#something that eases a little as they get to know someone

[heliosunny]

Your writing is just… unbelievable! You’re doing such a good job, I hope you know that and you’re taking care of yourself (and your wrists!!)

May I request, if it peaks your interest, Yandere!Mydei x Reader, but slow-decent yandere over time as Mydei gets more possessive of reader, who they met when reader and Mydei accidentally bumped into each other in the market place, causing his pomegranate juice to spill on her. She didn’t mind, even licks a bit off of her to taste it before leaving, and runs a trinket shop for people at the edge of the market!

My wrists are doing okay- ;3

CROSSED PATHS

Yandere!Mydei x Fem!Reader

Mydei walked through the market with the same disinterest he always carried, he was all too familiar with this place. He wasn’t here for anything in particular, just taking the usual route through the stalls, a wooden cup of pomegranate juice in hand. The deep red liquid sloshed slightly as he moved, but he paid it no mind.

Then, before he could sidestep, someone walked straight into him.

The collision wasn’t violent, but it was enough to jostle his cup, sending the juice spilling forward. The rich crimson liquid soaked into the tunic of the person in front of him.

“Tch” Mydei clicked his tongue, already annoyed. “You should watch where you’re going.”

Instead of irritation, you simply looked down at the stain, then back up at him. Without hesitation, you ran a finger along the droplets clinging to your skin, bringing it to your lips and licking it off.

“Mmm. That’s good” you mused, amusement flickering in your eyes. “You’ve got good taste.”

Mydei stared, silent for a moment. He wasn’t sure what he expected your reaction to be, but it certainly wasn’t that. Most people would be frustrated, flustered, or at least make some effort to clean up. Instead, you stood there, completely at ease, as if the spill was nothing more than a passing inconvenience.

His gaze flickered to your clothes. “It’s ruined.”

You merely shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Gives me an excuse to close up early anyway.”

That caught his attention. “Close up?”

“I run a trinket shop. Just by the market’s edge.” You smiled, “Little things to catch the eye and heart.”

Mydei didn’t reply right away, just watching as you gave him a small wave and disappeared back into the crowd, as if this meeting was nothing more than a fleeting moment.

The next day, Mydei found himself walking toward the edge of the market, where the usual noise and crowd thinned out. He wasn’t sure why he bothered. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was just something to do. Either way, he figured he’d at least take a look at the shop you mentioned.

When he arrived, however, the place was closed. The wooden sign hanging on the door was tilted slightly, as if it had been left that way in a hurry.

What was the point of bringing up a shop if she wasn’t even going to open it?

He exhaled through his nose, about to turn back and head home, when movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

There you were, walking toward the shop with a slow, lazy pace, arms stretching over your head as you let out a deep yawn. You looked half-asleep, hair slightly messy, and completely unbothered by the fact that most stalls had already been open since morning.

Mydei frowned. “Isn’t it late to be opening now?”

You blinked at him, then glanced at the sky as if just realizing the time. “Mm. Guess so.” You rubbed at one eye before giving him a lopsided grin. “But hey, better late than never, right?”

He stared at you. “That’s a terrible mindset for business.”

You only chuckled, fishing out the key and unlocking the door with an easy shrug. “Maybe. But I open when I feel like it. I still get customers, so it works out.”

That… was the most carefree approach he’d ever heard. He didn’t know whether to call it ridiculous or strangely impressive.

Instead of arguing, he crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the nearby post. “So, do you actually sell anything useful, or is it all just cheap junk?”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. “How dare you.” Then you grinned. “You’ll just have to come inside and see for yourself.”

And for some reason, Mydei didn’t immediately walk away.

As you pushed open the shop door, the scent of old parchment, polished wood, and faint traces of incense drifted into the cool evening air. The interior was warm, lit by scattered lanterns that cast soft golden hues across shelves packed with trinkets—intricate carvings, delicate charms, aged coins, and strange little oddities that seemed to whisper of stories untold.

Mydei stepped in behind you, arms still crossed as his sharp eyes swept across the shop’s interior. He made a low noise in the back of his throat—half curiosity, half scrutiny. He reached for a small wooden carving of a beast with jeweled eyes, turning it in his hand. “You actually sell things worth looking at.”

You laughed, stretching lazily before stepping behind the counter. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

He huffed, setting the carving down before moving to another shelf. “Take it however you want.”

He studied everything with an almost calculated interest, fingers skimming over old coins, testing the weight of metal trinkets, and occasionally raising a brow at something that caught his attention. He wasn’t the type to be easily impressed, but you could tell he wasn’t just humoring you—he genuinely found the shop interesting, even if he didn’t outright say it.

“You actually know what you’re selling” he muttered, inspecting an engraved pendant. “Not just collecting junk and hoping people buy it.”

You leaned on the counter, resting your chin on your hand. “Of course. Every piece here has a story. That’s what makes them special.”

Mydei glanced at you briefly, as if considering something, but before he could speak, a voice cut through the quiet.

“Mydei!”

A man rushed into the shop, breathing heavily, eyes scanning the space before locking onto him. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere—” He paused, glancing between you and Mydei before continuing hurriedly. “There’s trouble. You’re needed now.”

Mydei clicked his tongue in irritation but didn’t hesitate. He turned to you, nodding once. “Guess I’ll have to finish looking around another time.”

You waved a hand dismissively, grinning. “Take your time. The shop isn’t going anywhere.”

Without another word, he strode past the man and out into the night, disappearing as quickly as he had come.

Five days had passed since Mydei had left in a rush, and in that time, life went on as usual. Your shop saw a steady stream of customers—travelers looking for charms, locals browsing out of habit, and the occasional collector intrigued by the more unique items you sold.

The place was lively today, filled with chatter and the occasional sound of trinkets clinking together as people picked them up and examined them. You were busy handling coins, giving a customer change, when a familiar figure stepped inside.

At first, you didn’t notice him. Mydei wasn’t the type to announce his presence, and he simply stood near the back, scanning the shelves with his usual unreadable expression. He blended in well, quiet and observant, though his presence carried a weight that would eventually demand attention.

It wasn’t until you turned, momentarily catching a glimpse of something unusual in the dim light, that you really saw him. A few stray leaves were nestled in his hair, likely from his journey back to town.

Without thinking, you moved toward him, reaching up on your toes to pluck the leaves away. “You’ve been out in the wild, huh?” you mused, brushing the last one from his shoulder.

He barely reacted, only arching a brow. “You didn’t even notice me walk in, and this is the first thing you do?”

You grinned. “Well, you weren’t exactly loud about it.”

Just as you stepped back, a child rushed past, bumping into you at full speed. You stumbled, thrown off balance, and for a brief moment, you thought you might crash straight into Mydei—until his hand caught your wrist, steadying you with ease.

“Careful”

You let out a short laugh, regaining your footing. “Thanks. You could’ve just let me fall, you know.”

“And let you take me down with you? No thanks.”

The day continued, and surprisingly, Mydei lingered. He leaned against a shelf, watching as you worked, occasionally glancing at the customers but never interfering. He had no reason to stay, yet he made no move to leave.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the last customer stepped out, you stretched with a sigh, locking up the shop for the night. “Didn’t think you’d stick around that long”

“It’s dangerous,” he replied simply, arms crossed. “Beasts have been spotted near town. You shouldn’t walk home alone.”

“Oh? And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.”

He scoffed but didn’t argue. Instead, he walked alongside you as you made your way home, the quiet hum of the night settling around you both. When you finally reached your door, he stopped a few steps away, watching as you unlocked it.

“This where you live?”

You nodded. “Yup. Cozy, isn’t it?”

He didn’t comment, only nodding slightly. “Stay inside at night.”

With that, he turned, disappearing into the shadows of the street.

You lingered for a moment, watching where he had gone before finally stepping inside. Something about him stuck with you, and despite his rough demeanor, you couldn’t help but smile.

The following days passed as usual. Customers came and went, some lingering to chat, others leaving with trinkets tucked away in their pockets. Yet, amidst the routine, you began to notice something—or rather, someone.

Mydei.

You never saw him enter the shop, nor did he ever buy anything, but you caught glimpses of him near the marketplace, often stationed in the same general area. He was never in armor, never dressed in anything that would mark him as a guard or knight, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made you wonder.

At first, you assumed it was coincidence. Maybe he just happened to be around. But as the days passed, you realized it was too frequent to be chance. He wasn’t a customer, yet he lingered. He wasn’t a merchant, yet he remained nearby. Still, you weren’t one to pry. If Mydei had business in the area, it wasn’t really your concern.

Then one evening, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, a group of men entered your shop.

You noticed them immediately—rough around the edges, their movements too casual, too calculated. They weren’t here to browse; their eyes weren’t on the merchandise. Instinctively, you stayed behind the counter, watching them with the same easy calm you always carried.

One of them stepped forward, idly picking up a small carved pendant. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks” you said.

He turned the pendant over in his hands before setting it back down. Another one looked toward the back of the shop as if expecting to find something—or someone.

That’s when you realized. They weren’t stealing. They were looking for someone.

Before you could say anything, a familiar voice cut through the tense silence.

“Took you idiots long enough.”

Mydei stood in the doorway. The men stiffened, immediately straightening like soldiers caught slacking off.

“Captain” one of them muttered under his breath.

Captain? Well. That explained a lot.

“Back to your posts” Mydei ordered, “Now.”

The men hesitated for only a moment before shuffling toward the exit, each one sending you a quick glance as if only now realizing their presence might have looked… suspicious.

Once they were gone, you turned back to Mydei, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “So, Captain, huh?”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I don’t make a habit of announcing it.”

“You also don’t make a habit of staying in one place unless you have a reason.”

His gaze flickered toward you, unreadable. He didn’t confirm or deny it.

Instead, he only muttered, “They won’t bother you again.”

You shrugged. “Wasn’t really bothered to begin with.”

With a short nod, he turned to leave.

It was another evening at the market, the golden hues of the setting sun casting long shadows as you prepared to close up shop. As usual, one of your friends—Edward, a vendor from a few stalls down—came by to help carry the heavier crates of unsold goods back inside. It had become routine by now, something neither of you thought much about.

“You really should hire someone for this” your friend teased, easily lifting a wooden box filled with carved trinkets. “One day, you’ll be stuck under a pile of your own stock.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “And ruin your chance to show off? I wouldn’t dare.”

The two of you worked smoothly, chatting about market gossip and the odd customers you had encountered that day. You didn’t notice Mydei at first, but he had been watching from a distance, arms crossed, gaze unreadable. He wasn’t even sure why he was still here. Yet, as he saw the easy familiarity between you and your friend—the way you smiled, the way they stood close—something in his chest tightened.

Before he could think twice, his body moved on its own.

He stepped in between you just as you reached for another crate, his hand easily grasping the handle before you could. “I’ll do it.”

“Mydei? Didn’t know you were in the business of heavy lifting.”

“You shouldn’t rely on random people.” He didn’t look at your friend, but the message was clear enough.

Your friend raised an amused brow but didn’t argue, instead watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled interest. “Not random” he pointed out, arms crossing. “I help all the time.”

Mydei didn’t respond. He simply hefted the crate as if it weighed nothing, walking into the shop with ease. You exchanged a glance with your friend, who smirked knowingly before waving you off and heading back to their own stall.

Once inside, you turned to Mydei, leaning against the counter with a grin. “Didn’t take you for the helpful type.”

He placed the crate down with a little more force than necessary, expression unreadable. “You’re careless.”

You tilted your head. “How so?”

“Letting just anyone help you. You don’t know what their intentions are.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re really that concerned?”

He scoffed but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced around the shop, as if checking for anything else to ‘help’ with.

Part of him wanted to say no—that it wasn’t concern, that he didn’t care. But the truth was, he did. More than he should.

“…Just be careful” he muttered at last.

You smiled. “Always am.”

The next day, the marketplace was bustling as usual, and you were busy sorting through a new batch of trinkets when Edward stopped by. It was nothing out of the ordinary—he often passed through to chat or lend a hand when he had the time.

“You’ve got something on your face” he said, leaning in slightly as he observed your face.

You blinked. “Huh? Oh.”

Before you could react, he carefully reached out, brushing the side of your face to remove whatever it was. The gesture was entirely innocent, but from an outside perspective—especially from a blocked or skewed angle—it might’ve looked a little different.

And unfortunately for Edward, Mydei happened to be that outside perspective.

From where he stood, partially obscured by a wooden post at the edge of the shop, all he saw was Edward’s face close to yours, his hand hovering near your cheek, and you standing there without pulling away.

In an instant, he was moving.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mydei’s voice cut through the moment.

Edward, startled, immediately pulled back and turned to see Mydei standing there—expression unreadable, stance tense.

You blinked at Mydei’s sudden entrance, then at Edward, then back at Mydei. It took you about two seconds to put the pieces together, and when you did, amusement curled at the edges of your lips.

Edward let out a short sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Relax, I was just getting something out of her eye.”

Edward, not one to test his luck, let out a low chuckle and took a step back. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” He shot you a knowing glance before casually making his exit.

The moment he was gone, you turned to Mydei with a smirk, resting your chin in your hand.

“Wow” you mused, tone playful. “Didn’t take you for the type to interrupt people like that.”

He clicked his tongue, looking away. “I have to remind you that you don’t know what people’s intentions are.”

You tilted your head. “Uh-huh. And what exactly did you think was happening?”

He didn’t answer, but his jaw tensed ever so slightly.

Your smirk widened. “You’re like a big cat that’s always on edge.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“You know, the kind that watches everything, always looking ready to pounce if something gets too close.” You grinned. “Kinda cute, honestly.”

“… Stop talking nonsense.”

But despite his sharp words, Mydei stayed. Even when the conversation ended, even when there was no longer a reason to linger, he stayed.

Just like he always did.

----

The sun had long since passed its highest point when Mydei arrived at your shop, only to find the doors shut tight. No sign, no explanation, nothing. He frowned.

You never closed without warning.

For the first time in a long while, a foreign sense of unease settled in his chest. He told himself it was ridiculous—you were probably fine—but as the hours ticked by and the shop remained closed, that irritation grew into something sharper.

By the time dusk began creeping across the marketplace, he had already decided to check on you himself. But just as he moved toward the door, you finally appeared—yawning, stretching, completely at ease.

He stared. “Where the hell have you been?”

You blinked at him, rubbing your eyes. “Overslept.”

“…Overslept” he repeated flatly.

You grinned. “Yup.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. Here he was, thinking something might’ve happened, only for you to be completely unfazed, acting as if you hadn’t just left your shop closed the entire day.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you teased. “You worried?”

He scoffed, looking away. “Tch. You’re careless.”

“Well, since it’s already this late, might as well do something else.” You stretched again, eyes flicking to him. “What about you? Where were you headed?”

Mydei hesitated for a moment before answering, “…Camp.”

You tilted your head, interested. “Your camp, huh?”

“Not a place for civilians,” he muttered, already expecting you to drop it.

Instead, you grinned. “Sounds fun. Let’s go.”

His men were not prepared.

The moment you entered the camp, curious eyes peered from behind tents and around corners. Soldiers whispered among themselves, their gazes darting between you and Mydei like they had just seen a ghost.

Their captain—who barely tolerated company, let alone anyone outside of their ranks—had brought someone along? A girl?

Somewhere in the shadows, a small group crouched together, trying (and failing) to be discreet.

“She’s so… casual?”

“She’s actually talking to him.”

“She’s still alive.”

“Do you think she—?”

Before the last sentence could even be finished, Mydei turned sharply, his piercing gaze landing right on them.

“Out” he ordered.

There was a brief scramble of bodies before they all disappeared in a mess of quiet shouts and tripping feet.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter. “They’re fun.”

“They’re idiots” he corrected, rubbing his temples.

You only hummed in amusement, following him to where a small campfire burned, casting warm flickering light over the clearing. Mydei sat first, and you settled beside him, close enough to feel the lingering heat but not too close to crowd him.

For a while, there was only silence—the crackling of fire, the distant sounds of the camp settling down for the night.

You stretched your legs out, gazing into the flames. “So, do they always eavesdrop like that, or was this a special occasion?”

“They’re not used to seeing me with company.”

You smirked. “Oh? So I’m special?”

He shot you a look, but the usual sharpness wasn’t quite there.

You leaned back on your hands, watching the embers float up into the dark sky. “Y’know, this is nice. I should close my shop more often.”

“…You must be crazy.”

But despite his words, Mydei didn’t look irritated. If anything, he stayed there longer than necessary, watching the fire, listening to your stories, and letting the quiet companionship settle between you.

The fire crackled between you, warm and steady, casting shifting shadows over Mydei’s face. He had been quiet for a while, arms resting on his knees, gaze fixed somewhere beyond the flames.

Then, without looking at you, he spoke.

“…I have a friend.”

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

He nodded slightly. “He’s… in a situation.”

You smirked, already catching on to where this was going. But you let him continue.

“This friend,” he went on, “has a crush on a girl.”

You bit back a grin. “Mhm.”

“He doesn’t know how to… approach her about it.” His words were carefully chosen, like he was trying not to make it obvious. “She’s carefree. Doesn’t seem to take things too seriously. He doesn’t know if she’d even notice.”

You hummed, tapping a finger against your chin in thought. “Sounds like this friend of yours thinks too much.”

Mydei shot you a look. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” you countered with a lazy grin. “If he likes her, he should just… y’know, show it.”

He frowned. “Show it how?”

You shrugged. “Small things. Stick around her. Do things for her. Make it clear she’s different from everyone else. And if he’s brave enough, tell her.”

Mydei went quiet for a moment, mulling over your words. You weren’t sure if he expected something grander—some complicated strategy—but you could tell he was taking your advice seriously.

And then, almost immediately after, he tested it.

A second later, he reached out, plucking a stray leaf from your hair with casual ease.

“…What” he muttered, glancing away like it was nothing. “There was something there.”

You stared. Then, slowly, a knowing grin spread across your lips.

“Mydei.”

He tensed. “What?”

“You’re predictable.”

“What are you talking about?”

You laughed, nudging his arm. “You’re following my advice already. You’re really bad at being subtle.”

He scoffed, looking off to the side, but the way his fingers twitched betrayed him.

You shook your head, amused beyond belief. “Well, tell your friend this—he doesn’t have to worry. I think the girl already noticed.”

-----

The shift was slow—so gradual you barely noticed at first. Mydei had always been watchful, lingering near your shop more than necessary, helping out in small ways that he’d brush off as coincidence. But then it started becoming… more.

You weren’t the only one to notice. The market folk whispered about it. Your friend Edward raised an eyebrow when Mydei always happened to be around. Even his own men exchanged looks whenever you visited the camp, though they were too scared to say anything outright.

And Mydei? He didn’t care what anyone thought.

But what truly set things in motion was when another man—some passing traveler—got a little too comfortable in your shop.

It was harmless, really. The man was just talkative, leaning in slightly as he complimented one of your handmade trinkets, flashing a charming smile. You, being as easygoing as always, just laughed and continued the conversation.

And Mydei, standing just outside the shop, watching from the shade of an awning, felt something snap.

The stranger’s hand briefly touched yours as you passed him a necklace.

That was it.

Before you could react, a shadow loomed behind you.

“You’re done here.”

The traveler barely had time to turn before Mydei was there, towering over him.

The man blinked in confusion. “Uh—”

“Leave.”

The traveler raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. “Didn’t mean anything by it, mate. Just chatting.”

“Chat somewhere else.”

The moment the man was gone, you turned to Mydei, raising an amused brow. “That was aggressive.”

He didn’t answer, his jaw tight, his fists still clenched like he was resisting the urge to chase after the guy and make sure he never even thought about coming near you again.

You grinned, nudging him. “You’re like a big cat again. All tense, ready to pounce.”

His gaze snapped to you.

“Mydei?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t like people getting too close to you.”

You smirked. “Well, if you wanted me all to yourself, you could’ve just said so.”

His eyes flickered, something snapping into place. And then, in one swift movement, he stepped forward, crowding your space, forcing you to take a step back until your spine brushed against the counter.

“Fine,” he said, “I want you to myself.”

“No more ‘friend’ nonsense. No more watching you let people touch you, talk to you like they have a chance.” His eyes burned into yours. “If you belong to anyone, it’s me.”

Silence stretched between you.

“…Wait, what?” You blinked. “You—what?”

“I said,” his voice didn’t waver, though you swore his ears were turning red, “I want you to myself.”

For once, you were actually stunned into silence.

“…Alright,” you said, still watching his expression closely. “Let’s test that, then.”

“What?”

“A test date,” you clarified, tilting your head. “If you’re serious, prove it.”

His gaze flickered, as if trying to gauge if you were teasing or not. But when he realized you weren’t laughing—when he saw that you were actually agreeing—something in him shifted.

Before he could respond, however—

“WOOHOOO!”

The loud cheering and applause from outside made both of you jolt.

You turned your head just in time to see a whole group of people—his soldiers, a couple of market vendors, even Edward—watching from the entrance of your shop, clapping and whistling like they had just witnessed the grand finale of a play.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE HE FINALLY SAID IT!”

“I OWE YOU FIVE COINS, EDWARD!”

“OUR CAPTAIN’S FINALLY A MAN!!”

A vein visibly twitched on Mydei’s forehead.

“ALL OF YOU—LEAVE! NOW!!”

In an instant, the group scrambled, tripping over themselves as they scattered like startled rats.

You, on the other hand, were barely holding back laughter. “Oh, wow. They’ve been waiting for this, huh?”

Mydei groaned, rubbing his temples. “…I’m going to kill them.”

You chuckled, nudging him. “Not before our date, you’re not.”

“…Fine.” He shot you a look. “But don’t think this is just a ‘test.’ I don’t intend to lose.”

“We’ll see, big guy.”

Mydei was not a romantic.

This became very clear about five minutes into the so-called “test date.”

You had expected him to be awkward—maybe stiff, maybe too serious—but you hadn’t expected him to treat it like some kind of mission.

The moment you met up, he stood there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, eyes scanning you like he was assessing the situation.

“…What?”

“I don’t know how these things work.”

“That’s the point of a test, isn’t it?”

He grumbled something under his breath, but then—without warning—he reached out and took your hand.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sudden contact. He held it firmly, almost too tight, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“…Too much?” he muttered, not looking at you.

You chuckled, easing his grip just slightly. “A little. You’re holding me like a prisoner.”

His ears turned red, but he didn’t let go.

The first thing Mydei failed at was conversation.

You both walked through the market, and while you tried to talk about casual things—the weather, your shop, the odd things you saw—he kept answering in single words.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.”

At one point, you just stopped walking and looked at him.

“…Are you planning on saying more than one sentence today?” you teased.

He frowned. “I don’t talk much.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

He shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable. You realized then that he was actually trying—it just wasn’t coming naturally to him.

“Alright, alright. Don’t stress. Just—” You tugged his arm slightly. “Tell me something about yourself. Something no one else knows.”

His eyes flickered toward you, something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer.

Then, finally, he muttered, “I hate spicy things.”

You blinked. “Huh. Really?”

He nodded.

“…So if I gave you a something spicy right now, you wouldn’t eat it?”

“…I’d eat it if you gave it to me.”

Oh.

The second thing Mydei failed at was dealing with people.

As you walked through the town, a few people—mostly men—stopped to greet you. Some were regulars at your shop, some just acquaintances. But every single time someone so much as looked at you for too long, Mydei’s grip on your hand tightened.

At one point, one of your regulars, a friendly merchant, smiled at you and asked if you were free later to look at some new goods.

Before you could even answer, Mydei cut in with a flat, “She’s busy.”

The man blinked. “…Oh. I—”

“She’s not available” Mydei added, tone sharper this time.

You sighed, nudging him. “Relax, I can speak for myself.”

Mydei huffed but didn’t say anything else. He did not like people taking your attention.

It was ridiculous. But… also kind of cute.

The third thing Mydei failed at was subtlety.

At some point, you stopped by a food stall, eyeing some skewered meat. The moment you reached for your coin pouch, Mydei immediately slapped money down before you could pay.

You raised an eyebrow. “I can pay for myself, you know.”

“No.”

“…No?”

He crossed his arms. “I take care of what’s mine.”

Your breath caught slightly at the phrasing. But before you could tease him for it, he shoved a skewer into your hands, looking away like he hadn’t just claimed you in the middle of a crowded street.

By the end of the day, you had to admit—he was bad at this.

And yet.

Despite all the failures, despite all his awkwardness and overprotectiveness, he tried.

And then, as the sun was setting, he did something that truly moved you.

You had mentioned offhandedly a few days ago that your favorite spot in town was an old bridge overlooking a quiet stream. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

But as evening fell, Mydei silently led you there.

You blinked in surprise as you stepped onto the bridge, the soft glow of lanterns reflecting in the water. The air was crisp, the sounds of the market distant.

“…You remembered”

He stood beside you, arms resting on the railing, gazing out at the water.

“I remember everything you say” he admitted quietly.

For a moment, you just looked at him—the way the fading sunlight touched his sharp features, the way his fingers tapped absently against the wood, the way he had tried so hard today just because he wanted to be with you.

And that was it.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Mydei froze.

You pulled back slightly, smirking. “You pass.”

It took him a solid three seconds to react. His face slowly turned red—first his ears, then his neck, then his entire expression.

“…Tch.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, looking away. But he didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he held it tighter.

“Guess I'll be bothering you from now on.”

“…I don't mind.”

[bewaryofpity]

fluff 19 withe luke hughes pls✨✨

thank you for requesting ! 🩶

19. “I think my family/friends really liked you. Maybe more than they like me.”

.

Luke didn’t necessarily hide you from his friends and family, he just wasn’t the type of guy to flaunt his relationship in front of everyone. He was reserved and private, so when he was met with his parents and brothers at the front door he felt like panicking.

He stood still, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, and it took you bumping into his back completely unaware of what was going on for him to get himself together. And when you finally followed his gaze, you mirrored his pose. You wanted to hide behind him, but the way his mom’s eyes immediately flickered between the two of you made it clear you had been caught. 

“Why are you all here?” Luke asked.

“Dude, we play the Canucks tomorrow night. And I told you I was gonna pick up mom, dad and Quinn from the airport.” Jack grumbled, his brows raising before a slow smirk spread across his face. “Wait, who are you?”

Luke sighed, shifting awkwardly. “Y/N, my… girlfriend.” He whispered.

Quinn looked amused, his arms crossed as he studied the two of you. “And you just weren’t gonna tell us?”

“I mean, I was gonna tell you eventually.” Luke groaned. 

Ellen though ignored her sons' teasing, stepping in front of you with a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you, sweetheart.” She gave Luke a playful teasing look, “I wish we’d known sooner.”

You laughed, feeling a little more at ease already. “I think Luke just likes keeping me all to himself.”

“Sounds about right,” Jack muttered. “I live with you dude, why the fuck— ow!”

Ellen rolled her eyes at him, gently snaking the back of his head. Jim gave you a firm handshake and a friendly nod before they ushered inside to get comfortable.

The first few minutes were filled with little moments of teasing, mostly from Jack, but it didn’t take long for the conversation to settle and turn into something more natural. You found it easy talking with his parents, they instantly brushed off that Luke kept you a secret for months. Ellen was the first to tell you that she had a feeling that something, or rather someone, was making her son more at ease, more comfortable with himself now.

It wasn't long before dinner started and the conversation shifted away from you with Ellen talking about the kids growing up, sharing wholesome and fun memories, and you could tell how close Luke was to his family just by the way he listened, a small, content smile on his face, not complaining much about the embarrassing stories his mom was telling you.

He was quiet for the most part, just taking in how you fit so well with his family, yet he couldn’t help but still send you small glances, making sure you were okay. You laughed at their jokes, told your own stories about your childhood, answered any question that came your way about you and Luke. 

“So, he asked for your number after he spilled his drink all over you, didn’t even ask for your name first?” Jack asked, leaning forward with interest, a boyish grin on his lips.

Luke shot him a glare. “We’re not doing this.”

“Oh, we’re definitely doing this.” Quinn said, smirking.

“Yes, but that wasn’t so bad. I’ll tell you, on our first date…” You grinned while Luke groaned, dropping his head into his hands as the rest of the family eagerly listened.

By the time the night wound down, everyone was exhausted from the long day. As you and Luke retreated to his room, he closed the door and leaned against it with a dramatic sigh.

“That was exhausting,” he mumbled.

You chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

He lifted his head, opening one of his eyes to give you a pointed look. “You know, I think my family really liked you. Maybe more than they like me.”

You smirked, motioning for him to join you on the bed. “Can you blame them?”

He groaned, letting his full body weight rest on top of you. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend.”

You wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Don’t worry, Lu. You’re still my favorite Hughes.”

He huffed, but you felt him relax against you, nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck. And after a while, between getting ready and finally settling underneath the covers,  Luke pulled you to him, holding you close, the warmth of the day still lingering between you.

[soaln]

can i request hcs of monster trio and ace/law getting jealous of someone stealing reader’s attention?

𝓗𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 ﹒ ౨ৎ

𓏵 ﹒ ┈ warnings : none, pure fluff, gender isn't mentioned I think ｡— ◟ 𖦹

𝓜𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

Luffy, despite his carefree and unrefined nature, is open about his feelings for you. His youthful exuberance and boundless energy make his attachment to you both overwhelming and endearing. If someone tries to take your attention away, he doesn’t hesitate to express his feelings. His face scrunches up into an exaggerated pout, his lips puffing out as he declares, “Hey! That’s my [Y/N]!” in a tone that is both childish and possessive.

Luffy usually doesn’t care much about competition, but when it comes to you, he will go to great lengths to capture your attention. Whether it’s interrupting conversations with his signature enthusiasm or pulling you into a tight, playful hug, he makes sure everyone knows you are his priority.

If someone continues to ignore him, Luffy's behavior will become even more outrageous. He might start doing silly stunts, telling jokes, or even challenging the intruder to a goofy competition—all to get your attention back. His actions are loud, chaotic, and completely in character, but they stem from a place of genuine affection.

𝓡𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

Zoro’s jealousy is as sharp and precise as his swordsmanship. He’s not one to wear his emotions openly, but when someone catches your attention, his stoic demeanor becomes a little more intense. His arms cross, his gaze narrows, and his silence speaks volumes. He doesn’t need words to convey his displeasure.

If the situation escalates, Zoro's pride won't allow him to stand by without taking action. He'll find a way to involve himself, often pretending that he needs your help with something trivial, like adjusting his swords or reaching for a drink. His movements are deliberate, and his tone remains casual, but his piercing gaze is always fixed on the intruder.

Zoro’s jealousy is subtle yet powerful. He doesn’t create a scene, but his actions and presence are enough to remind everyone—especially you—that he’s not someone to be underestimated when it comes to matters of the heart.

𝓥𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

Sanji’s jealousy is as intense and dramatic as his personality. When someone tries to capture your attention, his romantic nature ignites like a storm. His words are filled with passion and possessiveness, and his voice drips with charming sweetness as he declares, “Darling, you should know, no one could ever treat you the way I do!”

His jealousy is anything but subtle. He showers you with flirtatious compliments while his eyes smolder with intensity, casting pointed glances at anyone he sees as a threat. Sanji's love language revolves around grand gestures, which he uses to remind you—and everyone else—that you are his muse, his one and only.

If the situation requires it, Sanji will go all out. He might prepare an extravagant meal just for you, presenting it with a theatrical bow and flourish. His jealousy is intertwined with passion, spectacle, and an unwavering devotion that is impossible to ignore.

𝓟𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐆𝐀𝐒 𝐃. 𝐀𝐂𝐄

Ace’s jealousy is subtle, reflecting his laid-back personality, yet it runs deep. When someone captures your attention, he observes from a distance, maintaining a calm expression while his gaze remains intense. A quiet tension fills the air, and a slight change in his demeanor reveals the depth of his feelings.

If the intruder persists, Ace will step in with his trademark charm and ease. His words are teasing, his tone light, but there’s a possessiveness lurking beneath the surface. “Careful, they might bite,” he might say with a smirk, his voice smooth and affectionate. “You wouldn’t want to get too close.”

Ace’s jealousy is never overt, but it’s always present. He doesn’t need grand gestures or dramatic declarations to remind you where his heart lies. His quiet confidence and subtle actions speak louder than words ever could.

𝓣𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝓦𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖

Law's jealousy is a masterclass in restraint and quiet intensity. He doesn't engage in loud displays of emotion, but when someone attracts too much of your attention, his presence becomes unmistakable. He lingers in the background, his posture rigid and his gaze sharp, while his silence is heavy with unspoken possessiveness.

His actions are intentional and thoughtful. A gentle touch, a soft word, or a slight change in distance is enough to remind you—and everyone else—that you belong to him. “You seem… quite interested in them,” he might murmur, his tone cool but tinged with a hint of irritation.

When Law's patience begins to wear thin, his jealousy becomes more evident. A slight scowl, a protective arm around you, or a sharp glare at the intruder acts as a silent warning. His love is deep and intimate, and he won't hesitate to defend it with the same precision he uses in battle.

[vbecker10]

What Were You Going to Ask Me?

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Sam & Steve push Bucky to ask you out on a date but every time he tries to ask you, something or someone interrupts him. After several failed attempts to find out what Bucky needs to ask you, he acts as if he forgot his question when he mistakenly thinks you have a daughter and husband.

Sam rolls his eyes as he turns on the lights in the empty gym, "Okay seriously Buck, I'm tired of hearing about Y/N. Can you give it a rest for like ten minutes?"

"Why? What's wrong with Y/N?" Bucky asks defensively, following Sam over to the boxing area.

"Nothin'..." he explains with a sigh. "But you haven't stopped talking about her for a solid week."

"I don't talk about her that much," Bucky argues, folding his arms across his chest as he drops his gym bag at his feet.

"It's literally all the damn time," Sam insists. "I mean come on, I know how Y/N takes her coffee and her favorite pizza place-"

"It's good pizza," Bucky interrupts.

"That's not even close to my point," Sam opens his bag and digs around for what he needs.

"I hate to say it but Sam's right," Steve joins the conversation finally, putting his gym bag down at the end of a row of punching bags.

"Really man?" Sam asks as he takes offense to Steve's comment. "I'm right pretty often."

"Yeah, like when?" Bucky counters with a smirk.

"Stop it, we're getting off topic," Steve says in his Captain America tone before Sam can start an argument with Bucky. "Look Buck, we both know you like Y/N, it's painfully obvious."

Bucky kneels down and unzips his gym bag, pulling out a long wrap for his hand. Keeping his head down, he ignores Steve who continues to talk with Sam. He really thought he was hiding his growing feelings for you better than this. If his friends noticed, were you able to tell too? Maybe you did know and you didn't feel the same and that's why you never brought it up.

"Dude really?" Sam stands over the super soldier and finally gets his attention.

"What?" Bucky looks up then stands slowly.

"Would you please just ask her out already?" Sam asks desperately.

Before Bucky can explain all the reasons why that's a bad idea, his oldest friend puts his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly and looks him straight in the eyes. "If you don't ask her by the end of the day, I'm doing it for you," Steve says. "You're driving me nuts Bucky."

After training, Bucky goes back to his apartment to shower then heads straight for your office before he loses his nerve or worse... Steve makes good on his threat. He knocks on the door and waits anxiously on the other side.

You sigh, looking up from your screen as you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes tightly. You had spent the last two hours training the new SHIELD intern but you have a feeling he didn't retain a single thing you told him. That better not be Josh with more questions already, you think.

"Come in," you call with as little annoyance in your voice as possible. Picking up your cup, you finish your second lukewarm coffee of the day as the door opens. "Oh, hi Bucky," you say cheerfully as soon as you see the super soldier walk into your office. He smiles at you and you immediately forget how aggravated you had been only seconds ago.

"Hey Y/N," he smiles back as he closes the door, his nervousness easing slightly by how excited you are to see him. He takes a seat across from you, his eyes leaving yours momentarily to take in the tall stack of case files and two empty coffee cups. "Busy day?"

"Always is," you shrug and you notice his smile fade slightly which is the last thing you want. You can't explain how much you love to see him happy, it gives you butterflies anytime he smiles, especially when you are the one who caused it to happen. "I always have time for you though. What can I help you with?" you ask. "I didn't think you had any up coming missions, did I miss one?"

"Uh, no. I actually have a question for you," Bucky replies. He shifts on the chair and runs his metal fingers through his hair.

"Oh, okay. What's-" you start to ask what he needs but your attention is pulled away from Bucky to your phone ringing. You groan when you see who it is, "Sorry, I need to get this, it's Agent Hill."

He nods and gets up to leave. "It'll just take a second, you can stay," you tell him but he's already out the door.

At lunch you decide to go looking for Bucky, still curious about what he wanted to ask you. You head up to the Avengers living quarters and make your way to the kitchen. He's standing with his back to you as he digs through the fridge for something to eat, when he turns and sees you behind him a smile spreads across his face.

"Hey," he says, carrying the ingredients for a sandwich over to the island.

"Hi again," you smile back and walk closer to him. "I was hoping I'd find you here." That was only a little lie, you knew you would find him here. Bucky always eats lunch in the kitchen unless he's on a mission or stuck in meetings.

"You were looking for me?" he asks as he assembles his lunch.

"Yeah, I was wondering what you wanted to ask me before," you explain.

"Oh, umm..." his cheeks redden and you can't help but wonder if he's blushing or if you're seeing things. "Well I was wondering if-"

Tony walks in and Bucky's mouth clamps shut tightly which only makes you more curious. "Hey," Tony greets you both as he makes his way to the fridge to grab a drink.

"Hi," you respond but keep your eyes on Bucky who suddenly seems overly focused on his lunch. He gathers the remaining ingredients and quickly puts them away. "Oh, did you still need to talk?" you ask Bucky, hoping he won't leave yet.

"Yeah, maybe later. I'll come by your office in a bit," he says without looking at you as he walks past Tony and heads towards his apartment with his plate.

"So that was weird even for him," Tony says when you two are alone.

"It was right?" you ask. You're tempted to follow him but before you can leave the kitchen your phone alerts you that you have a meeting starting in fifteen minutes. With a sigh, you head back to your office.

Two hours later, you've completely given up on the idea that Bucky will come visit your office and finally ask you his question. The fact that he didn't want to talk about it when Tony was there just makes you even more curious. It obviously doesn't have anything to do with work so what the heck is it?

You bite your lip and just as your mind begins to wander, your phone vibrates. The initial disappointment you feel when the call isn't from Bucky vanishes when you hear your sisters voice on the other end of the line.

You check your watch to make sure you're not late while the coffee maker works on your third cup of the day. You need to be down in the lobby in the next ten minutes or so.

"Hi Y/N," Bucky's voice fills the previously empty kitchen.

"Oh, hey," you give a small wave and your smile brightens when you see him, Steve and Sam. "I've got a few minutes until I need to do something, can we talk about whatever your question was?"

"You didn't ask yet?" Sam looks at Bucky as you reach for the sugar in the cabinet above you. Your back is turned to the trio so you miss the disappointed look Steve gives his friend but not the sound of Bucky smacking Sam's shoulder to quiet him.

You laugh, "I've been trying all day to find out what the heck he needs to ask me."

"Yeah, about that-" Bucky starts, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

Your phone vibrates and you take it out to check the new message. "Sorry Bucky, I need to head to the lobby," you interrupt him.

"Right," he nods. "I'll uh... I'll ask you later."

"Come with me," you tell him. "You can ask me on the way. I'm dying of curiosity here."

He laughs nervously, "Yeah, sure." Steve pats his back hard as he walks past his friends and follows you.

The elevator is crowded with people leaving to go home for the day and you frown knowing Bucky won't even give you a hint as to what his question is. On a more positive note, the cramped elevator means your back is pressed against his chest for the duration of the ride down. This is as close to the super soldier as you've ever been, you've thought about giving him a hug once or twice before but you always held back.

Bucky closes his eyes, keeping his hands in his pockets to ensure he doesn't reach out without thinking to hold you tighter to his body. His mind wanders briefly as he wonders if you'd let out that adorable giggle of yours if he kissed your cheek or put his arms around you.

When the elevator reaches the lobby, you hear what sounds like Bucky sighing in relief behind you. You bite your lip at his reaction and take as big of a step away from him as you can while you wait for everyone else to get out.

Bucky follows you, curious about who you are meeting since he had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he forgot to ask. Maybe one of your friends? Hopefully not a boyfriend, you hadn't mentioned one but there was a lot he still didn't know about you. He stops walking and his heart sinks when a little girl runs over to you, hugging you tightly as you kneel down to greet her. You stand up, holding the child then walk a few steps closer to a man Bucky fears is your husband as he's obviously the girls father. He hands you a small backpack and kisses the little girls head which makes her giggle. The sound reminds Bucky of you and he does his best not to let his emotions show on his face as he watches you.

"Say bye to daddy," you tell the girl and she waves as he leaves through the front doors. You turn back to Bucky with a smile. "Ready to go back up?"

He doesn't answer, his mind swimming. He thought for sure you were flirting with him but maybe you were just being nice. Had he read the whole situation completely wrong?

"Bucky?" you ask to get his attention.

"Bucky," the girl repeats and giggles.

"Yes, that's Bucky," you put her backpack over your shoulder and wave at him. The little girl copies you.

Bucky wiggles his metal fingers as he waves back which you find far too adorable. His bright smile returns and he pushes the button for the elevator as he takes the pink unicorn bag from you. "Hi there, what's your name?" he asks.

"Lucy," she answers with a wide smile, showing off a missing front tooth.

"It's nice to meet you Lucy," Bucky tells her as you follow him onto the elevator.

"Okay, so what did you want to ask me?" you ask and laugh a little. "Sorry we keep getting distracted."

"Oh, I forgot what it was," he shrugs. "I guess it wasn't important."

"Seriously?" you ask not believing him. "All day I've been trying to figure out it and that's all I get?"

"Sorry," he responds, his eyes focus on the elevator buttons and he remains quiet until you reach the common floor.

"Oh my goodness, who is this?" Nat smiles when the three of you enter the kitchen. Sam and Steve sit across from her, their discussion about what to order for dinner coming to an abrupt end.

Lucy bites her lip, looking at all the new faces and turns in your arms, hiding herself against your shoulder. "Aww, are you feeling shy?" you say to her gently.

She nods and Bucky rubs her back slowly which takes you by surprise. Lucy looks up at him and he smirks, "Don't be shy, everyone's so excited to meet you. Want to show them your missing tooth?"

She giggles excitedly and smiles wide as she faces your friends, pointing to the little hole between her teeth.

"Wow," Sam says. "You get a dollar from the tooth fairy?"

Lucky nods quickly as you set her down now that she seems more relaxed.

"Y/N, she looks just like you," Nat states, looking from you to Lucy.

"Right?" you laugh. "I always thought that was funny cause my sister and I don't really look alike."

"My brother-in-law got called into work early and my sister got stuck in a late meeting so I told them I could watch her for a few hours," you explain.

Bucky nearly drops the backpack when he goes to place it on the island and the sudden slip doesn't go unnoticed by the spy or his friends. You, however, don't notice as your preoccupied watching Lucy wander over to Bucky.

"Wait, so she's not your daughter?" Steve asks, his tone a mix of confusion and surprise.

You laugh again, "What? No, I'm on aunt duty tonight." Looking around, you see Bucky's mouth hanging open and Sam shrugging at Steve. "Wait, did you guys really think I had a daughter I forget to tell you about?"

"No, of course not," Steve says quickly.

"Absolutely not," Sam says at the same time.

Bucky remains quiet but you see the smile return to his face and wonder if that's why he had been so awkward in the elevator. "The three of you are idiots," Nat shakes her head, voicing your thoughts perfectly.

"Well yeah, but I just thought..." Bucky's thought trails off when Lucy grabs onto his pants leg and tugs to get his attention. "Hi," he smiles down at her.

She giggles up at him and reaches her arms up, "Bucky."

"I don't mind," he smiles as he sways a bit back and forth. "I think someone is tired."

"You tired of me already?" you pretend to pout but it doesn't get her attention, she continues to smile up at him and he kneels down to be at eye level. "Oh I get it, you just want to tall, handsome, soldier to hold you?" You blush when you realize you said that last part outloud and you can tell by Nat's expression and the way Bucky's head snaps in your direction that they all heard it.

Bucky gently lifts her up with his right arm and she cuddles against his chest. "You don't have to..." you tell him.

"Are you ever going to tell me what you wanted to ask me?" you look up at him as the elevator doors close, leaving you alone and him with no way to escape the question that's been following you around all day.

"I-" you try to process a question that wasn't anywhere on your list of possible topics. He bites his lip as he watches your brain slowly catchup. "Yes! Yeah, yes I'd love to," you giggle and notice his smile returning but then yours fades. "Ooh no... I can't, I'm sorry."

"Now seems as good a time as any," he says with a nervous smile. He clears his throat, "I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date this Friday?"

"What? No, I mean, yes I still really want to but just not this Friday. I promised I'd watch Lucy so my sister and her husband could go to a wedding," you explain quickly before he thinks you aren't interested in him.

His smile disappears completely, "It's okay, I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have asked."

He nods, putting his hands in his pockets. "Maybe next weekend?" he suggests with a shrug almost as if he's not sure he believes you.

"Or you could come over and help Friday?" you counter and he looks at you curiously. "Please? She already loves you and I get really bored after I put her to bed. I really want to spend more time with you. We could watch a movie or something."

"Sure," Bucky relaxes and you grin happily. "You think your sister will be okay if I come over?"

"I don't think she's going to mind an Avenger watching over her kid while she's out," you tell him.

"Fair point," he takes a step closer to you as the doors open. "Its not quite a date, but I'm looking forward to it."

"Bucky!" Lucy screams excitedly when your sister opens the door and sees you with the super soldier.

"Wow, I'm forgotten about already," you say trying to sound overly hurt when you close the front door.

"She's been talking about him coming over since you called," Rachel laughs and gives you a hug as Bucky picks up your niece.

"Can we braid your hair?" the little girl asks with a smile as she pulls his hair gently.

"Maybe," he says with a smile that very obviously means yes.

"Glitter?" Bucky repeats nervously and you giggle with your sister as she puts on her coat.

"Oh and decorate your arm?" she asks as she reaches to play with his metal fingers.

"You going to make his arm pretty?" you joke with your niece who takes your question very seriously.

She nods, "Glitter."

"No glitter," your brother-in-law thankfully steps into the conversation. "Be good for aunt Y/N and Bucky okay sweetheart? We'll be home before you wake up."

She nods quickly, "I'll be good daddy." Bucky sets her back down so she can hug both her parents goodbye.

He leans over to whisper to you, "If I see one piece of glitter, I'm picking the movie and what we're doing on our date tomorrow."

"That was the worst threat ever," you smile back at him as the front door closes. "So, where's the glitter Lucy?"

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💙💙 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @ash-muses @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @wolfsmom1 @sabspoetic @peaches1958 @catsladen @michellewgrt @crimson25 @jaidenhawke @mochie85 @itscomplicatedx

[revelboo]

We just said goodbye to my bro's dog last night and rereading your stories is one of the few things getting me through the day without completely breaking down (yay distractions) 🙏🏻 lord help me as I go to work.

Pic cause he was the goodest boy who ever boy'd.

Oh, no- I’m so sorry to hear that. Huskies are such sweet, silly babies

Worker Bee Pt 22

Waspinator x Reader

• Stiffening when several slightly wilted daffodils, bulbs, roots and all, including the dirt are dumped in your lap and on the book you’re curled up reading, you take a deep breath. Head tipping back to stare at Waspinator looming over you, his mandibles shift into what you’ve decided is his equivalent to a smile. “Pretty for pretty little mate,” he says, antenna lifting. Not even going to try and argue the mate bit as you wonder which of your poor neighbor’s yards he’d been digging up. You’d convinced him to drag the azalea out of the living room and even to dig a hole and plant it near the house. Of course that had backfired when he’d came back inside looking like he’d been rolling around in the mud and had immediately pounced you for a hug.

• “Gee, thanks,” you mutter, little nose scrunching. Kneeling by the arm of the couch, he rests his chin on it, mandibles idly snagging the sleeve of your covering. “Don’t eat my clothes, please.” Sitting up you gather the flowers to yourself and head into your food area. Trailing behind you, he watches you cut one of plants’s stems and drop it into a glass with water. The rest you hold out. “Want to plant these?” Perking up, he takes them, servos sliding against the back of your hands and those eyes flick up to him. Encouraging him to move closer, venting to pull your scent deep.

• Skin prickling as his head tips, wings flicking fitfully, you back up and he lets you go even if there’s something almost predatory in the way he watches you. You’d hoped he’d ease up some if you just went along with his dating attempts, but he’s much more focused than normal now. Still your clingy wasp, but something has definitely shifted. And he follows you, moving slowly. Deliberately. Like he’s trying not to spook you. “Waspinator do good?” This is new, too. Keeps doing little things for you and then asking if you’re happy with him. Pleased with him. Like he’s a junkie for praise. Needs it. “Good at dating?”

• Watching you stumble to a stop when you back yourself into a wall, he cages you there with his palms splayed on either side of you. Watches you tense. Doesn’t understand this game. Letting him court you. Thanking him for taking care of you like a mate should. Then retreating from him. Avoiding him. Part of human courting? Keeps trying to confirm that he’s doing it right. That you’re happy with him, but you still shy away. Making him anxious with the need to please you so he can stay. “Waspinator,” you whisper, voice tense as you look up at him. “You’re crushing the daffodils.” And it’s so novel to be bigger than someone. He’s always been smaller than most of the other Decepticons.

• He’s too close. Looming over you and pinning you without touching you. And you don’t know what to do with this Waspinator. With his sudden, new found confidence. His boldness. Or maybe you’re just more aware of him now that you know what he’s up to. Maybe he’s not changed, just your awareness of him. “Waspinator good mate?” Forearm sliding against the wall, the spines at his elbow scrape the drywall when he leans down. Can feel the warmth of his venting stirring your hair. Suddenly breathless, you shove at his arm and all but run into the kitchen, aware of his soft, puzzled, “little mate?” Because that’s what he’s started calling you instead of little friend and it’s one more thing you’re not equipped to deal with right now.

Previous

[writeriguess]

Insecure chubby reader x big himbo kirishma but their relationship is secret and Mina has a crush on him and talks to reader all about it then one day after a big win she kisses red riot and their fans go crazy for it and reader falls apart doesn’t awnser Eijirou calls just shuts down and lays on her bed crying and hiding from the world and it only gets worst when kirishma try’s to fix it by post a pic of him and reader announcing she’s his gf of years and their fans tear reader apart.

Shattered in the Spotlight

The room is silent, save for the hum of your phone, lying face down on the nightstand as if it’s somehow easier to ignore the reality outside when it’s not in your line of sight. But you know it’s there. You feel the weight of the world pressing down on you, and it’s suffocating.

You’ve never felt this small, this insignificant. Not even when you first came to U.A., always worried about fitting in, about your body, about how you looked compared to everyone else. But Eijirou had always been different. He never made you feel like there was something wrong with you. You knew what the world thought of someone like you—overweight, clumsy, a little too much of everything, but not enough at the same time—but with him, it didn’t matter. His warmth, his attention, the way he made you feel like you were the only one in the room, made you believe that maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

But then there was Mina. Always bubbly, always upbeat, always just a little bit too sweet when it came to Eijirou. You had always noticed the way she looked at him, the way she smiled whenever his name came up, the way her voice would soften in his presence. It had never bothered you—at least, not too much. After all, you knew Mina wasn’t the type to make moves on someone who was already in a relationship, especially with the way she valued friendship. You convinced yourself that it was all harmless.

But then today, the conversation that had been brewing under the surface came rushing at you like a wave you were unprepared for. You didn’t expect it, not in the slightest.

You were sitting with her in the common area, chatting about random things as you often did, when it happened. Mina’s eyes lit up, a glint of something mischievous in them as she leaned in closer, almost conspiratorially.

"You know," she began, her voice light and teasing, "I think I’ve finally figured out why Eijirou is always so happy."

You blinked, unsure where this was going.

"Why’s that?" you asked, a small laugh escaping you, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in your chest.

"Because he’s so perfect, y'know?" She grinned widely, her words laced with admiration. "I mean, just look at him—he’s so strong, so sweet, and did you see his muscles after that last battle? Ugh, I can’t imagine being with someone like him. He’d just sweep me off my feet."

Your heart drops, the smile on your face faltering, though you try to hide it.

You nod, forcing yourself to laugh. "Yeah, he's great. I mean, who wouldn’t be happy to be around him?"

You try to brush it off, but it feels like she’s digging into the place inside you that’s always been tender—the place where all of your insecurities hide. She’s not just talking about him like a friend; she’s talking about him like someone who wishes they were with him, who sees him as something more than the big, goofy guy you love. It’s not like you didn’t already know, but hearing her say it so openly, so enthusiastically, makes it real in a way it wasn’t before.

You force yourself to smile, to nod, but you can feel the sting of jealousy rising, and it burns. What if she does want him? What if she’s just too polite to say anything?

Before you can think any more about it, the conversation shifts, and the tension in your chest doesn’t ease—if anything, it tightens. You try to push it to the back of your mind, but it doesn’t leave.

Later that evening, after a big victory—one that had the team hyped up and the atmosphere electric—you were there, cheering on your classmates, feeling proud of how far you’ve come. You should’ve been happy. You should’ve been celebrating. But when you turned and saw it—Eijirou and Mina standing together, her hand lightly resting on his arm as they laughed, and then the kiss.

It wasn’t a long kiss, not by any means, but it was a kiss. A kiss that lingered, full of affection, full of something you couldn’t define. The crowd cheered, and you stood frozen, the rush of heat flooding your body. Your heart was in your throat, and you could barely breathe. The camera flashes were blinding, the noise of the crowd felt deafening, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heart cracking. The image of them—together, so close—burned itself into your mind.

And you didn’t know what to do.

You couldn’t stay there, not with your emotions threatening to overtake you. You slipped away, as quietly as you could, trying not to draw attention, but you could already feel it—the weight of the world crashing down on you. You couldn’t escape it.

You just needed to be alone.

You didn’t answer any calls from Eijirou, even when his name flashed across your screen. You couldn’t face him—not now. Not after seeing that. Not after hearing Mina’s words and feeling so stupid for thinking you were the one he cared about.

So, you curled up in your bed, under the covers, hiding from the world, hoping it would just stop spinning for a moment. Maybe, if you closed your eyes, you could forget about the kiss. Forget about Mina. Forget about how small you felt, how insignificant you felt, knowing that someone like Eijirou, someone so amazing, could be kissed by someone like her.

But then, the phone buzzes again.

It’s a picture.

A picture of you and Eijirou, laughing, your body pressed against his, his arm wrapped protectively around you. The caption reads: "Finally letting the world know—she’s been mine for years."

And that’s when it all comes crashing down.

You stare at the screen, your mind going blank. Your heart aches, a dull throb in your chest as the comments flood in.

"She’s so lucky to be with someone like him." "She’s not good enough for him." "She’s too big for him." "She doesn’t deserve him."

Each comment is like a knife, each word cutting deeper, exposing every insecurity you’ve ever had. You can feel the weight of their judgment, their eyes on you, pulling at the fabric of your very existence.

You can’t breathe.

Your hands tremble as you scroll through the hateful messages, and the tears come—hot, stinging tears that blur your vision. You try to ignore them, try to force yourself to look away, but you can’t. They won’t stop. The world is tearing you apart, and you don’t know how to make it stop. You thought you could handle it. You thought you could keep your secret relationship safe from the world, but now it’s out in the open, and it’s not safe anymore.

You don’t answer Eijirou when he calls again. You can’t. Not when you know what’s coming.

The weight of his attempt to fix it—posting that picture, making everything public—only makes it worse. His fans tear into you, calling you names, questioning your worth, asking how someone like you could possibly be with someone like him.

You curl deeper into the bed, the world outside fading into a blur of pain and self-loathing. You want to disappear. You want to shut it all out, to bury yourself in the covers and never face the world again. But even in your hiding, you know this isn’t something that can be fixed so easily.

You love him. You know that. But this… this is too much.

And still, you can’t bring yourself to answer the calls. You can’t face the one person who should be there for you through all of this. Because how could he understand? How could he possibly know what it feels like to be torn apart in front of the entire world, to have every insecurity laid bare and picked apart by strangers?

You don’t know how to make it stop. You don’t know how to fix this.

But you also don’t know how to stop loving him.

[rootedinrevisions]

Religiously

Summary: Jake’s world is turned upside down when he learns that the woman he once loved is getting married to someone else. Struggling with the weight of his past mistakes and the emotional fallout of their breakup, Jake is deployed on a mission that nearly costs him his life. What happens when he returns home to recover from his injuries and comes face to face with her?

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (No Use of Y/n)

Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Religious References, Violence related to military action and combat, Combat Related Injury, Mentions of near death experiences, Discussions of emotional and physical pain, PTSD like themes, Possible triggers related to medical and emergency situations.

Word Count: 6,664

A/N: So it's been a little bit since I posted anything. But here is a little something I've been working on for a few days. Hope you guys enjoy xx

**Flashbacks ared indicated by italics**

Jake shifted the phone to his other ear, stretching his legs out on the hard, thin standard issue mattress that the Navy offered in the barracks. The air conditioning unit rattled in the background, barely cutting through the Southern California heat.

It was late, and he was tired. But he knew he couldn’t miss his usual Sunday night call with his mom. No matter where the Navy sent him, Mama Seresin always expected him to check in.

“Your dad finally fixed the fence,” his mom was saying. “After I reminded him for the hundredth time.”

Jake smirked, rubbing a hand over his face. “Took him long enough.”

“That’s what I said, honey! But you know how he is. Stubborn as a mule.”

“Guess I know where I get it from, then.”

His mom scoffed. “Oh honey, that’s all from your daddy’s side.”

Jake chuckled, the familiar back and forth easing some of the tension in his chest. These calls were a tether to home. Something steady in a life that seemed to never stop moving.

But then his mom’s tone shifted, just slightly. “Oh, did you see the picture of the paper? Your sister said she was going to send it to you.”

Jake frowned. “What paper?”

“The Gazette. They had an engagement announcement in last week’s edition.”

He didn’t think much of it at first, just let her words settle in the background as he reached for the beer on the nightstand. 

And then she said your name. 

Jake’s fingers froze around the bottle. His heart punched once, hard, against his ribs.

“She’s getting married next month. Can you believe it?”

His throat suddenly felt tight and dry. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Big wedding from what I hear. Out at that fancy vineyard in Hill Country. Her mama must be over the moon.”

Jake could only nod, even though she couldn’t see him.

You. Married.

He should’ve expected it. It had been years since he’d last seen you, since he’d walked away and let you go. But still, something about it didn’t sit right.

“Anyway, I always thought you two would end up together,” his mom added casually. Like she hadn’t just knocked the wind out of him. “Guess life had other plans.”

Jake let out a breath through his nose, gripping the bottle tighter. “Yeah. Guess so.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy with everything he didn’t say.

“Jake?” His mom’s voice softened. “You okay, sweetie?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure, honey?” his mom pressed. “You sound—”

“I’m good, Ma,” he cut in, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He ran a hand over his face. “Just tired. Long day.”

His mom didn’t push, but he could hear the doubt in the way she sighed. “Alright, well, get some rest. And call me next Sunday, you hear?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

The call ended with a soft click, but the silence it left behind was anything but peaceful.

Jake let the phone rest against his chest for a second, staring up at the ceiling. The AC hummed steady but weak, barely making a dent in the sticky air.

He shut his eyes. Tried to push the thought of you out of his head. Tried to forget the way your name had felt like a punch to the ribs. Tried not to picture you in a white dress, smiling at some other man.

Jake sat up abruptly, cursing under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair, restless. His pulse was too loud, his thoughts running too fast.

He told himself to leave it alone. To let it go, the way he had years ago.

But his fingers moved before he could stop them, unlocking his phone and pulling up his photos. He scrolled fast, past images of deployments, blurry bar nights, old squadmates. 

Until he sees it. A picture of you.

The two of you, tangled together on the dock that summer. Your legs draped over his, your head tipped back in laughter. The setting sun had turned your skin golden, your hair wind-tousled and perfect. He remembered the exact moment he took the photo.

“You’re staring,” you’d teased, nudging his arm.

“Maybe,” he’d admitted, grinning. “Can you blame me?”

Jake swallowed hard. His thumb hovered over the screen. He should put the phone down. Delete the photos. Move on.

But instead, his mind pulled him under. Back to that summer. Back to you. Back to the moment everything changed.

Jake kept scrolling. Past the dock. Past the bonfires. Past the blurry, stolen moments that still felt too sharp.

And then he stopped. The picture filled his screen, pulling the air straight from his lungs.

You, standing in the middle of the river, the water lapping at your thighs. Your arms stretched out, face tipped to the sun, eyes closed like you could soak in the warmth forever. That stupid blue swimsuit he used to tease you about, the one you insisted was your favorite.

He could still hear your laugh from that day.

Could still feel the moment everything changed.

“You coming in, or what?” you called, twisting toward him, your hair dripping down your back.

Jake sat on the riverbank, forearms resting on his knees, watching you wade deeper into the water. “I don’t know. You sure it’s not freezing?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s Texas in July, dumbass.”

Still he didn’t move. Just sat there, watching the sunlight catch in your hair, the way the water curved around your legs.

You sighed, dramatically, and turned to face him fully. “Okay, fine. I’ll come to you.”

Before he could react, you lunged forward, hands cutting through the water, sending a wave straight at him.

“Damn it—”

It was too late. Cold water splashed over his legs, soaking the edge of his shorts.

Your laugh was loud and reckless. “Guess it’s not that cold, huh?”

Jake shot to his feet. “Oh, you’re real funny.”

“I try,” you quipped, grinning as you stepped back, deeper into the river. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

He didn’t think—just moved. Sprinting forward, he hit the water fast, the shock of it stealing his breath, but he didn’t stop. You yelped, spinning to escape, but he caught you easily, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Jake. Don’t you dare—”

Too late.

He lifted you effortlessly, slinging you over his shoulder before spinning in a circle. You shrieked, kicking your legs, but he only laughed.

“Apologize,” he teased, tightening his grip.

“Never.”

“Suit yourself.”

And then he dropped you. You disappeared beneath the surface, the splash soaking him completely. He barely had a second to gloat before you popped up, hair plastered to your face, eyes blazing with mock outrage.

“Oh, it’s on,” you warned.

Before he could react, you launched yourself at him, pushing him under.

He surfaced a second later, shaking water from his face, only to find you already laughing.

You looked happy. You always looked happy, but today there was something different about it. About you.

Jake’s breath caught, something unfamiliar curling in his chest. He wanted to keep you like this. Wanted to see you like this every damn day.

And that’s when it hit him. Like a punch to the ribs.

He was falling for you. Maybe he already had.

Jake blinked, the memory dissolving like mist.

His chest ached, his grip tightening around the phone.

He should’ve told you. He should’ve said those three little words that summer.

But he never did. And now? Now you were marrying someone else.

Jake exhaled sharply and closed out of his photo album. Before he could think better of it, his fingers moved on instinct, opening his social media app and typing your name into the search bar.

The first picture hit him like a gut punch.

You standing in front of a wall of pastel balloons, champagne glass in hand. The caption read Bride to Be in swirly gold script, matching the sash draped over your shoulder. Someone had tagged you in the post a few weeks ago

Jake swallowed hard, his eyes dragging over the details.

The white dress clung to you in all the right ways. Your hair was curled soft around your face, your smile wide and effortless.

You looked happy. Really happy.

The sight of it made him sick.

His stomach twisted as he swiped through more photos. You, laughing with friends. You cutting into a cake shaped like a wedding dress. You leaning into your fiancé..

Jake’s jaw locked at the sight of the guy.

He looked…fine. Some clean cut, polished type. A little too put together. A little too perfect.

Your smiles with your fiance were poised and practiced. Pretty but forced. The kind of smile you put on when you knew a camera was on you. It was the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Jake scrolled back to one of your old pictures together. A blurry shot from a summer night. You were sitting beside him on the tailgate of his truck. Your head was thrown back in laughter. No perfect angles. No careful posing. Just you, caught mid laugh, so lost in the moment you didn’t care about the camera.

And maybe Jake was just torturing himself, but he swore you looked happier then. Happier with him.

He scrolled back up, staring at the image of you in white at the bridal shower. Maybe you smiled like that now. Maybe you convinced yourself this was what you wanted.

Jake exhaled sharply and shut off his phone, dropping it onto the bed beside him like it burned. But the image of you in white was already seared into his mind.

Marriage. It was what you always wanted. Hell, he wanted it too…just not as soon as you. He told himself he wasn’t ready. That he needed more time, that he had things to figure out, that forever could wait a little longer.

But you weren’t willing to wait for him to decide that he was ready. And now time was up.

His jaw clenched. He ran a hand over his face, dragging it down to his mouth as if that could stop the ache clawing at his chest.

He should be over this by now. You were.

He stared at the ceiling, willing himself not to care.

It had been a couple of years. He’d had his share of short lived relationships, other break ups. He went through the motions. First dates, good mornings, empty conversations that never quite filled the space you left behind. Some hurt for a while, some didn’t even register, most faded into nothing more than a name or a fleeting memory.

But yours? That breakup was different. It wasn’t just another failed relationship. Yours was the one that gutted him. The one that still sat heavy in his chest, refusing to be buried no matter how much time passed.

It was the only one that still got to him. He could barely remember the details of his other breakups. Who ended things first, the reasons why, the words exchanged. They were all just echoes of something that was never meant to last.

But you? He remembered everything.

"I love you, Jake. I love you so much, but I can’t keep waiting for you to decide if you want this...if you want me."

Your eyes had been glassy, your hands clenched into fists at your sides like you were holding yourself together by sheer will alone. He’d stood there, jaw tight, arms crossed, refusing to let himself break. Refusing to admit he was terrified.

"It’s not that simple," he had said, voice rough, exhausted from the same argument you’d been having for weeks.

"It is for me," you whispered, voice cracking. "I want a life with you. A future. A family. But if you don’t know if you want that with me, then I—" You sucked in a sharp breath. "Then I can’t do this anymore."

The way your fingers trembled as you slipped the key to his place onto the counter nearly undid him. It was such a small movement, so quiet, but it hit like a gunshot. Final. Permanent.

Even then, even when you turned to go, he could have stopped you. He could have said Wait. I love you. I want this. I want you. But his own stubborn silence kept him frozen, hands fisting at his sides as he watched you walk to the door.

And everything in him screamed that he should run after you.

But he didn’t. And that was the moment he lost you.

And now, years later, the weight of losing you hadn’t lessened. If anything, it pressed down harder, knowing you’d moved on while he was still stuck here trying to pretend he wasn’t.

Jake’s thumb hovered over the screen as he scrolled, then stopped. A picture of you with a guitar.

You were sitting on a blanket in the grass, laughing at something just outside the frame, fingers curled around the neck of the instrument like it was second nature. The sight of it pulled at something deep in his chest. And just like that, he was back there.

Back on your front porch that summer night.

The cicadas hummed in the background, a lazy breeze rolling through, carrying the scent of honeysuckle and warm earth. You sat cross legged on the old wooden swing, your guitar balanced on your lap, the porch light casting a soft glow over your face.

"Come on, Jake," you teased, strumming a few easy chords. "You know this one."

He grinned, leaning against the railing with a beer dangling from his fingers. "I know it, but I’m not singing it."

"Fine," you huffed dramatically, but there was a smile playing on your lips. "Guess I’ll just have to sing it for both of us."

Your voice, soft and sweet, wrapped around the melody, carrying the words into the warm night air. And Jake just watched you. The way your fingers danced effortlessly over the strings. The way your nose scrunched slightly when you hit the higher notes. The way your eyes flicked up to meet his like you were singing just for him.

And that was the moment.

That was the moment he knew, or at least thought he knew, that he was going to marry you.

It hit him so fast, so unexpectedly, that it nearly knocked the breath out of him. He’d never believed in fate or soulmates or any of that, but sitting there, listening to you play your song under the Texas sky, he’d never been so sure of anything in his life.

But that was a lifetime ago.

And now, that life the one he thought he’d have with you, belonged to someone else.

Tomorrow he was leaving for deployment. Another stretch of time spent oceans away, filling his days with routine and responsibility. Pushing everything else, everything going on in his personal life to the back of his mind. 

That was usually the easy part. But this time?

This time, he wished you were here. He wished you were the one standing by giving him that last lingering hug before he boarded the plane. The one pressing a kiss to his lips and telling him to stay safe, to come home in one piece. You used to say it with a teasing smile, but he knew you meant it with every part of you.

And if he was being honest with himself, if he let himself sink into that dangerous, aching place in his chest, he wished you’d be the one waiting for him when he came home too. 

But he knew better than that. By the time he came back, you’d be someone else’s. You’d moved on. You’d found what you needed with someone who didn’t keep you waiting for him to be ready.

And tomorrow, as he stood on the tarmac, duffel slung over his shoulder, staring out at the horizon before takeoff…he’d have to find a way to make peace with that.

* * * * *

The days leading up to the mission had felt like any other. Straightforward. Jake had been briefed, run the practice drills. He knew the routine, knew the threats, knew the risks. But he wasn’t worried. He’d been through this before. He was trained for moments like this. His crew made up of Phoenix and Bob had his back, and he trusted them.

It wasn’t a difficult mission. Two planes. Simple intel. Minor threat from enemy aircraft, but it wasn’t a serious risk. That’s what they had been told, and Jake believed it.

They took off that morning, the cool January air crisp as the planes cut through it. Jake was leading, flying in formation with Phoenix and Bob close behind. The adrenaline buzzed in his veins, but he kept it steady. They had their plan, and nothing was going to go wrong. Or so he thought.

The radio crackled in his ear, Phoenix's voice cutting through the static. "Enemy aircraft, five o’clock!"

Jake didn’t see them. Not at first. Everything was too smooth, too easy. But as Phoenix and Bob called it out, the world shifted. He glanced over his shoulder just as a shadow broke through the cloud cover.

Before he could react, there was a burst of red hot fire tearing through his right wing. The impact hit like a freight train, and then… everything went wrong. His plane jolted violently, and the warning lights flashed in his cockpit.

"Shit!" Jake muttered under his breath, fighting for control.

His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the sky. Phoenix and Bob were calling over the radio shouting commands, but everything was a blur of panic and noise.

The next thing he knew, the plane was spiraling, falling. And then came the gut wrenching sound of metal meeting the surface as his plane hit the water.

It was cold, too cold.

His body hit the surface with an intensity that felt like concrete.

Pain exploded in his chest, knocking the wind out of him, the world spinning around him as his plane began to sank. He struggled to keep his head above water. The saltwater burned against his skin, but it was the cold that was most unforgiving.

His breath came in shallow gasps. He could barely keep his eyes open. The pain radiated through every nerve in his body, but his thoughts didn’t linger on the physical agony.

All he could think about was you.

Your face, your laugh, the way you smiled at him like you were the only two people in the world. The warmth of your touch when he held you close. The way your eyes sparkled in the light.

God, he missed you.

It didn’t even feel like life anymore. The sun was still shining above, but it was too bright, too distant.

For a moment, Jake wondered if this was what death felt like. If the coldness of the ocean would be the last thing he ever felt.

He was there drifting, and staring up at the sky, each passing second slipping further and further from him. The world was fading. He wasn’t sure if it was the water filling his lungs or the weight of the loss that was dragging him down.

And then, in that haze of fading consciousness, a single thought pierced through the fog.

He would never see you again.

The pain from the crash didn’t compare to the ache in his chest at that thought. The empty, hollow feeling that consumed him, knowing he’d never get another chance to hold you, to tell you he loved you, to fix the mess he made.

His eyes closed again, the memory fading as darkness closed in, but not before he whispered one last time, "I love you."

Jake didn’t know how much time had passed. But suddenly the world around Jake was nothing but noise and shadows, a blur of voices he couldn’t quite make sense of. His body felt like a weight, every inch of him burning with pain, yet somehow, it was as if his mind was disconnected, floating somewhere far away.

He was still in the water. The coldness had a grip on him, sinking into his bones, but now... now there was warmth, a sensation that almost didn’t feel real. He blinked slowly, the light above him flickering, and then it was the sound of helicopters. The deep, reverberating thrum of blades slicing through the sky.

“Lieutenant Seresin!” a voice called, familiar yet distant. “Stay with me.”

He couldn’t focus on who was speaking, but the words reached him, distant echoes that seemed to tug him back from the abyss. 

He heard his call sign then, as if it was the only thing tethering him to the world: “Hangman...Hangman, we’ve got you.”

A sharp pain ran through his body, and he hissed in response. His eyes tried to focus, but the world kept shifting, pulling him further under, as if the ocean itself was calling him back.

“Hang in there, Hangman!” another voice barked, this one more frantic. “We’ve got you. Just hold on.”

But he couldn’t hold on. He couldn’t keep his grip on consciousness. His eyes closed again, darkness threatening to take over.

And in that quiet, fleeting moment before everything faded, one thought echoed in his mind, louder than any of the voices around him, louder than the chopper blades, louder than the pain. 

One name.

Your name.

The sound of your name coming from his lips was barely audible. But the weight of it was everything. It was the only thing his heart could hold onto.

The darkness began to press in around him yet again. But the voices around him wouldn’t let him go.

“Hangman, come on. You’ve got to stay with us.” Someone urged, and Jake could feel the pressure of someone's hands on his chest. He could tell he was being moved. 

But even as he was pulled away from the brink of death, all he could think about was you. And the painful truth that you weren’t there. You weren’t going to be there waiting for him if he woke up.

* * * * *

The steady beeping of a heart monitor was the first thing Jake registered as he drifted back to consciousness. He blinked against the bright overhead light, his vision adjusting to the sterile white walls of a hospital room. His body felt heavy, weighed down by pain and exhaustion, but he was alive.

Alive. The word should’ve meant something. Should’ve felt like a victory. But all he felt was numb.

He didn’t know how long he lay there staring at the ceiling, letting the reality of everything settle in. The mission. The hit. The cold. The pain. The fact that he should be dead, but somehow wasn’t.

And you. You had been the last thing on his mind before he hit the water. The last thing before everything faded. 

And now lying here alive when he shouldn’t be, he didn’t know what to do with that.

* * * * *

Jake stepped off the plane, the humid Texas air wrapping around him like an old familiar embrace. The warmth should’ve felt like home, but it didn’t. Not really. Maybe nothing would after everything.

His ribs ached from the long flight, but he ignored it as he grabbed his duffel bag and made his way through the small Austin airport. His mom was waiting for him near baggage claim, standing on her toes to scan the crowd. The second she spotted him, relief softened her face, and she rushed forward, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Jake," she breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "Oh, honey, it's so good to see you."

He gritted his teeth against the pain of her embrace but didn’t pull away. "Good to see you too, Mama."

She held him for a moment longer before stepping back, her hands lingering on his arms like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go. Her eyes scanned his face, taking in the bruises, the exhaustion still clinging to him. "You look tired."

"Yeah, well. Almost dying will do that to a guy."

She swatted his arm lightly. "Don’t joke about that."

He gave her a tired smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Not joking."

Her expression faltered for a second, like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she just squeezed his arm. "Come on. Let’s get you home."

The drive back to the house was quiet, save for the occasional updates from his mom about family, neighbors, the latest town gossip. But Jake wasn’t really listening. He just stared out the window, watching the familiar Texas landscape roll past.

When they pulled into the driveway, his mom turned off the engine but didn’t get out right away. Instead, she looked at him carefully, her hands still gripping the wheel.

"You settling in okay?" she asked.

He frowned. "I just got here."

She nodded slowly, her lips pressing together like she was debating saying something else.

"What?" Jake asked, narrowing his eyes.

His mom hesitated, then gave him a small, knowing smile. "Nothing. Just…I have a feeling you're gonna find your time home a little more interesting than you expected."

Jake���s stomach twisted, but before he could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, she grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car, leaving him sitting there, wondering why the hell she suddenly looked like she knew something he didn’t.

The next morning, the house was quiet. His parents had already left for work, leaving Jake alone with nothing but the old family dog and his own thoughts. He sat on the porch, the Texas sun warming his skin, a coffee cup resting on the arm of the wooden chair beside him.

His ribs still ached with every breath, and even the smallest movements sent sharp reminders through his body. But the worst pain wasn’t physical.

Beau, the aging golden retriever, lay at his feet, tail thumping lazily against the wooden planks as Jake absently scratched behind his ears. The dog was content. Jake wished he could say the same.

He leaned back, closing his eyes, listening to the rustle of the wind through the trees. It was peaceful, but peace didn’t reach him the way it used to. Not with everything in his head. Not with everything in his chest.

Then he heard it. Gravel crunching under tires.

His brows pulled together as he opened his eyes, turning his head toward the driveway. A car he didn’t recognize was pulling in. His stomach tightened, his mind automatically running through the possibilities. Maybe it was a neighbor. Maybe someone looking for his mom or dad.

Then the driver’s side door opened. And you stepped out.

Jake’s entire body went still. For a second, he wondered if the pain meds were making him hallucinate. Because there was no way you were here. No way you were standing in his parents’ driveway, looking exactly the same and somehow completely different all at once.

His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out everything else.

You shut the car door gently, standing there for a beat, like you weren’t sure if you should take another step.

Jake swallowed, but his throat was dry.

You take a slow step forward. Then another. The crunch of your shoes against the gravel is the only sound between you. Beau lifts his head, watching you curiously, but Jake didn’t move. He just watches you come closer, like he isn’t sure if you’re real or if you’ll disappear before you reach him.

And then you stop at the edge of the porch. Close enough that he can see every flicker of hesitation in your eyes. Close enough that he can tell you’re nervous.

Neither of you speak at first. You just look at each other. For a moment, it feels like the whole world holds its breath.

Then you break the silence. "How are you?"

Jake almost lies. The words 'I’m fine' sit on the tip of his tongue, easy and automatic. But when he looks at you—really looks at you—he can’t bring himself to say it.

Instead he exhales, shifts slightly in his seat, and admits, "Everything hurts like hell."

Your lips press together, your gaze flickering down, and for a second, he wonders if he shouldn’t have said that. If maybe you didn’t want to hear the truth.

Then you go quiet. Your fingers fidget at your sides, like you’re debating something.

Jake watches you, waiting. And then, finally, you lift your gaze and say softly, "I was scared when I got the call."

His brow furrows slightly. "What?"

You let out a breath, shifting on your feet. "They…couldn’t get ahold of your mom after the accident. And I guess..." You hesitate. "I guess I was still listed as a contact on your paperwork."

Jake's stomach tightens.

"They called you?" His voice is quieter now.

You nod. "Yeah." A small, almost breathless laugh leaves you, but it isn’t amused. It’s tired. "I was the one who had to tell your mom what happened."

Jake stares at you, something unreadable flickering through his expression.

He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to process the fact that you were the one who got the call. That you were the one who had to break the news to his mother.

And that when it came down to it, you still picked up the phone.

Jake lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he looks away. "Hell, maybe it would’ve been easier if I didn’t make it."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Jake—"

"I’m serious," he mutters, still not meeting your eyes. "Would’ve saved everyone a lot of trouble. You wouldn’t have had to get that call. Wouldn’t have had to show up here now, feeling like you owe me something." He exhales sharply, jaw tight. "Would’ve been easier for you."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Your arms drop from where they’d been crossed over your chest, the weight of his statement sinking deep into your bones.

"You think that?" Your voice is quieter now, but there’s an edge to it. Sharp and laced with something close to anger. "You think it would be easier for me if you were—" 

You can’t even say the word. It makes you sick.

Jake finally looks at you then, and for the first time since you stepped out of your car, he sees it. The hurt in your eyes, the way you’re gripping your hands into fists like you’re trying to hold yourself together.

"God, Jake." You shake your head, blinking hard. "You really think I’d want to live in a world where you don’t exist?"

He swallows, but he doesn’t say anything.

"I don’t care what happened between us. I don’t care how much time has passed." Your voice wavers, but you push through it. "I would never, never be okay with losing you."

Jake looks away again, his throat tight, his chest heavier than it already was. He wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t expecting you to still feel anything close to this strongly.

Jake clears his throat, shifting on the porch steps. He winces as the movement sends a sharp pain through his ribs. The weight of your words still lingers in the air between you, heavy and unspoken. He doesn’t know what to say or how to navigate this. So he reaches for the one thing that’s been at the forefront of his mind since you pulled into his driveway.

"So, uh...the wedding." His voice is rough, uncertain. "It’s soon, right?"

You let out a dry scoff, shaking your head. "Not anymore."

Jake frowns confused. "What do you mean?"

You cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. There’s a moment of hesitation before you say it out loud. "I called it off."

The words hit him harder than they should. His fingers flex against his thigh, his pulse kicking up just slightly. He searches your face, trying to piece it together.

"Why?" he asks, voice quieter now.

You let out a breath, looking down at the ground. "Because it wasn’t right."

Jake watches you carefully. "Did he do something?" There’s an edge to his tone now,something protective, almost territorial, that he doesn’t even mean to let slip.

You shake your head. "No. He was...he is a good man." You look up then, meeting Jake’s gaze, and there’s something unreadable in your expression. "But he wasn’t you."

Jake just stares at you, completely floored. His mind races, trying to process what you just said. You still love him. After everything. After the years apart, the breakup, the almost marriage to someone else…you still love him.

Jake watches you, waiting, hoping, praying that this isn’t just some cruel dream that he's going to wake up from. 

But then you take a shaky breath, and your eyes drop to the wooden porch beneath your feet. "Something happened when I got the call," you admit quietly.

Jake tenses, his stomach twisting. "What do you mean?"

You shift, wrapping your arms around yourself like you’re bracing for something. "I was with him. My fiancé." You hesitate, voice barely above a whisper. "We were at our bachelor and bachelorette party."

Jake sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw clenching. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as you force yourself to meet his gaze again.

"My phone rang. I saw the number, and I just…I knew it was about you." You let out a small, bitter laugh, shaking your head. "He asked me not to answer. Told me that whatever it was, it could wait. But I couldn’t do it, Jake. I couldn’t ignore it. Not when I knew it was about you. I knew that the Navy would only be calling for one thing. And that I needed to know if something had happened."

Jake’s chest tightens, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"That was the moment I knew," you whisper. "I couldn’t marry him. Because no matter how much I wanted to move on, no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I had—" You trail off, exhaling shakily. "I don't think I ever did."

Jake’s breath catches. His entire body aches, but nothing compares to the way his heart clenches at your words.

"Then let me be yours again." His voice is rough, pleading, desperate. "Please."

You stare at him, eyes wide, like you weren’t expecting him to say it. To fight for this.

Jake leans forward, wincing slightly from the pain still radiating through his ribs, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’re standing in front of him, looking at him like that, like part of you is still afraid to believe this is real.

"I lost you once," he says, voice raw. "And it damn near broke me. I’m not making that mistake again."

Your breath shudders as you exhale, and for a moment, neither of you speak. The air between you is thick with everything unsaid, years of heartbreak and longing hanging in the balance.

"Jake—" You hesitate, pressing your lips together like you’re trying to stop yourself from saying something you’ll regret. "I don’t know how to do this again."

"Then we figure it out together." His voice is steady this time, sure.

"I was so scared," you whisper, shaking your head. "When they called me, when I had to tell your mom-" You break off, inhaling sharply. "Jake, I thought—"

He doesn’t let you finish. He reaches out, his hand covering yours where it’s clenched into a fist against your side. Your fingers tremble under his touch but don’t pull away.

"I’m here," he murmurs, squeezing gently. "And I don’t want to waste any more time pretending like this doesn’t still mean something."

Your eyes search his, and he sees the war inside you, the part that’s still afraid to let him back in. But then, slowly, your fingers uncurl. You turn your hand over, letting your palm press against his.

"Okay," you whisper.

Jake exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, relief crashing over him.

"Okay," he echoes, squeezing your hand one more time before pulling you down onto the porch beside him.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. There's only the sound of the wind and the soft rustle of the trees around you. Then, without a word, Jake pulls you into his arms, his hold tight but gentle, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

You bury your face in his chest, the familiar scent of him grounding you in this moment, in a feeling you thought you lost. His arms tighten around you, and for the first time in a long time, you both breathe.

It’s like the world slows down, and in each other's arms, the years, the mistakes, the heartache fade into nothingness. There’s no need for words, no need for anything else. Just the comfort of being together again.

* * * * *

A few days later, things are still a bit new between you and Jake, but it feels right. You're taking it slow, giving each other the space to rediscover what you once had. Things are easier now, the awkwardness slowly slipping away as the days pass. Jake is at your place sitting on the couch while you make coffee in the kitchen. There’s a comfortable quiet between you, no pressure, just the two of you spending time together.

When you come back into the living room, he’s standing by the corner of the room, his fingers lightly brushing over the strings of your old guitar that’s resting in the corner.

"You still play?" he asks, his voice soft, almost like he’s unsure of how to approach it.

You give him a playful shrug, leaning against the doorframe. "Sometimes. Not as much as I used to."

Jake tilts his head, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "You take requests?" he teases, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You chuckle, the familiar feeling of teasing him making something warm stir inside you. "You think you’re funny, huh?" 

You walk over, picking up the guitar, and sit down on the couch, strumming a few chords to warm up your fingers.

"What's your request?"

"Our song," Jake says, sitting down beside you, the familiar weight of his gaze on you.

Your heart skips at the words. You start to play, the chords coming back to you like second nature, the rhythm flowing through you like a memory you never quite forgot. The song, the one that’s always been yours and Jake's song, fills the space between you. And with every note you can feel something stirring again.

By the time you reach the last line of the song, your fingers move with a gentle certainty. It feels like this is the way it was always meant to be. The two of you here in this moment, coming back to what you never should have left behind.

When the last chord fades, Jake’s hand finds yours, his fingers gently curling around yours. He looks at you for a beat, and then without a word he leans in.

The kiss is slow, sweet, and soft, like everything that’s been building between you has finally found its way out. It’s not rushed, not desperate, but full of all the things you’ve both been holding back for too long. When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and you can’t help but smile.

"I missed this," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

"Me too," you say, heart full, the world around you fading away until there’s only Jake, and you, and the love you’re starting to believe in again.

[nanamimizz]

tags: 18+ minors dni / fem reader / reader is drunk / hair that can be touched / m!receiving oral / deepthroating / cum swallowing / nipple play / mild exhibition / - let me know if i missed something.

author's note: this was not meant to be 2k. 🚬

It’s a party - Luffy got into one of his moods, the ones where he doesn’t care about what anyone else thinks and just does whatever he wants. And tonight he wanted a party with plenty of food and juice and music. Brook has been on overtime, clearing enjoying himself on the stage has he plays is guitar for the party goers. Everyone is doing something, and Zoro can see all of it from his corner of the ship. It’s a bit secluded, a little quieter than anywhere on the ship and he leans against the railing with plenty of sake to curb his wanting. From his corner he can see Sanji impressing people with his skills and Franky dancing with Chopper, Usopp regaling people of the town with stories of their adventures and Luffy among them laughing. As his lone dark eyes goes to search for the girls - Nami, Robin and you his ears pick up on some giggling.

Speak of the devil.

Robin as usual is the most composed, not a trace of pink on her warm skin as she smiles at him. You and Nami however, are more than a little drunk. Nami is red in the face and wobbles in her heels as she giggles against your head. As he brings his eyes to you, Zoro can’t help but sigh. You are by far the drunkest - flushed down to your chest and you had taken off your shoes as they hang in your fingers. Clearly Nami had dressed you for the night, a short muted cream color dress hugged at your figure and your hair was curled. He tries not to look too closely at you given your state but you normally don’t show a lot of skin day to day. It proves to be a bit of a test for the swordsmen, and it only gets harder when Robin says she’s leaving you with him.

“It’s only natural, you two do have that sort of relationship,” she raised a thin and dark brow at him - she’s teasing Zoro acknowledges with a grumble. “Who else could I leave her with in this state? Sanji?”

She laughs at the way the swordsman’s face darkens at the thought - easing him with a wave of her hand and telling him she merely jests. He takes her from you, and Robin merely smiles at the faint blush on his tan face at how he gently holds you to his side, your head on his chest as you lean on him with your eyes shut. When you were moving your face had grown tense, dizzy from the lack of balance due to amount of alcohol you had consumed prior. But now that you are in his hold you relax, sighing and nuzzling into his green coat and mumbling quietly - though his name comes out tumbling from your glossed lips once or twin. His hand rubs at your back, holding you close as he calls out to Robin to learn what it is that happened to get you like this.

“You can blame our navigator for this mess.” She laughs, adjusting her grip on Nami who had started to squirm. “One of the ladies in town started a drinking contest, stating that she’d mark down booze for the party if Nami had won. You know how she is when a deal is involved. When she couldn’t keep up she tagged in our second little doctor - and you know how she is when someone asks for help.” Robin recounted the story with unquestionable fondness as she turned to take Nami to the girls room on the ship. Zoro only nodded, feeling a twinge of annoyance in his stomach at you being dragged into a mess so stupid as a drinking contest by your goody two shoes nature. He understands you want to help your friends, but you don’t even drink enough to have any semblance of tolerance like the others do.

When Robin is out of view, he looks down at you with a stern look on his face only for it to soften when he sees how you nuzzle into his coat, a smile on your pretty face. You sigh his name, all soft and lovesick and you wrap your arms around his wide torso.

“Whats the matter with you, huh?” He asks, his voice softer than he usually talks and Zoro tries not to look too far down the front of your dress with you pressing up against him(he can perfectly see how your tits are pushed together by whatever bra Nami told you to wear with this dress). You hum, opening your eyes lined with a pretty shimmer to murmur to him,

“I missed you.” He huffs through his nose.

“You’ve seen me all day.” Your hand pushes away the flap of his coat to gain access to his bare skin, your finger traces the long but thin scar across his chest with things he’s always felt unworthy of. Affection, adoration as you look up at him now with a coquettish flutter of your lashes as you undo to the red tie around his waist and pop open his coat.

“Not that kind of missing you.” You confess, voice earnest and wanting. Through his thick head he picks up on the breathlessness of your voice and the heat in your eyes. He is quick to shake his head at you.

“You’re drunk - “ he starts only to freeze when you start to kiss at his chest. Goosebumps and a small smattering of pink begins to dust over his skin. Your fingers begin to skirt down the the green haramaki he wears. The stoic man before can help but shiver at your gentle touch. Your lips leave behind marks of sticky berry pink, and Zoro hisses at the faint marks you leave as you let your teeth nip at his taunt skin.

“You don’t have to touch me,” you murmur as your hands pull down the green fabric until it’s down his legs. Your fingers still at the waist band of his pants, ring finger gently pressing against the button of his pants. “But I want to touch you - please?”

What you know is that Zoro will indulge you - weak to the sparking heat in your eyes and the pout on your colored lips. What you don’t know is how Zoro is thinking about all the ways he is going to punish himself through vigorous training for being so weak willed, being easily tempted by you and the flutter of your eyelashes. What the hell did he train for if he can be so easily dismantled by a request he normally wouldn’t even indulge?

But it’s different, he realizes as he sees how you smile, drunk on something else that isn’t drink. It’s you who’s asking, and Zoro knows with flushed cheeks that you are his one and only weakness. Before booze, or fame, or fear of failing - you bring out the weak and frail earthly desires that rest in his flesh. It’s how you got him like this, his back to the wooden wall with you on your knees, eager and wanting. You undo the button of his pants, eyes focused on the half-hard print of his cock against his last layer as you keep your gaze on his face. Zoro does not believe in any gods, he has never had to pray to the heavens for anything but there must be something divine with how good you look like this.

Your dress riding up so he can see almost the whole of your thighs, the skin soft and plush, utterly inviting. Utterly ruining. The warm sea breeze dances over his cock but it’s nothing to compared to the heat of your mouth as you press a kiss to the head, staining it with your lipstick. You must feel him shiver, and you open your eyes and it’s humiliating that you can have more clarity in this situation than he does - you ask if he’s alright, and press another kiss to his cock this time to the shaft and Zoro feels like he’s going to die.

One tan, large, calloused hand with a square palm and long fingers goes to your head. His fingers lace through your hair, thumb rubbing against your hair to feel it’s silkiness in a brief moment of affection. Zoro is guiding your head to take his cock, you realize with a shuddering gasp and a dimness taking over your eyes. It’s head pops into your mouth and you don’t see how tightly he has to clench his fist - so tightly that his bones creak in his skin at how perfect your mouth in around the most sensitive part of his cock. You moan around the salt of his precum and you hear him curse.

“Fuck.” Deep from within his chest and voice cracking at the last syllable as he groans, gray eye shutting in pleasure when you moan around him in your mouth. Your head bobs, greedy with some sick desire to both please and torment him. To break him and to piece him back together. He’s so handsome like this, you watch his throat bob and sweat run down the vein of his neck as his grip in your hair tightens. It makes you clench, how hard Zoro tries to be honorable - to not use you for his pleasure when you are so very willing to be used by a man like him. Strong in character and body, handsome with a scarred face and strong jaw. You’ve loved him for a long time, and will love him for longer which is why you don’t mind being like this ; ruled by the headiness in between your legs as you swallow around him just feel him shudder and groan above you.

You’re more than half way around him, you can feel his cock twitch against your tongue and you hum - utterly pleased with yourself as darker green hairs tickle your nose. Turning your head and sucking hard on his length that’s pressing down your throat. You can’t yourself you think, thoughts and needs jumbled into one messy pounding between your legs. With your head moving to fuck his cock, your hands come down to the top of your dress, going into the fabric to push out your tits. The sit pretty in your palms, nipples being tweaked at by your thumbs to make you whine around the thickness of his cock.

“Damn.” Zoro sighs, pushing your head gently in a rhythm that isn’t too harsh on your throat - a gentle back and forth, a little faster than what you were doing. It’s comfortable like this for you, letting your mind simply go blank and play with your nipples that are hard and sensitive from your constant tweaking.

“You needed this bad, huh?” His deep voice comes from above you, eye transfixed on how easily you reveal yourself to him, your eyes lidded and thighs pressing against to each other to ease some of the wanting you must be feeling. That your cunt is feeling - hot and wet and soft. The thought of it makes him lick his lips, and his starts moving your head for you. Faster than before.

When you whine he only scoffs, voice deep and gruffer than ever - “Come on, finish up your fun so I can take care of you. Don’t make me wait.”

Something about his tone, demanding and commanding makes you moan around his length as you take it the deepest you have all night, swallowing around it so greedily you don’t realize that his cock twitched and swelled in it’s confines until Zoro’s form tenses from above you. It happens so fast he doesn’t even have a chance to pull out - he groans, ragged and broken as his cum spills down your throat.

You swallow it without complaint and it makes him shiver and something competitive blooms in his stomach. As he pulls his cock from your mouth slowly, and sees how it glistens in the lights that were strung up for the party, Zoro decides then and there he will get you back and more for this. The two of you barely have a chance to cover up before he picks you up and takes you to his room. You don’t even have a chance to tease about how hard you made him cum before the door shuts behind you - spelling out your own fate.

[aliwritex]

DO I WANNA KNOW? pt2 fc43

summary: franco realizes he wants more.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: 18+, pinv, oral, fingering and everything, L word obv. i did not read this through very well

Franco was acting different, you knew that, all your friends knew too. The thing was that they knew why but wouldn’t tell you. You tried making your friend talk multiple times but she would budge, you were starting to think it was something bad. Maybe he wanted to end your little arrangement and didn’t know how to, maybe you had done something wrong or maybe he just wasn’t into you anymore.

You started to keep your distance, you didn’t want him to be forced to hang out with you and maybe if you eased out of your situationship then there wouldn’t have to be an actual conversation or ‘breakup’.

And as far as situationships go, you were driving each other insane. All your friends were watching closely, it was funny really. You both thought they didn’t know about you but they had found out the same night when you ended up sleeping in the guest room before he snuck out in the morning. The – not so – subtle questions you’d ask only gave them more insight of what you two had going on. Questions like “Is she seeing someone?” or “do you think he���s been acting weird?” were being thrown and discussed in a group chat without you two.

On one side Franco had just started to feel confident enough in your relationship to confess, tell you that he wanted more. But it was making him nervous. On the other side, you were completely misreading his nervousness as something else, like he wasn’t enjoying being with you. In your defense he had gone soft on you twice because of his overthinking.

“I know we talked about you coming over tomorrow but turns out I have plans” you lied as he came back from the bathroom.

“Oh? Okay.” he tried to understand but didn’t miss the weird way you brought it up “Can I still sleep over, though? Don’t wanna drive back home. Tired”

Franco left the next morning and you didn’t talk that weekend or the week after that. And the next time the group got together you said you couldn’t make it, you would be studying for a test – which was true – but that night Franco took the opportunity to talk to your friend.

“Tina, do you think she has been acting different lately?”

“Oh, god, you will drive each other insane.” she said, taking a sip of her drink “We know you’ve got something going on so please just tell me so I can help”

So there he was, sitting in a booth in the club boring Tina to death as he told her everything he deemed important about your relationship.

“Look,” she spoke when he finished, “from what I’ve gathered, she thinks you’re not into her anymore and to be fair I’m guessing you’re the guy that went soft on her twice.”

“She told you? I was- I don’t have to explain myself to you” he realized.

“Didn’t ask you to. Franco, the point is, I think she’s really into you and you should do something about it because she’s trying to push you away”

“How could she possibly think I’m not into her? I’ve been throwing myself at her for over a year!” he was genuinely surprised and couldn’t understand how you came to that conclusion.

“Then maybe keep doing it, okay? She says you’ve been acting different, I get it that you’re nervous about telling her but you can’t let that affect your performance, darling, apparently that’s all your relationship is based on”

“I hate you. Why would she tell you that?” he whined “She won’t really talk to me, she’s making excuses and avoiding my texts.” his explanation comes out as a sigh.

“Bother her a little more, show up to her house, she’ll give in eventually.” she shrugged, getting up from her seat.

Franco left the club earlier that night and texted you before getting in his car. “you still awake?”

You rolled your eyes at the text, yes you were still awake at one in the morning, but it was because you were busy. “i’m studying franco” “not a good time.”

He only read your text, didn’t say anything else because he was driving. Driving to your place but not without a quick stop to a 24 hour grocery store. He knew that if you had been deep into your studies to be up that late you deserved some good snacks and just as he was leaving he saw some mediocre flowers, they would have to do, so he picked a small colorful bouquet – he didn’t know your favorite color but it was surely amongst them.

He didn’t text or call cause you would tell him no, so he just showed up at your door and knocked. You knew immediately it was him.

“Fran, I said I’m bu-“ your mouth stopped moving when you saw him with a grocery bag and the flowers in his hand. Franco froze, he forgot to think of what to say. “I told you I was busy”

After a couple of seconds – that felt way too long for him – staring at you he finally spoke, “I thought you might be needing some rewards, for studying so hard” he lifted up the bag, showing it to you.

You stood in front of him, your head rested against the door, watching him smile a little when he realized you were wearing his shirt. “Hope you don’t mind”

“No, never. Guess if I forgot it wasn’t that important in the first place.” he paused for a second, still looking at you “I got you these” he lifted the flowers “figured the ones you had last time I was here would be dead by now. I realized I don’t know your favorite color, or what flowers you like, think I was too busy looking at something else other than your flowers. I guessed you had to like at least one flower or one color from this one.”

“Fran, what is this about?”

“I wante- Can I come in?” he asked nervously.

You moved out of the doorway to let him through, smiling to yourself as you realized you were completely wrong. He put the things down on the table by your door as you locked it and when you turned back your arms wrapped around his neck, as you kissed.

His hands came down to your waist and he was slightly surprised at your sudden action, but melted into the kiss. “Missed me?”

“A little” you confessed, pulling away from him and walking to your bedroom.

You heard him follow right behind you, reaching for your hand when you walked in. Your lips met again but this time his hands guide your legs and guide them to wrap around his hips as he walks to the bed. He placed you where he wanted, right in the middle with your back against the pillows, your legs naturally spreading for him to settle between. He knelt up for a second, grabbing the stuffed animals around you and throwing them on the floor. You rolled your eyes.

“You know I don’t like them here”

He smiled and bent down to kiss you. His hands sneaked up your hips to your waist, under your shirt. Yours ran around his neck, nails against the sensitive skin, knowing it would turn him on. His lips lowered to your jaw, making you let out a sigh, relaxing all your muscles after being tense in a desk all day. He let his hips meet yours, grinding slightly against yours as his mouth started working on your neck, sucking and kissing all the spots he knew. His hands then lowered to the band of your shorts and tugged them down till he had to pull away from you to slip them off your legs.

“You look good in my clothes, should leave them around here more often” he smiled, making you blush as he positioned himself between your legs, laying on your bed.

Your hand reached out to caress his cheek, he smiled against the skin of your thigh before kissing it. He started leaving open mouthed kisses all over, your thighs, your lower stomach and over your panties, making you shiver when you felt his lips brushing against your cunt, only your thin underwear separating you. But not for long, once he felt like he had teased you enough his fingers hooked on the sides of your panties and slowly dragged them down, then he was facing your bare cunt, wet and ready for him.

Franco licked his lips at the sight before sticking his tongue out to spread your lips apart. He moaned when your taste hit his tongue, he had missed it. Once he started he was unstoppable, licking into you till his tongue and lips were covered in your wetness. Your hands dropped to grab his head when he took your clit into his mouth. His fingers joined the combo, slowly making their way inside you before gently curling up, he was making a mess out of you. Moans started leaving your mouth as he worked on you. His free hand made its way inside your shirt, reaching up to palm your tit. Your back arched onto his touch immediately, making your hips shift slightly and his fingers reach the perfect spot inside you.

“Fran” you whined, grasping his hair harder.

He just fucked his fingers harder into you, making you see stars and clench around them, By that point he knew you were close, just a couple more thrusts right to your gspot and you’d be gone. You felt your walls tightening as he started sucking harder on your clit, your muscles tensing and your legs trying to close around his head till he pushed you over the edge, making you cum around his fingers. Franco kept working you through your orgasm, his movements slowing till they came to a stop. You were biting a smile back as he kissed your thighs and your stomach, making his way up your body.

Your lips met again in an intense kiss, as you reached down to unbutton his jeans. He chuckled against your lips at your desperateness but helped you kick them off and knelt up for a second just to pull off his shirt. When he bent over your body again you flipped over him, straddling his legs as he looked up at you, surprised. You took his lips back to yours, kissing down his face to his neck as your hand reached down to rub his cock through his underwear. As small as the touch was it made him sigh, almost moan.

“Guess you missed me too” you teased before pulling him out of his underwear.

It was only a few pumps of your hand before raspy and shaky moans were making their way past his lips, “please” he whined.

You took a condom from your nightstand, making quick work of getting it on him. His lips were parted and his brows were just as expressive as always, furrowed together as you guided his cock between your lips, sliding yourself back and forth onto him just to tease. A struggling moan left his lips as his hands dropped to your hips, lifting you up so you could guide him inside. You lost all composure when he slipped into you, it felt like those couple of days without him had been so much more and like he was fucking you for the first time again.

His hands started guiding your hips slowly, letting you both get used to the feeling as you pulled him into another kiss. Your hands rested on his chest as you started moving faster, your hips now moving in circles, making your clit rub against his skin. He could feel your thighs flexing under his hands as you moved but what he couldn’t take his eyes off of was your face when you pulled away. Your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth, soft moans still escaping your throat, your eyes were screwed shut and your brows furrowed as you concentrated on making yourself feel good.

All it took for your high to wash over you was the gentle touch of his fingers to your clit and you were coming for him, clenching around his cock as your hips stilled on top of his. He waited a second before guiding you to move again. You knew he was close too, his body was giving you all the signs and his face was twisted in pleasure, just a little more and he would be there. You reached out for his face, making his eyes open after you kissed. Franco stared into your eyes for a second, eyes open as he came. He kissed your thumb that brushed his lip and spoke in a soft whisper “I’m in love with you”

You smiled, bending over to kiss him “I figured,” you said with a chuckle. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and pulled you down to kiss him, both breaking into smiles as your lips met, “and I’m in love with you too”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer till you were rolling on your sides, still connected and kissing. Franco only pulled out when you groaned into his mouth but he couldn’t bring himself to unwrap his arms around you.

“I bought ice cream, you know” he whispered after a while “do you think it’s melted yet?”

“I think you should go find out” you whispered back “you were the one that said I needed a reward for studying so hard.” he scoffed and nodded on your shoulder but when he tried to pull away you held him back “No, stay. I don’t mind melted ice cream, I actually like it better.”

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hiiiii can you do a dad!Lando where his young daughter gets surrounded by media and interviews and starts stressing out and is saved by Oscar or someone

Thank youuu x

Safe and sound

Lando had always been careful. No, scratch that—he had been downright paranoid when it came to his daughter, Yn. From the moment he held her for the first time, she had become the center of his world. Everything he did, every choice he made, revolved around the little girl with the brightest smile and the sweetest giggle.

It wasn't that he didn't want to share that joy with others—he did. But the world he lived in, the world of Formula 1, was intrusive. The media could be relentless, the fans too curious. And the last thing Lando wanted was for Yn to be exposed to any of it.

His parents had tried to ease his worries.

"She'll be fine, Lando," his mum had reassured him over the phone. "You know how much she loves watching you race."

"And we'll be there the entire time," his dad added. "You need to trust us."

Lando wanted to believe them. But even with their words echoing in his mind, he hesitated. He had seen how wild things could get on a race weekend. Cameras flashing in his face, fans crowding him the moment he stepped into the paddock. Did he really want to bring Yn into that chaos?

Still, his home race felt different. It was supposed to be special. Maybe it was time.

That was how he found himself parking his car outside the paddock entrance, heart pounding as he turned to glance at the backseat. Yn was happily swinging her legs, her little hands clutching the stuffed bunny she never went anywhere without.

"You excited, bub?" Lando asked, his voice softer than usual.

Yn's face lit up with a smile. "I get to see you drive, Daddy!" Her excitement was infectious, and for a moment, Lando's fears eased.

"Yeah, you do." He reached back, brushing a stray curl from her cheek. "Just stick close to me, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy." Yn nodded solemnly, her bright eyes full of trust.

Taking a deep breath, Lando stepped out of the car and circled to her side. The moment he opened the door, the faint hum of the paddock buzzed around them. Before unbuckling her car seat, he positioned himself carefully, using his back to block the view of any wandering cameras.

"Arms up," he instructed, and when Yn lifted her arms, he scooped her into his chest. Her tiny arms wrapped around his neck as he held her close.

The paddock was already busy, the familiar noise of mechanics and engineers mingling with the distant cheers from the grandstands. Lando tried to focus, tried to push down the rising nerves as he walked briskly toward the McLaren garage.

"Daddy, your shoelace," Yn whispered into his ear, her warm breath tickling his neck.

"Shoot," he muttered under his breath. He crouched down, carefully setting her on her feet. "Stay right here, bub. I'm just gonna tie it real quick."

Yn nodded, her bunny clutched tight in her arms. Lando bent down, fingers working quickly on the knot. It only took a few seconds, but when he stood back up, his heart froze.

She was gone.

Panic hit him like a freight train. He spun around, eyes darting in every direction. The bustling crowd blurred as he searched desperately for her small figure.

"Yn?" he called, his voice tight. "Yn!"

The media had already started to gather, recognizing him immediately. Microphones and cameras were shoved in his direction, questions flying at him from every angle. But he barely heard any of it.

Where is she?

---

Yn, meanwhile, had spotted something far more interesting than her daddy's shoelace. A butterfly, pale blue and delicate, fluttered past her nose. Without a second thought, she followed it, her little legs carrying her farther and farther from where Lando had left her.

When the butterfly finally landed on a flower, Yn stopped and giggled softly. She stretched out her hand, hoping it might come closer. But then, realization dawned.

Where was her daddy?

Her chest tightened as she looked around. The sea of unfamiliar faces suddenly felt overwhelming. People walked by, too busy to notice the small girl standing there, frozen in fear.

Then, the cameras came.

"Is that Lando's kid?" one voice whispered excitedly.

Yn flinched as a group of fans nearby spotted her. They approached quickly, phones out, snapping picture after picture. Some girls knelt down, their voices syrupy sweet as they tried to talk to her.

"Hi, sweetie. What's your name?" one asked.

"Is your daddy nice?" another chimed in.

"Does he bring you to the races a lot?"

Yn took a step back, her bunny hugged tight against her chest. Her lip quivered as the questions piled on, too fast, too loud.

"Please..." she whispered, her eyes stinging. She wanted her daddy.

And then, everything changed.

A warm, steady hand slipped around her waist, lifting her effortlessly into the air. Yn's heart pounded in her chest until she opened her eyes and found herself face to face with Oscar.

"Hey," he murmured softly. "Got you."

The relief was immediate. She clung to his shirt, burying her face against his shoulder.

Oscar turned to the fans, his usually calm expression tight with anger. "Don't ever do that again," he said sharply. "She's a kid, not a spectacle."

The fans shrank back, guilt flashing across their faces as he turned on his heel and walked swiftly toward the McLaren garage. Yn's heart gradually slowed, her tears drying as she felt safe again.

"You okay, munchkin?" he asked after a moment.

She nodded against his shoulder.

"Here," he said, pulling his cap off and gently settling it on her head. It was much too big, sliding down over her eyes. When she peeked up at him and giggled, Oscar smiled. "Better?"

"Better," she agreed, adjusting the hat with her little hands.

---

Back at the garage, Lando was losing his mind.

"Where is she?" he demanded, running a hand through his curls. "She was right there, Mum, I swear. I looked away for two seconds—"

"We'll find her," his dad said firmly, though concern lined his face. "Just breathe."

But Lando couldn't breathe. Not until he knew she was safe.

And then, as if the universe answered his prayers, he saw her.

Oscar emerged from the crowd, Yn still nestled securely in his arms, wearing his oversized cap. The moment Lando's eyes landed on her, his knees nearly gave out.

"Yn!" His voice broke as he rushed toward them.

"Daddy!" Yn wriggled free from Oscar's hold the moment they reached him, and Lando caught her instantly, holding her close as if he might never let go again.

"Oh, bub," he whispered, kissing the side of her head over and over. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Yn shook her head, her small hands clutching his shirt. "I got lost, Daddy. But Ossie found me."

Lando's eyes lifted to meet Oscar's, a world of gratitude in his expression. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Oscar shrugged, though there was warmth in his smile. "Anytime, mate. You know that."

Lando held Yn even tighter, pressing his forehead to hers. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again," he promised softly.

Yn, comforted by her daddy's warmth and safety, just giggled quietly. "Okay, Daddy." And in that moment, everything felt right again.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed this story. My requests are always open for you!

-💙🦋

[mangostarjam]

bragging rights: miya osamu's route — haikyuu, street racer!au, osamu x f!reader, suggestive, "darling" as a pet name, part of ignition!verse, 2.2k words

Miya Osamu's car is clean and smells faintly like smoke. The engine rumbles soothingly, a cat's purr, eating up miles with ease.

You can't stop glancing down at his hand — at his strong fingers grasping the gear shift and smoothly sliding it into place. Your mind wanders as the car revs up and down in time with the city lights.

What would those fingers feel like on you, in you, touching you — ?

"You hungry?" Osamu clears his throat, eyes straight ahead. The light changes and your gaze goes to his side profile this time, watching shadows flicker and fade as he guides his car back up to speed.

"I'm thirsty," you confess. Osamu swallows. You watch the bob of his throat. "But I don't drink with strangers."

"Alright," Osamu nods, almost as if to himself. A city billboard reflects pink along his cheek and ear. "If ya had ta choose your last meal, what'll it be?"

"Is this going to be my last meal?" you laugh. Osamu cracks a smile and your heart flutters. Oh, he's handsome. You shift in your seat. "I guess it would be omurice."

The car idles for a moment at a stop sign. Your voice is hushed, respecting the bubble of the car blocking out the sights and sounds of the outside world. Osamu glances over at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Why?"

You shrug. "It's comforting."

"There," Osamu says. You blink. "Not that we're strangers, since ya got in my car an' everythin', but strangers wouldn't know your last meal or the reason for why."

"So now I can drink?" you ask, amused.

"It's just an option for you, if ya wanna," he says, pulling up the parking brake. "Since we're at my favorite izakaya."

Osamu rests his hand lightly against the small of your back as the two of you duck through the sliding door. It takes all of your effort to appreciate the dim lighting, the uproarious patrons, and the smoke and sizzle of grilling meat skewers. He presses forward just a little and your focus snaps, spiraling inward to the hot graze of his touch along your spine.

"C'mon," Osamu says quietly. He has to lean closer to be heard above the chatter, his lips brushing your ear and sending sparks skittering down the nape of your neck. "There's a seat over there."

You let him lead you, but you pause uncertainly before the edge of the booth. There's no way both of you can squeeze in there. "Miya-san…"

"Here," Osamu says. He slides into the spot and tugs you down to perch in his lap, hand resting heavy on your hip to hold you in place.

You freeze as he leans forward to snag a menu from the middle of the shared table, paying no mind to the other patrons except to acknowledge them with a polite nod. His thighs are warm, thick, sturdy. You shift in his lap and his fingers tighten at your waist, just a little bit.

"Miya-san, I can probably just squeeze in here —"

"You can call me anythin' but that," Osamu murmurs, his chest broad and firm against your back. You shiver. "Now what'll ya have?"

"I… I'll have what you're having," you whisper. "But I'll take a cream soda. Non alcoholic, please. I don't usually get into cars with random guys, you know."

Osamu chuckles and you can feel it down your spine. You lean back into him as the cook appears, watching Osamu's side profile as he orders what sounds like half the menu, including your cream soda. Osamu's jaw clenches for a moment as you settle in his lap, but it isn't until you feel something unmistakably hard against your ass that you realize why.

Oh.

The cook shoots you a grin. "And would you like anything, miss? Miya-san never brings dates here, so you must be someone special."

Your face feels hot. "Oh, I'll be sharing with Miya — with… Osamu-san."

Osamu's cock twitches against you. Oh, dear. You clear your throat, trying to ignore the blaze of heat pooling in your gut. The cook gives you a wink and leaves to begin your order, stopping along the way to joke and chat with the other patrons. "Was that alright?" you ask.

"Yeah, darlin', ya did just fine," Osamu's voice is rough. "So what made ya change yer mind?"

You swallow nervously. His face is so close to yours — you can see your own reflection in his eyes, but he makes no move to bridge the meager distance between your lips. "Well, you won the race, so it's only fair that I give you a chance."

"Yeah?" Osamu's lips quirk up in the corner. "It wasn't 'cause ya told our mechanic ya wanted to see what kinda guy drove a car like mine?"

You frown and shift in his lap. Osamu groans, low and shaky, his grip like iron. The sound sends a bolt of lust straight to your gut and you clench your thighs together guiltily. "It's a nice car! And I… might've seen you before."

"Oh? Yeah?"

"Yeah," you confess, watching as his gaze darts down to your lips. "You had a hat on and you were delivering food to the garage. You ran your hand over your car like a…"

"Go ahead, darlin'."

"Like a lover," you sigh. Osamu's throat works as you look up at him through your lashes. "I got curious."

"And now? What do ya think?" He sounds unaffected, but you can feel him, hot and hard through the layers of fabric between you.

"Well, I couldn't stop looking at your fingers while you were driving us here," you admit sheepishly. Osamu huffs a quiet laugh. "And I like that you're feeding me."

"I hope ya like it," he murmurs, flashing an easy grin up at the cook as he returns and sets plates of food on the table. "I might've… asked Aran-kun 'bout ya. He said you've got a good appetite."

"Oh? Yeah?"

Osamu grins at your teasing parroting, reaching forward with his free hand to snag a skewer. "Here, try this."

"You're actually feeding me?" you squeak, but you open your lips obligingly and slide a morsel of tender, marinated chicken off the skewer with your teeth. "Oh my god."

Osamu's hand at your waist slips down to rest on your thigh as he takes the next few pieces off the skewer, gaze heavy on your expression as you chew. It does something strange to you — the careful way he watches you enjoying the meal. The hitch of his chest against yours as you hum happily with every delicious bite. The calloused pads of his fingers scraping along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as you settle further and further against his hot, hard cock.

The meal begins disappearing before you realize it, lost in the dizzy sensations filling your senses. Osamu smirks when you feed him in return halfway through the meal, mumbling something that makes you laugh and coaxing you into easy conversation as you take turns feeding each other.

And with every bite — with every pleased swallow — his hand on your thigh inches higher and higher up your skirt.

You don't realize you're swaying from side to side in a state of food bliss until he clears his throat. You swallow as he shifts beneath you. His ears are bright pink beneath the warm lights, and the look he sends you is hungry.

"Are ya still thirsty?" Osamu asks. Your cream soda is nothing more than an empty glass now, the vivid green dregs at the bottom a mere memory of sweetness and bubbles.

You eye his lips as he wipes with a napkin. There are other things on your mind now — and the way Osamu's eyes darken as he watches you makes you hope you're on the same page.

"I can think of other things I'd like to taste," you say, flashing him a smile.

Osamu huffs fondly, his lips ticking upwards in the corners even as he fights it back. "You're a menace. C'mon, darlin', let me settle the bill and we'll get outta here."

You mourn the loss of his warmth as you stand and step out of the booth, but Osamu rests his hand on the small of your back again and you lean into it as he guides you back to the front.

"Thank you for the meal," you say, beaming at the cook as he pops by the register. Osamu nudges you behind him as he pulls out his wallet to pay, rolling his eyes at your proffered handful of bills. "Osamu-kun, hey — what gives —"

"Nice going, Miya," the cook laughs, "you've graduated from '-san' to '-kun'!"

Osamu laughs along and thanks the cook for the meal, his hand snagging yours as the two of you duck out of the izakaya. Your heart jumps as he tangles your fingers together, offering you a squeeze and a crooked smile as you walk back to his car.

"Ya think by the time I drop you off at home I'll graduate to just 'Samu'?"

Your chest clenches with disappointment. "I might need some more time with you to convince me."

Osamu unlocks his car and hesitates for a second before opening the door for you. At your questioning sound, he squeezes your hand. "If I start kissin' ya now, I'm not gonna stop, and I don't wanna get us arrested."

Your cheeks burn. "Oh."

"I raced for a real chance, y'know." He scratches idly at the side of his neck. "Am I gonna get another even if I ain't much of a gentleman tonight?"

"You're the one who sat me in your lap," you point out.

Osamu looks at you with a sheepish twitch of his lips. "I couldn't help myself. Ya look good enough to eat — and I was feelin' hungry."

"Shut up," you snort, shoving at his chest. He catches your hand and presses it flat against the heavy beat of his heart. You make a funny sound. "Of course you'll get more chances."

"Let me show ya something then."

It ends up being an outlook, nestled into the mountains along the edge of the city, granting you a view that takes your breath away. It's quiet once the rumble of the engine fades, a pause in the stillness until the insects start up their chirps and singing again. Night wraps around the two of you like a thick blanket.

Osamu sets you on the hood of his car with a jacket between you and the cooling metal, but instead of pulling away to admire the view with you he stays between your legs, fingers fussing with the fabric on either side of your thighs.

He's so handsome like this — boyish and unsure and hesitant — even though his broad shoulders fill your vision and he smells like izakaya and smoke. He's not quite looking at you, his head down as he seems to wrestle with something. You sneak a glance at his fingers again, remembering the rough callouses and the gentle way he gripped your thigh earlier.

"You wanted to show me… your roots? Your brother's the one with the bad dye job, but I know someone who can help you guys out."

Osamu laughs, shoulders shaking as his head droops further, until he's practically resting his forehead against your clavicles. Each puff of air against your skin makes you shiver. His hair tickles your cheek.

"I really, really wanna touch you."

"You're already touching me," you point out, breath catching in your throat when he lifts his head to look at you. Close enough to kiss, but again — he doesn't make the move.

"Ya really wanted me to win tonight?"

"Yeah," you can't help squinting at him. "Why? Why won't you kiss me?"

Osamu's brow furrows. "What if 'Tsumu won?"

"You guys were only racing for first dibs on a chance with me, so if your brother won, I would've let him down gently," you say. Oh. "Is this why you've been holding back all night?"

"Haven't been doin' a real good job of it," he flashes you a lopsided smile, somehow self deprecating in a way that makes you frown. "I promise my ma taught me better."

"You've been a perfect date," you say firmly, watching the moonlight pink flush rise in his cheeks, "except for one thing."

"Oh? Yeah?"

"Yeah. Where's my goodnight kiss?"

"What if we get arrested?"

You roll your eyes and drape your arms around his shoulders, dragging him in closer. "Think the crickets and foxes will report us?"

Osamu's eyes glint in the moonlight. "Guess not," he mutters. His gaze lands on your lips and you scratch lightly at his undercut, heat flickering in your ribs as he groans. "Ya swear I'll get more chances after this?"

"Just kiss me, 'Samu."

"Yeah," his lips brush yours, featherlight. Your toes curl in your shoes. "Yeah, that sounds good."

He kisses you again, so carefully you barely feel it. You huff when he pulls away. But before you can voice your protest, he laughs and dips down to kiss you again — harder and deeper, pressing into you until the sounds of the night fade into a blissful haze, until all you can hear is his harsh breathing and your own voice cracking over the syllables of his name — just the way he likes it.

[rikosseen]

Johan Seong x Reader: Subtle acts

Request

The first time you get all up in his vicinity, Johan scowls and swats you away. He thinks it’s a mockery on your part— but really it’s a form of care. A show of love.

Weirdo, he’d cringe internally as you knead the knots away from his traps. Slowly, the stiffness in his body eases and the knitted eyebrows relax. When he feels the absence of your touch, he pouts. Twitches and squirms a little until he regains his composure again.

.

Johan Seong is a prodigy. Someone who excels at mimicking techniques and talents. Although, still a burdened child at heart— and someone who has trouble with buttons and certain pieces of clothing.

As you watch him fumble and mumble curses, you slowly take his hands away from his shirt and work effortlessly to tidy up his collar. He grunts in the beginning, but sits down afterward when you insist on putting on his socks and shoes too.

As you do so, Johan can’t help but feel the room convert to a sauna. His nape is sweaty, as are his palms— and. When had you ever looked so gorgeous? So focused and just— tranquil?

He picks up on the features on your face, and leans in involuntarily. When you look up to acknowledge that you’ve finished, your heads clash and Johan stands up to stomp away, rubbing his sore temple.

.

He sees the flowers outside the shop on clearance. Still tight on money, but the bouquet looks lovely. He wonders if you’d like it, and knows for sure you’d purchase it for him. So he takes out the little cash he has and buys them with you in mind. Maybe he’ll do something for you tonight and cook for a change. He ends up buying some snacks in case you don’t like the flowers.

.

Johan returns home to the sound of vegetables being cut. He’s not happy at this.

“Welcome back,” you smile.

He takes the flowers and gives them to you, kissing you on the shoulders.

Oh?

“Sit.”

You quirk up an eyebrow. Oh????

“I’ll cook,” he states.

This pulls an amused smirk from you and Johan takes the knife in embarrassment.

“You don’t think I’ll do a good job,” he says flatly, pulling his sleeves up. Though, they keep slipping down.

You respond with a laugh and fold them to his elbows, peppering him with soft kisses after you’re done. “I’ll be waiting. Don’t be long.”

He nods in his reddened state and peel the skin of an onion.

This feels nice.

Johan decides that he enjoys doing things for you.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛ… ᴀ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

emotional tension, social anxiety, one-sided attraction?, unresolved tension, self-doubt, slow burn, angst, texting, fluff, coming-of-age, friends to lovers?

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙬𝙤: 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡, 𝘧𝘵. 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘺!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

word count - 700ish

The next day felt strange.

You woke up on Saturday morning with a vague sense of something missing, a curiosity nibbling at you that you couldn’t shake. The party was behind you now, but for some reason, Matt’s presence lingered in your thoughts. You tried to push it aside, telling yourself it was just another random conversation. After all, you’d only talked for a few minutes outside the chaos. It was nothing. But still, there was that flutter in your heart that came whenever someone noticed you, even for the briefest of moments.

Sitting in your room, you grabbed your phone, staring at it for a moment. Matt’s contact, which you had only because of your class’s group chat, felt like an opening. You’d never texted him before, but now, with his number in your contacts…

Should you text him? It wasn’t like you had much to say. It wasn’t like anything you had talked about last night invited it, but still, you wanted to. So desperately, you wanted to relive that moment again, how good you had felt, how easy it had been.

Your finger hovered over the keyboard, erasing and rewriting the message until you finally settled on something simple, something casual:

hey, did u actually read that trilogy u were talking about last night or were u just lying to impress me?

You stared at it, reading it over and over. It wasn’t too forward, right? You’d barely spoken before, but to you, last night had been different. Less of a random encounter and more like... something worth holding onto, even if only for the briefest of moments.

With a deep breath, you hit send.

For a few seconds, you almost regretted it. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it wasn’t even that funny. You threw the phone across the bed, and started putting your laundry away, desperate for something to do. The anxiety, which you had barely been managing to keep at bay, immediately flared up as your phone buzzed almost immediately.

It was Matt.

Ofc I read it. Unlike some people, I am not a poser

You blinked, a small laugh escaping before you could stop it. That wasn’t the response you expected. You could almost hear his teasing tone through the text, that familiar, easygoing confidence in his words.

If you want, I can lend it to you

You smiled to yourself, reading his message. It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t deep or meaningful. But there was something about the lightheartedness of it all, the ease with which you were texting, that made you feel a little less out of place in the conversation.

u mean I can’t just buy books? gotta step up my game, and actually read them too??

You sent the message, already imagining his reaction. Almost immediately, he responded.

Yep, no posers here I’ll be watching lol

Your heart did a strange little flip. It wasn’t much. It was just texting, just banter. But there was something about the way he messaged you that made it feel... real. Like you were both still in that quiet corner of the porch, talking without all the noise of the party drowning out everything.

You didn’t know where this would go, if anywhere at all. But you knew one thing for sure: this was more than you ever expected.

As you were about to put your phone down, your brain already accepting that that was all you were going to get, another message popped up.

Actually, speaking of that book I could use ur help with something for lit. You free?

Your eyes widened as you read it. He wanted your help? You paused, uncertain how to respond. Was it weird that he was asking you, out of all people? You didn’t know him well, but there was something about his tone that made it feel... normal.

sure !! what do u need help with?

You sent the message quickly, your curiosity piqued.

For a moment, the excitement was almost overwhelming, he was reaching out to you for something more than just a casual chat. You’d been talking about casual things so far, but this felt... different.

No response came.

You waited.

And waited.

Minutes passed. You checked your phone again, hoping. Nothing.

He was probably busy, something else having grabbed his attention. But the longer you stared at the screen, the more you felt the weight of your unanswered message hanging there.

Just as you were about to put the phone down, you saw the three little dots appear, signaling that he was typing.

But then, it stopped.

No new message. Nothing.

thank u rose for the dividers as always <3 @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: im always so scared to post shit i actually really like. anyways hmmmmmm what r our thoughts!! also pls feel more than free to send in asks about these two :>>

taglist: @backwardshatnick @sturnslutz @applecidersturniolo @kier-with-a-k @evansturn @bluestriips @55sturn @snoopychris @y3sterdaysproblem @cowboylikenat @throatgoat4u @mattswifeyy @marysongohmy @idefinitelyhateu @sweetshuga comment to be removed/added to this taglist!

till next time !!!

[hansmic]

𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁

felix x gn! reader

summary:

You are convinced that love isn’t for you , but a one of your closet friends insist on trying to set you up with someone. A match turns into an unexpected romance. What are the twists and turns that lead them to fall in love?

genre: fluff, romance

word count: 1.7k

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡

You've always been convinced that love wasn't meant for you. You've seen your friends go through their own relationship dramas, and you were perfectly content being single. But one of your closest friends was relentless in trying to set you up on a blind date with someone they claimed was "perfect" for you.

At first, you were hesitant, resisting their efforts to change your mind. You were used to your comfortable life alone. But your friend was determined, insisting that you at least give it a shot.

"Just one date, please?" they pleaded. "You might actually enjoy yourself, and who knows, this person might be the one for you."

You still weren't convinced, but their relentless persistence wore you down. Finally, you agreed to go on the date just to put an end to their nagging.

The day of the date arrives, and you're feeling a mix of nervousness and annoyance. You begrudgingly dress for the occasion, trying to look your best but still questioning why you're even doing this. You meet your friend who seems more excited for the date than you are.

As you arrive at the venue, your friend leads you inside and you notice a man sitting at a table, his back towards you. He's dressed neatly, his blonde hair contrasting against the crisp blue jacket he's wearing. Your friend whispers in your ear. "That's him. Don't blow it."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you approach the table. The man looks up as you sit down, and you're taken aback by the soft, charming smile that spreads across his face. His eyes are a deep, rich brown, and they're currently locked onto yours.

"Hi, you must be y/n," he says, his voice warm and friendly. "I'm Felix."

You manage a small nod, still feeling a little overwhelmed by the situation. "Hi," you reply, your voice a little shaky.

Felix seems to sense your nerves and he gives you a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I'm just as nervous as you are," he says with a chuckle. "This whole blind date thing is a little awkward, huh?"

You can't help but let out a small laugh in response. His honesty and easy-going nature are putting you at ease. "Yeah, it is," you admit. "But I guess we just have to see where it goes, right?"

Felix nods in agreement. "Exactly. Let's just have a good time and get to know each other," he says. "So, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do for fun?"

The conversation continues and you find yourself opening up to him, despite the initial reservations you had about the date. He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you, and his charm and wit are making it hard to resist.

As the night goes on, the conversation flows effortlessly between you two. You find yourself laughing and enjoying his company, even catching yourself getting lost in his warm gaze.

Hours pass, and you realize that you haven't checked your phone once. Normally, you would be looking for a way out of the date, but with Felix, things feel different.

Finally, as the night comes to an end, Felix looks at you with a smile. "I had a really great time tonight," he says. "Can I see you again?"

You're taken aback by his directness, but there's a part of you that's hoping for this outcome. You nod, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "I'd like that," you reply, surprised by your own words.

Felix's eyes light up at your response, and he leans in closer. "Good, because I was hoping you'd say that," he says. "There's something about you that I can't quite explain, but I really want to get to know you better."

As you say goodnight and part ways, you're left with a sense of excitement and anticipation. You thought that love wasn't meant for you, but this date has sparked something in you that you didn't expect.

The next few days pass by in a blur. You find yourself thinking about Felix more and more, his smile and his warmth lingering in your thoughts.

Your friend approaches you with a knowing glint in their eye, asking how the date went. You're hesitant to share your growing feelings, but ultimately, you can't keep it a secret. You tell them that you had a great time, and that you're actually considering seeing Felix again. Their eyes widen in surprise and they give you a sly grin. "I knew it!" they exclaim. "I knew he'd win you over."

Despite your initial reluctance, you find yourself eagerly anticipating the next time you'll see Felix. You message each other frequently, and each conversation fuels your growing feelings for him. You learn more about him, and every little detail only makes you like him more.

Your next date arrives, and as you meet up with Felix again, the chemistry between you two feels undeniable. You find yourselves falling into an easy rhythm, laughing and talking as if you've known each other for years. As the night wears on, you find your hand gently resting on his arm, and you feel a spark of electricity at the contact.

The night ends, but this time, there's no hesitation in saying goodbye. You can sense that Felix feels the same way you do. As he walks you to your car, he takes your hand in his, his thumb gently stroking yours. "I can't wait to see you again," he says, his eyes locked onto yours.

The days that follow are filled with excitement and nervousness as you count down the hours until you see Felix again. Your friends notice the change in you and tease you about it, but you don't mind. You're too caught up in the whirlwind of emotions that come with falling for someone unexpectedly.

Your third date comes around, and you find yourself spending the entire evening lost in conversation with Felix. The world around you seems to fade away as you laugh and joke, and as the night progresses, you start to notice the way he looks at you. There's a tenderness in his gaze that makes your heart race.

You find yourself wanting to be closer to him, to feel his touch and the warmth of his embrace. As the night comes to an end, you walk to your car, hand in hand. Felix stops and turns to face you, his hand gently lifting your chin so that your eyes meet. He gazes at you for a moment, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desire.

"I have something to tell you," he says, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion. You feel your heart skip a beat, anticipating his words.

He takes a deep breath and continues, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "I know we've only been on a few dates, but I can't deny how I feel about you. You're unlike anyone I've ever met, and I find myself falling for you more with every passing day."

Your heart swells, and butterflies dance in your chest at his confession. You've been feeling the same way, but hearing him say the words aloud somehow makes everything more real.

He takes a step closer, his hands moving to cup your face gently. "I don't want to rush things," he says softly. "But I need you to know how I feel. I want to be with you and see where this could go between us."

Your breath hitches in your throat, your mind overwhelmed by his words and the intensity of his gaze. You reach up, your hand finding its way to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

"I want that too," you find yourself saying, the words slipping out effortlessly. "I didn't think I'd ever feel this way about anyone, but there's just something about you that I can't resist."

A wide grin spreads across his face, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. "I'm so glad to hear that," he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against the top of your head.

You lean into his touch, feeling safe and at ease within the circle of his arms. The night air seems to grow warmer, and you both stand there for a moment, simply taking in the sensation of being wrapped up in each other's embrace.

You lift your head, your eyes meet his gaze, and you see a mixture of anticipation and desire mirrored in his expression. His hands slide up to cup your cheeks, his touch soft yet firm as he pulls you closer. The distance between you dissipates, and you feel the warmth of his breath skimming across your lips.

His lips brush softly against yours, gentle and tentative at first, almost as if he's testing the waters. But as the moment stretches on, the kiss deepens, and a current of electricity crackles between you.

His lips move over yours with a growing fervor, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. He pulls you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours. Your heart races as you respond in kind, your own hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt, as if trying to anchor yourself to this moment.

The kiss goes on, the world around you fading into the background. All you can focus on is the sensation of his lips on yours, the sweet taste of him filling your senses, and the feeling of his body pressed against yours. Time seems to stand still, and for a while, it's just the two of you, caught up in an intimate connection that feels both natural and incredible.

Finally breaking the kiss, you both pull back, a little breathless and flushed, your faces just inches apart. You can see the same mixture of happiness and anticipation mirrored in his eyes, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

You find yourself at a loss for words, unable to fully express the emotions swirling within you. Instead, you simply lean in, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms wrap around you once again, holding you close as if he never wants to let go.

Night surrounds you both as you stand there, embracing each other under the starry sky. The world seems to fade into the background, and all that matters is this moment - this connection that neither of you had expected to find but both of you now can't imagine living without.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡

hope you liked it!

masterlist is here

[mscherub]

From Rags to Riches

Ruggie Bucchi x Reader

Reader is gender neutral, referred to as Prefect

Tags!: Fluffy asf, also a little angsty, pining, very short read

Warnings!: swearing, self deprecation (Ruggie)

Ruggie knew that out of all the people in the school he’d be the last choice, the last person that you would even ever consider picking. As someone to rely on. As someone to be friends with. As someone to love him. He was just nothing, just a mere background character in the eyes of everyone, going around and doing anything to make anything. You had all these other rich, more reliable, hell, more pretty guys than him. He doesn’t have any promises he can make towards you that will always stay true, he doesn’t have any money he guarantees that can always get you what you want— what you deserve, no. None of that. What are you compared to him?

It’s a funny, thought, it’s an obvious one, too, at that. If he wants to be really unoriginal, you’re amazing, a nice person, even to someone as lowly as him. But if he wants to say something his own way, maybe that’s unique, you’re the person in his life that doesn’t try and use him, and he painfully loves you from afar, pining, waiting for a moment, that glimmer of hope that maybe you, too, liked him. But it’s only hope, right, and hope is what drives anyone, yes, but if hope is false in the end, it feels as if it was all for nothing. And if it was all for nothing…what’s the point?

He usually takes things into his own hands, trying to win over a situation so he can better from it, but when you have so many prying eyes on you at one given time, eyes that show appreciation, it makes him withdraw and holdback from trying to win your affection. It’s…not worth it. He’s not worth it, anyways…

So, to his surprise when you approached him one day, confessing your love and giving a look so earnest it almost hurt him, he didn’t know what to do. He stood there quiet, not answering, trembling even as he tried to make sense that this was real and not some imaginary thing his brain conjured up to ease the longing.

But no. He watched as you still waited by him, looking down with your hands behind your back, your legs swaying as you try and fight away the embarrassment.

“You…do you mean that or is this…”

“I mean it, Ruggie. I like you.” You murmur out. Hearing it again is like music to his ears, a sweet melody that he can listen to over and over again and not get sick of.

“Why…” is all he can manage to spit out, even mad at himself for saying it. He tries to push out more words, the phrases “I like you, too,” or, “I love you, you’re the only one,” but he can’t get the words out, all of them stuck in the back of his throat and the tip of his tongue still. But you don’t back down.

“I like you because even with all the world throws at you, you continue to do great things and…it inspires me in a way. Plus, we all do what we have to do. Does love need to be defined to a reason? Or can’t I just love you…for you?”

He pauses. His mind stops working to put pieces together, and he can’t help his tail that begins to sway with betrayed happiness and yearning. He shakes his head, still in disbelief, but when you look at him like that, so sweetly, your eyes filled with that love and appreciation he seen others looking at you with, he breaks, his walls crumble down and he finally gets out what he’s been wanting to share since the start.

“I like you, too, Prefect.” He murmurs out, looking down quickly, keeping from making any eye contact. Your arms wrap around him, he flinches at first from the unfamiliar touches, but he hugs you back, tight, like he’s hoarding something he found first and shielding it away from everyone else so only he can indulge and enjoy it. Typically for a hyena.

Ruggie knew that out of all the people in the school, you chose him, the last person he thought you’d pick, not for anything he has, but just for him, just for Ruggie Bucchi, and no other strings attached.

He may not have anything, no grandiose amounts of money, but he feels brand new now, bettered and rejuvenated with that hope he hidden away but is now able to bring it back out again. He feels like he’s gained all the riches in the world. You.

Hey how u doing now—

Thanks for reading my lovelies ❤️

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[sofisturns]

remember everything

chris’s pov

au by me and @angeliolo

chap.5 - warning

the sun hadn’t fully risen when I woke up, but I was already wide awake. my mind hadn’t really let me sleep much anyway— not when it kept circling back to y/n

i stretched, my body still heavy from exhaustion, but there was this energy running through me. anticipation maybe, or nerves. i didn’t really get nervous around people. but then again, I didn’t really meet people like her.

the house was still quiet when I padded downstairs. matt was still passed out— no surprise there. the aftermath of his usual chaos was all over the living room: an empty bottle, random wrappers, someone’s sunglasses on the floor. i stepped over it all and grabbed some water, my eyes flicking to my phone every few seconds. i didn’t know when she’d text, but I kept hoping she would soon.

i’m outside, hope ur ready for an adventure: @y/n.y/ln

@chrissturniolo: comin miss lady

my chest did this weird little flip. i got up, brushing my hands on my jeans before heading toward the front door. and when I opened it, there she was.

she was leaning against the side of her car, her arms crossed loosely, the wind tugging at her hair. she was smiling when she saw me, and damn if it didn’t knock the breath out of me just a little.

she grinned. “c’mon, let’s go. I promised you a proper tour.”

The drive was quiet at first, but not uncomfortable. she quietly hummed along to the music playing low through the speakers, her fingers tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel. I watched the way the light caught on her profile, how peaceful she looked— like she belonged wrapped up in sun and sea air.

the ‘tour’ started with a beach I hadn’t seen before — quieter than the one from last night. The sand was soft and cool under our feet as we walked along the shoreline, the waves brushing close.

“this is my favorite spot,” she said softly, her eyes fixed on the horizon. “when everything gets too…loud, this is where I go.”

i understood that feeling all too well. “it’s peaceful,” i said, my voice low. “i like it.”

she glanced over at me, something gentle in her expression. “I figured you might.”

from there, she took me to a little café tucked into a side street, the kind of place you wouldn’t know existed unless someone showed you. we sat outside with a couple drinks and a smoothie each, the conversation flowed just like it had the night before — easy, unforced.

at one point, she was telling me a story about when she was a kid, something about getting lost in a tide pool, and I was just…watching her. the way she talked with her hands, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed.

It scared me how invested i was. how much i enjoyed these stupid conversations. how much i knew id miss this the minute i got home.

we ended up back on the beach later, walking again. the sun was higher in the sky now, warming the sand as we walked along the shore. the waves kept brushing against the sand, tugging at it before slipping away again — kind of like how I felt right then. always halfway between wanting to stay and wanting to pull back.

y/n walked a few steps ahead of me, arms stretched out like she was balancing on some invisible line. the wind pulled at her hair, sending strands of it across her face, and she didn’t even seem to notice. she was so…at ease. like this her place, right here at the beach.

“you’re quiet,” she said, glancing back at me over her shoulder.

“yeah,” I admitted, kicking at a piece of driftwood in the sand. “just…thinking.”

“about what?”

I hesitated. about her. about how this felt so easy, about how the longer I stayed close to her, the more I wanted to — and how worrying that was. but I couldn’t say that.“about how weird this is,” I said.

she raised an eyebrow. “weird?” “not in a bad way,” I added quickly, seeing the flicker of something cross her face. “just… I don’t usually do this.”

“do what”

“let people in.” my voice quiet enough that the sound of the waves almost swallowed it up. for a second, she didn’t say anything. and when she did, her voice was softer than before. “well… I’m glad you did.” the words sat between us, and I wanted to believe them — I really did. but part of me couldn’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop.

i kept walking, letting the silence stretch out, until I felt her hand brush against mine. and before I could think too much about it, she laced her fingers through mine.

It was such a simple thing — small and easy, but it still made my chest tighten. I tried not to pull away. I really did. but it happened almost before I realized it, my fingers slipping out of hers as I pretended to adjust the sleeve of my hoodie.

y/n didn’t say anything about it, didn’t even seem to notice — not really. she just gave me a small smile and kept walking, her eyes flicking back toward the waves.

but I noticed. and I hated the way it made me feel. “sorry,” I said after a beat, my voice awkward and rough. “i— i just…”

“it’s okay,” she cut in easily, like it really didn’t bother her. “don’t worry about it.” and maybe that should’ve made me feel better. but it didn’t. because if I couldn’t even hold her hand without feeling like I was gonna drown, what the hell was I doing here?

still, she didn’t bring it up again. and by the time we made it back to her car, she was laughing at something I’d said, and everything felt light again.

but in the back of my mind, that moment stuck — like a quiet warning I wasn’t ready to listen to yet.

last night we were cooooking w ideas for remember everything guys u don’t understand it’s ab to get crazy

⋆.˚ taglist

@chrissweetheart @chrissturniolossidebitch @chrepsi @espressqe @stvrniolotrxpl3ts @mothstvrnz @m00nl1tgh0st @sonnysturns