#heavy rain oneshots

[artem1sc0re]

So I have this idea of a little fluff-based AU me and my partner came up with out of the fact that all I’ve really seen if Norman and his late boyfriend Reilly in terms of fanfiction would be angst or just pure tragedy.

So basically in this AU Norman Jayden is a flower shop owner and his bf Jack Reilly is a coffee shop owner. The two of them bond through a collaboration of Norman helping jack’s small coffee shop flourish through vibrant flowers that grow throughout spring as well as a traditional homey cafe with a warm beverage.

It’s kind of my first time writing something to do with Norman dialogue-wise, so I have no idea whether I’ve got his character right or not; so to get to know his character and perhaps look for criticism, I’ve written a one-shot.

Please provide criticism for dialogue and let me know how I can improve!! ^^

(EDIT: I GOT IT POSTED ON AO3!! Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53010700)

A proposition.

The coffee owner initiates cleanup the moment he feels the presence of frequent visitors is bare as a desert; swiping dirty tables and crumbs sluggishly, missing the ever few stains of bitter coffee but remaining unbothered. Although more sluggish than usual, he remains oblivious to the observing presence of a flower shop owner, following his moves with his soft and admiring expression, gleaming through his sage-green eyes.

Jack gives up at the sign of his blind movement, missing the small bits and bobs of stains and ceramic plates, straying to the spruce counter to slouch over and reflect, covering his cracking facade with his trembling hands.

Norman notices this, perking up curiously as he snaps out of his trance. At the first sign of vulnerability, he gets up from his spot in the corner, heading to check up on the gloomy coffee owner.

“You look downtrodden tonight. What’s eating at you?”

He broke the cold silence that loomed the closed up and dimly lit shop.

Reilly straightens, his startled eyes looking at Norman like he was a deer staring at headlights.

“I-it’s nothing really. Just had a bad day, I guess.” He answered reluctantly.

Although reluctance was shown, he takes his face out of his hands still creating a tremor as if he were watered down to nothing but a bundle of shivers.

“O-okay, maybe there is something that’s ‘eating away at me’, as you put it.” Jack quivered, giving in to his own emotional state.

Norman’s eyes remain on Reilly, waiting for the burdened barista to speak his words, nodding softly as to remain attentive.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. Fuck, everyone’s leaving for the café around the corner. Students who used to study here and used to frequent for a good cuppa’ have vanished, and as I walk, they’re chatting away and working at the ‘haba de café’, as they call it. (I ran out of name ideas.)

I can’t even keep it running with all the cost of good quality beans inflating, or the constant remarks about how the haba de cafe is so much better than this run-down place, with their modern decor of fake and artificial flowers, or posters with LED borders.

I might just shut down this place. Find a new apartment and just work a typical 9-5. It’s tiring trying to keep a positive and optimistic passion for this place, when no one wants to see it.” Jack rambled. His face paints with distraught at the thought of being unable to pursue his passion, instead having to go to a boring job in a cheap apartment.

“Hey. Listen.”

A reassuring hand from Norman lands on Jack’s, causing him to glance at the flower shop owner.

“I’ve seen what this place does, and it has potential. Just because some new coffee shop opened up by some wealthy bastard who wants to leech more money off of loyal customers, doesn’t mean you should put yourself down. If anythin’, you shouldn’t even bother comparing yourself to that place. They’ve got more than one person working, meanwhile you’re a one-man management. You work with enthusiasm and it shows in the drinks and the food just how much love was put into it. It’s why people frequent this place. The quiet atmosphere and the homey aroma of this place is what’s so great about it.” Norman reassured, his tone soft-spoken and attentive.

Jack loosens up, his eyes glancing to the polished countertop, staring at the dim reflection of his inverted counterpart.

“That’s what I intended to create.. a quiet yet homely atmosphere..” He cuts himself off, as if something was ignited in the barista, his eyes lighting up in realisation.

“W-why was i getting so worked up for, in that case? This isn’t about the profit, or gaining money. It was just that I wanted to create this environment, intended for everyone to use, to feel at peace as if they’re just at home, about a hot beverage in the cold winter, creating a warm feeling after a chilly day. I was only getting started! Although.. what can I do? It’s going to remain unchanged even if I regain my love for the relaxed atmosphere of a traditional cafe with hand-brewed coffee.” Jack questioned, glancing at Norman.

“I was thinking of a proposition between you and I. Something that could benefit the both of us.” The florist replied, carefully contemplating the words to say to the coffee shop owner, slowly breaking eye contact with him.

“I could help decorate your place, if you’d like. Since valentine’s is around the corner, as well as spring, the flowers are at their optimum and lovestruck teenagers would be buying roses for their significant others. It could benefit the both of us; allowing promotion of my shop, and attraction to your place.” Norman eventually offered, his observant yet hesitant eyes attempting to gauge the reaction of the barista.

Reilly lit up like a star; the happiest he’s been since he opened the place.

“Are you shitting me?! It’s a perfect idea! It’s just the thing I need! Botany, to add some flourish, life to this place! Externally and internally! You fucking genius!” Reilly grips Norman’s loose hand on his into the form of a handshake, moving it firmly before pulling the florist into a hug.

Norman flinched at the sudden physical showcase of gratitude, but something inside him felt warm, the warmth of being able to possibly revive and bring this cafe back in business.

[spurbleu]

unraveling careful threads

nurse!reader x johnny mactavish (sfw oneshot)

s. johnny finds you where he needs you. wc. 2k for @kentwos, <3

you don’t know what it is about your door, but it seems to beckon chaos.

it has no business being there. on the days you return with sore heels and needle indents on your pointer and thumb, it should not follow you. the military is its ball and chain- two trenches deep behind security fences. it should remain there- you’ve told the damn thing to sit and lie and yet it stalks you to a place of respite.

stray cats pitch on fat paws by your front steps. doorbell ditches- neighborhood boys who strangle their youth. rain.

tonight, its dressed in a bleeding temple and wine cheeks. bruises beneath the porch light and leans against the wood of your door frame. lubberly smile.

“come here often?”

although your concern is sluggish, it waxes the underside of your ribs when he lumbers past you into your living room. you lock the door before following him.

“johnny? what on earth h-“

“jus’ a scuffle. some bam off his rocker- one tae maneh bevvy’s,” he limps across your carpet with a right lean- sobering up slowly as he rummages through your cabinets, “where d’ye keep yer aid?”

whatever brought him to your door had beaten off the drunken stupor. you can’t classify what replaces it, but the shadow of it follows him. wimpish, reeking of pub grease, caramelized liquor, a drying anger.

the lights of your flat soften it.

in fact, it softens him.

unfamiliarity sheets the corners of your vision. him, unmitigated substance- raw sinews that thread thick strands beneath tanned skin are left exposed to the mundane. violence in a butter dish. grisly silt on a vacuumed carpet. a sergeant in cotton.

you’ve seen him only in the context of harsh lines. charcoal draws his boots on concrete, nothing picks the gravel from his teeth, and horizon grays let him taunt grim reapers and their assault rifles. where the world is his adversary and he takes it by the throat. even in the confines of your office, the walls feel as though they’d been sanded on whetstone when he receives a third set of stitches.

delicate looked unnatural on him. johnny was rock. impenetrable, inevitable. a dulled stone, rounded and heavy, bludgeons docile until it’s drying in saline and the vim that grows haphazardly on his knuckles. he did not belong where things were soft, and certainly didn’t fit in your kitchen.

he sends you a look over his shoulder. “ah ken ‘m good lookin, but i could realleh use a bandage.”

you swallow. “what?”

realization funnels through your exhaustion. you’re on leave. so is he. neither of them, given the circumstances and distance, should converge. regardless, he stands beaten to a variant of death, offering you a wilting smile and a flirt.

your eyes narrow. “johnny, why are you here.”

“cannae wounded soldier nae get help from his favorite nurse?”

a cautious step forward. “on base. but this is my house. how-“

“christ bonnie, jus quit it with the interview ‘n give me yer aid,” he rubs his temple and leans against the fridge, “that fuckin bastard.”

the disquiet comes back in a wave.

you’re vaguely acquainted with the state. the lull of anticipation as you sit in the after brood of consequence, sore operative on a stretcher. a mothering silence, rocks you both into placidity. its where you become removed from the outcome of the stitches, the draw of their brow, the blood that gets on your shirt. fades to somewhere beyond the both of you, mental death among other reliefs. lets you work.

but its never there when you look at johnny. never has been.

you’re left so agonizingly present around him. you blamed his sound for years- the resonate baritone in foreign gaelic that forges its way into spaces that cannot fit it (medic rooms, your ears…wayward sentimental thoughts) and how after he’s stopped speaking, it lingers on the back of your neck for hours.

but the longer you’ve known him, you realize it isn’t how loud he is, or the territory of his torso- not even his eyes. it’s the untitled charm that soothes a callous under your skin. you don’t know how to name it, so you let it guide your body to the corner base cabinet, searching for your aid.

because he needs it. and you have never been above giving johnny want he needs.

“go sit down.” there’s a disjointed noise from behind you as you pull the box to the counter.

“’m perfectly capable of-“

“johnny- go sit.”

you feel him staring at your back, but when the kitchen goes quiet, you know he’s done as told. you put the kettle on the back stove and set the heat to low, before walking around the banister back to the living room, where he waits with a pouting lip and a wide sit.

what a charmer.

you set the aid on the coffee table and assess the damage. shallow gash on the right side of his temple, bruising cheekbone that swells his left eye, split lip and a smudge of blood under his nostrils.

you pause where you stand, realizing in order to be productive you’ll have to be up close. you don’t have another chair that won’t risk an unsteady hand. johnny follows your thinking rather quickly for being roughed up and half sober. “my lap donae look comfeh enough for ye, bonnie?”

this little-

out of spite, you plop ungracefully on his right thigh. you hoped- expected- a fragment of surprise. instead, he gives you a loose grin, before gently resting his hands on your hips. the breeze of his fingertips makes you flinch.

“wha-“

“jus’ tryna keep ye steady,” he close one eye, the other full of mirth, “ready for my check up, doc.”

you scoff before pulling out your cotton swabs.

the routine begins. cleaning infections, pinching the skin to prepare it for stitches, breathing slowing. all while trying to ignore the sensation of your hands ghosting over his face, and how when you pull them back, they’re burning, sweating between each gap. all this fuss over how his thumbs mindlessly fiddle with the hem of your sleep shirt.

your fingers are the spiders that web him back together. the lifelines of your palm could never reach him, but you find that he’s already been there. burrows in the vulnerable fissures of your body, your mind, until you’re unravelling while he’s sewn together.  

and yet, you’re anchored. calmed. his discord serves as relief from a world that is inherently boring. you’d feel compelled to thank him if you think he’d understand.

“yer makin tha’ face again.”

you pause the needle before it hits his skin. “what face?”

“yer lip puffs out and yer brows do tis’ ting where d’ey meet n ta’ middle of yer-“ he smiles to himself and loses your eyes, “ye make it when ye need tae focus.”

you squint. “does it bother you?”

he laughs. a deep sound, resonates with the child in you that remembers waves against mercury bluffs, or watching thunder from your bedroom window. awe. having heard them before, and yet they sound foreign every time.

“nae,” he shakes his head softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a classic grin. if you had been standing, your knees would weaken at the gnaw of their blue when he looks at you again, “nae quite ta’ opposite. might be the most beautiful thing i’ve eva’ seen.”

the ceiling fan whirrs above you in a rhythm that matches your heartbeat, the carpet feels decade rough on your socks, and the clock in the corner is quieter than it’s ever been. and it’s all because a man who takes up leagues of space just by smiling called you beautiful.

you’d never say that aloud though. you’d be feeding the thing that makes him that way.  

“you’re hopeless.” is all that you muster.

he smiles, but its without gravity. it’s almost sad. “aye, maybe for ye.”

you lose yourself in the moments you find him like this. pliant, willing, gentle. (is that how cain killed abel? virgin hands wield a rock on innocence? softness weaponizing itself? you’re unsure, but when he meets your eyes for a third time, you’re convinced he’s waiting to kill you with the tender that holds you still on his thigh.)

“this is going to hurt.”

he recoils when you push the needle through the edge of his temple, but relaxes with a labored exhale. suddenly its quiet like it hadn’t been before. a breed of silence where you realize how close you are, how you swallow his breath, and feel the blimp of his pulse on your hip bone.

it doesn’t take long for you to finish closing the tear. when he feels you pull away, he tips his head up to look at you.

“looks like i came tae the righ’ d-“

“why are you out at this hour?”

your interruption is involuntary if anything else, but now that you look at him- half blue and half bloody- the concern you usually remove from patients rears an ugly head and hits the roof of your mouth.

he falters. “wha’d’ye mean?”

you drag your knuckles across his cheek bone and the flesh swelters. plums where other men became sideways and angry- and it’s the cotton in you that can’t help but swipe a thumb over it. he cringes, but you persist until the pad of your thumb cools where it burns. when you find his eyes, you lose something in your lungs.

“I…I know you’re on leave, and your life is your own but…” you pretend to idle your hands over his jaw- looking for any contusions, or perhaps a lifeline that could stabilize you as you rest on his lap, “getting into fights at pubs isn’t exactly the point of a vacation.”

he sighs before looking at your palm, “I…” his voice below a whisper, his stubble barely itching your fingers tells you he’s trying not to startle you,  “I get… antsy. gets me inta’ trouble,” he offers you a clumsy smile, “donae think I’m capable of sittin’ still for very long.”

you steal a look at his lips. they’re not bleeding anymore. you blink. “you’re doing it now.”

he gives you a look like you’re torturing him and your mouth dries. “I’ve got ye on my lap. ay’d be a very, very foolish man, to move now.”

johnny has a way of saying things so simply that you think it’s better if you say nothing at all.

instead you take antiseptic and wipe his stitches clean. the only remnants that remain of night- the swell of his eye, the healing cut on his temple- are now replaced with remnants of you. needle and thread, careful breath, your skin on his.

you didn’t know nursing could ever feel so intimate.

“i’m…you’re all..” you swallow the blue in his eyes like their air, “done.”

he nods, but doesn’t move. in fact, neither of you do.

the lamp light tames the sting of his iris. they can’t startle a paralysis under downy soft yellow. instead, hot blue steel melts you. diminishes the flesh and bone of your second skin. he has a tendency to stare at it until it’s been torn apart and pieced together (the countless times you’ve done it for him under a needle and thread do not compare to what he does with his eyes).

it’s an oddity you’ve grown much to fond of for something that is so inherently finite.

“ah…meant what ‘ah said,” this will not last, “about ye being beautiful.”

it will pass, god let it pass. “Johnny…”

the teapot whistles from the kitchen brings you back to your senses. you cough the penciled fear into your fist and try for a smile. both of you know its not honest.

“sit tight.”

the tea is still warm in your belly as you watch him shuck his coat on his shoulders from your position on the wall. you both remain comfortably mute, in this odd routine that doesn’t feel new at all. despite every experience tonight proving something different, as he stands at your door you’re prompted with an overwhelming rush of deja’vu.

“you sure you’re alright to drive home?” you stifle a yawn. “I know you’ve slept on more uncomfortable surfaces than my couch.”

he laughs, albeit its muddled by his own exhaustion. “very temptin’ bonnie. but i cannae stay- gotta get back to my own.” something other than his own bed is tugging him out the door, but you let a sleeping dog lay (or, an injured sergeant lie).

he opens your door and turns to face you before walking out. you can’t tell if the shiver is from the cold rush of air that hits your bare elbows, or the preserving look he throws your way. “thank ye, bonnie. yer a life saver.”

you smile. “i would say come again, but i feel like that’s redundant.”

he nods. his eyes flit to the space behind you and then back to your face. he pulls his hand from his pocket and tucks a stray behind your ear, and you swear it’s the first time you’ve seen the sergeant properly blush.

“sweet dreams, mm bonnie?”

“yeah. get home safe,” your smile broads, “not keen on staying awake too much longer to fish you out of trouble again.”

he nods, stepping out the threshold of your door. you feel like you’ve lost things tonight but gained something infinitely more important. “goodnight, Johnny.”

“g’night.”

you don’t realize that its yearning until his footfall recedes back into a world that is boundless and without your hands to keep him threaded together.

at least then, he’ll return to you.

[minniesfiles]

PEOPLE LIKE ME

Jeonghan loved you. He loved you in a way that terrified him, in a way that made him selfish and silent and a coward.

❧ PAIRING; jeonghan x reader

❧ GENRE; angst

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; strangers to lovers to strangers, heavy angst, timestamp, oneshot, emotionally unavailable jeonghan, major character death, implied depression, smoking, alcohol consumption, grumpy x sunshine with tragic ending, inspired by the song ‘Angel’ ft Jimin

❧ WORDCOUNT; 3.2k

𐚁₊⊹

▍18 OCTOBER 2021

It was autumn the first time Jeonghan saw you.

It was a late afternoon, where the sky was a faded blue, and the golden leaves settled on the ground in a final display of warmth before winter’s icy touch.

You were standing beneath a rust-coloured oak tree, watching a flock of birds taking off into the sky. And there was something about the way you watched them with your head tilted slightly and lips parted like you were whispering a wish only the wind could carry. It was like you wanted to follow them.

It was as if you had wings yourself. Something untouchable and too delicate for this world.

As another cool breeze blew, it tangled through your long, dark hair, lifting stray strands and sending them floating like silk ribbons around your face.

You had no jacket on and your oversized blue sweater had slipped off one shoulder. Jeonghan wondered why you’d wear something like that on a cold day.

He was sitting on a park bench with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, watching you the way someone watched something they know they shouldn’t want.

Then, as if you sensed him, you turned and met his gaze.

Most people looked at him and saw trouble. Some saw a lost cause.

But you? You just smiled.

It was the kind of smile that could undo a man. And maybe, just maybe, that was the moment you undid him.

And perhaps it was also the moment you started ruining him.

Jeonghan saw you as someone who belonged in the sky. Someone who wasn’t meant to stay tied down to the earth like he was.

▍8 DECEMBER 2021

He learnt your name without you even telling him. Kim Y/n.

He wasn’t supposed to, but the name-tag you dropped when you were rushing to work was what got you and him at his point.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” you asked him one day as you stirred your coffee absentmindedly.

It was his first date with you — or whatever counted as a date in his world. He took you to a dingy little café in the corner of Gangnam, which had the kind of scent that smelt like burnt espresso and nostalgia to him.

“Not much to say” he shrugged.

You smiled and rested your chin on your hand as you studied him. “I think you just don’t know what to say to me.”

That should have been Jeonghan’s first warning. You were right.

You had this way of looking at people like you could see all their secrets. Like you could unravel them without even trying.

And for some reason, Jeonghan wanted to be unraveled by you.

You were all light and warmth. Laughter that filled a room. The kind of person who danced barefoot in the rain just because it made you feel alive. You would drag him into old record stores, press play on songs you swore could change his life.

You had a way of seeing the world that made one believe in magic. You believed in love, in fate, in the kind of things he stopped believing in years ago.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, was the kind of guy people warned a girl like you about. He had a past filled with bad decisions, hands that had held too many things too tightly and ruined them in the process. He had walls so high no one ever dared to climb them.

Except for you.

You climbed them without hesitation.

─────

It was past midnight, and both of you were lying on the roof of his apartment building, staring at the stars.

“I used to think I was meant for something bigger,” you murmured. “Like I was supposed to be something more.”

“You are,” he said without thinking.

You turned to face him, the city lights reflecting in your eyes. “You don’t even know me.”

He did, though.

Jeonghan knew the way you hummed to yourself when you were lost in thoughts. The way you always smelt like lavender and old books. The way you could fill up a space just by being in it.

You were the kind of person one could not help but notice. The kind of person who made the world feel less empty.

And Jeonghan knew, deep down, that he didn’t deserve you. Because in his world, Y/n and Jeonghan weren’t supposed to happen.

But God, he wanted you anyway.

▍12 FEBRUARY 2022

One night, Jeonghan laid tangled with you in his bed while the city lights casted shadows on the ceiling. You traced lazy circles on his pale skin with your soft fingertips while humming a song under your breath.

“Tell me something real,” you whispered.

He exhaled smoke as he watched the way the glow from the bedside lamp made your eyes flicker like candlelight.

“I don’t deserve you,” he admitted.

You smiled, that soft, knowing smile of yours, and kissed him like you didn’t believe him.

Like you thought love could save him.

Jeonghan always reminded himself how he wasn’t like you. That he came from shadows, from a past filled with darkness.

But you — you weren’t afraid of the dark in him.

You leaned into it and traced your fingers over the rough edges of his life as if you could smooth them out.

▍27 MARCH 2022

Jeonghan tried to warn you.

One night, when you fell asleep beside him, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, “please angel, don’t fly so close to me” he murmured.

You didn’t hear him.

Or maybe you did, and you just ignored it.

Because you were also the kind of girl who didn’t believe in warnings.

You believed in love. And love, you thought, could fix anything.

He should have let you go sooner.

Jeonghan knew how this would end. He knew that he would only ruin you, that people like him don’t get to keep something as pure as you.

He told you again, and then again.

“Don’t fly so close to me angel” he’d mumble against your skin on a usual Saturday morning.

But you would simply laugh, tucking your head against his chest. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

You lifted yourself up on your elbows and looked at him with those wide, trusting eyes. “You don’t get to decide what I do with my wings.”

He sighed. “Y/n…”

“I love you,” you whispered.

Jeongan wanted to believe that love was enough.

But love doesn’t change what a man is.

And people like him? They break beautiful things.

▍10 JUNE 2022

It started the way all things break — slowly, and then all at once.

Jeonghan had a habit of disappearing. Not physically, but emotionally. Some nights he would pull you close, whisper things in your ear, let you think you had all of him. And then, without warning, he would shut down. He’d go out, stay late, drink too much, lose himself in the noise of the city so he didn’t have to feel the weight of what you made him want.

Because you made him want things he didn’t deserve.

And you — you deserved someone whole.

The first time you cried over him, it was because he didn’t come home. He found you sitting on the sofa with your arms wrapped around your knees.

“Where were you?” you asked with a small voice.

“Out” he simply shrugged, like it was no big deal.

“Out where?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

You shook your head while your hands trembled. “It matters to me.”

Jeonghan wanted to tell you the truth. He wanted to tell you that he was afraid, that loving you made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something too high, too terrifying.

Instead, he kissed you.

And for a while, you let that be enough.

Until it wasn’t.

It then started becoming too frequent. Small fracture, things that seem insignificant at first. Another night where he didn’t come home. A fight over nothing that turned into something. The way you would look at him sometimes, searching for something he couldn’t give you.

“You keep shutting me out,” you whispered one night, hugging your knees to your chest.

He lit a cigarette and avoided your gaze. “I never asked you to stay.”

You flinched, and he hated himself for saying it.

You should have left then. You should have ran before the darkness in him swallowed you whole.

But you stayed.

Because you always saw the good in people. Even when there was nothing left to see.

“Why do you do this?” you asked with a shaky voice as tears rolled down your cheeks, breaking the long silence.

“Do what?” he muttered, lighting another cigarette after the first one finished in a flash.

“Push me away.”

Jeonghan exhaled smoke, still avoiding your gaze. “Because one day, you’re going to leave. And I’d rather it be now than later.”

You stared at him for a long moment before whispering, “You really believe that, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer.

You sighed, standing up and walking closer to him. “I’m not leaving Jeonghan” you said as you reached for his hand. He wanted to believe you.

But people like him didn’t get to keep people like you.

▍23 JULY 2022

The night you and Jeonghan ended, it was raining.

You both stood outside his apartment, neon lights from a nearby diner reflecting in the puddles at your feet.

“Tell me the truth,” you pleaded with your trembling voice. “Do you even love me?”

Your voice broke on the last word, and something inside him cracked. Your hair was soaked, raindrops clinging to your long lashes like unshed tears.

He should have told you what you wanted to hear. Maybe it would have saved you and him. Maybe it would have saved you.

But the thing about Jeonghan was, he destroyed everything he touched.

“You don’t wanna lose those wings because of me Y/n,” he said with a hollow voice. “People like me break beautiful things like you.”

You let out a soft, broken laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t care,” you whispered. “I don’t care if you’re broken. I love you.”

His hands curled into fists. “You shouldn’t.”

He saw the way your breath hitched. “Then tell me you don’t love me. Look me in the eyes and tell me, and I’ll walk away.”

He should have told you the truth — that you were the only light in his life, that without you, he was nothing.

But if he loved you, he had to let you go. So he gave you the lie that would set you free.

“I don’t love you.”

The moment the words left his lips, he wanted to take them back. You inhaled sharply, as if he had struck you.

And then you turned, walked away without uttering a word, disappearing into the rain.

And he just let you go, no matter how much it destroyed him inside.

▍25 JULY 2023

Jeonghan received a phone call two days later from an unknown number. His heart dropped before he even answered. Like there was an unshakeable dread filling up in his chest. Something felt wrong. There was a hollow pit in his stomach he couldn’t explain.

When the shaky voice spoke, his whole world shattered.

A drunk driver. A car that never stopped. The impact was instant. No chance to say goodbye.

You were gone.

The phone in his hand slipped and fell on the floor with a thud. His knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor, numb and breathless.

His breath hitched, but no sound came out.

Memories flooded in — when he first saw you, the warmth of your hand in his, the way you chased away his darkest days with your light. He could almost hear your voice, but it slipped away like a whisper in the wind.

The sun crept through the window as the new day began, but it felt cold. How could the world continue to turn without you in it?

Just like that, the light you carried — his light — was gone, snuffed out.

▍30 JULY 2022

He went to your funeral. It was raining heavily that day.

He made sure to stand in the back where he was hidden in the shadows like he always was, drenched in the downpour.

His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms. It was as if the pain would keep him grounded and keep him from shattering completely.

Jeonghan watched as your family and friends wept for you. He listened as they spoke of you — how vibrant you were, how you lit up every room you stepped into, how you had dreams bigger than life itself.

Someone whispered about how unfair it was, how someone so full of life could be taken so soon. Someone else wondered if you knew how loved you were. He swallowed hard at that because he knew the truth. You didn’t.

Because of him.

No one knew that you died thinking he didn’t love you.

No one knew about the nights you stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering why he kept his distance, why he always seemed just out of reach.

No one knew about the unanswered messages, the half-written replies he never had the courage to send. They didn’t know about the way he had watched you from afar, longing to reach out but never daring to.

And that was the worst part.

Jeonghan loved you. He loved you in a way that terrified him, in a way that made him selfish and silent and a coward. He thought there would be more time. More chances to say the things he had locked away in his chest. More moments where he could turn around and run to you instead of away.

But life had stolen those chances. Death had taken away the possibility of redemption.

And now, as he stood there, his heart breaking under the weight of words left unsaid, he realised something far worse than his own grief.

That you had left this world believing a lie.

That you had gone thinking he never cared.

And no matter how many sleepless nights Jeonghan spent whispering apologies into the dark, no matter how many times he wished he could trade places with you, the truth remained. He had lost you. And you never knew the depth of his love.

Perhaps the cruelest thing about regret is that it changed nothing.

And so, as the final words were spoken and the casket was lowered into the earth, he turned and walked away — back into the shadows.

The only place he ever truly belonged.

▍15 AUGUST 2022

Jeonghan never stopped seeing you.

It wasn’t just in his memories, though they haunted him endlessly. It wasn’t just in his dreams, where you stood just close enough to touch but always disappeared the moment he reached for you. It was in everything.

In the blinking street lights that reflected on the wet pavement, your laughter still echoing down empty streets, just like the nights you used to walk home together.

In the sound of a song playing on an old record player, static crackling between the notes that reminded him of the way you used to hum absentmindedly. How your voice blended with the world around you.

In the scent of lavender that sometimes drifted through his apartment, even though you were gone, even though he threw away the candle you left on his shelf months ago.

It was maddening.

He drank to forget. Bottle after bottle, glass after glass, burning his throat, numbing his mind. But even in the haze of intoxication, you were still there, slipping into his thoughts like you had never left.

He smoked to forget. Let the smoke fill his lungs, let the world blur around him, hoping that maybe it would drown out the echoes of your voice in his head. But it never did. The memories clung to him that made it impossible to wash away.

But nothing worked.

Because the truth was, Jeonghan had never been so afraid of loving someone before. He never let himself feel something so deeply, never allowed someone to carve their name into the walls of his heart. And yet, you did it easily, without even trying.

He was afraid of losing you. So he kept his distance, kept his heart guarded, kept his love hidden behind silence and stolen glances. He thought that if he didn’t hold on too tightly, it wouldn’t hurt as much when you were gone.

But in the end, he lost you anyway. And the pain was unbearable.

Because now, there were no more chances. No more time to fix things, to tell you the truth, to hold you just once without fear. There was only regret. Only the ghost of you, lingering in the spaces you used to fill.

And Jeonghan knew, with every aching part of him, that he would never stop seeing you. Not now. Not ever.

▍18 OCTOBER 2022

He found your journal two months later which was tucked beneath the old record player you left in his apartment.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. It was the same day he first saw you, a year ago, standing beneath a rust-coloured oak tree, looking like something out of a dream.

Jeonghan never believed in fate, but this? This felt cruel.

The pages were filled with you. Your thoughts, your feelings, the little fragments of poetry you loved so much. Lyrics scribbled in the margins, quotes that must have meant something to you, tiny doodles in between sentences. It was chaos, yet somehow, it was unmistakably you — warm, messy, alive.

But then, his fingers hesitated as he reached the final page. There, written in your delicate, familiar handwriting, was a single line.

“Even if you break me, I’d still choose you.”

His breath got caught. A sharp, unbearable ache spread through his chest which pressed against his ribs and crushed him from the inside.

His vision blurred as he read the words again and again, as if they might change if he stared long enough. As if there might be some other meaning he could twist them into, something that didn’t feel like a knife to his heart.

But the truth was undeniable.

A lump formed in his throat that was suffocating him. His hands trembled as he clutched the journal closer, as if holding it tightly enough might somehow bring you back.

And for the first time since you left, Yoon Jeonghan wept.

He cried out loud as he fell to his knees. He screamed as he held your journal to his chest, feeling himself break the last of him completely.

Because you were never afraid to love him. And he was too much of a coward to love you back.

You were always fearless. You ran headfirst into love, into life, into everything. You were meant to fly. And maybe he was the one who clipped your wings. Maybe, all along, he was the weight dragging you down, like a storm that pulled you under.

Maybe he was always meant to watch you fall.

Because the thing about people like him?

They don’t just break beautiful things.

They destroy themselves in the process.

And as he sat there, drowning in the words you left behind, Jeonghan realised that he never truly feared losing you.

He feared what it would mean to love you completely.

And now, it was too late.

[sglossmin]

Muse | MYG

Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You're here for an appointment for therapy and he's your psychologist.

Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader ---> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?)

Warnings: talks about mental and death...erm lemme know if you found any disturbing heh

Word count: dunno

A/N: This is...actually some sort of based irl looll (only the high school scenes, most of it) This is my first one shot work! Let me know if I'm lacking something. The current series that I'm still working rn is still not even half finished T_T T_T So I thought I might give it a try---write a oneshot heh I just started here to write in tumblr so I still don't know that much stuff. Feel free to comment so I can improve!! Ik some of those thing weren't even a thing at that time...

"Shit..." I muttered right as I saw the man in a white coat, a clipboard in his arms while his hair softly falls down in his brows, reading his next patient's data. Just like the last time I saw him. Weird, huh? It's been years, yet... he still looks just the same.

Our eyes met, for the first time in a while. He frowned, it was so subtle and fast, no one would even know. But I did. Every little actions that he did, I always notice it. No matter what. I keep saying that the Y/n who just hit her puberty is no longer me, yet with my emotions right now, I can feel like my hormones are all over the place.

"Sit down," he smiled, gesturing the seat across him.

His voice so deep it sounds like soothing lullaby... Eyes so tired that I can tell he works so well... The warmth in his smile makes my heart skip a beat, forgetting why am I here in the first place...

Snap of it!

It took me a second to realize that I stared at him for too long. I cleared my throat, wishing my embarrassment would also go away. I smiled as I took the seat.

Our session ended without him saying that he at least recognize me. Did it made me upset? Yeah... sort of. I mean, I didn't go there and paid him to reminisce our high school days, but still...

I huffed as I crumpled a paper.

"Ugh! Really? Y/n? Still drawing him?"

I uncrumpled it and stared at the newly drawing for a while. I leaned back in my chair and sighed... "I'll give it to him. He looks hot in that coat." I chuckled and stuck the paper back in my notebook. "I'm keeping it because I drew him too good, not that I still like him or anything. That would be just so stupid."

Ha! Right! Nothing else. I smiled, pleased with how I gaslight myself.

I stretched my back and arms. My body ached for having a shrimp position for a long time.

And before I know it, I fell asleep (again) in my studio.

Summer 2010

Our last subject just finished and it's still raining heavily. I have no umbrella so my friends and I were forced to run. Reaching the covered court, I groaned. "Why call it summer when it rains this heavy??"

"Do they really think—us—high school students are waterproof?" Exclaimed by Sana while Chaeyoung just chuckled beside us. Our clothes were pretty wet but not that drenched.

We went upstage since there's some chair in there. Putting our bags down, we wait for the rain to stop. Us juniors only have to spend half day in the campus. Lucky, huh?

"Stay here, hm? You both can't leave me just because you guys have umbrella to share and your house are close." I glared at the both of them while they just snickered. They won't leave me otherwise, I know that.

It's been an hour, yet the rain don't seem to plan on stopping. It's about 1 now, we think. Seems like we're the only junior students in the campus. Suddenly, the seniors from the front building went outside. They went in the cover court. They were wearing some sort of costumes. It was ridiculous—Okay, not really. They seemed like they're going to dance.

We sat still from above across them and watch them prepare.

"Hey, Chae, wanna play?" I grinned as I whispered. Sana was too occupied with her phone that's why it was just the two of us who played.

We played Smash or Pass with every senior guy that I pointed. Until finally, I pointed it to the guy who's wearing a Thai hat(?) The gold ones, it seems like part of their costume.

"Hm... Smash!" Chaeyoung laughed and I did too. Cause miraculously, SAME.

We had a great laugh realizing we'd say smash.

We watched them dance and sing along with the music that were playing. Thinking about it, we might actually look like idiots. They can practically see us sing and dance with them since we're upstage.

After a while, I asked Chae, "What nickname should we give him?" It's our thing. Giving nicknames to people whether they look good or annoying. I think it's every friend groups should do.

"He looks like a cat and his eyes disappear too when he smiles... Kitty?"

"Kitty...?" Sounds weird so I proposed to change it. "What about Neko? Same meaning but doesn't sound weird." She agreed and since then, we called him Neko. With his sharp eyes and pale tone, he does looks like a kitty.

Few moments after, we planned a scheme. We went down to compare our height to his. We walked towards him as if we were just passing by and about to go to the canteen instead.

My and Chae's eyes went wide open. Gasping and staring at each other, the signal were sent.

Gosh, he's tall.

Oh gosh, he is.

A day or two passed since that. We randomly saw him when we went to buy in the canteen.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

Untill a few days have been passed and I keep on seeing him. To the point that... maybe... just maybe, it wasn't really a coincidence anymore.

New character unlocked?

When we were about to go back in our room, we met Hani. My bestfriend in elementary days.

"Y/n! Come here! Imma show you something. Actually—no—It's a someone." Hani dragged me and Chae went along with me.

Hani rant about how this guy looks so good, that in the first time in a while, they found someone who actually looks good in this campus.

Chae and I eyed each other. Were we thinking who we're thinking?

As we reached the third floor of the first year's building, across it was the senior's building. We stopped our track right in front of the exact room. The windows were open and from our spot, we can literally see him studying.

"Neko?"

"You know him?" Hani asked in which I nod.

I think we just found our sweet spot.

Chae and I sometimes went up there just to catch a glimpse of him. It was stupid and fun.

Until that day came.

As usual, Chae and I went to the third floor once again. We stayed in the balcony that faces their room. It was break time so everyone was all over the place. Then I felt it. Chae poked my side and pointed my front. I frowned and followed her finger. There was it, his teacher raising her brow at me. Then his classmates turned their heads toward me... 'till lastly, he did. Everyone was looking at ME. I noticed Chae was hiding on the wall divider of the balcony. I looked back at the teacher who's still looking at me.

"Do you need anything, Ms?" We were quite far but it was still audible.

"H-huh..?" That was all I could muster. It was even barely a whisper. My mouth was slightly open due to not knowing what to do nor say. It lasted like that for a few more seconds. Until I mustered all the courage and pride I have left in my body and shrugged it off and walked away. Frowning as if they got it wrong and I was simply hanging out there.

Walk

Walk

RUN

I went back to our room as soon as I noticed Chae was following me. When we get back, we were panting and sweating. Our classmates looked at us with weird looks. Not that I can blame them. One of our classmate asked us and we did tell the story.

It was our last time going in there.

I felt someone flick my head. I groaned in annoyance.

"Noona, wake up!"

I grumbled as I sit up straight, realizing I fell asleep in the studio again.

"You know you don't have to flick me. Between the two of us, I'm the light sleeper." I mumbled while my eyes were focusing on the big guy in front of me.

He rolled his eyes at me. Up to this day, I wondered who did he got it from. "Eomma wants you to eat lunch with us."

I chuckled. "Your mother did? Wow, what a pleasure." I sassed.

He groaned and plopped himself at the couch. "Can't believe you still resent her."

"Kook, what kind of a daughter am I if I don't?"

Jungkook threw a pillow to me as he stood up. "Still. Eat with us."

And just like that, he walked away.

Life goes on, that's what they say.

I must've been nuts for going to therapy yesterday. It's not like, I'm seriously depressed.

Right..?

Living alone in the house that came from the paycheck of my drawings must be really the best accomplishment I've had. Who would've thought the high achieving in academics girl would end up in this job. It was pure mystery.

I stared at my empty fridge. I smiled. The only thing that kept me sane nowadays is this...

"Looks like, I need to go... shopping."

I grinned ear to ear while I spent my fortune.

"Who needs therapy, when you can go and do your grocery."

I picked out the foods I knew I'd eat while I finish the new dramas. I was about to get the last stock of my fave gummies until someone practically snatched it. Fast.

"H-hey-" I cut off myself from shouting when I realized who it was.

It was him. In normal clothes. Am I dreaming? Impossible. He wouldn't have clothes in the first place if I am.

"Oh, Ms Jeon." He smiled.

Smiled?

He has the nerve to smile after taking that gummy?

But... then again, who need those gummy bears when his gummy smile is practically the sweetest.

He cleared his throat. "Seems like we'll be seeing each other more often."

Uh...what? Is he trying to say that I have a severe mental illness so we'll literally see each other more?? This fucker...

He probably noticed my frown as he chuckled and shook his head. "Uhm, that might've come off the wrong way. I meant, I just moved in in this neighborhood."

Sorry, what..?

I laughed my nervousness away. It's not like we'll be neighbors. This neighborhood is way too big for us to see each other.

Is that why it was my first time seeing him in this grocery store?

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood." I chuckled, probably awkwardly and excused myself.

Damn it. It could've been my chance for us to talk and stuff, but I refused. I mean, with my looks right now? No thanks.

I skipped my lunch and didn't go to our family's house. I plopped myself on my bed and took out my old sketchbook.

Staring at my old drawings of him, it sure did bring back of the memories.

2010

It's been a month yet we still don't know his name. We already did a lot of different shenanigans just to know it. He must be really like having a low profile. We found his classmate's account yet his are nowhere to be found. Maybe he doesn't go online...

I was staring at my computer, scrolling on whatever stuff pop up, then it hits me. Her sister. Hani's sister!

They're in the same year, so maybe, just maybe, she knows his name.

I quickly typed in to ask her. A girl from our year had a picture with him posted. I sent it to her.

"Hi eonni, can I ask u a question? Is there a chance that you know him?"

*Photo sent*

It took a while for her to respond.

"Uhm yeah, he's from our year"

"Can you tell me his name?"

"Min Yoongi"

"I think that's his name"

Min Yoongi... cute. It suits him.

Hours and hours later, I still couldn't find his account. Then as I was searching, there was this account, he was friends with Hani.

My eyes widen. "Min Suga? Could it be?"

I stalked the account and it was really him. No wonder I couldn't find his account—he wasn't using his real name! Likes to keep a low profile? Bullshit. He has more than 5k followers!

Moreover...he really...looks good.

I wonder if his face reflects his personality.

I added him as a friend and waited for the request to be accepted. I told Chae that if he didn't accepted it within 24 hours, I'll delete my request. I still have pride you know. Don't want to be one of those girls in his inbox.

It hasn't even been an hour and I got the notification. He accepted it! I squealed and danced in my room.

This is what being a youth, right?

I clicked my tongue as I chuckled bitterly. "Youth is never coming back."

As I turn the pages more, my bell ringed. Jungkook never ring first, he just comes in whenever he wants to. I should really change the passcode. As for my mom, she never really bother coming here.

Expecting no one, I opened the door, only to gape at the man in front of me.

"You...like pies?"

Min Yoongi, in front of me, holding a pie, not just holding, but giving..?

"Uh...how close is your house exactly?" I didn't mean to sound rude, but rather genuinely curious.

He hesitatingly pointed the house across me.

The Kim's house?

"It was my friend's grandparents who lived there. He took them to take care of them and then he sold this house to me." Yoongi explained. His face going like this :]

"So you really did mean that we'll see each other more often..." I mumbled in which he caught. He laughed and gave me the pie.

"My mom kept on nagging me on giving pies. She really worked hard on it. Hope you like it!"

She's here?

I nodded and thanked him. He went back and I did too. The smell of the freshly baked peach mango pie really did things to my stomach.

For the first time, Min Yoongi gave me something.

Spring 2011

"Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I murmured while we wait in the senior's balcony. A few steps away from him, we waited. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him." I mumbled. "He didn't even read my text..." I mumbled. Chaeyoung was practically dragging me. "Look, he seems busy too."

"Would you rather let your drawing and efforts be wasted then?" Chayoung argued.

Then for the meantime, we waited. We walked towards his classroom but he was nowhere. He was just right there few seconds earlier.

"Stupid text."

A week ago...*

Should I really text him? The classes have been cancelled. I'm not sure whether it's a good idea to do it now. Should I make myself known? Or should I keep it anonymous? But I really wanna take a picture with him...

Ugh! My head hurts. Forget it, I'm just gonna do it.

"Hi uhm... So I just randomly draw one of my mutuals and it happened to be you.."

*Photo sent*

"Perhaps you like it?

"I was about to give you this at school tomorrow but they cancelled the classes so... Hope you like it<3

Was I too formal?

It took him hours to reply.

"Oh wow, what a nice piece!"

"Yes I like it, thanks!"

HE REPLIED!!! I muffled my squeal with my pillow as I looked back at his text. It took me hours to see the message and reply too.

"Guess... I'll just give it to you when we bump into each other, maybe(?)"

"Ugh goshhh how am I going to give you this at schoolT^T"

"Just don't give it yet if you're still not ready^^"

End*

I went home feeling defeated. Not able to give him the drawing.

I stared at my bedroom's ceiling before deciding to go online.

2+messages

It was sent an hour ago. I quickly opened the message. He replied to my text earlier in the morning, when I told him to meet up.

"Sorry, I just saw your text message"

"I don't have an internet at school, that's why"

"It's fine, so,I'll just give it to you tomorrow?"

"Okay, sure"

Saying it was fine when I was literally sulking in my room like a child. But that's when I haven't read his message.

Min Yoongi apologized to me.

I giggled like an idiot in my room as I stared at the text messages we shared.

The next day...

"AAHHHH! Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I whined, it wasn't just Chae and Sana was there for me, but some of my classmates too. They were waiting for me—like usual, we go home altogether. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him. This is really a stupid stupid idea!!" I ran around the court in attempt to go home.

We're here, in front of the senior's building. Waiting...again.

One of my classmate proposed that they'll just call him to go down. Two of them went upstairs to his room.

Why does he always keeping me on waiting. Does he think he's some sort of a king?

I huffed and were literally losing all my shits. Till I heard them.

"He's here!!" They squealed. Too much of an opposite, I composed myself and cleared my throat. Thank God he's tall so when I'm looking forward all I can see is his chest. I gave it to him and our hands brushed. It was so quick and subtle, yet it already made my heart warm.

As practiced, Chaeyoung smoothly asked him if we can take a picture—for business purposes. I felt too stiff. This is too good to be true. Then I felt it, he leaned closer. Our arms touching, he smiled to the pic.

My heart was about to get off my rib cage. My insides were going crazy, yet, thankfully, I look completely normal outside.

When I got home, he texted me, thanking and saying that he really appreciates it. A warm feeling spread across my whole body.

The next day, my classmates and I talked about the event yesterday. They were bitching about how Yoongi didn't even thanked me and just left. I laughed so hard when I heard that. Because he did. Yoongi did thanked me before leaving, it just happened that it was loud enough for only me to hear it. Now, it felt more special.

"Have you ever thought of the probable major reason for what you're feeling?"

Here we go again.

How can I focus on what's wrong with me, when you're right here? Worse, as my doctor.

3 more appointments with him. I paid for this, I should at least gain something.

"Maybe... because up to this day, I still blame myself for his death." My head hung low as I mumbled it.

Why do you always have to see my flaw, Min Yoongi?

This infatuation is slowly turning to hatred...

"You know it wasn't your fault."

I turned my head to him with a frown. So, he does remember me?

A tear fell from my cheek. I wiped it before he can even notice. I turned my hands into fist. 6 words. It was only 6 words yet he can already open my bare self.

"I-if I wasn't stubborn. He'd still be here. He followed me. You saw that. If only he didn't. He'd still be here."

I felt a lump in my throat. Those memories. It was too vivid as if it just happened yesterday.

Spring 2012

"I told you, I don't want to!"

Another day, another argument to have with my mother.

Why is she so pushy on making me go to states?

"It's for your own sake! Studying here at this campus will let you go nowhere."

"What? So eager to get rid of me?!" I yelled while we drive to campus.

"Jeon Y/n! Don't you dare shout at your mother." My father said sternly as he drives.

As we were near the campus, I lost it.

"Drop me off." 1.. 2.. 3... "I said, drop me off, dad." Keeping my voice low yet so stern it could cut apples.

My father stopped the car and I get out of it.

I was mindlessly crossing the road that I didn't notice a four wheeler truck coming at me.

Then I felt a pair of hands pushed me hard, and before I knew it, screams were heard. My mom's loud cries were ringing in my ears. Tears were coming out of me uncontrollably. Blood all over him. I crawled, oh so slowly and trembling. Before I could even reach him, my mom pushed me aside and called for help.

Minutes later, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I was just there. Staring at him. No words coming out.

It started raining. It was a light rain, yet even with those subtle touch, it made my whole body flinch and freeze.

Till I felt someone's embrace. Someone was covering me with their jacket. Who could possibly care for me if it wasn't my father.

Slowly, I turned my head towards the person.

Why it has to be you?

"Everything's gonna be okay. The ambulance is taking your father already."

He spoke in a soothing tone. Yet no matter how warm or soft his voice is, I can't somehow get out the ice cage I'm in.

"Do you think your father would want you to think that way? It's been years Y/n, what happened that you're back at this again?"

part 2 read here^^

A/N: okay, I lied. Maybe this isn't gonna be a oneshot... maybe I'll have 2 parts? 3 maybe? I just cut this off here cause I think it was too long. So readers can have breaks hehe. Gonna post the next part tomorrow maybe...

Comment your @ if u guys wants to be added on the taglist^^

[violetwifey]

would you spare our poor souls with a pt2 of roommate!vi? 🥺🙏🏻

Eyes Wide Open, Heart Still Sleeping {part two}

Welcome back strawberrieeeeeeeeeees 🍓<3 I hope y'all are doing well! Quite a few asked for a part 2 so I decided to make it (even though I intended for it to be a oneshot 🤭) I pray that I've wrote this part up to your standards. Anyways, enjoy! Also, thank you soooo much for the amount of love my very first story got. I'm genuinely surprised and grateful, always <3

Summary: A night of laughter, sibling squabbles, and unexpected flirtation turns into something deeper when a thunderstorm traps two friends together. As they share a bed and confront their feelings, the walls they've built up start to crumble. With the storm raging outside, Vi must face her fears of rejection, and the reader discovers that maybe they've both been feeling the same way all along.

𝑪𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

The car ride was silent.

Not the comfortable kind you both shared during late-night study sessions or when rain poured outside, and you decided to stay in, each doing your own thing—Vi with her book, you scrolling through social media.

No, this was the kind of silence that made your skin itch. The kind that made you want to clear your throat just to break it. Anything but this.

Vi slowed to a stop at a red light, her fingers tapping absentmindedly on the wheel. “You okay?” she asked, finally cutting through the tension.

“Huh? Yeah… why?” The question caught you off guard. You had been lost in thought, picking apart the way she had been acting earlier. But now, she was looking at you like you were the one acting strange.

“It’s just… not like you to be this quiet. Every second you’re awake, there’s something coming out of that smart mouth of yours—ow!”

She jerked away, rubbing the spot where you’d swatted her arm.

“Oh, stop being dramatic. It was barely a caress,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and turning to stare out the window.

You heard her scoff under her breath, but you didn’t dignify it with a response. She deserved that one.

By the time you reached the parking lot outside Ekko and Jinx’s place, the silence had settled into something less heavy but still lingering. Vi walked beside you, a gift in one hand, the other swinging loosely at her side.

Then you felt it.

A soft, lingering touch against the back of your hand.

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay composed, resisting the urge to jerk away—not out of discomfort, but because of the way your heart stuttered in your chest.

You glanced at her, trying to be subtle. Her expression was unreadable, her gaze forward, posture relaxed. No sign of hesitation. No flicker of embarrassment. If she was caught, she didn’t show it.

So you let it slide.

For now.

When you reached the door, Jinx swung it open, her signature toothy grin already in place.

“There you two are! Took you long enough.” She pulled her sister into a hug, pressing a playful kiss to her cheek before turning to you. “Hey there, Yapster.”

You scoffed, hugging her back. “I don’t yap! Why does everyone keep saying that today?” You pulled away, eyes bouncing between the two sisters.

“Because you do, smartass,” Vi quipped.

You rolled your eyes, missing the knowing look Jinx shot between the two of you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll take that,” Jinx said, prying the gift from Vi’s hand. “Now, come meet everyone. You’re the last ones to get here.”

“Oh, I wonder whose fault that is,” Vi teased, nudging your side.

You giggled, shaking your head, and Vi’s soft smile lingered a little longer than usual.

The party was alive with laughter, music, and the occasional crash of something breaking in the distance—most likely Jinx’s doing. You had long since lost track of time, leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, watching as Vi and Jinx got into yet another sibling squabble.

“I swear, you always have to pick a fight over something,” Vi huffed, crossing her arms.

Jinx smirked, standing on the coffee table with an energy drink in one hand. “Me? Oh, no, big sis. I just happen to point out how slow you are in beer pong, and suddenly it’s a fight?”

Vi scoffed. “I’m not slow.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Jinx hopped down, jabbing a finger into Vi’s abs. “All these muscles, and yet you cry over a little loss? Face it, Ms Grumpy, I’m the real champ here.”

Vi raised a brow. “You blew up a toaster last week.”

Ekko groaned, stepping between them before Jinx could lunge. “Alright, break it up, you two. Let’s keep it a party, not a wrestling match.”

Jinx threw her hands up dramatically. “Fine! Vi just loves to kill my fun.”

Vi rolled her eyes, but you didn’t miss the small smile tugging at her lips as Jinx bounced away.

You found yourself watching Vi, studying the way she ran a hand through her hair, muttering to herself. She had that presence—effortlessly cool, with a hint of roughness around the edges. Even when she was bickering with Jinx, even when she was rolling her eyes, there was this undeniable warmth beneath it all.

Your little moment of admiration was cut short when someone slid up beside you.

"Didn’t think I’d see someone as stunning as you at one of Ekko’s chaotic get-togethers," a voice drawled.

You turned, blinking up at a guy you vaguely recognized—one of Ekko’s friends. He had an easy smirk, the kind that suggested he thought he was far more charming than he actually was.

"Uh, thanks?" You chuckled, unsure of what else to say. Compliments weren’t exactly rare, but the way he was leaning in, all confident and self-assured, made something in you stiffen.

"You here with someone?" he asked, tilting his head, eyes scanning you in a way that felt more assessing than admiring.

"Yeah, with Vi—"

"Ah," he cut in smoothly. "But Vi’s not your date, right?"

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard. "I mean, no, but—"

"So you're single." He grinned, like he’d won some kind of jackpot. "Good to know."

You let out a small, awkward laugh, shifting slightly in your seat. "I don’t think that’s really—"

"Here," he grabbed a drink from the table behind him, holding it out to you. "Let me at least get you another drink."

Before you could respond, a familiar arm draped over your shoulder, the weight grounding you instantly.

"Hey," Vi's voice was casual, but there was a distinct edge to it. She gave the guy a tight-lipped smile that was anything but friendly. "Didn’t know Ekko started letting just anyone into these parties."

Ekko’s friend sat up slightly, clearly clocking the tension but playing it off. "Vi, right? Didn’t mean to step on your toes." His gaze flickered between you and her. "Didn’t realize there were toes to step on."

Vi let out a dry chuckle, her fingers idly drumming against your shoulder—calm, controlled, but you could feel the restrained energy beneath. "Oh, there are toes," she said easily. Then she leaned forward just a little, lowering her voice just for him. "And if you don’t back off, they might just land somewhere you won’t like."

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing. "Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial." He shot you one last glance before standing. "Nice meeting you."

You barely had a second to react before Vi turned her head slightly, eyes flicking to yours. "You good?"

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and grinned. "Damn, Vi, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous."

Vi scoffed, finally removing her arm—but not before giving your shoulder a light squeeze. "Pfft. Please." She grabbed a drink from the table and took a sip. "I just hate watching people embarrass themselves."

You hummed knowingly. "Right."

She rolled her eyes, but the tips of her ears? Bright red.

After that, the party picked up again, and you found yourself swept into a mix of games, drinks, and laughter. Vi had eased up, though she still sent a glance or two your way every now and then. Jinx had gotten into an intense arm-wrestling match with Ekko, which ended in them both falling off their chairs.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

But as the night wound down, people started leaving one by one, until eventually, it was just you, Vi, Jinx, and Ekko left.

And then the thunderstorm hit.

“Oh, great,” Jinx sighed, peering outside. “Storm’s rolling in fast.”

Ekko checked his phone. “Yeah, roads are flooding. You guys should just crash here.”

Jinx pointed at you and Vi. “Guest room’s free. You two can share.”

Vi choked. “What?”

“You’ve slept in worse conditions before,” Jinx pointed out. “Don’t be a baby.”

Vi grumbled something under her breath, but she didn’t argue.

The storm raged outside, thunder rolling through the sky as rain pounded against the windows. The power had flickered once, twice, before finally giving out, plunging the house into a dim glow from the emergency lanterns. Jinx, ever the chaotic spirit, had laughed it off before disappearing upstairs with Ekko, leaving you and Vi in the guest room.

You pulled out one of Jinx’s oversized shirts from the dresser, turning away from Vi as you peeled off your dress. A small part of you—okay, maybe not so small—was aware of her standing there, trying so hard not to look.

"Jinx seriously has the worst taste," you muttered, examining the faded, paint-stained shirt before slipping it on.

A beat of silence.

Then, Vi’s voice, strained and just a little too tight: "You’re doing that on purpose."

You turned to her, putting on a show with your doe eyes. "Doing what?"

Vi’s jaw tightened. She looked away, rubbing the back of her neck. "Never mind," she grumbled.

You laughed softly, sliding under the covers. "Well, I’d offer to let you sleep on the floor, but I doubt your ego could handle it."

Vi scoffed, kicking off her boots. "My ego is just fine, thanks." She hesitated for half a second before climbing in beside you, keeping to her side of the bed like there was some kind of invisible barrier between you.

The room settled into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of rain against the windows. For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, quietly, you teased, "You got awfully worked up earlier when that guy was flirting with me."

Vi groaned. "Oh, don’t start."

"Why not?" You turned your head to look at her, catching the way her fingers twitched against the blanket. "It was cute."

Vi huffed out a laugh. "I am not cute."

"Debatable."

A pause. Then, softer, you asked, "Why did it bother you so much?"

Vi exhaled slowly. "Because…" She hesitated. You could practically see the way she was debating with herself, trying to decide if she should say it.

"Because what?" you prompted gently.

Vi turned onto her side, facing you. In the dim glow of the lantern, her eyes were softer than usual—unguarded in a way that made your heart stutter.

"Because it’s you," she admitted, voice low. "And I—" She stopped, shook her head. "I just... I don’t want to lose what we have. I don’t want to mess this up by saying something stupid."

Your breath caught in your throat.

"Vi," you whispered.

She laughed, but it was quiet, almost nervous. "I know. It’s dumb."

"It’s not." You shifted closer, reaching for her hand under the blankets. "It’s really not."

Vi’s fingers curled around yours instinctively, like they belonged there. Like she’d been waiting for this.

"You really have a way of getting under my skin," she muttered.

You grinned. "I try."

She rolled her eyes, but her grip on your hand tightened. "I— I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should."

You felt warmth bloom in your chest. "Good."

Vi blinked. "Good?"

"Yeah," you murmured, squeezing her hand. "Because I like you too, dumbass."

For the first time that night, Vi was speechless. Then, with a huff of laughter, she pulled you closer, pressing her forehead against yours. "You’re gonna be the death of me."

You smiled, closing your eyes. "Nah. I’ll be the reason you live."

And as the storm raged outside, Vi held you just a little tighter, like she finally believed it.

𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔲𝔰 𝔖𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔢:

You felt a soft thud against your back, jerking your body forward. "Vi, what the hell!?" you yelped, spinning around to see her standing there, grinning like a mischievous child with a pillow clutched to her chest.

"C'mon, princess," she teased, raising an eyebrow. "How long are you gonna glue your cute little ass to this bed? Take a break, or you're gonna turn into a stressball. I can already see you balding from the pressure."

You blinked, incredulous. "I’m not balding!"

She waved her hand dismissively, stepping closer and tapping the pillow against your arm like she was ready to declare war. "You look like you could use a distraction." Before you could react, she swung the pillow at your head, knocking your books out of place.

"Violet!" you squealed, jumping out of the bed to avoid the next blow. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

With a loud, playful laugh, she swung again, catching you on the shoulder this time. You couldn’t help but laugh yourself, adrenaline kicking in as you realized you were in the middle of a full-on pillow fight.

You snatched the pillow off the bed and swung it back at her, narrowly missing her face. "You asked for it," you warned, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Vi's eyes lit up, and suddenly she was charging at you like a wild animal, swinging her pillow in all directions. "Oh, I did, huh? You’re gonna regret that, princess." She tackled you back into the bed with a cushion to your stomach, laughing all the while.

You shrieked, trying to wriggle away from her grasp, but she was quicker. The two of you were in full chaos mode now, knocking pillows and papers everywhere as you both fought for dominance.

"Come on, admit it!" Vi teased, tapping you with the pillow like a drum. "You needed a break!"

"Oh, I did," you gasped between giggles, managing to yank the pillow out of her hands. "But not like this!"

You leapt to your feet, holding your pillow up defensively, but Vi wasn’t having it. She grabbed a second pillow from the bed and swung both at you, knocking you off balance. "Gotcha now!" she grinned, her eyes gleaming with victory.

The two of you stumbled back and forth, laughter echoing around the room, until you finally collapsed on the bed, breathless. Vi joined you moments later, dropping her pillow to the floor with a satisfied grin.

"Okay, okay," you said, catching your breath. "You win. You’re insane."

Vi rolled her eyes, flopping back onto the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But you needed to relax, and now look at you—smiling like a doofus."

You gave her a mock glare, but there was no stopping the smile that tugged at your lips. "Fine. I admit it. You’re right."

Vi turned her body to face you. "Good. See? Wasn't so bad, was it?"

You nudged her with your elbow, unable to hold back the laughter. "You're ridiculous," you said, still catching your breath.

But in that moment, with the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the windows and Vi's laugh filling the room, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

"Yeah," she said, a hand coming up to move strands of hair away from your face gently. "But you love me for it." You didn’t even have to answer.

[writingbuckets]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐱

paige bueckers x podcaster!reader

wc: 4.9k

synopsis: Y/N and Paige’s relationship evolves from a slow burn to a deep, committed love as they navigate the complexities of their careers and dreams.

warnings: emotional tension, angst, jealousy, explicit sexual content, fluff, relationship growth

a/n: last chapter!! i've been writing some oneshots as i dont plan on starting a new series for a while, so i have those queued to come out over the next several days!

Paige stood by the door, her hand on the handle, her face a mix of frustration and regret. The air between you felt heavy, loaded with words that had cut deeper than either of you intended. She hesitated, her lips parting as though she might say something, but then she shook her head.

“I’ll give you some space,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t reply, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you stared at the floor. A knot of anger and sadness churned in your stomach, and though you wanted to stop her, to demand that she stay and work this out now, you let her leave. The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was deafening.

You sank onto the couch, staring at the spot where Paige had just been. The argument replayed in your mind, every word sharp and jagged. Your heart ached with the weight of it all—how could someone you loved so much, who claimed to know you so well, dismiss something so integral to who you were?

Your eyes drifted to the framed photo on the bookshelf, a candid shot of you and Paige laughing at the beach. It had been taken on a rare day off for her, one where she hadn’t been thinking about practice schedules or interviews, and you hadn’t been preoccupied with editing episodes or planning content. In that moment, you’d felt so connected, so certain that love was enough to bridge any gap.

But now, the gap felt wider than ever.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, and let out a shaky breath. Could you keep holding on to a love that asked you to compromise so much of yourself? You didn’t doubt your feelings for Paige; you loved her more deeply than you’d ever thought possible. But love wasn’t supposed to come at the cost of your identity.

Still, even through the hurt, you found yourself thinking of the way she looked at you, how her presence could light up the darkest days. You thought of the sacrifices she’d made to reach where she was, the pressure she carried every day as the face of women’s basketball. Maybe she’d spoken out of fear, out of her own need to feel like you were in this together.

You sighed, the anger ebbing just enough for empathy to creep in. But the question remained: Could you find a way forward that didn’t require you to lose yourself in the process?

Paige sat in her car in the dimly lit parking lot, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn’t drive away immediately; instead, she stared out at the rain-speckled windshield, the sound of droplets tapping against the glass a muted backdrop to the storm raging in her mind.

The hurt in your eyes haunted her. She’d never meant to make you feel small or unimportant, but as she replayed the conversation, she could hear the weight of her own words, how dismissive they’d sounded.

It’s not like it’s… a real job.

She winced, shame curling in her chest. How could she have said that? She knew how much your podcast meant to you, how hard you’d worked to build something meaningful. She’d seen the late nights, the endless brainstorming sessions, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about an episode that resonated with your listeners. And yet, she’d brushed it aside in her thoughtless attempt to simplify things.

Paige leaned back in her seat, running a hand through her hair. She’d been so focused on her own fears—on how overwhelming it felt to face the unknown of the draft, to think about moving across the country and starting a new chapter—that she hadn’t stopped to consider yours.

She’d assumed that love meant you’d follow her anywhere, but wasn’t love also about meeting in the middle? About supporting each other’s dreams instead of asking one person to give up everything?

Her chest tightened. Paige hated feeling like she’d failed you, but even more than that, she hated the idea of losing you. 

With a deep breath, she started the car, her determination settling in. If there was one thing she’d learned from basketball, it was that you don’t quit just because you’re down. You regroup. You adapt. And you fight for what matters most.

**********

The soft knock at your apartment door startled you the next morning, pulling you from the haze of your thoughts. You hadn’t been expecting anyone, and after the emotionally charged night you’d had, the last thing you wanted was company. Still, the persistent sound echoed again, gentle but insistent. Reluctantly, you pushed off the couch, your legs feeling heavy as you made your way to the door.

Your heart tightened as you peered through the peephole.

It was Paige.

She stood there on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers and lavender—your favorite flowers. The vibrant yellows and soft purples stood out against the overcast sky behind her. Her hoodie was pulled low over her head, the sleeves hanging slightly past her hands. She looked smaller than usual, her shoulders slouched, her confident posture replaced by something hesitant and unsure. It was a look you rarely saw on her.

For a moment, you considered not opening the door. The wound from last night’s argument still felt raw, the hurt words she’d thrown at you circling endlessly in your mind. But as your eyes flicked back to her face through the peephole, you saw the flicker of vulnerability in her expression, and your resolve faltered.

Taking a deep breath, you unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Hey,” Paige said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” you replied, your tone guarded. You didn’t move to let her in, the weight of last night still heavy between you.

Paige shifted on her feet, her grip tightening around the stems of the bouquet. “I… I know I should’ve called first,” she said, her words rushed and uncertain, “but I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me. Still, I needed to see you.” She paused, swallowing hard. “Can I come in?”

For a moment, you hesitated. The pain of her dismissive words still lingered, but the sincerity in her voice made it hard to shut her out. Finally, you stepped aside, motioning for her to enter.

Paige walked in cautiously, as though afraid the wrong move might shatter whatever fragile truce had allowed her inside. She held out the bouquet, her hands trembling slightly. “These are for you.”

You took them silently, your fingers brushing hers briefly before you pulled away. The familiar, calming scent of lavender wafted up as you turned to place the flowers on the counter.

When you turned back, Paige was still near the door, her hands shoved deep into her hoodie pocket. She looked at you with those piercing blue eyes that usually exuded confidence but now brimmed with uncertainty.

“I messed up,” she began, her voice unsteady. “I mean, obviously. But I just… I need you to know how sorry I am. About everything I said, about how I made you feel. It wasn’t fair to you.”

You leaned against the counter, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “Paige…”

“No, please,” she cut in, taking a tentative step forward. “Let me finish. I didn’t mean to make it sound like what you do isn’t important. I know how much your podcast means to you. I’ve seen how much passion you pour into it, how much time and effort you’ve spent building it into something real, something that matters.”

Her voice cracked slightly, and she ran a hand through her hair, her frustration with herself evident. “And the fact that I made you feel like that didn’t matter? That’s on me. That’s my fault, and I hate that I hurt you.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and unpolished, and you felt the wall you’d built around yourself begin to crumble, piece by piece. But the sting of her earlier dismissal wasn’t something you could simply brush aside.

“I love you,” Paige continued, her voice thick with emotion. “And I want to build a life with you. But that doesn’t mean I get to decide what that life looks like all on my own. I get that now.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly as you processed her words.

“Paige,” you said softly, your tone no longer harsh but still firm, “I love you too. But I need you to understand something. I can’t—won’t—give up everything I’ve worked for. My career, my independence, my identity… they’re not things I’m willing to sacrifice. Not even for you.”

Her lips parted as if to respond, but she stopped herself, nodding instead.

“I know,” she said after a pause, her voice quieter now. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to give up anything that makes you… you. But I also don’t want to lose you. I need to figure out how to support you without asking you to give up everything for me.”

Your expression softened as you saw the vulnerability etched into her features. Slowly, you stepped closer, your arms dropping to your sides.

“This can’t be about one of us making all the sacrifices,” you said gently. “It has to be about meeting in the middle. Compromising. Finding a way to make this work for both of us.”

Paige’s eyes flickered with a mixture of relief and hope. She reached out hesitantly, her hands brushing against yours. “So… what does that look like? For us?”

You squeezed her hands, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “For now? It means long distance. You go wherever the draft takes you, and I stay here to keep building what I’ve started. We’ll visit each other, and we’ll figure it out as we go. When the time is right, we’ll decide what’s next—together.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her shoulders finally relaxing. “Together,” she echoed, her voice soft but resolute.

You nodded, a flicker of hope warming your chest. “Together.”

She stepped forward, pulling you into a hug that felt like both an apology and a promise. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, as if to hold you closer than the distance you’d both soon face. For the first time since the argument, you felt a glimmer of reassurance. It wouldn’t be easy, but you could make it through this—together.

**********

The morning sun had barely begun its slow crawl across the sky when a soft, rhythmic knock echoed through your apartment. You weren’t surprised—you’d been awake for a while, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to push away the heaviness pressing against your chest. Today was the last full day before Paige left for Dallas, before everything changed.

Taking a steadying breath, you padded toward the door, your heart clenching at the sight of her standing there.

Paige looked like herself, but different. Her usual effortless confidence was tinged with something softer, something quieter. She wore an old hoodie, the sleeves slightly too long, her hands tucked into them like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. But despite the bittersweet weight hanging between you, she was smiling—her familiar, lopsided grin that never failed to make your heart stutter.

"Ready for our adventure?" she asked, her voice light, but her eyes—those bright blue eyes—held something deeper. Nostalgia, maybe. Or that quiet sadness neither of you had dared to name.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, willing yourself to match her energy. Today wasn’t about being sad. It was about holding on to everything you had built together before distance tested it.

You returned her smile, though it felt a little fragile at the edges. “Depends. Where are we going first?”

Paige’s smirk deepened as she lifted her car keys and jingled them between her fingers. “You’ll see.”

There was a spark of mischief in her voice, a glimmer of excitement that made it easier to ignore the ache in your chest.

You sighed playfully, shaking your head as you grabbed your jacket. “You know I hate surprises.”

Paige’s grin widened. “That’s what makes them fun.”

Stepping outside, you locked the door behind you, inhaling the crisp morning air. The world was still quiet, still untouched by the day ahead, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. Like time hadn’t already started pulling you in different directions.

Paige opened the passenger door for you, her hand brushing lightly against your back as you slid inside. That simple touch, so casual yet so familiar, sent warmth through your skin—a reminder of how easy it had always been between you.

As she rounded the front of the car and slipped into the driver’s seat, she glanced over at you, her smirk softening. “You ready?”

You weren’t sure if she was asking about the day ahead or everything that would follow.

Either way, you nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

And with that, she started the engine, the hum of the car filling the quiet morning as you set off on a day you both knew you’d remember for the rest of your lives.

The tiny coffee shop on the corner looked exactly the same as it had the first time you’d stepped inside together—warm, cozy, and filled with the rich aroma of espresso and freshly baked pastries. The soft hum of chatter mixed with the whir of the espresso machine, creating the same comforting soundtrack that had played in the background of that first morning. It felt like stepping back in time, like you could almost see the ghosts of your past selves sitting in the very booth you were about to claim.

Paige walked ahead of you, slipping into your usual spot by the window with the kind of familiarity that made your heart ache. You followed, setting your drink down as you slid into the seat across from her.

She looked around with a small, nostalgic smile, her fingers drumming lightly against the table. “Remember the first time we came here?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with amusement.

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah. And we both swore it wasn’t a date.”

Paige smirked, leaning back against the worn leather seat. “Even though we sat here for three hours, split a muffin, and made fun of all the couples with their matching lattes?”

You grinned, stirring your drink absentmindedly. “And then you got jealous when the barista flirted with me.”

Paige scoffed, but you caught the way her eyes flickered, the way her lips twitched like she was fighting back a smile. “I was not jealous.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then why did you glare at him so hard he messed up my order?”

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous.”

You laughed, tilting your head as you studied her. The way her fingers curled around her cup, the way the early morning light caught the golden strands in her hair, the way her expression softened in a way that was reserved just for you. It was so painfully familiar—so entirely Paige—and yet, there was something different about this moment. A weight in the air, a quiet understanding that this was more than just a casual coffee shop visit.

You exhaled slowly, running a thumb along the edge of your cup. “It’s crazy to think how much has changed since then.”

Paige’s smile faltered for just a second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her eyes. But then, she reached for your hand across the table, lacing her fingers through yours with the same ease as she always had.

“Yeah,” she murmured, squeezing gently. “But some things never do.”

And sitting there, in the place where it all started, you hoped she was right.

The sun had started its slow descent toward the horizon by the time you left the coffee shop, the golden light stretching long shadows across the pavement. The drive to the beach was quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Paige kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting absentmindedly on your thigh, tracing slow, comforting circles with her thumb.

When she pulled into the small, familiar lot near the dunes, neither of you moved right away. You just sat there, taking in the view—the way the sky bled into soft hues of pink and orange, the waves rolling gently against the shore, the familiar stretch of sand where so many memories lived.

“This feels like a movie,” Paige mused, breaking the silence. “The last full day before I leave. Revisiting all our milestones like some kind of emotional montage.”

You let out a small laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Yeah, well, if this were a movie, I’d like to think we’d get a happy ending.”

Paige turned to you then, something unreadable flickering behind her blue eyes. “We will,” she said, like it wasn’t even a question. And maybe, for now, that was enough.

The cool ocean breeze wrapped around you as you walked along the shoreline, your bare feet sinking into the wet sand with each step. Paige’s fingers were laced with yours, her grip warm and steady despite the coolness in the air. The rhythmic crash of the waves filled the space between you, an unspoken reminder of just how much had happened here.

“This is where we said it for the first time,” you murmured, giving her hand a small squeeze.

Paige let out a soft hum of agreement, a smile playing at her lips. “You were so nervous.”

You shot her a look. “I was not.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “You were fidgeting the whole time. Kept staring at the water like it had all the answers.”

You sighed dramatically, nudging her side. “Fine. Maybe I was a little nervous.”

Paige stopped walking then, gently pulling you to a stop with her. The way she turned to face you felt significant, like she was grounding herself in this moment—like she needed you to know she was here, fully present, despite everything changing around you.

“For the record,” she said, her voice softer now, “I was too.”

You blinked at her in surprise, tilting your head. “Paige Bueckers, nervous?”

She let out a small laugh, bumping your shoulder. “Shocking, right?” Then, more seriously, she added, “But only because I knew what I felt for you was real. And I was scared it would be too much, too soon.”

Your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you at the quiet vulnerability in her voice. You reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting your fingertips linger against her cheek.

“It was never too much,” you murmured.

Paige’s lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something more, but instead, she closed the distance between you, pressing a lingering kiss against your lips. The sound of the waves crashing behind you faded into the background as you melted into the moment, into her.

When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“I love you,” she whispered, the words carrying the weight of every memory tied to this place.

You smiled, your hands slipping around her waist, holding her close. “I love you too.”

And as the ocean stretched endlessly before you, it didn’t feel like an ending. It felt like a promise.

By the time you left the beach, the sky had fully darkened, the last traces of sunlight swallowed by the horizon. The drive back into the city was quiet, but not in a heavy way—just comfortable. Paige kept one hand resting lightly on your knee, her thumb tracing absentminded patterns against your skin, like she was trying to memorize you through touch alone.

The restaurant came into view, its warm glow spilling out onto the sidewalk, a beacon of familiarity. It looked exactly the same as it had that first night—when nerves had danced in your stomach, when you and Paige had tiptoed around the fact that this was a date, no matter how casually you had framed it beforehand.

She put the car in park, then turned to you with a small, knowing smile. “Last stop.”

You let out a breath, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. “Crazy how much has happened since the first time we walked in here together.”

Paige grinned, reaching over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Back when you still pretended you weren’t into me?”

You rolled your eyes, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I was trying to play it cool.”

Paige let out a laugh, the sound warm and familiar, before hopping out of the car. She jogged around to your side, opening the door for you with an exaggerated flourish. “Well, lucky for me, I saw right through that.”

Inside, the restaurant was exactly as you remembered it—the dim lighting casting everything in a golden hue, the hum of conversations weaving together, the faint scent of garlic and wine lingering in the air. The same elderly couple sat in their usual corner booth, the same soft jazz played from the overhead speakers. It was as if time had folded in on itself, bringing you right back to where it all began.

The host at the podium looked up, recognition sparking in his eyes as he greeted you with a knowing smile. “Welcome back. Your usual table?”

You exchanged a glance with Paige before nodding.

As you settled into your seats, memories of that first date washed over you—the way your hands had hovered awkwardly over the menu, the way Paige had reached across the table to grab your hand, steady and sure, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Now, she looked at you with that same unwavering warmth, but this time, there were no uncertainties between you.

“This feels like déjà vu,” she murmured, her thumb brushing idly over the back of your hand.

You smiled, squeezing her fingers. “Except this time, we know exactly what we are to each other.”

Paige’s expression softened, something unreadable flickering in her eyes before she reached into her jacket pocket. “I, uh… I got you something.”

Your brows lifted slightly as she slid a small velvet box across the table. The sight of it made your heart stutter, your breath hitching as you carefully lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled against the dark fabric, was a delicate silver necklace—a tiny basketball charm resting at the center, catching the dim light just right.

Paige rubbed the back of her neck, looking almost nervous now. “I know long distance is gonna be hard,” she admitted, her voice quieter than before. “But I wanted you to have something to remind you that no matter where I am, I’m always yours.”

Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the necklace, the weight of her words settling in your chest.

“Paige…” you whispered, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.

She gave you a sheepish smile, her thumb tapping restlessly against the table. “Do you like it?”

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “I love it.”

Relief flickered across her face before she reached for your hand again, her grip warm and reassuring. “We’re gonna make this work,” she said firmly, like she was making a promise. “No matter what.”

You exhaled, letting her words anchor you, letting yourself believe in them. “Yeah,” you said, nodding. “We will.”

And as the night stretched on, filled with laughter and quiet glances and fingers laced together across the table, you realized something—this wasn’t an ending.

It was just another beginning.

The night stretched on longer than either of you expected—not because time slowed, but because neither of you wanted it to end.

After dinner, Paige insisted on driving aimlessly around the city, her hand never leaving yours as she took you down streets filled with memories. The campus gym parking lot, where she’d first pulled you into a kiss after one of her late-night practices. The tiny ice cream shop where she’d tried (and failed) to impress you with her terrible toppings combination. The overlook just outside of town, where you’d once parked and sat on the hood of her car, talking about the future like it was something distant, not something arriving at your doorstep in just a few hours.

By the time you ended up back at your apartment, the sky was already starting to shift from deep blue to soft hues of pink and gold. Neither of you had slept, but exhaustion wasn’t something either of you acknowledged. You spent those last quiet hours curled up together on your couch, Paige’s head resting against your shoulder as she traced lazy circles over the back of your hand with her thumb.

When the alarm on her phone finally went off—its sharp sound slicing through the stillness—Paige let out a long sigh, pressing her face into your neck. “I changed my mind,” she mumbled. “I’m staying.”

You chuckled, running your fingers through her hair. “And what, ditch the WNBA for me?”

She peeked up at you, smirking. “I mean, you’re a pretty compelling reason.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Nice try, Bueckers.”

Still, when she finally stood to grab her bag, you saw the way her expression shifted—the weight of reality settling over both of you.

The drive to the airport was quiet, Paige’s fingers intertwined with yours on the center console. Every now and then, she’d give your hand a squeeze, as if reminding herself that you were still there.

And then, too soon, you were standing inside the terminal.

The airport was a whirlwind of movement—travelers rushing to their gates, the hum of announcements over the PA system, and the low murmur of conversations all blending into a chaotic symphony. But for you and Paige, time seemed to slow.

You stood together near the security checkpoint, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. Paige’s carry-on bag was slung over her shoulder, and she kept fidgeting with the strap, her usual confidence replaced by a nervous energy.

“This feels… surreal,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, your throat tight. “Yeah, it does.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled by everything left unsaid. Then, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small box, holding it out to her with a soft smile.

Paige frowned slightly, taking it. “What’s this?”

“Just something to remind you of home.”

She opened the box carefully, her eyes widening as she pulled out a sleek, black leather journal. Her fingers ran over the cover, tracing the embossed initials P.B. in the corner.

Flipping it open, she found the first page already filled in—your handwriting neat and familiar.

“For every new chapter of your life, and every thought you can’t put into words. No matter where you go, I’m always listening. Love, Y/N.”

Paige blinked a few times, her thumb grazing over the words as she let out a soft chuckle. “You’re really making sure I don’t forget to call, huh?”

You smirked. “I figured if you ever run out of things to say to me, you can write them down instead.”

She exhaled a small laugh, shaking her head. “I love it,” she murmured, holding the journal to her chest before meeting your gaze again. “I love you.”

Your heart clenched, but you kept your smile steady. “I love you too.”

Paige laughed softly, but you saw the way her eyes glossed over. “I’ll use it every day.”

Reaching into her bag, Paige pulled out something of her own and handed it to you. It was one of her jerseys, neatly folded. You unfolded it, your breath catching when a piece of paper slipped out from inside.

Curious, you opened the note, Paige’s handwriting filling the page.

“Y/N,This jersey is just a piece of fabric, but it’s part of me—just like you are. Wherever I go, whatever I do, you’ll always be my home. I love you, more than words can say.Paige”

Your eyes flickered up to meet hers, your throat tightening. “Paige…”

She stepped closer, cupping your cheek with her hand. “I mean it,” she whispered. “No matter how far I go, I’m yours. Always.”

You leaned into her touch, swallowing back the overwhelming emotions pressing against your ribs. “I’ll be at every game,” you promised, voice thick. “Front row, screaming my lungs out.”

Paige chuckled, brushing her thumb against your cheek. “Oh, I know. You’re gonna be my biggest distraction.”

You smirked through the ache in your chest. “That’s the plan.”

The final boarding call for her flight crackled through the speakers, and Paige sighed, glancing toward the gate.

“I guess this is it,” she murmured.

You nodded, exhaling shakily. “For now.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you like she never wanted to let go. “I’ll call you as soon as I land,” she whispered.

“You better,” you said, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

As she finally pulled back, her hand lingered in yours, and you felt the absence the moment her fingers slipped away.

You watched her walk toward the gate, her bracelets catching the light as she waved one last time before disappearing into the crowd.

And though your heart ached with the weight of goodbye, you held her jersey close, knowing this wasn’t the end—just the start of a new chapter.

[fellominaarcher]

then you're the best part — Giselle x fem!reader

↳ Fic type: oneshot

↳ Content warning: FLOOOFYY & healthy relationship & maybe a little boring

↳ main m.list | æspa m.list

Beep.

The front door chimed softly—someone had just keyed in the passcode. A click followed, the door unlocking, then the motion sensor light flickered on as someone stepped inside.

Pink-haired and exhausted, Aeri Uchinaga toed off her sleek YSL boots at the threshold, sighing as she sat for a moment on the step just past the genkan. The weight of the day—rehearsals, meetings has finally slid off her shoulders. What time was it now? She checked briefly. 1:03 AM. Too late to be out, but too early to sleep on an anniversary night like this.

Boots off, bag down, she stood and stretched, already hearing faint sounds from the kitchen—pots clinking, water running, familiar domestic noises that belonged to her girl. Y/N was still up, naturally. She was always the night owl of the two, often awake until 3 or 4 AM, either cooking, dancing in socks, or binge-watching some horror show she’d rewatch a million times.

"I'm hooomeee," Aeri called out in a sing-song voice as she passed the kitchen, waving lazily even if she wasn’t sure Y/N saw it. She headed straight to their shared bedroom.

From the kitchen, Y/N’s voice rang out, playful and warm, “Okay-ieee, go shower, lady!”

Aeri chuckled under her breath, already feeling lighter.

Outside, a gentle midnight rain fell. Not heavy. Just that calm, rhythmic kind—the kind of rain that makes you want to curl up in bed or slow-dance barefoot in the living room.

Soft footsteps pattered against the wood flooring behind her. Then, two excited barks.

Aeri smiled without turning around. “Cooper!” she cooed, kneeling just in time for her beloved Sheepadoodle to crash into her arms, tail wagging so hard it thumped against the walls.

“Someone missed me,” she giggled, letting the dog lick her cheeks and chin as she scratched behind his ears. “You’re such a good boy, huh?”

She puckered her lips for a kissy face, and Cooper gave her a dramatic, wet lick right across the mouth. Laughing, she stood up again. “I gotta shower, bub. It’s way past your bedtime.” She tried to sound motherly to a dog.

She puckered her lips for a kissy face, and Cooper gave her a dramatic, wet lick right across the mouth. Laughing, she stood up again. “I gotta shower, bub. It’s way past your bedtime.”

She gave him one last pat before grabbing a towel from the closet, already peeling off her shirt and jeans as she stepped further into the bedroom. Bare-shouldered and flushed from the heat inside the apartment, she padded into the bathroom after removing her makeup in a quick routine. The mirror fogged up fast as she stepped into the shower, letting the hot water hit her tired muscles and wash the day away.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Y/N was focused. Her hands moved with practiced ease, slicing tofu into perfect cubes, then pushing them gently into a bubbling pot of kimchi jjigae. The soup was thick and red, made with love—aged kimchi, green onions, tofu, thinly sliced pork belly, and a dash of sesame oil for extra depth.

The rice cooker dinged in the background. Hot steam poured out as she opened it, scooping fluffy white rice into matching ceramic bowls. Everything was almost ready.

This wasn’t just a late-night craving. It was their third anniversary. Three years of being together—through comebacks, rumors, camera flashes, and stolen vacations. And though Aeri had been booked all day and couldn’t make it home until now, Y/N didn’t mind. She never did, not when it came to Aeri.

Sipping her Coke from a wine glass just for the vibe, Y/N started plating the side dishes with care.

And then enter Cooper.

The Sheepadoodle padded into the kitchen like he owned it, blinking up at her with that innocent, curious look he always wore. Y/N paused, mid-reach for a spoon, and blinked back. It was a full-on staring contest.

And just like that—like a light bulb clicking on—Y/N grinned.

A mischievous little idea formed in her mind, curling up like steam from the soup. “Come here, Cooper,” she whispered, crouching down and motioning to him like a cartoon villain who’d just hatched a plan. “Let’s do something before your mommy comes back.”

Fresh out of the shower, Aeri felt like a brand-new person. Her long pink hair was loosely gathered with a claw clip, some stray bangs falling around her face in soft, messy waves. Dressed in an oversized tee and pajama shorts, she padded barefoot to the dining area, the scent of something spicy and savory drawing her closer.

The lights were dimmed just right. It was cozy, warm and the table was already set with utensils, drinks, and a small Post-it note placed neatly on one of the chairs.

“Have a seat, Ms. Uchinaga.”

Aeri chuckled, the corner of her lips tugging up in fond amusement. “Y/N, you’re so dramatic,” she muttered to herself, but she obeyed, pulling out the chair and sitting down with a soft sigh.

Right on cue, Y/N emerged from the kitchen, holding a tray like a proud little chef at her Michelin-starred restaurant. “Welcome to Y/N’s Restaurant. Hope you enjoy your supper, ma’am,” she grinned, placing the tray on the table and beginning to arrange the plates with care: steaming kimchi jjigae, warm rice, pickled radish, and side dishes arranged with love.

“Hmm, thank you. I’d like one serving of hot food and one serving of you for supper,” Aeri replied with a wink, locking in with Y/N’s playful bit.

Y/N raised a brow and tilted her head dramatically. “Cannibalism? Ma’am, you want to eat me for supper?” she whispered in mock horror before snickering as she placed the kimchi bowl and radish pickles in front of her girlfriend.

Aeri leaned in slightly, the atmosphere suddenly shifting from play to something more tender, her voice softer. “Not when you look this cute.”

Y/N sat down across from her, resting her elbows gently on the table, her chin in her hands as she watched Aeri fondly. “Happy third anniversary, baby. I love you,” she said, her voice warm, eyes glowing with that look, the one that only ever belonged to Aeri.

Aeri’s eyes met hers. A quiet smile formed before she exhaled softly. “Thank you, Y/N. Happy third anniversary to us, cutie. I love you more.” She reached out to take Y/N’s hand, interlacing their fingers naturally, like breathing.

They stayed like that for a moment, letting the silence settle between them. Not awkward, not forced. Just full.

“…And you still owe me a slow dance,” Y/N added, lips curling into a sly smile as she raised a brow.

Aeri laughed under her breath, nodding with a hum. “I haven’t forgotten. A deal’s a deal.” She winked teasingly at Y/N.

Y/N turned her head, then gave a gentle whistle.

Within seconds, Cooper came bounding in from the hallway, except this time, the Sheepadoodle was wearing a birthday cap slightly lopsided on his head. Taped onto the hat was another bright yellow Post-it, clearly written in Y/N’s handwriting.

It read: “From your son, happy 3rd anniversary mommy.”

Aeri burst out laughing, nearly tearing up from the sight. “You didn’t—Y/N!” she squealed, covering her mouth as she watched Cooper sit proudly in front of the table, clearly oblivious to the paper hat flopping over one eye.

“Had to include the real MVP,” Y/N grinned, leaning back with pride. “He helped with the plan.”

Cooper barked, tail wagging like a metronome of joy, and Aeri gestured for him to come closer. “C’mere, baby,” she cooed, pulling out the chair next to her. With a proud little hop, the Sheepadoodle climbed up and settled beside her, sitting tall like he belonged there.

Across the table, Y/N was already laughing, full belly, full heart. “He looks like he’s about to file taxes,” she joked, pointing at the lopsided birthday hat barely hanging onto Cooper’s head. Aeri laughed harder, pulling off the yellow Post-it.

She gave it a quick glance, then let out another giggle, the kind that made her eyes crinkle and her dimples pop. Before she forgot, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of Cooper, committing this ridiculous moment to memory.

Dinner was filled with warm bites of kimchi jjigae, comfortable conversation, and lots of "here, try this one" across the table. The soup was just spicy enough to fight off the cold rain outside, and Y/N's cooking, while humble, was always her love language, always just what Aeri needed.

Later that night, the two of them settled into the living room, their hands brushing, laughter trailing behind them like perfume. The city was quiet beyond the windows, and the rain hadn’t let up, still drizzling gently, like the sky itself was sighing with them.

And then, another surprise.

Aeri blinked. “What…?”

The lights were dimmed, but in front of them, strung across the living room wall, was a 3-meter-long trail of Christmas tree lights, glowing gold, green, and red, throwing soft shadows across their features. The same ones they’d packed away in January, the ones that made the room feel like a home.

From the corner of the room, the Bluetooth speaker came to life—click, a small buzz—and then, soft and low, the opening chords of “Best Part” by Daniel Caesar ft. H.E.R. played.

Y/N turned to her with that signature grin, that confident little tilt of her head. “Dance with me.” She invited Aeri with a hand extended out.

Aeri didn’t even hesitate.

They met in the center of the living room, arms slipping around each other like they were molded that way. Y/N’s hands found Aeri’s waist; Aeri's arms wrapped gently around her neck. The lights cast halos across their faces, catching on lashes, lips, pink hair and sleepy eyes.

“You don’t know, babe…” the lyrics melted into the room like honey.

Y/N leaned in slightly, whispering in Aeri’s ear, “I forgot to say earlier... congratulations, baby. To you. To aespa. Billboard Women in Music? That’s insane. I’m so proud of you.” Her eyes bored into Aeri's dark eyes.

Aeri exhaled a laugh, shaking her head bashfully. “Thank you… that means a lot coming from the prettiest girl in this apartment.” She responded with a grin on her face.

“Well, Cooper’s very flattered,” Y/N teased.

Right on cue, the Sheepadoodle spun in circles around them, yipping with joy and tail wagging furiously. His little hat had finally fallen off. The couple broke into laughter, their bodies swaying with the music.

“You’re the coffee that I need in the morning…”

Aeri leaned in and pressed her lips to Y/N’s. It wasn’t showy or rushed, just a soft kiss that tasted like comfort and rain and love in its purest form. She didn’t let go. She buried her face into the crook of Y/N’s neck, breathing her in.

“I’m such a lucky girl,” Aeri whispered against her skin.

Then she bent down, scooping Cooper up in her arms, the cute dog wiggling excitedly as she brought him back to their little dance floor.

“Okay, come on, you too,” she said with a giggle. “Family dance.”

And so, under the golden glow of borrowed Christmas lights, while the rain kept singing to the windows, Aeri and Y/N slow danced in their pajamas—arms wrapped around each other, and Cooper sandwiched between them, tail wagging in time with the music.

It was perfect.

æspa m.list | main m.list

[artsyannierose]

Hii!! In response to your recent post: I know you asked for fic recs but what are some fics that you've enjoyed and could recommend?? Any weresonamy fics are ESPECIALLY appreciated LOL

FIC RECS ACTUALLY I’VE BEEN MEANING TO DO THIS FOR SOOOO LONGGGG

SonAmy Fic Recs!!

__

Key:

✅ - Finished

❌ - Unfinished

☁️ - Fluff

💔 - Angst

🫂 - Comfort

🫶 - my favorites

__

Oneshots ⬇️

Canon Compliant:

Canon compliant is like i can kind of see this happening even if its a bit of a stretch

Reaching Out - by overdoxicity ✅ 🫂 🫶

Have I mentioned that the Metal Virus is my all-time favorite Sonic storyline? Unsurprisingly I love a fic where Sonic comforts Amy in her distress about the whole situation.

This might as well be canon in my eyes

Amy’s Happy Place - by MakutaMatata ✅ ☁️ 🫶

Just Amy’s thoughts about being in Sonic’s arms SHES SO CUTE THEYRE SO CUTE AAAAAAA

The Cards Never Lie - by MakutaMatata ✅

Small fic riding on nostalgia where Amy decides to visit Little Planet but is interrupted by Eggman, but luckily a certain blue someone is there to fret about her

FLUFFF THEY’RE SO CUTEEE

The Test of Love: A Novelization - by BigKlingy ✅

As the title suggests, this fic is Sonic 06’s “Trial of Love” in the format of a novel, and I’m particularly fond of the way that Elise isn’t demonized, yet Sonic realizes how Amy is a perfect fit for him

Too bad he doesn’t remember any of it smh

Debí Haberme Decidido Antes - by BronySonicFan ✅

This is in Spanish, but for those who can read it, it’s Sonic inner thoughts regarding Amy whilst running around the Starfall Islands during the events of Sonic Frontiers, especially following those open world voicelines about her.

gossamer love - by shizuumi151 ✅ ☁️

Fluff fic where Sonic stays at Amy’s house to ride out a storm and with the amount of romantic tension and flirty banter they have you’d be convinced that they’re dating by now but ofc they’re not because we love torturing ourselves with “PLEASE JUST KISS ALREADY”

Unseen Passion - by FlashDriver ✅ ☁️ 🫶

A little heavy on the flirty Amy here but Amy finally gets those glasses that she honestly desperately needs, and Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles argue about which is the perfect view on Angel Island to show her first with her new glasses.

one rose-tinted morning - by shizuumi151 ✅ ☁️

Sonic surprises Amy on her birthday with quite a few sweet gifts.

more fluff (surprising that i have so much fluff on this rec list)

The Rains of Kronos Island - by MakutaMatata ✅ ☁️

Set right before the Core Four leave the Starfall Islands, Amy and Sonic finally get to share that umbrella…and a little heart-to-heart

more fluff nom nom nom

Silver the Shipper - by FlashDriver ✅ ☁️

Silver practically causes Sonic’s heart to go into insane tachycardia with the simple question “Do you love Amy Rose?”

insinuated silvaze

A Measure of Trust - by FlashDriver ✅ ☁️

Maybe a bit OOC but I love my overtly doting Amy

Knux (and by knux i mean rouge) is having a costume party and Sonic’s just going to have to trust Amy to pick out a good costume for him.

Canon Divergent:

either there’s a kiss or it’s undeniably romantic in nature, or not something i see happening in canon

Fading - by bouquets ✅ 💔🫶🫶🫶

Probably my all time favorite SonAmy oneshot, a small, angsty one where Amy gets hurt on the battlefield and Sonic’s with her.

Sonic also thinks a bit more about his feelings about Amy but imo the way he perceives her in the beginning is so, so perfect.

Love You Like You Love Me - by RebieaZ ✅ ☁️ 🫶

Again, a fic about Amy returning from her spreading-love trip, and Sonic couldn’t be more thrilled to see her.

He’s also ready to finally admit a few things to her…and maybe give some other things a try

Rememberance - by Skyelara ✅

A little bit of a romanticization of Sonic and Amy’s past experiences together across different timelines, but with some sweet nothings thrown in there to sweeten the deal hehe

also i love it when they think the other is crazy for being willing to sacrifice themself for the other but would absolutely do the same

At The Edge of a Cliff - Luescris ✅ 🫂

The guilt of letting such horrible things happen by the hand of Eggman gets to Sonic, and Amy is the one to remind him of the hero her is to her, and to everyone else.

approximate proximity - by windwhisper ✅ ☁️

Sonic and Amy aren’t dating but if you looked at them you’d probably think they’re dating CAUSE THEY TOTALLY SHOULD

idw sonamy my beloved

The Red Thread of Fate - by Jouska_the_Deer (Angst and Alliums) ✅ ☁️

Anyone who knows me knows I’m a sucker for the whole red thread of fate trope (heck i made a whole dtiys about it)

Sonic planned to ask Amy out but instead gets dragged into a wild goose chase looking for the ancient matchmaker (which kinda ends up being a date in of itself) because Amy is tired of not knowing whether or not Sonic and her will ever be a thing.

Cinematic Universe:

Sonic 4: A Fan’s Hypothetical Ending - by Anonymous567 ✅ 🫂

Bittersweet prediction of how the 4th movie might end

If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for bittersweet/angsty fics, but taking a relatively wholesome and fluffy couple (furthermore movie sonic, the most innocent incarnation) and giving them angst?

HECK YEAH GIVE IT TO ME

Alternate Universe:

Serendipity - by KokoLockhart ✅ ☁️

Cute lil fic about Sonic running across a drenched Amy in the rain after having a horrible date, and he offers her an umbrella cause what’s SonAmy without umbrellas <3

Snapshot - by FlashDriver

Amelia Rose and her dad set out to find the mythical Blue Blur which everyone else thinks is a phony but ofc Amy and her dad don’t

idk if this is a full blown AU but its certainly interesting

Multi-Chapter ⬇️

Canon Compliant:

Steal You Away - by luigi-is-stellar ✅ 🫂🫶

One of the first sonamy fics i ever read if iirc, but it’s about what Sonic and Amy do in their downtime, or offscreen lol

Set during season 3 of sonic x, how i miss x sonamy…

i LOVE their banter in this, and Sonic is just SOOOO sweet to Amy i feel like my stomach contents are going to end up on the floor from how sweet he is and also how it all fits neatly into the inbetweens of each episode is stellar

Leftovers - by stagemanager ✅ 🫂

Becoming a werehog didn’t leave Sonic without lingering effects, and Amy and Tails are the ones to find that out

here’s ur weresonamy lol sorry i don’t think i have any more :(((

Canon Divergent:

Breaking Point: A Sonic Forces Rewrite - GoldRingsAm3 ✅ 💔 🫂 🫶

This isn’t necessarily a SonAmy centric fic, but there’s a good amount of SonAmy in it. The beginning follows Sonic and his awful experience in space during Sonic Forces, then later follows his recovery when his friends finally rescue him. Real cute how Amy wakes him up 👀

Sry i really like my angst and comfort fics

The Wind and The Rose - by Skyelara ❌

Collection of SonAmy drabbles for a 100 theme challenge, but they’re all adorable

little difficult to generalize a summary since they’re all pretty different

Starfall - by super_tails ❌

A full fledged fic set just after Sonic Frontiers, where Sonic has to face a new foe looking for the chaos emeralds. tbf this just started but im interested at the moment so ill keep it here for now As of the moment that I’m writing this, the first chapter starts off with obvious romantic tension between Sonic and Amy, and a near-kiss, but idk where this is headed. Seems promising though!

Miscellaneous ⬇️

Sonic Boom:

Boom Boom Into My Heart - by gojos_favorite_girl ✅ ☁️

Who doesn’t love them some good ol’ boom sonamy

Fic in which they FINALLY get together, but not without the inevitable bickering and banter.

Alternate Universe:

What Was Stolen - by Beeextraordinary ❌ 💔 🫶

i’m sure every SonAmy fan has heard of this one by now but it doesn’t make it any less good

AU with Princess Amy training for a championship battle and she’s trained by delinquent thief Sonic with whom (whoopsie daisy) she falls in love with, and they’re trying to fight the unfair system imposed upon those like Sonic.

Her Blue Barista - by KokoLockhart ✅ ☁️ 🫶

Another one of my faves, a little meet-cute of overworked student Amy and barista Sonic, except he’s flirty asf and Amy can never help getting charmed by her blue blur in any universe <3

Enchanted - by trincie_sparkle ❌ ☁️

Both Amy and Sonic are performers, though Amy is a soloist and Sonic in a band with Tails and Knux. Sonic is selectively mute and has a difficult time talking with other people, but ends up opening up to Amy. Cute feels and romantic tension.

__

My Fics:

Feel free to check out some of the stuff I write lol

Catching Up (with an umbrella) ✅ ☁️

Start of a series I’m working on where Sonic starts to seek out Amy’s attention much more than he used to

domestic sonamy, really

Night of a Rose, Chip, and a Werehog ✅ ☁️

this is OLD. REALLY OLD. but its kinda sorta coherent and cute so ig i’ll put it here pls don’t judge 🙏🙏

It’s just if Amy was in the short “Night of the Werehog”

__

I’ll update this list regularly as I read and find more fics to add to my collection heheheehehe

I hope this is helpful!! Happy reading y’all <3

And please support all these wonderful authors who write these spectacular stories for free, they are the salt of this earth <333

[casedclosedbye]

The Missing tag

Bucky Barnes x reader

Oneshot

Summary: What started as a simple misunderstanding over a missing dog tag escalates, with both of you blaming each other. You storm out in frustration, hurt by Bucky’s stubbornness and lack of understanding.

The apartment was unusually quiet, save for the sound of the occasional rain pattering against the windows. The kind of quiet that settled into your bones, heavy and thick, the way things did when tension grew thick enough to suffocate the air.

You paced in front of the couch, every step faster than the last, the anger and frustration bubbling up inside you. The argument had started small, a simple misunderstanding—at least that’s how you thought of it. But Bucky’s dismissive attitude had turned it into something else entirely.

“You’re really gonna blame me for this?” you snapped, glaring at him as he stood in the kitchen, his arms crossed. His posture was tense, defensive, and every second that ticked by only seemed to fuel your anger.

Bucky didn’t flinch. “You’re the one who lost it. I told you to give it back, and what do I get? One dog tag gone.” He gestured at the counter with a flick of his wrist, his voice low and sharp. “I’m not sure how you lose something that important, but here we are.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “I didn’t lose it, Bucky! I didn’t even have them when you took them back. You left one of them on the bathroom sink after you took them from me. I didn’t touch it!” You were yelling now, the frustration that had been building finally spilling over.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as if he was trying to make sense of what you were saying, but instead of looking guilty, he looked almost annoyed. "So what? It’s your fault now that it went missing?”

“Yes, it’s your fault!" you shot back. "You took them back from me, then left one of them on the sink when you went to shower! How is that my fault? You think I’m just going to sit here and pretend you didn’t make a mistake?”

Bucky’s face hardened. His expression shifted, that wall of armor he so often wore slipping into place as his temper flared. “I’m not gonna stand here and let you accuse me of things I didn’t do. You were supposed to take care of them.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “I was careful with them, Bucky! I didn’t lose them. You left it there!”

There was a long, drawn-out silence as the words hung between you both, neither one of you willing to back down. But the tension in the room was suffocating, like it was building up to something much worse.

“I don’t need this right now,” you muttered, shaking your head. The hurt in your chest was overwhelming, your voice trembling. “You always do this. You always make it my fault when something goes wrong. I’m so sick of it, Bucky.”

Without waiting for a response, you grabbed your jacket and stormed out, slamming the door behind you. The cold hit you immediately as you walked out into the hallway, but it did nothing to ease the anger or the sadness that twisted your gut.

Bucky stood there in the kitchen, his mind racing, a mix of anger and guilt clouding his thoughts. He had never meant for any of this to happen. Sure, he had taken the dog tags back, but in his mind, they were just… tags. The connection wasn’t something he had verbalized much, but it was important to him, and now… now everything felt wrong.

But it wasn’t just the tags. It was you. It was always you.

Hours later, Bucky found himself alone in the apartment, the weight of the argument still heavy in the air. He had tried to distract himself, tried to get his mind off everything, but it was impossible. The longer he was by himself, the more the guilt ate at him. He hadn’t meant to hurt you, but his pride had gotten in the way. He knew that now.

It was late, far too late, but he found himself walking to the bathroom. He needed to clear his head, maybe wash his face and go to bed. He stood in front of the mirror for a long moment, staring at his reflection as if he could figure out where everything had gone wrong.

That’s when he saw it.

The dog tag.

There, lying innocently on the bathroom sink where he had left it the day before. He hadn’t even remembered to pick it up. His stomach sank as he realized it had been there all along, just waiting for him to notice. He had left it. It wasn’t your fault. It was his.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair as guilt hit him like a punch to the gut.

He cursed under his breath, realizing how much he had messed up. The argument had been petty. The way he’d blown it all out of proportion—it was foolish. But even more than that, he felt the sting of knowing he had let you walk out of the door hurt, all because of his stubbornness and pride.

Bucky didn’t waste another second. He grabbed the dog tag, his heart racing. Without thinking, he rushed out the door, the need to fix things with you consuming him. He couldn’t let it end like this.

You didn’t expect to feel so… alone when you walked into your friend's apartment. The anger was still there, hot and stinging, but beneath it, there was a pang of sadness. You had left because you needed space, needed to think, but you never imagined Bucky would dig his heels in like that. He never really saw things from your perspective, it seemed. And maybe that was what hurt the most.

Your phone buzzed on the counter, the notification lighting up the screen with Bucky’s name. You ignored it. You didn’t feel like dealing with it right now. You needed time to cool off, to let your emotions settle.

But then you heard a knock on the door. You frowned, wondering if your friend was coming back, or if someone else was visiting. It wasn’t until the door opened, and you saw Bucky standing there, his expression frantic, eyes wide, that you realized he’d come to find you.

"Bucky?" you whispered, your heart suddenly in your throat.

“I messed up,” he said, breathless. “I shouldn’t have—" He paused, taking a deep breath as if trying to gather his thoughts. "I shouldn’t have blamed you for losing the tag. It was my fault. I left it there on the sink after I took it back, and I didn’t even realize until now. I… I was too stubborn, and I hurt you. I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t want to admit I was wrong.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your mind racing. He was standing there, his eyes soft and regretful, holding the dog tag in his hand like it was the most important thing in the world.

“You always think you’re right,” you said quietly, the frustration still lingering in your voice, but the edge had softened. “I just wanted you to see it wasn’t my fault. I care about those tags. I care about you, and I hate that you think I’d lose something that matters to you.”

“I know,” Bucky said, stepping closer. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His voice was quieter now, sincere, and the tension between you both seemed to dissipate just a little.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It’s not just the tag, Bucky. It’s about us—how we always seem to fight, and then no one wants to apologize first.”

Bucky reached out, gently taking your hand. His touch was warm, comforting. "I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t want to lose you over something so stupid."

You nodded, squeezing his hand. Maybe things weren’t perfect. Maybe it wasn’t all fixed in one conversation. But for the first time in hours, you felt the anger start to fade. There was hope again, quiet and uncertain, but it was there.

And maybe that was enough for now.

[ink-stainedkiss]

Graying Skies - Megumi Fushiguro

Synopsis: A ceaseless thunderstorm broods over Jujutsu Tech and it makes you begin to loose sleep. Thankfully a just as restless Megumi is here to provide company.

Since it was raining today, I decided to incorporate it into my work. I am so happy to finally create a work about my favorite grumpy boy🫶. Feel free to request more Oneshots like this if you enjoyed it!

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, but it’s just making out

Word Count: 1.2k

Thunder clapped violently above head, shaking the entire building, and making the raging thunderstorm outside worse. Bolts of lightning came crashing down, their natural light flashing through the crack of your curtain. It had been raining all day, so you had to go to classes with the continuous pattering of droplets hitting the roof to complete it. The atmosphere made everyone at Jujutsu Tech tired. Gojo Sensei even turned on a movie because he was too sleepy to teach, which was understandable. You couldn’t train because the workspaces were slick and Principal Yaga was weary his students would catch a cold if they were outside for too long.

Classes had ended and everyone was in their assigned dorms. Some people like Yuji and Nobara had already passed out, unfazed by the weather, but you found yourself on the opposite side of the scale. You sat on your bed, knees tucked into your chest as your eyes stared at the darkened sky. Usually, you were fine about going to sleep in the rain, but something was nagging you tonight. You decided to wait it out since tomorrow would be the weekend and you could sleep in forever how long you wanted. A few candles scattered in your dorm created a soft glow and even with the occasional cracks of light and booming thunder, it was calming.

Your eyes felt heavy and you wondered if you should try to go to bed, but just as that thought appeared, there was a soft knock at your door. You turned, brow raised. Who would be knocking at this time? “Come in.” The person on the other side of the door pushed it slowly open and when they came into view, you were a bit stunned,” Megumi?” He stood in your doorway, looking away from your curious gaze, almost like he was embarrassed. He was in his sleep clothes, a black long-sleeve and simple grey sweatpants.

“Sorry if I woke you,” he mumbled. You giggled softly, motioning to the lit candles,” You’re alright, I’ve been up for a while.” He nodded,” You couldn’t sleep?” You shook your head to his question,” No and it looks like you can’t either.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly,” Yeah, I was trying to find someone else who I could stay up with…” The fact that Megumi had gone to your door first without question was something he was going to keep to himself.

You watched in amusement as he shifted on the balls of his feet, clearly struggling to sound his thoughts. You scooted to the wall side of your bed,” Well, I am in the mood for some company.” Even in the darkly lit room, you could see him exhale out of relief and he walked over. When he was sitting next to you, you noticed his tense position and tried to make it less unpleasant.

“Do you like the rain?” Your question was barely audible and if the boy wasn’t right next to you, Megumi probably would have never heard it. He thought for a second, noting how you weren’t looking for an answer right away,” Not that much,” facing him, there was no unintelligible expression on your face. Nothing that agreed or disagreed with his claim, but you were clearly telling him to continue.

Megumi shifted on your mattress, sinking further into the cushions,” It mostly annoys me. It makes everything soggy and it can drench you if you were ever caught in it.” He smiled a bit as he kept saying,” When I was a kid, I would ask my dad to stop the rain since I wanted to play outside.” Though a tiny grin was on his face, you could feel the bittersweetness of the memory.

Instinctively, you scooted closer, your shoulders touching, and continued to listen to the boy,” But I don’t despise it. I think the older I got the more I learned how relaxing it can be.” Your eyes caught onto the window again as it lit up in a blue-grayish color,” I think I like it more than some people.” Though you didn’t know, Megumi turned to you, his eyes scanning your calm face as you watched the rain pour down.

“Most call it gloomily and I can understand why they don’t like it, but rain can bring people together.” In the moment it was as if a bubble was formed around the two of you and anything outside of it didn’t matter,” If someone forgets their umbrella, one of their friends, or a stranger offers to share theirs. Kids enjoy it because of the large puddles, but even some adults can’t resist the urge to jump into the water.” Megumi wasn’t sure what was in the air, but you sounded so beautiful even if you were just talking about rain.

A warm smile spread onto your lips as you recalled classic movies,” And I would kill to share a kiss in the rain. There’s something so intimate about not caring if your clothes or hair are ruined and only focusing on the love of their life.” There was a beat of silence and you let out a tiny giggle,” Sorry, I think I’ve been watching too many romance-“

You were cut off by warm lips pressing into yours. Coincidentally, a strike of lightning came down once you realized what was happening. Megumi was kissing you. Megumi Fushiguro was kissing you. You instantly brought your hands to his face, pulling him closer. Your lips moved in synchronization as if you’ve done this a thousand times before. Little pants pushed past your lips as you backed away for only a second for air, then moved right back to each other. You tangled your hand into his raven hair and he easily lifted you to sit on his lap.

Your room was filled with breathless gasps and muffled grunts as you moved as one. The tension grew as Megumi moved to your neck, craving your skin against his lips. Allowing him more access, you craned your neck back and let out a faint moan as he suckled on your skin.

Sadly, a rather loud and disruptive Thunder echoed across the campus, making both you and Megumi jolt in surprise. You made eye contact with the boy and then began to giggle. Megumi thought I was the prettiest noise he’d ever heard and couldn’t help but chuckle. When your laughs died down, you stared down at Megumi, noting how the orange glow in your room decorated his face beautifully. He was so gorgeous like this. Messy hair, flushed cheeks, and bruised lips. So caught up in his appearance, you leaned in, planting another sweet kiss on his lips.

Pulling away, you rested your head against his own, continuing to play with the back of his hair. A thought crossed Megumi’s mind that had him smirking. His eyes examined your face,” Ya know, I don’t think I mind the rain anymore.” A hearty giggle left your lips and you nodded in glee,” Yeah? You’re not wishing it would go away?” He shook his head, sultry eyes landing on your plump lips once again.

You leaned in, interlocking your mouth with his once again. Unexpectedly, he flipped you over, making a squeal leave your lips. The shock was quick to pass as you felt Megumi wrap his arms around your body. You rested on your side and the boy held you close, his face nuzzled into your neck. You smiled at his clinginess, which he would never show in public, and placed a peck on his cheek,” Goodnight Megs.” He gave a muffled response that was filled with sleep.

Megumi had come to your room to hopefully wind up cuddling with you, but he ended up with something ten times better.

[thinemoonshine]

⋆𐙚₊ 𝓹𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝓴𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 ˚⊹♡

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ it’s not his fault. she left when they’re meant to be together. he just wants to keep their promise

good boy!jungwon x bad girl!reader content(s): angst, suggestive, jungwon fell hard and can’t get up at all, profanities, (y/n) is a teeny bit mean in a way where she’s selfish, jungwon is obsessed, won is described to be like a cat—highly jealous, sneaky and sly, toxic relationship type: oneshot

yang jungwon is like an affectionate cat. he loves nuzzling against (y/n) with arms curled around her and pawing whenever he wants attention or to get comfy. his favourite position is to have his face buried in the crook of her neck where her scent is the sweetest.

yang jungwon is like a clingy cat. he's always tailing after (y/n) whenever she's around and sits himself near her with doe eyes blinking prettily for her to notice and look. and when she does, you can almost hear him purr with delight as he grins with glee.

yang jungwon is like a jealous cat. he hates other men approaching his person. his round eyes will sharpen to blades and pierce anyone who dares approach (y/n). his hand will find home around her waist, hip or even shoulder just to show everyone she already has a pet. and if they still don't get it, he might just hiss.

yang jungwon is like a cat, through and through. and just like cats, he can be a teensy bit…cunning.

…

……

jungwon didn’t like what he saw.

his typically soft, playful eyes turned sharp and glaring at the scene he witnessed in front of him. even with the heavy rain that blurred his surroundings into splashes of colour and indistinguishable shapes, he could skillfully recognize (y/n) who was leaned against a lamp post with a man practically sucking her face off.

his hands traveled the surface of her clothes—clawing and pulling at the wet fabric—with the clear intent of wanting to just rip it off. thankfully, he still had some public decency and had left them on.

when they finally pulled away, jungwon’s seething breaths hitched momentarily at the sight of (y/n)’s radiant smile and it was as if she stood under a spotlight. with the moonlight that shone on her glistening skin and sparkling eyes, it pained him to see how gleeful she seemed to be with another beside him.

and he hated it. with all his heart and being.

his knuckles turned as white as a sheet as his fingers tightened around his now dripping wet phone with a screen flashing a bright blue dot on a map that marked (y/n)’s location.

so…this is why she hadn’t answered his texts.

no matter. just like the other boys she fooled around with, he’ll just be another toy she’ll cast aside.

—

that was a week ago and now, jungwon’s enjoying his little ‘won and (y/n)’ saturday sleepover with his head on her lap, her playing with his fluffy blonde hair while they’re both watching the show playing on TV.

it’s peaceful and lighthearted until the girl sharply clicks her tongue—grabbing the attention of the young man on her lap. he flips onto his back to look up at her who’s scowling at her phone.

“what’s up?” he asks, blinking with wide curious eyes.

the girl sighs before throwing her gadget aside. “just another guy who bailed. seriously, what is it these days? all the guys i reach out to always agree at first but then after we confirm the plans, they suddenly ‘can’t make it’ because of some sh!tyy excuse or whatever.”

she groans and lets her head fall back against the couch, her hand also dropping from his fluffy locks. “it’s been so long since i got laid. am i not pretty enough or something?”

jungwon gasps at that, more offended than she is and he quickly clasps her hand in his. “you’re the prettiest, (y/n). the most beautiful person i know inside and out. they’re the ones who are jerks.”

(y/n) chuckles at this and looks down at him who’s smiling up at her almost expectantly, as if hoping for validation or praise. she shakes her head with endearment before using her other hand to brush his bangs back. “but of course, you’d say that, wonnie.”

“i mean it, though,” he claims and he does—with his whole chest and existence. “you’re so breathtaking that i forget to even breathe sometimes. not that i need to.”

“yeah? why’s that?”

“all i need is you~” jungwon sings with his lips puckering exaggeratedly to elongate the ‘you.’

the other scoffs instantly at that and pushes his face away before immediately pulling back with a screech when she feels something wet and warm slide against her palm.

“yang jungwon! did you lick me??” she exclaims, flabbergasted, and yet the other only giggles playfully with a wiggle of his brows as he sits up.

“your hand lotion smells sweet,” he reasons and her brows jump with disbelief.

with a scrunched face, she dries her wet hand on his sleeve with a rough swipe. “it doesn’t mean it’ll taste nice!”

jungwon disagrees though. and he’s not afraid to show that by tilting his head with a frown of disagreement. “you always taste nice.”

(y/n)’s opportunity to retort is stripped away by him whose face is suddenly inches away from her as his eyes flicker between hers before zoning down at her mouth.

her breaths hitch when his own fans her lips and his tongue darts out to flick at the rosy nubs. “jungwon—”

“kiss?” he hums quietly and at the sight of it still closed tight, he draws closer with a little huff while his hand gently paws at her lap. “please? won wants kiss…”

(y/n) can feel her resolve shattering at his small pleas and she parts her lips to which he instantly dives into.

he doesn’t spare a second to practically feast on her in a messy choreography—tongues tangling, breaths blending and saliva stringing—and the intensity of it all shocks her, especially so when he straddles her.

thinking back, all of this started a week ago. she’s not sure what exactly sparked it but long story short, (y/n)’s apartment door had been rung incessantly and the moment she peeked through the eyehole, she was overrun with both worry and horror at the sight of a completely soaked jungwon standing outside her door.

various questions filled her head. what was he doing out in the rain nearing midnight? why was he at her door?

sure, she too herself had just come home an hour ago after a hooking up with some guy but that was her. a norm. jungwon? goody-two-shoes jungwon to be out of bed, out in the rain, soaked head-to-toe and not to mention, drunk??

something was definitely up. and that very same time was when jungwon started asking for kisses, saying something along the lines of “need to… need to clean…”

and if doing it was the only way to get him to calm down, she’d do anything.

at the end though, what she thought was a one time thing, a mistake by his drunken self, was actually some sort of new ‘diet’ jungwon had. something he had to have each day. something he began to shamelessly ask for.

and deep within (y/n)’s twisted little self, she reveled in the way he seemed to yearn for her kisses. like she was his lifeline. of course, she’s rational enough to not let it go beyond the line.

as if that would make it better.

“jungwon, kitty,” she calls after pulling away and the nickname makes him gasp softly as he shudders on her lap. growing up, he had a habit of sinking his teeth into things and (y/n)’s always the main victim. the fact that this knowledge is personal between them makes it so intimate, so special that he just can’t help but preen whenever he hears the name.

“hm?” he hums whilst nosing her cheeks and leaving soft butterfly kisses on her face.

her hand moves to gently push him away by the chest just so they can properly see one another. “what happened that day?“

he freezes, nervous gaze flicking between hers before looking down. he can’t tell her that he used their little friendship necklace that doubles as safety trackers because she wasn’t answering his texts. he can’t tell her that he saw her making out with some other dude and nearly lost his mind when he saw that she liked it. he can’t tell her that he practically had to drink himself away just so he could forget and not tear the man’s head off his neck.

so instead, he says, “i was just stressed. everything…everything is just overwhelming.”

good job, jungwon, he pats himself in the back. playing the typical overworked uni student will always be believable.

he throws in a small pout as his brows raise and dip at the ends and he knows she’s bought it when a soft coo sounds and her fingers start to play with the hair on his nape.

won simply melts at the touch, leaning slightly and baring his neck as he sighs dreamily.

“so is that what this is? your stress reliever?” (y/n) refers to the kisses.

he stays silent for an unnoticeable second. if he had to be completely honest, the kisses are because he wants to wipe off whatever filth was left behind by that man that kissed her.

but stress reliever isn’t precisely wrong he suppose. her lips are to die for. she is to die for.

he nods softly and curls himself into her—arms wrapping around her waist as his head rests in the crook of her neck—and he nuzzles to drown himself in her sweet, soothing scent.

his knees lock around her hips as his tongue flicks out to lick stripes against the skin of her neck and his ears perk at the sound of her giggles.

“that tickles,” she comments with a light jerk when he nips.

he smiles.

yeah, just this is fine for now.

—

no.

nonononononono no!

this isn’t supposed to happen!

jungwon stares with horror at the scene unfolding in front of him.

she’s back with that rodent. that…that little pest! how dare he crawl his way back to her?? after all i’ve done to make sure he stays away—

“jungwon!” (y/n)’s chirpy voice fishes him out of the depths of his rapidly darkening thoughts but he still can’t manage to put on a smile when his one and only comes up to him with her arm linked in another’s. “i thought you said had no class today.”

jungwon forces himself to form a small grin, enough to at least make him seem unsuspicious but not at the very least welcoming to the third party. “oh, i don’t! but i had to drop off an assignment.”

(y/n) nods at this and immediately gestures to her…company. “this is minoo. i’ve told you about him.”

yes, you did, won thinks bitterly in his head, teeth gritting beneath his strained smile. he’s a nasty waste of spa—

“jungwon, right? (y/n)’s told me about you too,” minoo says with a hand offered for a shake. the former’s feline eyes are quick to follow his motions before tracking back up to his gaze. with a small nod, he accepts his handshake—only by the tips of his fingers before having to physically restrain himself from shuddering. “said to me that you’re her childhood friend. hard to believe honestly.”

his comment vexes him and a dark brow arches up challengingly on jungwon’s face.

“why’s that?” he hisses and (y/n)’s quick to notice but says nothing. he’s always been defensive about their relationship. always the first to claw and hiss whenever someone makes an off-putting remark.

minoo doesn’t seem at all deterred and if anything, he seems more amused about it. a cocky chuckle sounds and he tilts his head—mockingly, won might add—before clicking his tongue. “oh, nothing. you guys are so…different. i get it, opposites attract and all but you know well yourself, she’s way better with someone like me than well…you.”

the girl’s eyes widen twice their size, ready to pull won away from spitting venom through his teeth which might end with some of them falling off by minoo’s fist if she might add.

but in contrary to her expectations, he…

drop!

the first of many tears cascade down his rosy cheek down to the dry cement below them before they thicken to streams.

“jungwon,” she gasps and reaches forward to cup his face that quickly turns flushed as he sniffles, turning his head to hide within her cold palm.

“i know…i know that,” he chokes out when he pulls away with a rushed inhale. his red-rimmed, brimming eyes staring straight at minoo with contempt and yet, defeat. “i know she’ll never choose me but, it’s not wrong of me to keep hoping! it’s…it’s not wrong… it’s not wrong to wish and hold on... it’s not wrong…”

hearing that confession spill from his trembling lips strikes a cord in her—an epiphany—and her eyes travel across his face for a moment, taking his raw emotion in all his entirety before taking a step back.

jungwon almost stops crying instantly at the loss of her touch and he looks up with confusion as she backs away to minoo’s side once again. “(y/n)…?”

“i shouldn’t have let it go this far,” is all she mutters and she doesn’t spare a moment for him to stop her when she suddenly spins on her heels while dragging minoo away with.

his tears dried instantly as alarms blare in his ears incessantly.

you’re losing her, jungwon.

what did you do? you ruined it!

“w-wait!” jungwon calls out, voice cracking but she ignores. not a single pause or glance.

she’s going further away, jungwon. you’re losing her. she hates you now. you’ve done it.

“i’m sorry! i-it was all my fault, i—!”

he gulps harshly. his throat’s too dry from having to strain himself to cry—to act like a meek, broken lamb. he never thought it would backfire.

and now he’s actually crying.

his arm outstretches towards her, wanting to keep up but he knows that going after her is going to escalate everything. he knows her enough to know that if his tears don’t work, nothing will.

but what else can he do??

you’re losing her. you arelosing her. youarelosingher. losingherlosinglosinglosingherlosingher—

you lost her.

jungwon heaves, chest too heavy and breathing suddenly all too laborious as he clutches his chest through his shirt. he watches with a trampled spirit and weeping eyes as her figure diminishes further and further away.

“i lost her.”

—

—-

——

jungwon’s not easily deterred. like a cat, he’s stubborn. like a cat, he has claws to sink.

he leans against the jagged stone wall of the dark alley. his black hood’s pulled up over his head while his hand is stuffed in his dark cargo pants, the other spinning around his phone between his fingers deftly.

it’s in the dead of the night in a place so quiet it’s unnerving, a striking contrast from the usually busy city. footsteps sound and they begin to echo the deeper they venture into the alley.

jungwon’s ears perk and eyes lift from the ground to the wall in front of him—sharpening to a glare the moment a figure steps between.

“i knew there had to be something wrong under that innocence face you play,” minoo chuckles with amusement. his brows raise with a daring smirk. “how’d you get my number, huh?”

“(y/n)’s phone. she doesn’t change her passcode,” jungwon casually replies and the other scoffs.

“really? thought you guys don’t talk anymore after your whole… crying fest.”

“i’ve had it for a while. just in case.”

“wah… so you’re a real creep, aren’t ya? and she trusts you wholeheartedly. you should’ve seen how she practically tore herself knowing how she ‘broke’ you,” minoo comments and leans against the opposing wall with his chin raised high. “fvck, it was such a bother. couldn’t even do anything with her being such a party pooper.”

“watch your mouth,” jungwon hisses as his hands curl at his sides, teeth gritted.

minoo raises his own hands in false surrender. “hey, don’t act like you’re such a saint. after all, we both know that you slashed my tires when i was about to go on that date with (y/n).”

the other says nothing to this—no confirmation, no refute—and minoo scoffs. he pushes himself off the wall and brings his face near him, grinning ear to ear. “hey, say something won’t you? why’d even ask to meet if you’re gonna stay mute like a little pussy?”

again, jungwon stays quiet—but just for a good moment. “stay away from (y/n). she deserves someone better than you.”

“yeah? like who? you?” minoo scoffs and tilts his head tauntingly.

won’s fists grow taut, nails digging into his palms as they tremble but again, he doesn't voice an answer. "just stay away."

minoo clicks his tongue and he leans back, now more annoyed than he is amused. he drops his head low as his eyes glare into the other's. "and if i don't?"

then without warning, jungwon smacks himself across the face—shocking the other and minoo straightens with eyes popping—but he doesn't stop once, no. he does it again, again and again from various different angles until his lips are cut and bleeding.

"what the fvck, man?? the hell are you doing?!” min bursts, both weirded out and unnerved.

“what i have to,” won replies almost monotonous and he grunts when he slams himself against the brick wall behind him—harsh. he repeats it, back of his skull knocking against the jagged stone with a clear ‘THUD!’ and his vision blackens for a moment as head spins.

he hisses and brows knit, clearly in pain as he stumbles from the momentary dizziness but he’s swift to turn around just to smash his forehead against the serrated screen from years of neglect.

“STOP IT, MAN!” minoo finally shouts, clearly perturbed and terrified and he grapples his shoulder to pull him away.

but jungwon doesn’t stop. not yet.

just when minoo manages to yank him a good distance away, he leaps straight back into the wall like he’s trying to materialize through it—like a madman. a self-destructive maniac.

“FINE! FINE! I’ll leave her alone so just stop acting like some fvcking psycho, dude!” minoo finally yields, face pale and breaths shallow from the anxiety as he watches jungwon continue to ruin himself like a brainless zombie.

he was ruthless—bashing his head against the brick wall, smashing himself against it as if daring it to crumble if not him first and fingers pounding and clawing, leaving traces of blood from the torn, tattered tips. he was brutal, unforgiving and yet, he’s grinning through it all.

he turns around with a stagger, panting heavily as he lifts his focus to him. minoo’s petrified at the crazed look in his bulging, widened eyes and the unnatural spread of his bloody lips from ear to ear is near predatory—devilish.

minoo’s insides are near to leaping out of his skin but he relents—standing frozen as jungwon approaches.

the latter rests a hand on the other’s shoulder and he tilts his head. the blood dripping from his temple drops onto the hard ground and his tongue swipes against the oozing red on his busted bottom lip. “i trust you will as i hope you’ll be smarter.”

he then tucks his hand into minoo’s hoodie’s pocket and fishes out his handphone with a screen lit by the clear recording symbol. the owner freezes, not expecting for jungwon to find out.

the latter ends the tape before permanently deleting it from his phone and waving it at the side of his face. “smarter than this.”

no matter how unassuming it sounds, chills runs down min’s spine. it feels like a threat—one that’s grim, that’s written in blood. deadly. and he shudders when won’s feline eyes glint with a foxy intent—quickly snatching his phone back before stuffing it into his jeans.

“whatever…” minoo mutters and rushes out the alley, leaving jungwon alone in the haunting darkness. one that seemed to emanate from him.

won breathes heavily as his vision blurs—the blood loss and heavy hits he took starting taking a toll on him. but he can’t lose himself, not yet.

he takes out his phone and clicks on a number, hearing it dial for a few times before the other line answers.

“jungwon? it’s so late, why are you—”

jungwon coughs harshly and wheezes after, putting on his best performance in exaggerating his wounds—not that he’s not severely hurt but he’d be lying if he said it’s unbearable. he’d rather have this pain a million times than the pain of losing (y/n).

“h-help…” he croaks. “minoo—!”

CRACK!

he drops his phone onto the stone floor and smiles when he hears her panicked voice screaming through the phone—asking where he is and if he’s fine before ultimately rushing out her door.

jungwon sighs contentedly and sits himself on the ground. his eyes rake over the wall painted with his blood before at the torn, grated skin on the bloody tips of his fingers.

now, he waits.

—

a week has passed since then.

minoo, the ‘perpetrator,’ is a serving time at a correctional facility for his ‘acts of violence.’ while the ‘victim,’ jungwon, is almost healed up and had been released from the hospital to instead rest up at home with a pardon from school.

and (y/n)? she’s been taking time off just to nurse after him, much to his utmost delight.

she has been going above and beyond for him due to her guilt—apologizing profusely for letting minoo in her life and undoubtedly bringing him to jungwon. and won, of course, always denies it, saying “it’s not your fault! it never is!” because truthfully, it isn’t.

it’s his. minoo didn’t even lay a hand on him. he was the one who damaged himself but they will never know that, will they?

not when his little friendship necklace with (y/n) that doubles as a tracker was found in minoo’s hoodie. imagine her shock and horror when she went out to find jungwon only for her to be lead to minoo.

but the anger she portrayed after, it was a sight to behold, the police were called and so was the ambulance after they found out jungwon’s location from minoo.

he claimed innocent. begging and pleading to be heard.

“it wasn’t me! he was insane!” “he kept running through the wall! punched himself and all!” “i’m the victim! h-he must have snuck that necklace into my pocket!”

how pitiful.

jungwon wished he could’ve been there to see it.

“how do you feel, baby? need something else?” (y/n) asks with utmost care as her hand brushes back his bangs.

jungwon purrs, pushing his head into her touch. “no, i’m okay. thank you for taking care of me.”

(y/n) stares at him as he clings to her, his pretty, doe eyes blinking at her like she’s his world, his saviour, his reason for living. he looks at her like she’s his world.

and she knows it’s her doing. she should’ve cut things short but she had been selfish.

“don’t…don’t thank me,” she quietly says, remorseful, and jungwon’s sparkly eyes soften as they study her grey mien before he reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“lie with me?” he invites and she nods with a soft smile—joining him on his bed and tucking herself into his arms that gladly scoop her up.

he pats her back and strokes the back of her head. they revel in the peaceful silence and warmth that envelope them—one indulging in it much more than the other with a lovesick grin on his face and hearts glowing in his eyes.

“i don’t need anything else. i just need you,” jungwon mumbles into her hair and she chuckles. “like our promise.”

his words linger in the air for a moment before she sits up, a hand on his chest while the other props her up on her side to look at him.

“promise?”

won meets her gaze and nods. “back then, we promised to stay together forever. that’s why we got those tracking necklaces—so we can always find our way to each other more matter where we are.”

his words rekindles the memory in her head and her brows knit with guilt.

“you still remember?” she croaks, tears brimming and jungwon’s swift to bring his thumb up to wipe away a stray tear of hers.

“of course, i do. i remember everything about you—about us,” he says without a single doubt and sits up to hold her face. he bends down slightly to meet her height. “hey, hey… don’t cry. please, don’t cry. you’ll hurt your eyes again. shh, shh…”

he hugs her close and pushes her head gently to rest it on his shoulder—biting his lip when she brings herself closer to burrow into the crook of his neck. “i remember because well… i’ve always believed that i will stay with you—then, now and forevermore. promises aren’t meant to be broken. so you’ll stay with me, won’t you?”

“i will. i will, jungwon. and i’m so so sorry it took me so long to see that. to say this to you,” (y/n) sobs against him and he coos among comforting hushes as he pats her back.

“don’t be sorry. you don’t have to apologize for anything,” jungwon assures, his voice lulling and he presses a warm, lingering kiss on her temple. “in my eyes, you can do no wrong. you can slap me, kick me, stab me with a knife if you wish but as long as i know it’s your hand that’s holding it, i’ll gladly let it pierce my heart. you’re my everything, (y/n). i hope you know that.”

her cries only heighten at his genuine confession, heart aching like it’s breaking as tears overflow at the uncritical fondness he holds for her.

if she wasn’t in his embrace, she’s sure she would have shattered into pieces like fragile ceramic—completely oblivious to the wicked, toxic thoughts that fill her little angel’s head the longer he has her in his arms.

at this point, if she knew he was the one who baited minoo into a bear trap, made him watch as he thoroughly crushed and bled himself to the point of minoo’s mental ruin, snuck his necklace into his hoodie and called (y/n) for the fantastic finale, she’s still gonna think that jungwon did it for a good cause.

because just as he sees (y/n) as the embodiment of perfection, she now sees him as a poor, pathetic lamb who can do no sin—a saint.

and along with the guilt that now haunts her, he’s permanently tethered her to his side.

she can’t leave now, she can’t leave ever. they belong together, forever.

[maiverie]

THE RAIN HAS AN EDGE ╰ ﹙ ☁️ ﹚ft. park sunghoon ﹕ a oneshot ﹙ preview ﹚

you are the girl with an umbrella on a rainy day, and sunghoon is the boy at the bus stop drenched from head to toe.

in a nutshell ﹒ there’s a heavy downpour so you hold an umbrella over sunghoon and he looks at you like you’re crazy // 100% fluff

word count ﹒ preview is 1.5k; full ver ~6-7k

fic one of the chasing rainbows series ﹙ coming soon ! ﹚

“true, the sun and the wind inspire. but the rain has an edge. who, after all, dreams of dancing in the dust? or kissing in the bright sun?” — cynthia barnett

now playing ﹒ paris in the rain﹙ lauv ﹚

THE FIRST TIME you talk to park sunghoon, it’s raining, it’s cold, and jake had ditched you to “hang out” with chaewon, because he’s a crappy friend who pounces at any opportunity for female attention.

after your study session in the school library finishes, you find yourself standing at the school’s front entrance, grimacing at the downpour of rain in front of you. heavy pellets pummel from the sky like bullets, forming puddles in the divots of the ground and lowering the temperature enough to make you shiver. 

lucky for you, you remembered to bring your umbrella.

this was a habit of yours even on the sunniest of days, after spending five days bedridden with a fever following The Great Downpour of 2020.

when you reached for your backpack and unfurled your umbrella, it sprung to life and off you went, hopping down the cement paveway that led to the nearest bus stop.

you’re just about to slip in your earphones when you stop in your tracks, spotting a figure a few steps ahead of you. 

the person is crouching on the ground at the bus stop, hunched over and hugging their bookbag in an attempt at gathering warmth. 

the person is drenched and miserable.

and practically radiating angst and despair.  

because you’ve always been a totally (impulsive) caring and selfless person, you shuffle over and hold your umbrella over the person’s head.

they look up — and just when you encounter a cold gaze, dark brows and raven hair — you realise that the moody figure is none other than park sunghoon.

park sunghoon, the ridiculously good-looking senior everybody whispers about but doesn’t actually know anything about. 

park sunghoon, the guy who always wears a stoic, unsmiling expression that makes him the most unapproachable of his group of friends. 

and park sunghoon, the one who’s staring at you with a baffled and slightly distrustful expression on his face. 

oh.

you’re just standing here, staring at him like a creep. 

crap.

you should say something.

you open and shut your mouth a few times, trying to brainstorm what you might possibly say. you want to sound smart. and funny. and cool. so, naturally, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a very intelligent and super profound, “it’s, uh. . . raining.”

sunghoon continues to stare, his brows slightly furrowed to suggest he was questioning your sanity. 

“it’s raining,” you stupidly repeat louder, as though he hadn’t heard you over the rain. 

“good catch,” he replies, his gruff voice coinciding with the slight dip of his lips. 

the rumors are so true. 

sunghoon definitely has a very grumpy, rather angsty demeanour. you’ve actually spotted him around school a few times (you may or may not follow him with your eyes every time he’s around. is that a crime? it can’t be! you’re not the only one in the student body who finds him extremely attractive and painfully enigmatic), but he’s not the kind of person you can approach so easily.

in fact, he’s been coined the nickname ice prince for a reason.

“yes, uh,” you struggle to string together a coherent set of words, especially because he stands to his feet now, and you have to make the effort to not be intimidated by his height. 

“what i meant to say is that it’s raining but you don’t have an umbrella,” you laughed awkwardly, wanting to whack your head and yell stupid, stupid, stupid for impulsively waddling over here and saying stupid things to park sunghoon of all people. “i-i mean, obviously it’s a free country and you can totally do whatever you want, but, as you might already know — and i’m sure you do because you’re one of the smartest kids in school — standing in the rain can get you sick, like, really sick, and i only know this because about three years ago i forgot my umbrella and — funny story — i ended up getting so sick that i had to take five days off school because my fever was so high.”

oh god.

you quickly slap the tips of your fingers over your lips to physically restrain yourself from talking. the motion makes sunghoon’s gaze quickly flit to your lips, before they bounce back up to your eyes.

his stare is so painfully emotionless that you cringe inwardly.

you wish he’d say something.

anything. literally anything.

but he’s silent.

well, of course he is — you basically just trauma dumped about your stupid fever story. boo-hoo, you were sick from the rain — who cares?

just when you think you’ve reached the death of the conversation, you’re surprised by the sound of his soft voice.

“. . . niki.”

huh?

you blink, leaning in slightly so that you can hear him better.

“. . . niki. my brother. he took the last umbrella.”

oh.

your lips form a small o as you nod in understanding. “oh, niki! that doesn’t surprise me. he’s in my class, you know, and he’s always playing pranks on our teacher. one time he actually hid the test papers so we got a whole extra day to study,” your voice lowers to a whisper, “can’t believe i still failed it though. . .”

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, and afraid of being submerged in awkward silence again, you rush to fill in the space. 

“so where’s niki now?”

he shrugs. “soccer practice, probably.”

“oh,” you frown. “wait, aren’t you part of the soccer team, too? you’re the goalie. you saved so many goals last season and helped the team to their first win in two years,” you say, though your eyes widen in panic as soon the words leave your mouth, “n-not that i’m a stalker, or anything,” you frantically add, “it’s just that everyone knows you’re the goalie because one, it’s common knowledge, and two, the game is coming up and we’re all on the edge of our seats to find out how it goes!” 

stupid stupid stupid. 

why are you rambling so much? 

sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though his lips flatten in a rather sour manner. “i quit the team, actually.”

you gasp. “you’re the person jake is replacing? he’s been so cocky ever since it was announced that he’d be on the team. what made you quit?”

he shrugs, “it got boring,” he mumbles, then his ears turn slightly red and he dips his head in an emotion you never imagined park sunghoon could wear — embarrassment. “and i accidentally sprained my ankle.”

you blinked in surprise. “how?”

he hesitates before answering. “i tripped.” 

you stifle a laugh at the irony, because while sunghoon was a lot of adjectives — tall, handsome, mysterious, brooding, kind of scary, even — you never thought he was clumsy.

you softly cackle, earning you a glare from the boy. 

“sorry,” you grin playfully, growing accustomed to his icy aura. “i just never pictured you as a klutz.”

“says you,” he grumbles, “weren’t you the one who tripped and fell in the cafeteria last week? ”

“what—” you choked, “you saw that?”

he exhaled through his nose in amusement. “who didn’t?” sunghoon raised a brow at you. “i’m pretty sure someone recorded and posted it. the caption was ‘dumbass fails to do simple task and ends up with food all over her clothes.’”

your eyes slammed shut before they shot open. “fucking jake,” you growled, gripping the umbrella tightly. “i’m going to kill him.”

sunghoon chuckled, and the sound made your heart beat a little faster. you caught a fleeting glimpse of his smile which — by the way — showcased the most emotion you had ever seen from the boy. it couldn’t be helped that your stomach mangled and twisted at his pearly-white boyish smile, one that made his cheeks bunch up his face and his eyes twinkle like stars.

how pretty.

his smile faded as quickly as it appeared, however, and you soon found yourself facing his usual blank expression again. 

you want to try say something that might make him smile or laugh again, but he suddenly steps outside of the cage of your umbrella and raises his hand, hailing down the incoming bus. 

it slowly stops by the road beside the two of you, marking the end of your little interaction. 

“oh, your bus is here,” you force a smile, rather disappointed. “i’ll, um, see you later, sunghoon.”

“get home safe,” he retrieves his bus card from his pocket, glancing over his shoulder before he boards his bus. “and thanks. for the umbrella.” 

“n-no problem!” you quickly smile, “and by the way, my name is—”

“i know your name,” he interjects, and you think your mind is playing tricks on you when you see the edges of his lips twitch upward. “see you around.” 

sunghoon disappears into the bus and it whizzes by you, though you stay frozen in your feet for what feels like forever. 

he knows your name.

he’ll see you around.

you tuck your lip between your teeth, cheeks and ears flaring up.

and he wants you to get home safe.

.

( to be continued )

this is a preview only ﹒ full fic is estimated 6-7k ﹒ taglist open — send an ask, dm, or reply !

a/n . btw this is a preview only. the full fic might come out next week ? anyway my first hoonie fic and it's 100% pure, unadulterated fluff <3 this is inspired by paris in the rain + the above quote + an exo fic i adore ^^ hope u all liked it :) see u in the full version maybe 🤓

[nrhshm]

EKRKRK I LOVE YOUR WRITTING I was wondering if I could request an easily fatigued reader with smoker, mihawk and Shanks? Like they come got soaking wet and shivering from having to walk home in a storm and readers REALLY shy so they're like "no its fine I'm fine!" But then kinda get teary because they don't want to be a bother (sorry if that sounds weird but it's just something I would probably do😭) and just how they'd react? TYSM LOVE YOU‼️‼️

I tried to expand on three different reader personalities in each oneshot. So their reaction to each situation differs. Let me know what you think of it, anon!👋

And Shanks! Oh I went a different way with Shank's story🫡 but it was too good to change...

Smoker, Mihawk and Shanks with an easily fatigued/frail reader

who hates being a burden

---

. Sfw

. Mentions of kidnapping on Shank's part.

. Spoiler free

. Reader is g/n (female in Shanks's part)

---

Smoker

The storm outside was unrelenting, a cacophony of rain and wind battering against the tall office windows. Inside, the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a desk lamp, casting shadows that danced on the walls. Smoker sat at his desk, the air thick with the faint smell of his cigars.

Tick… tock…

His eyes drifted again to the clock on the wall, the hands creeping forward with a maddening slowness. It was 10:15, and you were late. Not just by a little. The patrol shift had ended at 9:30.

For any other soldier, it would have been a reprimand, a quick note in their file. But for some reason, the idea of something happening to you had twisted his gut into knots he’d rather not admit to anyone—especially himself.

He exhaled a stream of smoke, the ember on his cigar flaring briefly.

“Something’s not right,” he muttered, more to himself than to the empty room.

The storm wasn’t normal—not tonight. He’d seen sailors, seasoned and unshakable, hesitate at the thought of venturing into it. And yet, you were out there, alone.

Tick… tock…

The clock seemed to mock him, its endless rhythm a reminder of his helpless waiting. Finally, with a grunt of frustration, he stood, grabbing his coat. Enough was enough. He wasn’t going to sit here while the storm kept raging and the worst possibilities gnawed at his mind.

Just as he reached the door, it slammed open with a gust of wind and rain.

“Commander Smoker!” Your voice cut through the storm’s roar, sharp with urgency. You stepped in, water pooling at your feet as you stood at attention. “Apologies for the delay, sir! I—”

“Where the hell have you been?” His voice was sharp, though the edge softened almost immediately. His eyes swept over you, taking in the sodden uniform plastered to your skin, the way your hair stuck to your face, and the faint tremble in your shoulders. The reprimand he’d been planning caught in his throat. “Do you have any idea how reckless that was?”

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, standing stiffly despite the rain dripping down your face. “The patrol was delayed because of the weather, and I lost track of time. I apologize for being late, sir. If I may, I’ll begin my report—”

“Forget the damn report!” His sudden outburst made you blink, startled. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re soaked to the bone, and all you care about is procedure?”

“I didn’t mean to worry you, sir,” you said, voice small but resolute. “It’s my responsibility to—”

“Enough.” His tone left no room for argument. Before you could react, he shrugged off his jacket and stepped forward, draping it over your shoulders. The fabric was warm, heavy with the faint scent of smoke and leather.

“Commander, I don’t—”

“Stop arguing,” he said firmly, towering over you. “You’re freezing, and I’m not about to have one of my soldiers collapse because they’re too stubborn to take care of themselves.”

You looked up at him, wide-eyed and caught off guard by the unexpected gentleness in his voice. For a moment, you forgot how to speak, the weight of his concern settling heavily on your chest.

“I—thank you,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed, his hand coming up to rest briefly on your shoulder, warm and steady. “You need to stop trying to do everything on your own. I’m your commander. You can rely on me.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor, your hands clutching the edges of the jacket tightly. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Idiot,” he muttered, though there was no heat in the word. His hand lingered a moment longer before he stepped back, giving you room to breathe. “You’re not a burden. Stop thinking like that.”

The warmth in his voice made your chest tighten, but you forced yourself to stand a little straighter. “Yes, sir.”

He looked at you for a long moment, the tension in his shoulders easing as he seemed to confirm for himself that you were truly okay. Then he turned toward the door, grabbing his hat.

“Come on,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “I’ll walk you home.”

Your breath caught, but you nodded quickly, following him into the storm. His presence beside you felt steady and grounding, his coat a shield against the chill.

If Smoker’s feelings lingered unspoken in the air between you, you didn’t notice. And if his hand hovered just a little closer to your back, ready to steady you against the wind, neither of you said a word.

Mihawk

The night was eerily quiet, the humandrills’ growls and the clang of steel against steel the only sounds cutting through the stillness. You moved as swiftly as your aching body allowed, haki crackling faintly in your strikes. Each movement grew heavier, your limbs protesting every swing. The creatures encircled you, their primal strength and cunning pushing you further to the edge.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your vision blurring, but you couldn’t stop—not now, not after today. Not when you had something to prove.

Then, in a moment too fast to process, one of them lunged. Its weapon glinted under the moonlight, and your sluggish body betrayed you. You braced for the impact.

A flash of black steel tore through the air, and the humandrill was gone, its companions scattering in panic. Yoru, the unmistakable black blade, stood lodged in the ground before you, humming faintly with power.

Your heart skipped. And then, he stepped into view.

Mihawk’s golden eyes pinned you where you stood—or tried to. Your legs gave out, and the ground rushed to meet you, but his hand shot out, steady and strong. His grip was firm as he caught you, holding you upright like you weighed nothing.

“You’ve lost your mind.” His tone was cold, sharp, and laced with irritation. His gaze swept over you, taking in the bruises, the blood, the shaking in your limbs. “What exactly were you thinking?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered stubbornly, trying to stand straight.

He raised a brow, his voice dropping into a dangerous calm. “Fine? You’re about to collapse.”

“I just wanted to—”

“To what?” he cut in, his voice harder now. “Get yourself killed? Or is this another one of your attempts to outrun Zoro?”

The mention of your rival made you stiffen, your jaw clenching. “I don’t need anyone’s help,” you snapped, though the words lacked conviction.

“And yet here I am,” he replied coolly, his eyes narrowing.

The heat of your embarrassment flared, but before you could argue further, your body betrayed you again. You stumbled, and his grip tightened, keeping you from hitting the ground.

“Enough of this nonsense.” His voice held no room for argument, his usual measured calm tinged with something firmer.

Before you could protest, he shifted, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. The motion startled you, your words catching in your throat as you stared up at him.

“What are you—?”

“Carrying you back,” he interrupted bluntly, his tone making it clear he wasn’t entertaining any more arguments.

You could only blink, too exhausted to resist. His expression was unreadable, though his eyes softened slightly as they flickered over your face. “You push yourself too far,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Strength without control is meaningless.”

You stayed silent, your pride too wounded to admit he was right.

As he carried you through the quiet forest, the weight of his presence felt grounding. You glanced at his face, searching for any sign of mockery, but found none. Just calm, focused intent.

When he reached the castle, Mihawk set you down carefully on a bench near the fire. His golden eyes met yours, steady and unyielding.

“You’ll never surpass anyone if you’re too broken to fight,” he said. His tone was flat, but there was something beneath it—a flicker of something softer. Concern, maybe.

You opened your mouth to reply, but he shook his head. “Rest. That’s an order.”

As he turned to leave, his words lingered, low and almost under his breath. “Don’t make me save you again.”

And then, like a shadow, he was gone.

Shanks

You had grown up surrounded by elegance, refinement, and rules. As the eldest daughter of the Alabasta royal family, your every move had been dictated by tradition. You were taught diplomacy, grace, and poise, but not how to wield a sword or navigate the rough-and-tumble life of a pirate crew. When your father announced your arranged marriage to the infamous Red-Haired Shanks, the Yonko, it had felt like a betrayal—a sacrifice made to secure an alliance between your kingdom and the pirate world.

And yet, you agreed. For your family. For your kingdom.

Weeks later, you found yourself aboard the Red Force, surrounded by rowdy, boisterous pirates whose laughter echoed into the sea. Shanks, your husband, was everything you hadn’t expected. Carefree, loud, and full of life, he was the polar opposite of the strict, composed men you had known.

He’d tease you gently, his easy grin always present, saying, “You’ve got to loosen up, princess. Life’s too short to keep your shoulders so stiff.”

But you couldn’t. The world he lived in was too foreign. You didn’t belong here. And worse, you felt like an outsider—a burden among warriors who risked their lives at every turn.

The breaking point came during a crew meeting. You’d overheard the others discussing their plans for the next mission: docking on a notoriously dangerous island to retrieve a devil fruit.

“She’ll slow us down,” one of the crew muttered, not unkindly but with a tone of concern.

“She’s not trained to fight,” another added.

“Beckman will stay with her,” Shanks said, his tone casual but decisive. “He’ll make sure she’s safe.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You knew Shanks meant well, but to assign his right-hand man to babysit you on such a critical mission? It was a slap to your pride. You weren’t some helpless child. You were the wife of a Yonko.

That night, as the crew prepared for the next day, you made your decision.

---

The dawn was still pale as you slipped away, knife concealed beneath your dress. The ship was quiet, the crew unaware as you stepped onto the dock and into the bustling village.

The plan was simple. You’d explore the island, avoid trouble, and return before anyone noticed. It wasn’t reckless—it was proof that you could handle yourself.

The market was lively, filled with colorful stalls and chattering villagers. For the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of independence. But as you wandered deeper into the streets, the vibrant atmosphere gave way to shadowy alleys and silence.

That’s when they approached.

At first, it was just one man, smiling too broadly. Then another. And another. Their words were slick, their laughter dark. Your heart pounded as they surrounded you, their intentions crystal clear.

“Such a delicate thing,” one said, brushing a hand against your arm. “What’s a lady like you doing here alone?”

You tried to pull away, but their grip tightened. A cloth was forced over your mouth, muffling your cries.

---

The air shifted.

It was subtle at first—a faint pressure that made the hairs on your neck stand on end. Then it hit like a tidal wave, an overwhelming presence that crushed the very air around you.

The men froze, their smug expressions dissolving into sheer terror.

At the mouth of the alley stood Shanks.

Gone was the carefree man who laughed too loudly and drank too much. His usual easy smile was replaced by a look so dark, so furious, it made your blood run cold. His eyes burned with unrelenting rage as they locked onto the man who dared touch you.

“You dare take my woman?” His voice was low, a growl that seemed to echo through the alley.

The thug didn’t have time to react. In a single, fluid motion, Shanks swung his sword, and the man’s hand hit the ground with a sickening thud.

The others tried to flee, but they didn’t stand a chance. Shanks didn’t even need to use his sword again—the sheer force of his haki dropped them one by one, their bodies crumpling to the ground.

When the last threat was dealt with, Shanks turned to you. The fury in his eyes melted instantly, replaced by something far more vulnerable.

He was at your side in an instant, cutting away the ropes that bound you. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice trembling just slightly. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, though tears streamed down your cheeks. Before you could speak, he pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it felt like he was trying to shield you from the world itself.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he said, his voice breaking. “When I realized you were gone, I—” He stopped, his breath shuddering. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Your heart ached at the raw emotion in his voice. “What about the mission?” you whispered, guilt weighing heavily on your chest.

“The mission?” He pulled back just enough to look at you, his brows furrowing. “You think I care about the mission right now?” He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “I told the crew to wait. Your safety comes first. Always.”

You broke down, the weight of your fear and guilt crashing over you. “I just… I didn’t want to be a burden,” you sobbed. “I wanted to prove I could handle myself.”

Shanks shook his head, his expression softening. “You’re not a burden,” he said firmly. “You’re my wife. If worrying about you is what it takes, I’ll gladly do it.”

His words unraveled the knot in your chest, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to lean into him fully.

After a moment, you looked up at him, your voice shaky but resolute. “Teach me how to fight.”

Shanks blinked, clearly caught off guard. Then, a grin broke across his face, his usual teasing demeanor returning. “Fight, huh? Guess I’ll have to, or you’ll keep sneaking off on your own.”

You smacked his arm lightly, pouting. “I’m serious!”

“And I’m serious about carrying you back to the ship.” He scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you in his arms. “Besides, you’re cute when you pout.”

Despite your frustration, you couldn’t help but smile. Resting your head against his shoulder, you let out a small sigh of relief.

As Shanks carried you back toward the harbor, his laugh echoed through the air, a sound that made you feel, for the first time, like you truly belonged.

[dailylcy]

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊ RAIN CHECK - a jung sungchan oneshot

| 정성찬 Only love can make it rain

⟢ pairing: highschool student!sungchan x highschool student!reader

⟢ synopsis: You and Your best friend have a tradition of walking home from school together but when it starts pouring and he insists on sharing his umbrella which is way too small for two people , things get…warmer?

⟢ genre: fluff 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 ⟢ word count: 1k

You can’t remember when it exactly started, but walking home with Sungchan became a daily routine for you.

Neither of you ever talked about how it started — it just did. You both left school at the same time, took the same path home, and after a while, it felt weird to not be walking together. What started as casual small talks turned into deep debates about the most random topics, races until the streetlight, and Sungchan failed attempts to impress you with his unfunny jokes.

You had grown used to him just being there.

But today, the weather had different plans.

The sky had been looking heavy all day, big grey clouds rolling in like some warning, but you and Sungchan ignored them. You both figured you’d make it home before it started to rain.

Big mistake.

The moment you stepped outside, the first raindrop lands on your cheek. A second later, the sky start’s pouring.

“Are you KIDDING ME?” you groan, pulling your hoodie up.

Sungchan lets out a deep sigh, as if personally stabbed in the back by the weather. “I knew I should’ve done a rain check.”

You watch as students search for a cover, some running towards the bus stop while others huddle under porch covers. Beside you, Sungchan reaches into his bag and pulls out—

The tiniest, most ridiculous small umbrella you have ever seen.

You stare at it. Then at him. Then back at the umbrella. “That’s it??”

“It’s all I had at home, okay?” Sungchan huffs, flicking it open. The thing could barely cover his shoulders, let alone two people. He glances between you and the umbrella before tilting it more towards you with a dramatic sigh. “Okay, we got two choices. One: we run for our lives. Two: we squeeze under this and pray for them.

You look at the pathetic excuse for an umbrella. “Guess I’m gonna have to take my chances with the rain.”

“Coward.” He teases you, but before you can start running, he grabs your wrist and pulls you under the umbrella with him. The move is so sudden that you barely process it — one second, you’re standing like 4 feet away from him, and the next, you’re way too close, his arm practically wrapped around yours as he awkwardly tries to hold the umbrella over you both.

“This is not working” you say, moving slightly.

Sungchan looks at you, and for the first time, he realises how close you two are right now. he clears his throat, tightening his grip on the umbrella. “Uh — No , yeah. This is… cozy.”

You roll your eyes at his words, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Remind me to buy you a real umbrella.”

“Hey, this one is functional” he argues.

Right then, a gust of wind flips the umbrella inside out.

You both stare at it for a few. Then at each other.

A beat of silence.

Then, you burst into laughter.

Sungchan frowns, struggling to flip the umbrella back while rain completely soaks you both. “This is not funny.”

“you should’ve seen the look on your face when it broke” you say between laughs.

Sungchan finally gives up, shoving the broken umbrella into his bag. “Alright. New plan. We make a run for it.”

“What happened to your functional umbrella?” you say sarcastically

He glares playfully. “Do you want to stand here all day?”

You shake your head, still smiling from ear to ear. “Fine. On three?”

Sungchan nods. “1…2…3 — ”

You take off running, rain soaking through your clothes as you race towards a small convenience store a few blocks away. Puddles splash and water getting into your shoes, but you’re laughing too hard to care.

By the time you reach the store, your clothes completely drenched and so is your hair. Sungchan pushes open the door, and the warm air inside is a nice contrast to the chilly rain. The cashier looks up, unimpressed at the two soaking — wet disasters dripping water all over the floor.

Sungchan gives them an apologetic smile before turning to you. “Well. That was something.”

“You think?” you say, shaking water from your hands.

Sungchan disappears into one of the aisles and returns a moment later with two hot packs. He hands one to you while tearing his own open. “Here. You’re probably freezing.”

You take it, pressing it between your hands. “Thanks.”

He watches you for a second, then rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking… nervous?

“uh… I actually didn’t really mind getting caught in the rain” he says, his voice quieter than usual.

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow at his words. “Really? Because I think I just saw you shiver.”

He laughs softly, then looks away, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the hot pack. “I mean, I didn’t mind it because it was with you.”

You can swear your heart just skipped a beat. The warmth from the hot pack spreads up your arms, but you know it’s not just from that.

Sungchan exhales, shifting his weight. “I was actually gonna say this later — not when we’re soaked and freezing — but… I really like you.” “and i mean like… A lot.”

You blink. The words set in your chest, pushing away any leftover chill from the rain.

“You really picked the worst timing for this huh?” you say, a teasing smile landing on your lips.

“I knew you were gonna say that.”

You laugh, stepping closer to him. “You’re lucky I like you too.”

His eyes widen slightly. “Wait — seriously?”

Instead of answering, you tip toe towards him and press a quick kiss on his cheek. He freezes, eyes going impossibly big.

you were about to apologise as he didn’t react for a few seconds but before you can do that, he steps closer, tilting his head slightly — just enough to close the distance between you two. His lips are warm against yours despite the rain, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

When you finally pull back, he’s smiling like a fool

“You’re not gonna make fun of me for this, are you?” you ask, “Oh, 100%” Sungchan replies immediately. “But only because I really, really really like you.”

Outside, the rain is still pouring, but somehow, it doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

note: JUNG SUNGCHAN PLS JUST ONE CHANCE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

› leave ask/comment to be added to my permanent taglist

to my main masterlist

© dailylcy pls dont not repost on any other platform !

[pitchsidestories]

coming home II Guro Reiten x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1190

summary: Guro and you can't wait to be reunited again after you both were away with your Norwegian and Swedish national team.

a/n: Hi, it's inspired by this request here, we hope you have fun with this little, fluffy oneshot.

“Earth to Guro.”, Caroline Graham Hansen spoke visibly frustrated to her fellow Norwegian teammate who was typing and smiling at her phone, but not taking any notice of the rest of the group which was very unlike her.

It was a beautiful day in their home country and yet Guro wished herself back to the rainy streets of London, where you and her would lay in your shared bed, listening to the noise the raindrops made against the large windows.  

“Huh?”, she glanced puzzled at the Barcelona player.

“We’re here.”, Caroline reminded her.

“Sorry, just texted my..”, the Chelsea forward started to apologize.

Maren who was the most familiar with her and the smile she had on her lips while thinking about you interrupted her softly:” Your girlfriend? You’ll see her soon enough.”

“Ugh.”, the Barcelona footballer groaned.

“Don’t ugh me, Caro.”, Guro laughed.

“You’re so in love, it’s disgusting.”, Caroline shrugged.

“Ignore the black cat, Guro. We’re happy you found each other.”, Ada threw in smiling amused.

“We’re happy.”, the other player repeated scoffing.

“All of us except for Caro.”, Ingrid corrected the prior sentence of the Lyon footballer.

“Thanks, girls. I’m really happy with her.”, Guro beamed.

“We get it.”, Caroline muttered, eager to play.

The game went not in the favour of the Norwegians, they lost and played under their own high expectations. The Chelsea forward was relieved once she was able to get to her hotel room and video call you.

 “Can’t wait to see you again, the match was awful.”, she confessed.

“Not that long anymore, one game to go.”, you tried to cheer her up, you were away with your Swedish national team.

“I know.”, Guro admitted.

“You can do this, captain Guro.”, you assured her. Unfortunately, you weren’t alone in your room, Magdalena and Fridolina were sitting opposite of you, giggling at your motivational speech.

“What’s so funny.”, your girlfriend wanted to know.

“Magda, Frido, shut it., you scolded your teammates, before turning back to her, sorry min älskling.”

“Thanks.”, Guro replied.

“Better, right?”

“Yes, a lot.”, she confirmed. Afterwards you continued to talk about your days.

Way to soon, Magdalena reminded you:” It’s dinner time.”

“Damn it, she’s right.”, you cursed.

“Why are your teammates so horrible.”, your girlfriend questioned grinning.

“They are the worst.”, you agreed jokingly.

“Lies, you love us!”, Fridolina protested.

“Yeah, sometimes.”, you answered truthfully.

“See?”, the Bayern Munich defender gave you a winning smile.

“Bye, Guro, hope the grandmas here fall asleep early, so we can continue talking later.”, you said goodbye to her with a heavy heart.

“I hope so too.”, Guro said.

Of course it was raining when you arrived back in London.

Dragging your suitcase behind you, you opened the door to your shared apartment.

“I’m home!“, you called, knowing that Guro must be somewhere. She had let you know via text that she would arrived a few hours before you.

You kicked off your shoes and left your suitcase in the middle of the floor.

Guros face appeared in the doorway leading to your kitchen: “Finally!“

“God, I missed you.“, you smiled at the sight of your girlfriend and jogged over to her to jump into her arms.

Guro, being a similar height as you, almost lost her balance but regained it in the last moment before you both would have tumbled to the floor.

“Missed you too.“

She kissed your cheek before putting you back down.

You sat down at the kitchen table. Without a word, your girlfriend placed a cup of water and a freshly brewed coffee in front of you.

You marvelled at the thoughtfulness. It was exactly what you needed after a long flight.

As soon as she sat down with you, her own coffee in hand, you asked: “How was camp? Tell me everything.“

“Good, really.“, Guro answered plainly but you could tell from the way her face lit up that it actually had been a good camp for her.

You nodded, satisfied with her answer: “That’s great. What kind of food would you like to order? The usual? The bill is on me.“

Your girlfriend smirked at the quick change of topic: “Someone’s in a good mood.“

“Yeah, we won both of our games.“, you explained laughing.

“I saw that.“

“Did you see my goals too?“, you asked innocently while typing on your phone. The order from your favourite restaurant was quickly placed.

“Of course, I did.“

“Pretty nice, huh?“, you bragged jokingly.

Guro wrinkled her nose, rather unimpressed, and shrugged: “They were okay.“

“Only okay?!“, you repeated, feigning offense.

“Yes, only okay.“

You leaned over, poking your girlfriend in the side repeatedly. You knew how ticklish she was.

“Hey, stop that!“, she protested, trying to protect her torso from you.

“Stop what?“, you played dumb, continuing to annoy her until she burst out laughing.

“This!“

“Oh, that.“

“Stop it!“

You finally backed off, giving her time to catch her breath: “Okay, okay.“

“Thanks.“, she sighed.

The doorbell interrupted you anyway.

“Oh, our dinner is here.“, you announced excitedly and stood up.

Your stomach growled as you took the food inside. The smell of take-away immediately filled the kitchen.

“Finally.“, Guro said, impatiently opening the styrofoam boxes.

You took the first bite and hummed: “Delicious as always.“

“I missed this food so much.”, the Norwegian admitted grinning. The varieties of meals you could order in London would never fail to amaze your girlfriend and yourself.

“Same but more than me?”, you replied in a teasingly tone.

“Yes, of course.”, Guro joked before taking another bite.

“What do you want to do now?”, you changed the topic swiftly.

“Like right now?”, the brunette lifted an eyebrow.

“Yes.”, you nodded enthusiastically. Being back with the person you loved most reenergized you like nothing else did.

“Spend time with you.”, she answered genuinely.

Later you both laid together lazily on your sofa and Guro called your Chelsea captain with a smirk on her face:” Hi Millie.”

“What’s up?”, the blonde responded.

“Y/n and I are busy doing gay things and we might not be at training tomorrow.”, the Scandinavian explained.

“Too much information.”, Millie giggled.

“Just letting you know.”, Guro told her friend innocently.

“I’m not covering for you tomorrow.”, the Defender announced determined.

“Please, you owe me that.”, your girlfriend reminded her sweetly.  

“Fine, but don’t ever call me again.”, Millie groaned dramatically.

“Thanks, see you.”, Guro responded gratefully.

“Bye.”, with these words they hang up.

“Gay things?”, you snorted once she has ended the call and looked into your eyes again.

“Yes, we have all night.”, the midfielder winked at you.

“And tomorrow as well.”, you remembered.

“Yes, I’ve to make up for the time we didn’t see each other.”, Guro proclaimed.

“Come here.”, you said beaming, opening your arms for a hug which she happily accepted.

With closed eyes you whispered into her ear:” You’re home now.”

Both of you knew you felt comfortable everywhere in the world, but home to you wasn’t a place, it was each other. Coming home meant returning to one another and it was one of the best feelings in the world.

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor x Reader

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕖 (oneshot)

I brushed the flour off my hands and onto my apron when the bell rang. Dark brown eyes met mine as I gazed at who my newest customer could be. I was merely in my 20s and had my own business going on here. I recognized the male quickly as one of my best friends from town.

“Alastor! What brings you in here today?” My smile matched his. I swear he is always smiling unless it was just us in private sometimes. I walked around the counter and ditched my apron there. He had his hands behind his back as I approached him.

“Hello, dear! Just stopping by for a quick meal before my show!” The clock above the door read to be 5:30PM. Wow, time really flies by nowadays. My smile broadened as I clasped my hands together.

“Always a pleasure to have you stop by! I have your favorite already almost done! I was planning on bringing it over when I closed up.” He smiled wider and gracefully ditched his coat on the rack, turning my open sign off, and locking the door for me. My footsteps quietly echoed down the basement steps as I entered the room dedicated to Alastor. Carefully putting on my rain boots, bloody apron, and my rubber gloves. My hair was already pulled out of my face messily. 

Alastor’s jazzy music started playing upstairs as he started helping finish my closing duties, our weekly ritual turning almost daily nowadays. As I finished making his meal, I thought of how close Alastor and I have become after I found out his secret. It was truly so romantic how it happened even though he was worried I wouldn’t understand his… hobby and diet. 

I was locking up my just opened bakery, excited that it was very successful so far. There was a strange man across the street watching me. I brushed it off slightly, just noting to hussle home faster. Alastor’s radio station was down the street from me along with Mimzy’s place a couple more blocks further. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if I hurried in to wait for this creepy man to leave. But, along the walk, I heard his footsteps get heavier and closer. I grabbed my heel and whipped around, talking loud since I was outside of the radio station now. 

“Leave me be or face my wrath!” I held the heel, ready to bash his face in if need be. The man started laughing, towering over me. My heart was pounding and my hands shaking. I loved the thrill but not like this. 

“A pretty gal like you shouldn’t walk home alone then, yeah?” He wasn’t leaving room for an option here. My back pressed against the wall. I knew I would lose ultimately, even if I played dirty. 

“Good thing she wasn’t.” Before I could peer around the creep, I saw blood dripping from his mouth as he fell over. I watched his body collapse onto the ground with a heavy thud, then the stab wound on his back became clear. My eyes flashed to who my savor, or maybe new threat, stood before me. 

“Are you alright, dear?” My eyes looked into familiar brown eyes. Alastor, who I knew but wasn’t awfully close to, stood in front of me. He was carefully cleaning his knife but watching me. I wasn’t scared of him at all, if anything, his presence made me relax. I breathed out, not realizing I was holding it this whole time.

“Oh, Alastor. Thank you!” My eyes looked back down and back up at him, then it clicked. He was the unknown killer that started as of late. 

“What a disgusting fellow. I am truly sorry for this mess, (Y/n). You were never supposed to become involved at all. Please do forgive me, dear.” 

“What ever for? He had it coming, yes? How bout I help you out.” I smiled up at Alastor, pointing towards my shop. He seemed confused and uncertain before leaning against the wall, pinning me between him and the cold brick against my back. He leaned down as his arm rested above my head and the other beside my head. He had a crazed look in his eyes, alongside a crazed smile. Oh good heavens did it cause my heart to beat fast, I could feel my eyes glazing over how attractive this was. My hand absentmindedly wiped the blood off his cheek as he spoke.

“I take a smart lady, such as yourself, has put it together by now. I can’t have a witness or it’ll ruin this whole thing I have going on here.” He stopped, registering my hand wiping the blood from his face, his eyes moved to watch my hand, unmoving. Those dark brown eyes slowly drifted back over to look at my face before slyly whispering.

“You’re just as disturbed as me, aren’t you my dear?” 

I shut the door to the basement, locking it. All the dishes were done in the kitchen, everything put away. Along with the dishes, the floors were swept and the counters tidy. What a lovely man to have around. I was truly a lucky gal for having such a gentleman make sure I always got home safe and help me out here. I cannot lie, I was falling deeper and deeper with his charm. I pushed the door open to the dining area, placing Alastor’s special jambalaya in front of him. A set of dark eyes following my every move with such a beautiful smile on his face. Our eyes meet and stare as I take my seat across from him. Crossing my legs, I took a bite of some of the jambalaya as he took a bite of his own. It was a peaceful meal we would share. Though, it didn’t slip my mind how he has started stopping in more often lately. Not that I minded at all, but I was worried I would fall deeper with his charm. 

“Alastor?” He swallowed his bite, looking up at me. 

“Before you begin, I just wanted to thank you for this delicious meal my dear!” I smiled bashfully, loving his compliments. It took time to learn what went best with human meat and what Alastor likes best. 

“Why, thank you!” He placed his elbows on the table and leaned towards me, interest dancing in his eyes. 

“Your question, sweetheart?” 

“Oh, yes! What has brought you around more often? Not that I mind your company, quite the opposite really.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. My fingers covering my lips as I process what exactly I just said. Alastor’s smile widened before his hands moved to hold my own.

“Oh, doll. I just enjoy your company so much, I can’t help but catch myself wandering into your fine establishment!” He kissed the back of my hand, maintaining eye contact with me. My smile widened with the red across my face. He really was quite charming. 

“Oh, Alastor. You are always quite the charmer.” We held each other’s hands gently, staring into each other’s eyes. I felt myself leaning over the table, one of his hands moving to hold my face softly. He was leaning in too, closing his eyes as he was mere inches away from my face. My hands held onto his hand as I pulled the rest of the way in, connecting our lips gracefully. The kiss was more blissful than anything I have ever imagined, but was sadly cut short when there was banging on the shop’s doors. We both jumped away from our kiss, looking at the door. Through the window curtains, I caught a glimpse of policemen. 

“You have to leave, my love.” Pushing him towards the secret exit in the back. He looked at me with a strained smile. The banging got more aggressive as the policemen began their threats to enter. Alastor whispered, “Come with me, please.” 

“I wish I could, my love. We both know they will catch us if we can’t have a distraction.” I held his hands before placing a quick kiss, pushing him gently. 

“Go, now.” The policemen started breaking the door down as Alastor quickly scampered out back. He turned around only to see the policemen aim their weapons at myself. I was pushing the policemen back and fighting them, trying to stab them. I was only successful in my murder attempts on the lead detective before Alastor watched myself be shot . He waited for the other two officers to be distracted before he took my butcher knife and sliced both their throats efficiently. For good measures I saw him hack at their throats till their heads were chopped off. 

There was pain in my stomach from where I was shot, I was holding over the gunshot wound. Blood trickled out and pooled below my body, but I was able to watch Alastor chop them ruthlessly. He had lost his smile momentarily and had tears running from his eyes as he rushed to my side, covered in blood. He gently held my face, wiping my own tears off my face desperately. I coughed blood before quickly ordering what he needs to save himself.

“You need to burn this whole place down, Al. Leave our bodies in it and run away.” His eyes flickered between my own before he brushed the hair out of my face. I knew he wasn’t going to leave my side. My bloody and shaky hands held his cheek before I whispered, “I love you, Alastor. But, you need to do as I say if you wish to stay a free man. Please.” 

“I will find you, my dear. In every lifetime, I will find you. I love you, (Y/n).” As he said those words, the world around me started to melt around me. I felt my soul fall from my body and plummet downwards, falling. It looked like I was falling through the Earth’s ground, colliding with another ground that was surrounded by dark colors. I was in what I assumed to be Hell.

(As always, charcters belong to the respective owners and the story belongs to me! I hope you enjoy this tiny dabble I got inspired by Insane by Black Gryph0n , Baasik. Hope you enjoy it :)!)