybe, just maybe, you're right about the arm. Maybe it is a part of who I am now, scars and all."

He chuckled softly at y/n's mention of his womanizing past, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, I was a real Casanova back then, wasn't I? I thought I was invincible, untouchable. I didn't realize how much I was hurting people, myself included. But I was young and stupid, and I thought I had all the time in the world to figure it out."

Bucky's expression sobered, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I miss those days too. I miss the simplicity of it all, the camaraderie, the sense of purpose. But I can't go back to being that man. I'm not him anymore."

As he spoke about his arm, she suddenly got a great idea. Grinning, she stood up from where she sat, with a bit of a smirk on her face.

"I'll be right back."

She said before quickly making her way out of the room. As she hurried back, she held a few markers in her hand that she had in her room. She always had a thing for drawing. It was one of the few normal things she actually had time to enjoy.

Turning on one of the lights in the room, she was suddenly very thankful Tony installed dimming lights. Instantly she closed her eyes, as she accidently turned the light on the brightest setting.

"Jesus Chris- Sorry." She said, turning it down.

Once it was at a manageable setting, she walked back over to the couch, she sat next to Bucky, on his left. She kept a distance, knowing he liked his space.

Chuckling a bit, she shook her head at her stupid idea. Reaching out carefully, she looked to Bucky, not touching him quite yet.

"Can I?" She said, referencing his metal arm.

Bucky looked at y/n with a mix of surprise and curiosity as she rushed out and returned with markers. He raised an eyebrow as she sat down next to him, maintaining a respectful distance as he had come to expect from her.

When she asked for permission to touch his arm, Bucky hesitated for a moment, not entirely sure what she had in mind. But seeing the playful grin on her face and the mischievous glint in her eye, he found himself smiling back at her.

Shrugging lightly, he extended his metal arm towards her, the mechanical joints whirring softly.

"Sure, why not? But I warns you, if you draw a dick... So help me, I might have to kick your ass." He teased, his tone light and joking.

Despite the playful words, there was an underlying vulnerability in his eyes, a hesitation that spoke of years of self-consciousness and discomfort with his prosthetic limb. It was a rare moment of unguarded honesty from the stoic soldier, a glimpse into the man beneath the jokes and the bravado.

Still, he held his arm out to her, allowing her to take the markers and begin her impromptu art project. It was a small gesture, but a significant one nonetheless. A sign of trust, of acceptance, of a growing bond between them.

She rolled her eyes as she began doodling stars, moons, and all the random things she could think of.

"Like you could kick my ass." She said, rolling her eyes again with a chuckle. Yes, she was more than sure he'd stand a pretty good chance against her, but still.

Afterwards, she fell silent, just drawing on his arm. She was surprised he wasn't saying anything. But now and then, she'd look up just to find him watching her draw on his arm. Honestly, she couldn't help but find it a bit cute, prompting a few chuckles from her.

After a while, she used her other hand to hold his arm in place as she drew, honestly getting lost in her own thoughts as she drew. She was completely lighting his arm up with graffiti-like drawings.

Once she finished, she leaned back, her hand gently on his wrist to keep it in place. She admired her work for a moment. She had drawn his last name up the side of his arm, making it look like spray paint was used. She signed her name underneath it with a heart as she finished up.

"So...? What'dya think?"

Bucky watched in fascination as she lost herself in her art, her brow furrowed in concentration as she doodled and scribbled on his metallic arm. He found her focused intensity oddly endearing, a stark contrast to the carefree, teasing demeanor she usually portrayed.

As she worked, Bucky couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the transformation of his cold, lifeless prosthetic into a vibrant canvas of color and creativity. It was a strange sensation, to feel something so deeply personal and once so source of shame, now becoming a vessel for someone else's passion.

When she finally leaned back to admire her handiwork, Bucky followed her gaze to his arm, now adorned with a stunning graffiti-inspired display of his last name, complete with a signed heart courtesy of y/n. He had to admit, it looked damn good. Edgy, bold, and unapologetically unique, much like the woman who had created it.

Bucky looked up at her, a slow grin spreading across his face as he took in her expectant expression. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amazement. "You know, when you first mentioned this crazy idea, I thought you were just being your usual sarcastic self. But this..." He held up his arm, admiring the intricate details and vibrant colors.

"This is actually really fucking cool."

His eyes met hers, a warmth and sincerity in their blue depths that was rare to see.

"Thank you. This is... I- This is really fucking cool."

He said softly, chuckling a bit, his voice tinged with genuine appreciation and a hint of emotion.

In that moment, Bucky felt a flicker of something he had long thought lost - a sense of self-acceptance, of pride in who he was, scars and all. And he had y/n to thank for it.

She grinned, her hand still on his arm as she looked at him. Smiling a bit, she looked from his arm to his eyes, chuckling.

"Really fucking cool, huh? Since when does the old man use profanity?"

She said with a grin, as her hand subconsciously lingered on his arm.

"You know, I really have cut back on swearing as much because of Steve. Well, at least when Steve's around. I don't know whether it's funny, sad, or... Both."

Looking back down to his arm, she turned a bit, getting a better look at it herself.

"By the way, this should come off in the shower, just with water. Though, if you want me to... One day I can make it more permanent. Use something behind markers."

She said with a bit of a chuckle, as she looked back up at his eyes.

"What time is it anyway? I'm- tired to say the least."

She commented with a chuckle, though she was telling the truth.

Bucky barked out a laugh at y/n's teasing comment about his language, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Old man? I'm not that old, you little whippersnapper."

He retorted playfully, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Besides, I've been around long enough to pick up a few choice words here and there. Steve might be a saint, but I'm no saint."

He winked at her, enjoying their easy banter.

"Ew- Don't wink at me-." She said with a laugh, almost instantaneously.

As y/n mentioned the possibility of making his temporary tattoo permanent, Bucky felt a strange sense of hesitation. On one hand, the idea of having a permanent reminder of this moment, of y/n's unique artistry and acceptance of him, was oddly appealing. But on the other hand, the thought of marking his skin, his body, with something that couldn't be washed away... it stirred up old fears and insecurities.

Bucky looked down at the colorful designs adorning his arm, tracing his fingers over the raised lines of the marker. He took a deep breath, pushing down the sudden surge of anxiety.

"I might take you up on that offer someday. For now, though, I think I'll appreciate the temporary nature of it. Kinda like our little secret, you know?"

He said softly, glancing up at her with a small, enigmatic smile.

At the mention of the time and her weariness, Bucky's expression softened with concern. He glanced at his watch, noting the late hour.

"It's getting late; you're right. You should probably head to bed, doll. I don't want you keeling over from exhaustion on my watch."

He teased gently, his hand instinctively moving to cover hers on his arm, giving it a light, comforting squeeze.

Her smile tilted as she heard the old pet name; the memories of when she first heard it came back to her like it was yesterday.

Despite the playful words, there was an underlying note of sincerity in Bucky's voice. He had grown fond of y/n's company, of her unfiltered honesty and zest for life. Having her around had brought a much-needed breath of fresh air into his often dark and haunted existence.

"Sweet dreams." He said softly, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles before he reluctantly pulled his hand away, allowing her to stand and retire for the night.

As he spoke, she could see the hint of anxiety behind his eyes at the thought of making something permanent. As he continued, she just gave him a small smile in hopes of trying to ease his nerves.

Her eyes went to their hands. To be frank, she wasn't exactly one for much physical touch either. But this wasn't horrible. It helped that Steve, Sam, or anyone else was around, for that matter, to make some annoying comment like they always did.

As he pulled his hand back, her eyes went back up to his. For some reason, she felt bad suggesting anything more than what she already did. She knew he was self-conscious. Anyone with any people skills could see that. She was surprised he didn't go and put on a sweatshirt or something.

Even after knowing each other practically their entire lives, he was still wary around her. Which, in his defense, was completely reasonable. It did kind of hurt a bit to see the cheerful, happy man she once knew to be so... gloomy. But, everyone just needed time. She hoped.

However, she couldn't help the growing guilt as all of these thoughts built in her head. After a moment, after he had said goodnight, she leaned over carefully, wrapping her arms around him as best as she could.

She was already sitting a bit far away, so the position they were in wasn't exactly preferable. But she did it anyway. Carefully resting her head on his chest, she just fell silent, still having a loose grip on him just in case he wanted to pull back.

Bucky stiffened slightly as y/n suddenly wrapped her arms around him, his body instinctively tensing at the unexpected contact. It had been so long since he'd allowed himself to be touched with genuine affection, and his scarred, broken soul recoiled from the foreign sensation. His breath hitched in his throat, and for a moment, he teetered on the edge of pushing her away, of retreating back into the icy, isolated fortress he'd built around his heart.

But as he stood there, feeling the warmth of her embrace seeping into his chilled skin, he felt something shift inside him. A faint, flickering ember of the man he used to be, the man who had once found comfort and joy in simple acts of kindness and connection. That tiny spark of his former self urged him to relax, to allow this moment of tenderness.

Slowly, hesitantly, Bucky's arms came up to encircle her frame. He held her gently, almost tentatively, as if he were afraid he might break her if he held too tightly. His calloused hands, hands that had known only violence and destruction, now cradled her with a softness that belied their strength.

Bucky's gaze drifted down to the top of y/n's head, her curly hair tickling his chin. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her shampoo, the faint aroma of marker ink that now clung to her skin from their creative session. A shuddering sigh escaped his lips as he felt the last of the tension drain from his body.

In that moment, as he held her close, Bucky felt a profound sense of gratitude. He felt gratitude for her unwavering acceptance, for her ability to see past the broken, scarred exterior to the man he still was beneath it all. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he tightened his embrace slightly, pulling her a bit closer.

He couldn't find the words to express the depth of emotion he was feeling, so he simply held her, letting his actions convey the thanks and appreciation he couldn't voice. He knew he couldn't stay like this forever, couldn't hide away from the world in her gentle arms. But for now, in this stolen moment, he allowed himself to simply be held, to be seen, and to be accepted.

After a long, peaceful moment, Bucky finally spoke, his voice a low, rough murmur against the top of y/n's head.

"Thank you, y/n." he whispered, his words thick with emotion.

"For... for everything."

He knew he couldn't stay like this forever, couldn't hide away in her gentle arms and expect the world to leave him be. But for now, in this moment, he allowed himself to simply be held, to be seen, and to feel a glimmer of hope that perhaps he could still be a man worthy of someone as kind and patient as herself.

Slowly, reluctantly, Bucky loosened his embrace and took a step back, his hands hovering uncertainly at her elbows as if not quite sure what to do with them. He looked down at her, his blue eyes searching hers, a faint blush coloring his cheeks beneath the scars.

"I should... I should go try and get some sleep." He said softly, already missing the warmth of her closeness.

"But I... I'm glad we did this. I'm glad we got to... Talk."

Bucky took a deep, shuddering breath, his gaze never leaving y/n's face.

"Night,"

He whispered with a smile before turning and walking away, his steps slower and more measured than before.

"Sleep well."

21 notes · View notes