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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 10 months ago

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When They Call You Clingy So You Distance Yourself| Maknaeline Pt3

Warnings: Mentioning of needles in a medical sense, Cursing, Mentioning of death

Pt1 Pt2 Hyungline (xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

JISUNG|

The room was bright, and everyone of Jisung's senses were clouded slightly when he woke up.

"Where-"

He looked up to see Chan looking at him concerned.

"You passed out and hit your head. You've been out for a minute. You worried us."

Jisung's face scrunched as he looked at Chan. "I didn't mean to...why did I..." The events of right before his fainting spell came to him at once and Chan watched as his face slowly crumpled.

"N-No no! Jisung don't cry please! She's okay! She's okay!"

Jisung's heart rate monitor kept hiking up. "St-Stop ly-lying to me! Sh-She's gone!" He wailed- his heart rate reaching extreme levels that spurred the appearance of three nurses.

They tried to calm him down and Chan talked to a nurse about giving him something to calm him down.

A subtle sedative was injected into one of Jisung's flailing limbs and within a few minutes he was calmed down enough to be considered safe.

Chris sat by Jisung's bed as he fell in and out of sleep, the exhaustion of the past day hit him.

He looked at his phone as Minho was calling him. He looked at the boba eyes boy, who's eyes were closed in what he was assumed was sleep.

"Hello...hey...yeah we're still here, Jisung passed out...yeah...she's okay...I've been splitting my time between his room and her's...both of her femurs are fractured and she's cut up and bruised, and her arm is broken but she'll be okay...I'm trying to wait until he's calm enough to bring him over...he won't even listen to me he's that distraught..." Chris sounded tired. "I hate to them both hurting...I'm going to cancel to schedules...no one should have to work after this...maybe apply for hiatus of Jisung..." Chan stood up and looked at Jisung who was staring back at him with wide eyes. "Minho I'll call you back."

Han sat up and looked at his elder. "Y/N...Y/N? Where is she-" He swung his feet over the bed, not even flinching at the frozen floor as they connected with his bare feet.

Chris guided Jisung by the shoulder and brought him to room a few halls down, nodding politely at the ladies at the desk; silently praying they wouldn't point out that it was past the time for any types of visitors. He led him in front of your door, and knocked lightly. "She might be asleep...I have to run back to the dorms real quick to grab you a change of clothes and update the boys they're worried sick."

Jisung nodded and looked at the bags under Chris's eyes and saw how dark and droopy they were. He looked like a tired dad, and that only hurt Jisung more.

Chris gave him a hug and gave him a peck on the head. "I'll be back soon, Jisung." As he walked away Jisung immediately walked into the room. His heart dropped when he saw you laying there on the bed- legs elevate and your arms as well, your eyes closed.

He almost couldn't recognize your face at first, with the purplish bruise and large cut on your cheek.

He walked over quietly and sat down in the chair next yo your bed, just quietly weeping next to you.

Tears of joy, relief, praise, sadness, pain, and heartbreak.

God thank you. Thank you. Thanl you.

He continued to weep quietly, as he reached for your hand on your uninjured arm to hold it.

He felt calloused and scabbed skin when he put his hand in it and looked down through his tear.

His index finger traced the dark scabbed that decorated your palm, and he felt a hollow pain in his heart. Despite all the other injuries this one hurt him the most, knowing that he was the direct cause for this specific one.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked over to see the love of your life crying over you hand.

"JiJi?" Your voice was raspy, and he instead of saying anything he started placing kisses on your palm in a silent apology.

"It's okay, love. I'm okay."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Y/N...it's my fault."

You shook your head viciously and winced with the neck pain; mentally kicking yourself for moving at all.

"Its not your fault Jisung. You weren't the one drunk driving. Nor were to the one distracted behind the wheel. Things like this happen in life; you just have to be grateful to be the ones that get through it." You swallowed and started blinking back tears. "I'm sorry I worried you so much-" You croaked. "Channie said you fainted and hit your head? Are you okay?" Your voice was heartbreakingly warm, and Jisung couldn't fathom why you were so kind to him at a time like this. When you were hurting so much physically, mentally and emotionally; you were still concerned about him.

He kissed your palm again and let out a shaky breath. "Stay with me."

You give out a small chuckle, but it hurts your chest so you decide just to smile.

"Sungie...I can't even walk." You joked. "My femurs are pretty messed up right now." Jisung continued to gently hold your hand as if it was something priceless; something extremely fragile and breakable. He rested his forehead against is and murmured.

"Then when you can walk again, don't leave. Stay. Cling to me. Walk towards me instead of away."

You smile. "Walk towards you dressed in white?" You joked.

"Yes." He said with 1000% seriousness in his voice. "I thought I lost you. That was a pain that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. If I ever lose you again...I don't know how I would deal with it...if I could...especially if I knew you left by choice..."

You felt your heart thump at a faster rate and cursed it quietly since it would bring the inevitable visit of a concerned nurse.

"I'm sorry. I truly am." He said, his eyes looking at you. They softly traced all the injuries, all though none of them compared to what he was feeling in his heart, what you were feeling in yours.

"I love you." You said quietly, those three simple words filled with so much that it quelled the negative feelings that were churning in his heart.

And even though he knew it wouldn't be something he could ever truly forgive himself for - even if you did - he was selfish enough to push that aside if it meant that he could be with you.

If it meant you would stay with him.

He kissed your palm once more, before laying his head near yours. His nose gently nuzzling your face.

"I love you more."

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

FELIX|

When Felix walked into your home, he wasn't expecting you to be there.

But what he defintely was not expecting at all was you struggling to put together a new gaming station for him, looking at a super complicated instruction sheet for a chair and while sitting next to a bag filled with other electronics.

"Y/N? What are you doing?"

You turned as the rich and deep voice you loved so much reached your ears. It had been days since you had gotten to hear it.

"It-It was supposed to be a surprise." You said standing up, bracing yourself for him to yell at you, or scold you. "I'm sor-"

You almost had the wind knocked out of you as Felix threw himself into your arms, inhaling deeply.

You hugged him back, feeling just how much he needed it.

His breathing was shaking as you heard him apologize quietly.

He reached for your hands to see if they were red from cleaning so much.

"I'm sorry baby. But sorry doesn't fix it. So what can I do-"

"I love you." You said. "I understand you were angry...it's understandable. So I went to go fix it!"

You pulled away and Felix was in disbelief of how positive and sunshiny you were. He would consider you even more like sunshine than he was.

And with that he felt and overwhelming sense of love and appreciation to the one in front of him, as he watched you explain to him what you had been doing the past few days (odd freelance work for extra money) and how you had went to buy him replacements for all the things you had ruined by accident.

"I thought you'd like this one cause it was blue but I'm not sure..." You mumbled. "It wasn't as expensive as you last one so I'm sorry if it-"

You looked up to see Felix crying with a smile on his face as he bent down to look at you while you knelt on the ground organizing pieces.

"Lix, are you okay?"

He nodded, his freckles scrunching up as he smiled even more, reaching to cup you face with his cool hands.

"I'm more than okay, Y/N." He said. "More than okay."

You looked at him with wide eyes and he couldn't help but plant a bunch of kisses on your face as a musical giggle escaped the lips he soon captured in his own.

You looked up at him as he rolled over onto the ground next to you, grasping your hand in his.

"I bought replacements angel..." He said, a smile playing on his face. "So now that we have two... we can take my old PC from storage and I can teach you how to play...?"

You looked at him. "But isn't gaming time your you time? I thought thats why you were so upset, since I had ruined something that was giving you detox time..."

He shook his head. "I had gotten into an argument with Hyunjin..." He said rubbing his thumb across your hand. "And I didn't manage my anger well towards you. I'm sorry, again."

He turned to face you while resting on his elbow.

"You're too good you know?" He murmured quietly, moving a few strands of hair out of your face.

"Lixxie...you're entire fandom call you sunshine..." You say, feeling your face heat up.

"Well that's because they don't know you well enough. But once they do they'll realize that you're the true sunshine in the Stray Kids world. Since you're my world..." He said leaning over again, resting his elbows on either side of you as he connected his lips to yours again; both sets upturned into a smile.

"I could never be mad you love...how would it even be possible?" He asked as he continued to press his lips against your face in a cute, but chaste manner. "It is impossible."

You giggled as he blew raspberries on you and you got up and looked at the boy you loved so much, knowing that you meant just as much to him as he did to you.

And you knew that you could rest assured that you would be okay no matter what.

"Do you want to play games...or cuddle?" Felix asked, pulling you up, already reaching for the blanket you kept draped over your desk chair; knowing your answer would be exactly what he was hoping it would be.

"Cuddles." You said clinging to him. Intending to do that for the rest of the night.

And Felix intended to make sure you kept true to that promise.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

SEUNGMIN|

The crowd was static with a murmured excitement. The result of hundred of Stays conversing just before the group walked on stage.

You made your way to the front of the arena. After selling the ticket you had intended to use to get back at Seungmin; you had made quite a bit of money from the upsale and the desire of some crazed stan.

And you put that money towards flying across the world, to come to this concert, and surprise him.

Hopefully easing the growing rumors but mostly easing his heart.

You called the Kids manager, asking to get you in closer to the front, and was praying that Seungmin would be able to spot you. Or a fan would spot you and it would spark the little "Where's Waldo" game that would get back to him - or more importantly the camera men.

You just wanted Seungmin to be assured you weren't leaving him.

Rather you hoped after tonight it would be the complete opposite.

As security pushed their way through the crowd with you encircled in them people tried to peak through to see you.

When a few curious eyes met yours you waved, and those eyes widened in the ones who recognized you.

It was almost like they were relieved.

And just with that you could tell how much the fandom cared about the boy.

Almost as much as you cared about them while knowing all of them on a personal friend level. And an even more intimate level with Seungmin.

The crowd buzzed with energy up until the moments to boys ran out on stage. You were close enough to see just how tired Seungmin was; but he still put on a smile.

There was almost know build up as they immediately started performing, Seungmin on the complete opposite side of the stage. The crowd was extremely loud- so yelling out to the closet member to you - Hyunjin - wasn't going to do you any good, even if he could easily recognize the voice of one of his closest friends' significant others; he wouldn't be able to hear it over the sea of others voices and screams.

So you decided to head back towards the dressing room.

Seungmin returned to his dressing room after the show, his heart racing with excitement after the show. But he still had that underlying hurt.

Should I call her? I miss her so much I'm imagining her perfume...

He stopped and turned his nose upwards. Y/N?

He rushed into his dressing room and saw you standing up, folding one of his shirts.

He immediately ran into your arms, burying his head into your hair, a wet spot forming on the crown of your head.

"Baby...are you really here?" He whispered, the vibration of his voice tickling you slightly.

You nod and pull back; feeling a bit proud to straight out apologize so instead get to what you came here for.

He looked at you as you squared your shoulders and adjusted your dress so it covered you properly as you knelt down onto the ground.

"Jagiya...?" He said instinctively kneeling down with you reaching for you, but instead you motioned for him to stay standing.

He looked at you with confusion, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck to his exposed collar bone, making you even more nervous than you were a second ago.

You pulled a small box out of the pocket in your dress and noticed Seungmin's puppy eyes widening as you held it out to him with a shaky hand.

"Marry me, MinMin?"

His jaw twitched and he just stared at you in shock and you fumbled to open up the box, a simple deep gray colored band laying in there.

"Um...I mean will you marry me? Please...?" You rubbed your forehead feeling your face get warm at Seungmin's extended silence.

"No." You felt your heart nearly crumple in embarrassment until he corrected himself.

"I mean yes- like no as is in you - like - yes I want to marry you but- just get up from the floor Jagiya..."

You stood up and you held the box in your hands, and they were still trembling, and he wrapped his large hands around yours.

"I meant no as a reaction to you proposing instead of me. I wanted propose to you. I mean...I'm the man in the relationship and-"

"I'm breaking societal norms, Minnie. If we both love each other why does it matter?" You ask bluntly, earning a laugh from Seungmin.

"And I'm proud of you for that, even if it'll earn me relentless teasing from the guys." He laughed out, a few tears falling from his face in happiness, as he rested his forehead onto yours.

"These past few weeks," Seungmin started, "Have made me realize that it's me who is clingy to you." He says, kissing your nose, lightly. "I felt that I lost myself when the prospect of losing you was in front of me."

You looked at him and knew this was his apology.

"I don't want to leave you. And I don't ever want you to leave me. That's why I got this for you." You said taking the ring out. Seungmin pulled back and stepped into character, placing a hand over his mouth in mock shock and daintily putting his hand out for you to slide the ring onto his finger.

He couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face as he watched your face be completely painted in a blinding happiness. He couldn't help but kiss the lips that were stretched so wide.

"Do I have permission to break the news to Stay via instagram post?" He hums. "They've been suspecting we broke up due to your concert absences..." He looked at you, his eyes wide and bright.

"Yes of course, as long as you tell the guys in person. I want to see their reaction. I'm sure both Stay and the guys will be amused that I proposed." You winked.

"Yeah," Seungmin chuckled as he looked at the ring with a deep admiration and love. "They will be...speaking of this though. You must have paid an unecessary fortune for flying here, buying the ticket, hotel stay...and you request off work during concert season so you aren't getting paid. Where did you get the money? If it was from your saving let me fill it up again." His top lip curled in as he waited for your answer.

"Uh...you could say I made a profit of sorts..." You mumbled, thinking about the slightly illegal act of scalping the ticket price.

Your fiancé tilted his head to the side, waiting for an explanation, but the deciding to forgo it with a chuckle and just kiss the woman he loved and missed so much. The one he'd spend the rest of his life clinging to.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

JEONGIN|

You stood there the needle in your hand as Jeongin slowly walked towards you.

"Y/N? What are you...?"

You disposed the needle and adjusted your shorts to cover up your thigh.

"I was taking insulin." You said walking past him out of the bathroom, to go grab a paper towel since the towel in your bathroom was in the wash.

You felt the presence of your boyfriend behind you.

And you could instantly tell he felt bad, so you turned to him, his dark eyes wandering over you as his lips turned into his recognizable pout.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Innie..." You said standing there. "It wasn't right for me to ignore your calls. Or blow up your phone in the first pla-"

"Stop." His voice was firm and missing the playful undertone it almost always had. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was me."

He swallowed. "I was embarrassed because of the guys and their teasing. And I called you childish when it was really me who was being childish for caring so much about people recognizing how much we love each other. How much you love me..." He's within arms length and you can feel his cool breath hit your face. "How much I love you. I'm sorry."

For the rest of the day you and Jeongin lounged around your house, him taking a nap on you lap at one point due to the pent-up exhaustion of the previous week.

You had shake him awake gently when you realized it was time for you to inject youself once more since you had finished eating a while ago but pushed off medicating yourself so Jeongin could get some rest.

He opened his eyes and whined as he shut them again, burrowing further into you.

"Baby, I have to get up and take my medicine."

He immediately shot up and the expectant yet worried look on his faced caused you to grin.

"Do you wanna help?" His head bobbed up and down as you got up, pulling the mischievous eyed boy with you towards the bathroom.

As you got everything, he observed with a bubbling anxiety.

"You won't like...die from this or anything right?" His voice was soft, lacking the confidence it usually carried.

"No, Jeongin, I won't die from my diabetes." You laugh. "Do you think I would let it take me before I get married and have kids, and grandkids and live." You say this purposefully to hint to Jeongin that it was him you imagined this with. Hoping it solidified his assurance in your forgiveness; since he had been asking all day if he was truly forgiven.

As if its his fault I have diabetes... You laughed to yourself.

You placed the glucometer in his hand and held out the container of strips.

"Just place that in there." You instruct softly, and he does so showing it to you to double check.

"Okay, so now we have to put the lancet in...here..." You say, your boyfriend focusing on placing it in correctly.

He takes your hand in his and when he presses the button to prick you he winces rather than you.

"Are you okay?!" He frets, looking at the extremely miniscule - too miniscule - drop of blood on your ring finger.

"Mm. Squeeze a little more out?"

He gently squuezed enough blood out of your hand and tested you blood sugar - then measuring out the appropriate amount of insulin and pulling your shorts up slightly to give you your injection with gentle hands after cleaning the area.

You watched him focus on the task at hand so seriously; his brows furrowed, and tongue sticking out of his lip slightly. He was so close you could smell his shampoos and count his eyelashes if you wanted to. You felt a strange longing for him even though he was right here. You missed him even if his body was right here next to, gently making sure he didn't leave any marks.

And you couldn't deny how much you loved him. So much that you had to express it.

"I love you forever, Innie..." Through his lashes he studied your expression. Feeling the love exude from you.

"I love you, forever and even longer." He said, his face breaking out into a smile. "My beautiful princess."

You laugh and that causes Innie to laugh as well.

"You're too sweet, love." You said placing a kiss under his eye.

"Does that mean I need to get you another dose of insulin?" He asked, looking up at you with a devilish grin.

This time you place the kiss on his lips his eyelashes fluttering shut as he sighed with contenment.

"I think I can manage."

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@sleeping143 @artist2181 @abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jaythegay26 @gay-littlemushroomlover @armystay89 @sara6767776 @wildtokay

@kyrennetwork @stay-tiny-things

@piscesrising01 @0325tiny @hannamoon143

@chimchxmni @ka0ila @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

#skz imagines #skz x reader #skz angst #skz stay #skz seungmin #skz jeongin #skz jisung #skz felix #seungmin angst #han angst #jeongin angst #felix angst

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kathryn-maraudersversion · 26 days ago

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Serpents and Stars Pt 6

Summary: It’s been four days since you destroyed them. Four days of silence of pretending you don’t care. And then James Potter storms into your life like a hurricane and demands the truth. And this time, you can’t run from it.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders (James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin) x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Warnings: More hurt so much hurt but I promise there will be comfort in the next part. Please forgive me guys

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9

You should have known he wouldn’t let it go. You had convinced yourself that it was over. That James, Sirius, and Remus had finally gotten the message. That they had given up on you. You should have known better.

Because James Potter never quits.

So, when he stormed into the empty Transfiguration classroom, slammed the door behind him, and turned to face you with fire in his eyes, you knew you were screwed.

James stood in front of the door, arms crossed, blocking your only exit.

“You’re going to talk to me,” he said, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “Right. Now.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending your heart wasn’t pounding. “Get out of my way, Potter.”

“No.”

Your jaw clenched. “Move.”

He didn’t.

Instead, he stepped closer. Too close.

“Four days,” he said. “Four days, and I let you have your space. I let you pretend like you didn’t just rip us apart. But I’m done waiting, sweetheart.”

You scoffed. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

His laugh was humourless. “Bullshit.”

You exhaled sharply, crossing your arms. “What do you want me to say, James? That I regret it? That I miss you?” You forced a smirk. “Sorry, but I don’t.”

Something flickered in his hazel eyes. He took another step forward, and before you could react, he reached out and grabbed your wrist.

Your breath caught because his touch wasn’t rough or angry. It was gentle. Firm, but careful, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

Your stomach dropped and the way he was looking at you, you knew something bad was coming.

James’ voice was quiet now.

“You think you’re the only one who’s ever wanted to ruin something good before it could ruin you, Sirius and his family for example and don't even get me started on things with moony?”

Your throat tightened. “James-”

“No,” he said, his grip on your wrist tightening just slightly. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to act like you don’t care, like you don’t feel this-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Because I know you do. I know it, and you know it, so stop lying to me.”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire.

“I don’t-”

“Yes, you do,” James cut you off. “Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have tried so damn hard to push us away.”

Your breath was coming too fast now.

He took one more step forward, and suddenly, you were trapped between him and the desk.

And Merlin, he was so close.

Close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. Close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

You wanted to lean in. You wanted to give in. But if you did, there would be no turning back.

So, you did the only thing you could.

You shoved him away.

James stumbled back a step, his eyes widening at the force of it.

“I can’t,” you whispered.

He stilled.

“Why?” His voice was quiet. Almost desperate.

You shook your head.

“Because you’ll break me.”

Silence. James exhaled slowly.

And when he spoke, his voice was steady. Sure.

“We won’t sweetheart, I’d rather die.”

Authors Note: Gang this is insane also not me spoiling yall with two updates in one day

Taglist: @amatoanima @flaviaandbooks @nymanas @bridkesby @yvessentials @maraudersgirlsposts @treefairy-28 @navs-bhat @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @zoleea-exultant @hermionelove @starmaniii @kitcat912 @hopperbopper @forgottenandfree

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itstheghostofmypast · 10 months ago

Text

Awake - (Hyung Line)

separate members Ateez x (F)Reader

Summary: You went to sleep after a HUGE (not really) fight, only, when you went to sleep you were alone, not in the comforting arms of your lover.

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4.2k

Est.Read Time: 21 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

Maknae Line: Here

A/N: A special thank you to my one and only @edenesth , for helping me out with this- I swear for the life in me Yeosang still confuses me and Hwa seems to sweet to argue with (yeah i know that aint true) .I'll be updating my requests soon and uploading the next chapter of meow soon, too!

Kim Hongjoong

Waking up next to Hongjoong was as rare as going to bed with him. Considering he'd come to bed at an ungodly hour, unlike you, and leave at an ungodly hour, waking up way before you did- in theory, however, the man barely slept four hours. Then there were times when he'd choose to stay at the studio or the dorm. So often, you'd receive a text about his location and that was it- and for so long it was okay- until it wasn't.

There's no real reason or premise behind how it started, but all she remembers is that he had come home in the middle of the night, and ironically she had been watching a film at the time. Now, the reaction could've been sweet, could've been filled with love, but the words had left her sooner than she could stop them,

"You know, you should really take care of yourself too."

That was all it took for him to stare at her blankly before turning around and slamming the door shut behind him, leaving her wincing in regret on the couch, the same very couch she had cried on, lying across its expanse, trying to get in touch with him through text or call, only for her tears to dry up and eyes to close, falling asleep on the couch.

What you did not expect was to wake up in your bed, on your back blinking up at the ceiling, shades of golden seeping through the cracks of the curtains, illuminating the dancing specs across the room. With a heavy sigh you turned your head to glance at the usual empty side when you were greeted by an unusual sight. The same blonde man you had cried your heart out for last night was laying there, knocked out cold, lips slightly parted, hands folded on his belly as he lay on his back- Hongjoong was one weird dude. With a sigh you turn to lay on your side, staring at him, taking in his tired features, the dark circles under his eyes, his chapped lips, the way his brows were slightly furrowed. God, you definitely loved an idiot.

Taking a few more minutes, you thought to yourself, before letting out a sigh, at least he was home now, at least he was resting. With that in mind, you slowly pushed yourself up, sitting up and rubbing your face, trying to erase the remnant traces of sleep. You were about to slip out of bed when something tugged at your shirt, causing you to turn to lock eyes with your sleepy love, his gaze filled with some form of remorse and guilt.

“Don't…go.” his hoarse voice rasped across the silent room, her shoulder slumped at the fatigue in his tone, before shaking her head and moving closer to him, letting him pull her closer, enough for her to rest her head against his shoulder, a hand placed on his heart, appreciating the steady beat- his own rhythm for her.

“I’m sorry…”

“You should be.” she mumbled, turning to bury her face in the crook of his neck, feeling him draw her closer, the arm around her waist tightening, as if he were afraid that she’d disappear. Not a word was exchanged after that, her lips would often gently graze against his warm skin, curling into a small smile when she’d hear him let out a sigh, her leg now hooked around his, basically tangled around him. He never pushed her away or told her to stop, even when her hand slipped into his shirt, fingers tracing his warm skin, trying to feel him against her, as if she were trying to become one with him. He may not prefer skinship or let anyone else touch him, but she was the exception, she held the key to his heart, to his soul, giving her the free access of a more compliant and vulnerable Hongjoong, who was no longer a captain, but a boy who loved music, and she was but his muse, his inspiration, the rhythm his heart would dance to.

Park Seonghwa

Did she mean to forget it? No. Did she forget it? Yes. Was she sorry about it? Yes. But was she going to accept his berating and taunting? Not at all. She knew he was tired and exhausted, she knew being an idol wasn’t easy, it was a job accompanied with constant stress and fatigue- you knew what you were getting yourself into, but so did he. He knew you were a full eight to six job, a busy job, a hectic job, and that wasn’t accompanied with a driver or a manager or any other kind of comfort, no you had no one to lean on when it came to someone messing up and expecting you to clean up after them.

So, is it your fault that you came home all tired and exhausted to the bone, only to flop down on the couch, next to your boyfriend- who by the way did not even bother greeting you- and expect him to show you some compassion? Apparently, it was. Your head lay on the backrest of the couch, the TV acting like a white noise as your turned your head, eyes drowsy and tired to look at the magnificent being fate had paired you up with, someone so loving and caring, so endearing and tender, so pretty and-

“Did you vacuum today?”

“What?” sitting up properly she looked at the not so loving man, god, how could someone so pretty be so weird sometimes- oh shit. Shaking your head you cleared your throat, “Well umm…I know…I told you I’d do it today since I had to go later to work but I…kinda forgot? Plus you did clean yesterday so the house is pretty clean?” trailing off you averted your gaze, trying not to meet eyes with the man who looked borderline distraught and disappointed.

“Tch…this is why your mom got mad at you last week.” he mumbled and stood up, walking away, perhaps to the kitchen to get the stupid vacuum cleaner- no, he did not just bring that up! You sat there, too stunned to react, what may have seemed like a minute was perhaps more, especially when you felt something nudge at your feet, causing you to look up wide eyed at the source of hurt, staring up at him with blurry eyes.

Crying?

His eyes widened at the realisation, she had not been sitting there all stubborn while he was vacuuming, no, she was sitting there, crying, too shocked to even notice she was crying- the hell did he just do? He felt his fingers twitch, tongue poking out to lick his lower lip, an apology and more at the tip of his tongue, but before he could say anything, you were gone, the bedroom door slamming shut causing him to jerk back into his senses, running after you, trying to open the door, only to find it locked.

“Angel? Open- I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” he called out, all anger and dominance, instantly flushed out of his being, wanting nothing more than to cradle her in his embrace, trying to hold onto her crumbling pieces. He mentally cursed himself, knowing damn well how your mother’s visit last week ended poorly, an evening that was going great, until his future mother in law found out that he did most of the cleaning, which led you to receive an earful about the duties of a true, good wife.

You don’t remember much of what happened after, you had showered, cried during the shower, changed into something comfortable and snuggled into bed, ignoring the persistent knocking and apologies that flooded the room. Were you being childish? No. You could’ve talked it out with him, but you really didn’t want to and you really didn’t care enough right now to morph an understanding mood.

What you didn’t understand was why you weren’t able to move- oh. Trying to pry his arms off you, you huffed out frustrated and still upset, only for him to mumble something in your hair, pulling you closer as his grip tightened on you, pushing his leg between yours, tangling you in his long limbs. His hair fell of his face, the tips of his silky locks caressing your forehead, tickling your skin.

“Let go.” you mumbled only to hear him whine, about to ask him to ‘get lost’ until you heard a sniffle, followed by a broken, “I-I’m s-sorry.” Honestly, a part of you didn’t want to give in, but when you heard the way he whined, calling out your name like you were a million miles away, your heart clenched at the tone, hand gently squeezing one of the two that were tightly clamped around you.

“Hwa…” you sighed, leaning back a bit, feeling his lips press against your neck, ghosting up to your ear, whispering unending apologies, before squeezing you closer.

“Its…not fine but…please don’t…say that again.” she sighed, closing her eyes at the feeling of his soothing touches, letting his plump lips press against the shell of her ear before he flipped them over, with him hovering above her, keeping himself steady with his forearms pressing into the pillow on either sides of her head, staring down at her with puffy eyes and a pink nose, “I won’t…I’m sorry.”

You smiled up at him, placing a hand on his cheek, adoring the way he instantly nuzzled against it, before slowly bringing him down to meet your lips.

“Then make up for it.”

Jeong Yunho

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT!

Your blood ran cold, staring at what you had just done, oh my god, it was all over now, you were doomed- you had the worst luck known to man! You were also probably the dumbest person to exist- oh my god. The sound of the controller being placed on the table had you freeze up, but it was the loud exhale that had you flinching like a small kitten, ever so slowly turning your head to the source, trailing your eyes off the floor to lock with an unreadable pair.

“Babe.”

“Yes…Yuyu?” meekly responding, your grip tightened on the mop, trying not to run away, knowing that would only upset him even more. Okay, granted, he had told her as soon as he had come home that he was not in a great mood, the new choreography was a bit tricky and everyone was taking a bit longer than usual to pick it up, and that had led the dancer to embrace this sour mood. Even when she was smothering his cheek with kisses, clinging onto him, he had only sighed, turning to meet her lovey-dovey eyes with his tired ones, giving her a small smile before bumping his forehead with hers, “I’m gonna blow off some steam, yeah?” That had meant he’d be gaming the stress away, and she was supposed to act like a good little kitten and not play around. Lord knows why she thought of cleaning in the first place, perhaps because she was bored and needed a distraction- oh god.

He blinked at you, trying to control his expressions, though his hard stare had you shaking in your boots, slowly standing up he walked closer, and you took a step back, enough for your back to press against the wall next to the TV. Yunho had never hurt you, and he probably never was going to, but what he was doing now was uncharacteristic, exactly how angry was he? How upset was he for him to do what he had done? How angry and frustrated was he for him to say those words? For him to pull away with a glint in his eyes, watching you slowly grip your shirts, trying to control the frantic beating of your heart that was pushing the tears that were fighting to stay within your waterline.

He didn't even stop her when she slid down the wall, pulling her knees closer to her chest, his cold, harsh, brazen words slicing deep and bloody. He stared down at you for a moment before slowly moving away, his absence only hit you once you heard the soft click of the main door. It was moments later that you stood up, wiping your eyes you walked back into your shared bedroom, the scene replaying in your mind on loop;

He pressed his forehead against hers, not the way he would do so romantically, no, this was different, he was being mean, he wanted her to feel the anger coursing through his veins. Though his words were what felt like a cold slap,

“Can you do anything right? Or are you built to disappoint?”

Your eyes snapped open at the gentle call of your name, trying to ignore the lingering pounding at the back of your head. Of course, the persistent headaches were about to roll in, especially after that stressful scene followed by an unimaginable amount of crying.

Yunho whispered to you once more, noticing how you had flinched the first time, he knew your migraine would kick in as soon as he had seen your sleeping tear struck face- shit. He really did lose his cool this time, and had blown up on the wrong person. If there's one thing that he had learnt during his time with you, was that his girl was as fiery as a tiger, but her heart was as fragile as a kitten's, and his gold retriever self had managed to mangle it with his bare teeth.

“Love…” he brushed the hair away from your eyes, trying to meet your blank, unfocused gazed, as he cleared his throat, “I umm….I brought…something to eat-”

“Go away.” You whispered, gently pushing his hand away from you and sitting up, holding your head, the pounding getting louder and more difficult to handle, now that you knew he was right next to you. It was bad enough that you even dreamt about him saying that to you, in fact, in your dream he had broken up with you, which is probably why you gave him the stink eye as soon as he woke you up.

“I…I didn't mean to say that to you- tsk- it wasn't even directed towards you.” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, trying not to rip it out in frustration. He did not mean to take it out on you, at one point he wasn’t even looking at you, he could just see himself and how he was failing - but did that mean he could take it out on you? No, it didn't.

You looked at him sitting there on his knees, he still looked like a giant, but his hurt puppy dog expressions just had you internally berate yourself, any moment longer and you would give in- “Wait…” you turn to look at the alarm clock on your side table and whine in protest, having his full attention on you. “You woke me up! I thought it was already morning- it's only 3 am.” huffing she flopped back down on her pillow, ignoring him by closing her eyes. This was the only way you could ensure you got your message across- granted you were at fault, that didn’t mean he could turn you into his personal punching bag.

Yunho sat there, staring at you, closing your eyes as his own cast down to his clasped hands, feeling even more guilty for waking you up, but the guilt had been eating him up, as soon as he had uttered those words the guilt had begun to bubble, watching you helplessly. That was why he had walked out, he needed to clear his head, he needed to calm down and think, and other than the monologue of an apology he had even gone out of the way to get you a cake- not sure you’d eat it now, considering you were still mad at him.

“Ah-Yunho” she giggled as her eyes snapped open.

You looked down at him and snorted, his head was placed on your tummy, ear pressed against your shirt as he looked at you. “What are you doing?” you asked propping up on your elbows to stare at him, wondering what his mind was up to this time.

“Shhh…I’m listening.”

“To what?”

“Your belly.” he stated simply before sitting up and replacing his head with his palm, “She tells me she’s hungry, and that she’d like this idiot to feed her cake.”

“Did you just call me an idiot?”

Shaking his head he cleared his throat, “N-no, your tummy called me the idiot!” he clarified before turning around and crawling to his side of the bed, picking up a tray and turning around to face her, “So…am I forgiven?” he asked, casually opening the lid of the box, glancing up to see her admire the icing, man, he really struck gold with this one, she was as forgiving as she was cute-

“Depends. If you promise not to have a single bite.”

His eyes widened at your request, trying to see if this was some kind of joke, apparently…it was not. Clearing his throat he placed the tray between them and saluted her with one hand, “Yes Ma’am!” he yelled before taking a spoonful of the cake and pressing it against your lips, “I live to serve and please my lady.” Leave it to Yunho to wake you up at the early hours of the day and feed you cake, a very Yunho way of apologising.

Kang Yeosang

He watched you barge through the front door, looking like a mad woman as you flung your bag somewhere across the apartment, not after kicking off your heels and stumbling into the kitchen, grumbling about how ‘shitty’ your day was and how you hate men, followed by a ‘minus you Sangie, you’re the best.’ His girl really was something else, it truly amazed him how he ever fell inlove with her, especially with her distaste towards most men, hell it took her some time to even warm up to the rest of the guys- except for Mingi, which was super weird because if you ask him, Mingi is the weirdest, but she just said he’s a giant baby who thinks hes cool, like boss baby!

Picking up the remote, he pressed play, leaning back against the couch to continue watching the film. Only a shrill call of his name has him jerking off the sofa and running into the kitchen. Stumbling through the door frame blinks at you, with you standing there with the fridge open, glaring daggers at him, holding onto a container - oh…no.

“Yeosang…” other than your horrifying expression, your overall tone was very calm, which honestly scared him, you were a very expressive person until pushed to a point where you begin to shut out others, and right now, he’d have you yell at him, than completely shut him out. He took a step in your direction, only for you to raise your hand and stop him, motioning towards the empty container, “Did you eat the last slice?” Even though it was a question, it really did sound like a statement, one that was holding back the predestined overflow of emotions, of stress.

With a light sigh, he nodded, clearing his throat as he continued, “I…um…I forgot that you told me to save it for you…I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” His words held a gentle form of sincerity, the tender warmth of love, the calm essence of admiration - and she could not give a flying f*ck about it, especially not right now.

Making sure to maintain eye contact, you placed the empty container - the evidence - back in its place before closing the fridge. Taking a deep breath, you walked away, making sure not to spare him a glance as you walked out of the kitchen, ignoring his calls when you walked into the bedroom. You could hear him run after you, a gentle whine hanging off the tip of his tongue, but he froze when you turned around and looked at him, giving him no expression whatsoever, just, blankly staring at - no, through him. Honestly, it was then when he realised that this was not about the stupid cake, no, this was much more, he had forgotten something that was important to her, something she must have been looking forward to while she was on the bus home, something she must have been craving to eat- selfish, that’s what he was, and he knew deep down how mad she must have been- could he blame her?

He sat on the edge of the bed, ever so quietly, watching you go through your nightly routine. It hurt how easily you could pretend he wasn’t there, but then again, he wasn’t very attentive to your presence within this apartment either. He watched you go into the washroom, peaking through the door left ajar, watching you vigorously rub your face, holding back the urge of telling you to go gentle with the scrub on your skin, but he knew if he did, he’d probably get kicked out of the room- at least you didn’t ask him to leave you. You came back into the room, making sure to glare at him, something he caught onto pretty quickly, averting his gaze to his lap.

After a solid ten minutes of letting you change your clothes he glanced up at you once again, only to find you frowning at him through the mirror as you brushed your hair- at this point he realised you had not shut him out, but had decided to punish him like this. This went on for a while until you finally ripped The comforter from your side, making sure to land on the with an angry bounce, enough for him to jerk, turning to your direction for you to glare at him one more time and turn around as you flopped down on your side with an audible “HMPH”.

He didn't know if he should fine this cute, or be upset, a good part of him wanted to tease you, his inner menace begging to come up to the surface, but his more mature side or being kept reminding him that she was only doing this to avoid blowing up at him- which only added to his guilt, you really were a blessing.

You sat up to the sound of something shattering, heart racing a thousand miles as you turned to look at the place on the bed that was usually occupied by Yeosang, only to gasp when he wasn't there. Slipping out of bed, you slowly crept towards the door, grabbing your handy bat in the process as you tip toed out of the room, towards the kitchen. It was early morning, other than the noise from the kitchen, you could hear the early chirping of the bids- Yeosang had an early schedule today, so he was already out of the house- did that mean he forgot to lock the door? Shit, did someone come in because the door was unlocked, or did someone break in because they saw your boyfriend leaving.

With a bat in hand, you ran into the kitchen, ready to swing at the intruder, only you stopped mid swing when you met a familiar pair of eyes.

“YAH! KANG YEOSANG!”

His eyes widened at the sight of the bat, body frozen, crouched on the ground, waiting for the impact, only for him to jerk into action and fall back on his butt, staring up at her, whispering, “I almost…died.”

With a huff, you placed the back on the counter, pushing your hair back and walking over to your idiotic lover. Glancing at the pieces of shattered glass on the floor, oh, so that's what happened, huh? Giving him a hand, you looked at his face, raising a brow, watching him mumble something before giving your hand a squeeze.

“What?” you asked, leaning closer to hear him better, only he mistook it for you wanting affection, or perhaps he was the one who needed physical consolation. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush into his chest, making sure to squeeze you close. With a sigh you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, a good night's rest clearing your mind of any and all negative thoughts, in fact, now you were just exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to be pampered by your forgetful lover.

“What were you doing here?” You asked, looping you around from under his, placing your palms flat against his shoulder blades, feeling the slightest shift, pressing him closer to you - almost squeezing him like a plushie.

“Was…trynna bake you a cake.” He mumbled, burying his face in your hair, “But I messed up….I'm sorry…I ate your slice.”

With a sigh, you pulled your face back, giving him a small smile, “It's…alright Sangie…I'm sorry I got so upset last night…I just really really really don't like men.”

He pouted at your statement and nodded before leaning closer and pressing his forehead against yours, whispering, “Am I included in that statement?”

A giggled broke past your lips as you glanced up at him through your lashes, “Of course not…you're a fairy prince…not a stupid man…now come on,” with that you pulled away, gently lacing your fingers with his, “Let’s bake a cake together.” He could only smile at this, blushing at your compliment, any other day he'd argue about how he was a manly man, but today, he just wanted to shower her with all his love and tenderness, so he'd take it, and he'd be your fairy Prince for as long as you need him to be.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland

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b1rds3ye · 2 years ago

Text

Mask On

How the boys react to their new ally who is more adamant on wearing their mask than Ghost himself.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except shorter than Ghost)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3.1 (~0.8 each)

Warning: Canon-Typical Violence, Mentions of Reader potentially having insecurities, Not Proof Read

A/N: You know what maybe I want to be the badass masked character 😤

Captain John Price

The captain is thorough, and he immediately knew something was up when he looked up your file only to be greeted with no photo. He’s honestly a little peeved that his rank doesn’t grant him this confidential information, he’s known Simon before he took up the mask so this is the first time he’s genuinely had a faceless ally

But ultimately, as long as he can trust that you’ll be following orders, he doesn’t care if you have a mask or not. But his concern is only that for a fellow soldier

It takes a little longer for him to warm up to you - facial expressions tell a lot about someone’s character. He’s a bit prickly around you, he learns about you indirectly with how you interact with the rest of the 141

But over time there’s a shift. He can’t pinpoint when exactly but the sight of your mask relaxes him. After days separated on a mission, high stakes and adrenaline has Price snapping his head at the faintest of foreign sounds. But upon the familiar sight of your signature mask, he feels at ease

Price is fiercely protective of you and your mask. He likens it to his hat, only far more important - that mask is part of your identity and he knows just how important a soldier’s psyche is. If the enemy manages to take off your mask, he’ll stop at nothing to get it back on your behalf, even if you reluctantly tell him to abandon it

If he can’t salvage your mask, Price has now made it a habit to carry a balaclava for you in one of his pockets. If that’s not available, he’ll even offer you his hat, tipping it down far enough to obscure your eyes

Off duty he finds himself staring at your visage more these days. Looking at how the mask curves over your features, or the small slivers of skin that reveal themselves. He catches himself before you notice but he’s still disappointed in himself, he feels like a Victorian-era prude hyperventilating at the sight of an ankle

“Looking fresh, sergeant.”

You let out an audible chortle at Price’s words. The last mission was a success but at great costs, one of them being your mask damaged beyond repair during melee combat. Your face still wasn’t revealed, but slashes against fabric embedded with dirt and ash have made your signature mask look unrecognisable. Immediately upon returning to base and after debriefing, you were out of commission until you could don a new mask.

Price would be lying if said he didn’t miss your presence for the last few days, hiding away from the rest of the soldiers in base. He has no doubt you’ve still maintained your training and visiting the infirmary for mandatory checkups, but he’s gotten far too used to you being at his beck and call. The famed sight of your mask is no longer in his periphery, giving a nod of approval (not that he ever needed your approval, but he does enjoy your attention).

And now here you are with a new mask, the highlights glowing under the overhead lights and the darks swallowing up the lightwaves like an animal starved. Your updated look had you noticeably confident, shoulders square and head tall.

“Thanks, Captain.”

He can hear your smile and he ends up sitting next to you. Did he need to sit so close? No, but he acts as though his thigh brushing against yours was pure coincidence.

“What are you going to do with the old one?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, giving a light pat to a pocket in your cargo pants that your past mask currently resides in. “I know there’s a lot of memories in this… it’s my first mask… but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I’ll keep it.”

You look at him. Price now has the uncanny ability to read your mood purely through your body language. From the speed at which you turn your head, the inclination of the neck, how your shoulders slant, he’s surprised that such a vicious soldier can act so endearingly in these moments.

“For what?”

“Safekeeping,” he says simply. “I’m proud of my soldiers, sergeant - want to remember their accomplishments.”

You shrug in agreement and fish your mask out of your pocket. You don’t need to know how much Price truly values you, how having your mask will be like having a part of you by his side to motivate him when he’s working alone.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You’ve got a mask? Cool, so does he. Simon really doesn’t care when he first met you. He offers a simple nod of acknowledgement to you and then it’s all mission talk. If anything, the mask makes him respect you more, like him it’s always the masked ones who’ve seen shit and can get shit done

Even before you two became friends, you two were often paired together for operations. Perhaps it was just assumed the two masked people were on the same wavelength and to be fair, they were right. It didn’t take long for Ghost to admire your prowess on the battlefield

However as the two of you start to get closer, Simon gets a bit of a eureka moment. So this is how all his allies feel when trying to get along with a masked figure, unable to see any of their expressions. Oh how the tables have turned. It’s not daunting for him, more just amusing

He knows the struggles of having a mask so he helps out where he can. He reminds you if it’s been some time since you last washed your mask (advice he does not follow himself) and he’ll offer you some of his obsidian powder he uses to obscure any uncovered patches of skin

Price often has the two of you accompany him for interrogations, he calls it “mask pressure”. There’s nothing more terrifying to a target than having two imposing faceless figures standing on either side of them, unreadable and unpredictable

It’s clear you don’t want to show your face to anyone and Simon doesn’t question it. His natural curiosity is not worth your discomfort and he makes that abundantly clear. If on the rare occasion you catch him without a mask, he’ll sometimes put it back on so that you don’t have to be the only one with their face covered

If your mask is ever compromised, Simon covers you with his hulking figure. No one dares get on the bad side of Ghost who shoots the most terrifying glares towards anyone looking in his - and consequently your - way. He stands in front of you, back rigid and shoulders square, his posture only slacking if he feels you hold onto his back, seeking comfort

A few weeks ago, when left in a briefing, you finally noticed Simon was staring at you from across the room. He had been staring for a good while now, but you - ever the diligent soldier - were distracted discussing tactics with a corporal. So there he was, standing and observing in the corner of the room - his “observing” being drinking the sight of you. And that was when he noticed, among all the glory that was you, that your mask was slightly off alignment. Cue his eyes being trained on your head for you to get the idea that something was wrong.

When your head stayed still - probably challenging his gaze - he tried to change tactics. He added the occasional upward jerk of the head - miming an attempt to shake the mask back in place - but your head only tilted in confusion. You still could not figure out what he was doing.

Eventually he gave up and walked up to you. He lifted a tentative hand, silently asking for permission and you nodded. He pinched at the fabric on the side of your face.

“Your mask’s slippin’,” he said gruffly. It wasn’t the end of the world, only a small adjustment that only someone as observant as him could notice. Still, he felt satisfied at your heavy exhale, you must’ve noticed it’s a little easier to breathe with everything in alignment now.

“Thanks.”

Today, Simon finds your gaze trained on him, head following whenever he moves across the room. You used to stare when you first met, you probably found him intimidating and he doesn’t blame you. He thought you’d be over that though, you two were closer than that. At least he hoped.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He eventually asks and that spurs you into action.

Standing in front of him, you reach up, your hand grabbing the top half of the skull that overlays his balaclava. Your thumb lightly hooks into the skull’s eye socket - a little close to Simon’s actual eye but he trusts you. He feels you tug upwards, and Simon now realises that the skull had been sinking down his face, the peripheral around his brow no longer obscured. He’ll need to reapply the glue for the mask later.

“We really need a hand sign for this,” you mutter.

And so you two make one. It’s discreet, a closed fist with a thumb poking out, dragged from the jawline up to the hairline. The rest of the 141 just look at the two of you in confusion whenever you use it though, your little secret.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny’s generally a good judge of character. Although it’s a little uncanny being unable to see your features, he’s used to it because of Simon. One conversation is all he needs to reach a conclusion as to what type of person you are and now he treats you as if you’re good friends

Yes, he is curious about what you look like under the mask. He used to make comments about it occasionally until he caught you on a bad day

“C’mon Sarge, just a peek.” “Not happening, Johnny.” “What, you ugly?” “… that’s not for you to speculate, MacTavish.” “Shit, sorry. I- I’d never think that of you, or care. I know you’re a looker.”

And Johnny stands by his statement. Even if he’s never seen your face he quickly developed a little crush on you. How you conduct yourself in battle has him watching you with stars in his eyes and he just knows you’ll take his breath away if you ever show your face

When Johnny’s bored, he likes doodling your mask and potential alternative designs in his journal which he’ll show you sometimes. He’s not an artist but he gets the idea across. He’s created a “happy” design, an “angry” one, and the “when I see Soap” design which is just your standard mask with a whole lot of shoddily drawn love hearts on it (you haven't seen that design yet)

He’s genuinely surprised at how determined you are at keeping your mask on in all circumstances - you’re worse than Simon at this point - but he’ll never ask because he doesn’t want to potentially open up old wounds. Despite his curiosity for what you could look like, Johnny will never invade your privacy and ensures no one else does either. If you’re in your room he’ll knock once, twice, thrice, until he’s absolutely sure you’re ready for him to enter

If something goes wrong and your mask falls off he’s looking away and shoving everyone else to look away as well. He’s like a guard dog, shouting and name-shaming anyone who dares look in your direction. No one except other members of the 141 will be able to approach you until you’re covered

Was it smart to have you and Soap - combined to be the most disruptive and obnoxious soldiers on the field - alone to handle a stealth mission that was off the books? No, but you sure as hell weren’t going to disappoint Price or Laswell. The objective was clear and the rules of engagement were even clearer; under no circumstance can the enemy know you’re from 141.

“We’re gonna need to cover our faces,” Johnny mutters absentmindedly beside you. You pull your binoculars down to send him an incredulous look and he chuckles. “I need to cover my face.”

“You got a mask?”

There’s a pause and Johnny’s looking at you, eyes glinting in that familiar mischief. That was never good news.

“You bet.”

You offer a tentative nod of encouragement before lifting your binoculars back up to observe the target site. You hear the repeated shuffles of fabric against fabric and clothes sliding against skin. It’s prolonged, you swear it’s enough time for Johnny to change his entire uniform. His breaths become muted, mouth now covered until it eventually falls to complete silence. It’s unnerving, the designated demolitions expert is not known for his silence, and you have to look back at him yet again.

Of course you expected Johnny to be wearing a mask, but it was the mask itself that took you by surprise.

“Is that… mine?”

“Was yours.”

You squint and somewhere in the depths of your mind, you vaguely recall Soap asking if he could have one of your spare masks back at the base. You humoured him, and said your wardrobe was his.

That was your first mistake.

You figured he was just going to take the piss, wear your mask to scare some privates around the base. You didn’t think he’d actually wear it on a mission. It was unexpected, but it felt like an honour. How he was so willing to identify with you in some of the most dangerous of situations.

But your silence has Johnny getting fidgety. He’s already reaching up to pull the mask off.

“I have a normal balaclava. If you don’t like this I can-”

“Wear it.”

You can’t see Johnny’s face but you see him pull his head back in surprise. Then he smiles, one so wide, expanding his cheeks you can see it stretch your mask. In that moment you’re glad your mask obscures your features as you feel yourself grin at his own joy.

“We’re a team, aye?”

“You bet.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle’s may be close to Simon but he's not entirely used to masked allies. When you first arrived he shot Captain Price a cautious look, a silent conversation between them finished by Price’s definitive nod. Eventually he relents and puts up with you

Subconsciously, without seeing your face he ends up reducing you to a weapon. He respects you like a soldier, a robot. His language is restrained, only issuing orders and you recite them back

It’s only when another soldier cracks a joke on the mission and you laugh does it flick a switch in Kyle’s mind. You weren’t all orders, you weren’t a machine, you were a human (with a damn nice voice might he add). He feels terrible for reducing you to a tool simply because he can’t see your face but he’ll make up for it now

He becomes a bit of a menace in the sparse quiet moments of a mission. He makes the occasional one liner about how you wear the mask so others aren’t distracted by your good looks, but then changes the topic so quickly you’re not even sure he said it

Yes, Kyle’s a little obsessed with your voice. He can’t see you and he doesn’t have the experience like Price or Simon to read body language accurately. Instead, he can read your mood near perfectly with the inflections in your voice (which is arguably more impressive). While he doesn’t want you to ever be upset or angry, sometimes how you taunt the enemy has a shiver running down his spine

Because your mouth is blocked by a mask, many allies don’t offer you food or drinks. Not Kyle though, if he’s grabbed refreshments, he always ensures he has extra for you. At first he just gives them to you and then leaves. But when you said it was okay for him to stay - trusting him enough to just look away when you lift you mask - Kyle’s heart soared

If anything happens to reveal your face, Kyle is immediately by your side. He pulls you close to provide comfort, while also guiding your head into his neck or shoulder to block anyone from seeing you. Another member of the 141 will find a solution to cover your face, you are Kyle’s first priority and he’ll gladly hold you all day

After a long mission, you and Kyle are finally safe upon reaching exfil. Sitting on a helicopter Kyle slumps against his seat, and you do the same beside him. Although he could finally relax, he feels absolutely filthy, swamped in his own sweat under multiple layers. Dirt and mud caked his boots and crept all the way up to his thighs. Some even sneaked up into under his tactical vest.

He spares a look and sometimes he thinks you can’t possibly be human. The heat is suffocating enough without a mask, Kyle has long forgone his signature cap to let his head breathe. If your body language was any indicator, you weren’t handling the sweltering heat of the helicopter engine or Al Mazrah’s temperament. Your chest notably heaving under the weight of your tactical gear, breaths so laboured it sent the fabric around your mouth pulling and billowing with each inhale and exhale.

There isn’t much Kyle can do for comfort, but he tries. He shifts a little closer to you. Your head shifts to look at him, the movement was far too slow, like your head was too heavy and his heart tugs a little.

With one hand, Kyle gently tilts your face up to him. With the other he lightly pinches the fabric of your mask at the junction between your jawline and ear. Teasing it between his fingers, when he pulls his hand away there’s gunk on his fingertips. Dust, dirt and as he squints at your mask he realises that some of the stains are likely the dried blood of an unidentified enemy.

The hand he’s resting on your chin is about to pull away until he notices how you’re resting your head on it. He can’t see your face but he has no doubt that your eyes are near shut, almost drifting off to dreamland. He occupies himself by gently brushing away loose debris off your mask which has you relaxing further into his touch.

“We gotta wash this,” he murmurs defeatedly.

“... yeah, we do,” you grumble, voice thick with fatigue. Kyle does not stop his ministrations - even pulling some fluff off of the cotton of your mask. It does little to actually clean your mask - at this rate it’s going to need pure bleach to clean it - but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you trust him this much, leaning into his touch, entrusting him to be the respite from your mission.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #/*avery actually writes*/#/*cod x masked reader*/

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revelboo · 2 months ago

Note

Coma kid updates? 🥺 I love him sm

Sure!

Coma Kid Pt 10

B-127 x Reader

• “Not my favorite place,” he says, laughing and pressing those memories firmly down where they can’t hurt him anymore. Wishing them away. “You never really know how many levels there are until you know.” Can’t even remember what he’d done wrong to get sent down there anymore. Who he’d annoyed. Processor just refusing to dredge the memory up. Burying it with everything else that hurts him.

• He’s smiling and his tone hasn’t changed, but there’s almost panic in his optics. Something real under the constant yammering. “How long were you down there?” You ask and his smile wavers slightly, one corner of his mouth pulling in almost a nervous tic. Alone. He’d mentioned that he’d still have been alone if not for Optimus finding him. “Bee?” Why does that thought bother you? Him all alone, nervously talking to himself, to the walls. Or had he just existed in silence and now that he has someone to talk to, he can’t shut up?

• “You’d think I’d remember, but honestly, I was there so long, I have no idea,” he says, grinning so wide his face hurts. Doesn’t want to talk about it. About before. To remember the glow of the incinerator and the almost hypnotic pulses as things just ceased to exist. There had been a purity in it. A flash of heat and light and then nothing. Quick. It would have been quick. Maybe painless. “Are you hungry? Let me find you something.” And you grab his wrist when he tries to slide you off his chassis.

• As eager as he is to chatter nonstop, this he doesn’t want to talk about and it makes you more determined to hear it. “What did you do down there?” Alone. And those blue optics stare at your hand on his arm, smile becoming slightly manic. Slightly strained. Why can’t you just let it go? Why does it matter to you when you’re planning on escaping anyway? If you take it at face value, he was sent fifty levels underground if you’re understanding him correctly. Alone. A punishment? Your mind keeps hanging on to him down in a dark space by himself.

• Staring at your little hand on him, he can’t meet your eyes. Mouth opening and closing, not wanting to remember, but you’re his mate. Shouldn’t keep secrets from you if he wants you to trust him. “I watched the conveyor belt,” he says, words slow. “There was a chute that fed it and the belt carried it to the incinerator. I can still hear the sounds, the belt humming, the incinerator opening and closing. I was supposed to sort what came down, look for anything salvageable.” Scrap. It had mostly been scrap. But sometimes, it was broken bodies. Cybertronians thrown away like trash. The first time one had come through, it was a head and part of a torso, dead optics staring. He’d fallen down recoiling from it, staring at that mouth yawning open in a silent scream. Too frozen to lunge and stop the belt, watching in horror as the body was fed into the flame. And then pretending it away. Lying to himself that he was wrong. His processor playing tricks on him. There’d been no body. And he just kept lying.

#transformers x reader #b 127 x reader #b 127

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guiltyasdave · 5 months ago

Text

the road not taken

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: childhood friends trope, angst, fluff, no use of y/n, able bodied reader, reader has hair that she uses a hair dryer on, things that i don’t want to spoil but when i say angst i mean angst

a/n: remember how last year, i said that i’d only write happy endings for dave? yeah, about that…

thank you @sizzlingcloudmentality for beta reading, for encouraging me (through tears lol) and for just being the best of friends <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

Water cascades down on you, hot on your skin, soaking through your hair and collecting at your feet before it circles down the drain. You don’t know how long you’ve been standing here, staring at the glass fogging up around you.

It had been summertime when Dave moved in next door. You took your first glimpse at him with your nose almost pressed against your bedroom window. He opened the sleek silver car door, his mouth set in a firm line, the apprehension written all over his face as he looked up at the house. You had ducked out of sight when his eyes flickered over to your window, but when you took another peek, he was looking straight at you, a smirk playing around his mouth.

Your fingers massage over your scalp, spreading your shampoo’s soft foam, the fresh scent engulfing you. Your shoulders relax a little, sinking into the familiar feeling.

The first time you talked to each other, it was through the gaps in the fence separating your garden from his. Neither of you tall enough to reach over the wooden barrier, so all you could see was a glimpse of dark brown hair falling over even darker eyes, their gaze so much more pensive than you were used to from boys your age. Smarter, too. He made you laugh, made you curious to know more about him. You immediately wanted him to be your friend.

Your body wash’s scent joins in, suds gliding over your skin, cleansing you.

Over that summer break, there were only a handful of days when Dave wasn’t over at your house. It was new for you, to be around somebody so much, to not get bored of their presence after a short while. But Dave was different. He challenged you, never backed down from a discussion, riled you up just for the fun of it.

One evening, the day coming to a close, you were both sprawled out over your mattress, feet dangling off the edge. Golden light was spilling through the open window and painting shapes onto your wall, when he told you how his parents were fighting after moving here for his dad’s job, how he preferred being with you, away from the shouting and the following silence.

You made plans about running together, to a country far away, to become knights, or pirates maybe. Painting stories with your words, creating adventures that you would have together, each idea more exciting than the last.

The light was already gone, but none of you had moved to put on a lamp, so you were lying in the semi-darkness, your shoulders almost touching. His breath hitched before he quietly admitted that he was scared of going to a new school, of not knowing anyone.

“You know me,” you had replied, sliding your small hand into his, squeezing reassuringly.

“Yeah,” he had agreed, squeezing back.

You let the water wash everything away, until both your hair and your body are clean again.

Dave had fit in without issue, getting along with the other kids just fine, but you never strayed from each other. Side by side, from hopping on the bright yellow school bus in the morning until parting in the evening.

He was there to talk you into climbing trees much higher than you would have dared alone. He held you when you were sobbing after falling off your bike, both your hands and knees bloody and burning. He built his snowmen right next to yours on the lawn between your two houses. Always right there by your side, and you were right by his. Trading books back and forth, learning how to ride a skateboard when he did, opening your window for him and letting him crawl into bed with you when his parents were fighting in the evenings.

Your nerves flare up. Just a few more moments under the hot stream, just a few more moments of not needing to think.

You were both lazing on your parents’ sofa, your head in Dave’s lap and remains of a frozen pizza cooling on the coffee table. One of your favorite movies was playing on the TV, one that you had both seen so often that you could recite every line by heart.

“She’s pretty,” Dave said, eyes trained on the actress on the screen when you tilted your head to look up at him. His voice had become deeper this year, and from where you were laying, you could see hints of a stubble scattering his chin. “Like you,” he added, his gaze flickering down to your face.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks and your eyelashes fluttered as you giggled. Your hands found a throw pillow that you whacked against his arm, a “shut up” on your lips that came out way too breathy.

He laughed too, shrugging in that nonchalant way of his, as if to say ‘What? You are.’

Finally, you turn the water off and step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself.

As you grew older, you noticed how other girls looked at Dave. More than once, you had been asked if the two of you were dating, had seen how relief painted their smiles to be more genuine when you assured them that you were ‘just friends’.

“Can you bring him to my birthday party, then? Please? He never comes when we invite him ourselves.” One girl from your biology class looked at you with big, hopeful eyes.

Your quiet nod was followed with an excited giggle, and as you watched her retreating figure, a sharp sting made itself known in your chest. You couldn’t imagine Dave liking someone, spending as much time with them as he did with you. Having hobbies, inside jokes that you weren’t part of. You didn’t want to imagine that.

Your hair dries slowly, as warm air whips around your head and you stare at yourself in the mirror. Finally, you can put it up, a hairdo similar to one Dave once told you he liked.

Still, you entered the house, filled with thumping music, flashing lights and drunk teenagers with Dave by your side. His eyes flickered over the scenery before he pulled you into his side by your arm, sending pinpricks of something through you.

You giddily accepted when someone handed you both a beer, clinked your bottle against his and eagerly took a swig. Your brow furrowed, lips pursed, before you broke out into a laugh to see a similar expression of distaste on Dave’s face. But you took another sip, and then another, until you felt strangely weightless and the world around you turned blurry.

It didn’t matter, because you were anchored to Dave’s face in front of you. Everything was funny, both of you dancing clumsily, laughing for no reason, until you were breathless, your skin damp with sweat.

You would have denied it at the time, but maybe the underwear you're putting on had been bought with Dave in mind. Not at the forefront, but he had always been there.

You were walking home together, faces illuminated by the glow of the streetlamps. Your hand had slipped into his and he held on tight, like you’d vanish into the darkness if he let go. It was nice, the warmth of his hand engulfing yours. Something you thought you could get used to.

“Did you even talk to Laura?” you wondered, the words coming out a little slurred. “She asked me to bring you, you know. I think she likes you.”

You weren’t sure what you wanted him to say, what you’d do if he liked her too.

Dave snorted, throwing an arm around you and pulling you close.

“No. And I only like you.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. I’m your best friend.”

A fingernail rips a hole into your tights as you pull them up your leg. You curse under your breath as you retrieve another one from your suitcase.

He took you to prom, the possibility of going with anyone else never even entering your minds. He had drunk you in as you descended down the stairs, before he took an exaggerated bow and grabbed your hand, pulling you out the door in a fit of laughter.

It would have been so easy, that night, when he danced with you. To take that one step closer, to just brush your lips against his. Quick enough to play it off as a mistake. But you never did.

A dress follows, ending just below your knees. The fabric is cool against your heated skin, calming your nerves a little.

Dave drove you to college, along endless strips of road, with the end still looming just beyond the horizon. He played the mixtape you had made together when you were sixteen. He sang along with you, smiled when he caught you stealing glances at him.

You never wanted to let go of him, hugged him to you for several minutes. Waiting, wishing for his warmth, his scent, to surround you until you were part of him, until you wouldn’t have to watch him leave.

He wiped the tears off your face, his fingertips tender against your skin, his own eyes shiny.

Doing your makeup is tough today. Your hands don’t stop shaking.

He didn’t call as often as he said, not that you expected him to. Military training was hard, and when you did talk to him, he sounded exhausted.

He wasn’t slipping away from you, not really, but you could tell that there were things he didn’t want to, couldn’t talk about. His voice turned colder, his answers clipped, not leaving room for questions.

You had a few boyfriends, guys from your classes. But none of them ever managed to make you feel less lonely. None ever felt like they really understood you. The way Dave used to.

Finally, you’re content with the face you see in the mirror. The bathroom turns dark as you flip the switch.

You both went home for Christmas, had you counting down the days for weeks every year.

He looked so different each time, his features sharper than you had ever seen them, a never fading tension in his jaw and his eyes stormy, the warmth that you had known all your childhood almost completely drained out.

Still, he held you like he used to, still smelling like him, like home.

I miss you, you wanted to scream every time you said your goodbyes again. I miss my best friend.

You put on heels, your steps muffled by the carpet.

He told you that he met someone late one evening years later, the telephone cord wrapped around your fingers, the plastic pressed against your ear.

You forced a smile that he couldn’t see, ignoring the searing pain in your chest, telling yourself that it was good that he had someone. He had never liked you like that, you were just a ghost from his past at this point. A monthly phone call, nostalgia tying you to each other more than anything else.

You attended their wedding, tried to see what Dave saw, tried to be happy that he was happy. You just couldn’t tell if he was. He smiled when he was supposed to, laughed at jokes, held his wife’s hand, danced with her, but there was a void of nothingness in his eyes.

Your mother’s words echoed through your mind, how often she had teased you about how the both of you would surely get married someday. Your twelve year old self had hated it.

But, apparently, hidden deep inside your heart, you had hoped too.

You slip your purse and phone into a handbag. There are several notifications as the screen lights up briefly, but you ignore them.

It was no use trying to picture the boy you used to know as a father, aligning your best friend Dave with this new version of him.

His voice had been ecstatic when he told you, more alive than he had sounded in years.

You had cried yourself to sleep that night.

After putting your coat on, the door falls shut behind you. Your steps echo through the stairwell.

Calls had become farther in between. You didn’t blame him. He had a whole life, a whole family.

Until your doorbell rang. Until he showed up on your doorstep, late at night, deep circles under his eyes, his hair a mess, his fingers twitching.

You ushered him inside, questions of ‘are you okay?’ and ‘are you hurt?’ on your lips. He caught your hands, fluttering over his face, his shoulders. His fingers rubbed over your skin, his warmth sinking in, a sensation that you had almost forgotten pulled back to the surface.

He cupped your face, searched your eyes as he slowly leaned closer, his lips almost touching yours. You reacted without thinking, your own lips finding his. A thing that you hadn’t realized you wanted until it was too late, and now it was happening, here in your hall, after you hadn’t spoken to him for months.

“Dave, what—”

He parted from you breathlessly, his hands dropping to his sides.

“I’m sorry.” One hand ran over his face, before his eyes locked on yours again. “I’ve been— I think I made a mistake. I don’t know if— I think something bad might happen.”

“What do you mean?” You had never seen him like this, so out of sorts, all his carefully built composure crumbling down.

A sad smile pulled at his mouth before he stepped closer again, his arms engulfing you, pressing you against his chest.

“I can’t say. But—” His lips moved against your hair, down to your neck, his breath hot on your skin. “I never told you. I always thought you deserved better, and now you never even knew—”

Understanding glimmered at the edges of your mind, giving his words a meaning that couldn’t be right.

“It’s been you,” he murmured into your skin, “it’s always been you.”

You pulled him back by the hair at his nape, messing it up further. His eyes were swimming with sadness, so much that you couldn’t bear it. Your lips connected with his again. Anything to take his pain away, anything to let him know.

“It’s always been you for me, too.” It was barely a breath, shared between the both of you.

“I have to do something. But I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

It’s raining as you walk to your car. You take a deep breath, sinking into the leather seat. It’s only a short drive to the cemetery.

It has echoed in your head every day since. The words he said, the look of grim determination on his face as he stepped outside again. One last squeeze of your hand, and then he was gone.

Putting your car into park, you step back out into the downpour, your shoes crunching on the short walk over gravel.

You spot Carol, tears streaking her face just like your own. Dressed in black, just like you. Two little girls clinging to her.

He didn’t come back.

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are love <3

#dave york x reader #dave york #pedro pascal #dave york x you #dave york fanfiction #dave york x f!reader #dave york x female reader

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lxkeee · 1 year ago

Text

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—CHAPTER TEN

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: ANGST

Warnings: swearing and just angst.

Notes: Yayy! An update after being gone for a month or so lmao XD but anywho, heaven and back would be updated next week, I'm still finishing the chapter up lol.

Second notes: incase if you haven't seen the Azrael fanart my friend did for me, here's the link~! And also, did you know we have a discord server? Here's the link to it:3 come and join, everyone is friendly<3 and if you're already part of the server, come and say hi too:D

Word count: 4.6k

PART ONE I PART NINE | PART ELEVEN | NAVIGATION

Michael lets out a deep exhale once he finally hears the door to [Y/n]'s room clicked as he closes it. He was beyond worried when he heard the news of what happened to her. He blamed himself for being the cause of her passing out, if only he didn't send her down there then she would've been fine.

Michael leans against [Y/n]'s door, running a hand through his soft blond locks, eyes closed as he sighs.

Unaware of the approaching dark haired taller male.

Azrael's eyebrow raised as he noticed the blond man scrunched against [Y/n]'s door, seemingly in deep thought.

Azrael heard what happened and he immediately rushed back to heaven after his work, he was worried sick for the woman.

He sighs, although he didn't show it. His charming and mischievous face remains unchanged as he approaches the door.

“Michael, didn't expect to see you today.” Azrael says, his usual teasing and sultry voice catching Michael's attention.

Michael's head raised up—previously hung low—to look at the source of the voice, only to see Azrael in his deathly glory.

“I heard what happened so I immediately came here to check up on her, especially knowing she went down there and possibly saw him.” Michael explained and Azrael fought back the urge to roll his eyes at the man.

“Still wondering why you chose her to go down there, I was willing to take the load off her shoulders.”

Michael sighs, running a hand through his light blond hair, he doesn't get paid enough for this.

“I know and I suggested it to her right? To do the rock-paper-scissors game again after she lost but she was determined to take the case and I needed to respect that, she was fully prepared to go down there.” Michael explained, exhaustion evident on his voice. He was confused too, worried even. He can only believe God's words, the man sees everything—the past, present, and future.

He can only trust his judgement despite how it pains him to see [Y/n] suffer.

Azrael sighs, stuffing both of his hands in the pocket of his pants. Decided not to further question the man and possibly aggravate both of them.

Fights between Virtues are close to non-existent, but never zero. Arguments can be dangerous for powerful heavenly beings such as themselves.

“I shall not question you further, I'll hand you my reports later this evening so for now, excuse me.” Azrael says with a sigh, walking past Michael as he knocked on [Y/n]'s door before entering.

The door closed with a click. Michael was alone in that hallway after, with a sigh and finally drooping his heavy shoulders, he walked away.

For someone to be God's right hand man, he doesn't know anything. He has no choice but to place his trust in their heavenly father.

Who is currently away to a place they don't know.

‘What a mess,’ Michael thought to himself, the worried expression on his face disappearing as it was replaced with his usual cold and aloof facial expression that he is known for, shoulders straightening up, his footsteps fading as he disappeared from the hallway.

[Y/n] was blankly staring at the ceiling as she was lying down on her bed, seemingly lost in thought.

Azrael sighs, heels clicking as he walks towards her bed, [Y/n] shifted her head to look at the sound of the noise just to see Azrael, sitting on the empty spot of the side of her bed.

She gave him a weak and tired smile.

“Are you alright? I heard what happened,” Azrael muttered, a worried look on his face, “What did I tell you about pushing yourself to the limit?”

“The audacity to say that to me with your nonexistent sleep schedule—” [Y/n] says with a teasing tone but got playfully smacked by a pillow by none other than Azrael.

“I am death, I do not need sleep.”

Azrael says with a small pout, returning back the pillow to where he got it from, crossing his arms and crossing his long and slender legs.

[Y/n] chuckled softly, moving her position to sit on the bed instead of lying down.

“I mean... You looked like death.” She says, Azrael raises his eyebrow at her.

“I don't know why but I feel offended by that statement—”

[Y/n] stares at him, almost a deadpan looking the man up and down, “Come on... You know what I mean.”

“It's the bags underneath my eyes isn't it?” he asked, deadpanning at her, “Michael has it worse, stop attacking me.”

Azrael sighs, sometimes he forgets how difficult she is.

‘Dear father, give me the strength not to end her myself. I'm just kidding, I didn't mean to say that—’

He thought to himself, letting out a long exhale as he saw the teasing grin on the girl's face.

“You're trying to distract me.” he says, eyes narrowing into a deadpan, his lips still in a pout.

“Is it working?” [Y/n] asked with a playful tone, eyebrow raised teasingly at the male.

“Unfortunately.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, long and slender fingers weaving through the dark black locks in slight frustration.

Whenever he's with her, he sighs a lot. That's something he noticed a long time ago.

The heart palpitations he gets whenever she's near might've not been because of attraction, it's probably because of stress.

She stresses him out.

Okay, just a little bit.

Azrael sighs once more, [Y/n] resisting herself to burst out into laughter, “That's the sixth time you've sighed.” She points out, Azrael deadpans at her.

“Thank you for keeping count, I really appreciate it.” He says, playful sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“You're welcome, death.” She says, it was enough for both of them to burst into chuckles.

Knock, knock, knock.

A knock was heard from her door, catching both of them off guard.

The door opens. A long dark blue haired woman can be seen standing by the door. Her hair tied into a ponytail yet her hair still reaches her waist. A serious look on her face.

Gabriel is here.

‘Oh shit.’ Azrael thought to himself, a shiver running down his back.

The room suddenly felt colder with the woman's presence. Something that often happens whenever Gabriel is in the room.

“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.

“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.

Gabriel, known as God's messenger; she handles reports that are needed to be passed around between realms.

It is natural that the news of Raphael collapsing would immediately reach her.

She can never understand what [Y/n] sees in Lucifer, sure she can see the vision but after what happened and what he did to [Y/n].

She gets the ick.

When the meeting about Sera and Adam's actions were held and the meeting also included about this 'Hazbin Hotel proposed by none other than Lucifer's daughter.

Someone needs to oversee it.

Unfortunately, [Y/n] lost the game that decides that.

The other members thought it was a bad idea but [Y/n] insists, saying that it's fair.

She doesn't want them to baby her. She wants to prove to them that she's okay.

Gabriel was beyond worried, [Y/n] is like a little sister to her despite their ages being so close to each other.

She trusts [Y/n], she can't trust Lucifer.

She couldn't trust the man who abandoned his wife for another woman.

Especially when she learned that Lilith left Lucifer.

It made Gabriel smile when she found out.

Qui totum vult totum perdit, as she always says.

Which translates to, ‘he who wants everything, loses everything.’

Michael usually refutes it with an, ‘Omnia causa fiunt.’

Which translates to, everything happens for a reason.

She doesn't understand Michael sometimes, despite knowing the man for many eons now.

She supposed Michael has some secrets to hide as the heavenly father's right hand man.

She couldn't imagine the burden he's carrying but then again, everyone in the seven virtues has something to hide.

She hums to herself, her mind returning what she was previously thinking.

What was she talking about again?

Oh, Lucifer.

Lucifer got greedy, he lost both of his wives in the process.

What differs him from the first man then?

Nothing.

After all, he is the embodiment of the sin of pride.

He is prideful, arrogant, and greedy.

Not much of a difference between him and Adam, except for how they show their arrogance.

Lucifer became blind when given the opportunity to act upon his God forsaken dreams.

Gabriel grimaced at the thought. The very dreams that doomed humanity.

With that blindness, he lost everything in the process.

As what he deserves.

Gabriel wonders why can't [Y/n] see that a man is willing to go on his knees to worship her?

Azrael, the angel of death.

The virtue of humility. Despite Azrael's slight narcissistic personality, the man knows how to be humble.

Despite the popular belief.

The man knows how to control himself. He knows the difference between being arrogant and being proud of one's achievement.

Unlike Lucifer.

Although, Azrael is borderline to it, she won't speak about it though. Nope, nuh uh.

How funny, Lucifer the sin of pride and Azrael the virtue of humility.

Gabriel almost chuckled at the thought, ‘I supposed there are two sides of the same coin.’

With a sigh, the sounds of her heels clicking against the tiled floors came to a halt.

She stood in the hallway of the Caeles mansion, facing the door that leads to [Y/n]'s room.

She can hear [Y/n]'s muffled behind the door, along with a familiar voice of Azrael laughing. Though, muffled.

Gabriel tilts her body slightly to the side so she can gaze outside through the many windows that are in the hallway.

Dark evening blue skies are what she can see, the sun has set a few hours ago.

She's not sure, the concept of time doesn't matter to an immortal being such as her.

She turns to face the door once more, taking a deep breath as she composes herself.

Stand straight, chest up, shoulders back. Confidence.

She knocks and opens the door.

“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.

“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.

Azrael smiled nervously at [Y/n], patting the girl's head before getting up from where he was sitting—the edge or side of [Y/n]'s bed—his heels clicked on the tiled floor as he walked.

He passes by Gabriel, patting the woman on the shoulder before exiting the room.

The door clicked as it closed. [Y/n] nervously gulped.

Gabriel sighs, finally letting herself walk towards [Y/n]'s direction.

The sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor is what [Y/n] can only hear, she plays with her thumbs nervously. Her [e/c] eyes avoiding deep dark blue ones.

“We need to talk.” She says sternly as she sits on the edge of the bed, [Y/n] sighs and nodded.

This is going to be fun. [Y/n] thought to herself, sighing mentally.

“What happened?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms as she looked at the other female.

[Y/n] chuckled nervously, “I sorta got ambushed by evil...?”

Gabriel just stared blankly at her before deadpanning, “How—”

“It just happened okay?” [Y/n] just sighs and Gabriel just inhales and then exhales loudly.

“I don't want to continue asking about that,” Gabriel says flatly, clearly lost for words.

[Y/n] just nodded before looking away to avoid the other woman's eyes.

“Why do you insist on taking this job?” Gabriel asked, her dark blue eyes sternly looking at the [h/c] haired girl.

[Y/n] looked at the other woman in the eye, faltering slightly from the sharpness or Gabriel's dark blue ones.

“Because I just want to, what more reason do you want?” [Y/n] says nervously, avoiding Gabriel's stern and judgemental gaze.

Gabriel sighs then raises an eyebrow at her, “We know you just want to see him. It's been eons, [Y/n]. Why are you still hung up on the guy? You should move on and perhaps find someone new?” she asked her and [Y/n] avoided Gabriel's gaze and turned to look at the window near her bed, watching as the clouds passed by her window.

She sighs, “I can't, I still love him, Gabriel. After all these years my heart still yearns for him, aches, and beats for him.” she whispers softly, voice shaking and vulnerable.

Gabriel sighs, “You always let your emotions get in the way, that's the problem with you [Y/n] you don't think.” she says sternly and [Y/n] remained quiet, she knows Gabriel is right but she can't help it.

“He's just a man, [y/n].”

“A failure of an angel, he brings shame to the seraphims.”

“No, he's not.” [Y/n] refutes back yet her voice lacks resolve, it was barely a whisper.

“So what are you telling me? That this is all worth it because he's the love of your life and this was the man for you” Gabriel asked, a tinge of anger in her voice, her words sending knives to [Y/n]'s heart.

Gabriel is right and she refuses to listen.

“I don't know... He might've been.” [Y/n] answers weakly, a single tear running down her left cheek.

“This is ridiculous.” Gabriel says and [Y/n] just gave a pained laugh, “I know.” she says, she knows that.

“So there's no chance of changing your mind then?” Gabriel asked, a small scoff leaving her lips, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in slight annoyance at the thought of [Y/n] going down in hell once more.

[Y/n] nodded, Gabriel sighed and stood up from where she was sitting, “You're really an idiot, [Y/n].” Gabriel says with a small sigh, a strand of dark blue hair falling on her face. She uses her finger to tuck those strands behind her ear. Her dark blue eyes analyzing the other woman—helpless, weak, an utter fool for lowering herself for a man.

One might say the standards are in hell because of how low it is.

How ironic, amusing.

[Y/n] smiled weakly, she knows. She knows she's stupid for loving a man this much.

Yet, she can't help it. She's a fool. A fool in love with the devil, who was once an angel, who was once her loving husband.

You can never really know you love someone until they've hurt you and still think of them as the best person ever.

“Yeah, I know.” [Y/n] says with a pained smile, a bitter chuckle escaping from her plump pink lips.

Gabriel stood up from where she was sitting, walking to a nearby window that's near the edge of her bed, she stared outside the glass panel, her hands behind her back.

“Does that mean you'll be going down there again?” She asked, not bothering to look at [Y/n].

“Yeah.” [Y/n] nodded, her eyes downcast as she looked defeated. She hated herself for being like this.

“I am not stopping you, you're far too stubborn to listen anyways.” Gabriel says, voice monotone and tired.

“I know.” she says, voice barely above a whisper, a meek and powerless voice. Not wanting to agree with Gabriel but the woman is right and it hurts admitting it.

“Don't say I didn't tell you so.”

Not the first time someone told her that, and it didn't end well for her.

History repeats itself.

And as usual, it's her fault for not listening.

Azrael stood behind the door, ear pressed on the wooden door, eavesdropping.

He is aware that Gabriel can be harsh sometimes and he is also curious.

Can't say what he heard didn't break his heart.

He moves away from the door and leans against the wall, his face expressionless.

He has no reason to cry about it, he knows he had no chance.

A small smile was now on his face and a single tear slid down from his left eye, leaving a wet trail on to his pale cheek.

The door suddenly opens which prompted him to quickly wipe the tear away and composed himself.

He watches as Gabriel walks out of the door and closes the door behind her.

Dark blue eyes meeting dark black ones.

Gabriel's eyes widened ever so slightly when he saw Azrael standing and leaning on the wall near the door, “I thought you left.” she says, eyebrow raised at him.

Azrael chuckled softly, his voice smooth and sweet yet had a tinge of slight bitterness.

“I was curious what you girls were talking about, curiosity kills the cat indeed.” he says with a slight humor in his voice.

Gabriel's eyes softened slightly, “Are you okay?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Azrael shakes his head, “No, but I will be eventually.” he says with a small sigh, “Perhaps I should start moving on, besides, I'm starting to get interested in a certain someone.” he murmured, a mischievous grin on his face as remembered a certain archangel who is the acting celestial scribe to the book of life.

“Is it Michael?” she asked and Azrael gave her a disgust and flabbergasted expression, a hand over his chest.

“Excuse me?” he says, dumbfounded, “I may swing both ways but he isn't my type.” he says flatly, Gabriel gave him a side eye.

“Really? I swear both of you have this weird tension. The younglings say they 'ship' you and you two are the perfect representation of old man yaoi whatever that means.”

Azrael almost choked on air, what the fuck? Where did those angels even learn those words—

“Gabriel, what the fuck?”

Gabriel chuckles, nudging the male's shoulder, “I am just kidding.” she says with a teasing tone before humming to herself, “Metatron was it? I barely interact with them nor see them often. They're like Michael but worse, they're usually near father at all times to help him write the book of life so we barely see them in public.” she deadpans before looking at Azrael, “Since you are the angel of death, I supposed you see them often. I can just imagine you annoying them every time you're with them.” she says flatly.

Azrael chuckles, “Indeed, they're rather interesting but for now, I'll resolve my personal issues before acting upon my interest in them.”

“Good. Go to therapy.” Gabriel says, her lips pressed in a thin line as she looked at Azrael with a deadpan expression.

Azrael pouted a little.

“But I no no wanna...” he whined dramatically with a small laugh as he began to follow Gabriel as they walked away from [Y/n]'s room, the click of their heels slowly faded away as they slowly disappeared from the room.

Meanwhile,

“Dad, are you okay?” Charlie asked softly, her father staring outside his bedroom window, a lost look on his face.

Charlie was outside the door during her father and her supposed half brother arguing.

She wanted to come inside the room and try to calm both men down, but when she heard Xavier's voice as he talked to their father.

Charlie could hear eons of rage and utter pain in the boy's voice.

It stopped her from intervening, a voice in her mind kept telling her, ‘Don't. He needs this.’

Even if their father was the receiver of those harsh words.

She might not fully know nor understand the pain and suffering Xavier went but when she looked at the boy's [e/c] eyes, she was able to see utter sadness despite the blank expression on his face.

Lucifer was just blankly staring outside the window, his eyes fixated on the outside world but his mind somewhere, lost and drowning in his own self hate.

He hated it. He was not prepared. He was not prepared to see an almost exact replica of himself to arrive at his daughter's doorstep.

He was not prepared to see an exact replica of him filled with anger and sadness.

Seeing Xavier with his own two eyes, he was able to understand a bit of what the boy went through.

And he was the cause of it.

He regretted the things he has done, especially on how he treated [Y/n].

He was young—no, he was stupid. Just stupid.

Nothing can excuse his actions. He was an idiot and a fool.

[Y/n] was there for him, she was his best friend and he treated her like that.

Like a doll he discarded once he got bored.

He was wrong on how he treated her.

He should've done that, he should've loved her properly, treated her properly.

He should've been Xavier's father, the father that the boy needed and the father that the boy could trust.

Not someone he looks at with so much anger.

Terrifying, Xavier's rage reminded him of his own when he fell from grace.

Though, the reasons are highly different.

He loves [Y/n], he still does.

He realized that he still does in fact love the woman when he was separated from her for many, many years.

He would often call out to her without thinking, then remembering ‘Oh, she's not here.’

Falling from grace was enough to slap some sense into him.

He treated an amazing woman like her like garbage.

He's really an asshole.

Lilith cannot compare to [Y/n], he can't remember how many times [Y/n]'s name slips from his lips whenever he argues with Lilith.

It created distance between them.

Lilith couldn't take it anymore and left him.

He was left alone to wallow in self pity. He was left alone to mourn for the woman he left to suffer in her heartbreak which he caused.

He mourned his first love, he mourned his first son.

Which he doesn't deserve to do, considering that it should be the opposite.

To Xavier, he's a dead man. To [Y/n], he's a nobody.

Charlie watches her father with an unreadable expression on her, her hand outstretched as if to reach him but it hesitated midway. Shaking and unsure.

“Dad...?” she softly calls out again, her voice echoing despite the ringing in Lucifer's ears. His daughter's voice sounds like it's echoing in the four corners of his hotel room.

Suffocating. It felt like he was trapped in his own mind. His mistakes echoed like a siren's call to him. Teasing him.

He felt cold. He felt numb.

Snap. Everything stopped. The ringing stopped.

Though, his heart is beating erratically against his ribcage, like a monster threatening to get out of its prison.

He felt utterly numb.

His eyes are scanning his room, gentle streaks of light filtering through the glass panel of his windows giving his room a reddish like hue.

With a deep shaky sigh, he turned around and faced his daughter, his hand gripping his cane clenched ever so slightly.

“Charlie, dear... I would like to be alone at the moment.” he says, hesitantly. Voice quivering in each syllable, each word filled with the regrets of his past and present. Weighing him down.

Charlie's eyes widened ever so slightly before giving her father a small reassuring smile, “Oh! Of course... Excuse me...” she says giving him a small bow before turning around on her heels to walk towards the door. She paused, took a deep breath before looking at her father through her shoulder.

“If you need me, I'll be somewhere around the hotel. I'll always be here for you, dad.” she says with a small smile before turning around once more, twisting the doorknob open and walks out of the door.

The door clicked to a close when she was gone.

Lucifer's tensed shoulders loosened as it drops, a small frown on his beautiful face.

A single tear slips past his eye, the droplet sliding down on his left cheek, leaving a trail on his soft and pale yet rosy cheek.

“I know.” he whispered before a choked sob escaped his lips.

He can feel the stinging sensation around his eyes, vision blurring as tears mess up his sense of sight.

He can feel his legs buckling as if it struggled to carry the weight of his mistakes that he's carrying on his shoulders.

It gave out as he was now on the floor, small sobs could be heard from, his sobs bouncing on the walls of his room, mocking him.

“Why am I crying? I don't deserve to cry. I don't deserve to cry after what I had done.” he says choking on his words, shoulders shaking, trembling.

He hugged himself in an attempt to comfort himself, yet he was met with painful memories of when [Y/n] used to hold him when he was crying.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” he repeated to himself, rocking back and forth on where he was kneeling like a sinner.

Begging for her forgiveness, yet his repentance can't be heard from her.

‘It's all my fault, it's all my fault.’ thinking these words were like a stab to the heart because it is true.

With his last bit of energy, he lies down on the cold tiled floor. His white suit a pop of color to the redness all around him, his cheeks pressed against the tiles as tears continue to slide down on his pale skin and on to the floor.

“Over, I can't believe it's over, I can't believe the love I lived, to show some other day...” he quietly sang, his voice raspy from all the crying he shifts to let his body face the ceiling, his eyes staring blankly at the chandeliers.

“Listen, I hope that you can hear me...” he sang, propping his elbows on the floor to lift himself up into a kneeling position, his hands trembling, voice cracking with emotions, “As I kneel down and pray with the love I meant to say...” he sang softly, his voice beautiful yet filled with unexplainable regret.

“Shadows, you took away the shadows...”

“Before my life was black and white, though tonight the room's gone gray.”

She was the light of his life, his life was monotone before she came, she was a splash of color to the black and white of his so-called life.

“Golden, all the love you gave was golden,” he sang softly, [Y/n]'s bright smiling face flashes into his mind, a smile that brought so much warmth and happiness into his life, “Golden, I would gladly pay, to show the love I meant to say...”

“Oh, music you made me hear, such music,”

“Silly Lucifer, don't take our elder's words to heart! Their ancient beliefs can't possibly understand your amazing ideas!” [Y/n]'s words echo in his mind, for a brief moment, he could see [Y/n] smiling and giggling at him, her long white dress fluttering against the wind.

His eyes widened when the figment of his imagination of [Y/n] slowly fades away, his eyes widened in fear as he attempted to lift himself up from the floor, his hands outstretched in hopes of reaching her.

Only to grip on to nothing.

“Without you here to guide me, I feel as though I'll fly away...” he muttered, his voice continuing to break as tears continued to stream down his cheeks.

Droplets of his tears falling into the floor, his reflection mirrored into the small puddle of his pain.

“S-sorry,” his voice breaks even more, a simple word that is too late to say, too heavy to speak with his own lips. The very words he wants to say to her.

“Sorry, that's the word I want to sing to you,”

He took a deep shaky breath, his wine red like eyes tired and dull, eyes puffy and red after all the crying he had done, “The other word is stay, to hear the love I meant to say.” he softly sang, small hiccups can be heard.

He's really an idiot.

TAGLIST I:

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#lxkeee answers #hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader angst #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader angst #lucifer morningstar x you #“TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN”

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lowkeyerror · 9 months ago

Text

The Family Business Ch. 16

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Ch. Notes: Slight confrontation and angst, self-blame, lots of feelings, communication

Summary: The future of the family business is discussed between Wanda, Natasha, and yourself

An: Another update sorry for the wait and I appreciate how patient you guys are with me here

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Natasha couldn't sleep. All she could do was watch as both you and Wanda slept restlessly. Her mind was turning, thinking about what she could do in this situation. The right answer was one she was struggling to produce.

On one side of things running the family business was what Wanda was trained to do. It was all her wife wanted, her life's work, her life's purpose. If Wanda wasn’t tied to the business what this mean for her wife.

On another side, this business was unkind to her. It was rough and cruel. In the spam of a couple months Wanda nearly lost her father, her girlfriend was beaten up, and her wife was shot. It’s understandable why she’d want to walk away from this.

Natasha was unsure what you wanted. After the encounter with Kingpin it was clear to Natasha that you were an integral part of the family business. There was a lot more responsibility on your shoulder than she originally thought. If you wanted out of the business, would it survive.

Dragos was a great leader but he was getting old. This whole ordeal was proof of that. It was clear that Wanda’s homecoming would act as some sort of test, as he could potentially be ready to step down for a new successor.

The variables seem never ending to assess. Natasha truly cared about the happiness of you and Wanda, but the idea of either of you being put in situations like this, made her nervous. The toll it was taking seemed greater than the satisfaction that it brought.

Natasha is gently taken out of her thoughts when she feels you snuggle deeper into her. She’s careful as she readjusts her good arm around you. Wanda’s hand on the other side of you interlocks with Natasha’s. She shifts her focus to her sleeping wife. Her thumb caresses the back of Wanda’s hand.

“Sleep, Natty” you mumble into her collarbone.

“I’m trying lisichka, there’s just a lot on my mind,” Natasha speaks honestly.

“Get in the middle,” you move with your eyes closed over Natasha.

The spy goes to protest, but Wanda is already scooting closer to her. She clings to her wife like a koala. You also curl into the woman resting one of your hands on her bare stomach.

“You’re safe moya lyubov, relax,” Wanda kisses Natasha’s shoulder tenderly.

Natasha takes a deep breath and closes her eyes in an attempt to go to sleep. It comes easier when she's enclosed by both you and Wanda.

The next morning almost feels plainly normal. When you wake up you’re the only one in bed. You swing your legs over the side and sit with your head in your hands.

You can see flashes of the night before and it eats at you. You had killed before, but this felt different. Though you were clean it still felt like you had his blood and brain matter all over you. You could hear him laughing as he dared you to shoot him. The way your brother’s name sounded in Fisk’s mouth.

It's worse when you start to remember how weak you acted after. Wanda being there to baby you as always when you became a childish mess. Your hands tightly grasp at your hair as you berate yourself for your actions. You acted irrationally and then panicked in a way you shouldn’t have.

You feel a pair of hands on yours, carefully loosening your grip on your hair.

“Y/n, look at me baby.”

You lift your head to meet Natasha’s gaze. The worry in her eyes makes you try to get a grip on reality. With a shake of your head and a large inhale, you regain your composure.

You attempt to stand and Natasha tries to stop you.

“I’m fine Natasha.”

“You do know I was a spy right? Lying to me is not going to go over well for you,” she deadpans.

You attempt to deflect, “Where’s Wanda?”

“In the kitchen. Now are you going to tell me what that was about?”

“Nothing that I can't handle on my own,” you assert.

Natasha’s eyes lock on to yours in a way that makes you want to melt, “ You don’t have to handle it on your own. You can be vulnerable with us, with me.”

“Being vulnerable is what landed me here in the first place. If I wasn’t so fragile maybe they would've told me about my mom. If I would've been more rational then I wouldn't have shot Fisk in the head. All I did last night was run away, vomit, and cry like a fucking child.”

“Last night, you saved the family business. You saved me, Wanda, Pietro, Dragos, and potentially everything they care about,” Natasha tries to persuade you.

“I could’ve done better. I should’ve stood taller, held my ground, kept my temper in check. Even now, I sound like a whiny kid, who can’t move on from the past. For nearly a decade I’ve been trying to become stronger, but every time I’m put in a tough situation, it’s like I’m that kid again. I’m just waiting for someone from this family to throw a glass bottle at my head and tell me I’m worthless because I know that it’s true.”

For once it seems as though Natasha doesn’t have the words. You wont look at her as silence blankets the room. In your mind there was nothing about this that wasn’t your fault. You deserved to be punished for your lack of competence, there had to be someone who was mad at you.

Wanda had overheard the conversation as your voice became louder. She waits a beat to see if Natasha had anything to say before entering the room herself.

Your back was to her and she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around your midsection. Her chin rests on your shoulder.

“Y/n, I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it, but you are not worthless. It’s ok to feel overwhelmed by what happened yesterday, it hasn’t even been 24 hours. It’s ok to lean us for help, we won’t push you away and we won’t be upset. Emotions are not childish, my love.”

Your hands find themselves around her forearms, “ I wish I could’ve kept it together.”

“It would’ve just prolonged the inevitable. There was no way that Fisk could’ve lived after all he put us through. He can’t hurt this family anymore."

“Not just with him, I- I want to hear from Dragos and Pietro about my mother. If I wouldn’t have sprinted out of the building-”

“They are at home, they aren’t going anywhere. Whenever you want to have that talk we can, but I think it would be best to give it a couple of days” Wanda reassures you.

“ Is he upset with me?”

Wanda shakes her head, “Of course not, Y/n. You saved his life, his family, his business. He’s worried about you, he wants to see you.”

Your attention shifts to Natasha, who has been quiet since Wanda entered the room. You can see her in her own mind.

“Nat?”

Natasha doesn't answer when you speak causing her wife to call her name as well. When they lock eyes Wanda can tell something is weighing on the woman.

“I don't want him to see you, Y/n.”

Wanda furrows her brow, “Why not?”

Natasha speaks softly and avoids eye contact with her wife, “We don't know what he wants.”

“He wants to make sure she's ok. She's like a daughter to him,” Wanda becomes slightly defensive of her father.

You use your hands to keep Wanda near you. You think whatever is happening in this conversation requires space between the wives.

“I know that, but what if he wants something else Wanda?” Natasha rushes out.

“What else could he want?” Wanda tone is incredulous at this point.

“I don’t know Wanda, maybe he wants to thank the one person who has been holding his business together since his accident. Maybe now that she’s saved not only his business, but his family and his life, he wants to reward her. Maybe this whole thing has made him realize he’s too old for this and he wants to pass on all of this to her,” Natasha shoots back.

“That’s ridiculous- he’s not retiring,” Wanda tries to dismiss Natasha.

“Think about it Wanda, why else call you home now? Your father is looking for a successor and there was only one person who was successful at running the business in his absence,” Natasha argues back.

“He left me in charge, Natasha.”

“And how long did that last? You did your best, but it was too much for you. There’s nothing wrong with that, but you leaned on Y/n and she picked up the slack effortlessly. This was natural for her, she’s good at this.”

The tension in the room was rising with each exchange. You want to de-escalate the situation, but you don’t know if it’s ok for you to get involved.

“ If he offered it to me, I would tell him no,” you spoke up, “I love this business, but I can’t run it. I’m not even a Maximoff.”

Wanda turns you so that you’re facing her, “ Do you want to run the family business?”

“ I-I’ve never thought about it before,” you answer her honestly.

“ I thought we all agreed to some time away from this business, now you’re talking about being the head of the table,” Natasha is in disbelief.

“This is all hypothetical. This business is the only thing that I feel like I’m good at and for the longest I felt like I would do this forever. But things are different now,” you look between the two women.

The tension seems to leave the air when you look at them.

“What's different, little krolik?”

You shove her shoulder lightly, “My priorities feel different. There are other things I care about, and look forward to besides being useful for the business.”

“What kind of things lisichka?” Natasha teases.

You roll your eyes, “Things like sleeping in and waking up next to my girlfriends in bed. Having enough days off to travel somewhere, see something with them. Domestic things like cooking dinner together, or watching movies. Knowing that we're all safe and don’t have any reason to be looking over our shoulders would be nice too.”

“I like the way that sounds,” Natasha says.

“Me too,” Wanda agrees.

You stop them there, “But… Wanda I know you've wanted this your whole life. You didn't ask this year's away preparing for this, and if this is still your dream then I want to be there to support it. If you’re involved, I want to be there.”

Natasha looks to her wife, and can see a multitude of emotions pass through Wanda’s face.

“I want this more than anything,” Wanda places a kiss on your forehead.

Your hand rests on her face bringing her eyes to yours, “Wanda, you don't have to choose between this and that.”

“I know, I know, but Y/n I’m always going to choose us. You, Nat, this, it's more important to me than the family business. I don't want to be the reason we're in danger,” her forehead rests on yours.

“So what does this mean for us?” Natasha asks for clarification.

“I don’t think we’ll know what it means before we talk to my dad. I want to say if he asks me I’ll say no immediately, but it’s easier said than done,” Wanda frowns.

“It means whatever we’re going to do, we’ll do it together,” you say looking at both of them.

Natasha still has worry in her eyes, but a kiss from you eases her nerves. Wanda follows your lead wrapping you all into one large hug. With kisses to the top your heads, she reassures you all.

“We’re going to be ok”

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989 @falloutboy-lover

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader

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anton-luvr · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, how have you been? I love your blog and the way you write!💖 I have a request to make, if you're comfortable with that... How would Riize react when you think they are cheating on you, but in reality it's all a misunderstanding, and they're just too busy. (English is not my first language so I'm sorry if this is a little confusing!)

# WHEN YOU THINK THEY'RE CHEATING ON YOU ; 7riize.

⚝ bf!riize x gn!reader | angst | bf au ⚝ note ; im kinda busy, but im doing good!! thank you so much ily :( and don't worry abt it i understood your req perfectly!! thank u for requesting, i hope u like it <3

# SHOTARO. - for the first time ever, shotaro doesn't smile. he can only sit in silent shock while he processes your words, and the first thing he can think of to do is to hug you. holds you tight as he whispers apologies over and over again, feeling terrible that he made you think that he was cheating on you. reassures you gently that he would never, and promises that once he gets a rest day, he'll spend all his free time with you.

# EUNSEOK. - eunseok isn't one who usually shows his emotions, but pain and guilt is so evident on his face after hearing what you said. he had no idea that you were feeling this way from how busy he's been these days, and he feels awful about it. tells you that he's sorry while wiping your tears away, and he swears to himself to start treating you with more love and care from that day onwards, starting from right now.

# SUNGCHAN. - he hates himself for making you think that he was cheating on you. calls up his boss immediately with the fakest cough and sneezes, lying without batting an eye about how he was 'terribly sick' and needed 'at least two days off' to 'recover'. he spends those two days with you, never once leaving your side as he takes you out to all your favorite places and showers you with love and compliments.

# WONBIN. - even though he immediately reassures you that he's not cheating on you and spends the night with you in his arms, he still feels so bad. life still goes on as usual for the both of you the next day, him busy at work while you were busy with yours. but just to make it up to you, wonbin has a bouquet sent right up into your office - a bouquet of a hundred and one roses, reminding you that you're his one and only lover.

# SEUNGHAN. - he understands how you feel and why'd you think that way, so other than seunghan promising that he'll try to spend more time with you, he also lets you voice out your worries in detail. he listens with full attention, nodding when you mention how you didn't like one of his female coworkers because she seemed so close with your boyfriend. and right after the words have left your lips, seunghan slips out his phone and blocks her on everything, right in front of you. he wants you to rest assured knowing that he couldn't care less for anyone else in this world other than you.

# SOHEE. - sohee has not and would never cheat on you. he loves you too much for that. he tells you just that as he gently kisses away your tears, holding you tightly in his arms for the rest of the night. he feels horrible for making you feel insecure in your relationship, so he makes sure to shower you in extra affection for the next few days. breakfasts in bed, long kisses before he leaves for work, and constant updates with photos about his day to you.

# ANTON. - his heart literally shatters into pieces. he can't help but cry too, because how could he make the love of his life feel this way? he apologizes to you through sniffles and sobs, promising you that he'd never cheat on you. tries his best to finish up his work faster the next day so he can come straight home to you and into your arms.

taglist : @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart @lycheecheeseyogurt

#got kinda sad writing this...#got even sadder proofreading it.......#sarah's 400 ! ☆#riize #riize fics #riize angst #riize fluff #riize drabbles #riize imagines #riize reactions #riize scenarios #riize anton #riize sohee #riize seunghan #riize wonbin #riize sungchan #riize eunseok #riize shotaro #riize x reader

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corruptedcaps · 8 months ago

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Maid for it

“Another day, another mess.” Issy muttered, pushing the door open and stepping into the dim, stale air of the nightclub. Sammy followed close behind, tying her graying hair into a loose bun.

“I don’t know how they do it.” Sammy said, squinting at the leftover chaos. Empty glasses, glittering confetti, and half-crushed cans scattered across the sleek floors. “Every weekend, they come in here acting like they own the place. No respect for anything but themselves.”

Issy snorted, picking up a crumpled cocktail napkin. “The youth of today. They think the world revolves around them. Everything’s a selfie, a status update.”

“Right? Did you see that girl last week when we were on the night shift, the one in the sparkly dress? Spent more time filming herself than dancing.” Sammy shook her head, grabbing the mop.

“Remember when we used to go out? Actually had fun without needing an audience.” Issy said grabbing a trash bag.

Sammy smiled. “Good times, Issy. Good times.”

Issy looked around the club, hands on her hips. “So, where should we start?”

Sammy, already eyeing the far end of the room, groaned. “We should flip for the bathrooms. You know they’re always the worst. I swear, they must turn into animals in there after midnight.”

Issy pulled a coin from her pocket, holding it up with a smirk. “Heads, you do the bathrooms. Tails, I’ll take the hit.”

Issy flicked the coin into the air. It spun, catching the dim light, before landing in her palm. She peeked and grimaced. “Tails. Dammit.”

Sammy chuckled. “Good luck in there. I’ll take the bar.”

With a sigh, Issy grabbed her cleaning supplies and headed toward the bathrooms. The door to the ladies’ restroom creaked open, revealing the usual chaos. Loose makeup smeared across the countertops, lipsticks rolling about, and a few forgotten articles of clothing thrown haphazardly on the floor.

“Same old, same old.” She muttered, shaking her head. As she wiped down the counter, something caught her eye. There, lying next to an abandoned sequined purse, was a black wig.

Issy barely had time to blink before the black wig sprang to life, leaping from her hands and onto her face. “What the hell—!” She gasped, stumbling backward as it crawled across her skin like a living thing.

The wig slithered up her cheeks and over her eyes, settling firmly on top of her head. She reached up to tear it off, but just as her fingers touched the strands, a sharp, sudden pain pierced her scalp, like dozens of tiny needles burrowing in.

“Ow!” Issy yelped, frantically tugging at the wig, but it was on tight, as if fused to her head. Her hands shook, and as the seconds passed, a strange warmth spread through her body. Subtle at first but soon, it grew into an intense heat, like something was shifting beneath her skin.

She stumbled toward the mirror and froze. Her wrinkled skin, the creases she had grown accustomed to over the years, began to smooth out. The sagging around her chin and eyes lifted, disappearing before her eyes. Her body shrank, her waist narrowing, her arms slimming.

Her breath caught in her throat. “What... what’s happening to me?” She whispered, her voice sounding younger, sharper.

Issy stood frozen in front of the mirror as the transformation continued. Her chest began to swell, her old bra straining as her tits grew larger, fuller, and perkier. The sight made her gasp, her hands instinctively moving to her chest, feeling the unfamiliar weight.

“Oh my god.” She groaned as her hands grasped her new sensitive boobs.

Her lips plumped next, slowly puffing out until they were full and glossy, as if she'd just had an expensive treatment. Her fingers twitched as her nails elongated into perfectly manicured, polished claws, no longer the brittle, chipped things she had grown used to. Every detail, every change, unfolded right before her eyes in the bathroom mirror.

At first, her mind raced in panic. “This isn’t right! What’s happening to me?” She could barely recognize herself. Her body was no longer that of a middle-aged woman, but something else entirely. A younger version of herself, but not even that. This version of her was more idealized, almost like one of the women she’d see strutting around the nightclub, basking in attention.

“This... feels kind of... good.” She murmured, a smile creeping across her face.

Issy’s smile widened into a full, self-satisfied smirk as she admired her reflection. She couldn’t stop staring and why would she? She was perfect. Her body was flawless, every curve exactly where it should be, her skin glowing like it had been airbrushed. Her lips curled as she traced a finger along her jawline.

“God, I’m gorgeous.” She purred, the words tasting sweet on her tongue. She tilted her head, catching the light just right, and let out a soft laugh. “No wonder those girls spend all night taking photos. If I looked like this every day, I’d never stop looking at myself.”

Her eyes gleamed as she adjusted her stance, taking on a more bratty posture. “How could anyone not be obsessed with me?” She purred, running her hands over her hips, admiring the perfect hourglass figure staring back at her. She turned, posing, admiring herself from every angle.

Now, she felt invincible, untouchable. No one could match her. Not even the sluts she cleaned up after. “I’m better than them. Better than everyone.”

Issy’s breath caught in her throat as the words echoed in her mind. “Better than everyone.” She repeated slower, taking in the gravity of the statement, the condescension of the words. She blinked, suddenly horrified by the vanity consuming her.

“What am I saying?” She whispered, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t like those girls, shallow and self-absorbed. She was… a good person, wasn’t she?

“No!” She muttered, forcing herself to look away from the mirror. Her hands shot up to her head, fingers gripping the wig. She tugged, trying to pull it off, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, a tingling sensation crept across her skin as the hair started to defend itself by hitting her with more changes.

Her maid’s uniform tightened around her body, the fabric hugging every new curve as it shrank higher and higher, separating at the middle. The bottom part morphed into a slick, black leather skirt, clinging to her like a second skin.

The top part relaxed and in fact became bigger, becoming a luxurious and decadent, fur coat draping over her shoulders. Her sensible work bra followed in her new skirts footsteps by turning into a tight leather tube top.

Issy’s hands dropped from her head and ran over the leather, feeling the smooth texture, her fingers grazing the fur. “It’s perfect.” She said, her bratty tone returning and a smirk creeping back onto her face despite herself. She twirled, watching the coat flare out.

She looked better than any girl she had seen walk in or out of that club and the feeling was intoxicating. She knew could any wan eating out of the palm of her hand with just a look. As a maid she was invisible, but looking the way she did now who could ignore her?

And yet there was still a voice in the back of her head urging her, begging her to rip the hair off. The hair was giving her a body to die for but it was also making her more conceited and vain.

“No! This isn’t right! Ohhhh fuck but it feels sooo good! No I have to end it before it’s too late.@ she groaned.

Using what resistance she still had in her, she reached up and grabbed the hair in her hands. Her pretty nailed fingers wrapping around as many strands as possible. With one big tug she hoped it could at least come a little loose but the hair had one last card to play.

All at once Issy felt a surge of heat flow to her pussy and she felt it tighten to an extreme she didn’t know was possible. The very act was making her cum like never before, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“Ohhhhh goddddd yessss!” She moaned loudly. Images of hot guys railing her in the very bathroom she was in filled her mind and made her cum again. She pictures herself strutting through the club like it was a buffet, choosing any man she wanted. She would be the best sec they ever had and she would make sure they spoilt her as rotten as her soul.

“Why fight it?” The thought slithered into her mind like an invader she couldn’t argue with. “I deserve this.”

Issy’s eyes rolled back to normal but there was a change instantly in them. They were no longer soft and caring eyes, instead they sparkled with spoilt narcissism. She stared at her reflection, the smirk growing wider, her eyes gleaming with pride. “Of course I fucking deserve this.” She said, the words slipping out effortlessly. She felt a surge of power, a thrill that coursed through her veins.

“I’m never going back to being some fucking loser maid again.” She declared, her voice full of conviction. The memory of her old self, ordinary and invisible, was pathetic. She sneered at the thought.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Sammy’s voice echoed off the tiles. “Issy, are you ok in here? I heard a moan of pain.” She called, her tone impatient. But as she stepped inside, she froze, her eyes going wide. “What the hell…?”

Standing in front of the mirror was a woman Sammy barely recognized. Issy, or at least what was left of her, turned slowly with a bored expression. “Relax loser, haven't you ever seen perfection before. Of course you haven’t just look at you.” She drawled, rolling her eyes.

Sammy’s jaw dropped as Issy picked up a glittering sequin bag from the counter. Unzipping it, she pulled out a thick wad of cash, a grin spreading across her face. “Look at this, my day just keeps getting better.” Issy purred.

Sammy stepped forward, her voice shaking. “Issy I don't know what happened to you, but you can't keep that cash and we need to get you help to reverse whatever the hell happened to you!”

Issy scoffed, flipping through the cash. She playfully put it up to her face like it was a telephone. “Hello police? Yes my friend put on a sexy black wig and turned in to the hottest bitch I've ever seen. Get real loser, even if there was a way to reverse this why the fuck would I want to go back to that pathetic loser I was?”

Sammy grabbed her by the arm. “Because this isn't you, Issy.”

Issy yanked her arm free, her eyes flashing. “You're right, I'm not Issy anymore. That weak, invisible woman is dead. I’m Bella now. And Bella gets everything she wants.”

Sammy’s heart raced as she backed away, her eyes darting between Bella and the door. “I’m going to find help. We’ll figure out how to take that wig off, Issy, I swear.” she said, her voice firm but shaking.

Just as Sammy reached for the door, Bella moved with lightning speed, slamming it shut with a loud bang. Sammy froze, staring at her in disbelief. “What are you doing?” She asked, fear creeping into her voice.

Bella leaned in, her eyes gleaming with a dark, twisted delight. “I can’t have anyone knowing about my wonderfully evil hair now can I? So, you’re just going to have to join me… Samantha.” She said slowly, her voice dripping with malice.

Sammy flinched at the sound of her full name, her body tensing as Bella ran her hands through her long luxurious hair, pulling thick chunks from her head that seemed to instantly regenerate. Without effort she twisted the clumps it into a sleek ponytail. Before Sammy could react, Bella flung it at her.

“No!” Sammy shrieked, trying to duck away, but the hair came to life midair, writhing and twisting like a serpent. It latched onto her arm, tightening with terrifying strength. Sammy gasped, frantically tugging at it, but the hair slithered up her arm, relentless, heading straight for her head.

“Get it off me!” She cried, her voice desperate. But Bella only smiled, cold and sinister.

“Don’t fight it, Samantha. You’ll love being a hawt bitch.” Bella purred.

Bella stood back, her arms crossed, watching with gleeful anticipation as the living hair slithered up Sammy’s arm and latched onto her head. Sammy let out a muffled scream, clawing at the strands as they dug into her scalp, but it was no use. The transformation had already begun.

Bella’s grin widened as she saw Sammy’s body start to change. Her chest swelled, her boobs growing fuller and rounder, the fabric of her cleaning uniform tightening around her frame. Sammy’s lips plumped next, growing into a pouty, perfect shape as if they had been touched by a masterful surgeon, designed to be prefect for dick sucking. Her wrinkles faded before Bella's eyes, years melting off her face as her skin smoothed into a flawless, youthful complexion.

Sammy’s body slimmed and reshaped, her figure becoming athletic and toned, curves in all the right places. Her old exhausted, middle-aged self was disappearing by the second. Bella felt a surge of satisfaction and pride watching the transformation unfold, seeing Sammy’s resistance fade.

Sammy’s eyes, once wide with panic, began to dull, her expression shifting from fear to something colder, more detached. Her lips, once trembling, now settled into a perfect, pouty smirk.

Sammy’s maid outfit began to shift, the fabric tightening and shrinking against her changing body. Her uniform morphed, the dull cloth replaced by sleek black leather that hugged her hips, forming a short, revealing skirt. Her top dissolved into a thin black string bra that left little to the imagination, her big tits barely being held by it.

A shiny black puffer coat materialized around her shoulders, draping loosely and adding a seductive edge to the ensemble.

Bella grinned in approval. “Now that’s more like it. Doesn’t that feel better, Samantha?”

Samantha turned to the mirror, her new reflection staring back with cold confidence. She ran her hands over her curves, admiring how her new clothes showed off her perfectly tight new body.

She turned to Bella, her eyes gleaming with approval. She took the cash from her friend’s hand and held it up to her face, mirroring the fake phone call Bella had done earlier. "Hello police? I want to report a crime. The crime of looking oh being a bad bitch." She said sticking her tongue out playfully.

“Thanks babe. You were right, I do love being a hawt bitch. I was meant to be this beautiful.” Samantha said, handing the cash back to Bella she turned back to her reflection. Bella sadled up next to her and the two beauties primped and admired themselves. Samantha grinned pushing her tits out at her reflection.

“We’re going to have so much fun. Imagine the broken hearts we’ll leave behind, the envious bitches watching us, desperate to keep up. We’ll show all those poser girls what it really means to be spoiled brats.” Bella said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Samantha chuckled, tossing her hair back. “They’ll hate us, but they’ll wish they were us.”

Bella nodded. "Of course but they never will be because we were maid for this."

THE END

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #cc2024 #corrupted hair #maidforit

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lieblxng · 2 years ago

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Ethan Dorian from Spooky Month is available for interaction! Ethan has been added to the mobile muse list, the main blog muse list, with his small blog bio done, the shipping list, and then finally added to the interest check! Check him out when you can!

he is released!!! i blame @strebcr for this /lh /j That's right, I had the motivation to write his summary and I might even get started on his full bio soon after this since I got some good enough brainrot in my head for him :3c I will add his family later, but for now, enjoy the lil guy! Always multiverse verses and I can make fandom verses like a Pokemon verse if needed. With him there's a new tag being "Occult TW" so please block the tag if needed!

anyway watch spooky month it's really good :D thanks for reading!!!

#//my head is so empty ;; im just excited to interact with him heehee :3 #Ethan (self) | I'm really just a video game artist.#When I close my eyes lying next to you... | Updates #big boy anxiety | ooc

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sherewrytes · 4 months ago

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↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader

REBLOGS HELP ENGAGEMENT

summary. You were always told by your family to stay out of trouble, get your degree, get a good job, and live a good life. Simple rules to follow. You somehow caught the eye of probably the most problematic person in your university but why did it intrigue you to find out more about him.

Toji Zenin/Fushiguro saw you for the first time strolling past him and his friends in front of the university's library. Something about you drew him in. He never saw someone like you before, focused, poised and dedicated to their degree. Always in the library or hanging out with friends, not really partying much. He wondered when curiosity would get the better of him to approach you, but he knew the life he lived would be too problematic for someone as sweet as you.

genre: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, explicit smut, dark romance,

Mafia Au, street racer au, dark romance au

character lookbook

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Taglist: (you can comment to be added)

@sparkling-obsidian @queendessi24 @masterofthepp @thedondiva45 @laitifly @burpzz @prettypink-princesss

Chapter 4: Slow Down

Yn looked at Toji sitting next to her then glanced at Gojo then back at him.

Y/n," he said, his voice low but firm, "just listen for a second. I need you to understand that I’m not some sick puppy. This isn’t a game for me."

Y/n rolled her eyes, crossing her arms defensively. "Then why do you keep acting like one? If you want to talk, then be honest. Stop lying to me!"

Toji leaned in closer, invading her personal space just enough to make her heart race. "I’m not lying," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "but I can’t tell you everything, either. There are things in my life that—" He paused, searching for the right words. "That isn't safe for you to know."

"Safe? For me?" Y/n scoffed, her frustration bubbling over. "You think I can’t handle the truth? How do you expect me to trust you when you keep dodging my questions?"

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear. "Trust is built over time, Y/n. And right now, I just need you to focus on us, not on what you think you know about my life." He gently cupped her chin, tilting her head up so she met his gaze. "What if I told you that the racing, the shop—those are just hobbies? They don’t define who I am."

She hesitated, searching his eyes for any sign of deception, but the intensity in his gaze made her pulse quicken. "Then what defines you, Toji?" she asked, her voice softening ever so slightly.

He could feel the momentary crack in her defenses, and he seized it. "I’m a guy trying to make ends meet, just like everyone else," he lied again smoothly. "I’m focused on school, on making a better life for myself. The racing? It’s just a thrill, a way to escape from all the pressure."

Y/n narrowed her eyes, but her heart raced at his closeness. "Is that all? You make it sound so simple."

"Of course not," he said, letting a hint of vulnerability seep into his voice. "But I don’t want you to worry about it. I deal with things in my own way. I’ll always keep you out of the chaos. I swear it."

"How can I believe you?" she shot back, but her tone was less confrontational, and he could sense she was wavering.

Toji brushes his fingers along her arm, grounding her with his touch. "Because I care about you, Y/n. More than you know." His voice dropped, laden with unspoken truths. "I don’t want to hurt you. I want to keep you close."

She shivered at the contact, her resolve beginning to crumble. "You keep saying that, but it feels like you’re just playing with my head."

"I'm not playing," he said, his voice a sultry whisper as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I’m just trying to keep you safe while I figure out my life. Believe me, I’m being honest." He leaned closer, his lips just inches from hers, making her heart race in a different way. "But there are things I would never want to expose you to."

Y/n swallowed hard, caught in the moment, his words weaving a complex web that both fascinated and terrified her. "Like what?" she breathed, almost forgetting her anger.

"Like the people I deal with outside of all this," he said, his voice low and intimate, "the kinds of connections that can get messy. But it’s nothing you should concern yourself with."

"You’re making it sound like you’re in some secret world," she replied, trying to sound defiant but failing to mask the curiosity in her voice. "You’re not just a street racer and a mechanic. What else are you hiding from me?"

Toji brushed his thumb along her jawline, the intimacy of the gesture sending electric shocks through both of them. "You don’t want to know that, trust me. I’m just a normal guy but I have my demons, Y/n."

"What kind of demons?" she pressed, but the way he held her gaze made her falter, her breath hitching in her throat.

"Demons that haunt me," he admitted, letting a darkness seep into his tone, "and if I let you too close, they might start to haunt you too."

Y/n felt a thrill of fear and excitement. "You’re being cryptic on purpose."

He smirked, a sly grin that promised trouble. "Maybe I am. But it’s to keep you from getting hurt. If you let me, I’ll be the shield between you and all the shit I deal with."

For a moment, Y/n was caught in a swirl of emotions. The allure of his danger was intoxicating, but she also felt the pull of her own instincts warning her to stay away. "You don’t have to protect me, Toji," she insisted, though her voice wavered.

"Maybe not," he replied, leaning in closer, "but I want to." He pressed his lips against her forehead, the gentleness of the gesture clashing with the intensity of their conversation. "Let me handle the chaos. You just focus on being you. That’s enough for me."

As she looked at him, her heart conflicted but undeniably drawn to him, she couldn’t help but wonder if trusting him was the right choice. And in that moment, as he held her close, it felt like it might be worth the risk.

Toji stepped into Y/n's room along with yn, closing the door behind him, his heart pounding as he tried to keep his cool. He was acutely aware of the tension between them, but he couldn’t let her walk away. Not now. Not when he finally had the chance to be close to her again.

"Let’s talk more in private." he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "But let’s not go there. Instead, let’s talk about what you love. What makes you happy? I want to hear more about you."

Y/n frowned slightly, sensing the shift in conversation. "You’re deflecting."

He smiled softly, brushing his thumb along her jawline, making her heart race even faster. "Maybe I am," he admitted, leaning in a bit closer. "But I want to know what makes you tick. Your design work? Your dreams? I want to know everything about you, Y/n."

She hesitated, caught off guard by his sincerity. "You’re just changing the subject."

"Am I?" he replied, tilting his head slightly. "But isn’t this what we should be focusing on? You and me, here, right now."

His gaze locked onto hers, and she felt the heat radiating between them, pulling her closer. "Tell me what inspires you. What do you want to create?"

Y/n found herself drawn into his intensity, her anger slipping away. "I want to design spaces that make people feel at home," she said, her voice quieter now. "I want to help people feel comfortable and happy."

Toji's expression softened. "See? That's beautiful. You're beautiful. And I want to know every little thing about that side of you. So tell me."

His touch was magnetic, and as she spoke about her passion, he leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. The conversation shifted, and with every word, Y/n felt the tension between them change.

"Okay," she said, smiling slightly. "I guess I can share a little."

Toji grinned, relieved to see her opening up. "That’s all I want, Y/n. Just you and me. Let's forget the rest for a bit."

As they delved into conversation, Toji subtly steered her away from any more questions about his life outside of this moment, focusing instead on the warmth of their connection and the spark igniting between them. For now, he was determined to keep her in the light, far away from the darkness lurking in the corners of his life.

Toji leaned down, capturing Y/n’s lips in a gentle but fervent kiss, pouring all the pent-up feelings he had bottled inside into that one moment. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, and he searched her eyes for understanding.

“I need you, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know that, right? Since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

Y/n blinked in surprise, the sincerity in his gaze catching her off guard. “You don’t even know me, Toji,” she replied, her tone laced with disbelief. “How can you need me?”

“I do,” he insisted, brushing his thumb across her cheek, relishing the warmth of her skin. “I know it sounds crazy, but there’s something about you that pulls me in. It’s like you’ve been a part of my life long before I even met you. You make everything feel different.”

She searched his eyes for any hint of insincerity but found none. The intensity of his gaze made her heart race. “But you don’t know the real me,” she said, trying to maintain her defenses. “You only see what you want to see.”

“Maybe,” Toji conceded, leaning in closer, their breaths mingling. “But I want to know the real you. I want to learn about your dreams, your fears—everything that makes you, you. I don’t want to hide from that anymore.”

His sincerity made her chest tighten, the wall she had built around her heart cracking just a little. “And what about all the chaos in your life?” she pressed, her voice softer now. “What happens when that comes crashing down?”

Toji’s expression shifted, a flicker of vulnerability flashing across his face. “I won’t let that happen. Not to you. I promise,” he said earnestly, a hint of desperation threading through his words. “I’ll protect you from all the darkness in my world. I’m done pretending it doesn’t exist, but I refuse to let it take you away from me.”

Y/n felt a rush of emotions—confusion, longing, fear—but the weight of his words wrapped around her, making her heart flutter against her will. “Toji,” she breathed, the uncertainty still lingering in her voice.

“I know this is all so sudden,” he admitted, his grip tightening around her waist as if anchoring them both in this moment. “But I can’t pretend like I don’t want you in my life. You’re the light I didn’t know I was missing.”

The sincerity in his words pulled at her heartstrings, and for a moment, she allowed herself to imagine a life where they could be together without the chaos, without the lies. “What if we just… take it slow?” she suggested hesitantly.

Toji smiled softly, relief flooding through him. “Slow sounds perfect. I’ll take whatever time you’ll give me, Y/n.”

With a tentative smile, she nodded, and the tension between them shifted once again, transforming from uncertainty to something warmer, something filled with possibility.

“Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s figure this out together.”

Toji’s heart swelled at her words. He leaned in to kiss her, this time softer, more tender, as if sealing a silent promise between them. In that moment, he knew he would do everything in his power to keep her close, to shield her from the darkness lurking in the shadows of his life.

Toji’s lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “So you like it slow, Y/n?” he asked, his voice raspy with teasing. He caressed her jaw gently, tilting her face to meet his gaze, their eyes locking. “Or do you prefer it fast?”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt heat rise to her cheeks under the weight of his gaze. “I—I just meant…” she stammered, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment.

He held her chin firmly, his eyes searching hers as he waited for her to gather her thoughts. “Look, I get it. Things are crazy between us. But we can figure it out together, at whatever pace feels right. Just know that I want you, Y/n. No matter how fast or slow this goes.”

The warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes began to ease her apprehensions. “Okay,” she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s take it slow and see where this goes.”

Toji smiled, a mixture of relief and desire flooding through him. He leaned in to kiss her again, this time softer, more tender, as if sealing a silent promise between them. In that moment, he knew he would do everything in his power to keep her close, to shield her from the darkness lurking in the shadows of his life, even as he struggled with his own demons.

Y/n sighed, the weight of her emotions pressing heavily on her chest. “It’s so soon, Toji,” she admitted, uncertainty lacing her words.

Toji let out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “Is it, though?” he countered, tilting his head slightly as he searched her eyes for understanding. “I mean, we’ve already been through so much together, even if it feels like it’s only been a few moments. Isn’t it better to be honest about what we want?”

Meanwhile, in the background, the lively atmosphere of Y/n’s living room was a stark contrast to the tension between the two. Gojo, Shoko, and Mei Mei were enjoying themselves, laughter and chatter filling the space as they passed around drinks and smoked casually.

Gojo, ever the instigator, snatched Shoko’s phone from the table where she had been playing a slow R&B song, seamlessly switching it to “Aston Martin Music” by Rick Ross and Drake. The smooth beats and silky lyrics enveloped the room, setting a relaxed vibe.

As the song played, Gojo turned to Shoko with a mischievous grin. “You know, Geto has a crush on you,” he said, smirking as he watched her reaction.

Shoko faked a gag, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Oh please, Gojo. Geto? He’s way too chill for me.”

“What's wrong with Geto? He’s a solid guy,” Gojo defended, raising an eyebrow. “You just need to give him a chance. He’s not as boring as you think. He’s just… selective.”

“Selective?” Mei Mei chimed in, giggling as she leaned closer to Shoko. “You mean he’s just too busy being the ‘cool guy’ to actually make a move?”

“Exactly!” Gojo laughed, pouring another drink. “I mean, look at him. He’s been lurking around you like a puppy for ages. Just admit it; he’s got a crush, and it’s adorable.”

Shoko shook her head, still not convinced. “I don’t know, Gojo. He’s not really my type. I like someone who knows how to have fun.”

“Fun? Like what? Getting hammered and dancing on tables?” Gojo teased, nudging her playfully. “Geto’s chill side can be fun too. Just wait till you see him at a party; he knows how to let loose!”

Back in the other room, Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the lively banter happening just out of sight. It reminded her of the carefree moments she used to enjoy before the complications of life weighed her down. Toji, still focused on her, gently brushed his thumb over her cheek, bringing her attention back to their conversation.

“Whatever pace you want, Y/n, I’ll respect it,” he said softly. “But just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his presence settle over her, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit. “Okay, let’s take it slow,” she repeated, determination filling her voice.

Toji smiled, that familiar spark of mischief in his eyes. “Good, because I’ve got a lot I want to show you. Just promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?” Y/n asked, curiosity piquing as she leaned into him slightly.

“Promise me you won’t shut me out,” Toji replied, his voice steady and sincere. “We’ll figure this out together, no matter how complicated it gets.”

Y/n nodded slowly, knowing that despite the chaos in their lives, there was a flicker of hope—perhaps even a chance for something beautiful to blossom amidst the madness.

Toji's gaze followed Y/n as she walked out of her room, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “So this is... did you change outfits to drive me? Y/n, what kind of timing are you on, for real?”

Y/n laughed, the sound light and teasing as she made her way to the living room, leaving Toji to admire the way her shorts hugged her figure. It was a sight that made him momentarily forget all the chaos swirling in his life.

As she settled between Shoko and Mei Mei, Toji leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, unable to tear his eyes away from her. The three girls were animated, their laughter ringing out as they joked and talked, but all he could focus on was Y/n. The way she laughed, the way she moved—it all drew him in.

“Damn, she’s stunning,” Toji muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. He felt a rush of warmth fill his chest, a mix of admiration and desire as he continued to watch her.

“Earth to Toji!” Gojo’s voice broke through his trance, pulling him back to reality.

Toji shook his head slightly, trying to play it cool. “What?” he replied, feigning indifference as he turned to Gojo, who was smirking at him knowingly.

“Just making sure you weren’t drooling over Y/n or anything,” Gojo teased, raising an eyebrow. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

“Shut up,” Toji shot back, but there was no real bite to his words. “I’m just... observing.”

“Observing, huh? You should probably do that from a distance, man. She might actually think you’re creepy,” Gojo jokes, earning a chuckle from Mei Mei and Shoko.

Toji rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin forming on his lips. “Yeah, right. Like you’re one to talk about being creepy.”

As the banter continued, Y/n caught Toji’s eye across the room, a knowing smile creeping onto her face. She leaned slightly forward, her curiosity piqued. “What are you looking at, Toji?”

“Just admiring the view,” he replied smoothly, his voice low and teasing, eliciting laughter from the girls around her.

“Uh-huh, sure. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Y/n shot back, her playful tone hinting at the chemistry simmering between them.

Toji shrugged, leaning against the wall as he enjoyed the moment. “Can you blame me? You look good, Y/n. Just don’t let it get to your head.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically, though a faint blush crept onto her cheeks. “As if I need your validation, Zenin.”

“Careful,” he replied, a teasing smirk on his face, “keep talking like that, and I might just take it personally.”

Y/n laughed again, and Toji’s heart raced. The playful back-and-forth felt easy, like they were slipping back into a rhythm he had missed during their time apart. For a moment, everything else faded away—the drama, the lies, the pressures of their lives outside this moment. All that mattered was the connection they shared, a spark that ignited between them, promising that this was just the beginning.

Toji checked his phone, feeling the weight of his commitment to Shui pressing down on him. He glanced up at Y/n, who was laughing with her friends, and decided he couldn't leave without saying something first.

He walked over and squatted down to meet her gaze, his eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, the noise around them faded, and all he could focus on was the way her smile lit up the room. Without thinking twice, he leaned in and kissed her deeply, pouring all the pent-up feelings he had into that single moment.

“I need to go,” he murmured against her lips when he pulled back, his voice low and serious. “I’ll text you when I’m free.”

Then, leaning closer, he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “Keep her wanting and wet for me.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as his words sank in. The teasing, flirtatious nature of his comment hung in the air, igniting a mixture of excitement and confusion within her. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words got caught in her throat as Toji stood up, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“See you later,” he said casually, though the intensity in his gaze suggested he wouldn’t forget this moment anytime soon.

As he walked away, Y/n felt a rush of adrenaline course through her, her mind racing with his parting words. She exchanged glances with Shoko and Mei Mei, who were both grinning knowingly.

“What was that all about?” Shoko teased, nudging Y/n playfully.

Y/n shook her head, still flustered. “I have no idea,” she replied, though a smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Mei Mei leaned in, her expression mischievous. “Looks like someone’s got you wrapped around his finger. Careful, or he might start thinking he can have you anytime he wants.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't help the warmth spreading through her. “Yeah, right. As if it’s that simple.”

“Seems pretty simple to me,” Mei Mei shot back, a knowing glint in her eye.

Meanwhile, Toji stepped outside, a rush of exhilaration coursing through him. His heart was racing, not just from the kiss but from the thrill of the chase he felt with Y/n. He had left her wanting more, and that was precisely the plan.

As he got into his car, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of their heated interactions. For the first time in a while, he felt alive—caught between the chaos of his life and the intoxicating pull of Y/n. He fired up the engine and drove off, the city lights blurring past him as he headed to meet Shui, anticipation bubbling beneath the surface.

Toji drove through the familiar streets, the engine's roar echoing his restless thoughts. Despite the intensity of his earlier encounter with Y/n, a tension lingered in the back of his mind—the lingering repercussions of his double life. He glanced at his phone, but there were no new messages from Shui. Just as well; he needed to focus on one thing at a time.

Arriving at their usual meet-up spot, an abandoned warehouse at the edge of town, Toji parked and stepped out, the cold night air hitting him like a splash of icy water. He spotted Shui leaning against his motorcycle, a smirk on his face as he took a drag from a cigarette.

“Look who decided to show up,” Shui called, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Did you forget how to drive or something?”

Toji rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a grin. “Had a little… detour,” he replied, his thoughts still drifting back to Y/n’s surprised expression and the warmth of her body against his.

“Detour, huh? Let me guess, that girl is trouble.” Shui pushed off from the bike, his tone shifting to one of genuine concern. “You need to be careful with her, Toji. You know how things can get messy.”

Toji shrugged it off, his demeanor shifting to a more guarded stance. “I know what I’m doing. She’s just a girl,” he said, but even he could hear the lack of conviction in his words.

“Just a girl?” Shui raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer. “You’re really going to play it like that? Because from what I hear, you usually don't act the fool for any girl.”

Toji sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m just trying to keep things simple. She doesn’t need to know about my life. I’m not dragging her into this.”

Shui’s expression softened, sensing the conflict within Toji. “Just be careful. You know how our world works. Things can turn dark quickly. And you’ve got a lot of people who’d love to use that against you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind,” Toji replied, more dismissively than he intended. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. He pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the moment.

“So, what’s the deal tonight?” he asked, changing the subject as he leaned against the car. “You said you had news?”

Shui nodded, glancing around as if to ensure they were alone. “I’ve been hearing some whispers. There’s a new player in town, someone stirring up trouble, and they’re interested in street racing. I thought you should know.”

Toji’s interest piqued. “What do you mean ‘new player’?”

“Word is, they’re not just racing for fun. They’re looking to make a statement, and they won’t hesitate to get their hands dirty,” Shui explained, a serious edge creeping into his voice. “I just want you to be careful. You’re a known name, and I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

“Got it,” Toji said, his mind racing. This could complicate everything. He couldn’t afford to let anyone disrupt what he had with Y/n, especially with all the chaos brewing on the streets.

“Are you going to race this new guy?” Shui asked, eyeing him closely.

Toji shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll check it out, but I’m not looking for trouble.”

“Just remember—trouble has a way of finding you,” Shui warned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot.

“Yeah, well, I’m not planning on making it easy for them,” Toji replied, determination hardening in his gaze.

Back at Y/n's Apartment

Meanwhile, back at Y/n’s apartment, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the tense air Toji was now navigating. Shoko and Mei Mei were sprawled out on the couch, the low hum of music filling the space as they chatted and giggled, sipping on drinks.

Y/n, however, was lost in thought, replaying the moments with Toji over and over in her head. His kiss, his words—it was all consuming, leaving her torn between excitement and uncertainty.

“Are you going to keep staring at that wall, or are you going to join us?” Mei Mei called out playfully, pulling Y/n from her thoughts.

Y/n blinked, shaking her head as if to clear it. “What? Sorry, just… thinking.”

“About Toji, right?” Shoko asked, a knowing smile on her face.

Y/n couldn’t help but blush. “Maybe,” she admitted, a hint of a smile forming.

“Girl, you’re totally into him,” Mei Mei teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “What’s the deal? Is he your new boyfriend or what?”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile. “It’s not that simple. We’ve barely talked, and he just walked into my life like a whirlwind.”

“Yeah, but it’s a hot whirlwind,” Shoko chimed in, leaning forward. “You can’t deny there’s chemistry. I mean, did you see the way he looked at you?”

“Exactly! He’s a bad boy, and you know you like that,” Mei Mei added, sipping her drink.

“I just… I don’t know if I want to jump into something like that,” Y/n admitted, her brow furrowing. “What if it ends badly?”

“Then you deal with it,” Shoko said, shrugging. “You’re a strong woman. You’ll bounce back. But you have to admit, there’s something there.”

Y/n sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Maybe. But I don’t want to rush anything. I want to take it slow.”

Mei Mei smirked. “So you like it slow, huh?”

Y/n shot her a glare, trying to hide the smile. “You know what I mean! I just want to figure things out without it getting complicated.”

“Complicated?” Shoko scoffed. “With a guy like Toji? That’s like trying to play chess with a raccoon. He’s all instinct, no rules.”

Y/n laughed, the tension in her chest easing. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But still…”

“Just be open to it,” Mei Mei encouraged, her expression softening. “Life is too short to overthink everything.”

Back to Toji

Toji returned to his car after catching up with Shui, his thoughts drifting back to Y/n. He had left her with so many unanswered questions, but there was something about her that drew him in—her fierce spirit, her passion for life. He couldn’t let his world tarnish that light.

As he drove back into the city, he felt a mixture of anticipation and dread. His life was a constant balancing act, and with the new threats emerging, he was worried about how it would affect Y/n. He just wanted to keep her safe, but as the saying goes, you can’t protect someone from everything, especially when they’re already part of a dangerous game.

He pulled out his phone, staring at Y/n’s contact. Should he text her now or wait until things settle down? The moment felt too precarious, like a tightly wound spring ready to snap at any moment.

But for now, all he could do was wait.

#fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #toji x black y/n #toji x black reader #black!fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x fem reader #sherewrytes #modernaujjk

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flemingsfreckles · 8 months ago

Text

Replacement Part 8

Read the previous parts HERE

Warnings: general discussion of anxiety, internalized homophobia, mention of parental abuse (emotional and physical), language

WC: 3.2k

A/N: I’ll be honest, I’m struggling with my motivation to write this series at the moment so unfortunately I feel like updates will be a little far apart, but you never know 🤷‍♀️

Going back to training after the wedding was harder than you had imagined. You had to drag yourself out of bed that morning, everything in you wanting to call out knowing you’d have to see Jessie. It wasn’t just getting to training that had been hard, the hours seemed to go by slowly once you had arrived at the facility. You kept to yourself, you were quiet, you kept your head down and just tried to work and get through the hours. Training was easier said than done when your head was filled with a thousand thoughts of your own teammate kissing you.

Jessie had done her best to keep her distance. She knew you didn’t want to talk in the way you avoided her glance, choosing to stare at the floor, the way you ignored her many calls and texts for the first few days until she stopped trying. She still would send a message every couple of days, wishing you well, offering an apology, or asking to talk to you.

You knew she felt guilty, the way she’d give you a look of pity and regret when your eyes would accidentally meet or when the two of you were forced to be training partners. She didn’t push the subject, never asking or questioning what was happening between the two of you. She only spoke to you when necessary for training. It hurt, you ached to speak to her again and a small part of you ached to be physically close to her again, but you knew you couldn’t. So you kept your head down and carried on keeping your distance.

You knew your other teammates noticed. They noticed you were quiet, a couple of them asking you what was up. You brushed them off, telling them it was nothing, you just hadn’t slept well, you had a headache, you used all of the excuses most of them believed you.

Janine didn’t though. Which led to a heavy handed knock on your door on your day off from training.

“What are you doing here?” You said upon seeing Janine’s face through the opening of the door.

“You’ve been weird and I’m your friend, so I’m checking on you.”

“I’m good Janine.” Your hand finds the doorknob ready to shut it.

“I think you’re lying.” She puts her foot between the door and the door frame, her hand coming to push on the door. You watch as she takes in the sight of your apartment behind you. It was a mess, a physical manifestation of what the inside of your brain felt like. “I’m coming in.”

“Fine.” You say before turning and heading to slump on the couch. You knew this was inevitable, you knew she’d break you down and figure out what was wrong, she’d know everything in the next few hours. But that didn’t mean you’d just offer up the information easily.

Janine follows you to the couch and sits down. The way she looks at you makes you think she already knows way too much. “What happened at my wedding?”

“You got married.” You respond, stating the obvious, you couldn’t slip up, even if she already knew something was weird.

Janine rolls her eyes at you. “You know that’s not what I mean. There was something that happened with you.”

“It’s nothing.” You mumble. The tightness in your chest was already building slowly.

“Okay.” Janine clasps her hands across her lap, watching you. “I know something happened, you’ve been weird since.”

“Nothing happened.”

“That’s not what Jessie said.” Those words from her mouth make your stomach drop.

“She told you?!” You knew Jessie and Janine were close, but you didn’t expect her to tell Janine, it was her experience to share too, you just hadn’t thought about it.

“So something did happen. And no, she didn’t tell me what happened. She told me I should check on you, but she didn’t give me details. She refused.”

That’s when the panic started to creep back in. You had managed to push the memory of the kiss from your brain, suppressing it so far.

“Janine I can’t.” The tightness started to build in your chest, spreading to your throat.

“Can’t what?” She had such a concerned look across her face. You trusted Janine, she was safe, she wouldn’t scream or yell, or try to change you. She wouldn’t hit you.

“I can’t, I don’t, I, I don’t like her, I can’t want her, she’s a girl, I can’t be g-” your choke on your words before you can even get it out. You can feel your lungs burning, feeling tight, unable to catch your breath. You’re blinking hard and fast trying to keep the tears from spilling out.

“Look at me.” Janine’s hand reaches for the bottom of your face, her action floods your body with the same panic you did when your parents made a move toward your face. You flinch and try to scramble away from her. You watch as her own eyes widen, her hand immediately retracting. “I’m sorry.” She places her hand out to you, offering it, but not forcing you to make contact with her.

You let one hand reach slowly out to her. Her hand is warm, soft and you’re reminded again, this is Janine. She’s not your parents.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She starts taking deep breaths and you try your best to mimic her. She gently rubs her thumb across the knuckles of your hand.

You’re able to catch your breath finally, now feeling exhausted. “I can’t be gay.” You finally manage to murmur the words out before another wave of tears comes out. You watch Janine’s face flash with confusion. She doesn’t say anything immediately, letting you cry while she help your hand.

The two of you stay, sitting Janine silently comforting you as you cried. When you finally catch your breath, you glance up at her. You feel embarrassed, embarrassed that you were admitting this to her, embarrassed about your breakdown. You quickly glance back down to your lap. “Sorry.” You mumble up to her.

“Don’t be.” You hear her take a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?” Janine says.

“Yeah.”

“Why not?” She asked, but you knew deep down, she already knew the answer, or at least some of it. “So what if you’re gay, that’s okay.”

“Janine, I don't want to talk about this.” A twinge of annoyance starts to make itself known in your voice. You didn’t want to talk, you couldn’t, you’d managed to push it down for so long, but here it was threatening to bubble over. You continued to avoid her eyes.

“Is that what you were told as a kid? That it was wrong, you couldn’t be gay?” You give a weak attempt at a nod and Janine continues. “Your parents tell you that?” Another nod. “Is that why you don’t speak to them?” You don’t nod to her third question, instead you shrug. The issue with your parents was bigger than just them telling you you can’t like girls, it was so much more than that.

“I am so sorry.” She says and you’re finally able to muster the courage to look at Janine’s face. “I know it’s not just as easy as me saying this, but there’s nothing wrong with you for wanting to love someone, even if that’s another girl.”

“I know, and I promise I’m not homophobic, anyone can do whatever, none of my business, it’s just I, I can’t be, that would prove them right.” You quickly realize your own panic may have given Janine the wrong idea about your views.

“Prove who right?” She asks gently, your hand still sitting in hers.

Already emotionally vulnerable, you break down at her question and you let it all out. All of the details.

You tell Janine about Grace first.

You start off by explaining she was your best friend and then about how your parents suspected the two of you were together. You tell her how your parents had thrown you out one night into the cold, with no place to go. You tell her how you had run to Grace, she was your safe place. You tell her you didn’t have feelings for Grace, or at least that you knew of. You then mention how you kissed Grace at her house. How it had felt right, but it wasn’t.

You then tell her what you endured after that kiss. You told her how your parents had brought you back home, how they lectured and screamed at you, day after day. How they drilled into your brain that being gay was wrong. You told her how confusing it all was for you. You were just a kid. You tell her how you didn’t know what those feelings you had meant then and you don’t know what those feelings mean when you had them in college and you still now don’t know what they mean.

You even tell her how your parents had hit you. It slips out, it wasn’t something you intended to share but you said it and it was too late to take it back. The moment the sentence leaves your mouth Janine’s face is filled with anger and followed by a look of hurt and compassion, the standard look of pity. Pity was something you saw often, when you mentioned you didn’t speak to your parents or siblings, pity was always the look everyone gave you.

You try to move quickly past mentioning the physical abuse you endured, instead you tell her how you were able to hide once you moved to Stanford, how you cut them off and haven’t seen or heard from them recently. When you finally stop talking the silence consumes the room, an uncomfortable tension sitting between the two of you.

“Can I hug you?” Janine asks, you only notice now that her eyes are glossy, filled with tears.

“Yeah.” You say as Janine opens her arms, letting you move into her. You’re practically laying in her lap hugging her. Her arms feel safe, they wrap tightly around you, holding you close.

“I am so sorry, you didn’t deserve any of that, no one does.” She says. “I had no idea.”

“No one does, it’s not something I usually share.” You mumble into her shirt.

The two of you stay like that, on the couch, her holding you tightly, you hugging her back, trying to relax yourself as much as you can. It feels like an hour passes by the time you decide to push yourself off of her.

“Do you want to talk anymore?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. It was nice talking to her, finally letting it all out, but at the same time it was emotionally exhausting reliving those memories just to tell her.

She nods and smiles at you. “Okay, can I ask you some things and if you don’t want to answer you don’t have to?”

“Yeah, sure.” It wasn’t like you had much left to hide at this point, you had fully exposed yourself to Janine, a couple more questions couldn’t hurt.

“Do you think you have feelings for a girl? Is that why you’re suddenly feeling like this?”

You shrug at her. “Maybe, I don’t know, it’s confusing, there’s different feelings, but I don’t know what they are, I think I’m just confused.”

“Okay, that’s fine, you don’t have to know what the feelings are or what they mean.” Her reassurance made you feel at ease, she wasn’t here to pry, to tell you to figure it out, she was hear to listen. She pauses for a moment before looking at you. “Is that girl Jessie?”

The mention of her name has your stomach turning with a mix of nerves and butterflies. You let your eyes meet hers for a moment, silently telling her she was right. Janine slowly nods at you, a small smile starts to creep across her lips which she quickly bites away.

“Okay.” Janine says. “That’s it, I’m done pestering you. I’m not going to ask what happened at the wedding, that’s obviously between the two of you, but if you do want to talk about her, you can, I won’t mention it to her.”

“Thank you.”

“For pestering you?” Janine says with a smile.

“No, for coming over, for checking on me.” You hadn’t been a fan when she showed up, but the relief you felt currently was unbelievable. It was like a weight that had been on your shoulders for years was a little bit lighter, someone knew your past, all of it. Even if it was one single person, it made a difference.

“You’re my little rookie, I’m always looking out for you.” She says a hand patting your thigh.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” You quickly request, realizing now that while you’d only told one person, that meant your biggest secret was no longer a secret.

“I wouldn’t, nothing we talked about will leave this room. Do you want me to at least let Jessie know I checked with you and you’re alright?”

“I think it would be better coming from me, I need to talk to her.” You didn’t want to talk to her, but it had been long enough, you were being selfish avoiding her, especially after she had cared enough to send Janine to check on you.

“Okay.” Janine nods. “Do you want me to go now? I know that was probably a lot. I’m sure you’re tired, you deserve a little rest.” She says starting to stand up from the couch.

“Can you stay? If not that’s okay, just I think having someone around would be nice.” You ask, the idea of being left alone in your silent apartment with your thoughts was a little too overwhelming at the moment.

“I can stay as long as you need.”

Janine stays for a few hours, the two of you play cards, she helps you tidy you apartment much to your refusal. You had made the mess in your state of chaos, she shouldn’t have to clean it, but she did anyway. You helped, tidying each room until it resembled a clean, livable space.

You then insisted Janine head home, feeling better about yourself and your mental well being, you could handle the rest of the night. As you walked Janine toward the door you thanked her again for coming to check on you.

“It’s really no big deal, we’re friends, I’m always going to take care of my friends.” She says slipping on her shoes. “If you ever need to talk again, I’m here.”

“Thank you.” As Janine goes to grab the door you speak up. “I’m going to talk to her, to Jessie.”

Janine nods at you. “Can I give you advice?” You nod letting her continue. “Just be honest with her, as honest as you can be or feel comfortable being. I know that I don’t know what happened, but she’s pretty understanding, if she did something to upset you I’m sure she didn’t mean it, just how I’m sure you didn’t mean to upset her if that’s the case.”

“Thanks.” You say, a tight lipped smile on your face. You had been able to avoid the fact that you had to talk to Jessie after this. You held open the door for Janine.

“I love ya kid, if you need me I’m just a call away.”

When you close the door you're left with a deafening silence. You look to the counter top where your phone sat. You had to talk to her. Wandering over you pick up your phone, staring at the screen as you try to force yourself to unlock it.

You finally swipe your thumb across the screen and make your way into your texts. Scrolling to find Jessie’s name and clicking on it, finally opening almost weeks worth of ignored texts. You had read most of them through the notification but you skimmed them again.

Most of them were her asking to talk to you, a couple of apologies, a couple offers to take you to coffee. The most recent text just asked if you were okay. You felt guilty reading back the texts, Jessie had been nothing but caring and concerned about you after what had happened, after you had run away from her. You hadn’t bothered to check on her once.

You took a deep breath as your thumb hovered over the call button, you could make it easy and just text her, but this didn’t seem like a text conversation. You feel your thumb make contact with the screen and before you know it the phone is ringing. It rings, and rings, and rings. Just before you’re convinced it will go to voicemail, the ringing stops.

“Hello?” Jessie’s voice comes through the line.

“Uh.” You panic for a moment at the sound of her voice. “Hi. Can we talk?”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for a week now.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready to talk, but I think I am now.”

“Okay, then talk.” You can hear the obvious frustration and annoyance in Jessie’s voice, her words coming out sharper than usual.

“Um.” You can’t even begin to find out where to start. You let a silence fall on the line, trying to sort your thoughts, you can hear Jessie moving around for a moment before there’s silence again. You sit, drowning in the silence, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts and also feeling completely empty. “Do you want to come over?”

“Tonight, it’s kinda late is it not?”

“I was thinking tomorrow? Whatever works, I just, I think this would be better in person. I owe you that.” You also didn’t mind the fact that tomorrow would buy you a couple of hours to prepare for what you were going to say to her.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

“Okay. Ten tomorrow morning sound okay?”

“Sure.” It was uncharacteristic the way Jessie was being short with you.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” You tried to sound as if you were excited to see her, and part of you was. You’d be a liar if you said you weren’t also terrified at the idea of seeing Jessie again and talking to her.

“Okay.”

“Bye Jessie.” She doesn’t say goodbye, or even bye at all, you instead are met with the beeping of the call ending. You put your phone down before bringing your hands to your face, rubbing them hard down from your forehead to your neck as you let out a huge breath.

You now had to think of exactly what you wanted to say to her, and exactly what you didn’t want to say to her in less than 12 hours.

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #jessie fleming blurb #canwnt x reader

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aryadelvich · 1 month ago

Note

can you write a best friends to lovers headcanons or foc for luigi plsss 🥲💕

Hii !! Thank you for your request. I wrote the best friend one. But sorry what is a foc ? But here it is.

If you’re looking for more of my work here’s an Updated Masterlist

Are we still friend ? - Luigi Mangione x Reader

You were lying on the grass, sunglasses perched on your nose, soaking up the sun. Your friends were all sitting nearby, chatting while you daydreamed. Luigi was to your right, engrossed in a book.

You sat up, rolling onto your stomach to watch him.

"You can read?" you teased.

"Shut up, Yn. You make that joke every time it’s getting old," he replied automatically.

"Can’t even joke with you," you pouted.

"I'm busy. Go bother someone else," he said, still buried in his book.

You sighed. It wasn’t fun when he ignored you. Luigi was your best friend—you had shared everything since you were eight years old. You were inseparable, and until now, that had never been a problem for anyone. But ever since you got a boyfriend, and Luigi got a girlfriend, things had changed. Your partners weren’t exactly thrilled about your natural closeness.

That’s why you were messing with him now—his girlfriend wasn’t around, so you were taking advantage of it.

"What are you reading, Lulu?"

He sighed and placed his book down on the page where he had left off.

"I'm not reading anymore because you're annoying me."

"Come on, talk to me. I’m bored," you said, nudging his shoulder lightly.

"No, go find someone else to play with."

He went back to his book. You pouted, frustrated by his indifference. It wasn’t like before. Before, he would have sighed, put his book down, grumbled a little, but eventually, he would have talked to you and joked around.

Now, it was different. Ever since he got a girlfriend, he had been… more distant.

You grabbed the book from his hands and lifted it out of his reach.

"Yn, give that back."

"Not until you talk to me."

He rolled his eyes but reached out to retrieve his book. You leaned back, laughing, holding it above your head.

"What is it?" you asked curiously.

"Give it back."

He sat up, trying to snatch it from you, but you rolled to the side, dodging his arm.

"You’re unbearable, seriously."

"You don’t want to talk to me?"

"I just want to read my book."

He leaned in closer, your chests almost touching, your noses nearly brushing. You flashed him a defiant smile.

"Are you really attacking a defenseless girl?"

"You’re not a girl, you’re a pain in the ass," he muttered, but you noticed the smile he was trying to suppress.

Then Luigi turned his head and spotted your boyfriend standing above you, watching the scene.

"Oh look, your boyfriend’s here. Go bother him instead," he said, pulling away and using your distraction to snatch the book from your hands. You sit up, inviting your boyfriend to sit next to you.

Luigi leans in and whispers in your ear, "Now you're ignoring me? Am I just your backup plan?"

"Shut up," you say, giving him a light, harmless elbow nudge.

Luigi chuckles softly and shakes his head before diving back into his book, but you can tell he's still listening in on your conversation with your boyfriend.

"Everything okay?" your boyfriend asks as he sits down beside you.

"Yeah, we were just talking with Luigi."

"Ah… still glued to each other like always, huh."

You raise an eyebrow. "You're exaggerating."

He doesn’t reply, but you catch the annoyance in his eyes.

Luigi casually turns a page in his book before smirking, "Well, to be fair, Yn loves sticking to me. She wouldn’t survive without me."

You shoot him a glare. "Oh, now you decide to talk?"

Your boyfriend crosses his arms. "Are you two always like this?"

"Always," Luigi answers before you can say anything.

You elbow him a little harder this time, but he just laughs.

"Relax, I’m joking."

Your boyfriend doesn’t seem convinced, and the atmosphere grows slightly tense. Luigi, on the other hand, resumes his reading as if nothing happened, but you know him too well. He’s doing this on purpose.

And strangely, it unsettles you.

You should be annoyed, not… troubled.

Just as the tension starts to build between you and your boyfriend, a feminine voice interrupts.

"Luigi! I’ve been looking for you everywhere."

You look up and see his girlfriend approaching, a soft smile on her lips, though her gaze lingers on you a little too long before shifting to Luigi.

"Oh, you were busy…" she says, her tone making it clear she’s not too happy about the scene in front of her.

Luigi, however, looks completely unbothered. He closes his book and sits up slightly.

"I was trying to read, but Yn was bothering me."

You roll your eyes.

His girlfriend lets out a forced laugh and sits beside him, pressing herself a little too close, as if marking her territory.

"Already missing me?" Luigi places a hand on her thigh and smiles at her, but you can’t help but notice his attention is still somewhat divided between her and you.

"A little," she replies, resting her head on his shoulder before shooting a quick glance in your direction. "You two are really… close, huh?"

You can tell the question is directed at you, so you shrug.

"We’ve known each other since we were kids. It’s normal."

Luigi smirks. "Yn wouldn’t survive without me."

You open your mouth to protest, but his girlfriend reacts before you do. And you can’t help but mentally call him an idiot.

"That’s funny… because I feel like it’s actually you who couldn’t survive without her."

Luigi raises an eyebrow, surprised by the comment, but doesn’t respond immediately. You cross your arms, waiting to see if he’ll say anything, but he simply stares at his girlfriend with a small, unreadable smile.

"Are you jealous?" he finally asks, amused.

She furrows her brows slightly and lets out a nervous laugh. "No, not at all. But you have to admit, from the outside, it could be misleading…"

You want to step in, but you prefer not to get involved. She doesn't respond, but her gaze says it all. She doesn’t like how close you are to Luigi, and you can almost hear what she’s thinking: can a girl and a guy really just be friends?

Your boyfriend, who had remained silent until now, finally speaks up.

"Anyway, I’d prefer if we avoided situations like this. It’s not exactly pleasant."

You sigh. "There is no ‘situation.’ You’re making a big deal out of nothing."

But as you say that, you feel Luigi’s gaze on you. Intense. Almost different.

You turn to him. "What?"

He holds your gaze for a few seconds before giving a small smile and shrugging.

"Nothing."

Nothing.

"But believe me, this is purely platonic. We could kiss, and nothing would happen. No butterflies. Nothing. It’s just you," Luigi explains.

You nod, completely agreeing with him.

"Can I talk to you in private, Yn?" your boyfriend asks.

You nod and follow him.

"I’ve been holding back since the beginning, but now that we’ve been together for a few months, I have to admit… your closeness with Luigi bothers me," he confesses, looking both worried and sad.

"But you have nothing to worry about."

"I don’t doubt your loyalty, but I’d feel better if you put some distance between you two," he adds.

You don’t know what to do. You definitely don’t want to sacrifice such a good friendship that has always worked well for a relationship that could potentially end badly. But your boyfriend was perfect—always there for you, kind, caring. He was a good boyfriend.

"Okay, I’ll keep my distance. You don’t have to worry," you reply reluctantly.

Your boyfriend smiles and kisses your forehead.

The following days, you do what you promised. You put distance between yourself and Luigi.

You stop texting him all day long, you no longer bother him, you don’t look for him in a crowded room. You even avoid sitting next to him when you're with your friends.

And Luigi notices it immediately.

At first, he thinks you're just busy, that it’ll pass. But when he realizes you're ignoring him on purpose, he starts to feel an emptiness.

He gets bored. He gets irritated over nothing. He stares at his phone, waiting for a message from you that never comes. And when he sees you—even briefly—everything goes back to normal in a fraction of a second. Your conversations, your ridiculous arguments, all of it. It’s as if nothing had changed. As if you were meant to be in each other's lives.

But your boyfriend eventually sees it too.

One evening, while you’re simply talking—just a normal conversation—he suddenly snaps.

"I can’t take this anymore, Yn."

You freeze. "What?"

"You say you’re just friends, but I see it. When you look at him, when you talk to him, it’s different. I refuse to be the second choice."

You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head.

"It’s over. I’d rather end this now than wait for the moment you realize it’s him."

He walks away, leaving you alone with a lump in your throat.

The next day, you try to act normal, but Luigi doesn’t make it easy.

"So, dumped, huh?" he teases, dropping into the chair next to you with an infuriating grin. "Didn’t see that one coming."

You roll your eyes. "Shut up, Luigi."

"Oh, come on. I mean, he had a point." He leans in slightly, smirking. "You’re kind of obsessed with me."

You grab a piece of crumpled paper from the table and throw it at his face. He just laughs.

"I’m serious, though. Should I be worried? You gonna start crying every time you see me?"

You glare at him. "Keep talking, and we’ll see who’s crying first."

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, I’m just saying-"

"Luigi, shut up," you snap, and this time, he does. But the smug expression stays.

One week later, it’s his turn.

You're at a party when it happens. Luigi and his girlfriend are arguing—nothing unusual, except this time, she’s not just annoyed. She’s done.

"Luigi, do you realize just how… unbearable you two are together?" she says, exasperated.

Luigi frowns. "Unbearable? What do you mean?"

She laughs, nervously"You bicker like a couple that’s been married for ten years. You’re always looking for her, she always has a comeback, and you completely forget the rest of the world. Seriously, what’s your problem?"

He opens his mouth, but she raises a hand to stop him.

"You know what? Forget it. I get it now. You were never really with me, not the way you are with her."

She shakes her head and walks away, disappearing into the crowd.

Luigi stays silent for a moment before sighing.

You tilt your head. "Should I be worried? You gonna start crying every time you see me?"

He groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "I hate you."

You grin. "Relax, I’m just saying-"

"Yn, shut up."

This time, you do. But the smug expression stays.

A few weeks later, at a party with your friends, a dare game begins. The atmosphere is light, laughter fills the room, and everyone seems to take great pleasure in coming up with absurd challenges.

Until one of your friends, smirking, announces a dare for you and Luigi.

"Well, since you two already act like an old married couple, we’re giving you a real challenge. You have to kiss. Passionately. For ten seconds."

Silence falls over the group.

You turn to Luigi, who is already looking at you. There’s a mix of challenge and amusement in his eyes.

"Seriously?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well yeah, you’re just friends, right? It shouldn’t be a big deal!" someone jokes.

You cross your arms, shooting a glare at your friends. They knew exactly what they were doing.

Luigi, on the other hand, smiles. He turns to you and shrugs.

"Shall we prove there’s nothing there, then?"

His tone is playful, but you detect a slight hesitation in his voice.

You sigh, pretend to think it over, then shrug back.

"Alright. Ten seconds is nothing."

Everyone starts counting out loud.

Ten.

Luigi leans in slightly.

Nine.

You place your hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

Eight.

He slides a hand to the back of your neck, his eyes locked onto yours.

Seven.

You swallow discreetly. Why is your heart racing?

Six.

He moves closer, his warm breath brushing against your lips.

Five.

A shiver runs down your spine.

Four.

Your lips barely graze each other’s.

Three.

Then he kisses you.

Two.

The world around you fades away.

One.

You should stop.

Zero.

But neither of you moves.

"Ten! Well?" one of your friends asks, as curious as everyone else. They had been watching this like it was a TV show.

You pull away, grateful for the dim lighting in the room that hides the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Didn't feel a thing," you lie.

"Same," Luigi adds, throwing you a quick glance, as if trying to analyze whether you had the same reaction.

The party resumes, but you can’t focus. The kiss lingers in your mind. You had never felt anything like that before.

When everyone’s attention shifts away from you, you seize the moment. You tap Luigi on the shoulder and motion for him to follow you. He does, without question.

Upstairs, you step into a bedroom, closing the door behind you. Your heart is still pounding a little too fast. Luigi is already there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He watches you, the faintest smile on his lips.

"So…" he starts.

You lean against the desk behind you, searching for the right words.

"That was weird, right?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Weird?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, weird." You take a deep breath. "And I can’t tell if it was just the rush of the moment or… something else."

Luigi doesn’t answer right away. He studies you, as if looking for an answer on your face. Then, after a moment, he lets out a small laugh.

"We could do it again."

You snap your head up, surprised.

He pushes off the wall, stepping closer. "Just to see if it was because of our friends, or if it’s… something else."

You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out if he’s joking, but his expression is serious.

"Just a scientific experiment, huh?"

"Exactly."

A pause. You hesitate for a second, then shrug.

"Alright. Just to be sure."

Luigi moves in slowly. He’s right in front of you now, but he doesn’t make the first move right away. His eyes search yours, giving you a chance to pull away.

But you don’t.

So you both lean in at the same time. And you kiss.

This time, it’s slower. There are no cheers, no friends counting down. Just him. Just you.

And it’s worse.

Because this time, there’s no excuse.

You're pressed against each other, and now that the uncertainty is gone, it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. You kiss again and again, never pulling apart. But eventually, you have to breathe, so you part—reluctantly.

You study his expression. He looks more shaken than ever, just as dazed as you feel.

"Well?" His voice is rough, his breathing uneven.

You inhale deeply, trying to gather your thoughts.

"It was…" You struggle to find the words.

"Different," he finishes for you. You nod slowly.

Silence falls between you, heavy with something unspoken.

"So, what’s the scientific explanation?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Luigi runs a hand through his hair, looking thoughtful.

"I have no idea."

You laugh, a little nervously.

"This is stupid. We’re just friends."

"Yeah. Just friends." He repeats the words, but they sound painfully unconvincing.

You feel his gaze on you, waiting for you to say something, to confirm or deny whatever just happened.

But you don’t know what to say. Because for the first time, you’re not sure how you feel anymore.

Another silence. Too heavy to ignore. Luigi leans back against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes locked on yours as if he’s still weighing his options.

Then he sighs and shakes his head.

"Shit…" he mutters.

You frown. "What?"

He looks straight at you, not avoiding your gaze this time.

"I can’t stop thinking about it."

"About what?"

"You. Us. What we just did. What I’ve wanted to do for a long time."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Luigi…"

"Listen, I know this isn’t supposed to happen. You and me, we were fine like this. We were supposed to stay best friends and make fun of all the sappy couples. But now… I can’t pretend anymore. I feel something for you, Yn. And it’s driving me insane."

You open your mouth, but no words come out. He continues, his voice quieter, more hesitant.

"I thought it was just habit. That it was because we spend so much time together. But when you started keeping your distance, it wasn’t just weird. It was unbearable. Way worse than when I got dumped. And when I kissed you just now…" He pauses, searching for the right words. "I forget everything. And I want to do it over and over."

Your breath catches, your head spinning. This is too fast, too intense.

"We can’t, Luigi…" you whisper, but even you don’t sound convinced.

He smirks slightly. "Yn, you can reject me; It’ll change nothing to our friendship"

You lower your eyes, but he steps forward, placing his hands gently on your waist. The touch sends a shiver down your spine. He’s touched you before, countless times—but never like this. Never with this much intention.

"We don’t have to tell anyone. We can take our time. But stop telling me this means nothing, because I know you felt it too."

You hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I don’t want to ruin our friendship," you admit.

"It’ll only get better. And if we’re just friends despite all this, we’ll find our way back."

You make a decision. An irrational one, maybe. But the only one that feels right.

You grab him by the collar and kiss him again.

This time, you’re the one pulling him closer.

Luigi pulls back slightly, a smug grin creeping onto his lips.

"So it’s official, huh?" he says, crossing his arms. "I’m finally going to see that wild side you always talked about with your flings."

Your cheeks heat up.

"You’re an idiot, Luigi."

He raises an eyebrow, amused. "What? You told me everything in excruciating detail. You even had the nerve to give me tips sometimes!"

You smack his arm. "Oh, and you think I forgot all the times you told me about your hookups? I know exactly how you work, Luigi. You can’t fool me."

He steps closer, eyes glinting with that familiar, playful challenge.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." You hold his gaze, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "You’re not getting away with anything, Luigi. I know all your tricks."

He bursts out laughing, shaking his head.

"Shit, I’m screwed."

You smirk, triumphant. "Completely."

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