Final fantasy x reader one shots

Wedge

Stray Hearts

Requested by -XDDCC-

You've never been one to refuse a favor, especially not for a friend. So when Jessie asked if you could help her with some deliveries, you didn't think twice. Sector 7 was bustling as usual, with people milling about, the smell of street food wafting through the air, and the hum of machinery in the background. Carrying the boxes wasn't too challenging, though they were a bit awkwardly shaped.

As you navigated through the crowded streets, you turned a corner and collided with something—no, someone. The boxes tumbled from your grasp, spilling their contents onto the ground. You looked up to see a familiar face, though his expression was one of surprise and mild concern.

"Whoa, sorry about that!" Wedge exclaimed, quickly bending down to help you gather the scattered items. "I didn't see you coming around the corner."

"It's okay," you replied, slightly flustered. "I should have been paying more attention."

He gave you a friendly smile, his round face framed by a few stray locks of brown hair that escaped from under his bandana. "No harm done. Let me help you with these."

You both worked together to repack the boxes. As you did, you noticed Wedge had a few cans of cat food peeking out from a bag slung over his shoulder.

"Feeding the cats?" you asked, nodding toward the bag.

"Yeah," he said, looking a bit sheepish. "I've got a few strays that hang around, and I try to take care of them when I can. They've sort of become my unofficial pets."

You smiled, intrigued. "That's really nice of you. I love cats too."

Wedge's face lit up. "Really? That's great! Not everyone around here is a fan of them, you know. They say they attract trouble, but I think they're just misunderstood."

You nodded in agreement. "Cats are amazing. They're independent but affectionate when they want to be. I've always found their personalities fascinating."

"Exactly!" Wedge beamed. "You know, I don't meet many people who appreciate them the way I do. It's nice to find someone who gets it."

The conversation flowed easily from there, with both of you sharing stories about the cats you'd known. Wedge told you about his current group of strays—there was a sleek black one he called Midnight, a playful tabby named Stripe, and a shy calico he affectionately referred to as Patches.

After a while, you realized you'd been talking for quite some time. "I should get these boxes to where they need to go," you said, reluctantly.

Wedge stood up, his own errands seemingly forgotten. "I can help if you want. I'm done with my rounds for now."

"That would be great, thanks," you replied. Together, you made your way through the sector, chatting all the while.

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself running into Wedge more and more often. Sometimes it was a brief encounter on the street, other times it was longer conversations at Seventh Heaven where he'd join you for a drink. Each time, you felt a growing connection, a sense of ease and comfort in his presence.

One day, as you were heading home after another delivery for Jessie, you spotted Wedge sitting on a bench, a couple of cats lounging at his feet. You walked over, unable to resist the opportunity to see him again.

"Hey, Wedge," you greeted, sitting down beside him. The cats looked up lazily, then went back to their nap.

"Hey, y/n!" Wedge responded, smiling broadly. "Done with deliveries for the day?"