#gildedsilk

[gildedsilk]

You Can Walk Home 🚙

Pt 1/2.

• Sim Jaeyun x Reader | Wc: 2K+ | Angst | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist | Pt 2.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. A night out with friends, a break from the usual routine, a chance to breathe. Instead, it had turned into this—a suffocating silence stretching between you and Jake, thick with unspoken words and simmering frustration.

The car ride had been tense from the start. You could feel it in the way Jake gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, the way his jaw clenched every time you shifted in your seat.

You knew this was coming.

The distance between you two had been growing for weeks, little things piling up like fragile glass stacking too high, waiting to shatter. And tonight, it finally did.

It started at dinner.

Jake had been quieter than usual, distracted in a way that made your chest tighten. Every time you tried to pull him back into the conversation, he brushed you off with a short answer, a small nod, a barely-there smile. You told yourself it was nothing—maybe he was just tired, maybe he had a lot on his mind—but deep down, it felt like something more.

So when you finally asked, when you leaned in and whispered, “Is something wrong?” his response was sharp enough to cut.

“Can we not do this here?” Jake muttered under his breath, barely glancing at you.

You blinked, taken aback. “Do what?”

He exhaled, rubbing his temple. “This. The questioning. The whole ‘What’s wrong, Jake?’ thing.��

Your stomach twisted. “I was just asking—”

“Yeah, and I’m saying I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he said, his tone clipped.

A few of your friends had started to notice, their laughter dying down as they exchanged uncertain glances. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and frustration swirling in your chest.

But you let it go.

You forced a smile, nodded, and pretended the lump in your throat wasn’t there.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. You laughed when you were supposed to, joined conversations when they pulled you in, but your mind was elsewhere. On Jake. On the way he was acting. On the growing ache in your chest.

By the time you both left the restaurant, the air was thick with tension. You barely made it to the car before it all boiled over.

Jake had just unlocked the doors when you spoke.

“Do you even want to be here?”

He paused, his hand resting on the handle. “What?”

“With me,” you clarified, crossing your arms. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it lately.”

Jake let out a dry, humorless laugh as he yanked the car door open. “You’re being dramatic.”

You scoffed, following him around to the driver’s side. “Am I? Because from where I’m standing, I’m the only one even trying anymore.”

Jake sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, I don’t want to do this right now.”

“Well, too bad,” you shot back, voice rising despite yourself. “Because I can’t keep pretending everything is fine when it’s not.”

He turned to face you then, eyes dark with frustration. “So what do you want me to say? That I’m tired? That I’ve got a million things on my mind? That maybe I don’t have the energy to sit here and explain myself every time you think something’s wrong?”

Your heart clenched. “That’s not—”

“I don’t need you to pick apart everything I do, Y/N,” he cut in, his voice firm. “I need you to just—let me breathe.”

The words hit harder than you expected.

Let me breathe.

Like being with you was suffocating him.

You swallowed, stepping back. “That’s what you think I’m doing? Smothering you?”

Jake’s expression faltered for a second, but he didn’t take it back. He didn’t correct himself. And that silence hurt more than anything he could’ve said.

You stared at him, the rain starting to pick up, cold droplets clinging to your hair and clothes. It felt like the world was closing in on you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly alone—even though Jake was standing right in front of you.

“I didn’t say that,” Jake said, but it didn’t sound convincing. “I’m just… tired, okay? And I’m not the only one who’s been acting like this.”

The sharp edge in his voice made you flinch, but you held your ground.

“I don’t want to keep having this conversation,” you said quietly. “I’m tired, too, Jake.”

His gaze softened, but only for a moment, before it hardened again. “Then stop making everything about us. I can’t keep doing this with you.”

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of your lungs.

You took a step back, feeling the wet ground beneath your shoes. “Fine,” you muttered, your voice thin. “Maybe you should just stop pretending to care.”

Jake’s face twisted with frustration, his hands falling to his sides. “Y/N, you’re overreacting—”

“You’re not listening,” you cut in, your words sharp. “You don’t hear what I’m trying to say.”

He stared at you, and for a moment, there was only silence between you, broken only by the soft sound of rain falling.

Then, finally, he spoke. “Fine. If you want to walk home so bad, then go ahead. You can walk home.”

Your heart dropped.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t fight it. There was nothing left to say.

With a final glance at him, you turned and walked away, the rain soaking you even more as the distance between you and Jake grew.

[gildedsilk]

You Can Walk Home 🚙

Pt 2/2.

• Sim Jaeyun x Reader | Wc: 1K+ | Angst, Comfort | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist | Pt 1.

The sound of tires rolling over wet pavement barely registered in your mind until a pair of headlights illuminated the sidewalk ahead of you. The familiar black car slowed to a crawl beside you, the hum of the engine the only thing cutting through the quiet of the night.

You didn’t stop walking.

The passenger-side window rolled down, and Jake’s voice—steady but laced with something you couldn’t quite place—broke through the cold air.

“Get in the car.”

You ignored him, tightening your arms around yourself as you picked up your pace. The rain had started drizzling again, fine droplets clinging to your hair, your clothes, chilling you to the bone.

The car matched your speed.

“Y/N.” His voice was firmer this time, less of a request and more of a demand. “Please.”

That made you stop.

You turned your head, meeting his eyes through the open window. His hands were gripping the steering wheel, knuckles taut, and his jaw was clenched in a way that told you he was frustrated. But beneath all of that, beneath the irritation and the stubbornness, was something else.

Regret.

“You told me to walk home,” you reminded him, your voice quieter than you intended, but it carried the weight of the hurt you felt.

Jake sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before resting it on the gear shift. “I know. I shouldn’t have said that.”

You swallowed hard, fingers digging into your arms. “But you did.”

His grip on the wheel tightened. “I was angry. I didn’t mean it.”

Silence settled between you, heavy and uncertain. The streetlights above cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the way his eyes searched yours, desperate for you to understand.

“I don’t want you walking home alone,” he admitted, softer this time. “Just… get in the car.”

You hesitated. Every ounce of pride in you wanted to keep walking, to make him feel the weight of what he’d said. But at the same time, you were exhausted—emotionally, physically, in every way that mattered. The fight had drained you, and the cold wasn’t helping.

With a sigh, you reached for the car door handle and slid into the passenger seat, the warmth of the car immediately enveloping you. Jake didn’t say anything as he reached over, turning up the heat without a word.

The ride was quiet at first. The sound of rain tapping against the windshield filled the space between you, but the weight of everything unspoken was suffocating.

“I don’t want to keep fighting with you,” he said finally, his hands gripping the wheel. “I don’t want us to get to a point where we say things we don’t mean.”

You stared at your lap, tracing patterns on your jeans. “Then why does it feel like we’re already there?”

Jake exhaled sharply through his nose. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to lose you over it.”

Something in his voice cracked at the end, and for the first time tonight, you let yourself look at him—really look at him. The frustration was still there, but beneath it was something raw. Something vulnerable.

“We need to talk,” you said, voice steady.

Jake nodded, his grip loosening on the wheel. “Yeah. We do.”

And for the first time that night, it felt like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t walking away from each other after all.

The rest of the drive home was quiet—not the heavy, suffocating silence from earlier, but something softer. Tentative. Like the space between you both was fragile, held together by the things left unsaid.

Jake’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel, a nervous habit you’d seen countless times, but tonight it felt different. Less like restlessness, more like hesitation. Like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

You stared out the window, watching the streetlights blur past, your thoughts tangled in everything that had happened. The fight. The words you didn’t mean. The ones that still hurt anyway.

When Jake finally pulled into the driveway, he cut the engine but didn’t move. Neither did you.

For a moment, it was just the sound of the rain, the occasional drip of water sliding off the roof of the car.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Come inside?” His voice was careful, like he wasn’t sure if you’d say no.

You exhaled slowly, fingers gripping the hem of your sleeve before you nodded. “Yeah.”

The two of you stepped out into the cold, the rain light but still enough to make you shiver. Jake didn’t hesitate this time—he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders before unlocking the front door.

The warmth of the apartment wrapped around you as you stepped inside. It smelled like him—like cedarwood and something undeniably Jake. Familiar. Safe.

You slipped off your shoes, still holding his jacket tightly around yourself as you followed him into the living room. He stood there for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, before finally turning to face you.

“We should talk,” he said quietly.

You nodded, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his jacket. “I know.”

A heavy sigh left his lips as he ran a hand through his damp hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice laced with exhaustion. “For everything. For what I said. I shouldn’t have—” He exhaled sharply. “I shouldn’t have told you to walk home.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “That’s not the part that hurt the most, Jake.”

His brows furrowed, his gaze searching yours. “Then what was?”

You hesitated, but you had to say it. You couldn’t keep holding it in.

“The way you made it seem like I’m just… too much. Like I’m always picking fights when all I’ve been trying to do is get you to talk to me.” Your voice was quieter now, but steady. “Lately, it feels like you’re somewhere else even when you’re right in front of me. And I don’t know how to fix that if you won’t let me.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, and for a moment, you thought he might shut down again.

But then he let out a shaky breath. “You’re not too much,” he said, stepping closer. “I promise you, you’re not.”

“Then why does it feel like you’ve been pulling away?”

He exhaled, rubbing his temples before finally meeting your gaze again. “Because I’m scared, Y/N.”

That made you pause. “Scared?”

Jake let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah. Scared that I’m gonna mess this up. Scared that one day you’re gonna wake up and realize I’m not enough for you.” His voice dropped, softer now. “So I started shutting down without even realizing it. I thought maybe if I didn’t say the wrong thing, if I just kept things light, I wouldn’t ruin this. But I was ruining it anyway, wasn’t I?”

Your heart clenched. You hadn’t expected that.

“Jake…” You took a step forward, closing the space between you. “You are enough. You always have been.”

His eyes flickered with something raw, something vulnerable, and it made your chest ache.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Then don’t push me away.”

Jake stared at your joined hands for a moment before his grip tightened, like he was afraid to let go.

“I won’t,” he promised. “I swear, I won’t.”

For a few seconds, neither of you moved. Then, finally, Jake pulled you in—slowly, cautiously, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t. You went willingly, melting against him as his arms wrapped tightly around you.

He buried his face in your shoulder, exhaling deeply like he was finally letting go of something heavy. You held him just as tightly, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm.

“I love you,” he murmured against your skin, the words soft but certain.

Your breath hitched.

He’d said it before, but tonight it felt different. Like a reassurance. A reminder. A promise.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands sliding up to cradle his face. His skin was warm beneath your fingertips, his expression open in a way that made your chest tighten.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

A breath of relief escaped him, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you. Slow and deep, like he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t put into words into this moment.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers tangling in his damp hair, holding him as close as possible.

By the time you pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, breath mingling in the quiet of the room.

Jake let out a small, almost sheepish laugh. “So… I guess we’re okay?”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Yeah,” you said softly. “We’re okay.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you into his warmth, and for the first time that night, the weight between you disappeared.

The fight was behind you. The words were forgiven. And as Jake pressed one last kiss to your forehead, you knew that whatever happened next, you’d face it together.

[gildedsilk]

Before Midnight 🌕

• Wakatoshi Ushijima x Reader | Wc: 800+ | Slight angst, Fluff | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist

The night had been a blur of half-hearted smiles and missed glances, tension thick between you and Ushijima. The fight earlier had been small—something trivial, really—but it lingered, a quiet storm cloud over what was supposed to be a joyful celebration.

“You could’ve told me sooner,” you’d said earlier, your voice sharper than you intended.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” he replied, his tone steady but distant, the way he always handled conflict. It frustrated you, how composed he stayed while your emotions simmered just below the surface.

Now, as laughter and countdowns filled the air, the tension between you hadn’t completely dissolved. You stood at opposite sides of the room for most of the night, both stubbornly avoiding the other even though your eyes met across the crowd more often than not. His gaze was steady every time, but you looked away, the weight of unresolved feelings prickling at your skin.

Chatter buzzed around you, drinks were passed, and yet you could only think about how off-balance you felt. Normally, Ushijima’s presence anchored you. Tonight, though, it felt like an invisible line tethering you to a frustration you couldn’t quite shake.

“Hey, you good?” one of your friends asked as they passed by.

You forced a small smile and a nod, but your eyes drifted back to him. Ushijima was quiet, sipping on a drink and leaning against the wall. He looked like he belonged in a different world—still, strong, and unbothered by the chaos around him. But his gaze flicked to you, lingering for a moment before he stood and crossed the room.

“Can we talk?” His deep voice was gentle but firm as he reached you, drawing a few curious glances from the people nearby.

You hesitated, then nodded, following him out to the balcony. The cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the warmth of the party. Ushijima turned to face you, his expression unreadable as he studied you.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset earlier,” he began, his tone calm but carrying an edge of something softer. “I didn’t realize it mattered to you.”

“It’s not just about what happened,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “It’s how you brushed it off. Like it wasn’t important.”

He was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. “It’s not that it wasn’t important. I just didn’t know how to handle it.” His honesty caught you off guard, the simplicity of his words diffusing some of your lingering frustration.

“I just… I hate when we fight,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened as he took a step closer. “Me too.”

The door behind you swung open, letting a wave of noise spill onto the balcony as someone called out, “The countdown’s starting!”

You followed Ushijima back inside, the two of you standing closer now, his arm loosely draped around your shoulders. The room was electric with excitement, the countdown echoing in every corner.

“Ten… nine…”

The tension from earlier still lingered, but it felt lighter now, like a weight you were finally ready to let go of. Ushijima leaned down slightly, his lips brushing your ear. “Are you okay?”

You looked up at him, your heart squeezing at the concern etched into his features. “I’m okay,” you said, offering him a small smile.

“Five… four…”

He shifted, turning fully toward you, his broad shoulders shielding you from the chaos of the party. His hand rested on your face, thumb brushing against your cheek as he leaned down, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Three… two…”

“Come here,” he murmured, and before the final cheer erupted, his lips found yours.

The kiss was steady, grounding, and full of quiet reassurance. It wasn’t rushed or showy—he kissed you like he always did, with intention, as if nothing else in the world mattered but you. His other hand rested on your waist, drawing you closer as the distant sound of fireworks erupted outside.

When he finally pulled back, his brow rested gently against yours. “Happy New Year,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

You smiled despite yourself, the tension between you dissolving like snow under the sun. “Happy New Year,” you replied, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers.

The night felt brighter now, the lingering frustrations replaced by quiet understanding. With Ushijima’s unwavering presence grounding you, you knew that whatever the year brought, you’d face it together.

[gildedsilk]

Ice Skating ⛸

• Roronoa Zoro x Reader | Wc: 300+ | Fluff | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist

Zoro had made it clear from the start—he didn’t care for the holidays. The decorations, the singing, the overly cheerful atmosphere—it wasn’t for him. But when you practically dragged him off the Thousand Sunny and into the bustling, snow-covered market of a small winter island, he didn’t put up as much of a fight as you’d expected.

"You’re impossible," he muttered as you thrust a pair of ice skates into his hands, your face lit with excitement.

"And you’re grumpy," you shot back, grinning. "But that’s not going to stop me."

Zoro grumbled the whole walk to the frozen pond, but the moment you stepped onto the ice, your laughter was enough to make him pause. You wobbled, arms flailing as you tried to find your balance, and he couldn’t hide the smirk that tugged at his lips.

"You're terrible at this," he said, stepping onto the ice like it was solid ground.

"Show-off," you huffed, sticking your tongue out at him.

Despite his protests, Zoro ended up catching you more than once, his strong arms steadying you every time you started to fall. And though he tried to hide it, there was a softness in his eyes, a quiet amusement as he watched you skate circles around him—literally and figuratively.

By the time the sun began to set, casting the snow in a golden glow, Zoro wasn’t grumbling anymore. He’d even managed a small, rare laugh when you nearly toppled over for the fifth time.

"You’re lucky I like you," he muttered, helping you off the ice.

You grinned up at him, your cheeks flushed from the cold. "I know. And admit it—you had fun."

He didn’t answer, but the faint smirk on his face and the way he slung his jacket over your shoulders as you walked back to the ship said enough.

[gildedsilk]

Handmade Comfort 📍

• Takashi Mitsuya x Reader | Wc: 800+ | Fluff | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist

The rain had started earlier that afternoon, a steady drizzle at first that quickly turned into a downpour. By the time evening rolled around, the apartment was surrounded by the sound of raindrops pounding against the windows and the occasional whistle of the wind. Inside, the world felt small, quiet, and warm—a stark contrast to the storm outside.

Mitsuya was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by spools of thread and small fabric scraps, his sewing machine humming softly in the background. His lavender eyes were focused, the glow of the desk lamp casting a halo of light over his concentrated expression. The sight of him working always had a calming effect on you.

You, on the other hand, were cocooned in a blanket on the couch, a steaming mug of tea nestled in your hands. The heat seeped through your fingers, and you sighed contentedly as you watched him work.

“I swear you haven’t moved from that spot all day,” you teased, breaking the comfortable silence.

Mitsuya glanced up, his lips curving into a soft smile. “I could say the same about you,” he replied, his voice light. “At least I’m being productive.”

You gasped, feigning offense as you tightened the blanket around your shoulders. “I’m keeping you company. That’s productive.”

His laugh was soft, barely louder than the rain outside, but it filled the room with warmth. “Fair enough,” he conceded, leaning back to stretch. As he did, you caught a glimpse of the project he’d been working on—a sweater in a soft, earthy tone, the yarn thick and warm-looking.

“Is that… for me?” you asked, setting your mug down and leaning forward.

Mitsuya shrugged, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Maybe. You’ve been complaining about how cold it’s been, so I figured I’d make something that suits you. No big deal.”

Your heart swelled, and you slid off the couch to sit beside him. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the way his lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile. “It’s nothing,” he said, his voice softer now. “I just like taking care of you.”

You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder as he picked up the sweater again, his hands moving deftly as he threaded the fabric through the machine. The steady hum of the sewing machine mixed with the rain, creating a soothing backdrop to your quiet moment together.

“What about you?” he asked after a while, his voice breaking the silence. “Are you warm enough?”

You nodded, but the small shiver that passed through you betrayed the truth. Mitsuya noticed immediately, pausing his work to drape the unfinished sweater over your shoulders. The fabric was soft and warm, smelling faintly of him.

“Better?” he asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You nodded again, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Much.”

Mitsuya leaned back, resting his weight on his hands as he watched you. The corners of his mouth lifted into a fond smile, and his gaze softened in that way that always made your heart skip a beat.

“You know,” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “I never really liked rainy days. They always felt… heavy. But with you here, they’re kind of nice.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you turned to face him fully, wrapping the blanket around the both of you. “Rainy days aren’t so bad when you’re with someone who makes you feel warm,” you said softly.

His hand found yours beneath the blanket, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Exactly,” he murmured, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. The storm outside raged on, but inside, the world was soft and still. Mitsuya eventually picked up his sewing again, working with one hand while the other remained laced with yours.

By the time the sweater was finished, the rain had lessened to a gentle drizzle, and the clock had crept well past midnight. Mitsuya helped you slip the sweater on, his hands brushing against your skin as he adjusted the fabric.

“Perfect,” he said, stepping back to admire his work.

You laughed, spinning slowly to show off the sweater. “You’re unbelievable,” you said, your voice full of affection. “I’m never taking this off.”

“Good,” he replied, pulling you close again. “That was the point.”

As the rain continued to fall softly outside, you nestled into Mitsuya’s arms, the weight of the world melting away in the warmth of his quiet love.

[gildedsilk]

The Storm 🌨

• Keisuke Baji x Reader | Wc: 2K+ | Angst, Fluff | Suggestive | PG-13 ༻

༺ Materlist

The cabin had been Mikey’s idea. A winter getaway, he’d said—a chance for everyone to relax, let loose, and have fun before the chaos of real life crept back in. The group had rented a cozy, snow-covered cabin in the woods, with just enough space for everyone to cram inside. You’d arrived early in the afternoon with Baji, Chifuyu, Draken, and the rest of the gang, hauling in bags of snacks, drinks, and supplies.

The night had started like any other get-together: laughter, teasing, and way too much alcohol. The air was filled with the sound of Mikey and Draken arguing over whose turn it was to pick the music while Chifuyu tried (and failed) to get everyone to settle down for a game of cards. Baji, naturally, had made it his mission to drink everyone else under the table, and for some reason, you’d decided to keep up with him.

"Y/N, you’re going to regret this," Chifuyu had warned as you took another shot, but you’d waved him off with a grin, matching Baji drink for drink.

The night blurred together after that—hazy memories of loud laughter, clinking glasses, and Mikey doing an impromptu dance that left everyone in stitches. The snow outside had been falling steadily, but no one had paid it much attention. By the time the group decided to call it a night and head back to their homes or lodgings nearby, you and Baji were already passed out on the couch, a heap of blankets thrown haphazardly over the two of you.

"Should we wake them?" Chifuyu had asked, glancing at your sleeping forms with a mix of amusement and concern.

"Nah," Mikey said, smirking as he zipped up his coat. "Let them sleep it off. They’ll wake up in the morning and catch up with us."

And with that, everyone filed out into the snowy night, leaving the cabin quiet except for the faint crackling of the dying fire and the soft sound of your and Baji’s breathing.

🌨

You didn’t wake up until the sun was already high in the sky, streaming weakly through the frosted windows. The first thing you noticed was the pounding in your head, a dull, persistent throb that made you groan and pull the blanket tighter around yourself. The second thing you noticed was how cold it was. Despite the fire having burned low, the cabin had grown chilly overnight, and you could feel the icy air biting at your skin.

The third thing you noticed was Baji.

He was still sprawled on the couch beside you, his long hair a tangled mess and his mouth slightly open as he snored softly. His arm was thrown over his face, shielding his eyes from the light. You sat up slowly, your movements sluggish, and glanced around the room, trying to piece together what had happened the night before.

"Where is everyone?" you muttered, your voice hoarse.

At that moment, Baji stirred, groaning as he shifted onto his side. "Ugh, what time is it?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"I have no idea," you said, rubbing your temples. "But I think everyone’s gone."

Baji opened one eye, squinting at you. "Gone?" He pushed himself up, wincing as he rubbed the back of his neck. "What do you mean, gone?"

You gestured to the empty room, the absence of jackets and boots by the door making it clear. "They left. We must’ve slept through it."

Baji frowned, looking around as if expecting Mikey or Chifuyu to pop out of nowhere and yell "Surprise!" But the cabin was silent, save for the faint sound of the wind outside.

Then, as if on cue, a loud gust of wind rattled the windows, drawing both of your gazes. The snow outside was no longer falling gently—it was a full-blown blizzard, the world beyond the glass an endless sea of white.

"Shit," Baji muttered, standing up and walking over to the window. He pressed a hand to the frosted glass, his brows furrowing as he took in the storm. "They really left us in this?"

You stood up, wrapping the blanket around yourself as you joined him. "Maybe they didn’t know it was going to get this bad," you said, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

Baji huffed, his breath fogging up the glass. "Great. We’re stuck here."

You glanced at him, taking in his disheveled appearance, and couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "Could be worse," you said lightly.

He turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How?"

"You could’ve been stuck here alone," you teased, earning a snort from him.

"Right," he said dryly, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Because being stuck with you is so much better."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond, turning back to the window. The snowstorm showed no signs of letting up, and a small knot of unease began to form in your chest. This was supposed to be a simple camping trip, a fun getaway with friends. But now, it was just you and Baji, trapped in a cabin with no idea how long the storm would last.

"Guess we’ll have to wait it out," Baji said, running a hand through his hair.

You nodded, your breath fogging up the glass as you stared out into the swirling snow. "Yeah," you said softly. "Just the two of us.

🌨

The storm showed no signs of stopping. Hours passed, and the cabin grew colder despite the fire roaring in the hearth. You and Baji had managed to scrounge up some instant ramen from the supplies left behind, but the silence between you made it hard to enjoy even the simplest meal.

Baji sat cross-legged by the fire, his sharp features bathed in the flickering glow. His long hair was pulled into a messy half-ponytail, and his jacket hung loosely off his shoulders. He had barely said a word since the two of you realized you were stuck, which was strange—Baji always had something to say.

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. "You’re awfully quiet," you said, breaking the silence. "I thought you’d be complaining by now."

He glanced at you, his dark eyes unreadable. "What’s the point? Complaining’s not gonna fix the storm."

"True," you said softly, though his tone made your chest tighten.

The silence stretched again, heavy and awkward. You stared at the fire, watching as the flames danced and crackled. The warmth should’ve been comforting, but all it did was remind you how small the cabin was, how close you and Baji were, and how much tension seemed to hang in the air.

Finally, Baji sighed and stood up, brushing off his hands. "I’m gonna check outside. See how bad it is."

You frowned. "Baji, it’s a blizzard. You can’t—"

"I’ll just look," he cut you off, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

Before you could argue further, he was gone, stepping into the swirling white. You stared after him, your heart pounding in frustration and something else you couldn’t quite name. Why was he being so cold? Why did it feel like there was something unspoken hanging between you?

When he returned, his hair dusted with snow and his cheeks flushed from the cold, he looked even more frustrated than before. He slammed the door shut behind him, brushing off the snow before tossing his coat aside.

"Yeah, it’s bad," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We’re not going anywhere anytime soon."

You bit your lip, watching him pace the room like a caged animal. "Baji, what’s your deal?"

He stopped mid-step, his head snapping toward you. "What?"

"You’ve been acting weird all day," you said, standing up. "Ever since we woke up, it’s like you don’t even want to be here."

He scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, well, maybe I don’t."

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you just stared at him, your chest tightening. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Baji avoided your gaze, his jaw tightening. "Forget it," he muttered, turning away.

"No," you said firmly, stepping closer. "You don’t get to say something like that and just walk away. What’s going on with you?"

He stopped in his tracks, his shoulders tense. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, and you thought he might just leave the room. But then he turned back to you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"What’s going on with me?" he said, his voice low and rough. "How about what’s going on with you? Acting like nothing’s wrong, like you don’t feel it too."

"Feel what?" you asked, though your voice wavered.

Baji laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You know exactly what I’m talking about."

You stared at him, your heart pounding. The room felt too small, too hot, and you suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. But you couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t ignore the way his words made your chest ache.

"Baji, I don’t—"

"That night," he interrupted, stepping closer. His voice was sharper now, his frustration bubbling over. "You remember it. Don’t pretend like you don’t."

Your breath caught in your throat. Of course, you remembered. The night you’d both had one drink too many, and Baji had leaned in close, his face inches from yours. The night you’d almost kissed.

The night you’d pulled away.

"I remember," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Baji’s expression softened for a moment, but the hurt in his eyes remained. "Then why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you—"

"Because I didn’t know what to say!" you cut him off, your voice trembling. "I didn’t know what it meant, or if it even meant anything to you. And I didn’t want to ruin what we have."

"What we have," Baji repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. "What do we even have, Y/N? You can’t keep acting like nothing’s changed. Like I don’t—"

He stopped himself, clenching his jaw as if the words were too much to say.

You took a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "Baji, I’m scared," you confessed, your voice breaking.

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension between you seemed to waver. "You think I’m not?" he said quietly. "You think I don’t wake up every day wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do about this? About you?"

The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in Baji’s usual tough exterior. He wasn’t angry—he was scared, just like you.

The storm outside raged on, the wind howling as if it could tear the cabin apart. But inside, the two of you stood frozen, caught in the eye of a different kind of storm.

And neither of you knew how to find your way out.

Baji let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his tangled hair as he took a step back. His lips pressed into a thin line, like he was holding himself back from saying more.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not for warmth but as if it might hold you together. "I don’t know what you want me to say," you admitted, your voice shaky. "I don’t know how to fix this."

"I don’t need you to fix it," he snapped, then softened, his shoulders slumping. "I just need you to stop pretending like nothing’s wrong."

His words made your chest tighten, and you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill. "I wasn’t pretending," you said quietly. "I was trying to protect what we have. I didn’t want to lose you, Baji."

He scoffed, though there was no malice in it—just a raw kind of pain. "You think not talking about it makes it better? You think ignoring it makes it go away?"

You shook your head, frustrated and overwhelmed. "What was I supposed to do? Risk everything? What if I’m wrong? What if you don’t—"

"Don’t what?" Baji cut you off, his voice sharp. "Feel the same way?"

The room felt impossibly quiet after his words, the fire crackling softly in the background. You stared at him, your heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest.

"Do you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Baji didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let out a slow breath, his gaze dropping to the floor. For a moment, you thought he might dodge the question entirely, but then he looked up at you, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes was enough to steal your breath.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I do."

The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Your knees felt weak, and you stumbled back a step, gripping the back of the couch for support.

"Baji..." you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

"I’m not saying it to make things harder," he said, his voice steady now. "I’m saying it because it’s the truth. And because I’m tired of pretending like it doesn’t matter."

Your throat felt tight, and you struggled to find the right words. The fear that had kept you silent for so long was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind. But now, standing here with Baji, the storm raging outside, you realized that fear didn’t matter anymore.

"What if we ruin everything?" you asked, your voice trembling.

Baji’s expression softened, and he took a cautious step closer. "What if we don’t?" he countered. "What if this is worth it?"

The vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you, throwing your arms around him.

Baji froze for a moment, caught off guard, but then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. He smelled like smoke and winter, and you buried your face in his chest, letting out a shaky breath.

"I’m scared," you admitted again, your voice muffled against him.

"I know," he said quietly, resting his chin on top of your head. "Me too."

The storm outside howled, but inside the cabin, it felt like the two of you were in your own little world. Baji’s arms tightened around you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on your chest began to lift.

"I don’t know what’s going to happen," you said softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

"Neither do I," he admitted, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips. "But we’ll figure it out."

His words made something inside you ache, but it wasn’t fear—it was hope.

"You promise?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

Baji nodded, his eyes meeting yours. "Yeah," he said firmly. "I promise."

For the first time since you’d woken up, you felt like you could breathe.

Baji’s promise hung in the air between you, his dark eyes locked onto yours. The tension that had simmered all night finally snapped, leaving a stillness that felt heavier than the storm outside.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead, you reached up, your hand brushing against his cheek, your touch hesitant but lingering. His breath hitched, and you felt him lean into your touch just slightly, as if he were afraid to want it too much.

"Baji..." you whispered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t respond, not with words. Instead, his hand came up to cover yours, his calloused fingers warm against your skin. His eyes flickered between yours and your lips, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest.

Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, the space between you narrowing until his forehead rested lightly against yours. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "If you don’t want this...tell me to stop."

You couldn’t. You didn’t want to. Instead, you tilted your head just slightly, your breath mingling with his as you closed the distance.

When his lips met yours, it was slow—tentative, almost unsure. But the hesitation didn’t last long. The kiss deepened, growing fiercer, more desperate, as if the storm inside you both had finally found its outlet.

Baji’s hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of his kiss—it was overwhelming, consuming. The world outside the cabin seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other.

His lips moved against yours with a fiery urgency, as though he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than either of you had admitted. When he pulled back, just slightly, it was only to catch his breath, his forehead still pressed against yours.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper.

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still resting on his shoulders. "I might have some idea."

He grinned, that lopsided, mischievous smile that always managed to make your heart skip a beat. But there was something softer in his eyes now, something vulnerable that made your chest ache.

"Guess being stuck here wasn’t so bad after all," he said, his thumb brushing gently against your waist.

You smiled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "No," you said quietly, your voice steady now. "It wasn’t bad at all."

The fire crackled in the hearth, the storm howling outside, but all you could feel was Baji’s warmth, his touch, his presence. And for the first time in a long time, the fear and uncertainty faded away, replaced by something far stronger.

Hope.

That hope was accompanied by a new kind of tension when you heard him murmur, "Guess we’ve got some time to kill... and it’s just the two of us."

The way his hands slid down to rest firmly on your hips, his thumbs brushing your sides, sent a shiver through you. His tone was casual, but the look in his eyes told a different story—dark and intent, like he was daring you to close the distance again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you let out a nervous laugh, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. "Baji, seriously?"

"What?" he said, his voice low, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "I’m just saying. We’re stuck here. Might as well... make the most of it."

The suggestive edge to his words made your heart race, and you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. But there was no mistaking the tenderness in his touch or the way his gaze softened when he looked at you.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, though you didn’t pull away.

"And you’re not denying it," he shot back, leaning in just enough for his nose to brush yours.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. "Guess we’ll see how long this storm lasts."

His grin widened, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he tightened his grip just slightly, grounding you in the moment. And as the firelight flickered around you, the storm raging beyond the walls, you couldn’t deny that being trapped here didn’t seem so bad after all.

[gildedsilk]

Be Mine ❤️

• Enhypen OT7 x Reader | Wc: 600+ | Fluff | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist

༺ Heeseung

Heeseung wants to be confident about it, but when the time comes, he gets a little shy. He spends days thinking about the perfect way to ask you, even considering writing a song, but ultimately, he keeps it classic. On Valentine’s Day, he casually hands you a small box with a silver bracelet inside. “It reminded me of you,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. Before you can react, he smirks and adds, “Oh, and by the way… be my Valentine?” He plays it cool, but his ears are bright red.

༺ Jay

Jay believes in doing things properly. He shows up at your place with a bouquet of roses and a box of handmade chocolates (yes, he made them himself). “I wasn’t sure what kind of chocolate you like, so I tried a few different ones,” he says, watching for your reaction. Once he’s sure you like them, he clears his throat and formally asks, “So… will you be my Valentine?” The way he says it, like he’s been waiting forever, makes your heart skip a beat.

༺ Jake

Jake is excited but also a little nervous. He spends the whole day hyping himself up and finally decides to make it fun. He gets a heart-shaped balloon, ties it to a small stuffed puppy (because, of course, it reminds him of Layla), and writes a note: "You make my heart race. Be my Valentine?" He finds you and hands it over with the biggest, brightest smile. “I figured I’d go all out,” he laughs. “Did it work?”

༺ Sunghoon

Sunghoon acts nonchalant, but in reality, he spent forever figuring out what to do. In the end, he settles on a subtle but effective approach. He casually hands you a cup of coffee with "Be my Valentine?" written on the sleeve. When you look up at him in surprise, he shrugs. “It’s not a big deal or anything,” he says, but he refuses to meet your eyes. If you tease him about blushing, he’ll deny it, but his ears say otherwise.

༺ Sunoo

Sunoo goes all out because why not? He sets up a mini scavenger hunt for you with little notes leading to a final gift—a heart-shaped cake he made himself. When you reach the last clue, he’s standing there with a bright grin and a sign that says "Say yes?" in pink sparkly letters. “I had to make it cute,” he says, giggling. “So… do I get to be your Valentine?” He acts playful, but he’s holding his breath, waiting for your answer.

༺ Jungwon

Jungwon doesn’t want to make things too obvious, but he also wants it to be meaningful. He handwrites a note and carefully places it in a small envelope along with a keychain of something you love. When he finally gathers the courage to give it to you, he watches your expression nervously. “I, um… I wanted to do something simple,” he admits. “But… will you be my Valentine?” His eyes are full of hope, and you can tell how much thought he put into it.

༺ Ni-Ki

Ni-Ki pretends it’s not a big deal but is secretly stressing over it. He ends up doing something bold—challenging you to a game. “If I win, you have to be my Valentine,” he declares confidently. But when he loses on purpose (very obviously), he groans and hands you a small, folded note anyway. "Even if I lost… would you still say yes?" He tries to play it cool, but when you smile at him, he can't hide the excitement on his face.

[gildedsilk]

Ribbon 🎗

• Tobio Kageyama x Reader | Wc: 600+ | Fluff | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist

The snow fell softly outside, blanketing the world in a quiet, peaceful hush. Inside, the warm glow of string lights flickered against the walls, the scent of cinnamon and pine in the air. It was a rare moment, just you and Kageyama, tucked away in his apartment after a busy practice session with the team.

He was sitting next to you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched you carefully tie the delicate red ribbon around the small gift you had wrapped for him.

"You don't have to keep it all neat," Kageyama said, his voice soft, uncharacteristically gentle in the cozy atmosphere. "It's just a ribbon."

You glanced up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. "It's not just a ribbon," you teased, "It's a part of the gift. It has to look nice."

Kageyama huffed, his brows furrowing in mild confusion as he leaned back against the couch, his eyes not quite meeting yours. He was never one for the fluff and frills of things, but you could tell he appreciated your thoughtfulness. He couldn’t say it outright, but the way his eyes softened when he looked at the ribbon, the way his fingers briefly traced the edges of the paper, made it clear.

After a moment of silence, you finished tying the ribbon in a perfect bow and held the gift out to him. "Here," you said with a small, shy smile. "It’s for you."

Kageyama looked at the gift with a blank expression at first. But when his gaze flickered back to you, there was something different in his eyes — something warm, like the way the fireplace crackled softly in the corner.

"Thanks," he said, voice a little quieter than usual as he gingerly accepted the package. His fingers brushed against yours, a brief but soft touch. "You didn’t have to…"

You shrugged, leaning back against the couch as you caught his gaze. "I wanted to," you said simply.

For a moment, Kageyama didn’t say anything. Then, to your surprise, he reached forward and gently tugged at the ribbon. The bow came undone, and the ribbon unraveled, sliding off the gift. He held the ribbon up between his fingers and, without a word, draped it around your wrist, tying it in a loose but thoughtful knot.

"You always make everything look perfect," he muttered, avoiding your eyes. "Even something as simple as this."

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you stared at the ribbon now adorning your wrist. "Kageyama…" you whispered, touched by the unexpected gesture.

He didn’t say anything else, but there was a faint flush creeping up his neck as he leaned back on the couch, his eyes now fixed on the snow outside, pretending to ignore the warm flutter in his chest.

You looked at the ribbon on your wrist, a small, content smile forming on your face. Even the simplest things, like a ribbon, could hold so much meaning when shared with someone you cared about. And with Kageyama, everything felt a little more perfect, even if he was the last person to admit it.

[gildedsilk]

Tendou with a s/o that plays volleyball in America. I love volleyball and my man like my life depends on it ngl... Like he goes to her games, she comes to his, something cute like that and add on anything else you like. Thanks for the request btw <3

Across the Net 🏐

• Satori Tendou x Reader | Wc: 800+ | Fluff | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist

The faint hum of the crowd buzzed through your earbuds, Tendou’s voice breaking through with dramatic flair. “And here we have the unstoppable force themselves, ready to dominate the court!” he narrated like a sports announcer, his tone dripping with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Tendou,” you whispered, stealing a glance at your teammates as they warmed up nearby, “stop making me laugh! I’m supposed to look intimidating here.”

“Intimidating? You’re cute when you’re focused,” he shot back, chuckling softly. “But don’t worry, the other team’s already shaking. You’ve got this.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as the referee’s whistle echoed across the court. “Okay, I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you after.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” he teased, his grin practically audible.

Later, when you finally checked your phone, there was a video waiting for you. Tendou had filmed himself reacting to your match from the couch, his over-the-top antics making you laugh out loud. “LOOK AT THAT SPIKE!” he shouted, dramatically flinging himself backward like he’d been hit. “UNSTOPPABLE! MVP!”

Your teammates glanced over, curious. “What’s so funny?”

“Just Tendou being… Tendou,” you replied with a grin, already looking forward to the next call.

When the roles were reversed and you managed to visit Japan during the off-season, Tendou wasted no time dragging you to his matches. Watching him play live was a whole different experience—his energy was infectious, his quick reflexes mesmerizing. You couldn’t help but cheer loudly from the stands, much to the amusement of his teammates.

“That’s my Tendou!” you shouted when he blocked a particularly tricky spike.

He turned his head toward the sound of your voice, a wide grin stretching across his face as he threw up a celebratory fist. Later, when the match was over, he made a beeline for you, still in his jersey and absolutely drenched in sweat.

“You saw that block, right? I was like bam!” He mimed slamming the ball back with exaggerated flair.

“I saw,” you said, laughing as you tried to dodge the inevitable hug. “And now I smell it, too.”

“Victory sweat, my love,” he teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulders despite your protests. “You’re lucky to be this close to greatness.”

The shared love for volleyball made quiet days together just as fun. Tendou was always eager to get you back on the court, challenging you to drills and playful matches. He’d taunt you every chance he got.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he called, after you barely managed to return his serve. “I thought America was supposed to toughen you up.”

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” you shot back, determination blazing in your eyes as you sent the ball flying his way.

After hours of playful competition, the two of you would collapse onto the court, your laughs echoing in the quiet gym.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast the court in warm, golden light, Tendou leaned back on his hands and glanced at you. There was a softness in his smile, a rare, genuine moment of quiet between his usual antics.

“You know, I wouldn’t trade this for anything,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically low. “The calls, the matches, the waiting… all of it’s worth it if it means we get moments like this.”

You leaned against his shoulder, a content smile on your face. “I feel the same way. Even when you’re insufferable.”

Tendou gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Insufferable? Me? Babe, I’m a delight.”

“You’re something, all right,” you teased.

But the teasing gave way to comfortable silence, the two of you basking in the connection you’d built—one that spanned miles, games, and time zones.

[gildedsilk]

Bowling 🎳

• Wumuti x Reader | Wc: 1K+ | Fluff | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist

The evening sky was painted in hues of deep purple and navy, the city lights twinkling like stars beneath the sprawling darkness. You’d been looking forward to tonight all week—after all, it wasn’t every day you got the chance to spend time with someone as effortlessly captivating as Wumuti.

You arrived at the bowling alley a little earlier than planned, pacing the lobby nervously, the sound of pins clattering in the distance filling the air. The neon lights buzzed above you, casting a playful glow over the lanes. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched a couple of kids eagerly waiting for their turn, trying to hold the heavy bowling balls with all their might.

A few moments later, Wumuti strolled in, his tall frame impossible to miss. His eyes lit up when he saw you, his lips curling into that familiar, easy grin. He was dressed casually, a hoodie and jeans that fit him perfectly, giving him an effortlessly cool aura that still made your heart race every time you saw him.

“Hey, you’re here early,” he said with a soft chuckle, his voice warm and comforting as he approached. He slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a brief side hug. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” you responded, smiling up at him. “I couldn’t wait. Bowling’s always been fun, but I’m sure with you, it’ll be even better.”

Wumuti raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Oh? You think I’ll make this interesting, huh?” he teased, his voice light, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.

“Definitely,” you replied with a smirk. “Besides, you’ve got that competitive edge, right? I’m expecting nothing less than a fierce competition.”

Wumuti laughed softly, and the sound was like a melody to your ears. “We’ll see about that. But just so you know, I don’t go easy on anyone,” he said, holding up his hands dramatically. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You both made your way over to a lane, picking out your bowling shoes and getting ready for the match. As he slid the shoes onto his feet, you caught a glimpse of his concentration—something about the way he focused on the simplest of tasks was oddly captivating. Even something as casual as bowling seemed to take on an air of elegance when he was around.

The first round started, and as expected, Wumuti was a natural. He picked up the ball with ease, his broad shoulders moving gracefully as he lined up his shot. With a smooth swing, the ball hurtled down the lane, knocking down all ten pins in one clean strike.

“Guess that’s one for me,” he said with a grin, turning back to you.

“Impressive,” you said, your eyes twinkling with amusement. “But don’t get too cocky just yet.”

You stepped up, ready to make your mark. The lane felt different with Wumuti by your side—there was an easy comfort to the way you interacted, like you’d known each other forever. Your ball hit the pins with a satisfying crash, leaving only a few standing.

“Nice try,” he said, leaning against the edge of the lane. “You’ll get them next time.”

The game continued in this manner, with a mix of playful banter, friendly competition, and the occasional cheer from both sides. Wumuti’s laid-back nature made everything feel effortless, but there was no denying the spark between the two of you. His occasional teasing only made you more determined to give him a run for his money. The two of you shared laughs, even during your less-than-perfect throws, and the chemistry was undeniable.

When it was your turn again, you threw the ball a little too hard, sending it veering off to the side. Wumuti raised an eyebrow, watching it roll off course.

“You sure you’re trying?” he joked, his voice filled with mock concern.

“Oh, I’m definitely trying,” you shot back, sticking your tongue out playfully at him. “Just saving my best shot for the end.”

“You’re gonna need it,” he replied, crossing his arms and watching you with a smile that made your heart flutter.

Eventually, you reached the final round, and you were both neck-and-neck in points. Wumuti had kept his cool the entire time, but now, there was a tension in the air—neither of you wanted to back down.

“Ready?” he asked, turning to face you. There was a spark of excitement in his eyes, and something about the way he looked at you in this moment made your stomach flip. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the final throw.

“Ready,” you responded, giving him a determined smile. You walked to your mark, eyes fixed on the pins. As you took the ball in your hands, you felt a rush of confidence. The sound of the ball hitting the lane was followed by the steady roll as it made its way toward the pins. It hit with a satisfying crash, and when the noise died down, you were left staring at the scoreboard.

“Looks like I win,” you said with a triumphant smile.

Wumuti stood there for a moment, eyes still on the screen. But before you could savor the victory, he turned to you with a grin.

“You know,” he said, “I didn’t say I was done with this just yet.” He reached out, pulling you toward him by the waist and dipping you slightly—an unexpected move that caught you off guard. His lips were inches away from yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s just say, I know how to win in other ways too.”

Before you could respond, his lips pressed against yours, soft but full of meaning. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with the promise of something more.

When you pulled away, your breath mingling with his, Wumuti grinned. “I guess we both won tonight.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah. I guess we did.”

As the night wore on, you and Wumuti stayed at the bowling alley, enjoying each other’s company long after the game was over. You didn’t need to win anymore—because in this moment, it was clear that you were both on the same team.

And that was more than enough.

[gildedsilk]

༺ Take a ride with me, 넌 자유롭길 원하, 바람이 어디로든 이끌지, Stop 이름은 버려, Mr. Rover rover rover, I'm coming over over over ༻

𓈒⭑ Enhypen

• Be Mine - Valentine’s Day confessions | OT7

• You Can Walk Home Pt. 1 + Pt. 2 - An argument with your bf | Jake

𓈒⭑ XLOV

• Bowling - A perfect date | Wumuti

• Spring Fever - Your best friend loves you | Haru

𓈒⭑ Haikyuu!!

• Ribbon - Warmth on a snowy day | Tobio Kageyama

• Across the net - Fellow volleyball playing boyfriend | Satori Tendou

• Before Midnight - Make up before 12:00 | Wakatoshi Ushijima

𓈒⭑ Tokyo Revengers

• The Storm - Stuck together during a storm | Keisuke Baji

• Handmade Comfort - A thoughtful gift | Takashi Mitsuya

𓈒⭑ One Piece

• Ice Skating - Convinced boyfriend to ice skate | Roronoa Zoro

More soon…

[gildedsilk]

Thinking about them and how I wanna make a fic for each of them

THEY’RE SO CUTE ARRRGGHH

Since people keep liking this- I wrote a Wumuti fic !! Read it here ❤️. If you like it, think about following me 😛🫶🏽.

[gildedsilk]

The way there’s 0 xlov smut on tumblr as we speak 😔

And I haven’t posted a smut fic yet so 💔

[gildedsilk]

Spring Fever 🌼

• Haru x Reader | Wc: 1K+ | Fluff, slowburn | PG-13 ༻

༺ Masterlist

The warmth of spring had just begun to creep into the air, soft and inviting, like a gentle reminder that the cold was finally behind you. The flowers had started to bloom, their colors vibrant against the lush green backdrop of the park you and Haru frequented. It was your place, the one spot you’d always come back to, whether for a quiet afternoon or to catch up with friends. But lately, it had started to feel different, as though the air around you hummed with an energy that wasn’t there before.

Haru had been acting strange.

It wasn’t anything obvious, but it was there, in the way he’d look at you when you weren’t paying attention, or how his hand lingered just a second too long when he passed you something. You didn’t think much of it at first; Haru was always the affectionate type. He was your best friend, the boy who had been there through thick and thin, laughing and joking with you about everything and nothing at all. But lately, there was something different about the way he smiled, the way he’d catch your eye a little too often. Something deeper.

Today, he was sitting beside you on the park bench, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow across his face. He wore a soft, oversized hoodie that hung off his shoulders, the sleeves rolled up slightly as he absentmindedly twisted a blade of grass between his fingers.

“You’ve been quiet today,” you observed, nudging him with your elbow. “What’s up with you?”

Haru looked up at you, startled, as though he hadn’t realized how long he’d been lost in thought. He flashed you a sheepish smile, one that made your heart flutter in an unfamiliar way.

“Oh, nothing,” he said quickly, looking away. “Just… thinking.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Thinking about what?”

He shrugged, keeping his gaze a little too focused on the ground. “Just stuff,” he mumbled. “Nothing important.”

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced, but you let it slide. Haru wasn’t one to share his thoughts easily, and when he did, it was usually wrapped in layers of awkwardness. You smiled to yourself, thinking that maybe he was just going through one of those phases where he overthought everything. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done that before.

You continued to chat casually, the conversation drifting from one topic to the next. But as the minutes ticked by, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. Haru was quieter than usual, his usual playfulness replaced with a sort of hesitant gentleness. His laughter, which was usually loud and carefree, seemed more subdued today.

As the conversation lulled, you glanced over at him again. His eyes were fixed on you, not in the way a friend would look at another, but with a softness that made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Haru,” you started, your voice a little softer than usual, “what’s really going on with you?”

He blinked, startled, as though he hadn’t expected you to ask directly. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out at first. He looked at his hands for a moment, his fingers twitching nervously.

“Y/N, I… I don’t know how to say this,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I think I’ve been… feeling something more. Something different. And I don’t know if it’s just me… or if you feel it too.”

You blinked, your mind racing to keep up with his sudden admission. His gaze was intense, his usual boyish charm replaced with something deeper—something vulnerable. It was like he was exposing a side of himself that he kept hidden away, and it made your heart race a little faster.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice unsure, suddenly feeling like you were in uncharted territory.

Haru hesitated, his gaze shifting to the side as if he was trying to gather his thoughts. “I… I’ve been in love with you for a while now,” he finally admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know when it started, but I’ve been too scared to tell you. I’ve been your friend for so long, and I didn’t want to ruin that. But… I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel this way.”

The words hung in the air between you like a thick fog, and for a moment, time seemed to slow down. You blinked, trying to process what he had just said. Haru—your best friend—had feelings for you. And not just any feelings. He was in love with you.

Your heart raced, but you didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t seen this coming, hadn’t realized that the way Haru acted around you had meant anything more than friendship. Sure, he was sweet and protective, always there for you when you needed him. But to hear him say those words… it was like a dream you didn’t know you were having.

“Haru…” you started, but your words caught in your throat. You didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to crush him under the weight of something he’d obviously carried for so long. But you also didn’t know if you could return those feelings.

Haru looked at you, his eyes wide with uncertainty, as if he was bracing himself for whatever you were about to say. His fingers were clenched tightly around the hem of his hoodie, the fabric bunching in his grip as though he was holding on for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice laced with regret. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… I couldn’t keep it inside anymore.”

Before you could respond, he stood up quickly, his back to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I should go,” he muttered, his voice thick. “I don’t want to make things weird. I just… needed you to know.”

You stood up, your legs trembling as you reached out for him. “Haru, wait.”

He paused, but didn’t turn around. You could feel the distance between you growing with every second that passed, and it felt like the spring air had suddenly turned cold.

“I don’t know what to say,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “But you don’t have to leave.”

Haru turned around, his eyes glassy. “I don’t want to make things awkward for you.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice firm. “You’re my best friend. And that’s not going to change.”

His eyes softened as he took a step toward you. “You’re sure?”

You nodded, smiling gently at him. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Haru’s lips curved into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was enough to make your heart flutter. “I’m sorry for… all of this,” he said softly. “I just couldn’t keep pretending.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you reassured him. “But just so you know… I think I’ve always known.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Known what?”

“That you liked me,” you said with a playful smirk. “It’s kinda hard to miss, Haru.”

His eyes widened as a deep blush spread across his cheeks. “You knew?” he stammered, looking mortified.

You nodded, laughing softly. “Yeah, but I didn’t want to say anything either. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Haru stared at you for a long moment, his face a mix of shock and relief. “So… what now?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

You stepped closer to him, your hand reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Now, we take it one step at a time.”

And for the first time in a long while, you both stood there, just two people caught in the delicate warmth of spring, unsure of where things would go next, but knowing that you would figure it out together.

[gildedsilk]

༺ Who dat, who dat, who dat boy?, 수많은 사람 속 눈에 띈 (aha), 무심한 그 표정 I like that, 내 호기심을 자극하지 (aha, aha) ༻

༺ Oh 시크한 스타일은 덤, 입은 옷은 신경 쓴 듯, 안 쓴 듯 (안 쓴 듯), 관심 없는 말투 I like that, 외면해 봐도 끌려 ooh ༻

[gildedsilk]

Is it bad to write about characters from shows i haven't watched ? Maybe, maybe not . Will I be stopped ? No . 🌸