summary: shortfic (possibly a start to a longer fic if this goes well on tumblr) in which Y/N and Gladio are book nerds who argue over The Sorrows of Young Werther. Prompto wisely minds his business. Noctis catches some z's.
note: a silly camp dinner moment bc i know gladio reads sad jp poetry in the regalia like he's auditioning for pride & prejudice and y/n's not having it. enjoy the chaos!
“Werther is stupid! Why would a guy kill himself over an unrequited love?” Y/N stabbed their fork into their meal like it personally offended them. “Get over it and go touch some grass. Or in his case, some mud, I don't care.”
Gladio raised an eyebrow over his beer bottle, unfazed. “It's called Romanticism, Y/N. Ever heard of it? Feelings? Depth? Tragic yearning?”
“I have, yeah. But dying over a girl who was literally married?” They shook their head, glaring at their toast. “That's not romantic, that's Darwinism in action.”
Prompto let out a soft "heh" from the side, then quickly pretended to drink from an empty mug.
Gladio leaned back in his folding chair, arms crossed. “You're being harsh. Werther wasn't just in love, he was consumed. That era was all about passion, not practicality.”
Y/N rolled their eyes. “Well, this era is about mental health and not making yourself a cautionary tale.”
“Look, just because you don’t relate to that level of devotion-”
“Oh, I do. I'd just rather suffer with dignity and maybe a face mask.”
Noctis muttered in his sleep nearby. The chocobos clucked from their pen.
Gladio smirked. “Fine. But next time I catch you crying over a tragic fanfic, I'm reading Werther aloud at full volume.”
“Try it,” Y/N said, pointing their fork at him. “I'll replace your poetry stash with Twilight.”
“…you wouldn't.”
“Wouldn't I?”
Prompto decided it was a good time to go feed the chocobos and leave this literary chaos to them.
@drxcorelibre - do not steal, plagiarise or repost my posts on any other social media. This is my only account.
genre/warnings: gen-neutral reader, intimate sfw shortfic, awkward to lovers, romance, profanity
Put some of that rain asmr in your headphones for the extra flavour x
summary: You and Gavin, both too afraid to make the first move, finally face your feelings for each other after a long, tense silence. Amid the rain and your mutual hesitation, you both stop pretending and take a chance.
The rain came down in relentless sheets, turning the streets of Detroit into a shimmering blur of grey and silver. It hammered against the sidewalks, pooled in the potholes, and clung to the rusted-out curbs in greasy puddles. Car tires hissed as they rolled past, their taillights smearing red streaks across the wet asphalt. The heavy clouds hung low, smothering the city in a dim, bruised kind of light that seeped into everything.
Under the wide stone roof awning outside the Detroit Police Department, Gavin Reed stood with his hands jammed deep into his jacket pockets. His boots were planted firm against the concrete, the hard lines of his body tense against the humid chill. Just a few feet beyond the edge of the cover, the rain battered the world into chaos — but here, in this thin slice of shelter, everything felt suspended. Held together by habit and hesitation.
You stood a few paces away, arms folded tightly across your chest. Your hoodie clung damply to your frame at the edges where the rain had caught you before you ducked under the awning. Stray drops clung to the ends of your hair, curled slightly from the damp. You weren't shivering, but there was a tightness to your posture, like you were holding yourself together by sheer force of will.
Neither of you spoke.
The low drone of rain filled the space between the both of you, broken now and then by the wet hiss of passing cars or the hollow clatter of a far-off train. The neon lights from a diner across the street smeared against the puddled asphalt, painting the world in blurred reds and blues. Somewhere down the block, a siren wailed — thin, tired, distant. The whole city felt blurred, like it was breathing around you — like it was waiting.
Gavin shifted his weight, the slow drag of his boot against the concrete almost lost under the roar of the storm. He shifted his weight, and you couldn’t help but look up. His face was lined with frustration.
"I'm not good at this," he said. His shoulders hunched slightly, like he was bracing for a hit. "I'm not good at... letting people in."
The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable.
You blinked, slow, the movement making the droplets at your lashes catch the dim light. Your fingers tightened around the sleeves of your hoodie, nails digging into the fabric. Every part of you wanted to armour up, to laugh it off, to turn the fear into something manageable. But you didn't.
"I'm not either," you said, voice steady but small, like you were saying it to the storm instead of to him.
For a long moment, Gavin didn't move. Just looked at you — really looked — the usual edge stripped clean away as his eyes softened. The stubborn, worn-down anger he wore like armour had cracked wide open, like he wanted something more than just the usual fight, the usual distance.
"But I'm tired," he said, the words scraping out of him. "Tired of pretending I don't want to try."
Slowly, deliberately, he stepped closer.
The sound of his boot heel scuffing the concrete was sharp in the thick air. You felt yourself tense instinctively, but you didn't step back. You stayed where you were, rooted in the moment, feeling the heat radiating from his body, the sudden shift in the air. You didn’t trust yourself to move.
He stopped just short of touching you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, could see the fine lines of strain around his eyes. Rain blurred the world behind him, but here, up close, everything about him was sharp.
"So..." you said, your throat thick. "What do we do?"
Gavin's mouth twitched, the ghost of a crooked smile pulling at the corner — like he wasn't sure if it was allowed to be there.
"Maybe," he said, voice softer now, "we stop bein' so damn scared."
His hand lifted — slow, so slow it almost hurt to watch. He hesitated halfway, fingers curling slightly, before he finally reached out. The backs of his knuckles brushed against your temple, feather-light, before he tucked a stray lock of damp hair behind your ear.
His touch was careful. Reverent. Like he wasn't sure he deserved it.
Your breath caught, heart hammering against your ribs. You tilted your face toward him without thinking, the smallest shift, eyes half-closing against the electric jolt of the contact. His fingers were tracing the curve of your cheek as though he was memorizing the feel of your skin.
So, he leaned in.
Not all at once — a slow, halting lean, a silent question in every inch of movement. His breath ghosted against your lips, warm against the cool air. Close enough that you could smell the soap on his skin, the faint trace of cigarettes and rain clinging to his jacket.
You didn't move away, but tilted your chin up just the slightest bit more — an answer, wordless and sure.
When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was soft — tentative at first, barely a whisper of contact. The world outside, the storm, the noise, all of it faded into the background, like it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of his mouth on yours, the heat you could feel between you despite the cold air.
Then, Gavin made a small, broken sound low in his throat, and the kiss deepened — not frantic, but aching, full of all the things both of you had never said. His hand slid from your temple down to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing slow along your cheekbone. Your fingers found the front of his jacket, curling tight into the fabric like you were anchoring yourself.
The storm kept raging just beyond the edge of their small, stolen world. Rain battered the city into grey oblivion. The world could have been burning down around you, and neither of you would have cared.
You could feel the press of his chest against yours, the heat of his body, the way his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, almost like he was afraid you might slip away.
The kiss was soft, both of you giving in to the quiet intimacy of it. Of the moment. Of each other.
When the kiss finally broke, it wasn't because either of you wanted it to. It was simply that your lungs couldn't take it anymore — the shared breath, the desperate need for air. The world slowly shifted back into focus.
Gavin's fingers brushed your cheek, slow, almost like he was trying to ground himself, trying to figure out if this was real. And when his eyes met yours, he let out a quiet, breathless laugh, the kind that felt like a mixture of relief and disbelief.
"God, we're idiots," he said, voice soft and low, but the tension was gone, "Took us long enough, huh?"
You couldn’t help but smile, "You think?" you said, arching an eyebrow. "I mean, we really nailed the timing, huh? You’re soaked, I'm soaked, and this rain just won't stop fucking pouring.’
"Could've been worse," he said, lowering his voice, his breath warm against your face. "At least we didn't freeze out here like idiots, waiting for the other person to make the first move.”
You laughed — it was a breathless, unrestrained kind of laugh. The tension in your chest eased just a little.
"Yeah," you said, voice a little rougher than usual. "Maybe next time we'll take a class on how to be less of a fucking disaster.”
Gavin's hand slipped down, fingers tracing the edge of your hoodie, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he pulled you in closer, pressing his forehead gently to yours.
"Maybe," he murmured, his voice dipping into vulnerability, "But I'm still glad I'm here.”
"Yeah," you whispered, a soft, confident grin pulling at your lips. "Me too.”
@drxcorelibre - do not steal, plagiarise, or repost my posts on any other social media. This is my only account.
genre/warnings: enemies to lovers, sfw, martinez is a made up char for the plot :^
summary: You hated working with Detective Gavin Reed. He was rude, arrogant, and pushed every one of your buttons—but for some reason, you couldn't stop thinking about him. One late night at the DPD, a teasing conversation turns into something neither of you expected.
It was almost midnight at the Detroit Police Department, and the place had thinned out to a skeleton crew. The only sounds were the buzz of fluorescent lights and the occasional clack of keyboards. You leaned against the vending machine in the break room, sipping on bad coffee that tasted more like regret.
Martinez, one of the other detectives on night duty, stood beside you, eyeing you with that grin that meant trouble.
“So,” she started, voice hushed but playful, “the way you and Reed go at it? I swear, it looks like you two tear each other’s clothes off after shift.”
You snorted. “Gross. No.”
“I’m serious!” she laughed. “All that arguing, the tension? You two have the kind of hate sex energy that melts walls. You sure there’s not a little unresolved tension there?”
“The only tension is me not punching him in the face.
“Uh-huh.” Martinez sipped her drink. “Bet he’s good with his hands though.”
You gave her a warning look, but your ears were burning.
“You’re insane,” you muttered.
“You didn’t say no fast enough.”
“Martinez—”
“Don’t stop on my account,” came a voice from the doorway.
You froze. Slowly, you turned. Gavin Reed leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his usual smirk firmly in place.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt your girl talk,” he said. “But, hey—good to know I’m living rent-free in your head.”
Martinez laughed and made a quick exit, clearly proud of herself.
You stayed behind, heart pounding with embarrassment and irritation.
Back at your desk, the silence between you two was sharp. You focused hard on your files, pretending you couldn’t feel him looking at you.
“You know,” he said after a while, his voice lazy, “you didn’t exactly deny it with much conviction.”
“Deny what?” you asked flatly.
“That you’ve thought about it.”
You looked up slowly. “Do you want me to tase you?”
He grinned. “Kinky.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here we are. Alone. Again.”
You rolled your eyes and went back to reading. A few moments passed.
“You doing anything tomorrow night?” he asked casually.
That made you pause. “Why?”
“Thought maybe we could get a drink. Talk. Argue somewhere with better lighting.”
You blinked. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” He leaned in a little. “I asked because I want to. Not because I want to mess with you.”
You stared at him for a long second. “Fine. But if it sucks, I’m writing you up.”
The bar he picked was tucked away on a quiet street. Low lights, soft music, and a few scattered booths. You slid into the one he was already sitting in.
“You’re not late,” he said.
“You sound disappointed.”
“Nah.” He took a sip of his beer. “I kind of wanted to see what you looked like when you weren’t glaring at me under fluorescent lights.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Flatter me again, and I might throw my drink at you.”
“Noted.”
They ordered. The food was forgettable. The banter wasn’t.
“You always been this much of a pain in the ass?” you asked.
“Pretty much. My mom says it builds character.”
You actually laughed, a quiet, surprised sound. “You have a mom?”
“Believe it or not.” He looked at you for a second, eyes more serious now. “What about you? Always been the type to pick fights in the bullpen?”
“Only with guys who deserve it.”
“Lucky me.”
There was a pause. The kind that felt like something unsaid hung just between you two.
“Look,” Gavin said, voice lower, “I know I’m a lot. I give people crap. It’s easier that way.
You tilted your head. “You trying to explain yourself to me now?”
“Yeah. Maybe. Just… I don’t hate you, okay? I might’ve acted like it. But I don’t. I like that you fight back. I like that you’re not scared of me.”
You looked at him carefully, surprised by the sudden honesty.
“You’re not so scary, Reed,” you said softly.
He smiled, just a little. “Good. That’d make this date a real HR nightmare.”
Later, you walked back toward your cars, the chill air sobering after the heat of the bar.
“So…” Gavin started, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Did I ruin it?”
You shook your head. “Not entirely.”
“Damn. I was going for charming.”
“Debatable,” you smirked.
You stood there, the city buzzing around you. You stepped a little closer.
“You kiss me right now, Reed, and I’ll break your nose,” you warned.
“Noted,” he said, grinning.
You didn’t kiss. But you didn’t walk away either.
Just stood there a little too long.
Something had changed.
And both of you knew it.
The next morning, the DPD was its usual chaotic self. You were already at your desk, coffee in hand, eyes bleary.
“So,” Martinez slid up beside you, eyes glittering, “how was the date?"
You didn’t look at her. “It was fine.”
“Fine? That’s all I get? Come on, did he show up in that stupid jacket? Did he say anything dumb? Did he make you laugh?”
You bit back a smirk. “Yes, yes, and maybe.”
Before Martinez could say more, Gavin dropped a file on your desk without a word. As he walked away, he shot you a subtle wink.
Martinez’s jaw dropped. “He winked. That’s basically marriage in his language.”
You just sipped your coffee. “Shut up, Martinez.”
But you didn’t stop smiling.
@drxcorelibre - do not steal, plagiarise, or repost my posts on any other social media. This is my only account.
⚠ Genre/warnings: situationship to lovers idk i just love prom and he deserves this sm, slight nsfw (heated makeout), pinning, atp cindy4life lol, this is so damnn
✎ Reading time: approx. 16min
₊˚ʚ It was as if the months apart had never happened, the chemistry between you still as strong as ever.
₊˚ʚ Prompto pushed himself away from the garage wall and began slowly making his way towards you. Each step he took was measured, his eyes never leaving yours.
₊˚ʚ Suddenly, it was as if a dam burst. All the pent-up emotions, the months of silence, the questions left unasked, came rushing out at once.
The night was quiet, and the stars above were the only witnesses to your departure. The journey to Hammerhead was cold and lonely, the silence only broken by the crunch of gravel under your shoes.
You made your way along the path, the lights of Hammerhead growing closer with each step. The thought of leaving the group behind weighed heavily on your heart, but you had made your decision.
As you finally reached the base of Hammerhead, Cindy, who was working late into the night, noticed your arrival. She looked up from her project, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of you alone.
"Well, now, ain't that a sight," she remarked in her soft drawl, taking in your state. "What're you doin' here this late and by yourself, darlin'?"
"i left the guys."
Cindy's curious expression quickly turned to surprise. "Left the boys, huh? Ain't that somethin'. What happened there, if you don't mind me askin'?"
"just- realised i never belonged."
Cindy's brow furrowed at your words, a hint of concern in her eyes. "Never belonged? What makes you say that?"
"At the end of the day, we girls can't afford to stay with the boys." you chuckled.
Cindy raised an eyebrow at your chuckle, a puzzled look on her face. "Why's that, darlin'? Nothin' wrong with a girl hangin' with the fellas."
"i caught feelings." you said, gripping onto your belongings.
Understanding dawned in Cindy's eyes as you confessed. She looked at you with empathy, seeing the pain behind your words. She took a seat on a nearby crate and patted the spot next to her, gesturing for you to sit. "Come on, sit down. Let's talk."
You hesitantly joined her, sitting on the crate and placing your belongings beside you. The night air was still and quiet, the only noise coming from the faint sounds of machinery and distant crickets.
Cindy looked at you, her voice soft in the moonlight. "So, you been likin' one of the boys, huh? Can't blame ya, they're handsome fellas. Which one was it, if ya don't mind me askin'?"
"Prompto" The thought of him sent tingles down your spine as you spoke his name out loud.
"Ah, Prompto. He's a good kid. Real peppy, always crackin' jokes. Can't really blame ya for falling for him."
She paused, her eyes studying your face, "But somethin' tells me it ain't as simple as just likin' him, is it?"
You played with your bracelets as you spoke nervously, a bit worried for Cindy's judgement of the situation you put yourself in.
"I felt like my feelings could potentially ruin the group dynamic so i left, realising I don't belong."
Cindy chuckled with empathy, "Sounds like a bit of a mess, darlin'."
"But it ain't your feelings that's ruining things. You have a right to feel the way you feel.
Cindy shifted slightly, turning to face you directly. "You ain't ruined nothin' by likin' Prompto. That's just how the heart works, can't always control who you fall for."
"it's fine! I'll get over it..."
Cindy could sense the resignation in your voice, and it tugged at her heartstrings. "It's not gonna be that easy, darlin'. Feelings like that don't just go away, especially not overnight."
You held your head up, looking at her sheepishly. "That's why I came here to ask you... If i could stay here, work, get my mind off of them?"
Cindy's face brightened at your request. "You wanna work here, huh? Well, we could always use an extra pair of hands. Plus, keepin' busy is a good way to keep your mind occupied."
She patted your back with a warm smile. "Sure, darlin'. You can stay and work. I'll teach you the ropes, and before you know it, you'll be a regular mechanic here at Hammerhead."
"thanks"
Cindy gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "No need to thank me, darlin'. We all need a fresh start sometimes, and that's what Hammerhead's all about. New beginnings."
╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. You found solace in the rhythm of the garage, the familiar hum of machines and the hum of the desert night lulling you into a sense of peace. Your days were filled with the scent of oil and the occasional banter with Cindy and Cid, the gruff yet affectionate owner of the garage.
The work was challenging at times, but you found comfort in the routine. The distance from Prompto and the guys allowed you time to process your feelings and come to terms with your new life. Despite the occasional pang of friendsickness, you found a sense of belonging in your new role at Hammerhead.
Over time, you adapted to the garage life, your hands becoming calloused and greasy, your laughter and skills familiar to the regular visitors of Hammerhead, who welcomed you as one of their own.
But every now and then, thoughts of Prompto and the group would creep into your mind, like a faint whisper in the wind. You pushed them aside, reminding yourself of the reasons you had left in the first place. Still, the ache in your chest was undeniable, the memories and what-ifs lingering like a bittersweet perfume. It was a constant struggle, balancing the tranquility of your new life with the lingering pull of the past.
As the familiar sound of the Regalia's engine echoed through the air, you looked up from your work on a nearby car, your heart skipping a beat. It was the chocobros, here for some vehicle upgrades.
Noctis led the charge, followed closely by Ignis, Gladiolus, and... Prompto. Seeing them all again, so casually together, sent a pang of nostalgia and longing through you.
Hiding your feelings behind a neutral expression, you quickly tried to push down the emotions welling up within you. You feigned distraction, continuing to tinker with the car in front of you, hoping they wouldn't notice your internal struggle.
Cindy, however, had a keen eye for reading people. She noticed the flicker of emotion in your eyes as the group approached. She sidled up beside you, a knowing look in her eyes.
"You all right, darlin'?" she whispered, her voice low and understanding. "They can't see it, but I can."
"I'll be alright." You said, wiping oil grease from your cheek, giving her a reassuring smirk.
Cindy gave you a supportive smile, patting your back gently. "You've got guts, holdin' it together like this. 'Course you'll be alright. Just remember, I'm here if you need to vent, scream, or just a shoulder to lean on."
The rest of the group had been engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to your momentary struggle. Prompto's laughter echoed in the background, causing your heart to clench slightly as you tried to focus on your work.
The urge to run towards them and hug them all while spilling so many sorry's went through your mind for a split second, but you knew that won't do.
The guys approached the garage, peeking in at your figure working on some badass vehicles.
Everyone had noticed the transformation. With your new outfit, your voice resembling Cindy's Southern drawl, and your mannerisms changing to match hers, you had become a bit of a chameleon, blending into the environment of the garage.
Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus glanced your way, their eyes widening slightly as they took in your appearance and demeanour. But it was Prompto's reaction that caught your attention.
He stood there, stunned for a moment, his eyes wide as he stared at you. The gears in his head were clearly turning as he tried to reconcile the 'new you' with the person he once knew.
He seemed to be at a loss for words, the familiar banter and jokes that usually flowed effortlessly from him were nowhere to be found.
As the group settled in and started discussing the upgrades they wanted for the Regalia, Cindy smoothly took charge. She launched into a friendly negotiation with Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus, while Prompto lingered in the background, his eyes still resting on you occasionally.
You, however, tried to keep your focus on your work, pretending not to notice his glances. The sounds of the garage faded into the background as you tried to keep your hands steady and your mind clear.
Every so often, you'd catch a glimpse of Prompto in your peripheral vision, his eyes meeting yours before quickly averting them, looking a bit flustered. The air between you both was heavy with unspoken emotions, an invisible thread of tension stretching tight.
Cindy, ever observant, noticed the silent communication between you and Prompto. She suppressed a slight grin, her eyes flickering between the two of you as she continued her negotiations with the guys.
As they finalized the details with Cindy, the conversation wrapped up, and they began to prepare to leave. Prompto lingered a moment longer, his eyes still on you, his expression a mix of longing and hesitation.
The group sauntered out of the garage, heading toward the nearby restaurant, their voices carrying on the warm evening air. Cindy watched them go, then turned to you with a knowing smile.
"You sure you don't wanna join them, darlin'?" she asked, her tone gentle but laced with encouragement.
"it's better this way."
Cindy nodded understandingly, her smile turning slightly bittersweet. "I get it, darlin'. Sometimes, what you want and what you need are two different things."
As you continued to work on the car, your thoughts were a tangle of emotions. Seeing Prompto and the guys again had stirred up feelings you had been trying to suppress, and their departure left you with a mix of relief and a strange pang of emptiness.
Your heart ached with an unspoken longing, a silent plea for just one more moment, one more look into his eyes. The familiar banter, the laughter, the bond you used to share - it all seemed like a lifetime ago.
The hum of the car under your hands was a temporary distraction, but it couldn't drown out the persistent pull in your chest, the deep-seated desire to see Prompto again, to hear his voice, to feel his presence.
The hours ticked by, the sun slowly descending towards the horizon. The guys finished their meal and emerged from the restaurant, their voices echoing through the still night air as they discussed their plans for the night.
Your eyes found Prompto amongst the group, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the sunset. His gaze roamed over the garage and, for a moment, seemed to linger on you.
Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Prompto's gaze fall on you for a moment. Reflexively, you ducked your head, using your long bangs and ponytail as a makeshift shield, hoping he hadn't noticed you watching him.
The sound of the guys' footsteps approaching sent a jolt through you, your senses hyper-alert to every sound and movement. You could hear them saying their goodbyes to Cindy.
Noctis sauntered over to you, an intrigued look in his eyes. He leaned against the hood of the car you were working on, observing you quietly for a moment before finally speaking.
"You've changed a lot, haven't you?" he noted, his voice nonchalant but his eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Still sharp, even in a new shell," he commented, his tone holding a hint of pride. "You're good at adapting."
You couldn't really speak up, although you felt like there was so much to say. You nodded in confirmation, getting back to work.
Noctis watched you silently for a moment, his expression a mix of confusion and a hint of frustration. It was clear he had more to say, but you had already shut him down. He gave a slight shrug, realizing that pushing further would be futile.
"Take care."
The guys climbed into the car, the Regalia's engine roaring to life as they pulled away from the garage, disappearing into the night.
The silence that settled over Hammerhead after they left felt deafening. The hum of the garage, the occasional rustle of the desert wind, and the beating of your own heart were the only sounds left in the stillness of the night.
The thought of them driving off into the night, continuing their adventures without you, stung more than you cared to admit. But you shook the thought away quickly, reminding yourself of the reasons you had left in the first place.
You turned your attention back to the car you were working on, determined to bury yourself in the familiar rhythm of the garage work. The sooner you lost yourself in the work, the sooner you could forget about the ache in your chest.
╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴
The days were filled with the hustle and bustle of the garage, and the nights were spent catching up over the dinner table with Cindy and Cid, listening to their stories and sharing a few laughs.
Time had flown by in a blur of car repair and tire changes. The days had been long but filled with the fulfilling sense of accomplishment and routine. 11 months had passed since you had left the group, the pain of separation slowly fading into a dull ache you had learned to live with.
The nights were the hardest, when the silence of the garage seemed deafening, and the memory of Prompto's face would surface in your mind, unbidden.
The sound of the Regalia's engine roaring into the garage was a welcome yet unwelcome intrusion one day. You looked up from the car you were working on to see Noctis, Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto stepping out of the car, looking a bit weary but no worse for the wear.
They looked more seasoned, their faces sporting a few more scars, but their eyes were still filled with the familiar determination and bond they had shared since the beginning of their journey.
Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus greeted Cindy and Cid with some casual banter, their voices familiar and almost comforting. Prompto lingered a bit behind the rest, his eyes scanning the garage until they landed on you, as if time was repeating.
Your gazes met, and that familiar rush of emotions washed over you both. The weight of the past six months hung heavy in the air, a silent conversation passing between you both through the brief exchange of looks.
A mix of surprise, relief, and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on flickered in Prompto's eyes, but it was gone in an instant as Gladiolus said something, drawing his attention away from you.
You returned your focus to the car, pretending to be busy with tuning, but your heart was racing in your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Prompto stealing furtive glances in your direction.
Every glance sent a jolt of electricity through you, reminding you of the chemistry you had shared before you left. The silence between you both felt heavy, filled with unspoken words, emotions, and a thousand questions.
You returned to your work, but the ache in your chest grew more insistent.
The evening descended upon Hammerhead, bringing a gentle coolness to the air. The stars above glittered like diamonds against the inky black canvas of the night sky.
The sound of footsteps in the garage startled you, breaking the peaceful silence of the night. You looked up to see the unmistakable silhouette of Prompto, framed by the dim light spilling in from the outside.
Prompto stood at the entrance of the garage, his lean frame casually rested against the door frame. His eyes were fixed on you, studying you intently. He didn't say anything for a moment, just watched you silently.
The air between you was thick with unspoken words, a thousand emotions swirling in the silence. Prompto's eyes were unreadable, his expression a mixture of curiosity.
You couldn't breathe, you couldn't speak.
Your heart stuttered in your chest as you met Prompto's gaze, and suddenly, you found yourself at a loss for words. Your mouth felt dry, your thoughts a tangled mess. It was as if his presence had sucked all the oxygen from the air, leaving you in a state of breathlessness.
You tried to say something, anything, but no words came out. You stared back at him, your eyes wide, your heart thudding loudly in your ears. The silence between you was deafening.
Prompto's gaze had changed. His eyes shone with a new, more masculine air, his once boyish features now sharpened and matured, giving him a more rugged and handsome look.
His blue eyes were like twin pools of shimmering water, seemingly drawing you into him. You noticed the freckles that sprinkle his tan skin like stars on a night sky. His hair was messy yet attractive, falling effortlessly in shaggy layers around his face.
You noticed this change as he looked at you. His gaze was no longer the playful and innocent gaze you had grown to know.
His gaze held a confidence that hadn’t been there before, and it sent a shiver down your spine.
Prompto seemed to sense your inner turmoil, the way your breath hitched and your eyes widened. His gaze softened slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face.
Prompto pushed away from the door frame and began slowly making his way towards you. Each step he took was measured, his eyes never leaving yours. With every step, the distance between you seemed to shrink, the tension building silently.
As he closed the gap between you, you could see the myriad of emotions playing out in his eyes. He came to a stop just a few steps away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets.
"h-hello again..."
Prompto's expression softened further, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Hey."
His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if he was trying to gauge your response to his presence. He looked at you quietly for a moment more, his eyes searching your face.
The air was filled with a mix of uncertainty and anticipation, both of you teetering on the edge of something unspoken.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, watching each other. Prompto's eyes held an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, and there was a vulnerability in his expression that you had never seen before.
Suddenly, it was as if a dam burst. All the pent-up emotions, the months of silence, the questions left unasked, they all came rushing out at once.
Without a word, Prompto closed the remaining distance between you, his hands reaching out to grasp your arms. He pulled you towards him, his grip firm but gentle, his eyes never leaving yours.
You stumbled slightly as he tugged you closer, your body colliding against his. His breath was warm against your face, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart mirrored in your own chest.
He stood there, holding you tightly, his eyes roaming over your face, tracing the contours, studying your expression. His fingers started to rub small soothing circles on your skin, sending small frissons of electricity down your spine.
The kiss was sudden and intense, his lips claiming yours with a desperate hunger. It was as if months of pent-up frustration, longing, and unspoken words were poured into that single gesture.
Your mind went blank for a moment, surprised by the sudden contact. But then, a wave of desire washed over you, and your body responded on instinct. Your arms reached up to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, as you returned the kiss with equal fervor.
His hands moved from your arms and settled on the sides of your face, holding you as he deepened the kiss. It was as if the months apart had never happened, the chemistry between you still as strong as ever.
The sound of the boys calling out for Prompto shattered the moment, reminding you that the outside world existed.
Reluctantly, you both pulled away from each other, your breaths ragged and your eyes slightly dazed.
You looked into each other's eyes, both of you trying to regain your composure, the passion of the kiss still lingering on your lips. Prompto looked torn, his gaze reluctantly moving towards the sound of the guys' voices.
You could see the struggle on his face, the desire to stay with you and the pressure to return to the group. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, taking a step back, putting some distance between you again.
Prompto gave you a small, almost rueful smile, his eyes locking with yours. "Yeah, I'll make sure I do more damage to the Regalia during our trips..." He said, indicating they were all here because of his little mischief.
He glanced back over his shoulder at the direction the guys' voices were coming from. "Duty calls," he said reluctantly, a hint of disappointment in his tone.
Taken by surprise, Prompto stumbled back towards you, his mouth forming a small 'o' as you pulled him in for another kiss. The unexpected gesture caught him off guard, but after a moment, he melted into the kiss, his arms encircling your waist as he held you tightly.
When you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath still a bit ragged. "Wait for me?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper.
"like i always do."
Prompto's breath hitched at your words, and for a moment, he just held you tighter, his eyes searching yours. A mixture of emotions flickered across his face - surprise, hope, and a touch of disbelief.
He closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale. "Damn it," he muttered as if he was both frustrated and relieved. "I can't leave now knowing you need me, can I?"
Prompto pushed you against the garage wall, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in another fervent kiss. The cool night air was a contrast against the heat between you. His hands explored the curves of your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
The world around you seemed to fall away, the only thing that existed being the two of you, your bodies pressed together, your breaths mingling in the dark. His lips left kisses against your neck, tasting and teasing, igniting a fire that you thought had died months ago.
The moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps followed by a collective gasp. You looked up to see Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus staring at you two, their mouths hanging open.
They stood there, completely taken aback by the sight of you and Prompto locked together against the garage wall. You both froze, your eyes widening in surprise and slight embarrassment at being caught.
Noctis was the first to break the silence, a shocked and almost comical expression on his face as he looked between the two of you. "What the hell?" he blurted out.
Ignis and Gladiolus were both speechless, their eyes wide as they tried to process what they were witnessing. Gladiolus whistled low, breaking the silence with a low, appreciative "damn."
Prompto pulled away from you, his hands still holding onto your waist as he turned to face the others. He looked sheepish and a bit guilty, a flush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, Hey guys..."
Noctis pinched his nose and you pushed Prompto lightly towards them. "You gotta go."
Prompto gave you an almost pleading look, as if he didn't want to leave, but seeing your insistence, he reluctantly let go of you, a hint of disappointment in his eyes.
Noctis, still looking utterly bewildered, just shook his head slightly, mumbling something along the lines of "I can't believe this." Ignis, chuckled at the prince's comment.
Ignis and Gladiolus had similarly surprised expressions on their faces, though Gladiolus just looked amused and somewhat impressed. He clapped a hand on Prompto's shoulder as they started walking back to the Regalia, Prompto throwing one last glance back at you before disappearing into the night.
The ache in your chest was replaced by a feeling of affection as you anticipated your next encounter with Prompto, envisioning another good memory to cherish.
@drxcorelibre - do not steal, plagiarise or repost my posts on any other social media. This is my only account.
I have finally decided to compile all information I have about Prompto’s Tattoos and anything about MTs that I have gathered into one post since I’ve had it scattered across multiple posts.
Anyone who has played FFXV knows that as a child, Noctis suffered from an injury that rendered him unable to walk for a while â the reason for his visit to Tenebrae as a kid, and thus his first meeting with Luna shortly before Tenebrae fell. The Brotherhood anime and Kingsglaive movie expand on it a little bit, giving more information on the extent of the injury, as well as what caused it: a daemon called the Marilith. As a reminder, I mean this thing:
The injury was severe enough that Noctis remained in a coma for an unspecified amount of time (though most likely at least a couple weeks, if not a couple months) and even once he woke and recovered a bit, he was unable to walk, his legs being paralyzed (or he was literally paraplegic, meaning paralyzed from the waist down; thatâs a valid possibility as well, and an even more likely one all things considered). Furthermore, it is a widely assumed headcanon (and rather heavily implied, though never actually stated in the game) that he was infected by the Starscourge through this injury. For these reasons, he was taken to Tenebrae so the Oracle may heal him, though this led to Niflheim attacking and conquering Tenebrae as a result.
Well, fine, he was healed. Thatâs that then. Except itâs not, according to Noctisâ character sheet in the gameâs archives.
âAn injury incurred as a young boy deprived him access to the full potential of his innate powerâ, huh?
Unless there was another âchildhood injuryâ that we donât know about, which is unlikely, this references the Marilith. And that injury, though healed by the Oracle, apparently left marks deep enough that it affected Noctisâ ability to use his magic. But that begs the question: how exactly was he affected? No part of the game or the anime or ANYTHING gives us any real indication on that. So all we can do is speculate. That said, here are some thoughts I had on the matter.
Hoi, I just wanted to say that your Jiyan post is amazing! You’re a super talented writer! As for what I want to ask, do you write Honkai Star Rail? :0
Heyy I'm going to write exclusively for fandoms i am in. Unfortunately, hsr isn't one of them since I don't play hoyoverse games im afraid !
Hi I was wondering when you're gonna do more Jiyan fanfic. Your newest one was so amazing <3 <3
Hi! I appreciate your comment <3
As for now, I do not have a set schedule since I am new to Tumblr, and I would like to keep it that way. I will definitely post more of Jiyi in the close future!
: ̗̀➛ From catching his broadblade to catching feelings x
⚠ Genre/warnings: slight nsfw (heated makeout), pinning, gender neutral reader, mentions of sexual intimacy, childhood friends to lovers
✎ Word count: 4,897 words
ׂׂૢ "Stop," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Stop trying to take it back. You can't... un-say something like this."
ׂׂૢ "You don't understand," he said, his voice suddenly thick, choked with emotions. "I could never hate you, could never look at you any differently. I..."
ׂׂૢ "Goddamn it," he muttered under his breath. "You don't know what you do to me."
You and Jiyan duel in a remote area in the central plains. He’s top notch unlike you, but you pay no mind to it. You're more focused on spending as much time with him as possible until you'll both need to return to duty as midnight rangers.
The area is surrounded by tall trees and lush, dense bushes. There is a small clearing in the middle, and that's where you and Jiyan have set up for your dueling sessions. It is mostly untouched ground, a flat and smooth plain that serves as the perfect battle stage.
The commander readies his spear and takes a moment to study you, a look of determination in his eyes. This is a familiar dance between the two of you, yet you can sense that today Jiyan is a bit more intense than usual. Maybe it is because he's recently had a particularly challenging mission. He makes the first move, launching a barrage of attacks with precise and calculated movements. Each blow, though controlled, is done with skill and force. You feel like a mouse caught in a cat's game.
Despite the intensity of Jiyan's assault, you try your best to resist. You dodge and parry his strikes, occasionally landing a counterattack of your own. However, Jiyan shows no signs of tiring. He continues his onslaught with unwavering determination. The speed and skill of his spear are truly remarkable. Every move oozes finesse and experience. It's clear that years of training and countless battles have honed his abilities to this level.
"Your fighting technique has improved." the commander comments, even though you have lost incredibly. He sees a slight injury on your hip, causing himself to frown. He instinctively wrapped some bandages around the area.
"You treat me too harshly all the time."
With a sigh, you rolled your eyes. It's not like you didn't like being a resonator; you just didn't like all the military training, although you enrolled because of Jiyan himself. You have had a crush on him since you were kids, and when you found out he was joining the Rangers, your main goal was to fight alongside Jiyan, spend time with him, and ensure his safety. Unfortunately, the military duty and training eventually exhausted you. It became dull. It was so boring that you lost interest in your training, resulting in minor injuries.
Jiyan finishes bandaging the wound on your arm and gazes at you, his expression stern.
"You're not focused," he states in a voice that's all too familiar to you.
Although he's lecturing you, there's a tinge of care lingering in his eyes. He knows the root of your current apathy, although he doesn't explicitly say it.
"Training might seem monotonous, but it's crucial. If you don't take it seriously, you won't improve."
"I am better than any of your troupes, and you know it! I do not need this crappy training! I am treated as if I am one of your soldiers, even though they are nowhere near my level!" You said, clenching your teeth.
You felt small every time Jiyan lectured you after a fight. You did not want him to compare you to a simple soldier.
Jiyan lets out an exasperated sigh, your words clearly annoying him.
"I thought we had this conversation before," he says, crossing his arms. "It's not just about strength. Skill alone isn't enough in a real battle."
He steps closer to you, his eyes meeting yours with a stern but concerned look.
"And you might be better than some of the soldiers, but you're not better than me," he adds, his ego not allowing him to ignore such a direct challenge.
"You are so arrogant, even though you are correct."
The commander lets out a small, amused scoff, his demeanor softening somewhat.
"It's not arrogance if it's true," he retorts with a slight smirk. "And besides, you're just as stubborn for challenging my authority."
He lets the serious expression return, as he continues.
"You need to focus on your training, not just rely on your strength."
***
The two of you are making your way back to Jinzhou in silence. Jiyan glances over at you as you walk, his eyes silently assessing your mood.
"You seem more agitated than usual," he comments, breaking the silence. "Are you still upset from our earlier discussion?"
You shook your head in denial. "I have a lot on my mind."
There's a brief pause in the conversation before Jiyan speaks again, his words careful but sincere.
"I won't force you to share anything, but sometimes talking can ease the burden." He glances at you sideways, his eyes meeting yours momentarily. "We've known each other for a long time... You don't have to handle everything on your own."
"I am aware..." You let out a sigh and stopped walking beside Jiyan. "Just... how should I explain this to you?"
Jiyan stops as well, turning to facing you. His head tilts slightly, curiosity piqued by your hesitance.
"Just say it," he encourages, his gaze steady. "Whatever it is, you can be honest with me."
"The real reason I joined the military was so I could spend more time with you and fight alongside you." You made up a lie.
Jiyan's eyes widen slightly at your admission, surprise briefly flashing across his face. He hadn't expected such a declaration from you. He remains silent for a moment, processing your words and the underlying meaning behind them. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he averts his gaze, a hint of a blush rising on his cheeks. It was undeniable that your presence had been a source of comfort and familiarity to him ever since you were kids.
He glances back at you, his expression a mix of embarrassment and warmth. There's a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"You... joined just to spend time with me?" he asks, his tone a little incredulous. "You could have just said that instead of going through all the trouble with the training and..."
He trails off as realization dawns on him.
"It would not be the same, and you know that!" You groaned, "It would be such a hassle to constantly wait for your return to the city; it is easier to simply be with you every day when duty calls."
A small smile tugs at the corners of Jiyan's lips, his earlier surprise replaced by a mix of affection and appreciation for your reasoning.
"You really are something else," he murmurs, his tone filled with both fondness and mild exasperation. "To go through all that trouble just to be by my side... it's both admirable and ridiculous."
"Well, you know me!" You smirked and gently punched his arm.
Jiyan chuckles softly at the familiarity of the gesture, his hand instinctively rubbing the spot you had just hit.
"Yes, I do," he responds, his smile widening. "You've always been a handful, haven't you?"
He pauses for a moment, his gaze resting on your face, his expression softer.
"But I suppose I wouldn't have it any other way," he adds in a quieter tone.
You blinked at him several times, visibly perplexed by his unexpected softness.
Jiyan notices the perplexed expression on your face and lets out a soft chuckle. He knows he just uttered a rather unexpected statement, especially for him.
As he looks at you, a mixture of embarrassment and sincerity on his face, he clarifies, "I mean... having you by my side, even if you're a handful, is something I've gotten used to."
His cheeks turn slightly pink as he admits this, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he gauges your reaction.
"We have been together since we were kids... Not in that way! What I am trying to say is..." You were nervously blurting out words.
Jiyan grins knowingly at your flustered state, enjoying the rare sight of you stumbling uncharacteristically over your words.
He lifts his hand gently to your shoulder, stopping you from further rambling. "I know what you mean."
And he genuinely does. You've been friends, companions, confidants for years, and Jiyan understands the profound bond that has developed.
"I get it," he reassures softly, his gaze now holding an intimate intensity.
"You do?"
Jiyan's hand moves from your shoulder to your chin, tilting it slightly so you're looking directly into his eyes. His gaze is sincere, warm, filled with a familiar yet new intensity.
"I do," he affirms quietly, his voice holding a hint of vulnerability. "Our connection, it runs deeper than mere words can explain, and I... I wouldn't change it for the world."
His fingers lightly brush against your face, a gentle yet intimate gesture.
"Do not say things like that..." You frowned as you met his gaze.
"Why not?" he asked, his tone a mixture of amusement and sincere curiosity. "It's the truth."
He paused, his gaze unwavering as it held yours, before continuing. "I meant what I said. Our bond... it's irreplaceable."
You reddened as you saw him and heard what he said. You had difficulty figuring out whether he was teasing you or did not notice the tone of his voice.
Jiyan's eyes widened slightly as he noticed the flush rising on your cheeks. He hadn't fully realized how his words had come across, or the effect they had on you. But as he felt the warmth under his thumb, and saw how flustered you were, a tinge of understanding washed over him. He held your gaze for a moment, his expression morphing from teasing to genuine affection. He hadn't meant to catch you off guard like this, but there was no denying the truth in his words.
"Let go... will you?"
Jiyan hesitates for a moment, his hand still lingering on your face. He seems reluctant to withdraw his touch, but he complies with your plea.
"Sorry," he apologizes softly, his voice slightly rougher than usual.
The air between you two was filled with a strange tension, the atmosphere charged with unspoken words and feelings. But Jiyan, despite being somewhat flustered, managed to maintain his composure, at least outwardly.
He cleared his throat, an air of aloofness returning. "We should head back," he said, his voice a touch more nonchalant. "It's getting late."
***
As you both walk in silence, the tension between you is palpable. Jiyan is uncharacteristically quiet, his mind seemingly elsewhere. He glances at you every now and then, his gaze lingering before he quickly averts it again.
Soon, rainfall started to gradually fall. You both searched for cover close by, but both failed. As both of you sprinted through the meadow, numerous thoughts ran through your head.
When will you tell Jiyan the full truth? Were you ever planning on doing it? Is it possible for you both to be together?
Love. Making sense of that emotion was difficult.
The rain intensified as you both failed to find shelter. The droplets quickly soaked through your clothes, making the situation more uncomfortable with every passing second.
Jiyan was in a similar state, his usual collected demeanor now slightly less composed. His hair was slick with rainwater, sticking to his face, and his breath came out in soft uneven puffs.
As you ran, the thoughts swirling through your mind were a chaotic jumble, mirroring the turmoil of the storm around you. Love, truth, and the uncertain future were all tangled up in your heart.
You both finally came to a stop under a large tree, its broad branches providing some modicum of comfort and protection from the pouring rain.
Jiyan leaned against the tree, breathless from the dash and the sudden downpour.
He ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face, his gaze finding yours. In the dim light, his eyes held a mixture of exhaustion, confusion, and a hint of something else.
The rain continued to fall around you both, the rhythmic sound of droplets against the tree providing an oddly intimate background. The space under the tree seemed even more isolated as the world beyond became a blur of rain and twilight.
Jiyan's glance wandered over your soaked form, taking in the clinging fabric against your skin, your hair damp and tousled. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words seemed stuck in his throat.
The silence between you both was heavy, the air charged with unspoken thoughts. Jiyan's gaze kept darting to your face, as if searching for something, anything to say.
Yet the words eluded him, the torrential rain mirroring the chaos in his own mind. The situation, the closeness combined with the rain, it was a potent mix, stirring up emotions he perhaps wasn’t ready to confront.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silent glances and the constant drumming of rain, Jiyan found his voice.
"This rain..." he started, his voice more of a murmur than anything else, "it's quite something, hm?"
His attempt at casual conversation was half-hearted, a poor cover for the palpable tension between the two of you.
"What are you on about?" You frowned at him, visibility confused by his idiotic comment.
Jiyan let out a soft sigh at your blunt reply, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light.
"Small talk," he deadpanned. "I'm making small talk because the silence is deafening."
He shifted his weight against the tree, his gaze remaining fixed on you. His usual cool demeanor was beginning to crack under the mounting tension and the close proximity.
Jiyan's gaze had unintentionally lingered on your body, the wet clothes clinging to your figure in a way that left little to the imagination. But the moment he realized what he was doing, he quickly looked away, a hint of embarrassment on his face.
"I... uh... didn't mean..." he mumbled, his voice trailed off as he searched for the right words to salvage the situation.
"My eyes are up here, you know?" You said, covering yourself as much as you could with your arms and knees against your chest.
Jiyan's face flushed at your comment, and he glanced back at you, his eyes meeting yours.
He knew he was caught red-handed, but he had hoped you hadn't noticed the brief lapse in judgment.
"Right... sorry. It's the rain. Your clothes..." he trailed off again, the sight of you, now trying to cover yourself more, making it difficult for him to form coherent sentences.
"What the hell do I say to that?"
He paused, realizing he was making the situation worse with every word. He closed his eyes and steadied himself with a deep breath.
"I swear I'm not usually like this," he said quietly, his voice holding a mixture of apology and frustration.
Jiyan watched as you settled into a more comfortable position, your head resting on your knees, your eyes fixed on the falling raindrops. The sound of the rain was a soothing background, creating a moment of serenity despite the chaotic situation.
He remained silent, his own gaze shifting between you and the rain, his mind caught in a tangle of thoughts and emotions. He wanted to say something, to break the silence, but the words eluded him once more.
***
"Do you ever think about me?"
Jiyan's attention snapped back to you, his eyes widening slightly at your blunt question. The question hung in the air between you both, its weight settling in Jiyan's chest.
He took a moment to collect himself, his gaze never leaving your face. "Of course I do," he admitted quietly. "All the time..."
He paused, his voice dropping to a murmur, "More than I probably should."
You slowly turned your head towards him, "R-Really...?"
Jiyan met your gaze, the honesty in his words reflected in his eyes. "Yes, really," he affirmed, his voice low and quiet.
He held your gaze, his expression open and vulnerable. It was as if the rain and the isolated quiet of the clearing had stripped away his usual aloofness, leaving only raw honesty.
"I think about you more than I care to admit," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
The air between you was thick with tension, the rain providing a backdrop to the quiet confessions.
Jiyan swallowed, his throat dry, as he continued, "It's hard not to when you're so... everything. You're just... there, in a way I can't shake."
He stopped, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding or response, the words he was speaking surprising even him.
"Jiyan..." You closed your eyes and turned your head back to face the front. It was your time to pour the truth out in the open now.
"I did not join the military because I wanted to spend more time with you, or because I enjoyed the adrenaline." I went on, "I did it because I liked you, and I still do."
Jiyan felt his heart skip a beat at your confession, your words echoing loudly in the quiet space between you.
He hadn't expected such honesty, such a direct admission of feelings. His mind reeled as he tried to process your words, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the right response.
"You... what?" he managed to get out, his voice betraying his surprise.
"You heard me..." You replied, your own voice cracking from nervousness. Your palms were sweating and your head was lightly spinning. You did it. You confessed.
Jiyan pushed himself away from the tree, moving a few steps closer to you, the distance between you feeling like an insurmountable chasm in his current state.
"You're serious?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. He needed to hear it again, needed to confirm that this wasn't just a product of his imagination, his deepest wish playing out in his mind.
Jiyan's gaze never wavered as he stood over you, forcing you to meet his eyes. The close proximity, combined with the intense intensity of his stare, made the air feel even more charged.
"Say it again," he urged, his voice rough around the edges.
"What...?"
Jiyan's eyes narrowed slightly, his patience slowly wearing thin. "Don't play coy now," he said, his voice strained. "You know what I'm asking."
He took another step closer, towering over you, his gaze firm. "Say it. Say you like me. Again."
You stood up and said, shyly, "I like you." You were now more aware of what you had admitted just a minute before.
No matter how many times Jiyan repeated those words, they still held the same power, the same weight. But hearing them directly, from you - it was different, it was real.
He swallowed, his hands clenching and unclenching subconsciously at his side. He wanted to reach out, to close the distance between you, but he held back, his heart still struggling to process this new information.
"How long?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost breathless.
"Does it matter? Its not like its useful information-"
"It matters to me, damn it," he retorted, his voice a low growl. "You drop a bomb like this on me and expect me not to care how long you've felt this way?"
Jiyan's eyes darkened at your blunt response. It mattered to him. The length of your feelings, the depth of your confession - all of it mattered.
You tightened your fists and turned away from him. "Been... a while..." You began, but then added, "Since... well, forever."
He drew in a sharp breath, the single word reverberating through his mind. He hadn't realized, hadn't even considered the possibility that your feelings could run so deep, so long.
He reached out, his hand gently gripping your shoulder, trying to turn you back to face him. "Look at me," he said, his voice hoarse.
"Look, I am sorry; I shouldn't have said anything! I probably made things too awkward between us right now, and you hate me! You will never look at me again, and you will replace my military position with someone else-" you were nervously blurting out words and avoiding his gaze.
Jiyan listened to your nervous, incoherent rambling, his heart constricting more with each word. You were panicked, trying to backtrack, to retract your confession.
He gripped your shoulder harder, forcing you to turn to him. The intensity in his eyes was almost fierce, his expression one of pure determination.
"Stop," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Stop trying to take it back. You can't... un-say something like this."
His grip on your shoulder loosened, but his hands remained on you, silently anchoring you in place. His eyes roamed over your face, absorbing the sight of you, your eyes avoiding his.
"You don't understand," he said, his voice suddenly thick, choked with emotions. "I could never hate you, could never look at you any differently. I..."
His words trailed off, his throat tightening as he grappled with expressing the tangle of feelings in his chest.
He drew in a shaky breath, his thumbs gently massaging your shoulders in an unconscious gesture of comfort.
"Goddamn it," he muttered under his breath. "You don't know what you do to me."
The moment the words left his lips, his control snapped.
⚠
Jiyan's hands moved up from your shoulders to cradle your face, his fingers threading into your damp hair. His eyes burned with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, and then he was kissing you.
It was a rough, impatient kiss, his frustration and pent-up emotions poured into the contact. He pulled you closer, his body pressed against yours, his touch desperate and possessive
The kiss deepened, his tongue seeking entry to your mouth, a silent plea for more, for everything. His hands wandered, one moving down to the small of your back, pulling you closer, the other moving down to grip your hip, holding you in place, as if afraid you'd slip away.
His lips left yours, trailing a path of kisses down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He inhaled deeply, his nose burying into the crook of your shoulder, his senses filled with the scent of you, the feel of you under his touch.
He pressed you back into the tree, pinning you between the hard surface and his body. His kisses became more frantic, his teeth nipping at your skin, his hands roaming over your damp clothes, as if he couldn't get enough, as if he was trying to brand you, to make you his.
His mouth found yours again, his kiss fiercer, more relentless. He pressed himself fully against you, the hard planes of his body molding against you, his thigh finding its way between your legs, creating an intimate friction that made you gasp into his mouth.
The rain continued to fall around you, the sound a distant background to the chaotic beating of your hearts. Jiyan's kisses were becoming more demanding, his body pressed against yours, his touch possessive.
He moved his mouth to your ear, his voice low and rough. "You... drive me crazy," he whispered, his words punctuated with breathless kisses along your jawline.
"W-wait Jiyan..." You were melting into his touch.
Jiyan seemed to hear your words, recognizing the plea for a pause in your voice, though he was reluctant to release you.
His lips left your earlobe, and he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. The heat in his gaze hadn't abated, but there was a hint of uncertainty now, a question in his eyes.
"What is it?" His voice was gruff, his chest heaving against yours as he forced himself to slow down, to give you space to speak.
"You..." You were out of breath and energy to coherent a sentence. Your head was dizzy from the situation.
His head dropped to your shoulder, his forehead resting against the skin of your neck, his body practically slumped against yours.
He was fighting to control his breathing, to slow the racing of his heart. His hands still gripped your hips, thumbs rubbing into the flesh of your waist, a reflexive need to keep you close.
"I know," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "I know, I know."
His eyes flickered over your face, tracing the features he knew so well, yet somehow seemed completely new at this moment.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his hands loosening their grip on your hips, shifting to a lighter touch, as he struggled to find his composure. "I didn't mean to be so... rough."
"In combat, in... kissing.." you added teasingly.
Jiyan chuckled, a self-deprecating sound, at your words.
"Old habits," he admitted, his thumb brushing over your hip bone in a tender gesture. "In combat, I'm all instinct. With you..."
He paused, his eyes lowering to where his thumb was tracing small circles on your skin. "With you, it's hard to hold back."
"Good to know." You gave him a blunt response.
His gaze snapped back up at your response, his eyes narrowing, a hint of a challenge in their depths.
"Careful," he warned, his voice dropping an octave. "You shouldn't tempt me like that."
Eventually you looked down at the ground, clearing your throat. "Jiyan... what are we? What were we all this time?"
Jiyan's gaze followed yours, his eyes also falling to the rain-splattered ground. The question you've asked lingered, heavy between you.
"I... don't know."
His voice held a hint of uncertainty, a hint of the confusion that swirled in his mind.
"We were friends. We were comrades." He listed them off, each title feeling too simple, too lacking.
"I... care about you, obviously." He continued, lifting his gaze back to your face.
"Obviously." You interrupted with a hint of sarcasm in your tone.
A small, rueful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Yes, obviously," he echoed, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it.
He let out a huff, his hands dropping from your hips to his sides. "It's more than that, though," he said, his eyes searching yours, as if looking for understanding or validation.
"We have a... connection. A bond, deeper than just friendship." He paused, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the right words. "We trust each other. We... care about each other's well-being. We've been through a war together."
His words trailed off, his eyes still holding your gaze.
"We... make a good team," his voice was softer now, almost vulnerable.
His eyes held a mixture of emotions - uncertainty, vulnerability, affection. He was laying bare his thoughts, his feelings, to you, silently hoping you understood what he was trying to say.
"This cannot be the final conclusion after you just kissed me until i almost dropped." You crossed your arms in disbelief.
Jiyan couldn't help the small, wry smile that tugged at his lips at your unexpected response.
"No, it isn't," he agreed, his eyes still holding yours. "It isn't the only conclusion."
He took a step closer to you, closing the small distance he'd created when he let go of your hips. His hands reached out and gently took yours, his thumbs running over your knuckles.
"There are... other possibilities," he continued, lifting your hands to the level of his face, his gaze lingering on them for a moment.
His fingers traced the contours of your fingers, mapping the lines and curves as if committing them to memory. Then, he brought them to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles.
"Possibilities that involve... more kissing," he said, his voice low, the smile still clinging to his mouth.
His eyes flicked up to yours, watching your reaction to his words, a hint of the raw desire he'd displayed earlier returning to his gaze.
You nervously chuckled as a blush spread on your cheeks. You never met a flirty Jiyan before - the one you definitely don't find unpleasant, but rather amusing instead.
A genuine smile spread across Jiyan's face at the sound of your chuckle. It was a sound he didn't hear often enough from you, and he relished it, treasuring the moments when you let your guard down.
"You should laugh more often," he commented, his smile still fixed in place. "It suits you."
He moved closer, his body almost pressed against yours again. One of his hands moved to your face, his fingers tracing the line of your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle in comparison to the intensity of his earlier actions.
"Smile more, laugh more," he murmured, his tone shifting to a soft, tender one. His fingers continued their path down your chin, his touch light and caressing. "And maybe... kiss me more too."
You smiled, throwing your hands around his neck.
A low, rough sound escaped from his lips, half-laughter, half-desire, as you clung to him. He buried his face into the crook of your shoulder again, inhaling your scent, now mixed with the rain and the faint tinge of sweat.
The ambiguity of your relationship, your friendship and comradeship - it all seemed to fall into place, the lines between them blurred and indistinct.
Jiyan held you close, his grip tightening around your waist. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, another to your neck, his lips trailing a path to your jaw.
As you clung to each other in the rain, the world around you seemed to fade, the only tangible realities being the heat of each other's bodies and the pounding of your hearts.
First post woohoo !
@drxcorelibre - do not steal, plagiarise or repost my posts on any other social media. This is my only fanfiction account.
