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elikajinnie · 3 months ago

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Tokyo Drift - N.R

P: Racer!Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Teasing, Possessive Behaviour, Fluff

Synopsis: In the heart of the underground racing scene, you are a passionate starter, known for your ability to ignite excitement before each race. When you first meet Nishimura Ni-ki, a legendary driver, you are initially intimidated by him. However during the races you capture his attention.

a/n: knowing you have the attention of someone like Ni-ki is exciting tbh.. ANYWAYS i am a HUGE lover of the fast & furious franchise so this was quite overdue!! (inspired by this edit : TikTok - Make Your Day)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"I don't get why I have to be there for every race you do," you said, glancing over at your friend, who was gripping the steering wheel with one hand, the other casually shifting gears.

"Because you're the starter," he replied, his tone like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"There are other starters," you shot back. "I'm not the only one."

He raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he asked, "Do you have anything better to do than attend these races?"

You opened your mouth, ready with a rebuttal, but nothing came. After a beat, you closed your mouth and sank back into the seat.

"Yeah, exactly," he said, smug. "Plus, it's good for you to get out and meet new people."

The music from the radio blared a little louder as he cranked up the volume. You sighed, fiddling with the edge of your shirt.

"And it gives you more insight for the big race next month," he added, his eyes focused on the road ahead as the car sped past traffic.

"But that's weeks away," you mumbled under your breath, shifting your gaze out the window, watching the blur of lights and cars fly by.

"You know you’ll thank me later," he said, his voice laced with confidence as he pushed the car to go even faster.

As your friend parked the car, the tires crunching on the gravel beneath, you stepped out and took in the scene. Despite the late hour, the area was alive, glowing under huge industrial lights that bathed the lot in an artificial brightness. Cars were everywhere, a chaotic lineup of souped-up rides with booming music, others showing off their horsepower, engines roaring as they drifted in tight circles.

"Did you want to be a starter today?" your friend asked, leaning casually against the roof of his car.

You shrugged. "Sure," you replied, though your energy didn’t quite match the excitement of the crowd.

Walking away, you strolled past rows of cars, admiring their sleek designs and custom paint jobs, the polished metal gleaming under the lights. You ignored the catcalls from a group of guys leaning against a low-rider, keeping your focus ahead. Tonight, you weren’t dressed to impress��just something simple, thrown on after your friend dragged you out of the house. But your bandana was tied around your wrist, the familiar black-and-white checkered pattern standing out. It was your signature, the same one you used to signal the start of every race.

The energy around you was electric, the thrum of engines mixing with the bass-heavy beats from the cars parked nearby. You wound your way through the crowd, feeling a strange mix of familiarity and detachment. You weren’t really in the mood to be here, but this scene always had a way of pulling you in.

After a bit of wandering, you spotted some familiar faces—people you knew from past races, ones who recognized you right away. They greeted you with nods and half-smiles, pulling you into their small circle.

After hanging around for a bit, chatting with familiar faces, you eventually found yourself drifting toward the starting line. As the races kicked off, your friend waved you over, a sly grin on his face. "Looks like they need a starter," he said, tossing a glance toward the eager crowd of racers lining up. You could already feel the pull, the electricity in the air calling to you.

With a nod, you stepped forward, positioning yourself between two cars. The engines growled, their headlights casting long shadows across the pavement, illuminating your figure as you stood in the middle. Both drivers stared ahead, hands gripping the wheels, laser-focused on the moment. And then there was you—at the center of it all. The one who would signal the start.

You raised your bandana high, feeling the fabric tight around your wrist. The engines revved in response, their deep rumbling vibrating through the ground beneath your feet. All eyes were on you now. The weight of the anticipation, the intensity in the air—it made your pulse quicken.

With a swift motion, you dropped your hand, and like a spark igniting gasoline, the cars exploded forward, tires screeching and smoke billowing up behind them. The sound of engines roaring filled your ears as they sped past, kicking up dust and gravel in their wake. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, the rush of adrenaline coursing through you as you watched them disappear into the distance.

The thrill was undeniable. That moment when everything paused, when the world held its breath before you dropped the flag—it was exhilarating, addictive even.

Race after race, you found yourself sinking into the rhythm of it. Standing between two roaring machines, feeling the raw power they held, and knowing you controlled the moment they unleashed it. The vibrations from the engines, the cheers from the crowd, the smell of burning rubber—it all swirled around you, making you forget about the lazy mood you'd been in earlier.

After another race, you dusted your hands off, feeling the faint tremble of excitement still lingering in your fingers. You were enjoying yourself now, more than you’d expected. This was your element—the rush, the control, the fleeting moments where everything slowed before it erupted into chaos.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You stood with a group of women, chatting casually and enjoying the scene, when a familiar lime-green Mazda rolled up to the line. The car was loud and flashy, just like its driver. You rolled your eyes the moment you saw Haruto step out, all swagger and energy, hyping the crowd as if they hadn’t seen him race a hundred times before. He soaked in the attention, pointing fingers at people he knew, already talking trash with the other drivers.

“Here we go…” you muttered under your breath, more annoyed than amused. Haruto was good—everyone knew that—but his ego was twice the size of his talent.

Just as you were about to turn away, a sleek silver Mitsubishi pulled up to the starting line next. It immediately caught your attention. You whistled low under your breath, admiring the car’s perfect blend of black and white racing stripes that seemed to melt into the silver body like it was designed for this very moment.

“No way…” you heard Ryujin, one of your friends, murmur next to you, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

You turned your head to her, eyebrows raised. “What?”

She didn’t take her eyes off the car as she spoke. “He’s racing against Nishimura.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the name. “Wait… Nishimura?” You whipped your head back to the Mitsubishi, squinting to get a better look at the driver behind the tinted windows.

Everyone in the racing world knew who Nishimura was. His rise was meteoric. A few years ago, he’d been a no-name rookie, just another driver trying to make his mark. But that quickly changed. He became a legend on the underground circuit, with a reputation for being nearly unbeatable. But the man himself? You had never seen him in person. You'd only heard the stories—how he drove like he was born for the track, a natural who didn’t play by anyone’s rules.

Now, standing there, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of curiosity and awe. The Mitsubishi was sleek, powerful, but that wasn’t what had your attention. It was the knowledge that the man behind the wheel was one of the best to ever do it, and tonight, you’d finally get to see him race.

The crowd around you buzzed with energy, whispering Nishimura’s name like it carried some kind of magic. You felt the tension rising, a sense that something bigger than the usual street race was about to happen.

You glanced at Ryujin. “This is going to be over quick, isn’t it?”

She nodded, her eyes glued to the track. “You have no idea.”

As Haruto climbed back into his car, showboating as always, you suddenly felt hands on your back as Karina playfully shoved you forward. "Go on!" she giggled, clearly enjoying herself.

You shot her a wide-eyed look of disbelief. "Don’t push!" you huffed, but your feet had already carried you forward, right into the middle of the two revving cars. The roar of the engines surrounded you, vibrating through the air and into your bones. Standing there, between Haruto’s lime-green Mazda and the sleek Mitsubishi, you felt a surge of energy.

With a stern look, you raised your arms to get their attention. "Now I want a clean race! From both of you," you shouted, pointing between them. You narrowed your eyes specifically at Haruto, who was known to pull sneaky tricks when he got desperate. "No tricks, or jukes."

Haruto revved his engine in response, flashing his usual cocky grin, though his eyes darted toward the Mitsubishi, and for the first time, you noticed a hint of stiffness in his posture. He knew this wasn’t going to be an easy win.

"Ready?" you asked, locking eyes with him. He revved up again, the Mazda growling under the pressure, but his attention was split, clearly sizing up the competition.

Then you turned toward the Mitsubishi. "Ready?" you called, and the car’s engine roared to life, a smooth, confident sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t see through the dark windows, but you felt something different in the air—a tension you couldn’t quite place.

With a smirk, you raised your bandana high. "Go!" you shouted, waving it down. Both cars shot off the line like bullets, the roar of their engines drowning out the cheers from the crowd as they sped past you. Dust kicked up in their wake, but you stood your ground, watching as they tore through the track, navigating the turns with precision and speed.

As you turned to walk back to your spot, you didn’t know the effect you’d had.

Inside the Mitsubishi, Nishimura had almost missed his cue. The moment you’d stepped out onto the track, his focus had shifted completely. The fierce concentration he was known for had wavered. For a split second, he’d forgotten where he was, what he was doing, and what was at stake. All he could see was you, standing between the two cars, commanding the moment with confidence and authority. It was enough to throw him off—a rarity for someone like him.

It wasn’t until he saw you pointing directly at him that he snapped out of it, realizing he hadn’t revved his engine. He quickly corrected himself, the roar of the car snapping back into focus as he gunned the accelerator and sped off.

But even as he tore through the turns, effortlessly drifting and leaving Haruto in the dust, his mind kept slipping back to you. He couldn’t shake the image of you standing there,completely unbothered by the chaos around you.

By the time the race was nearing its end, Nishimura was far ahead, his car slicing through the night with ease. Haruto didn’t stand a chance, but the victory was almost secondary. Nishimura’s pulse raced with a different kind of adrenaline, one that had nothing to do with the thrill of the race.

His car roared as it crossed the finish line, its sleek frame gliding effortlessly under the neon lights. The crowd erupted into cheers, but his mind wasn’t on the race. As he pulled his car to a stop and cut the engine, the world seemed to quiet down, everything slowing for just a moment.

He exhaled, unfastened his seatbelt, and pushed open the door. Stepping out of the car, his lean frame emerged, his hair slightly tousled from the speed and wind. The crowd surged toward him, hyping up his victory, chanting his name, but Nishimura’s focus was elsewhere.

His eyes scanned the crowd, searching. It wasn’t the win that made his pulse race—it was you.

When his gaze landed on you, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you. His eyes held yours, a mix of curiosity and something you couldn't quite place, but it made your heart race.

Just as you were about to process the moment, the spell was broken by a familiar voice. "You ready to go home?" Your friend appeared beside you, jingling his keys with a grin. You blinked, startled by the sudden shift, and turned to face him.

You blinked, shaking off the lingering intensity of Nishimura's stare, "Yeah," you nodded softly, a bit dazed, before following him through the crowd. As you walked away, you couldn’t resist glancing back toward where Nishimura had been standing, but to your surprise, he was gone. Just like that.

Huh... where did he go? you thought, scanning the crowd for a sign of him, but he had seemingly vanished without a trace. A strange feeling settled in your chest—curiosity mixed with something else. You shook it off and followed your friend through the throng of people, the night air cooling as the adrenaline from the race began to fade.

When you reached your friend’s car, you leaned against the door and raised an eyebrow. "Did you even race Lucas?"

He laughed, unlocking the car and shaking his head. "Nah, didn’t bother. But I had fun." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, and you groaned, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Ugh, I did not wanna know that," you said, scrunching up your nose in mock disgust as you slid into the passenger seat.

He chuckled and turned on the engine, the car rumbling to life as he drove off into the quiet night. The ride home was comfortable, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows through the windows.

When your friend finally pulled up in front of your house, you exchanged a quick goodbye. He waved as you got out, and you offered a small smile in return, still distracted. Once inside, you kicked off your shoes, the events of the night catching up to you. A quick shower helped wash away the lingering dust and grime from the track, but it did little to clear your mind.

Finally, you collapsed into bed, your body sinking into the mattress as exhaustion pulled at you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You had been going to more races lately, every weekend like clockwork. The underground scene was alive and buzzing, with each race becoming more intense than the last. But there was one thing you noticed—a pattern that had begun to emerge. Every time you were the starter, Nishimura was there, lined up at the start with his sleek Mitsubishi, ready to race.

At first, you chalked it up to coincidence. But as the weeks passed, it became clear that it wasn’t. No matter where the races were hosted, no matter how different the crowd, Nishimura would be there. And without fail, he’d win. His driving was as smooth and precise as ever, but something about the way his eyes would linger on you just before he sped off—it left you with a strange fluttering feeling you couldn't shake.

You were about to head out when suddenly, the unmistakable wail of sirens cut through the night. In an instant, the entire atmosphere shifted. Chaos erupted as people scrambled to their cars, trying to get out before the cops could close in.

Panic surged through you as you scanned the crowd, looking for any of your friends, but the mess of people made it impossible. Cars were speeding off in every direction, headlights blurring together, and the sound of screeching tires filled the air. Your heart raced, and just as you started to feel the panic rise, a familiar sleek silver car slid to a stop beside you. The window rolled down, and there he was.

"Get in!" Nishimura shouted, his voice urgent but calm.

You didn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, you jumped into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you. Before you could even get settled, Nishimura hit the gas, and the car shot forward, weaving effortlessly between the other vehicles that were fleeing the scene. You gripped the handlebar above the door, holding on as the car sped through the narrow streets, sliding past cop cars with a precision that left you breathless.

The speedometer arrow kept climbing, the numbers blurring as the engine roared beneath you. You glanced at Nishimura, his hands steady on the wheel, his expression focused yet completely at ease. He was in his element, and you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he handled the car, as if it was an extension of him.

After a few intense minutes, the sirens grew distant, and it became clear that the cops had lost track of you. Nishimura slowed down, the adrenaline still buzzing between the two of you, but the immediate danger had passed. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, relaxing your grip on the handlebar.

Taking a moment to steady yourself, your attention drifted to the interior of the car. Everything was sleek, black, and incredibly well-maintained. The leather seats were soft beneath you, and a soft red glow emanated from under your feet, casting a warm, almost intimate light. You couldn’t help but run your fingers over the dash, admiring the attention to detail.

"You like it?" Nishimura’s voice broke the silence, casual yet with a hint of curiosity.

"I do," you said, glancing over at him. He was still looking at the road, but there was something about the way he asked that told you he was aware of more than just the street ahead of him. His attention was on you, even if his eyes weren’t.

"It fits the owner," you added with a small smile.

He let out a quiet laugh, a sound that was rare but warm. "Thanks," he said, his voice a little softer now, as if the tension from earlier had melted away.

"You don’t usually hang around after races," you said, turning your attention back to him.

He glanced at you briefly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I guess tonight was different."

You tilted your head slightly, curious. "Different how?"

His smile deepened, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted gears smoothly, the car responding instantly to his touch. "I think you know," he finally said, his tone leaving little doubt that his reason for sticking around had something to do with you.

That fluttering feeling in your chest returned, but this time, it wasn’t from the rush of the race or the chase—it was from him.

As the car cruised smoothly through the quiet streets, the earlier intensity of the night had faded into a calm, almost comfortable atmosphere between you and Nishimura. You found yourself feeling surprisingly at ease around him, despite the fact that, up until now, your interactions had been mostly limited to stolen glances and brief conversations.

"You know," he said, glancing over at you as you watched the city pass by through the window, "you don’t have to keep calling me Nishimura."

You blinked and turned to face him. "Oh, right. Is that too formal or something?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "A bit. My friends call me Ni-ki."

"Ni-ki?" you repeated, testing the name on your lips.

"Yeah. I’d rather you call me that." His voice was casual, but there was something in the way he said it that felt personal, like he was inviting you into a closer circle.

"Alright, Ni-ki it is," you said, leaning back in your seat as you relaxed. "So, what do people usually call you if they’re not your friends?"

He smirked, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Depends. Usually something like ‘dangerous,’ or ‘the guy you don’t want to race .’" He glanced at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "But I’d like to think I’m pretty easygoing."

"Right," you said, raising an eyebrow. "You seem so easygoing with the way you handle a car at 100 miles per hour."

He laughed at that, the sound low and genuine, and for a moment, it felt like you were just two people hanging out—nothing more, nothing less. The conversation drifted from racing to random topics, a natural flow of words that felt effortless. He told you about the first time he ever drove a car, how he’d been obsessed with it ever since, and you shared a few stories of your own, mostly about how you had gotten into starting races.

At some point, you noticed the city lights getting closer and realized you were nearing your neighborhood. Ni-ki glanced at you, sensing it was time to ask the inevitable question.

"Where do you want me to drop you off?"

You gave him your address, and he nodded, making a smooth turn onto a quieter street as the roar of the engine softened. The car slowed to a stop outside your building, the night air still and quiet now that the chaos had long since passed. For a brief moment, neither of you said anything.

"Thanks for the ride," you finally said, unbuckling your seatbelt but not quite ready to leave just yet.

"No problem," he replied, his voice softer now, more personal in the quiet space between you.

You lingered for a second, unsure of what to say. Something about the night felt different—like it had marked the beginning of something, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Ni-ki seemed to sense it too, the way he looked at you, his eyes lingering just a little longer.

"Take care," you said, finally breaking the silence.

"You too," he replied, his gaze never wavering. "See you around?"

"Yeah," you nodded, feeling a strange sense of anticipation that you couldn’t explain. "Definitely."

With one last glance, you stepped out of the car and closed the door behind you. As you walked toward your building, you couldn’t resist turning back for a quick look. Ni-ki was still there, watching you, and when your eyes met again, he flashed you a small, knowing smile before revving the engine.

Without another word, he sped off, the silver car disappearing into the night with a smooth, powerful roar.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The past month had been a whirlwind. Your schedule had spiraled into chaos, with personal commitments swallowing up all your free time. You hadn’t even thought about the races, let alone attended one. But finally, a weekend had opened up, and you felt a rush of excitement at the thought of getting back to the underground scene.

Your friend picked you up, their car bumping with bass as they pulled up to your place. You jumped in, the familiar thrill of anticipation bubbling up inside you. The ride was filled with chatter about the races you’d missed, and as you drove closer to the city, you could feel the energy in the air building.

When you arrived at the race area, it was alive with activity, the night sky illuminated by the glow of headlights and streetlights. Cars were parked everywhere, their owners mingling and showcasing their machines. The sound of engines revving and laughter filled the air, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe.

As you wandered through the crowd, taking in the sights and sounds, you spotted Haruto leaning against a sleek, newly polished car. When he caught your eye, he grinned and pushed off the vehicle to approach you.

"How do you like the new car?" he called out as he got closer, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

You stopped, admiring the vehicle as he gestured toward it. "When did you get this one?" you asked, genuinely curious about the flashy machine that had a glossy finish reflecting the neon lights around it.

"Got it last week," he replied proudly, running a hand over the hood. "Pretty ain’t she?"

"She?" You raised an eyebrow, teasing him. "You gendered it?"

He shrugged, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "What? It just feels right. She’s got curves, you know?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. "Sure, whatever you say, Romeo."

He laughed, shaking his head as you turned to walk away. "You wait until you see her in action! I’ll show you what she’s made of."

You waved him off, your eyes wandering as you continued to explore the scene. The adrenaline was intoxicating, the atmosphere buzzing with energy. You admired the different cars, from flashy sports models to classic muscle machines.

As you continued to roam the crowd, you felt the excitement in the air, but it was abruptly interrupted by a guy who stepped in front of you. He had an easy smile, but there was something off about the way he was looking at you.

"Hey there! What’s your name?" he asked, leaning slightly closer.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge his intentions. "Not interested," you replied coolly, attempting to sidestep him.

He moved to block your path again, undeterred. "Come on, just a name. How about a number then? We could grab a drink later."

You shook your head firmly. "No thanks, I'm not interested."

His expression shifted, irritation creeping into his smile. "You sure? I could show you a good time," he said, stepping a little too close for comfort.

A sense of unease washed over you as his demeanor changed. "Back off," you warned, crossing your arms. But he didn’t take the hint; instead, he leaned in even closer, trying to assert his presence.

Just then, you felt a familiar presence behind you. A voice cut through the tension, deep and commanding. "She said no. You should listen."

Nishimura appeared, sliding a hand around your waist possessively. The gesture was both comforting and electrifying, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. The guy's expression turned from annoyance to fear as he realized who he was dealing with.

The guy hesitated for a moment, looking between the two of you, then backed off, hands raised in defeat. "Whatever, man. She’s not worth it anyway," he muttered before disappearing into the crowd.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning to Ni-ki. "Thanks, but I had it under control," you said, attempting to downplay the situation.

He raised an eyebrow, concern etched across his face. "Didn’t look like it. I hate seeing people act like that."

You opened your mouth to argue, but the intensity of his gaze made you pause. There was something in the way he looked at you that made your heart race.

"I missed you," he said suddenly, his voice dropping to a softer tone. It was as if the words slipped out without him even realizing it.

The admission hung in the air between you, leaving you speechless. You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected vulnerability in his voice. You’d been excited to see him again, but hearing him say that made something inside you flutter.

"You… missed me?" you finally managed to stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly.

He looked a little sheepish, his usual confidence momentarily faltering. "Yeah, I mean—well, it’s been a month since I last saw you. Of course, I did," he replied, his tone shifting back to its usual nonchalance, but you could tell he was trying to cover up the slip.

"Right," you said, your mind racing. There was an undeniable connection sparking between you, and the thought of it made your heart race even faster.

The rest of the night unfolded in a whirlwind of adrenaline and excitement as you found yourself gravitating closer to Ni-ki. His presence felt like a shield, and you relished every moment spent by his side. Every time someone glanced your way with interest or a hint of aggression, you could feel his posture stiffen beside you, a silent warning in his gaze that made you feel protected.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

One evening, as you both leaned against his car, the night air buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming races, he turned to you, his expression serious. “I have something to tell you,” he said, his voice steady yet laced with excitement.

You tilted your head, intrigued. “What is it?”

“I got scouted,” he announced, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. “They want me to race for them in Japan.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a rush of joy surging through you. “That’s amazing, Ni-ki! You deserve it! This is such a huge opportunity!” You couldn’t help but feel proud of him, your excitement bubbling over.

“Thanks! I’m really excited,” he said, his smile widening. Then, his expression shifted, and he looked at you earnestly. “And I want you to come with me.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, feeling a flutter of nerves and anticipation at the same time.

“I want you to be my starter full-time for all my races,” he clarified, his gaze intense as it locked onto yours. “I can’t imagine doing this without you by my side. You’ve been a huge part of my journey so far, and I want you to continue with me.”

Your heart raced at the thought, excitement and disbelief flooding your mind. “You really want me to come with you?”

“Absolutely. You know how much racing means to me. I need someone I trust out there, and that’s you,” he said, sincerity shining in his eyes.

“I’d love to, Ni-ki!”

His face broke into a wide grin, the kind that lit up his entire demeanor. “Really? You’re on board?”

“I’m absolutely on board! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over.

He stepped closer, his arms opening wide, and without hesitation, you jumped into his embrace.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” he said into your hair, his voice slightly muffled but filled with excitement. You felt his joy resonate through you, and it made your heart swell even more.

“I know! It’s unreal!” You pulled back slightly, your hands resting on his shoulders as you looked up into his eyes, both of you sharing that moment of exhilaration.

Ni-ki chuckled softly, still holding you close. “This is going to be amazing.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

He shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “We’re going to crush it together, right? You’ll be my lucky charm out there.”

You laughed, feeling a rush of determination at his words. “Absolutely.”

He grinned, his confidence infectious. “And I’ll make sure we leave them in the dust.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

When you arrived at Ni-ki’s place, you parked your car, and took a moment to admire the neighborhood. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over everything.

Walking toward the open garage door, your gaze drifted to his sleek car sitting in the center, the hood propped open and revealing the beautifully engineered engine underneath. It was like a masterpiece of machinery, glinting under the fluorescent lights.

“Ni-ki?” you called out, your voice echoing slightly in the spacious garage.

Suddenly, Ni-ki rolled out from underneath another car nearby, his face lighting up with a bright smile. “There you are!” he exclaimed, a hint of surprise and delight in his tone. He stood up, wiping his hands with a rag he pulled from his belt, the fabric stained with oil and grease.

You couldn’t help but widen your eyes, taking in the sight of him. He was wearing a pair of dirty overalls over a white tank top, which was now marred with grease and smudges. The way his muscles flexed as he worked on the cars made it hard to focus on anything else. “You work on the cars?” you asked, trying to divert your attention from how good he looked in that moment.

“Yeah, I like to tinker here and there,” he replied casually, picking up a tool from a nearby bench before rolling back under the car. “It’s kind of become a hobby!”

You hummed thoughtfully, walking around the car to get a better view of his progress. The vehicle was clearly totaled, having seen better days after a recent crash. Yet, you could see the way he meticulously worked to fix it up, and admiration swelled within you. “This one looks like it needs a lot of love,” you commented, kneeling down to peek under the car as well.

“It does, but I can fix it,” he said with a mix of confidence and determination. “It just takes time. Plus, I enjoy the challenge.”

“Have you always liked working on cars?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Pretty much. My dad and I used to work on our old cars together when I was a kid,” he said, his voice slightly distant as if reminiscing about those moments. “I guess it stuck with me. It’s therapeutic, you know? Just me and the car, figuring things out.”

You nodded, understanding how those moments could mean so much. “It’s great to have a passion outside of racing. Do you have a dream car you want to work on one day?”

He paused for a moment, considering your question. “Definitely. I’d love to build a classic muscle car from the ground up one day. Something that turns heads and leaves a mark on the road.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, feeling a surge of inspiration at the thought of him chasing another dream. “I’d love to see that happen.”

Ni-ki rolled out from under the car again, this time standing up to face you fully. “You’ll be there to cheer me on, right?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.

“Always,” you promised, feeling a warmth spread through you.

He grinned and stepped closer, wiping his hands on his overalls again, though it only spread the grease around more. “Well, since you’re here, you can help me out! I need a second pair of hands to hold the engine cover while I fix this part.”

“Sure! What do I need to do?” you said eagerly.

“Just hold it steady while I tighten these bolts,” he instructed, moving back under the car again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The days leading up to the race in Japan had been a whirlwind of excitement and adventure. Ni-ki showed you the sights of Tokyo, from the bustling streets of Shibuya to the tranquil gardens of the Imperial Palace.

As the day of the race approached, however, you noticed a shift in Ni-ki’s demeanor. He became quieter, more introspective, often staring off into space as if lost in his thoughts. You could see the weight of expectations resting heavily on his shoulders.

On the morning of the race, you found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his expression a mix of determination and anxiety. “Ni-ki,” you said softly, approaching him. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I’m just nervous, you know? This is a big deal, and I really want to perform well.”

You sat beside him, placing a reassuring hand on his back. “You’ve worked so hard for this, and you’re more than ready. Just remember why you started racing in the first place.”

He nodded, but his gaze remained downcast. You took a deep breath, wanting to instill confidence in him. “You’re going to crush it out there, I know you will. Just focus on driving and trust yourself.”

As you spoke, you could see his tension slowly ease, the fire igniting in his eyes once more. “Thanks for always being here for me,” he said quietly.

Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. “Win for me, okay?” you said with a warm smile, and watched as his gaze hardened with resolve.

“I will,” he promised, the determination in his voice returning. You could see that your words had reignited the spark within him.

As night fell, you found yourselves in the car, cruising through the darkened streets of Tokyo. The city was alive with neon lights reflecting off the sleek surfaces of buildings, casting a colorful glow that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the hum of excitement in the air.

Ni-ki’s hands gripped the steering wheel with a newfound confidence, and as he navigated the winding roads, you could feel the adrenaline building between you. “Are you ready?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“I was born ready!” you replied, trying to keep the mood light, but the thrill of the moment was palpable.

He chuckled, a mischievous grin breaking through his earlier nerves. “That’s what I like to hear.”

As he drove, the anticipation grew heavier. You could almost taste the excitement as you approached the race venue, the sounds of revving engines and cheering crowds growing louder. You felt a surge of pride knowing you’d be right by his side, supporting him through every twist and turn of the race.

“Just remember,” you said, leaning closer as he focused on the road, “no matter what happens out there, you’ve got this."

His expression softened, and he turned to meet your gaze. “Thanks for believing in me. It means everything.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Always, Ni-ki."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You strolled around the venue, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. The high-end cars gleamed under the bright lights, each one more stunning than the last. You took your time admiring the sleek designs and intricate details.

Trying to immerse yourself in the culture, you remembered some of the Japanese phrases Ni-ki had taught you during your flight. You approached a group of racers and smiled, offering compliments. While some responded with smiles and nods, others seemed confused, and you quickly realized that your limited vocabulary wasn’t enough to keep the conversations going.

As you wandered, you eventually found yourself standing alone, lost in thought about the upcoming race, when a tall guy approached you with a smirk. He started speaking rapidly in Japanese, gesturing animatedly, but you could only catch bits and pieces.

“Sorry” you said, apologizing. “I don’t understand," you added, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone.

Instead, his expression darkened, and he leaned closer, his voice becoming more aggressive as he pressed you with questions you couldn’t comprehend. When he reached out and grabbed your wrist, panic surged through you, and you instinctively pulled away. However, his grip was too tight, and the pressure made you wince.

Just then, you heard a familiar voice cut through the commotion. “Hey! Get away from her!” Ni-ki stormed in, eyes blazing with anger as he pulled you behind him, creating a protective barrier.

The guy hesitated, then turned to Ni-ki, their eyes locking as they began to argue back and forth in rapid Japanese. You couldn’t follow their exchange, but the intensity of the situation was palpable. You rubbed your wrist, still feeling the remnants of the man’s grip as you looked from Ni-ki to the guy, who had turned an alarming shade of red, clearly taken aback by Ni-ki`s arrival.

Finally, Ni-ki turned away from the confrontation and guided you toward his car, his grip firm but gentle on your shoulder. “Come on,” he said, urgency in his tone.

“What? What happened?” you asked, bewildered, still trying to process everything.

“I’m racing,” he replied shortly, his eyes focused ahead as he led you toward his Mitsubishi.

“Against who?” you asked, glancing back at the guy, who was now standing there with a scowl, his earlier bravado deflated.

“Against the creep,” Ni-ki answered, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Your heart raced at the thought. “Wait, Ni-ki, you don’t have to do this! It’s not worth it.”

He shot you a determined look, his jaw set. “I know. But he can’t just treat you like that. This isn’t just about racing; it’s about respect.”

You swallowed hard, realizing how serious he was. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, you took a moment to collect yourself, grateful for his protective instincts. “Are you sure you’re okay to race right now?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

He turned to you, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’m fine. I just need to focus. You’ll be right here, right?”

“Of course,” you replied, forcing a smile to reassure him, even though you were still rattled by the encounter.

You took a deep breath, standing between Ni-ki's sleek Mitsubishi and the other guy's car—a flashy, souped-up Honda that glinted under the neon lights. Your heart raced, a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through you. You could feel the energy in the air, thick with anticipation as both drivers revved their engines, the deep growl echoing around you.

"Are you guys ready?" you called out, trying to maintain your composure as you pointed toward both cars. Ni-ki shot you a confident nod, his eyes locked on the road ahead. The other driver, still wearing a cocky grin, gave you a thumbs-up.

As the cars revved louder, you turned your gaze to a guy standing nearby, holding a walkie-talkie. He was scanning the area, and when he got the go-ahead that the police were nowhere in sight, he shot you a thumbs-up.

Your pulse quickened at the sight, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. You lifted the flag high, your heart pounding in your chest, and with a swift motion, you waved it down. "Go!" you shouted, your voice carrying over the roar of the engines.

Both cars shot off the line, tires screeching as they sped into the dark streets of Tokyo. You watched as they darted away, the headlights illuminating the path ahead like shooting stars against the night sky. The ground trembled beneath your feet from the sheer power of the vehicles, and you could almost feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as the excitement enveloped you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Ni-ki gripped the steering wheel tightly, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he and the other driver raced side by side through the neon-lit streets of Tokyo. He could feel the intensity radiating from the other car, a flashy Honda that kept trying to tip him off balance.

“Come on, you think you can take me out?” he muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on the road ahead. The guy was aggressive, swerving dangerously close and attempting to nudge him off course. Ni-ki remained focused, expertly maneuvering around the obstacles in his path.

He drifted into a turn, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he counter-steered and weaved through the traffic. Cars honked and swerved, their drivers caught off guard by the reckless speed of the two racers. The other driver tried to play dirty, attempting to crash into Ni-ki's rear, but Ni-ki was prepared for it. He kept his cool, steering away just in time and cutting in front of the guy as they barreled through a narrow alleyway.

“Not today,” he said through gritted teeth, determination fueling every decision he made.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ni-ki noticed a police car trailing behind them, its sirens blaring loudly. His heart dropped as he glanced in the rearview mirror, the flashing lights reflecting the urgency of the situation. “No, no, no,” he repeated, frustration rising within him. He couldn’t let himself get caught—not after everything they had worked for.

The other driver seemed to notice the approaching officer as well, and in a desperate attempt to throw Ni-ki off his game, he swerved dangerously close, trying to shove Niki into the path of the police car. Ni-ki's heart raced as he saw the cop trying to close the gap, the pressure mounting.

With quick reflexes, Ni-ki shifted gears and accelerated, pushing his car to its limits as he turned sharply to avoid a collision. He felt the weight of the Honda trying to force him into a corner, but he countered with another drift, keeping his grip tight on the wheel. The other driver, frustrated and reckless, made a final lunge for Ni-ki's car, but in the process, he miscalculated.

Ni-ki watched as the guy’s car collided with the police vehicle, the impact sending both cars spinning. Metal crunched, and he could hear the screeching of tires against pavement. Ni-ki couldn’t help but glance back, disbelief washing over him as he saw the police car crash into a row of parked cars, sending them crashing into one another like dominoes.

“Holy—” he breathed, shaking his head. The guy had gone too far. He took a moment to process the chaos, his heart still racing, but he knew he couldn’t dwell on it. The adrenaline and excitement of the race was intoxicating, and he had to keep his head in the game.

Ni-ki refocused on the road ahead, determination burning in his chest. He could see the finish line in the distance, the crowd gathering, their cheers a distant roar that urged him forward. With one final surge of speed, he pressed down on the accelerator, feeling the power of the car respond instantly. He was going to win this race—not just for himself, but for you, the one waiting at the finish line.

As he crossed the line, the cheers of the crowd erupted around him, the thrill of victory washing over him like a wave. But even in that moment, he knew he had to keep his cool and stay grounded. After all, he was racing not just against the clock, but against chaos itself.

As Ni-ki crossed the finish line, the exhilaration of victory pulsed through him. He could hardly contain his excitement as he slammed the brakes, his Mitsubishi screeching to a halt. The roar of the crowd enveloped him, a wave of adrenaline and triumph crashing over him like a tidal wave. He hopped out of the car, his heart racing not just from the race but from the sight of you waiting at the finish line, a wide smile on your face.

“Did you see that?” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with joy as he bounded over to you. He pulled you into a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet for a moment. The thrill of the win felt amplified with you by his side, and he couldn't help but bask in the warmth of your presence.

“I did! You were amazing!” you replied, laughter bubbling from your lips as he set you down.

“Just doing what I do best,” he said with a playful smirk, rubbing the back of his neck in a show of modesty. But the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. He took a moment to soak it all in, the cheers of the crowd ringing in his ears, but it was your smile that made his heart swell with happiness.

As the crowd surged around him, eager to congratulate the victor, Ni-ki turned back to you, his expression softening. “You know, I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said, sincerity lacing his words. “You were my good luck charm.”

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, and you felt a surge of pride wash over you. “I’ll be your good luck charm any day,” you teased, poking him playfully in the side.

The celebration continued around you, people shouting his name and clapping him on the back. Ni-ki basked in the glory, but even as the crowd cheered and celebrated, his eyes kept darting back to you, finding comfort in your presence.

From then, every race he entered seemed to follow the same pattern. Each time, he emerged victorious, his confidence soaring with each win.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Laying on the hood of Ni-ki's car, the warmth of the metal beneath you was comforting as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city. The vibrant hues of orange and pink painted the sky, creating a perfect backdrop for the moment you both shared. You leaned into Ni-ki, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your side, and you couldn't help but smile as you glanced up at him.

Ni-ki's gaze was fixed on you, his eyes shimmering with a mix of happiness and something deeper—something that made your heart flutter.

As you exchanged shy glances, the atmosphere shifted. The distance between you disappeared, and suddenly, you found yourselves inching closer together. Your heart raced, a mix of anticipation and excitement coursing through you as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and tender.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

In that moment, everything felt perfect. You both leaned in, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss. It started soft and sweet, but as Ni-ki pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, it became something more. His hands slid around your waist, anchoring you to him as you melted against him, losing yourself in the warmth of his embrace.

You could feel his heart racing against your chest, mirroring the excitement and passion that filled the air around you.

As the kiss grew more passionate, you felt Ni-ki’s fingers thread through your hair, pulling you even closer. You sighed against him, savoring the moment, the thrill of it all—this incredible connection that had blossomed between you.

Finally, you pulled away, both of you breathless and smiling like fools, your foreheads resting against each other.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

“Oh, really?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. “You seemed pretty good at racing; I thought you’d be good at kissing too.”

Ni-ki chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m still figuring out this whole romance thing. But with you? It just feels right.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but lean in for another quick kiss. The sun had fully set now, leaving a blanket of stars shimmering overhead, but the warmth of the moment lingered.

#enhypen fic #enhypen #nishimura riki #niki x reader #niki imagines #riki nishimura x reader #enhypen riki #riki x reader #fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen niki #fanfic #niki fluff #ni ki x reader #ni ki #ni ki enhypen

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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago

Text

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Steve's knee bounces up and down as he stares at Eddie's near-lifeless form. He doesn't know how long he's been here, memories flashing through his head that he's tried to will away. But it's hard when he knows that this is all his fault.

He's the reason Eddie's in this hospital bed.

-:-:-:-

Steve bounced his leg to the beat that pierced through the trailer. He smiled at Eddie who laughed manically over the crazy-sounding song.

Eddie turned the knob down slightly and yelled over the music, "You don't have to pretend to like this!"

Steve just shook his head. "Turn it up louder. I like the way it clears my thoughts."

Eddie cranked the knob even higher and jumped on his mattress, jostling Steve who just laughed in response and stood up to join Eddie in some crazy dance.

For once, Steve felt free. He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to be here. But he came up with excuses as he wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders, slotting them closer together.

That's why he was there, right? He needed to play the game Eddie didn't know about.

-:-:-:-

"Steve."

He's shaken out of his thoughts by Robin's hand on his shoulder. He glances at her momentarily before looking back at Eddie. He can't let him out of his sight.

"Steve, you need to eat. Even his uncle has taken a break from watching over him."

Steve knows that Robin's confused, he can hear it in her voice. Maybe it's time he finally told her but first, "Please, let me wait until someone else can watch over him."

"Dustin's in the hall. The hospital is still standing by their two visitors at a time policy, but he can watch over him while you eat."

Steve's eyes don't leave Eddie's chest which slowly moves up and down. "Why can't we eat in the room?"

Robin moves to kneel down in front of him. "Steve, you have to leave this room, okay? You need to shower and rest and eat and breathe fresh air. Please, we're all so worried about you. Dustin's already partially lost Eddie, we can't lose you, too."

Steve pries his eyes away to look at Robin. He nods. He can feel a small ache in the pit of his stomach and a heavy pull on his eyelids. "I need to tell you something."

Robin grabs his hands nodding. He's not sure when she started crying, but a slow tear rolls down her face following a trail of already smeared mascara. Steve quietly says, "This is all my fault. I'm the reason he's here." He feels his bottom lip quiver before he fully breaks, his loud sobs joining in with the steady beeping of the monitor.

Robin stands and pulls him out of the chair, letting him bury his head into her shoulder. "It's not your fault the bats got him, Steve. It's not your fault."

"Y-You don't understand," Steve sobs out as Robin pulls him in tighter.

-:-:-:-

Steve's lip quivered as he gripped onto Eddie's shoulders tightly. "I'm so sorry."

Eddie shook his head as he stared at him blinking, still slightly panting. "I don't understand."

Of course he didn't understand. He didn't know the terrible thing he was doing. Steve knew this was it. He needed to leave.

Forever.

-:-:-:-

The hospital halls are bright, and the sun is even brighter. Everything is brighter than Steve remembers. It doesn't feel right.

Robin manages to get him to his home, shoving him into the bathroom with a towel and a stack of clothes. After he gets out, she hands him fresh bandages and his prescribed ointment for the damn bat wounds.

She manages to convince him to eat a few bites of a grilled cheese she made along with some tomato soup she found in his pantry. Steve eats on autopilot while Robin sits next to him on his couch, eating in silence.

When Steve finishes half his sandwich, he puts his tray down on his coffee table and turns to Robin. "Do you promise not to hate me after I tell you this?

Robin chews as a line forms between her eyebrows. She swallows but pauses for a few seconds. "I'm your best friend. I'm going to love you no matter what."

"You don't understand," Steve says shaking his head, "There's a reason I never told you this before."

"Told me what?" Robin prompts.

Steve swallows. "At the beginning of junior year, Tommy and Carol had heard some rumor that senior Eddie Munson was gay. And for some reason, I couldn't let the idea go. So, I suggested that we should play a prank on him... And that I should..." He sighs and puts his head in his hands.

Robin's hand trails over his back.

Steve continues in a rush, "I told them I should pretend to be into him."

Robin's hand freezes on his back, and Steve hears her slightly gasp.

Steve looks up at her. "That isn't even the worst part."

-:-:-:-

Steve smirked when he saw Eddie in the back of his English class scribbling something in his notebook. He had crafted a plan at lunch the day before with Tommy and Carol. It would be easy.

Steve made his way to the back of the classroom and sat next to Eddie, making a show of digging through his backpack and not being able to find something. He looked up at Eddie and smiled politely. "You wouldn't happen to have a pencil would you?"

Eddie stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and shock at the concept of Steve Harrington acknowledging him. He glanced down at his notebook and stared at it as if he was apologizing to it. Then, Eddie handed him the pencil out of his hand.

Steve winked as he said, "Thanks."

The other boy didn't say anything, he just nodded.

Steve noticed that he didn't reach for his bag for another pencil as more people filtered into the room. Steve leaned across the way and quietly asked, "Don't you have another one?"

Eddie shook his head. "I don't really take notes. Just sketch or plan stuff."

"He speaks," Steve said with a big smile. "What are those sketches?"

Eddie shifted in his seat and looked Steve up and down before turning his sketches his way. "Creatures and shit from Dungeons and Dragons."

Honestly, they looked really cool. Steve didn't know that people could actually draw like that. His friends were always more athletic than artistic. "That's really cool," Steve said genuinely.

"Thanks," Eddie breathed out, turning the book back toward himself as if he were trying to hide it.

Steve stared at him for a few seconds before he handed his pencil back.

"Are you sure you don't need it?" Eddie asked, hesitating to take it back.

Steve nodded, digging into the pouch where he kept several pencils. "I'm sure," he said with another big smile before leaning across the aisle again. "You should show me more of your drawings sometime. And hey, it's Eddie, right?"

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed as he nodded. "Yeah."

Steve stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "Steve."

"I know," Eddie replied but he shook his hand nonetheless.

Steve ignored the way the touch made him feel like he suddenly couldn't breathe. Instead, he focused on the way he had already made progress in his game.

-:-:-:-

"Okay, so you flirted with him a little and led him on a bit."

"No," Steve insists, "It was more than just the classroom interactions. I went full-on crazy. I would watch him at lunch and make sure he knew that I was watching. I even changed my route to class to make sure I would bump into him in the hallway. Hell, I went as far as to try to change my locker so it was closer to his." In hindsight, he should've known that was going too far. But in the moment, it felt like he needed to get as close as possible to Eddie Munson.

Robin shifts to tuck her knees to her chest. She looks at him carefully as she asks, "Did you... enjoy seeing him?"

Steve shrugs, not sure what she's getting at.

Robin only frowns slightly before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "I mean, did you have a crush on him."

"No," Steve says immediately, feeling the same guard come up as it always does when he asks himself the question. Or when someone else has asked him that question...

-:-:-:-

"I swear you like the queer or something," Tommy sneered at the lunch table as Carol laughed loudly.

Steve pulled his eyes away from Eddie and firmly stated, "It's not like that."

"Really? Because you're looking at him like you want to sample whatever the freak will give you."

Steve's hands flexed under the table. He didn't know why he was so angry at the accusation. "It's not like that," Steve repeated lowly.

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Carol asked with a twisted grin.

He knew they were trying to get under his skin about it, and as much as he didn't want to let them know they got to him, he couldn't stand what they were implying. "Fuck you," he said and stormed out of the cafeteria. He could hear Tommy’s and Carol's grating laughter as he left, furthering his damn anger.

He stormed into the bathroom and checked that all the stalls were clear before he sat on the nasty floor and put his head in his hands.

He didn't know why the question got to him so much because it really wasn’t like that. He didn't like Munson. The whole point of getting closer to him was to trick Munson into liking him.

He started to think that maybe that wasn't so funny anymore.

The door to the bathroom opened and shut quickly, a lock twisted and closed Steve in with whoever came in.

He slowly looked up, embarrassed by being caught in this state, but he became even more so when he saw it was Eddie who had followed him.

"You okay?" Eddie's asked gently, keeping his distance.

Steve sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "My friends are assholes."

Eddie snorted in response which caught Steve off-guard. "Sorry," Eddie said with a smile, "It's just that everyone knows that. Or maybe I just especially know that."

"Then why are you here?" Steve asked, but the question sounded a little too harsh even to him.

Eddie shrugged then walked over to Steve and slid down the bathroom wall to join him on the floor. "You've been uncharacteristically kind to me these past few weeks. I couldn't be sure that you weren't in a hostage situation," he joked.

Steve was surprised to find that the joke put him at ease and even made him smile. He smiled further when he saw the way Eddie relished the fact that he cheered him up.

"Hey," Eddie said as he scooted closer to him. "I've got this secret lunch spot where I usually deal, but it's also great if you need a space away from people. I can show it to you tomorrow."

Steve's heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the suggestion, filled with nerves and excitement at the thought of spending actual alone time with Eddie. "I'd really like that."

-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and looks at Robin who he knows would love and support him no matter what feelings he confesses. He breathes out, "Maybe I did like him like that."

Robin gives him a sad smile and rests her hand on his.

"He and I would eat lunch together every Tuesday and Thursday in this little spot in the woods that had a picnic bench and everything. And I started looking forward to those days and when I would pass him in the hall and our class together. God, I just wanted to be around him all the time. He was like my best friend at the time."

"So, what happened?"

Steve pinches his lips together and shakes his head. "I kept leading him on. I would report things to Tommy and Carol and they would laugh at him and call him so many damn names. God, then it spread to the whole basketball team because Tommy can't shut his damn mouth. And they'd do shit like high-five me in the hall. They told me I was doing God's work by making sure Eddie's attention was only on me."

"God, they're such assholes."

Steve nods in agreement and adds, "So am I."

"You've changed, Steve."

Steve shakes his head. "I don't know, Robin."

-:-:-:-

Steve felt high out of his mind lying in Eddie's bed with their fingers intertwined. Only when he was high, he felt like he could touch him like this. He didn't want it to go any further. More like, he was scared of it going any further because he wouldn't know what that meant.

Eddie's head turned to him - his lips only a short distance away from Steve's. He was starting to notice these things more and more around the boy.

"You're different," Eddie commented.

Steve laughed and rolled on his side. "How?"

"Different from anyone I've ever met. Nothing like your asshole friends."

Steve's smile fell from his face at the comment. He was exactly like them; Eddie just didn't know it.

"Why me?" Eddie asked.

Steve glanced up at him. "What do you mean?"

Eddie rolled on his side, shifting even closer to Steve. "Why did you choose to be nice to me? It felt so damn random especially after you practically never looked at me before."

Steve's mouth opened and closed, unsure how to answer. Instead, he opted out and replied, "I don't know."

"Well, I'm glad you noticed me. I don't know what I would do without you at this point."

"Me neither," Steve replied honestly.

-:-:-:-

"I never told him," Steve says, feeling his bottom lip quiver. "God, I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't."

Robin nods. “I don’t blame you, that’s a hard thing to explain to someone.” When Steve doesn’t reply, she presses on, "So, what else happened?"

Steve runs both hands over his face and leans back against the couch, unable to look at Robin anymore. "It was a few weeks before Halloween, so I had been leading him on for two months at that point. We were hanging out almost every day. I almost spent the night sometimes because I was over so late just talking to him. But I never let myself. I knew if I stayed once, I would stay every night if I could. "

"It sounds like you were just being friendly to him. I don't know how he could have misinterpreted it," Robin reasons.

Steve shakes his head. "I wasn't just friendly. I would blatantly flirt sometimes. Shit, I used to leave notes in his locker sometimes and whenever we were alone, I would usually initiate some contact like holding his hand. But when it was late, and I could excuse the touchiness as a form of sleep deprivation, I would lay in bed with him, and we would just stare at each other. Sometimes, I let my hands wander in his hair, over his face, down his arms basically anywhere he'd let me."

Robin lets a deep breath out and pauses before asking, "Did you ever do more than that?"

Steve shakes his head but pinches his nose sharply. He has to own up to it. "Fuck," he sighs burying his head in his hands. "Yes, we did more than that but only one time."

-:-:-:-

Steve didn't remember why he was laughing; Eddie just kind of pulled it out of him at times. Besides, it was also late, and they both tended to get a bit giggly during the early AMs.

Eddie stopped laughing suddenly, so Steve turned to him and asked, "What?"

Eddie just shook his head in response and turned to stare at the ceiling looking suddenly stoic.

Steve rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his arm to stare down at Eddie. "Come on, tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

Eddie looked him directly in the eye and said, "That."

Steve shook his head and tried not to stare at Eddie's lips.

"You," Eddie tried again. "Do you mean what you say?"

Steve's heart thudded in his chest. "I don't know what you mean," he lied.

Eddie's hand shook as it made its way up to cup his cheek. "Yes, you do. Just tell me if I'm reading this wrong."

He was reading it absolutely wrong, but fuck, he was reading him absolutely right. So, Steve didn't think. He just leaned down and gently kissed Eddie before he pulled back with a shaky breath to say, "You're not reading this wrong."

Eddie pulled him in again, kissing him. Steve groaned into the kiss, feeling lightning practically spread through his body at the sensation. God, it felt so damn right.

Steve quickly moved until his body was on top of Eddie's pressing into him at all the right places as they both deepened the kiss. Steve knew he wasn't supposed to be enjoying it, but he pushed the thought and guilt away.

-:-:-:-

Steve wipes the tear away from his cheek and takes a deep breath. "I wasn't thinking. And I made it so much worse."

"Shit," Robin whispers, hugging her knees tightly.

"After, I freaked the fuck out. I had this whole breakdown, and Eddie was trying so hard to understand. He thought I was just having this sexuality crisis, which I admittedly was, but I was mainly concerned about if Eddie ever found out if it was all a damn joke."

"It wasn't a joke to either of you, Steve. You would've never gone that far if it was," Robin insists, hand landing gently on Steve's shoulder.

Steve flinches away from her. "But it was all rooted in a joke."

"Fuck," Robin says with wide eyes, "Steve, please tell me you didn't tell Tommy or anyone."

In his heart, he knows that's the only good decision he made. "I didn't."

Robin breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank god."

"But what I did was maybe worse in hindsight."

"How?" Robin asks, sounding horrified.

-:-:-:-

Steve walked through the halls on autopilot. He couldn't get any sleep the night before. It felt damn near impossible after his night with Eddie.

"Steve buddy!" Tommy said loudly, clapping a rough hand on his back. "How's the freak treating you?"

Steve shook his head and said, "It's over."

Tommy walked in front of him and stopped him. "Woah there. You look like you've seen a damn ghost or something. What did the freak do to you? Did he try to kiss you or some shit?" Tommy asked with a sick smile on his face.

"No," Steve stated and looked around the halls before he leaned in and said, "But I found out he's a Satanist. Like he does full-on rituals and shit."

"No fucking way!" Tommy yelled excitedly, ready to spread the rumor like wildfire.

"Yeah," Steve said. "I don't think he's queer though."

"I'm surprised," Tommy laughed. "He looks at you like you're his bitch sometimes."

"Just into Satanic shit," Steve insisted.

Tommy got a wild look in his eye. "Maybe we should include that in the basketball hazing this year. First student to witness one of his rituals gets a damn prize."

"Sure," Steve shrugged it off. "Bet it would scare that new guy Jason shitless."

-:-:-:-

"Oh fuck," Robin says, putting her hands over her mouth in shock.

"I practically started the whole fucking manhunt with that damn rumor. I just thought it wouldn't be as bad as people finding out he was gay. And I somehow thought it would convince people that nothing happened between me and him," Steve confesses.

"Okay," Robin says, staring off into space before shifting on the couch toward Steve. "Okay, you didn't start the manhunt. And Tommy's the one who spread the rumor, and Jason is the one who took it too far."

"But Eddie would've graduated senior year if it wasn't for me."

Robin's brows furrow as she shakes her head. "Wait what? How's that related?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "I ended things the day the rumor spread. But I was such a fucking asshole about it, Robin. God, you're going to hate me."

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because it was a Tuesday. And instead of joining Eddie outside, I stayed with Tommy and Carol, looking around to find some girl to use to get over Eddie. Then, I spotted a girl with curly hair and big eyes that reminded me of him..."

"Nancy," Robin fills in for him.

Steve nods. "She was my fucking rebound."

-:-:-:-

Steve didn't eat lunch that day. He wasn't hungry. He felt fucking sick to his stomach as he looked around the cafeteria, wondering if Eddie would walk in at any moment looking for him.

His eyes caught on curly hair, but realized it was too light to belong to Eddie. He leaned to the side and caught eyes with Nancy Wheeler. He shot her a wink before going back to pushing his food around his tray. It didn't make him feel better.

In his last class with Eddie, he sat at the very front of the room, hating the view from there and the way people kept staring at his obvious seat change. He ducked his head when Eddie walked in late and took his seat in the back.

He didn't take a single note that day. He could feel Eddie's eyes practically burn holes in the back of his head.

The bell was the only thing that gave Steve relief that day, and he basically sprinted his way out of the building to his car. But he cursed as he dug around his backpack unable to find his damn keys.

"Dropped these," Eddie's voice said behind him.

Steve turned to him slowly and didn't make eye contact as he reached for the keys.

Eddie snatched them back. "Why are you being weird? Is this because of what happened last night?"

"Nothing happened last night," Steve insisted, lowering his voice so no one could hear him.

Eddie's pained expression broke Steve's heart immediately. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," Steve repeated. "And nothing will ever happen again, got it?"

"Steve-"

"I'm doing this for you," Steve lied.

Eddie saw right through him as he always did. "No, you're fucking not."

"Eddie-"

"Is this freak bothering you, Steve?" Tommy said, suddenly rushing to his side.

"No, I was just leaving," Eddie said, turning to stalk away.

Tommy snorted at the sight and leaned into Steve's side to ask, "You're sure he's not gay?"

"Shut up, Tommy," Steve said, pinching his nose as he got into his car.

-:-:-:-

"He started skipping classes after that. Shit, I practically never saw him in our English class. And he started taking a different route in the halls. God, I missed him so fucking bad." Steve looks down at his hands, flexing in anger at his past mistakes. "He skipped so often that they made him repeat senior year. The next year, we saw each other once when I was with Nancy, and after that it was like I never saw him again. Once again, he skipped and failed. If he would've graduated when he was supposed to, he wouldn't be in this damn mess. Fuck, he would still be alive."

"He's still alive, Steve."

Steve snaps, "Is he really? The doctor told us that he may never wake up, Robin. What if he never wakes up? What if I can never tell him this?" A small part of Steve wonders what would happen if he did wake up. Would he actually tell him?

Steve shakes his head. He doesn't know, but he knows he can't lose him again. It hurt so damn much the first time; he couldn't do it again. "You know how I always say I have no idea what I want?"

Robin nods.

"I've lied. I know exactly what I want, and he's laying in that damn hospital bed. I thought maybe I could find someone like him, but I can't Robin. No matter how many dates I go on, no one is like Eddie."

Robin moves closer to him and wraps her arms around him.

Steve feels more tears trail down his face as he leans into Robin. "You know, in the upside down, he gave me this bullshit speech about how I've changed, and I'm actually a good dude. Then, he told me something about how I should get Nancy back and it was like a damn dagger in my heart. He told me that she dove right into that water and he wouldn't have done the same in normal circumstances. As if he was trying to tell me that I was right to choose Nancy over him. It's such bullshit."

Robin doesn't say anything, just pulls him in tighter.

"He has to wake up, Robin. He has to," Steve wipes his eyes and stands up. "But we have to get back to that hospital, okay? I'll tell you eventually why I can't leave his side, but I just can't today."

Robin nods and stands up. "Let's go then."

-:-:-:-

"If you died today, would you have regrets?"

Steve laughed. "That's such a random question."

Eddie smiled up at him. "Come on, answer the question."

Steve knew that he would have too many regrets to ever be able to list. But he asked, "Would I die right here, right now?"

Eddie shrugged. "Sure."

"If I died with you at my side, then I think I would have no regrets. What about you?"

Eddie smiled up at him sincerely, considering the question for a few moments. "As long as you were by my side, I would be okay."

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #robin buckley

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sherewrytes · 2 months ago

Text

↳ 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

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Chapter 3: Life of the party

As you, Mei Mei, and Shoko left the roar of the engines and the bright lights of the street race behind, the excitement in the car was palpable. GloRilla's "FNF" pumped through the speakers, a fitting soundtrack to the reckless freedom you all felt. Shoko was in the passenger seat, head bobbing to the beat, while Mei Mei had one hand on the wheel, the other tapping the dashboard in time with the music. Both of them belted out the lyrics, their voices filling the car with a carefree energy that made you laugh despite yourself.

Your mind, though, was already racing ahead, thinking about the party at Choso's place later. The race was fun, but the afterparty was where things really heated up.

“We’re about to shut it down tonight, you know that, right?” Mei Mei said over the music, giving you a sly grin through the rearview mirror.

You smirked back but didn’t respond right away, your eyes flicking down to your phone, scrolling through messages and outfit ideas. You loved a good party as much as anyone, but finding something to wear was always a hassle. As you pulled up to your apartment building, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were going to need something bold tonight. Something different.

“Alright, girls, let’s get ready to kill it,” Shoko said as she hopped out of the car, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “We’ve got about an hour.”

Once inside, the three of you burst through the door and immediately scattered. Shoko and Mei Mei made a beeline for the couch, kicking off their shoes as they cranked the music louder, while you headed straight for your closet, flipping through hangers with a sense of urgency. Every piece of clothing you touched just felt…wrong. Too plain. Not enough. This party's going to be packed, and you needed to stand out. But nothing in your closet was screaming "baddie" right now.

Shoko and Mei Mei were still dancing around, singing along to the playlist as they waited for you to decide.

“Y/N, you’re overthinking it!” Shoko called from the living room. “Just throw on something and let’s go!”

“I don’t want to just throw on anything,” you muttered, more to yourself than to her, still rifling through the hangers.

Suddenly, Mei Mei appeared at your side, eyes narrowing as she assessed your options. Before you could say anything, she shoved you lightly out of the way and pushed aside a few items with practiced ease. Then, with a satisfied smirk, she pulled out a hot pink corset top you hadn’t even considered and held it up to you.

“This. And…” she continued, pulling out a pair of light denim shorts, “…this.”

You stared at the outfit, eyebrows raised. “Mei Mei, you can’t be serious. A corset and shorts? Isn’t that a bit…much?”

She shot you a look that could have cut through glass, her expression dripping with playful exasperation. “In what world is this too much? Certainly not ours.” She tossed the corset at you and pointed towards the mirror. “Trust me. You’ll thank me later.”

You hesitated, but only for a second. She did have a point. The outfit was bold, and the bright pink against the denim would definitely turn heads. Maybe that’s exactly what you needed tonight. With a reluctant grin, you nodded and slipped into the corset, cinching it tight, feeling the fabric hug your curves in all the right places. The denim shorts followed, showing off just enough to be fun but not too revealing. You slipped on the heeled sandals Mei Mei had pulled out earlier and took a step back to admire the final look in the mirror.

Shoko strolled in just then, her sharp gaze scanning your reflection. “Damn, girl, you look hot.”

A hint of a smile tugged at your lips. “You really think so?”

Mei Mei gave a dramatic huff, standing behind you with her hands on her hips. “Of course. I don’t miss.”

With your outfit settled, you turned to the mirror again, touching up your makeup. You brushed on a bit more highlighter, adding a glow to your cheekbones, and then carefully adjusted your lashes to make them pop. A final swipe of gloss over your lips sealed the deal.

“All done,” you announced, stepping back from the mirror to get a full look.

Mei Mei grabbed her purse, nodding in approval. “See? I told you, you’re going to steal the show tonight.”

Shoko grabbed her phone, sending a quick text before looking up with a smirk. “Toji’s gonna lose it when you roll in like this. Let’s go.”

The three of you gathered your things, the energy in the apartment buzzing with anticipation. As you stepped out the door, the cool night air hit your skin, a reminder of the party ahead. You could already hear the bass thumping in your mind, feel the crowd’s pulse, and see the heads turning your way when you made your entrance.

With the outfit decision behind you, the three of you made your way out to Shoko's car. You decided to roll up a quick blunt to smoke on the way to the party

Mei Mei, with her usual confidence, winked at you as she slid into the front passenger seat, claiming it before anyone else had the chance. "It’s going to be a scene, trust me."

You hopped into the back, letting the leather seat mold beneath you as Shoko revved the engine. "Streets" by Doja Cat started playing through the speakers, low at first, the sultry rhythm building. Mei Mei, on aux duty, turned it up with a knowing grin. "This? This is the song."

“Of course you’d pick this one,” you teased, pulling out a blunt from your bag. With a lighter flick, the small flame sparked in the dim interior, and the smell of burning paper filled the car. You took the first drag, the smoke swirling smoothly in your lungs before you exhaled, letting it dance in the air. Rolling down your window slightly, you handed the blunt over to Mei Mei.

“Gotta set the mood, right?” you said, already feeling the edge of excitement start to blur into the warmth from the smoke.

Mei Mei took the blunt from your fingers with a smirk. "You know how to kick things off," she said, taking a slow, deliberate inhale before handing it over to Shoko.

“Hell yeah,” Shoko murmured, briefly taking her eyes off the road to glance at the blunt. She grinned and took a drag, letting the smoke fill her chest before smoothly exhaling through the slightly cracked window. "Y’all are trouble, I swear."

“Trouble’s exactly what we need tonight,” you said, leaning back into your seat as Doja’s voice washed over you. The song’s slow, hypnotic beat seemed to pulse with the mood, blending perfectly with the warmth of the smoke and the feeling of freedom rolling through the open windows.

Mei Mei tossed a playful glance over her shoulder. "Don’t even try to play it safe tonight. We’re making this party unforgettable." She passed the blunt back to you, her eyes glittering with mischief. "And that outfit? Trust me, heads are gonna turn."

You laughed, taking another hit. The familiar burn was comfortable now, sending a wave of calm through you. "Okay, okay, you win. It’s a party, after all."

Shoko adjusted her grip on the steering wheel, leaning forward just a bit, the city lights bouncing off her sharp features. "Y’all better not let me down tonight. I want chaos. Controlled chaos, though," she added with a smirk, letting out a breath of smoke that danced out of her window into the night air.

You reached over, handing the blunt back to her while continuing to sing along with Doja, your voice blending into the lyrics, “…And now I'm stuck in the middle and baby had to pull me out, oh…”

Mei Mei stretched her arms above her head, already vibing to the music. “I’m telling you, Shoko’s car has the best vibe. It's like a pre-party on wheels.”

The streets blurred by as Shoko made a sharp turn, smoothly navigating through the city. The smell of the blunt, the music, and the feeling of being wrapped up in the anticipation of the night ahead made the atmosphere almost electric.

You could feel the energy shifting between the three of you—each hit of the blunt, every beat of the song brought you closer to the night’s adventure. Passing the blunt back and forth felt like a ritual, the perfect lead-in to whatever wildness awaited at Choso’s party.

Mei Mei turned the volume up even louder, the bass thumping through the car. "Listen, when we roll up to this party, I don’t want to see anyone being shy. We’re walking in like we own the place."

Shoko snorted a laugh, holding the blunt between her fingers, eyes half-lidded from the smooth haze. "Girl, with the way we’re gonna look, they’ll think we do."

You leaned forward between the seats, the effects of the blunt slowly wrapping you in its cozy embrace. Mei mei then chimed up "Alright, alright, but first things first—who’s gonna pull Toji out of whatever dark corner he’s brooding in?”

Mei Mei raised a hand casually. "yn will handle that. He’s been acting all mysterious lately—needs a little yn energy to snap out of it." She grinned, then tilted her head towards Shoko . "But I’m counting on you lieri to make sure his friends don’t get all weird. We’re here to vibe, not deal with any drama."

You nodded, already mentally prepping yourself. "Don’t worry. I’ve got this."

The car started to slow down as you neared Choso’s place, the familiar lights of the venue coming into view. Shoko flicked the blunt out the window, a trail of smoke swirling in the wind. “Alright, last call. Y’all ready?”

You, Mei Mei, and Shoko exchanged glances, each of you wearing the same knowing smile. The night was young, and the party was waiting.

"Let’s make this one for the books," you said, adjusting your corset top and getting ready to step out of the car, fully prepared for whatever wildness the night had in store.

As Shoko parked the car on the curb, you could already feel the thrum of the music vibrating under your feet, the bass from Lloyd’s "You" blaring from the open doors of Choso’s place. The house was lit up like a club, neon lights flickering through the windows, and groups of people drifted in and out as if the whole city had shown up for the party.

“This looks like a whole rave,” Mei Mei commented, eyes scanning the large house that stood towering at the end of the street. You couldn’t help but agree—between the pulsing music, flashing lights, and people dressed like they were hitting the hottest club downtown, this was definitely not the typical house party.

As you stepped out of the car, a couple of girls in super short skirts and no tops walked past, laughing loudly as they sashayed up the steps. You, Mei Mei, and Shoko exchanged quick, amused glances, and Shoko let out a low whistle. "Damn, it's that kind of party, then?"

Mei Mei smirked, adjusting her corset. “Guess I was right to go bold with this outfit. I feel practically modest now.” She nudged you with her elbow, eyeing your ensemble. “Girl, you’re gonna make some noise tonight.”

You laughed, smoothing down your light denim shorts. "I was worried it was too much, but now…" You gestured toward the half-naked crowd around you. "I might be underdressed."

Shoko shook her head with a chuckle. “Nah, you look fire. Let’s get inside and see what kind of trouble we can stir up.”

The three of you walked up to the house, already feeling the infectious energy in the air. The front doors were wide open, people spilling in and out, and the lights from inside flashed neon blue and purple, making the whole place look like a club. You could see people dancing just past the entrance, the living room transformed into a makeshift dance floor.

As you stepped inside, you noticed how big the house really was. The ceilings were high, and the entire space was filled with people—some dancing, others lounging on couches with drinks in hand, the scent of alcohol and weed hanging thick in the air. The music thumped, filling every corner of the room.

Your eyes wandered toward the corner where a makeshift bar had been set up, and sure enough, Choso was there, leaning against the counter with a smirk on his face. His younger half-brother, Yuuji, was by his side, handing out shots, and Megumi—Toji’s younger brother—was stacking bottles behind the bar.

Choso spotted the three of you walking over and raised an eyebrow, his eyes quickly scanning you from head to toe. His lips curled into a slow, teasing grin as you approached. "Well, well, well," he drawled, leaning one elbow on the bar. "Look who decided to show up."

You tilted your head, flashing him a playful smile. "And miss out on this? Not a chance."

His eyes lingered on your outfit for a moment longer before he leaned in closer, lowering his voice just enough for you to hear. "Toji’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you tonight."

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you leaned against the bar. "Yeah, right. I’m just here to have a good time."

Choso smirked, leaning back again. "A good time, huh? With that look, you might start a riot." He glanced at Mei Mei and Shoko, who had sidled up next to you. "Y’all came to shut the place down, didn’t you?"

Mei Mei shrugged, feigning innocence. “We can’t help it if people start losing their minds around us.”

Shoko grinned, leaning in as she glanced around the room. “We haven’t even started yet.”

Choso chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Let’s kick this off right. What’s it gonna be, ladies?”

You grinned. “Shots, obviously. We need to get this night going.”

Choso snapped his fingers at Yuuji, who was already grabbing bottles. “A round of shots for these queens, on me,” he said, flashing you a wink.

As Yuuji poured the drinks, Megumi handed over the shot glasses, his expression stoic as usual, but you caught the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned against the bar, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold.

“Here you go.” Yuuji handed the shots to you, Mei Mei, and Shoko, the drinks glistening in the neon light.

“Let’s toast,” you said, holding your glass up.

“To an unforgettable night,” Shoko added, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she clinked her glass against yours.

Mei Mei raised her shot, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “To being the baddest bitches in the room.”

You all knocked back the shots, the burn of the alcohol sliding smoothly down your throat, instantly warming you up and setting the mood for the night. You could feel the buzz starting to build, the combination of the music, the alcohol, and the electric energy around you fueling the excitement.

“Now that’s how you start a party,” you said, grinning as you set the empty glass down on the counter.

Choso leaned forward, resting his arms on the bar as he studied you for a moment. “You sure you’re ready for this? I’m pretty sure things are gonna get wild.”

Mei Mei laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Wild is exactly what we came for.”

Shoko nodded, her expression serious but playful. “We’re here for chaos, controlled chaos. Think you can keep up?”

Choso raised an eyebrow, glancing at Megumi, who gave a subtle shrug. “I mean, we can try.”

“You better,” you teased, winking at Choso before turning to your girls. “Alright, who’s ready to dance?”

Shoko grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the makeshift dance floor. "Let’s see if this party can keep up with us."

Mei Mei followed close behind, her eyes scanning the room with a devilish grin. "Oh, they’re definitely not ready."

You then saw a topless girl walk up to the bar area and grazed her hand against choso's chest and smiled, put something in her mouth then kissed him and mouthed see you later.

Choso laughed and said Well I'm getting it tonight. Your eyes widen and mei mei said lighten up yn. You then asked where is Toji?. Megumi piped up saying "Idk, probably getting his dick sucked somewhere"

Megumi shrugged, completely unfazed. "Just saying."

"Ignore him, Y/N," Yuuji said with an apologetic smile. "Megumi's an ass sometimes."

The music shifted, and "Wanna Be" by GloRilla and Megan Thee Stallion started blasting through the speakers. The beat was infectious, but your mind was somewhere else. You had to find Toji. Maybe it was the drinks loosening your resolve, but something in you needed to know where he was and what he was doing.

“I’m gonna go look for him,” you said, grabbing a cup from the bar and filling it with gin and cranberry juice.

Mei Mei arched an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Shoko waved you off with a smirk, "Good luck."

With a new drink in hand, you pushed through the crowd, weaving between groups of people dancing, shaking their hips and grinding to the music. The place was wild, people were smoking openly, some had lines of cocaine set up on the tables, and others were sprawled out on couches in various stages of undress.

And then you saw him before he saw you.

Toji was sprawled on a long, blood-red leather couch, looking every bit the king of the scene. He wore a fitted black wife beater that clung to his muscles displaying all his tattoos about his arms and neck, paired with black cargo pants and classic black Timberland boots. His 9mm thick and 24-inch Figaro gold chain glistened in the dim lighting, catching the soft glow of the overhead lights.

Sukuna sat next to him, dressed in his signature style—a tight, sleeveless black shirt that showed off his intricate tattoos and loose gray cargo pants. He had two chains, one shorter and another slightly longer, and his usual cocky expression. Girls draped over him too, one with short blue hair and the other with long, sleek dark hair, both in minimal clothing, clinging to his every word.

Geto sat on the other side of Toji, wearing a dark purple silk button-up shirt, half-unbuttoned to reveal his chest tattoo, paired with tight black jeans and combat boots. He had his hair in a loose ponytail, a look that somehow made him appear both effortlessly cool and utterly unattainable. Two girls were beside him as well, one practically sitting in his lap, while another twirled her fingers through his long hair.

But it was Toji who held your attention.

There were two girls all over him, one with a tight, slinky black dress draped against his chest, her hand sliding down his shoulder to his arm, while another was perched on his lap, fingers lightly tracing over his abs. You felt your stomach flip, jealousy twisting inside of you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. You thought he was better than this, at least.

One of the girls lit a joint and held it to Toji’s lips. He took a slow, deep drag, exhaling the smoke lazily. Just as you were about to look away, Sukuna nudged him, and suddenly, Toji’s eyes locked onto yours.

Toji’s POV

Toji sat back on the blood-red leather couch, feeling the weight of the night settle over him like a familiar blanket. He loved this—feeling like a king, girls surrounding him, the low murmur of voices and laughter blending with the heavy bass of the music. Sukuna and Geto were on either side of him, and for once, he didn’t care about much. He never really did, not since Y/N.

He glanced at the two girls draped over him— Rain and Reina, Twins of course. They were his usual, girls who knew how to play the part, never expecting more than what he was willing to give. He wasn’t sure why he had them around tonight, maybe out of boredom or just because that’s what people expected him to do. He barely registered their touches, his mind elsewhere, lost in thoughts he didn’t care to admit to himself.

Sukuna, with his usual smirk, leaned in to talk about the race earlier in the night. “I’m collecting Hiromi’s car first thing tomorrow for you, just to piss him off,” Sukuna said with a laugh, his eyes flashing with mischief.

Toji chuckled darkly. “Yeah, he won’t know what hit him.” He took a deep drag of the joint Reina held up to his lips, the smoke filling his lungs and clouding his thoughts for a brief moment.

It was the same routine—women, weed, sex, violence and a bit of daily chaos—but it never felt the same anymore. Not since Y/N had walked out of his life. He didn’t even understand why he kept these girls around. Rain was pressing her chest against him, and Reina’s hands were on his abs, but none of it stirred him the way Y/N used to. He shook off the thought, focusing back on his conversation with Sukuna.

But then, Sukuna nudged him. “Yo, check it,” Sukuna murmured, nodding toward the crowd.

Toji followed his gaze and locked eyes with you, standing across the room, holding a cup in your hand and looking like you were ready to either kill him or turn around and walk out.

His heart stopped for a second. You were the last person he expected to see him like this, but fuck, did you look good. He could see the subtle jealousy in your eyes as you looked at the girls on his lap, and something about that ignited a spark in him.

He kept his expression neutral as he took the joint from Reina, his grip on the joint tightened slightly. He had no idea what you were about to do, but for the first time tonight, he actually cared about something.

Toji sat up straighter on the couch when he saw the disgust in your eyes. That flash of anger—it did something to him. The way you stared at him with a mix of betrayal and fury, though, hit him differently tonight. It gnawed at his chest, pulling him out of the haze he’d been floating in all night.

Sukuna, ever the instigator, chuckled darkly beside him, elbowing Toji lightly. “Oh, you’re fucked, man,” he muttered with a smirk. “She does not look happy to see you with Reina and Rain.”

Toji exhaled sharply, a whistle-like sigh escaping his lips as he watched you standing there, frozen for a second. His heart clenched when you turned to walk away, thinking you were done with him for good. But just as he felt that familiar ache, you whipped back around, storming toward him with fire in your eyes.

Here we go, Toji thought, bracing himself.

Geto, who had been quiet up until now, leaned back on the couch with a wide grin, clearly entertained. “This is gonna be good,” he drawled, sipping his drink like it was the best show of the night.

Before Toji could even get a word out, you were standing in front of him, glaring down at the girls who hadn’t even bothered to move from his lap.

“What the fuck is this?” you snapped, pointing at Reina and Rain like they were nothing more than an annoyance.

The twins, clearly unfazed, exchanged glances and then looked you up and down with an air of dismissal. Reina, the one pressed against Toji’s chest, lazily flicked her hair back and smirked. “Who is she?” she asked in a sultry tone, not even trying to hide her disdain.

“You’re blocking the view,” Rain added, a bored look on her face as she shifted slightly in Toji’s lap, making herself more comfortable.

Toji’s jaw tightened. This was spiraling quickly, and he knew how bad it looked. But you weren’t just some girl—you mattered. More than he wanted to admit.

You gave them a tight-lipped smile, but your eyes were full of venom. You stared down at the cup in your hand, swirling the liquid inside with a calculating look. For a brief second, Toji could see the exact moment when you decided to act.

You started to tilt the cup toward Reina, but before you could pour it on them, Toji’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you. His grip was firm, but not rough. He wasn’t going to let you go through with it.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. “It isn’t what it looks like.”

Your eyes flashed with anger, disbelief. “Oh, really?” you bit back. “Because it sure looks like you’re sitting here with your some fuck ass hoes on your lap while I was invited here to look like a damn fool.”

Toji’s heart pounded. He didn’t care about Reina or Rain, not the way he cared about you. They were just... there, filling the space, keeping up the appearance he thought he needed to maintain. But you—you were different. He didn’t even know why he let things get this far.

Reina shifted, clearly feeling the tension, but still not backing down. “What’s the big deal?” she murmured. “We’ve always been around.”

You shot her a look so sharp it could cut through steel. “That’s about to change.”

Toji released your wrist slowly, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what to say next. He couldn’t just let you walk away.

“Y/N,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his tone more serious. “I don’t care about them. You know that.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Could’ve fooled me, Toji. This is the shit you choose? Over me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling inside him. He wasn’t good with words, never had been. But he knew he had to say something to stop you from walking out the door for good.

“I’ve been an idiot,” he admitted, his voice gruff but honest. “But this? It doesn’t mean anything.”

The tension between you and the twins was thick enough to cut with a knife, but Toji didn’t let them distract him. His focus was on you, the only person in the room who mattered to him.

You glared at Toji, your anger flaring like wildfire. “It doesn’t mean anything. Don’t... don’t piss me off, Toji. Don’t play me for an ass.”

Your voice was steady but low, each word laced with a fierce determination to stand your ground. “Anyway, I came here to enjoy myself, so fuck this shit and fuck you too…”

Toji watched as you stormed off, his heart sinking with every step you took away from him. He closed his eyes, counting to ten in an attempt to calm the storm brewing inside him. The tension in his chest felt like a vice grip, squeezing tighter with each passing second.

When he finally opened his eyes, he pushed Rain and Reina off his lap, both girls exchanging confused glances as they stumbled slightly. “What the hell?” Rain muttered, but Toji didn’t have time to explain. He needed to find you.

The party was loud, pulsating with energy, but his focus was singular. He scanned the crowd, weaving between groups of people dancing, laughing, and drinking. And then he saw you.

You were at the DJ booth, looking carefree, your laughter blending with the thumping bass of the music. Gojo stood next to you, casually leaning against the booth, dressed in a fitted white tee that hugged his muscular frame perfectly, paired with distressed black jeans that hung low on his hips. His signature style—a silver chain glinting in the dim light—added to his laid-back allure.

You were surrounded by Choso, Mei Mei, Shoko, Megumi, and Yuuji. The group radiated an easy camaraderie that made Toji’s stomach twist.

Your eyes were slightly red, a telltale sign of the blunt rotation that had been going on. It was as if you were trying to forget the chaos that had just unfolded between the two of you.

Toji approached, but you didn’t even glance in his direction. He felt a simmering frustration rise within him. Why were you ignoring him?

“Y/N,” he called, trying to catch your eye. The music pulsed around them, Les by Childish Gambino thumping throughout the party. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him. But you turned your back, engaging in conversation with Gojo, who leaned closer, laughing at something you said.

Toji clenched his fists, resisting the urge to storm over and yank you away from him. He didn’t want to come off as jealous, but the sight of you with Gojo stirred something dark within him—an urge to claim what was his.

Choso caught sight of Toji, a knowing look passing between them. “You good, man?” he asked, his tone serious but with a hint of humor.

“Not really,” Toji replied through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on you. “I need to talk to her.”

Megumi chimed in, “You better make it good. She looks ready to snap.”

Toji nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He walked closer, his heart racing, trying to push through the crowd and reach you. But each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a lead blanket.

Finally, he stood in front of you, eyes locked onto yours, trying to break through the haze of smoke and laughter that surrounded you. “Y/N,” he said again, his voice low and intense, cutting through the noise.

You turned to face him, a flicker of defiance in your eyes. “What do you want, Toji?”

“I want to talk,” he said, his tone more forceful now. “I don’t want to fight. Just give me a minute.”

You crossed your arms, your expression challenging. “Why should I? You’ve made it pretty clear you’re too busy for me.”

Gojo, sensing the tension, took a small step back, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “This looks like a soap opera. Are we getting popcorn?”

Toji shot him a glare, but it didn’t break his focus on you. He took a step closer, lowering his voice to a near whisper, his expression darkening. “I’m not letting you walk away from me like this, Y/N. I care, even if I’m a mess sometimes. Just listen to me for a second.”

Your gaze flickered, something shifting in your expression. For a moment, he thought he saw a crack in your armor, a glimmer of the bond you once shared. But then you hardened again, your resolve fortifying itself against the storm brewing between you.

“Fine,” you said, your voice steely. “But make it quick. I’m not wasting my night on you.”

Toji could feel the weight of your words hanging in the air, thick with unspoken emotions.

He leaned in closer, his voice low and rough, “Just know, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

You felt Toji’s hand on your arm as he pulled you away from the chaotic noise of the party, guiding you through the throng of bodies until you reached a quieter space upstairs on the rooftop of the house. The music thumped faintly below, and the dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low and earnest, “I know how that looked. It’s... it’s just how things are in my world.”

You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes as frustration boiled within you. “Spew that bullshit to someone else, Toji. I’m not in the mood for your excuses.”

He sighed, stepping closer, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine despite your anger. “It’s... just for the image,” he insisted, as if that explanation could justify everything.

“Image?” you raised your voice, unable to contain the heat surging through you. “If that’s your life, then cool. But you can’t be eyeing me up all over campus and then have me see you like that! It’s fucking bullshit, Toji. You knew Choso invited me and my friends here tonight… the fuck are you on? Crack or something?”

The frustration in your voice hung in the air, thick and charged. Toji’s expression shifted, and you could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. It was the kind of look that made your heart race, even as your anger simmered.

“I’m not—” he began, but you cut him off, your voice rising with each word.

“You’re not what? Just some guy who can act like a king with girls all over him? That’s exactly what it looks like, Toji! You’re out here living your best life while I’m sitting there, feeling like a fool.”

His frustration matched yours, and the air crackled between you like a live wire. “You don’t understand!” he shot back, his voice rising just enough to match your own. “I have a reputation to maintain, and certain things...there's certain i just have to do. The people I be...the people anyway—they don’t give a shit about who I care about! They don’t know about you!”

The defensiveness in his tone only fueled your anger. “Then why the hell did even let Choso invite me here? Was this all a game to you? Just another girl to add to your collection?” You couldn’t help the bitterness creeping into your voice, each word feeling like a dagger aimed straight at him.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you until the heat radiating off his body enveloped you. “It’s not a game, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down your spine. “You’re not just another girl to me. You’re—”

“—what?” you interrupted, daring him to finish his thought. Your heart pounded, and for a moment, you were caught between anger and the undeniable pull you felt toward him. “What am I, Toji?”

“Everything,” he said, his eyes boring into yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re everything I shouldn’t want but can’t seem to let go of.”

A silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You could feel the tension thrumming in the air, a mixture of frustration and something deeper that neither of you wanted to admit.

“I don’t want to be your dirty little secret,” you said, your voice quieter but no less fierce. “I deserve better than that, Toji.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re right. You do deserve better. But I’m not the guy who knows how to give you that.”

“Then what are you?” you asked, your heart racing as his fingers lingered against your skin, the intimacy of the moment making it harder to stay angry. “Because right now, it just feels like you’re playing games.”

He hesitated, and in that brief silence, you could see the battle within him, the conflict between the man you cared about and the image he felt forced to maintain. “I’m trying to figure it all out,” he finally admitted, his voice low. “I’m caught between two worlds, and I don’t know how to balance it. But I’m not willing to let you go. Not now, not ever.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling into your chest, a mix of anger and longing swirling within you. “Then stop being that guy, Toji. Stop playing into the image. Just be real with me.”

The moment hung in the air, thick with anticipation and unresolved emotions. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off his body, and every instinct in you screamed to close the distance and bridge the gap between anger and desire.

“I’ll try, but I got obligations and shit” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But you have to meet me halfway.”

You nodded, the tension between you shifting, morphing into something more complicated. “I’ll think about it, but you better figure your shit out before I decide to walk away for good.”

Toji smirked, a glimmer of his usual confidence returning. “You really think you can walk away from me that easily?”

"Yes, I can walk away, Toji,” you said frankly, your heart racing despite the cool facade you tried to maintain.

His expression shifted, a challenge sparking in his eyes as he pulled you closer, the heat radiating off him enveloping you. He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Do it, Y/N. I dare you to walk away from this…” His voice dropped lower, deeper, thick with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “From me.”

A rush of emotions surged within you—anger, desire, confusion—all swirling together in a whirlwind. You could feel the pulse of the music below, a distant reminder of the chaos outside this moment, but right now, all that mattered was the way he was looking at you.

“Why do....why are you doing this?” you breathed, fighting the urge to lean into him. “Why do you keep pulling me in and pushing me away?”

“Because I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips so close you could almost taste the words. “I want you, … but there is a lot that can complicate everything.”

His eyes bore into yours, raw and vulnerable, and for a fleeting moment, you could see the man behind the bravado, the one who was just as scared as you were. “But I don’t want to lose you,” he continued, his grip on your waist tightening as if he were afraid you might slip away.

Your heart raced at his confession, the tension between you thickening like a charged current. “Then stop acting like you don’t care. Stop letting those girls drape all over you,” you challenged, trying to sound strong, but your voice wavered slightly, betraying your own vulnerability.

Toji’s gaze darkened, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. “You think it’s that easy? You think I’m doing it because I want to? It’s all part of the image, Y/N. It's what my world is like.”

“Then change it!” you shot back, frustration boiling over. “You don’t have to play that role! Just be honest with me, with yourself, If you want me, then stop pretending you’re something you’re not.”

He stared at you, the weight of your words settling in the air between you. “And if I did that?” he asked, his voice low and intense. “What if I told you I wanted to be with you? That I’d choose you over all of this?”

The intensity in his gaze made your heart race, and you felt a mix of hope and fear swirling within you. “Then show me,” you challenged, your voice steady. “Show me that you mean it, and maybe I won’t walk away.”

For a moment, silence enveloped you both, the world outside fading into the background as the unspoken tension hung thick in the air. You could feel the weight of the moment, a decision teetering on the edge of something monumental.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice low but filled with determination. “I will. Just… don’t walk away yet.”

Toji leaned in closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, the urgency of the moment igniting something deep within you. The way he looked at you made your heart race, and before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the gap, your lips barely brushing against his in a tentative kiss.

The moment his lips met yours, the world around you exploded into color. All the anger and frustration melted away, replaced by an intoxicating rush of desire and longing. Toji deepened the kiss, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you even closer, as if trying to erase the distance that had separated you for so long.

As you kissed him, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, as if all the barriers you had built up were finally crumbling. It was messy and heated, the tension that had built between you igniting into a blaze that consumed everything in its path.

But just as quickly as it had begun, the kiss broke, leaving you both breathless and wide-eyed, the reality of the situation crashing back down around you. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the weight of his world pressing down on him even as he held you close.

“What are we doing, Toji?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, heart pounding in your chest as the adrenaline from the kiss still coursed through your veins.

He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t know,” he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice making your heart ache. “But I’m willing to figure it out if you are.”

A part of you wanted to scream and pull away, to protect yourself from the messiness that was Toji’s life. But another part, the one that craved him and the connection you both are building and sharing, pushing you to take the leap.

“Then let’s figure it out together,” you said softly, a hint of determination threading through your words. You felt the tension shift, morphing into something deeper, a promise of what was to come.

Toji nodded, a small smile breaking through the heaviness in his eyes. “Together,” he echoed, his voice steady, as he pulled you closer once more, sealing the unspoken promise with another kiss.

You could taste the smoke on his breath mingled with the remnants of alcohol, a heady combination that sent your heart racing. Toji’s gaze roamed over you, dark and hungry, and you could feel the heat of his stare igniting every nerve in your body.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice a low rumble as he bit his lip, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You look…”

He trailed off, his words hanging in the air, thick with desire. You could feel your cheeks flush under his intense scrutiny, your heart pounding in your chest as anticipation hung between you.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, his fingers deftly rolling it between his hands. You watched as he lit it, taking a long drag before exhaling slowly, the smoke curling around him in lazy tendrils. He was trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him, but all it did was draw your attention to his lips, still glistening from your kiss.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a mix of curiosity and something deeper as you took a step closer, the air thick with tension.

“Just trying to keep it together,” he replied, his gaze flicking back to you, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

You swallowed hard, heart racing at his admission. “Maybe I do,” you shot back, a teasing edge to your voice, even as you felt your own desire rising.

“Yeah?” He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking as he exhaled another puff of smoke, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. “Then you know this isn’t just a game for me. I mean it, Y/N.”

Toji pulled Y/n close, the space between them vanishing in an instant as his strong arm wrapped around her waist. The scent of smoke and leather clung to him, intoxicating and rough around the edges, just like the man himself. His breath was warm against her ear as he leaned in, his voice low and almost dangerous, “Tell me about yourself, Y/n. Any and everything. Don’t hold back.”

Y/n could feel the heat radiating from his body, her own pulse quickening as she tried to steady her thoughts. This was Toji Zenin—tattooed, mysterious, and notoriously private—yet here he was, demanding pieces of her as if he had every right to them.

She cleared her throat, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I’m an architecture major… interior design too. I like to create things, see how spaces can transform. It’s about balance—how the right details can bring everything together.”

Toji’s lips curled into a slow, approving smile, the glint in his eyes darkening with interest. “Balance, huh?” he mused, his fingers now lightly tracing along the small of her back, sending electric currents through her skin. “Sounds like you’ve got a vision. I can respect that.”

His touch was light, teasing, but Y/n could sense the power behind it. The tattoos that laced his arms and crept up his neck were a map of stories she had yet to uncover. Her eyes drifted to the ink, unable to help herself, the detailed designs seeming to shift and move with every breath he took.

“What about music?” he asked, breaking her from her trance. His voice was casual, but there was a deeper edge to it, like he was testing her. “What kind of stuff do you listen to?”

Y/n smirked a little, leaning back slightly to catch his gaze. “R&B mostly… but punk rock too. Depends on my mood, really.”

Toji’s smile widened, his thumb brushing over her waist as he drew her back in, closer than before. “Didn’t peg you for a punk rock girl, but I like surprises.” His eyes raked over her, studying every inch. “You’ve got more layers than I thought.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, caught between fascination and the undeniable pull she felt toward him. “I guess I’m not what most people expect,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, but even she could feel the weight of their proximity.

“And I like that,” Toji murmured, his voice dropping lower, his lips now grazing the shell of her ear. “But I’m curious about something else…” He paused, the playful glint in his eyes returning. “You’ve got a weakness for tatted men, don’t you?”

The question hit her like a punch to the gut. She froze for a moment, her mind scrambling for a reply, but the way his fingers gripped her waist—possessive and knowing—told her that he already knew the answer. Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, vibrating against her skin. “I can tell,” he said, amused and confident. “The way you keep staring at mine…” His free hand lifted, trailing up her arm, his fingertips ghosting over her bare skin. “You like it, don’t you?”

Y/n’s breath hitched, her body betraying her composure as a surge of heat rushed through her. She knew she should say something, anything, to maintain control of the situation—but it was slipping, and fast.

Toji’s grip on her waist tightened, his lips now brushing the curve of her neck, his breath sending shivers down her spine. “What else, Y/n? What else do you have a weakness for?” His voice was smooth but carried a sharp edge, daring her to reveal more. “Tell me. I want to know everything. I want to see how weak I can make you for me.”

Her mind swirled, torn between the urge to pull away and the thrill of letting him draw her deeper. “I don’t… I don’t think you could handle everything,” she whispered, her voice shaky but holding a hint of defiance.

Toji smirked against her skin, his lips pressing a firm kiss to the crook of her neck. “I think you underestimate me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dark and filled with promise. He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes locking with hers, intense and unyielding. “You have no idea how far I’m willing to go.”

Y/n swallowed hard, her thoughts racing. There was something dangerous about him, something she couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t just the tatted-up, confident guy who hung out with Sukuna and Geto. There was something darker beneath the surface, something that called to her curiosity—and her instincts to run.

“What are you hiding?” she asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it.

Toji’s expression shifted, his smile fading just slightly. “Everyone’s got secrets, Y/n. Some just run deeper than others.” His hand remained firmly on her waist, holding her in place as he spoke. “But don’t worry… mine won’t hurt you.” His voice lowered, the intensity in his gaze returning. “Unless you want them to.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. There was a fine line between danger and desire—and Toji Zenin was balancing on the edge of both.

As Y/n leaned into the intensity of Toji’s gaze, fully caught up in the moment, the air between them was suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps and a familiar voice shouting from across the room.

“Toji! Oi, where the hell are you?” Sukuna’s voice rang out, breaking the tension.

Toji’s jaw clenched in irritation, but he didn’t let go of Y/n, his grip on her waist staying firm. His focus never wavered, his dark eyes still locked on hers. Y/n was about to speak, but before she could, Sukuna strolled into view, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of them—cozying up alone. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at Sukuna’s lips.

“Well, well, well,” Sukuna drawled, his tattooed arms crossing over his chest as he sauntered closer. “Looks like someone’s keeping themselves busy.”

Before Sukuna could tease or warn Toji about whatever was coming, the atmosphere shifted again. This time, the voice that rang out wasn’t Sukuna’s.

“Hey there, nephew.”

Toji instantly stiffened. The voice alone made his entire body tense. Slowly, he released Y/n, though his hand lingered just a second longer on her waist than necessary, as if he didn’t want to let her go. He shot Sukuna a look—one that silently told him everything. Watch her.

Y/n blinked in confusion, feeling the sudden shift in Toji’s demeanor. She turned her head slightly, following his gaze. That’s when she saw him—a man standing near the stairs, tall and imposing, with a sharp suit that screamed power. His eyes, cold and calculating, flickered over to Y/n before returning to Toji.

It was his uncle. The man who owned the mechanic shop where Toji worked part-time. The same man who held a far more dangerous title behind closed doors—head of the Zenin Mafia. A public secret, whispered about but never confirmed. Y/n, of course, had no idea.

Toji walked over to his uncle with measured steps, his body language shifting completely. Gone was the casual, teasing guy who had been flirting with Y/n just moments before. In his place was someone harder, someone colder.

As Toji approached, his uncle’s gaze lingered on Y/n for a brief moment before turning back to him, a sly smile curling his lips. “And who is she?” his uncle asked, his tone sharp, though there was something almost amused behind it.

Toji didn’t falter. His voice was flat, calm. “No one important, uncle.”

Y/n couldn’t hear their conversation from where she stood, but she could feel the weight of it. She glanced over at Sukuna, who had casually taken her side, leaning against a nearby wall, his gaze sharp and alert. His usual smirk was nowhere to be seen.

Toji’s uncle let out a laugh that echoed through the room. “No one important? Could’ve fooled me.” He turned slightly, looking back at Toji with a raised brow. “You’re needed tonight, boy. I thought I’d give you the heads-up.”

Toji’s eyes narrowed, his annoyance barely hidden. “I thought I had the night off,” he said, his voice carrying a subtle bite.

His uncle’s smile grew wider, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “There’s no night off when you’re in the position you’re in, nephew. You know that.” His voice dropped lower, more menacing. “You’ll be taking over for me one day. There’s no rest in that.”

Toji’s face remained expressionless, but Y/n could sense the tension between them. She didn’t understand what they were talking about, but the weight of their conversation made her stomach churn.

His uncle gave him a pat on the shoulder, though the gesture felt anything but comforting. “But don’t worry, we’ve got a little job for you tonight. Something easy. You’ll want to handle this one personally.”

Toji’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering over to Y/n for the briefest moment before he responded. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

His uncle’s grin returned, but there was something sinister behind it. “Good. Don’t keep us waiting.” With that, he turned and began descending the stairs, leaving Toji standing there, tension radiating from his every move.

Y/n’s gaze met Toji’s across the room, and for a split second, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something torn between the life he lived and the one he might’ve wanted. But before she could ask, Sukuna cleared his throat beside her, casually resting a hand on her shoulder.

“Well, guess it’s time for me to babysit, huh?” Sukuna said with a grin, though his tone was layered with an edge of seriousness.

Toji finally walked back over, his face a mask of calm, though Y/n could feel the storm brewing beneath. He leaned in close again, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “Stay with Sukuna for a bit. I’ll be back.”

Before she could protest or ask what was going on, Toji was already gone, walking into the night to handle business she couldn’t even begin to understand.

Y/n stood frozen for a moment, her mind spinning. The casual, yet commanding way Toji had whispered those words left a chill running down her spine. She glanced up at Sukuna, who gave her a lazy smile, but there was something unspoken behind his eyes.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Sukuna muttered, lighting up a cigarette and exhaling the smoke lazily. “Toji knows what he’s doing.” He paused, taking a deep drag before lowering his voice. “He always does.”

Y/n frowned, trying to push down the uneasy feeling creeping up her chest. She had known there was more to Toji than just his mysterious, bad-boy exterior, but the scene she just witnessed was something else entirely. The way his uncle commanded the room, the way Toji slipped effortlessly into that cold, unfeeling persona… it felt like she had stepped into a different world. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to be part of.

But then again, it wasn’t like Toji had ever told her much about himself. He kept things close to the chest, always avoiding any conversation that dipped too deeply into his personal life. And yet, she couldn’t deny the pull he had on her. Something about the danger, the mystery—it was intoxicating.

She let out a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. “What does Toji do, exactly?” she finally asked, not really expecting Sukuna to give her a straight answer.

Sukuna smirked, his eyes narrowing as he exhaled another puff of smoke. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice teasing. “He’s a man of many talents. You’ve seen that firsthand.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the curiosity gnawing at her. “It’s not just cars and school, is it?” she pressed, her voice soft but firm.

Sukuna let out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You’ve got sharp instincts, huh?” He leaned back against the wall, looking at her with a mixture of approval and something else, something darker. “But some things are better left unsaid, Y/n.”

His words didn’t reassure her. If anything, they only deepened the unease she felt. But just as she was about to push further, Sukuna’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen before his expression shifted, growing serious. He tucked the phone back into his jacket, pushing himself off the wall.

“Well, looks like I’ve gotta handle something too,” Sukuna said, his tone more businesslike now. He tossed the cigarette aside, crushing it beneath his boot. “Don’t wander off, yeah? Toji will be back soon. You can wait here or head back down to the party. your choice." Sukuna gave you a once over "Maybe you should chill up here before Toji has to....anyway see you around."

Before Y/n could ask him anything more, Sukuna gave her one last glance—something almost protective behind the way he looked at her—and then he disappeared down the stairs, leaving her alone on the rooftop.

Y/n stood there for a moment, staring after him, feeling more lost than ever. What had she gotten herself into? She thought back to when she first saw Toji, leaning against the wall outside the library, casually smoking with Sukuna and the others, his tattooed arms on full display. She hadn’t known anything about him then, but even then, she had felt drawn to him—like a moth to a flame.

Now, that fire seemed even more dangerous.

You deciced to stay upstairs and watch the throng of bodies walk in and out of the house and around the large yard, party, do drugs and just live. You pulled out your phone and scrolled tik tok trying to piece together everything that happened so far. It was almost 2 hours later. The party still lively just as when you arrived, you decided to finally head back down to enjoy the rest of the party since you weren''t sure when Toji or Sukuna would return and you're started to feel weirdly stood up.

Suddenly Toji finally returned, the air around him was even more intense. His face was shadowed, jaw clenched as if he were still carrying the weight of whatever conversation he had just had with his uncle, or maybe something else. He barely glanced at her as he came closer, his hand moving to her lower back to guide her away from the rooftop’s edge.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Y/n hesitated for a split second, but the intensity in his eyes made it clear this wasn’t the time to argue. She followed him down the stairs, into the dimly lit streets, her mind racing with questions. What was he involved in? Why did his uncle have such control over him? And why did Toji, who seemed so set on carving his own path with his studies and passion for cars, still have one foot stuck in something so dark?

They walked in silence leaving the party, until they reached the mechanic shop where Toji worked. It was closed for the night, but he had a key, unlocking the door with ease and leading her inside. The smell of oil and metal filled the air, and Y/n watched as Toji seemed to relax slightly in the familiar surroundings. This place was his sanctuary, away from whatever pressures his family imposed on him.

He lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before turning to face her. The shadows from the overhead lights danced across his face, highlighting the scar on the left side of his lips. His tattoos peeked from under the sleeves of his shirt, and Y/n’s gaze lingered on the ink, a reminder of the danger that seemed to cling to him.

“Toji…” she started, unsure of how to begin. “What’s going on? What are you involved in?”

He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he stepped closer, his hand moving to tilt her chin up so that she was forced to meet his gaze.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with smoke slowly easing out of his mouth while he talked “You don’t need to know all the details. Just know that I’ve got things handled.”

His words should’ve reassured her, but they didn’t. Instead, they left her feeling even more uncertain. She opened her mouth to argue, to demand answers, but Toji silenced her with a kiss—rough and demanding, leaving no room for protest.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her skin. “Trust me, Y/n,” he whispered. “I’ll keep you safe. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

But even as he said the words, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that she was stepping deeper into something far more dangerous than she ever could’ve imagined.

#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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love-archer · 16 days ago

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After some amateur kissing and tongue lapping at your skin and neck and jaw, he’s not afraid to sit you in his place, kneeling between your legs as he’s pulling your pants off with lingering kissing that creep to your inner thighs. His hand in your stomach ti keep you still, little three smacks on your thigh when you try to push his head away or tug his hair. He’s also not shying away from grabbing your underthighs, pulling you to the edge and reaaallly getting his head in there: LUCIFER, LORD DIAVOLO, MAMMON

His hand is pushing your pretty back on the mattress, other ons spreading your legs. Your shirt is pulled up, way far above your stomach, his bites imprinted in fainting red on your skin. His head is busy, sandwiched with your thighs squeezing at him. Not above making loud and wet music under there as you’re so perfectly bend over his bed, ass out and your legs curling backwards when he hits a spot you love. Hand sneaking along your back to yank your hair, making you mewl louder. Not stopping until there’s a string of saliva connecting his tongue and you and you made a pathetic drenching spot under you: SATAN, ASMODEUS, BELPHIE, BARBATOS, SOLOMON

His words are slurred, voice muffled, his nails clenching at the fat of your legs as his tongue is working you, neck cranked up slightly. He doesn’t care you’re on his chest, so close on sitting on his neck, he needs more. NEEDS more. He’s starved, a bottomless pit when it comes to the mere taste of you. His hands on your ass, dragging you closer and closer. Just feed him: BEELZEBUB, LEVIATHAN, SIMEON, MAMMON

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misshoneyimhome · 24 days ago

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What’s up, buttercups!

It’s time to unwrap another steamy chapter of Sexy Christmas ☃︎! For this round, we’re cranking up the holiday heat with none other than Seth Jarvis—our favourite cheeky Hurricane 🌀🔥

This one’s for all the Seth girls out there (you know who you are 😉). Get ready for a mix of playful banter, smouldering tension, and enough holiday magic to melt the ice. Think soft Christmas lights, whispered names, and a hallway encounter that might just be the best present of the season.

Let me know what you think, and as always, happy reading, and let’s sleigh this holiday season together! 🎄✨

➼｡ﾟ

Office Holiday Party Hookup - Seth Jarvis

OC and her favourite player sneak away during the office Christmas party, finding a quiet corner to exchange more than just gifts under the twinkling holiday lights.

Tropes & warnings: 18+ smut, Seth Jarvis x reader, public, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside

Word count: 2.6K

The Carolina Hurricanes’ Christmas party was in full swing, the hum of conversation mingling with holiday music and the clinking of glasses. Strings of twinkling lights adorned every corner of the venue, casting a warm glow that softened even the most corporate edges of the evening. You stood near the refreshment table, an empty glass in hand as you scanned the room for familiar faces—or more specifically, one in particular.

Seth Jarvis.

The young star of the team, with a grin that could disarm even the most stoic, had a knack for stealing the spotlight—and your attention. His charm, quick wit, and effortless humour had made him the centre of your thoughts more than once, and tonight, it felt like the tension between you two was crackling just a little louder than usual.

“Looking for someone, or just enjoying the view?”

His familiar voice sent a thrill through you as you turned to see him approaching, two drinks in hand. He looked maddeningly good, his tailored suit hugging his athletic frame, and his trademark boyish smirk was firmly in place.

“Depends,” you replied, arching a brow. “What are my options?”

He handed you one of the glasses, his eyes sparkling with mischief as you sat the empty one aside. “Option one: me. Option two: still me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking a sip of the drink he offered. “Big talk for someone who can’t even handle his own secret Santa shopping.”

“I handled it just fine, thank you very much,” he shot back, leaning in just enough to lower his voice. “But I’ve got something better in mind for you this Christmas.”

The way he said it, low and deliberate, sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t let it show. “Is that so?”

“Dance with me,” he said suddenly, setting his glass on the nearby table and extending a hand.

You hesitated, glancing at the small dance floor where a few players and their wives swayed awkwardly to a holiday classic. “Not really my scene,” you murmured, though your heart was pounding at the invitation.

“Then let’s make our own,” he said, his grin widening as he took your hand without waiting for a reply.

Taking your glass and setting it next to his own, Seth then led you toward a quieter corner of the venue, the crowd thinning till completely out of sight as you neared the towering Christmas tree. The lights cast a golden glow over both of you, the ornaments shimmering like they were part of his plan. Seth stopped, turning to face you, his expression softening as he held onto your hand.

“See? Much better,” he said, his tone lower now, more intimate.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, though you didn’t pull away as his hands found your waist, drawing you closer.

“And yet, here you are,” he murmured, his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts playful and sincere.

The scent of his cologne, warm and inviting, mixed with the faint aroma of pine from the nearby tree. You felt your resolve weakening as his hands settled more firmly on your waist, his touch steady but teasing.

“I should get back,” you said half-heartedly, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

“But you won’t,” he countered, his voice soft and knowing as he leaned in. His eyes flicked to your lips, the air between you thickening with unspoken intent. “Will you?”

Before you could reply, his lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as though testing the waters. The kiss sent a jolt through you, igniting something that had been building for months. Seth’s hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, and your fingers curled into the fabric of his suit jacket as you kissed him back.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you whispered against his lips, though you made no effort to pull away.

“Let them watch,” he murmured, his tone full of humour but thick with desire as he captured your lips again, this time with more urgency.

Seth’s hands slid up your back, one tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. The warmth of his mouth and the way he moved against you made your head spin. When his lips left yours to trail along your jawline and down to the curve of your neck, your breath hitched, your body arching into him instinctively.

“You’ve been driving me wild all night,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear as his hands wandered lower, his touch both firm and deliberate.

“Then maybe you should do something about it,” you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He groaned softly at your words, his grip on your hips tightening as he pressed you against the wall. His kisses grew hungrier, each one a deliberate act of devotion as he explored every inch of your skin he could reach.

“Jarvy…” you whispered.

“Mmm, yes, say my name,” he murmured against your throat, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Jarv,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair as he continued his slow, deliberate assault on your senses.

His lips curved into a smile against your neck. “Again.”

“Jarvy,” you repeated, this time with more urgency, your hands sliding down to the hem of his jacket as you tugged him closer.

The intensity between you both was electric, the rest of the world fading as Seth pressed closer, his body a solid, unyielding presence against yours. His hands found the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing your thighs as he edged the fabric higher. The cool air against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him, and you gasped softly, your body instinctively leaning into his touch.

“Do you have any idea what kind of effect you have on me?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“Why don’t you show me?” you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper, but full of intent.

Seth’s lips claimed yours again, his kiss deepening as the tension between you reached a fevered pitch. His hands roamed over your waist, firm and deliberate, as though memorising every curve. The faint hum of holiday music and the soft glow of the Christmas lights seemed to fade, leaving only the heated connection between the two of you in this quiet corner.

Each touch sent shivers coursing through your body, and when his hand finally slid beneath the dress again, his palm resting firmly on your thigh, you gasped softly against his lips.

“You’ve been fucking killing me,” Seth murmured, his voice rough with restraint as his forehead pressed briefly against yours. His other hand moved to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his dark eyes met yours. “Tell me to stop if this is too much.”

But your hands just slid down to the hem of his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders in one fluid motion. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

The confirmation seemed to ignite something in him. Swiftly discarding the jacket, his hand returned on your thigh edged higher, his touch teasing as he explored the soft skin just beneath the edge of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his fingers brushed over the thin fabric, the light pressure sending a wave of pleasure through you. His lips found yours again, capturing them in a kiss that was both hungry and reverent.

“I fucking want you,” he murmured against your lips, his fingers tracing over the heat between your thighs with deliberate care. The sensation was almost overwhelming, your body responding to his touch with a desperation you couldn’t hide. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched into him, your soft moans spurring him on.

When his fingers slid beneath the fabric, finding your sensitive core with unerring precision, your knees threatened to give out entirely. Seth caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he held you steady against the wall. His lips moved to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.

“Seth,” you gasped, your voice breaking on his name as your hips rocked instinctively against his hand.

He groaned at the sound, his lips curving into a satisfied smile against your neck. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with need. “Let me hear you.”

With a little too much ease, he then slipped a finger inside you, and the pressure of his hand increased, each movement calculated to bring you closer to the edge. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as your breath came in short, uneven gasps, clinging to him. His name spilled from your lips again, and the raw desire in your voice made him press harder against you, his own breathing rough and unsteady.

And when his hardness pressed insistently against your hip, the evidence of his need sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. You reached down, your fingers fumbling with the belt and his trousers, and he froze for a moment, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

“I just want to touch you,” he hummed, his voice low but filled with concern.

You seductively licked your lips, looking up at him, your fingers tugging at the fabric with a quiet urgency. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

Seth groaned softly as he with one hand helped you free him from the confines of his trousers. You pushed them down just far enough to discover he was naked underneath. But it only made you smile as it made the situation easier for you.

Seth’s sharp intake of breath as your hand wrapped around him sent a thrilling jolt through your body. The heat and weight of him in your palm made your pulse quicken, and the low groan that escaped his lips only spurred you on. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his breath coming in uneven bursts against your skin as he adjusted to your touch.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice a low rasp, his finger still pumping inside you. “You feel so good.”

You smiled at his reaction, your hand moving with slow, deliberate strokes that had his hips jerking slightly against your touch. His head tilted back slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours, heavy-lidded with desire. There was something deeply intoxicating about the way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing grounding him in the moment.

Seth’s head fell back a bit further, his lips parting as a sharp exhale escaped him. The combination of your deliberate strokes and the rhythm of his fingers inside you created a charged connection that neither of you could resist. His hand on your waist gripped tightly, his body trembling slightly under your touch.

“You’re… so good at this,” he breathed, his voice hoarse and strained as his hips bucked slightly into your hand, seeking more. His forehead came to rest against yours again, his dark eyes fluttering closed briefly before meeting yours once more, heavy with raw need. “Mmm… I’m getting closer.”

“Good,” you whispered, your voice soft but full of intent, your grip on him tightening as your strokes became firmer, matching the intensity of his movements.

Seth groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest as his fingers inside you curled slightly, finding the spot that made your knees buckle. The gasp that escaped your lips spurred him on, his movements growing bolder as he drove you closer to the edge. His thumb circled your clit with expert precision, each stroke timed perfectly to leave you trembling in his arms.

Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your body pressing instinctively closer to his as the tension between you built to a fever pitch. The way his lips brushed against your neck, murmuring soft curses and encouragement, only heightened the electric pull between you.

“Seth,” you moaned, his name breaking on your lips as your hips moved against his hand, chasing the pleasure that was rapidly consuming you.

His free hand slid up your back, steadying you as your movements grew more desperate. His dark eyes locked onto yours, his expression a mix of awe and unrestrained desire. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Come for me.”

The raw intimacy of his words pushed you over the edge, your body tensing as a wave of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you trembling in his arms. Seth’s fingers slowed, drawing out every last aftershock until you sagged against him, your forehead resting on his shoulder as you caught your breath.

But Seth wasn’t done. His hand stilled, slipping away as he adjusted your position slightly, making you release his hardness. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and unrelenting, as his hands slid down to grip your thighs. With a soft grunt, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you fully against the wall once more.

Your hands moved to his hair, tugging lightly as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body still humming from the release he’d just given you. His need was palpable, the way his body pressed against yours leaving no doubt about how much he wanted you.

Without much effort, Seth found your entrance with his cock. Your hands remained tangled in his hair as you gasped against his lips, feeling the stretch and warmth of him as Seth pushed into you with deliberate care. A soft moan escaped you, his name spilling from your lips as your body adjusted to the intensity of the moment. His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot and uneven, his dark eyes searching yours for reassurance.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured, his voice strained with barely contained desire as he began to move. Each slow thrust was precise, deliberate, designed to leave you trembling in his arms. The rhythm he set was measured at first, his hands steadying you against the wall as he buried himself deeper with each movement.

The sound of your moans and his ragged breaths filled the quiet space, the holiday music from the party down the hall fading into the background. Seth’s grip on your thighs tightened as his pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with growing urgency. The friction, the heat, the sheer connection between you sent shivers coursing through your body, each movement igniting a fire that burned hotter with every passing second.

Your name tumbled from his lips like a prayer, his voice rough and filled with need. The way he moved inside you—strong, purposeful, and utterly focused—left you breathless, your hands clinging to his shoulders as he drove you closer to the edge once more.

“Fuck, I can’t—” he gasped, his movements growing erratic as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body taut with tension. “I’m—”

“Let go,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, your voice trembling but full of encouragement. “Come with me, Jarv.”

Seth groaned deeply, his head falling to your shoulder as he thrust into you one last time, his body shuddering with the force of his release. The warmth of him spilling inside you sent a wave of pleasure through you, your own body tightening in response as you held him close, your breaths mingling in the heated aftermath.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the two of you clinging to each other in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. Seth’s hands moved to cradle your face, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was tender, almost reverent.

“You’re… amazing,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead to yours, his dark eyes filled with a mix of affection and awe.

You smiled, your fingers trailing softly along the back of his neck as you murmured, “Merry Christmas, Seth.”

“Merry Christmas.”

#18+ smut #sexy christmas #seth Jarvis smut #seth jarvis x reader #seth jarvis imagine #seth jarvis fanfic #carolina hurricanes imagine #carolina hurricanes fanfic #nhl hockey smut #nhl hockey fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey romance

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rottenpumpkin13 · 5 months ago

Note

Do you think Zack's parents kept in contact with Cloud after FF7? If so, do they baby him like they did Zack?

There came a point after everything was revealed—that Cloud did remember Zack, that he was the first real friend he had ever known, that Zack gave his life to ensure Cloud’s stayed untainted by an early grave—where things between Cloud and Zack’s parents cooled into a lukewarm place where no one dared test the waters more than they had to.

Zack's father looked far too much like Zack; he had his face, his walk, his smile, and he was alive. He was older. To Cloud, it was like staring at a picture of Zack he would only ever have in memory, one where Zack grew old and led a full life. It was painful.

As for Zack's mother, Cloud felt the longing in her touches when she hugged him goodbye, wanting to hug him just a while longer, squeezing her eyes shut as she held him close. Cloud could feel it; he had a mother who held him dear once too. He knew she was thinking of her boy, her son who she never saw grow into a man, who she never saw work hard for his dreams, becoming a SOLDIER she only knows about through Cloud's shaky recollection.

He felt like being there, occupying their home, was doing Zack's memories a disservice. They asked about Aerith, how she and Zack met, and what their love was like. Cloud couldn't speak of things he didn't understand, of things Zack should've been there to say.

They asked him what his clearest memory of Zack was, his mother ruffling his soft blond spikes, undoubtedly imagining her son's raven spikes beneath her fingertips, his father clutching his shoulder with eyes full of hope. Cloud felt sick. He couldn't tell them what memory was becoming clearer by the day, the one where Cloud's face was buried in Zack's damp first-class uniform, the scent of wet dirt around them as the wastelands lay barren after the fight, the smell of rainwater, sweat, and blood—Zack’s blood on Cloud's face, and those words.

“You'll be my living legacy.”

And here was Zack's legacy, paralyzed before his parents and wanting nothing but to run out the door, to leave Gongaga and never look back. But he stayed rooted in place, for Zack's sake he stayed. And he told them, not what they asked for, not what they wanted to hear, but what they needed to.

Cloud came up with something. He told them the clearest memory he had of Zack was a day where their son borrowed a vehicle from Shinra's lot and took Cloud on a trip to the wastes outside Midgar. It wasn't raining, it was sunny, and there was no battle to be fought, just Zack's terrible music taste as he cranked the radio up louder, driving faster, talking over the noise, his laughs resonant and full of life as he told Cloud he was going to show him how drifting was done. They were just boys, they both had hopes and dreams that intertwined to form a future they were both a part of. That was the version he told Zack's parents, and the smile on his mother's face brought him peace.

So he accepted the homemade brownies Zack's mother gave him to take home to Denzel and Marlene, and the dinner invitation for the next month when he was in Gongaga, and bid them goodbye as he walked out of the house.

#:[#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #zack fair #cloud strife #writing

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zahmaddog · 6 months ago

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Part 1: Making Friends on Pabu

Quick summary: You're new to Pabu and looking for a new start. You meet the Bad Batch under some. unusual circumstances, and Crosshair immediately stands out to you as handsome and someone you can trust. ---

This is my first stab at some fan fiction. It's fluffy AF and probably mostly safe for work? I'll list my "warnings" below as I've seen in other posts. The whole team (except Tech) is in the story, but it's mainly focused on Crosshair. Crosshair x fem!reader | Word count: 3,016ish. Warnings: Alcohol, Flirting, Gun Fire, but it's pretty SFW. I might write more and I'm just letting myself write whatever, so who knows, it could get NSFW later. So don't get hooked on this story if you're underaged. Lmao, but I'm really not that confident in my writing. It was a fun exercise and felt a bit like journalling. I haven't just, written for fun like this since creative writing in high school over a decade ago. I'd like a fresh start on Pabu. Lmao. I hope you all enjoy. I really liked reading the fan fiction I could find from other Clone enthusiasts on here. Ya'll are a cool bunch of people.

The mercenaries were right; Pabu could be the means of a fresh start. You had cut ties with nearly everyone you knew, took your shares of the earned bounties, bought a ship, and then bought a boat.

Out on the water, you sailed until you couldn’t see the island any longer. You cranked up your club music to an ungodly level, poured yourself a drink, and kicked back under the stars.

It doesn’t get anymore remote than this, you thought to yourself. You let your heavy eyes close and you faded into a deep sleep; your body recognized it hadn’t felt this safe in years. You slept through the night and into the late hours of the morning.

—-

“Is all that noise coming from that ship?” Omega looked at Crosshair.

“Uh-huh.” He scowled and squinted his eyes to examine the ship on the morning horizon.

“Well, we’re not going to catch any fish at this rate. They should know not to be so noisy this early… Or ever.” Omega continued. “I guess we can turn the engine back on and see what’s going on with that ship.”

Omega ignited the ship’s engine and steered the bow to the mysterious vessel. The water was smooth in the early hours. The sun reflecting off each wave and rock on the sea. Crosshair enjoyed these early mornings with Omega. Sometimes Wrecker would join, but as he had become a staple in the Pabu fishing crowd, he found himself surrounded with friends easily. Crosshair, still silent and stoic in most circles, often stayed with his family.

“Hey!” Omega called out to the ship. “You’re scaring off all the fish!” She steered her ship parallel and killed the engine. The music’s thumping bass pulsed through the water, shaking their ship.

“This is louder than 79’s,” Crosshair yelled to Omega.

“What? What’s 79’s?” Omega yells back.

“A club!” Crosshair tries to be heard over the booming bass.

“A club, like to hit something with?” Omega was confused. Crosshair just shook his head, not wanting to scream over the music a third time. He looked over into the ship to see you, motionless through the music. He and Omega shared a concerned glance that you were perhaps dead and floating out on the waters of Pabu alone. Omega jumped into your boat, racing over to your side to see if you were alive.

She touches your shoulder, which sends you from your deep sleep into a panic. You grab your gun off the side table out of instinct, but before you can turn back, you hear a blaster fire; then you fade back asleep. —

You awake again, still on your boat. The music had stopped. Your head pulsing with every heartbeat. The world spun; the ship gently rocked back and forth. You clasped your head in your hands as you swung your legs to the side of the beach chair to sit up properly.

“Did you stun me?” You looked at the young blonde stranger on your ship. You felt at ease seeing that only a child had climbed aboard.

“I did.” A voice behind you hissed. You spun around to see a tall, thin, but built man leaning against the rails of your ship.

You raise an eyebrow as you look back and forth between the two invaders. Their eyes, similar in shape and color, you asked the young woman, “Is he your father?”

“Father?” She said back with a confused face. “No, I’m Omega, and this is my brother, Crosshair.”

You look back at the man. Crosshair nodded in your direction to acknowledge his introduction. His eyes, mysterious and dark, studied your figure. You followed the outline of his jaw to his lips, which pursed a toothpick. Crosshair was deeply handsome. You turned your attention back to Omega.

You whispered to her, “Is your brother single?” Omega, turning confused towards you again, “What do you mean is he single?” Omega stammered at a normal volume.

“Shhh!” You put your finger to your lips and hush her softly through a laugh. “Geez, kid. Relentless.”

You look back at Crosshair, who had obviously heard Omega repeat what you asked. His eyes narrowed and he looked at you suspiciously.

“Anyway, I’m sorry to have woken in such a fright. I came out here to be alone.” You rebroke the awkward conversational ice.

“Obviously.” Crosshair rolled his eyes at your remark.

“We’re out here fishing. Your music was really loud, so we came over to ask if you could turn it down.” Omega explained.

“Oh.” You nodded back. “I’m sorry for all the noise. I guess I fell asleep.” “How do you sleep through all of that?” Omega questioned.

“I didn’t think I would drift off to it. I guess I was that tired.” You apologized.

“Well, don’t bother us again.” Crosshair flicked his toothpick in your direction and jumped into he and Omega’s ship.

“Sorry, he’s pretty… severe in nature, as my other brother would say.” Omega whispered in your direction. “Do you live here on Pabu?”

You shrugged and began, “I–” “Omega! Let’s get back to work!” Crosshair called from their ship. “Sorry, gotta complete this morning’s mission.” And with that, Omega ran to the railing and hopped to her ship. “I’ll see you around, right?” Crosshair hit the throttle and they were off. Omega waved goodbye to you and then cast a net out for fishing. You watched the pair accelerate away, leaving you alone. You looked to your chair-side table to see your pistol missing. “Dammit, he took my blaster.”

—---

You docked your ship at the lower levels of Pabu late that afternoon. You had wasted nearly an entire day as the sun set on the ocean once more. You gathered your pack from the ship and jumped from the ship’s bow to the dock.

“We built ramps to walk up the dock, you know.” A long-haired fellow laughed.

“Right, sorry.” You nodded in his direction. “Cool tattoo.”

The man touched his face, as if he had forgotten it was there, “Thanks. The name’s Hunter.” He threw his hand out for you to shake.

You dropped your bag and shook his hand firmly, looking into his dark eyes.

“Huh, you have the same eyes as someone else I met today.”

“Hey! It’s you again!” You heard Omega run down the dock towards you and Hunter.

“Ah, that would be who I met.” You said to Hunter. Omega, with her running start, leaped onto Hunter’s back to be eye-level with you.

“That’s the woman that asked me if Crosshair was single!” Omega announced. Hunter laughed, “Oh, is that right?” With a look of comedic-disbelief, you raised your finger to your lips once more “Shhh!” Omega giggled, “What? I don’t see what the big deal is.” Hunter, picking up your bag and asked “Well, do you have a place to stay tonight?”

Feeling uncomfortable, you take your bag off his shoulder and slide it back on to yours. “Yeah, I have my ship.” You studied Hunter cautiously.

“Well, do you have food for tonight?”

Hunter was kind and genuine. “I have some rations, but are you extending an invitation?”

“Indeed we are.” Hunter smiled softly. You thought about turning them down, but it had been a while since anyone wanted to see you. You were thought to be an introvert because of the solitude you maintained, but rather, your solitude was only from broken friendships and bad deals. “Please?” Omega smiled. You nodded in her direction. “Okay. But only because Crosshair stole my blaster.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, “Of course he did.”

—-

“And this is my brother, Wrecker!” Omega led you into the kitchen area, parading you around like a trophy.

“Hey Kid! And, kid’s friend!” Wrecker howled. Astounded at his size and volume, you took a step back. His whitened eye, connected to visible scar tissue screamed of life experience and horrors. His demeanor juxtaposed his appearance, as his jovial laugh filled the room.

Omega led you to your seat at the table and sat down next to you. “Wrecker! She’s the woman that asked if–” You turned to Omega, jaw-dropped that she was about to embarrass you once again. She met your eyes and changed her sentence halfway through. “Asked if–you were a good cook?” Omega shrugged. “Am I a good cook? Well, I’ve never killed anybody in the kitchen!” Wrecker laughed. “Well, except for that one time–” And he stopped himself. You laughed, “What one time?” Your laugh drifted into an uneasy silence as you looked at his scars again, now realizing it probably wasn’t a joke. Hunter broke the silence, “Well, we’ve seen a lot of action over the years. But I promise you, it’s all over now.”

Wrecker threw a pot of food on the table and with a proud smile announced, “Dinner is served.” “Where’s Crosshair?” Omega asked Hunter. “I–I don’t know. I let him know we had company.”

“He’s probably out watching the sun set again.” Omega reached for the serving spoon. “Uh, Omega, let the guest serve herself first.” Hunter motioned towards you to take the spoon. “Right, I’m the one to check if it’s poisoned.” You replied back, halfway joking. Wrecker shot a smile your way, “I promise my food has never killed anyone.” He had that similar genuine kindness that Hunter expressed. You reached for the serving spoon and dished up.

“So, what’s your story? Or, I guess, what’s even your name?” Hunter taking the serving spoon says. “Right, uh.” You give them your first name and paused for a moment. Your fears quelled in your gut as it hadn’t been easy to tell your story lately. “I’m from–I was, well, I’m starting over here on Pabu.”

“We are too!” Omega beamed.

“What do you like to do?” Hunter asked.

It was such an easy question, but you went blank. “I–I guess I’m figuring that out again too.”

“Hmm.” Hunter studied your face. “You look like you’ve been through a lot.”

“I get a similar feeling your family has too.” “Was it the Empire?” Omega touched your arm. The sincerity of experience in her voice pulled at your heart. You realized then they were all survivors, fleeing the Empire. “In a way, but no.” You responded back. “I was involved in a close-knit group, but some of us had a different idea of how to run things. I cut my losses and wrapped up what ends I could to escape.” You stirred the food around your dish, “I wouldn’t expect anyone to understand.” “We might understand better than you’d think,” a familiar voice hissed from the door.

“Glad to see you back, Crosshair.” Omega jumped up and pulled out a chair for her brother. In a single protective motion, he sat in the chair and moved Omega to stand behind him. “I see you didn’t follow my instructions to leave us alone.” Crosshair leaned over the table to invade your space. You felt the tension of the room ignite as he stared into your eyes, hoping to intimidate you.

“Crosshair!” Hunter interjected. You relaxed and leaned back in your chair, proving Crosshair’s intimidation tactic didn’t work. “Give me back my pistol and I’ll be on my way,” you replied. Wrecker groaned, “Aw, but you just got here!” Crosshair leaned towards Wrecker, “But you don’t know what she is!”

Omega’s face drained into a look of concern, “What do you mean, ‘what she is?’ ” Crosshair took his toothpick from his mouth and emphasized his words, “She’s a bounty hunter.” Omega, concerned glances from Crosshair back to you. Hunter and Wrecker tense up a little. You didn’t react well. Grabbing a pathetic dinner knife, you stand up from the table in a combative position. Knocking drinks from the table, Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair all pull weapons from their belts, and the stand-off begins.

You and the men wait for someone to move first. Their six eyes, or well, five eyes, melted your skin. Omega broke the silence. “Can you stop with that? Crosshair, how do you even know she’s a bounty hunter?” Omega says as she lowers Hunter’s knife for him.

“Tech’s records.” Crosshair sighed. “She matches a description of a bounty hunter that engaged with the Separatists near the end of the war. Then I cross-referenced with Echo’s files which revealed her deals with the Empire.”

Hunter looks at you, “Well, is that true?” “Would it matter if it was true?” Your voice broke. “Yes!” All three harmonized. “Look, I’m not a bounty hunter anymore.” You started, then dropped your guard completely. “Like I said, I’m here for a fresh start.” You put down the dinner knife and met their gaze once more. They were still ready to jump on you.

“And I’m not involved with the Empire any longer,” you insisted.

Omega motioned Wrecker and Crosshair to lower their weapons. They relaxed a little, but kept their eyes focused on your movements. You nodded in Omega’s direction in gratitude and broke the silence again, “Thanks for the dinner invite, but maybe this won’t work out.” In a moment of trust, you turned your back to the family and walked out of the home.

You started towards the space port.

—- You unlocked the door to your ship as you heard someone call your name. You stopped and turned. Crosshair made a small effort to wave hello as he walked closer to you.

You put your bag in your ship and locked the door again. You walked down the ramp to meet Crosshair. His lips opened slightly, as if he were to begin a sentence, but instead rubbed his forehead. You waited in silence with your arms crossed. “Here.” He reached out with your pistol in hand. You met his reach and he pressed the pistol into your palm. For a stoic man, his brow and eyes communicated a lot. He glanced up at you and back to the ground. “Thanks.” You placed the blaster back in its holster.

“We, or I, don’t trust very easily.” He revealed. “Omega, Wrecker… And Hunter, they’re all I have left.” He motioned towards your weapon, “So, don’t point that at my family again.” “I’m sorry.” You looked to the side, “You know, I don’t trust anyone a whole lot either. I mean, how could I?”

He didn’t even look to acknowledge the comment. He really wasn’t much of a conversationalist.

You looked up from the ground again and started in a monotone, “What did you read in my file?”

Crosshair stood a little more upright and engaged back with you, “You have a reckless reputation... And worked bounty jobs for the Empire.”

“I’ve made mistakes,” you corrected, then calmly stated, “But I couldn’t keep living like that.”

Crosshair took a deep breath and focused his attention to the ocean.

“I too have made mistakes.” Crosshair nearly whispered as he took a step away from you and placed his right hand into his left. “Reckless mistakes.”

You looked closer, only to realize his right hand was mechanical. Crosshair turned to face you again. You studied the scar on his temple and his face tattoo.

“I should get back.” He turned, but you reached out and touched his shoulder.

You started, “Look, I was wondering, if —“

Crosshair cut you off “If I’m single?”

You felt the corners of your lips creep up into a small smile and you let your hand slide down his arm.

“No, well, that too, but I was wondering if you were thirsty?”

Crosshair raised an eyebrow.

“Do you want to come aboard my ship for a drink?” You motioned towards your ship.

“Why do you have an interest in me? What trick are you playing?” He scowled.

“No tricks,” you promised. “You… intrigue me. And somehow, I feel I can trust you.”

He stood there in silence, evaluating his options. Crosshair knew he could just go home, listen to Omega talk about her dreams, and have a peaceful evening overlooking Pabu from his bedroom balcony. Or, he could take this stranger up on her offer and escape being “Crosshair” for a moment. He realized it would be nice to talk to someone that didn’t know his past.

“One drink.” He insisted.

You gave him a soft smile and remotely opened the door to your ship.

—-

You and Crosshair were three drinks in when he turned to you and realized time had slipped by faster than expected.

“Omega is going to tease me relentlessly for the next week.” Crosshair chuckled and swirled his drink.

“What else are little sisters for?” You smiled back.

Crosshair continued to chuckle for a moment, thinking of Omega and how close they’ve grown. As he sat next to you in your ship’s booth, he turned to face you.

“Do you have siblings?” Crosshair inquired.

“I did, yes.” You begin to tap the table with your fingers. His eyes bore into your soul.

“Did?” Crosshair muttered.

“I believe they’re all still alive, but I expect I’ll never see them again. Well, they don’t want to see me again.” You shrugged.

Crosshair looked intrigued.

You continued, “I grew up in a rather… well, orthodox society. Everything was laid out for me in life: education, code of conduct, dress standards, diet, who I’d marry, and more. When I left, it was required by the society that my family no longer contact me.”

Crosshair listened intently. The unexpected attention made you feel at ease.

“How old were you, when you left?” Crosshair questioned.

“Old enough to turn to bounty hunting for quick money.” You shrugged. “Desperation will make you do some stupid things.”

“That it does,” Crosshair agreed.

You leaned forward slightly and raised your hand to Crosshair’s cheek, letting your thumb trace the outline of his face tattoo.

“Is this out of desperation? Your… fascination with me?” He took your hand from his face and held it between you and him.

“You didn’t see me stick around to see if Hunter was single.” You laughed.

His face remained unchanged.

So you continued your joke, “And we both know there’s no way Wrecker is single.”

That line earned you a small smile from him.

You took his hand in yours, tracing his fingers.

“No, I don’t think it’s out of desperation.” You looked up into his eyes, “Do you trust me?”

Crosshair clasped his hand around yours.

“Oddly enough, I do.”

—

Part 2: The Warning

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb star wars #tbb omega #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #the bad batch fanfiction

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fr3sh-tragedies · 1 year ago

Text

Apologize

[Until Dawn] Samantha Giddings x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.04k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: An argument, but nothing really specific

[A/N]: This one's really short compared to the others, but it's because that's what my intention was. I didn't want to stress out over this one, so I gave myself a really low goal of 2k words. It was fun to write this. Hope you'll enjoy. Not sure who I'll write for next. At the moment, I only have six more characters I want to write for.

Enjoy!

It was extremely hard for Sam to get angry at someone, let alone get into an actual argument. She tended to be the level-headed one in her friend group, never one to willingly indulge in drama. Very rarely did she raise her voice in a non-joking manner, so when she did, the people around her she was close to got very uncomfortable. Not necessarily because she was threatening, but because it was so unlike her. Fortunately, her girlfriend was the same way. The two of them hardly ever got into an argument that wasn’t playful.

So when one broke out one night, both of them grew uncomfortable. They got defensive, with Sam trying to steer the conversation in another direction, and [Y/N] trying to just agree to disagree. Neither one of them really remembered how the argument started, but they both knew it wasn’t going anywhere.

Another thing that was uncommon for the two women was for them to say something hateful toward anyone, even if they felt threatened. During the entirety of their relationship, which was running strong for over three years, no one in their shared friend group had ever witnessed them fight with each other. Out of all of them, she and [Y/N] were usually the ones who stayed calm and tried to compromise and keep the peace. And when anyone needed to talk something through with a trusted friend, she and [Y/N] were the go-tos.

Somewhere in the middle of the argument, one of them had slightly raised their voice, which in turn prompted the other to do the same. This continued until they were almost yelling at each other, something they had never done to one another. It was causing a great deal of stress on them both. They couldn’t seem to find a way to fix whatever had begun the whole ordeal.

As they grew louder, Sam shouted something of ill-intent toward [Y/N] in the heat of the moment, wanting to just be done with the argument. In response, [Y/N] threw back a similarly hateful retort, claiming she wished they had never started dating. She didn’t mean to say it–neither of them meant to say any of it–it all just spilled out before they could stop it.

Sam froze at her words, grimacing as she fought back the tears pricking her eyes. She sniffled and took a breath to prevent her voice from breaking.

“If that’s how you feel, then…”

She paused, trying to calm herself down and think things through. After a moment, she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

“I’ll give you some space. We both need to calm down before we even try to talk this through.”

[Y/N] huffed. Usually, she’d agree without hesitation. Because of her hurt feelings, however, she was hesitant to do so. Instead, she turned on her heel and stormed into the kitchen, then the pantry. There, she grabbed her car keys and left through the front door, passing Sam on her way out. She slammed the door behind her, and she instantly regretted doing so, but she couldn’t take it back. Not once in her relationship with Sam had an argument gotten this bad. The two of them had never said dating was a mistake, nor had they thrown nasty comments at each other out of frustration.

Sam didn’t know how to deal with the situation quite yet, and neither did [Y/N]. Silently, [Y/N] agreed with Sam about giving each other space before working things out.

She hopped into her car and switched the engine on, pulling out of the driveway and speeding down the road. Once she came to a red light, she popped a CD in and cranked the music up, wanting to drown out her hateful thoughts.

As she drove off to who knows where, Sam remained in the living room of their shared home. She plopped herself back down onto the sofa cushions and sighed, burying her face in her hands as she replayed the entire conversation over and over again in her mind. Each time she recalled the words she spoke, or rather hollered, she flinched, wanting nothing more than to take them back.

There was no excuse for what she said. She didn’t even really remember why things had gotten so aggressive.

As she sat there, counting the hours while she waited for [Y/N] to come home, her guilt began to grow even further. She promised herself she’d sit down and talk things out once they were together again.

Whenever that may be.

She should’ve stopped [Y/N] from leaving.

She should’ve asked her to sit down with her, or at least stay home.

She should’ve kept her cool and ended the argument before it began.

And all the while, as her guilt ate away at her conscience, [Y/N] was battling with her own mind nearly halfway across town.

How could she have said something so cruel? Sam didn’t deserve that at all. She had no right to be that crude towards her. She had been trying to change the subject, but [Y/N], for some reason she couldn’t figure out, refused to give in. Instead, she wanted to just “agree to disagree,” even though she knew that wouldn’t have ended very well. She and Sam were both very stubborn about their personal beliefs, meaning they’d struggle with that concept.

She knew that, and yet she continued to press on the matter.

She knew that, and yet she still blurted out that the relationship was a mistake.

She knew that, and yet she still stormed out of the house like a child.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, [Y/N] turned the car around and started her journey back to the house. One way or another, she’d find a way to work things out with Sam, even if it took all night.

By the time she made it back, it was well past midnight. Had she not known Sam well enough, she’d assume the blonde would be tucked away under the covers in their shared bed, sound asleep. However, she had known her all her life. She knew her thoughts, tendencies, insecurities, everything. And Sam was the same–they knew each other inside and out, which is what usually prevented these things from happening.

It was no surprise to [Y/N] when she unlocked the door and pushed it open to reveal Sam still sitting there on the couch. She glanced up from her spot on the cushions, a look of pure relief washing over her features. The blonde stood, stepping over to stand in front of [Y/N] once the door was shut and locked behind her. “Thank god you’re okay,” Sam whispered, lifting her hands to cup the smaller girl’s face and press their foreheads together. [Y/N] made no move to lean away from her touch, but rather leaned into her hands.

Her eyes shut softly when her head made contact with Sam’s, a small sigh of solace slipping past her lips. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I worried you.” The blonde smiled and hummed, letting her hands slide down [Y/N]’s arms to gently take hold of her hands. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

They stayed there for a moment, standing together under the dim light above the entryway to the den. Finally, Sam led her over to the couch and sat her down, joining her immediately after.

“I’m just gonna get right to the point. I’m really sorry I said what I did. I had no right to talk about you like that. I’m sorry, I really am,” Sam started, squeezing her hands in her own.

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry too,” [Y/N] replied just as quietly. “The fact I said our relationship was a mistake was disgusting. I didn’t mean a word of what I said, I swear. I just…I was hurt, and panicking, and I just wanted to say something to defend myself in the moment. I shouldn’t have said that though.”

Sam grinned, her thumb caressing the back of [Y/N]’s hand soothingly before bringing it up to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I forgive you,” she mumbled against her skin. “Could we both promise not to do that again though? I think that’s the most stress I’ve ever felt in our entire relationship.” [Y/N] chuckled at her words, bringing another genuine smile to her lips. “Yeah, I’d love to make that promise. Nearly cried my whole way home because I felt so bad about what happened.”

With a featherlike touch, Sam pulled [Y/N] into a hug, tucking her face against the crook of her neck and relaxing at the familiar scent of the girl’s shampoo and perfume. Her eyes fluttered shut, a silent sigh slipping through her lips, still perked up in a smile.

“I love you so much,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” came [Y/N]’s reply.

A moment passed, one far more comfortable than the situation from a few hours prior, and the two held onto each other as they swayed side to side. Finally, much to her embarrassment, a low rumble sounded from [Y/N]’s stomach, drawing both of their attention away. Sam leaned back and laughed gently. “Should we order something?” She questioned, already reaching for her phone laying face down on the coffee table.

[Y/N] nodded, laughing along with her. “Yeah. I was too worried during the entire drive to worry about eating, so…I guess it’s better late than never, right?” Sam smirked and nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. I’m in the same boat anyway. What sounds good? Not sure what’s open, but I’m sure we can find something good.”

[Y/N] beamed up at her, already feeling the previously thick tension dissolving at a rapid pace.

Sam picked up her phone after [Y/N] mentioned a few possible choices, clicking onto Google and scrolling through the open restaurants to find something that would satisfy both of their appetites. Eventually, they settled on something fairly cheap nearby, ordering said meal and setting everything up while they waited.

While [Y/N] stayed downstairs to pick something to watch on the TV, as well as gathering nearby blankets, Sam headed upstairs to their spare closet and picked out a few of the fluffiest pillows and blankets she could find. She trailed back downstairs, and the two of them bundled up together underneath their small fort of comfort. They were able to watch a decent amount of what [Y/N] had chosen to play on the screen before their order arrived.

Reluctantly, Sam left the comfort of all of the plush covers and pillows, already missing the warmth of [Y/N] by the time she made it to the door to pay the driver and take the order. Once everything was settled with the deliverer, Sam sauntered back over to the couch. She handed [Y/N] her order, including her drink, then managed to wriggle her way back into her previous spot before diving into her own dish.

As the two downed their food and rinsed it down with their drinks, they leaned further and further against each other. By the time they finished their meal and put the plastic containers and cutlery aside, [Y/N] was resting on top of Sam, both of them still buried underneath layers of their collection of blankets. Her head ended up planting itself atop the blonde’s chest, allowing her to listen to her heartbeat with ease.

Soft, delicate fingers raked their way through [Y/N]’s locks before a small kiss was pressed to her head. She glanced up curiously, only to find Sam beaming back down at her with a look of pure admiration. Her smile was returned just as warmly.

A moment or so passed before [Y/N] turned her head back to face the screen again. Her eyes began to flutter shut as Sam continued to stroke her hair. She fought to keep herself awake, but finally gave in when Sam mumbled a soft, “I love you,” and pressed another kiss to her head, lulling her deeper into slumber with ease.

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blackgirlwhowrites2k23 · 1 year ago

Note

Heya! Can I pleaseee get a Balde one where he comes to visit you unexpectedly in your uni dorm or flat and you have to try your best to hide him 🥲🫶

Summary: “When I dialed 6-1-1, Repair Service

She said, "Hello, may I help you please?"

I told her something must be wrong with my phone

'Cause my baby wouldn't hang up on me”

You’ve been caught up with preparations for your exams and you’ve put your phone on DND. You told your parents but you forgot to tell a certain someone.

A/N: Thank you for the requests! More Balde is on the way !!! This one's also about 2,300 words which is more than I've written for the others so enjoy!

It was nearing midnight and your dorm room was shrouded in the dim glow of a desk lamp. The air was a mix of the vanilla-scented candle you'd lit (because who said studying couldn't have a hint of vanilla-scented goodness?), the heavy weight of late-night cramming that threatened to make you fall asleep, and the unmistakable anxiety that hung thick around these times. You were buried in textbooks and notes, fully immersed in the world of exam preparation; it was like a battlefield, and each page you turned was a strategic move. Your desk was a war room, scattered with the casualties of highlighters and sticky notes. With a crucial test looming on the horizon, you had put your phone on "Do Not Disturb" mode all day in hopes of getting all your work done and fully being prepared for your upcoming finals. With your notifications silenced, the only sounds that reverberated through your dorm were the rustling of papers and the occasionally frustrated sigh that came from the depths of your soul and empty stomach.

You had made sure to inform your parents about your temporary digital escape, not wanting them to worry and assume something bad had happened–knowing them. Thoughts of a time when they'd practically filed a missing person report because you forgot to text back for a few hours came to the surface causing a soft smile to grace your features. You were glad you had people who worried about you. Speaking of people who worried about you, you had kinda forgotten to clue in a certain someone—Alejandro, your boyfriend. With a big game on the horizon for the star football player, the anticipation was probably cranking up his stress levels so you decided it best to let him be fully focused anyway. He’ll forgive you. You chuckled at the mental image of him panicking after receiving a missing person report from your parents after you two had spent the whole day together laughing and catching up.

As the clock ticked past midnight, you were in the trenches; engrossed in your notes, oblivious to the multiple missed calls and messages from Alejandro.

Outside your door, there was a soft melody that was almost like a distant echo, barely audible at first but gradually growing louder with each passing second. The muffled thumping of heavy bass reached your ears, accompanied by a tantalizing melody that teased the edges of your memory. You definitely knew the song, but it was so muffled that you couldn’t quite catch the words. It was the kind of tune that, under normal circumstances, would have lured you out to join the invisible party or belt out whatever lyrics were being played in the hallway.

However, irritation crawled under your skin as the music continued to infiltrate your room. At first, you tried to brush it off, but the irritation morphed into a gnawing frustration, and you felt an almost growing urge to do something about it. The fantasy of storming out into the hallway to confront the culprit played out in your mind. You imagined yourself going out there and asking if they were “out of their damn mind” and to “turn that noise down” or maybe taking the polite route and requesting to turn it down, which would be a remarkable level of self-control. Or maybe doing a little bit of both.

With a sigh and a reluctant shake of your head, you decided that enough was enough. It was time to restore the peace. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the confrontation ahead. Whether through a polite request or a no-nonsense intervention, you were not going to fail this test because you were too busy turning up to your dorm neighbor’s music.

You swung the door open, ready to give a piece of your mind, only to be met with the sight of Alejandro, a mischievous grin on his face, holding a portable speaker playing the soulful tune. Confusion flickered across your face, but before you could react, he grabbed your hand, pulled you into the hallway, and began to dance and sing.

"What in the world, Alej!? Boy, do you mind explaining why you're playing music outside my door at this ungodly hour?" you asked in a sort of hushed shout as a mix of irritation and amusement was in your tone as you crossed your hands across your frame.

He grabbed your hands again and twirled you in a spontaneous dance move, still singing, "Mr. Telephone Man, there's something wrong with my line. When I dial my baby's number, I get a click every time!"

You couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected serenade, even as your irritation lingered. "Seriously, though, what are you doing here?"

He flashed you a playful smile and continued to sing, "Mr. Telephone Man, there's something wrong with my line. When I dial my baby's number, I get a click every time!"

Your confusion deepened, and you shot him a bemused look. "Be forreal, is this some kind of weird initiation prank or...?"

With a twirl and a flourish, he sang the next line, "When I dialed 6-1-1, Repair Service

She said, "Hello, may I help you please?"

I told her something must be wrong with my phone

'Cause my baby wouldn't hang up on me!"

It finally clicks. You couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or amused. "Okay, wow. You are petty."

He finally paused his impromptu performance, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just thought I'd drop by since my baby doesn’t know how to answer the phone. I thought I’d add a little musical magic to your study night and bless you with my singing skills. You know, since I’m you’re good luck charm."

“I thought I was your good luck charm,” you raised an eyebrow, caught between a sly smirk and a reluctant smile. " And I thought you had a match coming up, so I thought I’d let you focus. I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“We’re each other’s lucky charms.” He chuckled before he placed both his arms firmly on your shoulders as his face got serious, "And you’re never a bother. Don’t let me hear you say that again or you’ll hurt my feelings, man."

You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief as you waved him off. "You could've just knocked, you know."

"But where's the fun in that?" he replied, starting to dance again. "Mr. Telephone Man, there's something wrong with my line..."

You sighed, unable to suppress a smile. "Alright, fine. You win. But let’s bring this inside. If anyone sees you making all this noise they’ll be on my head. People are trying to study."

With that, he pulled you into your dorm, the catchy tune of "Mr. Telephone Man" playing lightly and serving as a great backdrop. It was unexpected, ridiculous, and utterly Alejandro. You couldn't deny the warmth spreading through you as you joined him in the spontaneous dance, grateful for the interruption. Your initial annoyance melted away into laughter as he picked you up and twirled you around, still belting out the lyrics with an endearing off-key charm. The unexpected serenade had you in stitches, and you couldn't help but marvel at the lengths he went to surprise you.

“Oh, wait. I almost forgot.”

He put you down and darted back outside. You stood there, a mix of emotions swirling within, wondering if he was leaving. However, to your surprise, he returned moments later, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift basket filled with snacks, comfort food, and a selection of your favorite movies.

As you peered into the gift basket, a grin spread across your face. "What's all this, babe?"

He chuckled, reaching for a snack. "Just a little something to make sure you're fueled up and relaxed for your big day. I’m also hungry though so some of these are for now."

You picked up a kisses chocolate bar and raised an eyebrow at the note attached. "Kisses for good luck?" you read aloud, a playful groan escaping your lips. "Alejandro, you're so corny."

He grinned, teasingly nudging you. "You secretly love my corniness."

You bit back a smile, holding up a Tootsie Roll with a note that read, "You'll do great, toots." "This is quite literally the corniest thing ever," you teased, groaning in affection.

He laughed, "Admit it, you love it."

You attempted to deny it with a nonchalant shrug, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. "Maybe a little."

His eyes twinkled with amusement. "That smile says otherwise."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't hide the affection in your gaze. "Okay, fine. Maybe a lot."

He leaned in, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. "That's what I thought."

The gesture left you speechless, and your eyes glistened with tears of joy. Alejandro noticed your tears and immediately grew concerned, reaching out to wipe them away. As you explained the mix of emotions that overwhelmed you, he responded with a snort, teasingly flicking your forehead and calling you a crybaby.

The music still lightly played from the speaker, and just when you thought the night couldn't get any crazier, there was a knock on the door. Your eyes quickly went over to your digital clock that read 1:30 am. Shit. A whole 30 minutes since visitation hours ended. Panic flashed across both your faces as you hastily tried to hide Alejandro. His attempts at concealment were comical at best—behind curtains, under blankets, and even suggesting he'd hide behind the door. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his antics.

"Hurry up, Balde! Behind the door? Seriously?" you whispered, trying to keep your voice low while conveying the urgency of the situation.

He shot you a sheepish grin, "Hey, it could work!"

You rolled your eyes, "Not a chance. Get in the closet!"

The knock persisted, and you shot a quick look at Alejandro. With a dramatic flourish, he threw himself into the closet, making you cringe at the potential noise. You shushed him with wide eyes, "Quiet! We're going to get caught."

He hushed back with an exaggerated whisper, "I'm Miles Morales, silent and stealthy."

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle. "More like Alejandro Balde. Loud as hell and clumsy. Just stay quiet!"

As you tried to rearrange the room to look somewhat normal, Alejandro couldn't resist making a joke, "If they ask, you’re going to try out for the cheer team and I was helping you practice."

You shot him a glare and pressed a hand to your lips. He returned the gesture as you closed the closet door.

The knock on the door grew more insistent, and you quickly continued to shuffle around, trying to make everything look as normal as possible. You shot one last glance at the closet, silently praying that Alejandro could keep quiet.

You quickly adjusted yourself, doing your best to look casual as you opened the door. The RA, a stern-looking figure with a perpetual fake customer service smile, squinted suspiciously.

"Everything okay in here?"

“Hey, girl. Hey.” Real smooth. You put on your best innocent smile, "Yeah, just studying and things of that nature."

She raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room. Her eyebrows lift in appreciation as she hears the music. "Ooh, I love this song. But, don’t keep the music up too loud it’s late."

You nodded, "Of course."

She squinted, looking at the closet. Panic bubbled up inside you as she took a step closer, and you desperately tried to divert her attention.

"So, how's your night going, girlll? Any exciting plans?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from the closet.

She tilted her head, seemingly amused, "Just making my rounds, you know. Checking up on everyone. I caught some people trying to sneak people in past visitation hours so I had to do a sweep of the floor."

Your neck began to get hot as you played along. “Oh wow, who would do something like that.”

You tried to divert her attention, but she wasn't easily swayed. With a raised eyebrow, she approached the closet, and your heart raced. As she opened the door, you closed your eyes, readying yourself for an explanation.

To your surprise, she closed the door without a word, patting you on the shoulder and bidding you goodnight. Bewilderment washed over you as you rushed over into the closet, only to find it empty. You furrowed your brow in confusion, searching around.

“You need help finding something, ma’am.”

You turned to him, a mix of relief and confusion on your face. "How did you...?"

He winked, his voice barely above a whisper, "I can turn invisible, remember?"

You chuckled softly, rolling your eyes. "You're something else, Alejandro."

He laughed, "Well, we didn't get caught, did we? Now, I can think of something else we can be doing..."

You giggled but waved to him, "Uh Uh, none of that. These walls are super thin."

He pouted, "You're no fun."

You shot him a playful glare, "Says the guy who tried to hide behind the door."

He chuckled, "Fair point. But you have to admit, I added a bit of excitement to your study night."

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Yeah, yeah, Mr. Telephone Man. Let's just hope we don't get another surprise visit."

You spent the rest of the night watching movies, eating snacks, having fun, and cozying up next to someone you knew would always worry about you when you needed him to.

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