#library of ashes fic

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Library of Ashes fic moodboard

Jason takes an interest in the family business (Gotham's oldest library) when he stumbles upon a secret collection of journals, photo albums, and a book written by his mother.

[sleepyhoons]

i love cute fics 😔😔😔 GWJFJVISOS he's so adorable please kill me

genre fluff , established relationship , timestamp , beomgyu x fem!reader   cw none   wc 364   request yes    note i love soft moments like this :( the kind of love i need   net @kstrucknet

23:41 . . . Beomgyu’s messy hair covered his forehead and eyes, but you could still feel his gaze on you.

His body relaxed completely, head resting on his arm outstretched on the table, fingers in your hold. You were laser-focused on his hands, a small nail polish applicator in your right hand applying another thin layer across the nail on his thumb. Your boyfriend always let you paint his nails in the evenings before bed, even if he had to remove it a few days later for work. It was more about the moment than the end result. He would keep whatever you painted on, even if you claimed you messed up, or the design wasn’t as pretty as you wanted. On days he wasn’t filming, he liked the little reminder of you, even if it was only expressed through a shiny black polish. 

Your careful fingers rubbed a spot where the polish had gotten on his finger before moving to the next nail. You had already completed the first two coats of black on his right hand, and Beomgyu was nearly falling asleep already. He couldn’t really help it when your touch was so soothing. He had to keep completely still for you anyway, and drowsiness set in quickly whenever that happened.

“I’m gonna add stars to your ring fingers,” you announced as you finished painting his left pinky finger. He hummed in acknowledgement. You had been practicing your stars recently on your own hands. Beomgyu remembered noting the pastel star design of your nails last week. They were a bit blob-like as you were still struggling a bit with the smallest detail brush, but you were quickly improving. He was more than willing to be your practice subject.

“Do you want white or silver stars?”

He lifted his head at your question as you held out two different bottles of polish. Beomgyu nudged the white one silently, smiling when you picked up his hand again. Your fingers tapped thoughtfully against his knuckles as you rummaged for the right nail art brush. He let his head fall again, eyes blinking shut. You’d have to wake him up once your masterpiece was finished.

txt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions,, @cham3li,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @yudaies,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @stantxtforabetterlife,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hyukabean,, @nicholasluvbot,, @i03jae,, @lilbrorufr,, @tmrwsuns,, @sea-moon-star,, @hanwoolvhs

[kiemiu]

voice notes your boyfriend matt leaves you pt.2 | ( fem!reader ) fluff + soft hours. established relationship drabble wc 402 (library) + (request)

one. i hope you have a good time on your girls trip..please, don't get kidnapped. i don't know what i'll do if fucking— i don't know, mafia boss zayn malik took you hostage. you might like it there, and-and i can't have you getting kidnapped by 1D in a foreign country! or whatever the hell happens in those fics.. i mean, who'd watch gravity falls with me?

two. schedules all cleared up for the rest of the day, (relieved sigh) i can't wait to come home to you. i miss you even though i've been gone for 5 hours at most. (quiet realization) i might have some sort of separation anxiety with you..

three. (in that baby voice) birthday! birthday! it's your birthday! happy birthday, yay!

four. mr. wrinkleton misses you. i think you should come over, to..cheer him up and stuff.

five. i'm not letting you put off the new clairo album any longer, i'm coming over and we'll listen to it together so i can see your reaction live, and yes, i'll stop by taco bell for you so, please, don't fill up on fruit snacks.

six. facetime date today?..i know you're not feeling well, but i—i really miss talking to you, and i've probably looked through our joint photo album like 6 times today...just wanna see my girl.

seven. "add up my looooove, oOoOoOOo, add up my loooove, honey was it enouuuGgghh? is it ever enouuu-" don't i sound just like clairo? she should get me on her next album.

eight. new psychological horror movie just came out, and i know you're into that spooky shit so i bought it on amazon prime. but it's on my account, soooo, you'll have to come over. (chris in the background: and bring pepsi!) and chris says bring pepsi, please.

nine. you left just before the rain started to pour down really hard...i hope you didn't get caught in it. and if so, stay safe and call if you need anything. if ya' need me to, i'll come get you myself and drive you back here until it calms down.

ten. i know you're most-likely taking your midday nap right now but—(sniffle) i don't know, i'm just happy to have you. you—uhm, you really mean a lot to me, so, please, don't go anywhere anytime soon. i–i don't know what i'd do with myself.

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @madifilipowiczslvt @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash @sturnina @lovetaylorrussellgrr @nervoussagittarius @sacaydia @chrissturnsss @hearts4werka @oliviagirlsworld @koilaniazul @starsforu @sturn777

[loganficsonly]

smitten kitten

logan howlett x gn!reader, 2.7k SUMMARY: they say hanging out with a cat has health benefits—calms you down, slows your heart rate... but he's been experiencing the opposite. or maybe it's because you're in the picture. or, you and logan take care of a stray kitten together. WARNINGS/TAGS: i did not fucking edit this, thinking of x1/2 logan, no anatomical descriptions for reader, reader is a mutant with unspecified powers, reader loves cats obviously, slight grumpy x sunshine, logan has a thing for scents, FLUFF!!!, suggestive: minors do not interact!, domestic situations, mutual yearning but both are oblivious?, friends to lovers, i know nothing about cat maintenance AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my native language. my first logan fic! might be ooc but fuck it let him be soft!!!

He didn't think that this is how he gets to see you on your hands and knees in front of him.

The weather outside is nice and crisp, and he just felt like taking a smoke break. A quick fifteen minutes till his cigar turns to mostly ash before he has to take care of another History class. The breeze lured him outside, just by the backyard near the courts.

Perfect temperature. No kids running around—yet. All in all, a beautiful day.

He was about to light his vice when he saw you a few feet away, on all fours, fussing over something near the rose bushes. You don't seem to care about the way your pants and palms make contact with the dirt below.

An eyebrow raised. His thoughts are a mix of bemusement and... excitement, let’s call it.

When you were first introduced to him six months ago, having returned from a sabbatical that took you away from the institute, he remembered thinking that you’re going to get him into some deep shit if he’s not careful. Maybe it was the way you so easily addressed him. Offered a polite hello, an extended hand, and your name.

A real pretty name. As pretty as your fucking face.

Suddenly the what-ifs with Jean didn’t matter anymore. The magnet pull he feels around you is different than with the redhead, who he thinks he’s attracted to partly because she’s not actually available. A forbidden fruit.

With you, though...

He’s been around for too long to not be aware of the stuff swirling inside his ribcage whenever he sees you. The way his heart clenches ever so slightly when you greet him with a smile. When he sees you reading in the library, sunlight bathing one side of your face as you sit next to a window. When he trains with you, capturing your wrists to pin you down on the mat, forcing you to yield—the few sacred moments he’s allowed to put his hands on you.

Since you arrived, you and him have gotten along quite well with each other. Some would say you quickly became friends beyond your team-bound relations.

But Jesus, the things he thinks about late at night aren’t exactly friend thoughts.

He knows you could get him in trouble. Could hurt him if he lets you, inflict a kind of wound that he can’t regenerate from. The kind that stays. His survival up until now would not have been possible with a bleeding heart, no matter how tempting it is to fantasize about you being his every now and then—every night, more like.

So he swallows, shoves a hand in his pocket, and pretends to act normal. Even if your position is seriously testing his mental fortitude right now.

“What are you up to?”

You look over your shoulder behind you, still on all fours, surprised.

“Logan,” you sigh, neck craned in a weird position before you decide to focus on what's in front of you. “Come here. Slowly, would you?”

He can’t say no to you, but you don’t need to know that, so he silently walks over, eyebrows knitted as the grass beneath his boots crunches softly. Finally he sees it.

A grey tabby.

He blinks, looking down at it. It’s really small. The creature is tucked under a rose bush, looking at you and now him slightly warily. Though it looks reasonably trepidatious, there’s a hint of curiosity in the way its tail curls.

“I heard meowing while taking a walk,” you say, looking back at him with a smile. “Found this little thing.”

“What’s a kitten doing out here?” He huffs. Where they are in Westchester is nowhere near the usual stray cat grounds.

“I don’t know. I don’t see a mother, either,” you reply.

“So you’ve just been bent over here looking at it?”

You shoot him a chiding glare. “I’ve been meaning to get it out of there, but I didn’t want it to bolt.”

“Get it out and do what, exactly?” He stuffs the cigar he meant to light back into his jacket pocket. It’s clear he won’t have any time to smoke.

“Feed it, at least.” 

You smile when you see Logan now hunched over the bush, keeping an eye on the kitten while you rush back to your room to get a cat treat. “Of course you’d have one,” he murmured before you told him to stay put and watch the little thing.

After a few months of getting to know him, you conclude that the man is like one of those filled bonbon treats. Hard shell, but once you bite through it, sweetness oozes from the inside. You’re convinced he’s the same, but instead of being encased in wafer and tempered Belgian chocolate, he’s caged in layers of adamantium bone.

The fact that he actually waited for you and watched the cat like you asked convinces you even more.

“Got it,” you announce, showing him the puree stick. “The good stuff.”

He allows himself a small smile, glancing at the packaging that says ‘tuna flavored’. If anyone would splurge on treats for strays, it would be you.

You slowly move next to him, sitting cross-legged on the ground as he towers over you on your left while you tear the treat open. Instantly the kitten reacts, four little legs practically hobbling over to your seated form as it meows incessantly. You laugh.

Sounds so pretty, he thinks.

When the kitten eagerly enters the space between your thighs, pawing at your hand, you lower the treat against its mouth. “Someone’s hungry,” cooing as your fingers stroke down its little body while it laps up the puree.

Logan sits down next to you, watching you quietly. He listens to the soft whispers you’re uttering, as if they’re only meant for the creature’s ears. Eyes fixed on the way your fingers slowly run up and down its furry spine.

“Good kitty.”

“That taste good?”

“You're so small, baby.”

He’s grateful that he’s the one with heightened senses for mutant abilities. If you were, you’d think he’s having a heart attack right now, with how fast the cursed thing is beating.

Cute. Too fucking cute.

“You like cats?” You ask, turning to look at him.

He lets out a non-committal grunt. You smile, taking that as a yes.

Come to think of it, he acts a little bit like one, too. A spicy stray that takes a while to socialize, but is sweet after some time, space, and tender loving care. Rough around the edges with mystery.

That sort of behavior just makes you want to peel back his layers, to see behind his hazel eyes, to know him. That’s why you make his coffee together with yours in the morning. Why you sit next to him at lunch. Why you accept invites to spar, despite knowing that within two minutes he’ll have your back pressed against the ground, his large hand caging your wrists above your head...

Yep, you tell yourself. Just curiosity.

Quickly, you thrust the treat into Logan’s hand and gently pry the kitten to sit on his knee instead. He lets out a noise of protest, surprised at the warmth of your hand over his and then the feather-light weight on his knee, but it’s too late. The ravenous beast puts its front paws on his hand, pulling it closer to its maw so it can continue to gorge on the treat.

He glares at you. You can tell it’s half-hearted, judging by the way his gaze softens when it lands back to the kitten. You purse your lips when you see his free hand petting the creature, the one not holding the treat. His hand is so big... compared to the cat, you quickly course-corrected your thought.

What a good day to have eyes.

You never thought you’d see Logan this soft—he has his moments, especially throughout the course of your friendship, but this is next level. You wish you could take a photo.

“What do you think we should do with it?” you ask softly, watching the rare scene before you.

“So it’s ‘we’ now,” he smirks. “You’re the one who fed it first.”

“You are now, too,” you retort.

“You know what they say. If you feed ‘em, they’ll come back.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

He looks at you, hazel eyes boring into yours, and you feel your stomach do a little flip. His voice is low and guttural. “You gonna take care of it?”

Your mind went elsewhere, the way he said that. When you speak, it’s soft, not wanting your voice to accidentally crack. “You’re not going to help me?”

He’s quiet. You look back at him expectantly.

There’s a slight roll of his eyes as he looks away. He thinks you can’t see. “Fine.”

You smile, pleased with yourself. The kitten licks at the plastic, cleaning up the last of the puree before it meows once at Logan, beady eyes meeting his sharper ones. Logan picks the kitten up by the scruff, setting it down on the ground next to him, but it still looks up at him expectantly.

“We should name—” you lift it up, peeking down between the creature’s legs, “him.”

Logan looks at you with a slight glint of amusement. “Yeah?”

Humming, you pet the cat absentmindedly as he begins to groom himself, licking his front paws and brushing his face. “What’s grey… Cloud? Sky? Storm? I don’t know if she’d appreciate that.” You murmur.

The kitten pauses, turning to look at you. You look back at it. It lets out a single high-pitched peep. 

“Smokey?”

When your gaze shifts to Logan’s face, there’s an upturn of his lip, as if you said something funny. How apt, he realizes, that this entire ordeal derailed his smoke break. 

“I like it,” he says. A delighted smile on your face melts something inside of him.

And that is how Logan ended up coparenting Smokey with you—or Smokes, as you like to call him. 

You’ve gone to the city twice to get Smokey vaccinated and microchipped, Logan coming along with you both times. He claimed he had nothing better to do. You thought it was extremely nice of him to do—he must really be a cat person. 

It got a little awkward when the vet initiated small talk by asking if you had a child at home to play with the kitten, flustering you into saying that you’re not with him like that.

“We’re just friends,” you said.

Friends who happened to be taking care of a cat together. That’s totally normal, right?

If Logan had fur it would’ve bristled right then and there.

But even he had to admit that taking care of Smokey had its perks. You didn’t want to bother Logan too much with the kitten and happily volunteered to keep Smokey in your room, at least until he’s big enough. This meant that Logan had a free visit pass to your otherwise private quarters. Once, you asked him to watch Smokey if he could while you taught back-to-back classes till late. He assented. 

Little did he know it would be sweet torture, being in your bedroom. He noticed your blanket folded neatly on the bed, revealing the crinkles of the sheets outlining where you laid. He could see your body there, asleep. What do you wear when you go to bed, he wondered? 

And God, don’t even get him started on your scent… It’s a spell on him, more of an addiction than his existing vices. Warm and sweet. Vanilla, honey, cinnamon. Like a fucking cake. The entire room smells like you, enveloping him. He’s not strong enough to fight that, wanted nothing but to bury his nose in your pillow just to get a lungful of you. 

That first time, he only kept the cat company for less than half an hour before deciding that the raging tent in his jeans needed more attention. Preferably under a cold shower in his own quarters.

You, on the other hand, didn’t expect him to be so willing and involved.

He isn’t as affectionate as you are with the cat, of course, but he’s… softer. One time you came back to your room to see him sitting at your desk, a book in hand while the cat lies on his lap, belly up. The peaceful sight is enough to release a violent army of butterflies in your stomach. You’ve mentally filed that image for any coming bad days.

Also, you like how you’re much closer to Logan now. Not that you don’t love Smokey. It’s just that having the kitten around makes for an easy excuse to get to hang out with the man more. You went to town together to buy some cat supplies because he insists on splitting the cost. The two of you spent a good ten minutes deciding what collar color would go with Smokey’s eyes (you’re the undecided one, Logan was pretty much set on the dark green since the very beginning).

More brushes of hands, his palm clasped over yours when you hand him Smokey to carry. Speaking to each other quietly when in your room and the cat’s asleep, his voice a low baritone that you find yourself replaying at night when you slip into slumber, warming you up in more than just one place…

Friends taking care of a cat together. What a lie, you say to yourself before falling asleep.

Logan has had enough.

He realizes this as he watches you coddle the tabby after feeding time, a thing you do every so often. Smokey is on your lap while you sit with your knees close to your chest, nose-to-nose with you. You pinch his cheeks, showering him with soft coos of endearments and kisses, attention zeroed in to only him.

“Good job finishing the food.” Kiss. “You’re getting big, aren’t you, Smokes? So handsome.” Smooch. “Love you, baby.”

The cat purrs audibly like a damn motorcycle, eyes closed to form two slits while he surrenders himself to your affections.  

Meanwhile, Logan’s jaw tenses as the scene unfolds. He knows what he’s feeling, and if it were a different time and place he’d laugh. He’s fucking jealous of a fucking cat. It actually hurts him a little to watch this, as pathetic as it sounds.

He takes a deep breath, collecting himself as he prepares to leave, hand on the doorknob. You notice, putting Smokey down before catching him by the doorway.

Logan tenses at a hand on his bicep. Your voice is calming, a genuine smile on your face.

“Thanks for helping out with Smokey again today.”

A crack in his hard-shelled heart.

You gasp when he turns, a strong hand on your shoulder pushing you inside the room, the door slamming shut the same time your back hits the wall next to it. His form looms over yours as he crowds you, an arm rests above your head, caging you in. 

“Logan—”

He tilts his face as he moves closer, breath warm on your face. “I swear, if I hear you say that damn cat’s name again…”

A small noise escapes you as you feel him press his nose into the crook of your neck. The way you angle your chin up to give him more space is almost automatic, like you’ve thought of this before—because you have. He inhales shakily. A shiver runs down your spine when he pulls away just enough to look you in the eye, his other hand snaking up your waist.

You’re not the only one who’s thought about this.

“What about Smokey?”

He swallows, mouth dry when he hears your voice. Sultrier even as a whisper, baiting him. The way your eyes soften, looking up at him, half-lidded. He catches the drop of your gaze to his lips and feels his blood pump with some feral energy, an unbearable surge. Your hands snake up on his chest, fingers gently closing around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him a little bit closer. 

Fuck.

You want him too.

“Sweetheart,” he growls, lips nearly against yours, “let me make you my pet for once.”

the fem!reader ending line would be:

"Sweetheart," he growls, lips nearly against yours, "the only kitty I care about is the one between your fuckin' legs."

that would be so unhinged ngl

[st6rly]

❛ love me like how only you do. ❜

synopsis : 　 through every universe, every cycle of rebirth, he will always find you. in which kazuha loves all versions of you; in every timeline, every universe, every breath or non-breath he takes. 　 ╱ 　 word count : 　 1.7k

characters : 　 kazuha x gn!reader

categories : 　 fluff. mild angst. yearning. royalty au. country x city trope. hospital au. modern au. apocalypse & post-apocalypse aus. idol au. inanimate object / nature au?? lot's of aus. 8 + 1 fic.

warnings : 　rusty writing (it's been a hot minute my bad-). brief major character deaths. mention of blood / injury / violence / drowning. illness in characters + family members. fire. zombies. mentions / vague descriptions of death in general.

dedicated to : 　 @yuomizuu, from your stellaronhvnter secret santa :3c when i saw kazuha on your list, i jumped for joy; he’s one of my top genshin characters & im so happy to have an excuse to write for him! // playlist i was listening to while writing // art by @.mayu_mey on twt

In one universe, Kazuha bumps into you on the street. 

Bundles of scrolls and parchment spill from your arms, delicate writing muddied with dirt as the commotion on the street barely comes to a halt. Onlookers scowl and grumble, moving past without a second thought as you scramble to collect your things from the footpath, movements hastened by the spear-tips aiming your way. 

Cape a deep crimson with delicate fur trim, the Kaedehara family crest is embroidered on the back in gold thread. Kazuha always thought it was unnecessary to flaunt his status, preferring respect of the family name over awe of his wealth. But being a gift from a dear friend, he wears it more often than not. In cases like these, he wishes he hadn’t. Your eyes catch the glint of his garments, and you freeze, petrified.  

Lowering to a crouch, Kazuha waves away his guards with dimmissive hand, gloved hands working to collect fallen sheets. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, voice kind and with a smile. He holds out a scroll for you to take back. Your fingers brush his. 

“Yes…” you mutter back, somewhat sheepish. You quickly rise to your feet and offer him a bow. “My apologies, Your Highness.” 

“No need for it.” 

He offers to walk you to your destination. You decline. He insists. The two of you both make it to the library in quick succession, the others on the road making way the minute the red of his cape is seen. 

“This is quite unnecessary, Your Highness.” Kazuha looks over at you. You smile when he meets your eyes. “It was I who bumped into you. There was no need to escort me back.”

“Ah, but I wanted to.” 

It’s when you’re inside, the door closed behind you, that Kazuha stops to stare at where you’d once stood. His cheeks are rosy with warmth.  

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” one of the guards prods, hesitant. “You seem a bit… flushed.” 

“I’m more than alright.” 

The kingdom falls before he can see you again. 

Flames engulf houses and shops; fire starved and ravenous, it becomes a glutton as it licks up the side of the library. His horse whinnies and backs away when the heat gets to be too much, but Kazuha can’t seem to pull himself away from the sight. He needs to leave. He needs to leave. Run. Run. Run. Run—

Some part of him hopes you made it out unscathed, heart heavy as the shouts of enemy troops chase after him. You would’ve liked the palace archives, he thinks, salt trailing down ash-stained cheeks as the ruins disappear in the distance. 

—

In one universe, you’ve just moved from the city to the countryside. 

As your new neighbour, Kazuha took it upon himself to welcome you. The rest of the area had heard about your reasonings: a relative of yours who owned the house you’d be staying in has fallen ill. You’re here to keep things in order while they receive treatment. 

Basket full of fresh fruit from his own farm, he stands outside your door with a nervous frown. His heart beats erratically in his chest, pulse ricocheting off the bones of his ribs. It’s never like him to be so jittery when greeting others. Readjusting his grip, Kazuha sucks in a breath and knocks. 

You shout back, “Just a sec!” 

There’s a brief moment where Kazuha debates leaving, dropping the basket and running. He digs his heels into the ground. The door opens with a click. You smile and— 

Oh. 

He’s been here before, hasn't he? 

Cheeks turning a soft pink, he grins back, holding out the basket. 

“A little welcome gift,” he says, “from your new neighbour.” 

You take the basket from him; your fingers don’t touch his. Is it weird that he wishes they did? Kazuha comes back the next day, handing you a bunch of mail and a package. You invite him to stay this time. 

Kazuha swears he’s seen you before, that you moving wasn’t a coincidence judging by the butterflies that eat at his stomach lining. Whatever it is, you don’t remember him like how he thinks of you. 

You return to the city months later, leaving the confession on the tip of his tongue. 

—

In one universe, you are the wind that greets him every morning. 

The hospital room is stuffy, void of colour except for the stack of “Get well soon!” cards and deflating balloons shoved by his bedside. He misses the farm, he decides, the vast openness of the trees and fields. The smell of medicine had stung his nose at first; now it’s barely there. Kazuha stares out at the sunrise, smiling to himself when a familiar breeze slips through the crack of his window. Bathed in gold with the sun speckled in his hair, he strains an arm and grasps onto a well-loved notepad and pen. 

“One day,” he murmurs, voice airy as he jots down the date, “I’ll be out there too.” 

—

In one universe, you’re a birdhouse and he’s the bird. 

The seeds are kept well stocked; the shelter you provide is always dry. You both get swept away in a windstorm. 

—

In one universe, he is a star. 

Rubble and debris from what were once towering builds block any type of path you may have been able to venture. Despite the lack of them, the stench of walking death still permeates the air.  

“Shouldn’t have taken that shortcut,” you mumble, grunting when your foot catches on another root. 

The trees grow thicker and you swear you’ve passed this part of the woods already. You grumble a string of profanities, plopping down to the forest floor and leaning against the bark. You look up. 

“You’re here at least.” The words are soft, much too gentle for the atmosphere. Kazuha doesn’t respond. Can’t respond. “You’d scold me for scavenging this late. I know it.” 

The star grows brighter, as if laughing. 

— 

In one universe, Kazuha’s flesh can be tasted on your tongue. 

Tied up in the corner, your arms pinned behind your back, he sits about two metres away in front of you on a broken crate. The gun lays loaded in his lap. Eyes closed with his head down, fingers resting on the cool metal, Kazuha’s lips stretch into a thin line. 

“It’s not right,” he mutters, mainly to himself as you thrash in the corner, desperate to reach him. “It’s not my right to rob you of life.” 

You snarl in response. Eyes bloodshot and crazed, he wonders if you can still understand him. Would you plead for him to shoot you? Would you beg to be spared? Could he bear to do either? He’s going to be sick. 

“It’s not right,” he repeats, shaky hands curling in his lap. “It’s you and me. We haven’t come all this way just to end.” 

The world has taken enough from him. Kazuha refuses to let it take you too; not without him.  

He stands in front of you. The gun lays off to the side. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice screams at him not to fold. They wouldn’t want this, it wails, clawing at the walls of his skull. Another tells him, Do it. And so Kazuha undoes your binds, kisses you, smiles tearfully when your nails claw into his skin. Blood runs down his back, stains his tattered clothing. He hugs you. Your jaws clamp down on the junction of his neck and shoulder. His nose brushes against your jaw. 

“It’s ok,” he whispers to ears that cannot hear reason, hold tightening, “we’ll be ok.” 

—

In one universe, you two never meet. Not face-to-face at least. 

Kazuha smiles at the camera, holding up a peace-sign, before the view switches to another member on stage. The clip goes viral very shortly after its creation. You come across it one day. 

“An idol, huh…” you mutter. 

 You scroll away. 

— 

In one universe, he’s stuck behind a screen, a watcher to your world as you go through the motions of life. 

Fate isn’t his, but he can’t seem to mind. When his splash art first coloured your screen, when he first witnessed that giddy look in your eyes, Kazuha knew he was smitten. 

Even if you ult at the wrong times, run out of stamina in the middle of climbing, skip dialogue, Kazuha is there beside you. For every beginning, end, every plotline in between, he’s a staple of your team. 

One day, you stop logging in. It was gradual at first; daily tasks, some resin here and there, you’d skip a day then come back the next. A day turned into two. Then three. A week. A month. Kazuha still waits. It’s funny how his world comes to a standstill when you do. He hopes you’re doing well. 

—

In one universe, he is a leaf and you are a river cutting through the forest. 

He drowns in your embrace, waterlogged and swept away as you carry him down stream. If he had a conscience, Kazuha would do it again. 

—

In this universe, it’s finally Kazuha and you. (There is no need to say he loves you when his name is already beside yours.)

Kazuha watches as you pack up your things. He stands from his spot next to you, bag slung over his shoulder as he waits. Other students are already leaving the lecture hall, milling about as he admires you from this short distance. 

In this universe, it’s been Kazuha and you since birth. Friends since forever, it surprised no one when both of you confessed. It would be nice if every universe were like this. 

“You’re staring.” 

He blinks, hand finding yours automatically. You squeeze back. 

“It’s hard not to when you look like that,” he teases back. 

“C’mon, the winter festival is starting soon.” You roll your eyes. 

Foot catching on the chair, Kazuha steadies you before your books can fall out of your hands, giggling when you’re quick to apologize. 

“I had a weird dream last night,” he blurts out once you’re back to standing. 

“About me falling?” 

“More than that.” He traces your skin with his thumb, lost in thought before speaking again. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm. Drop off your stuff and all.” 

“Nah, I can just meet up with you.” 

Would it be nice if every universe were like this? That’s silly, he thinks with a smile. No world could make me love you less. 

“I insist.” 

notes : 　inspired by multiverse concepts, including “everything, everywhere, all at once,” arcane, the "do you think we're together in every universe?" trend, and this one poem i read that i can’t remember. this ended up being shorter than i thought it would be, but there are a lot of parallels between scenes and such so i hope those were caught! apologies if the prose doesn't flow too well TwT

[sleepyhoons]

He is so cute 😭 jihoon soft hours

☆ WOOZI BOYFRIEND HABITS

pairing: woozi x reader

genre: headcannons, fluff, established relationship, idol!au mentioned

a/n: 8th part of the seventeen boyfriend habits series (requested) !! sent an ask to suggest the next member! ask to be on the taglist or fill out the form!

back to seventeen boyfriend habits masterlist!

☆ refers or talks about you in his songs

woozi isn’t the best with words. he has a hard time expressing himself and his emotions and it frustrates him a lot. it frustrates him that he can’t express how much he loves you or the members, stuttering over his words and repressing his feelings even further when he tries and fails. but one thing he knows he’s good at is writing, songwriting to be more specific. he doesn’t know how or why but whenever he enters the studio, suddenly he’s able to write pages full, hundreds of words spilling out of his pen. you’ve always been a big fan of his and his group’s music, always listening to their latest releases and sometimes even purchasing the album when you could afford it. he knows you’re proud of him and his success and he constantly wishes he could show you how grateful he is. so one day while being cramped up in his studio, his love for you takes over and he starts writing. it comes naturally and hours later when he’s done, he can’t believe all the words of endearment he managed to write down. his mind is full of inspiration thanks to you and he hopes that whenever you hear one of their love songs, you will be able to tell it was written for you and about you only.

☆ tugs softly on your clothing to get your attention

like we all know, woozi has always had a hard time expressing his feelings. and when he needs your attention, he can’t just randomly burst into singing. so for a while, woozi never knew what to do when he was in such a situation. it was heartbreaking when you would realize after that he wanted your attention and you weren’t there to give it to him, facing a sulky woozi. what he did find out, however, was how sensitive to touch you were. you would turn around at the slightest brush against your clothes, looking around for whoever was the (accidental) culprit. so, even if he did feel a bit bad whenever you would frantically look around for whoever tugged at your clothing, he would sigh in relief when your eyes landed on him. it slowly and surely became a habit, woozi tugging at your shirt or sleeve to catch your attention and you immediately concentrating on him, worried eyes and a reassuring smile on your lips.

☆ tucks you in bed when you fall asleep before him

being an idol is very difficult, it’s common knowledge; being an idol in a relationship can be even more difficult. the distance separating you from your partner, the long work days, the exhaustion, etc. but even if life isn’t the easiest with his job, you two still manage to work everything out. woozi also knows your job is difficult too– you, fresh out of university, having to prove your worth against trained people in the field. he also knows that you can’t always stay up and wait for him to come home as he often returns past midnight and you have to get up early. he doesn’t mind one bit coming home to you sleeping peacefully in your shared bed but some days he finds you asleep on the couch, a blanket covering your body. he falls in love with you at the sight every time, touched by the efforts you do to wait for him. so whenever you fall asleep waiting for him, woozi carries you to the bedroom, taking care to not wake you up as he tucks you in, an ‘i love you’ falling from his lips when you nuzzle deeper into the sheets.

☆ always sends you a photo of his empty bowl of food

when you two were still only friends and in university, you were aware of his unhealthy habits when he was working on a song. woozi would often lock himself into his small studio until he was done working, only ever going out to go to the bathroom or eat– which was only sometimes. when you found out about his self-destructive behavior second year in university, you did everything possible to convince him to take a breather outside and leave his stuffy room whenever he was going through one of his phases. you were the one ordering take-out or cooking meals for him, slipping it onto his desk. woozi wasn’t very fond of you invading his personal space so often and one time he snapped, demanding to know why you cared so much. you snapped back, unpleased with the tone of his voice and woozi knew he couldn’t stop you, you were way too stubborn. years later, your unsteady relationship healed and your caring gestures were enough for woozi to want to take better care of himself– for you. and warmth would spread through your body whenever he took the time to send you a photo of his empty bowl of food, showing he had eaten and that you had nothing to worry about.

perm. taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse

svt bf habits taglist: @baldi-2 @soov @ggyulicious @enhacolor @shuabby1994 @mariecoura @rosellerinfrost @jaemicr @just-here-to-read-01 @inmynewwrld @bigbossbennett @pearlygraysky @mika-t3t @niktwazny303 @minhwa @ikigaiox @bestboysvt @kokoiinuts @a-wandering-stay @maimeetangka

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

[venuiscmind]

Please write some skin to skin with Ellie. I need a break from her strap!! 😮‍💨😪😫

I need rubbing pussies together and desperate fingering 😩!!!

<3

Skin. (Ellie Williams x reader smut) 18+

read this pls. and this too (info about the next strike.)

You and Ellie go out for a night on the town but things quickly get very heated.

W.C: 6.2K

Warnings: squirting (ellie squirts, i'll die on this hill), oral,semi public sex, tribbing, scissoring, fingering, multiple orgasms, getting called a good girl and a slut, spit play, tiny bit of anal, some sub dom dynamics (y'all are switches and like to change it up), small bit of exhibitionism, some degradation, praise, weed, smoking, alcohol.(please be responsible when you go out, do as I say not as I do.)

Genuinely think this is the nastiest fic I've ever written. I need to find god and touch grass.

Requests are open so keep giving me inspo cause it helps a lot.

Loved this request btw, I also got inspo from when I went out ooph.

</3.

You grinned at Ellie, looking at the girl exhale the carbon from your shared cigarette.  

"What." she inquired raising her eyebrows at you, her tone flat. She wasn't even looking at you, staring at a broad woman checking IDs of people queuing to get into the cities most favoured club. You didn't miss the furrow between them, a dead giveaway that she was not happy at that moment.  

You took the burning cigarette she held out for you. "Nothing." You smiled around the cigarette, taking a beat to look around at the streetlamps illuminating the dark pavements, letting you see the shutdown stores and closed cafes and restaurants, littered with girls strutting up and down them shivering much like you and Ellie were.

Smoke breaks were never warm but with Ellie's arm looped around you, and yours on her waist you didn't feel the cold as much.  

You loved your city at night. Filled with old streetlamps, the orange and yellow white light making you feel free and grounded at the same time. Especially with your auburn-haired girl in your arms.  

After weeks of rotting in the campus library you decided to go out, both of you dressing up for the occasion to make the most of the time you had with each other. Away from the textbooks and other students.  

"There's obviously something you'd like to say so c'mon, tell meeee." You whined at her, flicking ash off the cigarette before exhaling to the side.  

"All I'm saying is that bouncer didn't have to ask you to fuckin' smile to check your ID? The fuck was that even about." She mumbled looking off to the side at the bouncer who was doing her job checking the ID if some random girl trying to sneak in.  

You giggled and leant into Ellie's side more, putting the cigarette back between her lips, watching her inhale before holding it between her pointer finger and thumb. "Ignore her," you said, looping your now free hands around her waist, under her oversized leather jacket and dark flannel around her waist. "I'm here to get into your pants not hers." you said looking into her eyes accentuated by the smoked out black eyeliner you had given her, parting your glossed lips trying to soothe the girl's building anger.  

You took her jaw in your hand, angling it to face you before tilting it as if to ask if it was going to be an issue. She took the cigarette out of her mouth to take a breathe, never looking away.  

She looked down at your face for a moment before her full lips curved up. She brought the smoke back up to her lips inhaling deeply "You're trying to get into my pants baby?" You felt a bead of sweat drip right by your temple. You couldn't tear your eyes away from her green ones as she gripped you closer to her. Her lips were so close to yours that you could feel her breath on them, and she ran a hand down your face. 

"Maybe." 

She looked you over for a moment before giving you a peck and stepping away from you breaking the standstill moment. She gave you plenty of those, where all you could do was focus on her. The slight buzz the nicotine was giving you accentuating the feeling.  

"C'mon, before you freeze out her. Let's go back in." 

You nodded and she put threw the cigarette on the ground, stomping on it to put it out. She held out her hand to you, quickly flashing both yours and her ID to the bouncer who said a gruff "Go on." Maybe she had witnessed yours and Ellie's public display of affection and wasn't happy with it you thought.  

You hardly cared anymore. 

All you could feel was the excitement of feeling the bass in your boots as you shrugged off your coat, leaving you in your red leather, skirt and black top. Both of which hugged your curves, letting Ellie see all that you had.  

She did the same but took off her flannel too, leaving her in a black tank, jeans, docs brought out by a small chain and her rings. Fuck she looked good. Especially in the red, low lights of the club, with her smoked out eyeliner you had done for her before leaving the house. The black really brought out the green in her eyes, contrasting her pale freckled skin. You both stashed them behind some random couch of the room.  

"Drink?" You saw Ellie mouth at you, her voice drowned out by a thumping song which was begging you to dance. You nodded, watching her flag down a bartender to pour you shots of tequila. You did however sneak in your phone to tap against the card machine before she could.  

"My round!" You yelled into her ear, taking the shot from her smiling at her while raising the shot glass. She smiled and nodded, letting you pay for her this time. She always paid majority of the time, but you loved taking care of her too when you could. She raised her glass to clink against her before you both tilting your heads back to let the liquid go down your throats, burning slightly on the way. Ellie winced at the liquid while you grinned at her and said, "We have to dance!" 

Ellie laughed letting you pull her down onto the dancefloor packed with other bodies. She always said the shots went right your hips rather than your head, always begging her to dance with you after taking one. 

You slid right into the middle of it, taking her right under the lights. You hung your hands around her neck, placing your head right into the space between her neck and shoulder inhaling slightly. In turn she put her hands right on your hips. They burned into you as you both swayed to the beat of the song, slower one that you could slink against each other.  

You sighed into her. You really did love this girl, despite the occasional anger issue she had with anyone looking at you. In her eyes you were her pretty girl, and no one should be staring at you like that but her.  

The songs transitioned as the evening went on. You and Ellie had broken away from each other but were still tethered to each other by whenever your hands held onto each other, or you swayed together to the bass of the songs. You couldn't keep apart for very long, always wanting to touch the girl in front of you. You were both grinning, sweating and laughing under the red strobe lights as you danced together.  

Ellie was never a dancer but with you she tried, keeping pace but also wanting to watch you under the lights. You changed when you danced. Watching your hips roll in a way she could never outside of the bedroom or when you ran your hands up and down your body to tease her. Your instincts took over and you knew how to move. These were on of the few moments your body knew what to fully do.  

You loved dancing with Ellie because your body took over then too.  

You never broke apart for too long, letting her twirl you under the red hue or you'd rock your hips against hers. You held onto both her hands tightly as you stole a kiss from her. You melted, feeling your glossed lips push against hers and her hands slipped down from your hips to your ass covered by a leather skirt.  

You placed a hand on the middle if her chest as she deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue into your mouth but you pushed her back.  

She looked confused before grinning at what you had felt. She grabbed your hand pulling you in and whispering into your ear "smoke break?" to which you eagerly nodded.  

You both made your way deeper into the club, to find the smoking room. It was full of people who had either had enough of dancing or who had come to stand around here in the first place. You rubbed your ears as you could feel your eardrums re-adjusting to the lack of noise and easing into the chatter of the room.  

Ellie stroked your hand, keeping you grounded as you stumbled behind her. She led you to the outdoor area which had hardly anyone in there. A few people who you suspected had the same intentions as you, judging by the smell. 

You closed the door behind you, quickly joining your partner as she placed the joint she had rolled earlier and kept in her sport bra in case security patted her down and would confiscate from her in her lips. She cupped the end of it, sparking it with her silver reusable lighter patting the space next to her beckoning you to sit down so she could pass it to you.  

She blew the ash of the end of it before holding it for you to take. You hummed and slotted it between your manicured fingers before holding it up to your lips and inhaling the way you had been taught.  

"Still can't believe security didn't pat us down? Lucky fuckin' break ‘cause I didn't want my blunt going to that security guard." 

You giggled "Ellie, you have got to let that go." You brought the joint back up to inhale, the end if it lighting up as you breathed before passing it back to you.  

Now was smoking, drinking shots, and smoking a blunt the best idea? Maybe not. But you rarely went out and you figured why not? 

You felt so safe with Ellie. Her tolerance was far better than yours, and if anything should happen you felt right at home with her. You peered out past the railing keeping you near the building at all the twinkling lights. You felt Ellie come up behind you to sneak her hands around your waist. She placed her cheek on your shoulder grumbling.  

You laughed at her antics feeing her shake along with your laughter. You laughed even harder when you saw she was still holding out the blunt for you to take, it coming virtually out if nowhere but floating into your peripheral vision.  

Instead of taking it, you had Ellie keep holding onto it while you leant down and inhaled from it. Your lips brushed her long digits leaving a glittery, brownish pink, you shaped smudge on her fingers. 

She had straightened up at that point watching you, and you lifted your eyes to meet hers as you exhaled out the smoke.  

"Never." She said rubbing her thumb against your glossed lips.  

"That's a pretty colour, how come you've never worn this one?" 

"It's new baby, remember you bought it for me last week?" 

You kissed her hand, thanking her for her small, sweet gifts she always got you while out.  

Ellie couldn't stop her mind from drifting. Maybe it was the weed or the shots, but she wanted to feel your lips somewhere else. She wanted to see your lipstick and eyeliner smudged with from your actions.  

She coughed, clearing her throat and trying to keep herself grounded. She inhaled her last puff not wanting to overdo it and held it out to you in case you wanted more. 

You did the exact same thing, keeping your eyes trained on your girl, watching her breath hitch, her chain glinting in the moonlight as her breathing became uneasy.  

Distantly you wondered if people queuing outside the club could see you from down there, if people in their cars speeding down the streets could see you eye-fucking your girlfriend. You suspected the people in the apartments definitely could and the people in the smoking area absolutely cou- 

Well fuck.  

You definitely felt it.  

You giggled and looked down at the ground as you felt the high slowly creep up over your brain. It was a slow acting bud Ellie had gotten this week so it would take a while for the feeling to peak but you could feel your limbs become lighter and heavier at the same time.  

"You feelin' it pretty girl?" Ellie lifted your face to check on you. Your eyes had turned the tiniest shade of pink but were mostly still white. Your pupils had become a little big but not that noticeable unless someone were really looking for it.  

Ellie knew though, because she was feeling the exact same thing. You were both fucked, she thought laughing along with you. 

She felt you take her hands and hold them against your powdered cheeks and nuzzle into them.  

"C'mere." She said tugging you into her arms. You groaned into her chest. Your nose was practically shoved down her black sports bra. 

"You good down there pretty girl? Pretty sure motorboating is frowned upon in public spaces but I'm not gonna stop you." 

You laughed pushing her away from you and walking towards the door back into the club. "I need some water, you comin?" 

Ellie looked at you for a moment. Her eyes drifting up and down as she smushed the roach into the ashtray provided and joined you by your side walking into the club again. 

You pressed yourself up against the counter of the bar, slumping into it while you waited for a bartender to stop in front of you. Once you'd had them you walked over to where Ellie had sat down on the couch, near where you had hidden your jackets.  

You smiled down at her, gently handing her one of the glasses in your hands. You took a few sips looked her down, dark flannel, several buttons open, exposing her black sports bra underneath, and an expanse of pale freckled skin that you wanted to kiss right then and there. Her toned legs spread slightly open and although you knew you shouldn't, you sat down on one of them. 

She pulled you across her lap, fingers digging into your hips as you both set down your glasses of water. You both studied each other's faces, you held a hand to her face which she leant into while giving you a fulfilled look. You were sure you had the same one on your face.  

You were both pulled out of the moment by a song of both of yours playing on the dancefloor. You both grinned to each other as you got up and rushed back to the floor, dancing again. You both yelled out the lyrics, twirling each other and laughing together until the beat changed into something slower, something deeper more sensual.  

You moved closer to Ellie, dancing with you. She had your hands all over you and maybe the weed had made everything feel so much more intense, but you thought you could feel them everywhere. You turned around but kept close to her to you. You could feel her breath turn shaky, pressed up behind you as her breath came down on your shoulder. You swayed against her feeling her hands on your tummy keeping you close to her.  

You lowered your knees, keeping to the rhythm of the song to get closer to her centre and ran a hand through your hair in a way you knew would keep her eyes on you.  

You suddenly couldn't breathe when your ass came in contact with her crotch. She kissed your neck hard enough to bruise trying to keep herself grounded as she felt herself growing more and more warm and flush all over her body. 

You twirled back around, to take a look at your girlfriend which proved to be a massive mistake. The red lights had taken her, making her look more dangerous and devastatingly beautiful than ever. She looked at you, like she could take all of you then and there. 

You bit into your lip, before yelling into her ear "Bathroom?" 

Ellie nodded and tugged you, moving people gently out of the way so she could get you through them.  

She pushed open the heavy wooden door filled with multiple stalls in normal dim white light.  

You leant against the sink, taking yourself in for a moment. Skin flushed, eyes pink, hair dishevelled. Your eyes shifted as you laid them on Ellie, making eye contact with you.  

You turned taking her face into your hands. Full parted lips, parted to try to keep breathing even though she knew it was futile. She was always like this when it came to you. Always breathing her last breath, and never taking in enough oxygen because all that was on her mind was you. Freckles, flushed skin and green eyes that were focused on your lips. They had a pink hue to them, letting you know that she felt the high too.  

You leaned in to kiss her, pulling her jaw down to meet you in the middle. You groaned into the kiss, which had turned sloppy so quickly, or maybe you had taken your time with it but everything felt so fuzzy and warm you couldn't tell anymore. All you felt was the girl's lips gliding against yours, her tongue invading your mouth and all your senses. You moaned into her mouth, pressing yourself up against her to which she answered by letting her hands drifting under your skirt to your ass.  

"Fuck." Ellie groaned between kisses.  

"Are." Peck. "you." Peck. "trying to." Peck. "fucking kill me." Smooch. She turned your face to kiss every part of it causing you to giggle. 

"Maybe. But I just want to keep kissing you right now." You said brushing strands of her hair out of her face, which kept falling whenever she kissed you.  

Her hands were everywhere again but the touches more desperate than before. Under your shirt, under your skirt, squishing your cheeks to steal another kiss from you.  

You didn't exactly remember whose idea it was to move into a stall, but you do remember walking backwards against the door of one and Ellie following you in with a predatory gaze.  

She cornered you against the wall of the bathroom stall, kissing down your body murmuring pleas against the skin. You huffed out, letting your head fall back against the cool cement walls, as you felt her hot breath on your skin. You raked a hand through her short hair, stroking her cheeks as she pushed up your skirt to your tummy and pulled down your underwear, letting you step out of them before pocketing them.  

"I hope you plan on giving me those back later Els..." you whined out. 

"Wouldn't count on it." she said and finally ran a finger along your folds.  

You took a sharp inhale as you felt her moving your slick, running it along your clit before dropping them as far as your opening. You shivered, "Els?" you huffed out.  

She only responded with a soft "Hm?" appearing too busy with continuing your torment. "Please Els? Can you touch me properly?" You begged the girl, your knees buckling slightly as you tried to keep yourself upright while she touched you. 

Ellie held your thigh, keeping you upright as well as keeping your legs open that buckles and shut slightly every time she moved.  

"Dunno." She replied, casually as if nothing was wrong.  

You groaned, knowing what the girl wanted and you couldn't deny her anymore. Not like this anyways.  

"Keep 'em." 

"Sorry I'm gonna need you to say that again. Didn't catch that." 

"You can keep them Els, just fuckin' do something please." 

"Keep what baby?" She said looking up at you as she slipped her middle finger inside of you.  

You grabbed onto her shoulder to steady yourself as you felt her reaching inside of you, gently fucking into you, finding the spot that had you squirming away and simultaneously rolling your hips against her tattooed hand. 

"Keep the panties, El, they're yours just don' stop." You sighed out, head facing the ceiling as you breathed out your words. 

"Good girl." She rewarded your generosity by inching her face closer, to your pussy, and kissing your clit before latching her lips to suck gently on you. 

"Oh, fuck Ellie." You sobbed out trying to stay quiet, grabbing gently onto her head to try and get her impossibly closer to your sopping folds.  

The girl trailed her tongue down to your opening before shoving the muscle inside of you. At that point, you shut your eyes tightly, held your breath in an attempt to keep quiet and couldn't focus on anything except the feeling of Ellie inside of you, and her nose bumping against your clit. 

It wasn't long before you came, riding out your high with the girl tucked between your thighs and you practically humping her face, trying to get her tongue and face as deep inside you as possible.  

Ellie was trying to taste as much of you as she could, slurping and licking every bit of sensitive skin you exposed for her. When she spelled away you could see all the efforts of both your actions on her face, which was covered in slick, on her cheeks, lips, jaw and nose.  

There was still a string attaching you to her lips. 

"Oh." You said holding your hands up to your mouth, trying not to giggle. 

"What?" Ellie said, furrowing her brows at you, wiping at her chin as she looked at you. 

"What do you mean what? You have me all over your face Ellie." You said trying you help her clean herself off laughing softly.  

"What can I say I got lost in the sauce." She grinned. 

Your jaw dropped as you smacked her on her shoulder.  

She laughed, rubbing at her face getting most of if off but missing spots on her chin. 

"Here." You said taking her chin in your hands and kissing it off.  

She looked back at you with glazed pink eyes, before kissing you again. 

Fuck, you thought to yourself. This had been a bad idea. All you could think about was tasting her now. Your hands gently reached for the zipper if her pants as she took your wrist and said, "You don' have to if you don' want to you know?" She always got shy like this whenever you wanted to reciprocate.  

"I know but I really want to Els. Will you please let me?" You blinked at her with doe eyes you knew would always work. She looked as you nuzzled your cheeks near the zipper of her pants, face brushing against her clit as you whimpered against the fabric, wanting to touch her. She ran her hands against your lip and nodded after searching into your pink eyes.  

She stood up and let you unbuckle her belt, pull down her pants and boxes in one go. She was a mess, dripping onto her thighs, and all over her folds.  

You plunged your head between her thighs and licked, slurped and sucked. 

"Wanna fuck you again when we get home Ellie, can I?” You murmured against her clit. 

"Oh, fuck you're really feeling it aren't you? So fuckin' needy,” she said taking your jaw in her hands to stare into your reddish eyes. You had reached the peak of your and wanted more and more of her. As much as she could possibly give you that night. 

She lifted your face closer to hers and once she was beside your ear she said, "Open up for me." and she then proceeded to spit on your awaiting tongue, and you whimpered as you swallowed her.  

You felt your legs getting soaked again as you grinded against nothing.  

"That's my good girl" she sighed as you nuzzled your face against her thighs, nose brushing her pubic mound and clit. 

You went back to tasting her when she grabbed the back of your neck and pushed you against her folds. You moaned into her, feeling her slick seep onto your tongue as you suck on her lips, clit and slipped your tongue inside of her. 

She shivered at the sensation, looking down at you pushing into her thighs and entrance as she grabbed the back of your head pulling you in closer. "So fuckin' good. You love getting slutted out like this don't you baby hm?" 

All you could do was nod against her. You pulled back to speak and look up at her before going back in for more of her. "Uh-huh. Love you els, love you so much."  

"Love you too pretty girl-fuck." 

Ellie whimpered as she came on your lips and gently pushed you away once she came so as not to get too overstimulated too fast.  

She watched as you wiped your face off, licking off whatever was left off her on your hands on your tongue.  

She knelt down to press a messy kiss against your lips. "So fuckin' nasty for me baby." She kissed you over and over before murmuring "You wanna get out of here pretty girl? Promise I'll make you feel so good when we get home." She groaned into your neck.  

You nodded against her, letting her pull you onto your feet before dressing the both of you and making sure you looked presentable.  

"Ellie my underwear, you gotta give 'em back." You pleaded with her.  

She turned you around to look at your ass, pulled your skirt down and you squeaked at the sudden groping and quick smack she gave you.  

"Nah, don't think so. You'll be fine it's just a 10-minute walk back to the apartment. C'mon I'll keep an eye on you." She said ushering you out of the stall, as you both washed your hands and cleaned your faces properly in the mirror.  

You walked to collect, your jackets from the couch putting them on and walking back out to the street, Ellie keeping her hands on your waist. Unbeknownst to you, she looked back at the security guard who was watching you both strut down the street and smirked at her, watching as her mouth fell into a hard straight line.  

She grinned and kissed your hands, trying to keep them warm.  

Both your cheeks were pink from the cold, as you breathed into the air watching the air in your body turn to mist in the night sky as Ellie shoved the key to your shared apartment into the keyhole. You hopped around trying to stay warm till Ellie pulled you into the apartment. helped you take off your coat and pulled you in for a kiss.  

You gasped and whimpered as she pulled your hair into a tight makeshift ponytail and tugged, causing your mouth to pry open as you felt her gaze on you. You looked up at her as she said "You gonna be good for me, pretty girl?"  

You nodded, biting into your lip and humming an affirmative. She let go and smacked your ass telling you to "Get upstairs. I'll be with you in a minute." She said before pecking you on the cheek. 

You giggled and ran up the stairs, following the girls demands as she pulled off her jacket and sighed. She took out the pack of cigarettes and lit one quickly while she walked over to the tap and got two glasses of water for you and her to drink. She sat down on a kitchen chair with an ashtray next to her. She heard a thump upstairs and frowned. She wondered what you could be getting up to there.  

She took a last puff of it before she stubbed out her cigarette, took the two glasses of water in her hands and marched up the stairs to see what you were doing.  

She was met with you, sitting at the edge of the bed, looking up at her and naked. That thump she had heard was the sound of you dropping your boots on the floor as you stripped off and had thrown your clothes on the floor. She shook her head grinning and said "Here." handing over the glass of water to you. 

You took it and sipped from it before she took it back and placed it on the nightstand.  

She took off her rings too placing them on the wooden surface. 

She took your cheeks in hand, squeezing them together and kissed you. "You okay if I get a little rough with you?" she whispered in your ear, "Wanna make you feel it." She palmed your tits, groping and squeezing them making you whimper under her.  

You kissed her back and said, "It's what I wanted in the first place, please Els."  

She took this chance to push you back onto the bed and climb between the space of your legs, letting you hook them around her waist. She looked at you splayed out under her, tits bouncing from the push, hiding nothing from her. She slapped your tits, swatting one then the other, watching as you whined under her from the hit and groaned. Ellie leaned in to latch onto your nipples, sucking on them gently, rolling your nipples in your mouth with her tongue, and pulling on them with her teeth,  

You moaned at this, carding your hands through her hair pulling her closer to you, your legs tightening your grip on her waist, grinding your sensitive exposed pussy against her, wetting the front of her jeans as she humped your back. 

"What are you, a bunny or somethin' humping me like that? Fuckin' nasty slut." She groaned into your tits.  

You loved when she degraded you like this. Made you get so much wetter which you were sure she could feel too. 

She moved her hands down to your soaked entrance, rubbing around your juices before plunging her fingers into you again. You shrieked at this, arching your back against her as her middle and ring finger scissored in and out of you, letting you see her tattoo flex as she moved. You could feel your slick slip past your entrance dripping further down. 

She kissed down your stomach, slurping again at your clit, then your entrance then- 

Oh fuck. 

She kept moving further and further spreading your juices with her tongue and fingers down to your asshole. She pulled back, spitting on the entrance before continuing licking and tasting you, pushing your knees back as you moved trying to escape the sensations. 

"Mm, tastes so good all over, pretty girl." She hummed pulling back, before letting go and pulling back. She took off her flannel and jeans, leaving her in her black sports bra, silver chain and boxers. 

She thumbed at your clit watching you squirm again under her.  

"Wanna get on top pretty girl? Didn't you wanna fuck me? Make me feel good again when we get home?" She drawled, smiling at you under her. 

She gently slapped your cunt, prompting you to give her an answer when you sobbed at her "Yes, Ellie wanna fuck you please?" 

She stood up, pulling off her sports bra over her head, and slipping her soaked boxers, down her legs.  

She sighed lying down on the bed, watching as you clambered up on her body. You ran your hands down her body, watching her nipples stiffen from being exposed to the air, her abs rising and falling as she took in unsteady breaths, watching you take over.  

You hooked your leg over her hip, allowing you to straddle her. You took her chain under your finger tugging and pulling her up to meet her lips again. 

You felt powerful on top of her seeing her under you, waiting for what you were going to do.  

You shuffled upwards, deciding to plant yourself over her abs, sitting your wet pussy down onto it, moaning at the crevices and bumps as they brushed against your clit.  

"Fuck." You groaned out, your eyes fluttering shut as your head fell back and you could see the white of your ceiling.  

Ellie shuddered under you, feeling the wetness of you gather on her stomach, making the sloppiest mess she had ever seen from you. She loved watching you ride her like this. Something about seeing you take control of her like this, using her made her want to submit to your forever.  

She huffed out, "Please move down baby I can't take it." She really couldn't. She was soaked wet, exposed with no friction or anything to ease the heat building up between her legs.  

"Should've thought about that before you stole my underwear baby." 

"'m sorry, okay? I'll buy you a fuck ton of new pairs just please do something y/n 'm dying here." 

You looked at your girl under you, flushed and gasping, nails digging into your hips, and she clung on for dear life. 

You hummed before moving down and grinding against her pubic mound. Fuck, you were gonna get another noise complaint but fuck that because this felt too good to give up.  

Elle couldn't think or speak, feeling only white noise slip into her ears, as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, feeling you slip and slide against her pussy. She could feel the strands of slick from both of you, keeping each of you tethered to the other.  

She felt her soul leave her body as you kissed her, slipping your tongue in your mouth to silence the girl under you but that didn't work. So, you pulled away listening to her sob for a moment while you kept watching her moan out before slipping your pointer and middle finger into her mouth.  

"Gonna h-have to keep you -fuck- quiet somehow." You grinned at her, voice breaking from your moans. Ellie suckled on your fingers but ever the brat she was, she decided she wasn't going to take so easily. 

She slipped her hands behind you before sliding a finger inside of your asshole, making you lean back and almost fall off of the girl.  

You felt Ellie suckle harder on your fingers, keeping you somewhat grounded as you continued to bounce and slide on her clit. Soon you were both groaning out each other's names, creaming and cumming against each other.  

You watched Elle ride out her orgasm, nails making crescents on your hips which would last and bruise, letting you re-live this for days whenever you saw them. Her face was leaning back into the pillows, mouth hanging open as soft moans escaped it with her eyes squeezed shut. Her silver chain glinting in the soft light of your bedroom with each breathe she took. 

She rocked your hips back and forth pro-longing both your respective climaxes till you lifted off her, sitting on her thigh as you pressed your body against her, till you were close enough that she could feel your lashes against her face.  

She pried open her eyes, laughing at how close you were. 

"Can I help you? You're so fuckin’ close. Jesus. "  

You giggled, kissing her cheek. "Can you give me another?" 

Ellie raised her brows, at your question "Think so, what've you got in mi-" 

She was cut off as she felt you slide a finger into her.  

"Fuck me-oh my god!" She groaned as you picked a brutal pace to fuck into her, adding another digit, fingers hitting the spot that had been sensitive all night. She could feel a pressure building and thought about warning you about what was happening but couldn't get the words out.  

All she could do was take it and whimper and hold onto your hip and free hand.  

"Feeling good baby?" You murmured against her lip, echoing the words she had asked you earlier that evening when she had been tormenting you.  

She fucked herself back against your hands, groaning a series of "Yes-fuck- yes so good."  

You bent down to lick at her clit and moaned around her. "Can taste the both of us here Ellie, you taste so good with me like this." 

She felt herself clenching around your fingers at your words and the sensations, as a clear liquid came from her as you continued pumping into her, draining her of all that she had. Ellie had soaked, your fingers, bedsheets and herself as you had planned for her to.  

You pulled out of her gently, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, until she grabbed the back of your neck pulling you in for a proper kiss. 

You kissed her quickly before getting up and getting her a cloth to clean her with, before handing her an oversized shirt to sleep in. You repeated the process for yourself after handing her the glass of water she had procured for the both of you earlier. 

You helped her up to guide her to the sink to wash her face and brush her teeth and go to the bathroom. As you brushed together you thought about doing this with her forever, loving her, taking care of her, going out with her for the rest of your lives together. 

As you slid under the covers together, and pressed your foreheads against each other, you knew she had the same thought.  

"Love you, Ellie." You whispered to her squeezing her hand. 

She squeezed back before wrapping her arm around you, pulling you closer to her, as she whispered back, "Love you more, pretty girl." pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

[mischiefmanagers]

Eris Vanserra Fic Rec Library 🍁❤️‍🔥

these fics are a mix of Eris x reader, Eris x OC, and a few general Eris fics with no pairing. if you've never read an Eris fic before, I highly recommend starting with the first rec below (gust & flame) because that fic made me fall in love with him. enjoy ✨

🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut

by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

gust & flame (series) 🥀💞🌼

by @theostrophywife

here in your arms. 💞

like you wanna be loved 💞

by @acourtofmenandthirst

The Fox & The Hound 💞

by @leafsandstarlight

Destiny's Battleground (series) 🥀💞🔥

In Spite of Our Differences (series) 🥀💞🔥🌼

Great Rite 🔥

The Prince of Blood

by @profound-imagination

Finding Home 💞

Rose Gardens

by @munsons-hellfire

Happiness in the Heart 🥀💞

by @sweetcarolina-24

Scorched Shadows

by @azrielbrainrot

Fire on Fire

Mind Over Matter 🥀

by @danikamariewrites

Rescue 💞🥀

Fake Sleeper 💞

Peace 💞

Seekers 💞🌼

Did You Just Say No?

Song of Death

Starfall Revelations 🥀💞

Guilt 🥀💞

Kisses 💞

by @redbleedingrose

Till the End of Time 💞🥀

Pretty? 🥀💞

by @b0xerdancer-writes

It Wasn't Supposed to Happen Like This 🥀💞

by @thisblogisaboutabook

Bad Idea, Right? 🥀🔥

by @azsazz

Cherries, Juniper, and Orange Slices 💞

Fire & Water 🥀🔥

by @honeybeefae

Cauldron Fated 💞🥀🔥🌼

Forgotten Ties 🥀

Valentine's Mini Fic 💞

A Court of Wings & Fire (series) 🥀

Past and Present 🥀💞

Coronation Day 💞

Potions 🔥🌼

by @we-were-beautiful

The Fox and the Hounds 💞

by @bubbles-for-all-of-us

My little flame 💞

Her 🌼

My tears ricochet 🥀

by @2thestars-andbeyond

The Fire That Burns Within (series) 💞🥀🔥

by @simkaswriting

What if…Eris had danced with y/n instead?

by @jeannineee

Daylight 🥀💞

Breeding 🔥

by @jdeclerc

a brother's intervention 🥀

by @azrielsdove

Playing With Fire 🥀🔥Azriel x Reader x Eris

by @cassiefromhell

Unexpected 💞🥀🔥Azriel x Reader x Eris

by @fieldofdaisiies

Late Again 🥀

Brother 🥀💞 no pairing

Falling 💞🌼

by @azrielsoulmate

Covered in you 💞

by @cupidojenphrodite

Morning After 🔥

by @acourtofwhatthefuck

Loose Lips 🥀🔥

by @thelov3lybookworm

Remember me? (series) 💞🥀 from Rhysand x Reader to Eris x Reader

Bloodshed 🥀💞

Not what I expected 🥀💞🌼

by @fineghkst

How Eris acts around his mate 💞

by @ladyescapism

fractured bonds 🥀

by @clairebear08

Woven 🥀

Use Me 🔥

by @historiaxvanserra

If I Can't Have Love, I Want Power 🥀🌼

I Am Not a Martyr, I'm a Problem

by @shadowdaddies

Autumn's Eden 💞

Bramble 💞

by @azrielslightintheshadows

Fake love. 🥀

by @crypticandmachiavellianaugustine

Sweet Nothings 💞🌼

by @readychilledwine

Death of Peace of Mind 🥀🔥🌼

Safe Haven 💞

Relief

Unconditional 💞

Leap 💞🌼

Kissed By Fire

Lapcat 🔥

Pack Mentality 💞

Tainted Love 🥀

by @throneofsmut

Bound In Flames (series) 🥀💞🔥

by @parkerslatte

Overlooked 🥀🌼

Warm Me Up 💞🔥

by @prythianpages

Like An Angel 💞

Cruel, Wicked Thing

by @saphirered

Frozen lake 🔥💞

by @thehighladywrites

Professor Eris 🥀💞🔥

by @thevanserrras

Breaking Point 🥀

Den of Foxes 🥀💞

Happy Equinox at Last 💞

Wake Up 🥀💞 Azriel x Reader x Eris

Petty 🥀💞

by @secret-third-thing

Never An Honest Word 🥀 no pairing

by @nocasdatsgay

From the Ashes, the Wildflowers Grow (series) 🥀💞🔥🌼

by @lucienforhighking

Hounds of Love 💞

Dancing 💞🔥

by @callmeblaire

when fire and ice dance

by @moonlightazriel

Symphonies 💞

When no one hears your calls 🥀💞

by @sellyoursoulforagoodfic

Monstrous Secrets 🥀💞

by @florencemtrash

Flame, Shadow, Beast 🥀💞 Azriel x Reader x Eris

by @serpentandlily

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny (series) 🌼

Last Solstice 🥀💞🌼

by @fever-fluff

Unconditional

by @yearning-for-autumn

Would That I

[babyrubysoho]

My illustration for the Good Omens Minisode Minibang 2024. It was so much fun to participate (my first time doing a minibang XD)!

I was lucky enough to get a fabulous fic set on the night of the burning of the Great Library of Alexandria (long hair Crowley, my beloved!😍❤️), by rainbow_salt.

Please do check it out if you're interested!

@go-minisode-minibang

[jadeschambers]

Fluffy Trueform!Sukuna x reader 😏

tags: mentions of murder and blood. kissing, sukunas kinda oc but hes my fluffy baby. not rlly proof read

I know I introduced that one fic idea but I plan to release all chapters at once. I just wanted to feed u guys with this so I wouldn’t leave yall hanging. Thank u guys for being so patient with me!

trueform!Sukuna who finds you all battered and dirty, covered in ash after destroying your village. the curse had no remorse towards humans. in his eyes they were seen as weak and impertinent; full of desires they could never fully fulfill with their fleeting life span.

trueform!sukuna who takes you in, somehow tolerating you. he adores how small you were compared to him- how your cute face would brighten up a little when he would return from long missions. you were the only thing he looked forward to after mass murdering villages in japan.

trueform!sukuna who “doesn’t” comfort you when you have a nightmare. he can feel how you relax in his arms, his warmth coaxing the dark and painful memories that resided in your head to disappear. the king of curses refuses to acknowledge it but his heart truly does clench when he sees you tormented by your past.

trueform!sukuna who slaughtered his entire harem after he overheard them harassing you. his little precious flower, whom he treasures so dearly. the ruthless king of curses held you close, one of his four hands covering your eyes to shield you from the dead bodies of his harem.

trueform!sukuna who brings you little trinkets and presents after he returns from his trips that are sometimes covered in blood. his greatest endeavor is observing the way you tear up at his gestures, your little puny heart that is so utterly weak at handling emotions.

trueform!sukuna who sometimes accidentally makes you cry, his words can be cruel and insensitive. it angers him, and yet confuses the curse. when has he become so weak? was he always like this? he stays up at night thinking about you, and what he would be if he hadn’t come across you that day.

trueform!sukuna who makes it up to you by bringing you to a beautiful flower field, letting you braid flowers into his soft pink hair. his heart flutters when he sees you genuinely smile, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch.

trueform!sukuna who stops going away so often, instead opting to hold you close to his furnace like body, listening to your sweet voice read the dusty ancient books stored away in his library.

trueform!sukuna who finds himself staring at you all the time, and when he wasn’t, you would be on his mind. the curse who now loves to cup your supple cheeks and stroke your cheek bone with unseen tenderness.

trueform!sukuna who finally comes to term with his feelings, bringing you to that same flower field where he saw you smile for the first time. there, the king of curses held you so gently, admiring your glassy round eyes that adorned the darkest pair of eyelashes.

trueform!sukuna who kisses you for the first time, colliding his lips with yours. and to him it made him feel complete. the murders and begs of people who pleaded for their lives in the past couldn’t compare to what he felt with you. when he pulls away, he utters the three words that you longed to hear.

[httpdwaekki]

ash’s comfort fics

summary: a collection of my favorite fics to reread when i need a little comfort.

a/n: i am currently in the hospital (i’m okay just in some pain) and i wanted to make a collection of fics and authors that have been bringing me some comfort and hopefully you if you need it. ngl most of these are fake texts bc they’re the easiest to read when i’m upset lol but i do wanna make of list of my favorites so i’ll do that when i’m back home. i will be tagging everyone that i link but let me know if you want to be untagged. remember to eat, drink water and take your meds <3.

fundraiser

(pictures not mine! credit to owners!)

@bluejutdae

• wearing bf!skz’s clothes in public ot8

• bf!skz comforting you after a bad day at work ot8

• poly!skz helping you with a migraine ot8

• texts w/ bf!binnie s.c.

all of her work is amazing so please check out the rest of it!

thiana’s library

@bodybahng

• the rest of my years l.k.

• overworked b.c. | l.f.

• the only gift i need s.c.

all of louie’s work is soso sweet n soft and gender neutral don’t forget to check them out :3

louie’s library

@feelbokkie

• how he comforts you ot8

• long distance bf!skz ot8

• when you don’t feel like yourself ot8

• dad!skz when your kids cut their own hair ot8

i always read some of her work when i need a good giggle or warm feeling, definitely check her out!!

bokkie’s library

@giddyfatherchris

• i can’t sleep b.c.

• you’re sick pt.2 ot8

• you fainted pt.2 ot8

• you’re having a rough time pt.2 ot8

• comforting you through a rough patch w a friend ot8

my bug writes the most comforting n warm fics ever, anytime i need comfort her fics are my go to <33

ilya’s library

@hyunjins-orange-slice-too

• daddy!chan texts pt.2 b.c.

• when your period is close b.c.

• when you injure yourself at the gym s.c.

• poly!seungin k.s. | y.j.

another one of my go to’s especially when i’m having a bad day, her whole masterlist is amazing, these are just some of my favorites :3

emmy’s library

not alot but definitely some of my favorites that bring me some comfort on a bad day or just a good reread :)

[sleepyhoons]

DUDEE I LOVE ME SOME HIGHSCHOOL SHIT

Gonna read it now

HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS

yn and chan date since their freshman year and are truly high school sweethearts, but will chan’s dream of becoming an idol get between their relationship?

warnings: cursing words, kms/kys jokes, sexual jokes (not explicit)

status: on going

taglist: open (leave a comment or send me an ask to be part of it!

lua’s note: waaah here am i doing another smau! this one is way shorter than my first one (invisible string, my beloved one 🥲), but i hope yall shower high school sweethearts with love (if youre liking it, ofc lol)! since its a high school smau and yn and chan are seniors, the rest of svt members wont be mentioned in this project (just one of them). also, english is not my first language.. just so you know

yn’s friend group — chan’s friend group

chapter 01.

chapter 02.

chapter 03.

chapter 04.

chapter 05.

chapter 06.

chapter 07.

chapter 08.

…

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

hi!! I’m very aware that this was requested on the 13th of August, and literally over a month later I’ve finally managed to write it up. I feel unbelievably guilty for not getting it done sooner and I’m sorry it even took this long. I really really hope you enjoy it and I’m ever grateful for the patience 🤍🤍

title: there’s always another mystery

pairing: jameson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: avery kylie grambs is spending a little too much time with your boyfriend than you’d like… but when jameson starts lying about it questions are raised and tension rises until it all bubbles over

warnings: mild swearing, violence, assault

a/n: the synopsis sounds really cringy so forgive me, this fic is kind of long and very dialogue heavy and ermmm… I hope you enjoy the ending ;)

tag list: @bewitchingkisses @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31

You sit on the bed waiting for Jameson to arrive. You wonder how long he’ll take this time. You’d just seen him and Avery ascending the set of stairs that lead to his dead uncle’s wing. Him and Avery. The pretty new comer with those big hazel eyes and long soft hair, pocketing a billionaire’s fortune overnight. She had it all: the looks, the brains, the humour. She was perfection and that bugged you greatly. She was a mystery.

Literally. When Tobias had finally decided to fall asleep forever, she was the result, the heiress, the consequence. She was big masterful puzzle had popped out of nowhere, from nothing. Not that you hadn’t had you fair share of experience with that. You’d earned yourself a scholarship to one of the most prestigious private schools in Texas and raised from the ashes into a burning flame. Then you’d met Jameson Hawthorne.

He had always been an interesting character, you had just never expected his interest in you. You were the scholarship kid nobody knew or cared enough to know and somehow he was intrigued. He had found you studying the the library one day and the two of you just clicked, it was like you’d known each other for years. He’d walked you home that night and had done so ever since. From that day on you were the closest of friends. It wasn’t long before you met his brothers, mostly absent mother and extremely judgemental grandfather. Hawthorne house became a second home. The two of you sat for hours, mostly on the rooftop, staring up at an endless sky of stars and talking about anything and everything. You actually don’t think there’s a topic you haven’t covered. Everything seemed to be going swimmingly… then he started dating Emily.

From the beginning, you didn’t like her at all, but you bit your tongue from pouring out your true feelings to Jameson when he’d asked for an opinion on her. You didn’t want to make his relationship feel awkward. She was everything you didn’t want him to be with. And she wasn’t you. It shattered you, but you saw how his face lit up when he mentioned her name and you vowed you wouldn’t ruin that for him. To see him that happy was worth it.

You should’ve trusted your gut. Everyday since she broke his heart, you beat yourself up for not saying anything. There were so many chances and you took none of them. She used him, abused him and left him to rot, you supposed she didn’t account for that fact that you’d be there to save him. And then she died. It was one destructive milestone after another. Explosion after explosion. But you helped Jameson through the hardest time of his life, you fixed him when he was too broken to mend.

It wasn’t until then that you realised you loved him. I mean you’d always known you’d loved him, but never in a romantic way, it had always felt so plutonic. But judging by the pure fury that built up inside of you when Emily was mentioned, the passionate way you protected and defended him in situations and the fact that you wanted nothing more than to kiss him until he couldn’t speak, you were pretty sure you were in love. But you never acted on the feeling, too afraid you’d ruin the closeness you had. It wasn’t until one night when you’d been stargazing together that he took your face in his gentle palms and kissed your tender lips. The whole act took you by surprise suddenly, but it didn’t stop you from kissing back. It felt so natural, so normal, like it was supposed to be this way. He was sweeter than you’d imagined but in the best way possible.

“I’ve always loved you,” he’d whispered as you’d pulled away, “always.”

“I’ve always loved you too,” you’d smiled shyly, cheeks flushed with colour, “and to be honest I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You can’t remember when it was established that he was your boyfriend but from that kiss onwards, that’s what he was to you. He was still your best friend but in a different way. There was more chemistry and kissing, but the banter remained the same. The two of you were actually planning to go on a backpacking trip around Europe but then Tobias had died and it was another round of pain and healing for Jameson, who turned to alcohol for respite. But then the will happened and Avery Kylie Grambs had appeared out of nowhere and the old man’s final game had unfurled. So the mystery girl had been an adjustment for you to say the least.

Avery wasn’t bad. In fact you liked her a lot, you could see yourself forming a friendship with her, a tight bond but the problem was the sheer amount of time she was spending with your boyfriend. After discovering she was the key to solving his grandfather’s final mystery Jameson became obsessed. He craved the answers, thirsted for knowledge. You didn’t mind at first, you let him play his game, you only ever objected the dangerous parts when he risked himself getting hurt. Other than that you said nothing. Then he let on that this all had something to do with Emily. Emily had destroyed him, from inside out. A broken, bitter shell was formed over the real Jameson. You had worked so hard to get him to see that he wasn’t broken or damaged and you feared this might undo it.

But you knew how important Emily had been, how much of his life she’d ruined, you knew Jameson needed the closure and Avery would help him to get there, but after that you expected their interaction to die down. But they didn’t. Not in the slightest. You weren’t jealous at first, you trusted Jameson and didn’t see Avery as a threat, but after a while the meetings felt too frequent and too elongated. It was a little suspicious. When you’d asked Jameson he insisted it was all part of the game.

But then that game finished and it opened up another. Of course there always had to be more to a mystery. They were Hawthorne’s. But you’d had enough, you were tired of the endless myserties. Was it so selfish to want things to go back to how they were before? When the old man’s games were not as dangerous, a little less time consuming and uninvloving of recent billionaire girls.

You’re reeled in from your deep train of thought as Jameson walks in. You look up from your desk, placing your pen down. You flash him a sweet smile in which he returns.

“So where have you been?” you ask, a hint of a forged giggle in the back of your throat.

“Nowhere,” he shrugs, the blatant lie so easily escaping his lips cuts right through your heart.

“Nowhere with brick dust on your blazer and shoes?” you raise an challenging eyebrow, arms folded across your chest.

“I climbed a wall,” he says. Lie number two, you make a mental note.

“I saw you with Avery and Xander in Toby’s wing,” you say bluntly, your face expressionless so he can’t read it.

“Are you spying on me?” he replies, gaping.

You give a delicate shrug in response and don’t answer the question directly, “what were you whispering about?”

“What do you mean?” he furrows his brow, confused.

He’s playing dumb. Fine. He can play dumb. But he won’t able to for much longer.

“I mean what were you and Avery just whispering about,” you ask directly, your tone flat as the tyre you’d burst on his car earlier that morning.

He hesitates. He doesn’t want to tell you, that’s obvious.

“Oh, was it personal?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, opting a cold, curt, feigned sort of concern to your tone.

“Oh no,” he mumbles, “well kind of…Tobias Hawthorne is alive.”

You try not to the let your jaw drop, “your grandfather?”

How had that slimy bastard managed to fake his own death and-

He shakes his head, “my uncle.”

Of course, why hadn’t you seen it sooner? Him and Avery going into his wing, the sneaking around. But then how is the question, Toby had died before Jameson had even been born.

“And so the plot thickens,” you muse, pursing your lips.

“As always,” he says, flashing you a lopsided grin that was so like him, it reminded you of the old Jameson. The one that you got closer and closer to forgetting the less you saw of him.

“Who else knows?” you ask.

“The family,” he shrugs in response.

“And Avery?” you prompt.

“She knows,” he nods, not meeting your eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, “you didn’t mention her name?”

“She was implied when I said family,” he replies.

“She was and I wasn’t,” you ask, the words not being filtered through your brain before you blurt them out. You don’t know why it hurt you so much, it just did.

“It’s not like that,” he shakes his head.

“Okay,” you reply flatly

He shoots you a knowing look and sighs, “y/n.”

“What? I said okay,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up into the air, “that means it’s okay, I’m okay, we’re all okay.”

“You don’t sound okay,” he says gently.

“Well I’m fine,” you snap.

“I didn’t mean it like that, of course you’re part of this family,” Jameson replies, trying to make up for it.

“Forget it, I don’t care,” you retort.

“Common y/n,” he groans.

“No it’s fine, I don’t care,” you shrug, very obviously caring as your voice is high pitched and you’re being far too defensive, “do what you want.”

“She just worked it out,” he explains, “she found out that-“

“I said I don’t care,” you say sharply, eyes pinned to his.

“I know you do,” he murmurs, taking a step closer.

“No I don’t,” you shake your head in denial, “end of story, what’s for dinner?”

“I know I’ve been with her a lot recently,” he sighs.

“A lot is an understatement,” you blurt out, unable to stop the thoughts that circle your mind from finally surfacing.

“It was all part of the game, you understand,” he says as a statement, not a question.

“Of course I understand,” you reply, your voice a little colder than you’d intended but it’s too late to take it back.

For a split second hurt flashed across Jameson’s features but he swiftly continues, “it was the old man’s game.”

“It always is with you,” you say curtly, with an eye roll.

“You knew what you were getting into when you became my girlfriend,” he says, growing irritated, “I warned you-“

“Getting into?” you scoff.

“The old man always has a game,” he presses on, regaining his cool.

“And you always play it,” you snap, the fury inside of your raging a little too violently to be tamed.

“I have to play,” he says, his voice strained.

“No. You don’t. You think you have to play and your grandfather knew that,” you reply, “he knew you had a thirst to play and wouldn’t resist. Prove him wrong Jamie, make him stir for the flipping grave.”

“And what if I don’t want to do that,” he asks, raising his voice slightly.

“Then you’re not the Jameson I know,” you murmur in a low, dark voice.

“Maybe I’m not anymore,” he shrugs, “people change.”

“No,” you shake your head, “people have changed you, one person in particular.”

“Avery is just a friend,” he rolls his eyes, “I don’t understand why you’re getting so hotheaded about it!”

“You’re dimming yourself down for her,” you yell.

“So what?” Jameson challenges, making the volume of your voice.

“That’s not you,” you tell him.

“Maybe it is now,” he cocks his head to the side.

“You know you’re just talking shit,” you spit.

“I like her company,” he shrugs, “and I don’t want to prove the old man wrong, I want to make him proud.”

He’s trying to get under your skin and you know it. He’s doing a good job.

“You can’t live your life trying to prove something to him, he won’t be proud, he’s dead Jameson,” you snap.

“I know he’s dead,” he shouts, “I don’t need you to tell me.”

“Good, now that information is consolidated maybe you’ll come back and live your life,” you say, the harshness in your tone making your throat ache.

“I am living my life,” he retorts.

“Running off with girls to the Laughlin’s cottage at 3am, that’s living your life?” you ask.

“Is this still about Avery?” he asks, then laughs, “you’re pathetic.”

“I’m pathetic?” you yell, “you have spent the majority of the past few weeks at her side, working this shit out and I’ve been patient and I let it happen and I waited but now there’s more to this mystery and I can’t do it again and it’s not fair for you to put me in that situation again. So forgive me if I’m sounding a little pathetic.”

“Fair? My uncle is still out there, still alive,” he replies.

“You never even knew him,” I roll my eyes.

“He’s family,” he roars.

Something about Jameson was that he was loyal to the bone when it came to family.

I shrug, “so was your grandfather and look how he treated you.”

“Don’t speak a word against him,” he says, his voice low, warning, dangerous

“You were never good enough for him and that killed you,” I reply, my voice failing to stay stable, “he broke you and I helped fix you and now we’re going back around the same cycle. Why are you still letting him continue to break you?”

“I said don’t speak a WORD against him!” he tells, his voice powerful

You could cry. You feel like it. But you don’t. For some reason you’re past tears now.

“But when you did it was okay?” I scream back, “when you’d come to your bedroom a wreck and shit talk him, who listened to you then huh? Don’t throw this all back in my face now, don’t you fucking dare.”

“I’m not trying to-“

“Well you are,” you cut him off,

He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, “look I don’t know what the hell you’re on this afternoon but-“

“What the hell I’m on?” you scoff.

His face softens and so does his tone, “all this arguing we’re doing, it’s not us,” he says, “it never has been so are we really going to carry on this stupid fight?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Avery?” you ask, it’s petty but you didn’t feel like being mature in this moment

“This keeps circling back to her,” he sighs with an eye roll.

“You have spent the entirety of the morning with her,” I stated “again.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he says.

“Seriously?” I ask, my jaw hanging slack.

“What?”

“You know what, it doesn’t even matter,” you shake your head and begin to walk out.

“Sweetheart,” he says, lunging forwards to grab your arm. You spin around and can see the desperation seeping from his eyes.

“I’m going out,” you tell him harshly,

“Where?” he asks immediately.

“For a walk,” you shrug, going to turn again. But he holds you firmly in his grip.

“I’ll come with you,” he says.

“No, I need headspace right now,” you snap coldly.

“Okay, that’s fine,” he nods, eyes wide with understanding. You hated that he was being so nice when you were supposed to be mad at him, it wasn’t fair, “but at least take a bodyguard with you.”

“No,” you immediately say.

“Yes,” he argues back.

“I’m not one of you, Jameson,” you quip. You can see in his face that pains him but you’re too furious to care, “people aren’t coming for me, I’m not taking a bodyguard.”

“Look I’m sorry about before but-“

“It’s not about you Jameson,” you yell, “I just need a walk.”

“Okay, but I’m still sorry and please baby, take a bodyguard with you,” he begs.

“I’m not going to,” you reply, “I need to be alone.”

“Fine, okay then,” he shrugs, pretending not to care, “yeah fine, go have fun in nature or something.”

“I will,” you snap, charging out, slamming the door behind you.

***

You start walking with no intention of going anywhere. In a headspace of anger, your pace is swift and dominant. You needed air, you needed a clear head, you needed to get away. Bringing a bodyguard felt claustrophobic. You didn’t want another person breathing down your neck. You just needed to be alone for a while. A million and one thoughts swarm your mind. He probably complained about you to Avery, you think, kicking a rock violently. He’s probably with her right now, telling her what an annoying, selfish, jealous person you are and she’s probably comforting him. The thought of it makes your stomach squeeze.

It was getting darker and colder by the second. In your rage you’d forgotten to bring a hoodie and now you’re absolutely freezing. The street lights flicker on and you suddenly realise you have no idea where you are. You’re cold, alone, lost and a little hungry. You pray it doesn’t start to rain. You get out your phone quickly to look on google maps, but two red words flash up: no connection. Great. Just when you thought today couldn’t get any worse. You wish you hadn’t left the house now, but didn’t know which way to turn to walk back. You walk around the corner of a tall white building, hoping to see a signpost nearby.

That’s when you notice the footsteps of someone behind you. You turn absentmindedly to see a stranger dressed in all black clothing. You couldn’t properly see their face or decipher whether they were a man or woman. Feeling a little sceptical, you choose to cross to the other side of the road, trying to shake or anxious feelings that were creeping in. You spin the ring on your finger, trying to breathe in and out slowly. You side glance at the figure a few times to see that they’re still on the opposite side of the road. You exhale and turn the corner, feeling stupid for getting so het up over nothing.

You hear more footsteps and paranoid you look behind. You feel sick. The mystery stranger is back. Panic seizes your throat and you walk a little faster, noting their feet also pick up the pace. You turn a second corner. So do they. A thousand and one questions flashed up in your mind. What did they want? Why were they following you? And more importantly how long had they been following you for? You’re breathing heavily, maybe too heavily. You don’t want them to know you’re scared.

You fumble to reach your phone, hurriedly finding your contacts. You click Jameson’s name but the call fails. Your eyes flick to your internet, still none. You try again, the cycle repeats. Tears well up in your eyes. You were hopeless, helpless and frightened to death. You begin to fiddle anxiously with your necklace trying to work out what to do next, but your mind was blank. You couldn’t think. The person was a good few meters behind you now. A silent tear of rolls down your cheek as you carry on walking forwards, pretending you’re going somewhere in hope the follower might get bored a leave. They did not. You bite back and audible sob and notice one bar lights up in the top right hand corner of your phone screen. You have one bar of internet and you’ve never felt more relieved. Your finger rushes to hit the call button. One ring and he picks up. It’s a miracle.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, a sense of relief and a smile in his voice.

“Jamie,” you say, your voice more panicked than you’d intended.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice is immediate and assertive but thick with anxiety. He can sense there’s something wrong, he knows.

“Jamie there’s someone following me,” you hyperventilate, the sharp sudden breaths hurting your chest.

“Where are you?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice shaky, “and I’m panicking.”

“Okay, don’t worry, just keep walking straight,” he instructs, “okay sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Just breathe,” he soothes, “I’m tracking your location.”

You exhale unevenly and carry on walking.

“Are you near any buildings?” Jameson asks, strategically. You can tell he’s concentrated.

“There’s a housing complex and a few shops across the street,” you describe.

“Good,” he replies, “cross the road and go into one of the shops and stay in there.”

“Okay,” you answer, jogging across the road, taking note of anything that might help Jameson find you.

“What’s the name of the shop you’re going to go into?” he asks, “it might help me track you a little faster.”

You step back to read the cursive white letters, “Betty’s,” you reply, stepping in.

“That’s it?” he confirms.

“That’s it,” you say, carefully stepping inside, seeing the follower cross the road in the refection of the shop window.

Your heart thuds in your chest as the little bell rings to announce your entrance in the shop. It was one of those little knick-knack type shops, small but compact. You pretend to admire a china tea set.

“Are you inside?” Jameson asks, his voice washing some sort of comfort over you.

“Yes,” you say quickly, subconsciously tracing the tablecloth deign with your index finger.

“Have they followed you inside?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, though you haven’t looked up, the shop bell definitely has not rung since your arrival. You are the only customer in this shop. You look up and see them standing outside, you catch their eye and fear flicker through you as you quickly turn away, jolts of sheer nauseating panic runs up and down your abdomen, “Jamie they’re waiting outside, oh god Jameson they’re waiting outside, for me to come out, oh god.”

“Hey! Hey! You have the stay calm,” he says sharply but kindly, “as long as you’re in there you’re safe and I’m on my way now.”

“You found where I am?” you breathe, sounding too much like a child than you care to admit.

“I’m getting into the car as we speak,” he replies.

He’s coming. You tell yourself. You’re going to be okay. You say in your head.

“Stay on the line with me,” you blurt out, “please.”

“Of course baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he says, the concern in his voice made you yearn to be in his arms.

The other end of the phone goes silent except for the sound of a car engine, gently groaning in motion. You try to distract yourself by admiring the little collection of ceramic mouse figurines and try to give all of them a name. That’s when you catch the stranger in your peripheral.

“Jameson I’m scared,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “I’m really scared.”

“I’m coming, just hang in there okay,” he comforts “breathe for me.”

“Jameson,” you exhale, your hands becoming increasingly more restless.

“Hey, sweetheart, take a breath with me okay?” he says, “together?”

“Together,” you nod, despite the fact that he can’t see you, but somewhere deep down you know he knows you’re nodding.

“In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?” he replies.

I’m through your nose and out through your mouth. You repeat the motion over and over with him over the phone, until you’re bored.

“I’m nearly there,” he mentions after a while.

“You promise?” you say, your breath hitching.

“I promise, just stay where you are,” he says calmly.

“Okay,” you reply.

“Sorry honey we close at 11:00,” comes a voice.

It makes you jump at first, as you yelp in surprise at the old woman beside you. Where had she appeared from? You drop your phone and it crashes to the floor. You realise for the first time how tightly you’d had it pressed to the side of your face as the cold air rushes to that spot and you feel the sticky sweat. You scramble to pick up your phone.

“I’m fine,” you reassure Jameson quickly, before turning the the woman, “sorry, would I be able to stay a few more minutes?”

She glances disapprovingly at you and then her watch, “I don’t think so.”

“It won’t be long, I promise,” you rush.

“I’m sorry but I have to lock up now,” she shakes her head and waves the keys between her fingers.

“Just until my boyfriend gets here,” you try again, desperation slicing through your tone.

“You’re not purchasing anything and it’s closing hours,” she replied sternly, “I need to lock up.”

“Please,” you beg.

“Store policy I’m afraid,” she shrugs flatly.

“I’ll but the whole damn place of you let me stay,” you exclaim, not really sure why the sentence left your mouth but it was too late to take it back now.

“This place isn’t for sale,” she says sourly with pursed wrinkled lips.

“Not literally,” you sigh, “look I’ll make a purchase.”

“No purchases after 11:00,” she responds, blunt as a baseball bat.

“But you just said-“

“We’re closed,” she snaps.

“Please just let me stay for five minutes,” you ask, hoping by some miracle she’ll agree.

“I really can’t do that,” she sighs, with an almost apologetic look on her face “I’m sorry.”

“Two minutes?” you try to compromise.

She stares through you, “I’m going to call the police.”

“There’s someone out there following me outside,” you burst, “so please, if you’re going to call the police on anyone, do it on them.”

The woman gently cocks her head to see the mysterious figure outside the window, her eyes widen by the tiniest fraction and she stares back at you. You wonder what she’s thinking. She chews her lip thoughtfully for a while and then finally replied, “there’s a back way out, I can take you through to there.”

“Thank you,” you exhale in relief.

She walks hurriedly walks away and you follow her, ending up at the very back of the shop. It couldn’t be seen from the window, but how long would it take for the follower to realise? Not long enough, you pray, hoping Jameson would arrive in time. There is a small green door with a lacy translucent curtain across the window.

“Here,” she nods towards it, “get home safe.”

“Thanks,” you say gratefully.

You almost trip out of the back door but managed to stabilise yourself, the old woman slams to door and it nearly clips your heals. You quickly press your phone back to your ear, realising Jameson is still on the line.

“Jamie?” you say.

“I’m still here,” he replies, reading your mind, “Betty’s a bitch.”

You choke on your own spittle, “what?”

“Betty,” he states as if it’s obvious.

“Betty?” you question, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Well I assume it’s her name,” he says, you could practically hear him shrug, “the woman who just kicked you out of her shop.”

“Oh, you heard all of that?” you say.

“I did,” he confirms, “but I’m two minutes away now.”

“Two minutes?” you check, hope returning your voice.

“Yeah,” he confirms gently.

“I’m still at the back,” you mention, “but I’ll walk to the front to meet you.”

“Okay,” he replies, “I’m so close sweetheart, don’t worry.”

“Okay I-“

All the air is knocked from your lungs as you turn the corner and someone grabs your shoulders and it’s so sudden you forget to scream. Fear runs cold and thick through your veins. You can’t move. The grip is strong and foreign, their hands are callous and your arms ache the longer you’re in their hold. Paralysed, you fail to struggle free. It all happens in a blur. You feel yourself being thrown to the side and you land on the pavement with a hard thump after rolling over your ankle. Pain seizes through it and you bite back a yelp. You look up, struggling to your feet and see Jameson has arrived.

Jameson. Jameson. Jameson.

He’s fighting the mysterious follower who you can now see is man. He’s a few inches taller than Jameson and has much more muscle but Jameson is quicker, more agile. You wish you could help him but the searing agony deriving from your ankle would’ve only made him slower. So you’re now just watching. It’s a tête-a-tête of frantic hits and blocks, all scarily aggressive. The look in Jameson’s eyes is not one you recognise, it’s like the green had been frosted over with ice. The follower lunges at him suddenly and an audible gasp escapes your lips. He has Jameson in a headlock. You stumble forwards, ready to attack him from behind when Jameson twists the man’s arms in an awkward direction, leaving him vulnerable. In the split second Jameson knees him in the stomach and begins to punch him repeatedly.

Jameson’s jaw is clenched, his hair is ragged and wild. A flow of crimson red liquid falls from one nostril and from a new wound just above his eyebrow. His eyes are fierce and gleaming, like a predator on its prey. You’re not sure you know who this man is, he’s not Jameson, he’s a mutation, a weapon, a unrecognisable being.

“Jamie,” you murmur, your voice shaking. You can’t stop yourself, you’re too scared.

He can’t hear properly, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. He carries on punching and punching but the follower seems to be cold out.

“Jameson stop! You’re scaring me!” you yell, fear in your throat but fire in your belly.

He looks up and he freezes, all but his hands that are shaking from the adrelenline rush. He looks down at his bloodied knuckles to the limp figure on ground, then back to me again. He can see the fright in my features that I’m so desperately trying to conceal.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says, “it’s okay, let’s go home.”

“Is he dead?” you say, the words so much harsher than you intended.

“No,” he shakes his head gently, “just knocked out, I promise.”

“I-“ you can’t finish the sentence.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs tentatively, wrapping an arm around you to still your trembling torso.

“I’m fine,” you say, trying to sound strong, but synthetic strength only made you sound weaker.

“You’re not fine,” he shakes his head.

“Let’s just get out of here,” you sigh, then look at him with sparkling eyes, “please?”

“Of course,” he says, concern bleeding across his features.

You begin to walk but have to bite your lip as pain rips through your ankle with weight pressing down on it.

“What wrong?” Jameson asks, his reaction instant and lightning fast.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, trying to carry on without displaying the pain.

But he’s too vigilant for his own good, “are you hurt?”

“No, it’s fine,” you reply, in denial, “I’m fine.”

You’ve found that things are easier to believe if you say them out loud. Unfortunately not in this case.

“Where?” he asks, stopping still, pressing gently down your arms to check for tentative pressure points.

You pull away, “Jamie I’m-“

“Where?” he asks firmly, giving me that look.

“I just rolled over my ankle,” you sigh, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Do you want me to carry you?” he offers.

“No,” you say quickly, too quickly.

The truth was, you did want to be carried. The thought of being in his protective arms, pressed up against his chest was very appealing. But just like he could see your winces and hear your sharp breaths in, you notice his. The fight hadn’t been easy on him, no matter how stubbornly he tries to hide it.

“Just support me and I’ll support you,” you reply.

“I don’t need support,” he says.

You stare at him, “you don’t have to be the knight in shining armour with me, I thought you’d stopped that.”

You’d made a pact at the start of your relationship that Jameson couldn’t play that role. You were there for each other, it wasn’t one or the other.

“Fine,” he grits through his teeth, “we’ll support each other.”

You both walk, labouring, limping and leaning on one another. In the silence of it all you have time to think about all that had happened, a chances you hadn’t previously had with your mind always preoccupied on something else. A tidal wave of guilt almost drowns you.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out suddenly, feeling all of a sudden emotional, as tears run down your face.

You didn’t realise how much yours been keeping it in, your fear, your pain, your guilt, your sorrow.

“Hey, shhhh,” he soothes, caressing your cheek, “shhh shh stop that now, hey, hey.”

“I shouldn’t have left,” you shake your head, “I shouldn’t have got so angry and walked so far alone and it was dark-“

“Y/n, breathe,” Jameson murmurs, “I’m not angry, it’s not your fault, I’m just glad you’re safe now, okay? I would never let him hurt you, you know that right?”

You nod.

“Let’s get to the car and then we can go home, okay?” he suggests softly.

“Okay,” you murmur in response.

He wraps his arm back around your shoulders and holds your hand with the other, steering you towards his car. He walks around to your door, looking over his shoulder cautiously, making sure you are in and safe before he thinks of himself. You’ve never felt safer in a car, your back pressed up against the seat. Your leg bobs up and down uncontrollably, even when your try to stop it. Seems the adrenaline had gotten to you more than you’d thought.

Jameson is swift to get into the driver’s seat and start the car. He silently places his hand on your upper thigh to still the shaking. The warmth of his familiar touch relaxes some of the built up worry in your chest. One knot has been untied from the incomprehensible ball.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod numbly. You didn’t reply with words in fear that you’d spill out the truth. Lying to Jameson was a challenge.

“Stupid question,” he mumbles, “of course you’re not.”

“I think I’m still trying to process what just happened,” you murmur, not a complete lie. You’d only processed parts.

“Okay, that’s fine, take as long as you need,” he says reassuringly, “I’m here if you want to talk.”

You nod again. Then take a breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, choked up with emotion, “I’m sorry for fighting, I don’t know why I get so annoyed it’s just-“

“It doesn’t matter, all that matters is that you’re safe,” he tells you gently.

“Safe,” you repeat, the word has an odd texture on your tongue.

“You are safe,” Jameson replies firmly.

“I am safe,” you repeat, believing it a little more.

***

The two of you had gotten back to Hawthorne House late. No one was around so no questions were asked. But whilst you showered and changed Jameson insisted on getting the security team on it and you didn’t object. You join Jameson in your shared room after your shower, he’s already waiting with open arms. You clamber into the bed and fall onto his chest. The smell of him indescribably addictive. He wraps his arms around your torso and you wince, tenderness spreading across the tops of your arms and upper back.

“What hurts baby?” he asks, eyebrows knotted with worry.

“Nothing,” you reply, shrugging the pain off.

He looks at you, “you don’t have to lie to me.”

You’re silent for a few beats but then finally murmur, “my arms.”

“Let me see,” he says.

“It’s okay-“

“Let me see,” he whispers, sending a hot shiver down your spine. 

You slowly slip of your jumper and expose the rounded bruises from the follower’s fingers. You’d discovered them moments ago in the bathroom, it must’ve been from where he’d grabbed you. You can’t see Jameson’s face but judging by the thick blanket of tense air that had enveloped your surroundings, you have a good idea of what he’s thinking.

“He did this?” he asks, tracing every bruise so delicately it nearly tickles.

“Jamie he grabbed me,” you explain.

“I’ll kill him for laying a finger on you,” he spits, a foreign violence in his tone you weren’t sure you liked.

“Don’t say that,” you say before you can stop yourself.

“What?” he looks at you in wild disbelief.

“Talk of killing him,” you close your eyes, “you’re not a murderer.”

He opens his mouth.

“Don’t you dare argue with me,” you snap, a raw intensity in your voice. You struggle to recall where you found it.

Silence you like a car hits roadkill. Swiftly and out of nowhere with a sickening thud.

“You know you scared me back there,” you murmur, meeting his eyes shyly.

“Me?”

“When you were punching him…” you trail off, “you looked so angry.”

“I was angry” he retorts, “no one should do that, especially not to you. Never to you.”

“Yeah but I really thought you might…” you stop yourself.

“I might what?” he urges you to continue.

“I don’t know,” you say trying to brush it off, “it doesn’t matter.”

“No it does,” he replies, “you thought I might kill him right?”

“It just wasn’t you punching that guys, it wasn’t my Jameson,” you murmur.

“Your Jameson doesn’t protect you,” he yells and you flinch slightly.

You don’t meet his eye, “no, not like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just…” he sighs, “I never would’ve forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”

“It would’ve been my fault for storming off like that, god I’m so stupid,” emotion rises thick in your throat.

“Hey, stop beating yourself up about this,” Jameson says, “it was my fault in the first place.”

“No it wasn’t-“

“Yes it was, let’s just forget about this okay,” he insists.

“But what if he comes back? What if he knows where I am? What did he want with me Jamie? What if-“

“It’s all going to be sorted okay, we have so many staff on it right this second,” he says tracing the outlines of your knuckles, “you just need to breathe.”

“I am breathing,” you grit through your teeth.

“What’s worrying you then?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you reply, biting back a sob.

He senses the emotion, “come here.”

You practically collapse into his arms, keeping your tears at bay just barely. There’s something about being in his arms, against the warmth of his body that made the bad things go quiet for a second, that stopped the overwhelming voices in your head, that silences your thudding heart. But even now, things were unusually playing on your mind, despite the comfort.

“I don’t know Jamie,” you murmur into his chest, “I’m scared and exhausted and anxious and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Let me help you,” he whisper, gently running his fingers through your hair.

“I don’t think you can,” you mumble, your eyes grappling to stay open.

“I will find a way,” he says, you almost laugh at his stubbornness.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you reply, your voice breaking, “I don’t know anything bad to happen.”

“You’re not going to lose me and I won’t let anything bad happen,” Jameson kisses the top of your head, “I promise.”

“I don’t feel safe,” you admit.

“What’s making you feel unsafe baby?” he asks, aching concern in his voice.

“Before today I’d never even imagined potentially being kidnapped and it just happened today,” you ramble, “and that means there’s so many other things that I couldn’t ever have imagine that might happen.”

“If we spend our whole lives in fear of what might happen we’d forget to live,” Jameson says.

You meet his emerald eyes and try not to melt, “I’m scared.”

“There’s no need to be,” he comforts, “I’m here.”

“You promise?”

“Always,” he says. His voice is so sure, so strong. It almost makes you believe.

“And you’re not going anywhere?”

“Not anywhere without you,” he grins lopsidedly, the real Jameson shining through making your cheeks tint a pale pink.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, the residing guilt flowing back in.

“If you apologise one more time I’m going to do a lyrical dance routine to ‘hot stuff’ only dressed in sequinned hot pants and a top hat,” he says.

“I think I’d quite like to see that,” you can’t help but smile, “I should apologise more often.”

He chuckles softly and kisses the top of your head. You nuzzle into the nape of his neck and allow one tear to slip from the under your mask. Just one.

“I’ve got you baby and I’m not letting go,” Jameson whispers.

“Please don’t let me go,” you murmur, sounding as small as a child.

“I’m not, never ever,” he murmurs, kissing your nose, then cheeks and then a soft kiss on your lips.

You smile, a fluttery feeling in your chest and you kiss him back. His hands snake around your waist, the tentative touch making you tingle a little. You wish you could just focus on Jameson and nothing else but the problem was the scene kept replaying in your head. The man grabbing your shoulders, the bruises left on your skin, the smell of his cologne in your hair. He was everywhere.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s okay,” Jameson soothes, “you’re safe now.”

It’s only then you notice how your entire body is shaking, your bones rattling together. You try to stop but you can’t. He brings you into deeper his arms and holds your quivering limbs together. You wonder if he let go you’d fall apart all together.

***

You didn’t go to school the next day, instead you stayed curled up in Jameson’s arms as he gently traced spirals across your back with his index finger.

You can’t remember the last time you’d felt so in love.

***

Thursday rolls around far too quickly and you know you have to go back. Word about the stalker had been kept quiet but you know you couldn’t stay under your duvet forever. No matter how badly you wanted to. So you wake up early and take your time getting ready. Jameson sleeps like the dead all the way through it, even when you blow dry your hair. You meet Xander who is already at breakfast, eating muffins. You’d promised the week before you’d come and observe his biology project for him, so he could have a second opinion and you didn’t want to break that promise.

“You know you really didn’t have to come,” he says, still chewing, “after you know…”

“I want to Xand, really,” you say, “I can’t avoid it forever and I want to see your project.”

“If you’re sure?” he checks, with an eyebrow raise.

“I’m sure,” you nod, “I swear.”

“Well then, have a muffin or two and then we’ll be on our way,” he grins, handing me one from the plate in the centre.

“Roger that sir,” you smile back, saluting him as you take a bite.

***

School was difficult that day, not the content, just the energy. The problem was you had none. And it was one of those long modified timetable days where your first break of the day was lunch and it wasn’t even until 2:00pm. That in itself was a mood killer. On top of that you couldn’t get the follower out of your head. The events played on some sort of endless loop in your head. You wonder who it might be, why they might have been following you of all people. It was known you were dating Jameson but not that known. Apparently, according to Xander, Oren had been put on high alert and Alisa was working on finding their identity. That should have brought you solace. It didn’t.

But the more you thought about it the more your realised that part of you selfishly didn’t mind that it has happened too much because last night you’d felt more connected to Jameson than you had in forever. It had been a while since it had just been the two of you, no mysteries, no arguments, no Avery. Yesterday had solely been the two of you, all day. Just in the presence of one another but, at school, you hadn’t seen Jameson all morning, seen as you’d left for school early with Xander but he had sent you a string of text messages that you only see at first on your very late lunch break.

morning sweetheart

are you okay??

I know you left early with Xand but I’m still worried about you

text me for ANYTHING okay??

I love you xx

And then an hour later…

you still haven’t text back

are you okay??

I bribed the woman at the front desk for your schedule so you’re probably in class right now

unless you’re not!!

just answer me when you can okay

I love you

Then in the next hour…

ARE YOU OKAY!?

I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN THE HALLWAYS

PLEASE ANSWERRR!!!!

I love you ;)

You almost laugh at the cuteness of it all. You type a couple of messages in response incase he bribed the headteacher to let him use the announcement speaker to find you next.

I’m fine Jamie, don’t worry

late lunch break sorry I couldn’t text sooner

They bleep through one after the other, sending through.

meet you after school for our plans

You close your phone quickly and get to the next class, holding your books tightly to your chest. The next few periods better go fast.

***

They didn’t go fast. In fact every millisecond felt like an hour, the day seemed endless. You get out of class and don’t pass Jameson in any hallways yet again sk decide to go to your usual meeting spot after school. You send him a quick message.

waiting outside business studies

You wait for him by the curb. One minute passes, he’s been a minute late before, many times. So you figure it’s okay, leaning on the wall behind you. Five minutes go by next and most kids are leaving or have left the school premises. Maybe his class has run over, your brain suggests. Then it is ten minutes, barely anyone is walking out. The odd person, sure, but never Jameson. You begin to wonder where he might be. Detention? No, he always finds a way out of those. Basketball court? No, he doesn’t like to play with the other guys. Classroom? No, he wouldn’t spend longer than he had to in the school. You sigh, ten minutes isn’t that long after all. Maybe you’re overreacting. Still, you send him another text ‘hey, are you nearly here?’ Half an hour passes. That’s when you get really confused. He should definitely be here by now. Slowly you wonder down several hallways, checking your phone for any messages, calls or voicemails, but there are none. Few students are around and every time you look into a classroom Jameson isn’t there. You make your way back to your original spot, incase he turned up. Forty minutes pass and you try his phone for the last time, ringing him rather than just texting but it goes straight to voicemail. So you resort to calling Xander, hoping he’ll be able to help and ease the tightening knot of worry growing in your chest. There is only two rings.

“Hello y/n,” Xander’s cheerful voice says down the other end, “is there any reason you’re phoning the best Hawthorne on this fine afternoon?”

“Yeah, sorry Xand,” you reply, “but have you seen Jamie anywhere?”

“Don’t be sorry,” he tells me, “and I think I saw him come in earlier, I just presumed you were with him.”

Too many juxtaposed emotions hit you at once. Relief, he’s okay, he’s alive, he’s at home. Hurt, he left without you, abdomen or forgot the plans you had. Annoyance, he’d left without sparing you a second thought.

“No,” you mutter, “I wasn’t.”

“You sound annoyed,” Xander comments.

“I’m fine, sorry Xand,” you reply, putting some more life into your voice to wash away and tense notes, “it’s been a long day.”

“Don’t I know it,” he sighs, “but hey it’s the weekend now, fancy a game of strip bowling when you get back?”

Strip bowling was one of your favourites, mostly because you were very good at it and barely had to strip and also because Jameson usually ended up in his underwear. Xander must’ve sensed the false happiness in your voice and suggested it to be nice.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you say, trying to let him down gently. You did appreciate the gesture, but the thought of playing stop bowling right now did not match the mood.

“Yeesh your day was that bad huh?” he asks softly, playing it off as jokey.

“I’ll be okay,” you reassure him quietly.

“I’m here you know,” he reminds you.

“Thanks Xander,” you reply, but don’t elaborate. You didn’t feel like talking right now.

“Talk to Jamie, he’ll know how to make you feel better,” he suggests sweetly.

You smile through your pain, “yeah, I’ll give it a go.”

You hang up and exhale slowly, he doesn’t know that Jameson is your problem.

***

You get back to Hawthorne house about twenty minutes later. It sounds relatively empty, though it always does, seen as there were so many possible places for people to be. You wander through the entrance, trying to think where Jameson might be. You hear footsteps approaching and spin around to see a blonde in a suit. Wrong brother.

“Have you seen Jameson?” you ask him before he can greet you.

“He was upstairs earlier, with Avery,” Grayson replies.

All the air is knocked from your stomach, “Avery?”

“You didn’t know?” his expression flashed for a fraction of a second into something between guilt and shame before it is composed.

“No…” you trail off.

“Oh,” he replies, with an unreadable expression back on.

“Well thanks anyway,” you say with a synthetic smile.

You walk away quickly before he can respond, looking up with glossy eyes. You ascend the stairs quickly and don’t look back. You feel you need to see for yourself did this is true. But where would he take Avery? You could only hope it wasn’t the roof where the two of you stargazed, that would hurt like hell. You trail down a hallway where voices are coming from and stumble upon a door that is ajar. Inside, Jameson talking to Avery. Your stomach rolls uncomfortably. He’s positioned barely a foot a way and he’s laughing. He looks so beautiful when he laughs, but now it’s ugly. It’s like biting into something sweet and getting a sour taste. It’s not the fact that she made him laugh, it’s the fact he’s laughing like he laughs when he’s with you. That’s the thing that cuts deep. The way his eyes are sparkling and his smile is wide and carefree, you thought he reserved those kind of smiles only for you.

Clearly not.

You turn your back on the scene and rush to your bedroom. You swing the door open forcefully and then slam it shut behind you. So he’d ditched your plans for her. Great. You sigh as you collapse down on your bed feeling an unwelcome tightness squeezing across your chest. Tears well up in your eyes. You didn’t like to cry, you rarely ever did. But right now, you couldn’t do anything about it. The tears just flowed down your cheeks and your whole body shook with each sob. Your heart physically ached, something you hadn’t thought was possible until this moment. A searingly mournful agony rippling through the left side your the chest. You felt so vulnerable, so exposed. You didn’t stop crying the blanket was soaked through, weighted with wet emotion and your throat was so raw it was numb.

***

You binge movies for the rest of the evening, the only feeling left in your system was anger, you’d cried all the sadness out. You felt so done with feeling shit and binging movies gave you that outlet of doing nothing, thinking nothing and feeling nothing. Exhaustion is beginning to win the ongoing battle between the two of you when you hear soft footsteps approaching. Jameson had been practically out of your mind the whole evening, Disney movies are a good distraction, but that is until he walks in. You hear as the door handle turns and he enters. Your eyes flicker to the clock, it’s just gone midnight.

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmurs, taking his suit jacket off and undoing his top button, “you’re up late.”

“What do you want?” you ask, eyes glued to Elsa’s performance of ‘let it go’ on the tv screen.

He immediately notices something is off and walks over, “woah, hey, what’s wrong?”

“Oh so now you care?” you scoff, looking him dead in the eye.

“What did I do?” he asks quickly, cluelessly.

“You are unbelievable,” you exclaim, switching the movie off before hurling the control across the room.

Jameson stares in disbelief, “why are you so pissed off?”

“You don’t know why I’m annoyed?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“No…” he replies hesitantly, like he’s treading on egg shells.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,”

“Oh my god,” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head, “tell me you’re joking, please.”

“I’m not joking,” he says, the desperation and worry evident in his tone.

“Do you even know what we were supposed to do today?” you ask with a withered look.

A moment of realisation strikes and you notice as his eyes widen and his jaw drops a little.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I forgot,” he says, actually looking guilty. You almost feel sorry for him.

“Yeah I know,” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.

“There’s just been a lot going on lately and with the following and then I was days behind on the thing with Toby and-“

“Am I some sort of burden,” you retort, eyebrows raised.

“What? No! I never said that,” he exclaims, his voice raised.

“Okay,” you shrug, nonchalantly. The small display of passive aggression would get under his skin, prickling it like an unscratchable itch.

“Last time we argued it ended with you being followed, I don’t want you in that situation again,” he says, his voice dominant and definitive.

“You’re making this about you!” you yell, rage blinding your vision, “what you want, for me!”

“Oh so you want to be followed, stalked?” he asks, with a forced cruel laugh.

“That’s not what I said,” you snap, eyes narrowed.

“Sounds like it,” he bites back, the bitterness in his voice hurting you far more than you cared to admit.

You don’t say anything for a long while but eventually cut through the long silence, “I even text you about it,” you say quietly.

“What?” he replies, head cocked to the side, confused.

“About tonight,” you say, raising your hands into the air with an eye roll.

“No you didn’t!” he yells back, defensively.

“Yes I did,” you scream.

“Look, this is the last message I got,” he exclaims, shoving his phone’s bright screen into your face.

‘late lunch break sorry I couldn’t text sooner’

You stare at the message and then quickly open your phone to double check. Your message hadn’t gone through, you look up glaring at him. You were mad he didn’t remember, mad the message never went through and just mad in general.

“It didn’t go through, I couldn’t help it,” he defends.

“You still forgot,” you press on, getting mor annoyed by the second, “I shouldn’t have to remind you that you have plans with your girlfriend.”

“Look, I’m really sorry,” he replies and you can see the meaning in his face, “we’ll reschedule.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore,” you tell him nonchalantly. You know you’re being petty, but you can’t help it.

“Oh common y/n,” he says.

“No I don’t,” you shrug. He’d messed it up, that opportunity was passed now.

“Look I just needed to-“

“What you needed to do was stick to your word, what you needed to do was remember when you had things plans, what you needed to do was think before you acted,” you say in a low voice, interrupting him, “but you did none of that.”

“I can’t have a life now?” he scoffs, growing irritated, “that’s not you.”

“What’s not me?” you scowl.

“This, right now,” he says, “you’re being so controlling!”

You raise your eyebrows, almost laughing, “controlling? You started this argument!”

“No I didn’t!” he argues.

“You know what, if you didn’t want to have it out then you shouldn’t have asked why I was angry,” you roll your eyes, “so just forget about it.”

“Oh would you STOP doing that,” he yells.

“What?”

“The whole ‘forget about it’ thing, it’s so fucking annoying,” he retorts, anger creeping up in his tone.

“You know what else is annoying?” you ask him, “when your boyfriend is hanging out constantly with some random girl who inherited all his grandfather’s money, that’s really fucking annoying.”

He’s silent. Nothing to say for once. No witty reply, no deflection, nothing. His face is impossible to read, blank.

“Hang on, that’s not quite the right word,” you continue, “what about aggravating, demoralising, hurtful-“

“You know I never would’ve pinned you as a jealous possessive girlfriend,” he shakes his head, with a cruel chuckle.

“I’m not!” you snap, “but you lied Jameson, why did you feel the need to lie!?”

“Lie?”

“You told me a few days ago you’d climbed a wall and if I hadn’t known any better I would’ve believed you,” you say, “but you weren’t climbing a wall, you were with Avery.”

“This,” he says exasperatedly, “this is exactly the reason I lied.”

“What?” you ask.

“This overreaction,” he explains, making some weird hand gesture.

“I’m overreacting?” you scoff, as your eyebrows shoot to your forehead.

“Completely,” he exclaims.

“So let me just get this straight,” you begin, “you’d have never pinned me as a jealous possessive girlfriend but you lied to me about ditching our plans to spend time with another girl because you were worried about an overreaction? Right, that makes sense.”

“I’m sorry,” he exhales, “I’m sorry.”

“No you can’t just say sorry and then think it’s all going to be okay,” you shake your head, “sorry is just a stupid word, it means nothing.”

“I didn’t mean to say what I said just now and I am sorry that I hurt you,” Jameson says desperately, “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s not just that! You blew off our plans for her,” you yell with a sob, “so yeah that kind of fucking hurts.”

“Sweetheart I didn’t mean to-“

“Yeah well you did,” you laugh bitterly, aggressively wiping away your tears, “and I’m crying over it which is just stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he tells you gently.

“Yes it is stupid Jameson,” you snap, the tears only flowing thicker and faster, “I feel like an idiot.”

“You shouldn’t,” he insists.

“Well I do, I���m such an idiot. I’m an idiot for fighting with you, I’m an idiot for getting myself followed, I’m an idiot for thinking that someone could actually love me, I’m an idiot for not seeing the signs sooner and I’m an idiot for crying over it all now,” you snivel, roughly scrubbing your tear-stained cheeks.

“Woah, hey,” he says, “sweetheart I love you. Just you.”

“Well it doesn’t feel like it lately,” you say, choking back a sob desperate to leave your throat.

His face softens, “sweetheart…”

He reaches out to touch me but you flinch away. His gentle touch is only a reminder of the good person he is and how much you love him for it. And you can’t afford to fall for it, not again, the pain was too much.

“You’re hurting me Jamie,” you say, your voice breaking as you jab a finger to your heart, “this is hurting me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, as his eyes mellow.

“If you want to be with her I’d rather you just tell me,” you whimper, “it would save me the pain of all this back and forth and sneaking around and finding out. Just tell me straight.”

“I don’t want to be with Avery,” he says, “I never have.”

“You don’t look at me how you look at her,” you say bitterly, getting it off of your chest.

“You’re right I don’t,” he agrees. Your heart plummets, here it comes, the confession, the break up, the empty sorrys and eyes filled with tears. “I don’t look at you like I look at her, because I look at her like any other person on this planet, but when I look at you I’m looking at my world. And I’d sure as hell hope that differs from the look that I gave to everyone else.”

A wave of emotion coats your skin, soaking you through. His world. The words repeat over and over and over until you feel delirious.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” you whisper.

“Of course I do,” he sighs, “don’t you understand? I love you, it’s always been you, it will never not be you! You’re my person, you’re my other half, I was supposed to meet you and fall in love with you. You give me purpose and passion and so much more. When you called me the other night after our fight I’ve never been more frightened in my life, I was freaking out over here. I’ve never felt so panicked, so sick with the thought of someone being hurt. I’m in so love with you that I can’t even explain it and I can’t believe I led you to doubt it. Avery is a friend, I promise, she means nothing to me compared to you, trust me. How can I prove that to you?”

“I don’t know Jameson,” you shout, your head aching from this endless circle of arguments.

“Then marry me!” he yells, then his voice softens, “marry me.”

You freeze, every muscle in your body suddenly falling into a state of paralysis, “what?”

“You heard me,” he says, his expression too serious.

“Jameson,” you murmur, barely getting his name out.

“Marry me.”

a/n: I’m a sucker for fat dramatic impulse decisions (it’s a problem, you may have gathered from my more recent fics) SOZ GUYS 😘😘 anywayyysss the time frame is roughly (and I mean very ROUGHLY) based around chapters 11-13 of the Hawthorne brothers incase you were wondering

thanks for the req anon, so sorry again for the wait, hope you enjoyed the read 🤍🤍 if you made it to the end and didn’t DNF halfway through, well done!! can you guys tell I got way too carried away, this fic was so all over the place but I posted it anyway bc yolo

there will be no part 2!! sorry!! I really need a break from reqs… you decide how you answer 🤭🤭

TIG masterlist

[crappymixtape]

because of you • epilogue

PART I • PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 1k – a little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • E P I L O G U E 🎶 believer – piano version, SYML

❝ WE’VE BECOME ECHOES, BUT ECHOES ARE FADING AWAY, SO LET’S DANCE LIKE TWO SHADOWS, BURNING OUT A GLORY DAY ❞

Walking across the parking lot of Hawkins High with Steve Harrington’s hand in the back pocket of your jeans was a surreal feeling. Never in a million years did you think you’d be on speaking terms with him let alone dating him. You also didn’t think the world would end, so maybe being wrong was something to get used to.

Steve had a bag of clothes under one arm while you pulled a wagon of canned food and blankets behind you. It seemed like everyone was in need of something – shirts, coats, shoes, bread, cheese, shelter – and despite the way everyone had rallied against Eddie, they changed their tune quick after the news broke. Came together as a community to support each other through these unprecedented events.

The story came out that it had been a serial killer who’d murdered those poor kids, not Eddie, and it was all forgotten anyway the minute your little town suddenly turned into a war zone. Helicopters and tanks and soldiers, scientists and news crews from all over the nation. The ash hadn’t stopped falling since the Creel House and in the daylight the damage was so much worse than any of you had expected.

When Steve drove you home, it just simply wasn’t there. Swallowed up in one of four deep gashes splitting the earth at the seams. Your parents had survived, came back to see if maybe you’d go home to find them and tried to salvage whatever they could.

They’d sought shelter with your aunt on the other side of town, but Steve insisted you stay with him. Told you you’d have your own room and space and whatever you needed and when you expected a no, your parents surprised you with a yes, with relief. It was tight enough over at your aunt’s as it was and maybe it was better that way. With a friend – friend.

“Donations?” a volunteer asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“What?” you started, but Steve held up his bag.

“Yeah, yeah. Clothes, food, some blankets.”

“Great, that’s perfect. Clothes are on the tables at the far end of the cafeteria, food is being collected here in the quad and blankets go to the library,” the volunteer said and Steve thanked her with a small smile.

Even though you were bringing things to donate, it was a weird feeling knowing you’d likely be looking for things for you too. You wondered about everyone else. Wondered if they had lost everything too and hoped they hadn’t. Hoped they were all safe. The Wheelers, the Sinclairs, Max and Robin and Eddie–

“Holy shit–no way! Sweetheart, who’s that in your back pocket??”

As if summoned by your very thoughts, Eddie materialized at the bottom of the parking lot turning your cheeks cherry red, Steve’s hand still tucked into your jeans.

He gave Eddie a big grin and dipped down to press a kiss to your temple, “Shut up, Munson.”

“It’s Steve you idiot,” you snarked, lips tugged up in a little smile, no heat behind it and as soon as you passed the wagon off to a volunteer, your best friend was pulling you into a hug.

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured into your hair, holding you tight to his chest. His voice wobbled a little and it made your throat squeeze. He’d brushed with death last night, just the same as you, and feeling him here – really here – was like a big sigh of relief.

“Wayne okay?” you asked quietly and he nodded, curls tangling with yours.

“Yeah, thank fuck,” he exhaled, finally letting you go to rub at the back of his neck. “Trailer’s totaled though.”

“My place too,” you commiserated and Steve’s grin faded as his realized just how much had been at stake outside of the party, outside of Vecna.

“Listen,” he started, clearing his throat, “My parents checked in this morning to make sure I was alright, but aren’t coming home anytime soon. If you need a place to stay there’s plenty of room…” Steve jammed his hands in his pockets, unsure if he’d crossed a line or was breaking some unsaid rule, but Eddie grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into a hug too.

“Thanks, man! God, that’d be great. Promise Wayne and I aren’t messy, we’ll clean up and help with dinner and the trash and–”

“Eddie,” Steve laughed, giving the other boy’s shoulder a squeeze, “It’s okay, I’m sure you’re fine.”

You were positive your heart was going to burst, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in the last 24 hours – mostly because of these two idiots – and both boys noticed at the same moment.

Eddie frowned, worried, “Hey, hey, what’s up?”

“Oh–shit–you okay, Princess?” Steve asked, his words blending together with Eddie’s.

“No, I’m okay–” you sniffled, pressing your palms to your eyes, half-laughing at how stupid you felt, “–you two just suck.”

Both boys laughed, we love you, and Steve pulled you under his arm, “Hate to say it, but I think you’re stuck with us.” He shot Eddie a look and the other boy grinned.

“Yep. Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie gave you one of his too-charming winks, “can’t get out of this one.”

You huffed a laugh and buried your face into Steve’s chest. Warm like summer and the sun, like safe and home, and when you pulled away to push up onto your toes and catch his lips between yours a voice echoed across the quad.

“OH MY GOD–WHAT?? STEVE, WHAT THE HELL?? WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME YOU’RE DATING–”

“Oh, Christ–Robin! I’m right here, you don’t have to yell!”

[ I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF, THIS SCENE WAS SCREAMING AT ME LIKE ROBIN – YOU'RE WELCOME ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[sherewrytes]

↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader

REBLOGS HELP ENGAGEMENT

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

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

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

Mafia Au, street racer au, dark romance au

character lookbook

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

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

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Taglist: (you can comment to be added)

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

Chapter: Lost in da sauce

The following week was a blur of deadlines and classes for Y/n, her mind constantly drifting back to Toji and the cryptic words his uncle had said. She hadn’t seen Toji since that night at the shop, though she hadn’t been actively avoiding him either. He was an enigma, a tangle of contradictions she couldn’t quite unravel. And now, the small world she had been so carefully navigating—architecture projects, hanging out with Mei Mei and Shoko, balancing her coursework—felt too small to contain the storm of thoughts whirling in her mind.

It was late one evening, long after her last class, when she found herself once again outside the mechanic shop. The dim glow of the street lamps cast long shadows over the alleyways, the faint sounds of cars rushing by in the distance. She wasn't sure why she came—maybe part of her wanted answers, or maybe she just wanted to see him.

She stepped inside the shop, the familiar smell of grease and metal flooding her senses. It was quiet, too quiet for a place usually bustling with noise. The silence felt heavy, as though it carried the weight of secrets that were never meant to be spoken aloud.

"Y/n," Toji's voice cut through the stillness, pulling her from her thoughts.

She turned to see him standing by one of the cars he was working on, a lit cigarette between his lips, his tattoos catching the flickering light. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flicked over her, and she felt that familiar pull—dangerous, magnetic, and impossible to resist.

"You shouldn’t be here," Toji said, his voice low but not unkind. He flicked the ash from his cigarette, watching her with a careful intensity that made her stomach flip.

"Maybe I shouldn’t," she replied, stepping closer. "But I’m here anyway."

Toji’s lips quirked into a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly before setting it aside. "You’re looking for something. What is it?"

Y/n hesitated, the questions swirling in her mind bubbling to the surface. "I don’t know… answers? About you, about what you’re involved in."

He stiffened slightly at her words, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he sighed, running a hand through his hair, the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air between them.

"It’s complicated," he finally said, his voice rougher than usual. "You don’t need to get involved in this."

"I’m already involved, aren’t I?" Y/n shot back, her frustration bubbling over. "You can’t just kiss me and then act like I’m not going to ask questions, Toji. I’m not stupid."

Toji’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he moved toward her, his presence filling the space between them. He reached out, his hand brushing against her cheek, and despite her anger, she felt herself leaning into the warmth of his touch.

"You don’t understand, Y/n," he said softly, his thumb grazing her skin. "There’s a lot going on. Things that you’re better off not knowing. If you dig too deep, you won’t like what you find."

"Try me," she whispered, searching his face for any sign that he might let her in.

For a moment, the mask he always wore seemed to falter, something raw and vulnerable flashing in his eyes. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by the familiar stoic expression she had come to know.

"It’s not that simple," he muttered, stepping back, his hand falling away from her. He turned back to the car, as though using it as a shield to distance himself from her questions.

Y/n watched him for a moment, her heart aching with frustration. "So that’s it? You’re just going to shut me out?"

Toji didn’t look at her, his hands busy with the engine, but his voice carried an edge of finality. "It’s for your own good."

The words stung, and for a brief moment, Y/n considered storming out, letting the door slam behind her and walking away from whatever this was. But then she thought back to the way he had looked at her that night, the way his touch had lingered just a little too long, and the way his kiss had spoken of more than just lust. There was something deeper there, something he wasn’t saying.

"Toji," she said, her voice softer now, "I don’t need you to protect me. I just need you to be honest with me."

Toji stopped working, his hands resting on the car as he finally turned to face her. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto hers, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for, Y/n," he murmured, stepping closer to her once again. His presence was overwhelming, a mix of danger and something she couldn’t quite name.

"Then tell me," she urged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let me understand."

Toji sighed, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette, lighting it with a flick of his lighter. He took a slow drag, exhaling the smoke before meeting her gaze again.

"My family," he began slowly, "they're not what you think. The Zenin name… it carries weight. My uncle… the one you met… he's involved in things that are better left unsaid."

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, the puzzle pieces slowly starting to click into place. She had always suspected something was off, with the way Toji moved, the quiet conversations, the subtle tension in the air whenever his uncle was mentioned. But hearing it out loud was different.

"You’re part of it, aren’t you?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Toji’s silence was all the confirmation she needed.

"It’s not by choice," he said quietly. "But it’s my responsibility now."

Y/n felt the weight of his words settle over her. This wasn’t just about some family business—it was about power, control, and danger. And yet, despite the growing sense of unease, she couldn’t walk away.

"And me?" she asked softly, meeting his gaze. "Where do I fit in all of this?"

Toji stepped closer, his hand once again finding its way to her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin. "You don’t," he said, his voice low. "And I’m trying to keep it that way."

Sukuna had been leaning against the wall, his sharp eyes scanning the room when he noticed Toji and Y/n standing close, lost in their own world. He smirked and nudged Gojo, who had been joking around nearby. "Look at that," Sukuna murmured under his breath, motioning toward the pair.

Gojo, ever the playful spirit, grinned mischievously as he watched Toji with Y/n. "Aww, how cute," he teased. But then something shifted in his gaze when he noticed a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye—the unmistakable presence of Toji’s uncle, looming in the background, watching intently.

Without hesitation, Gojo strolled over to Toji, giving him a light tap on the shoulder. His usual carefree tone was replaced with a more serious one as he spoke in code, something only Toji would understand. "Your uncle’s eyes are on you, bro. You know better."

The moment Gojo’s words sank in, Toji’s expression changed. His face hardened, the warmth and easy demeanor he had with Y/n disappearing almost instantly. He turned to her, his eyes colder than she had ever seen them before. The sudden shift made her stomach twist in confusion and discomfort.

“Toji, what’s going on?” Y/n asked, her voice small, unsure of what just happened.

Toji didn’t answer. His gaze lingered on her for a second too long, as if fighting some inner battle, but then he turned his back on her without another word. Mumbling something to Gojo under his breath, he walked away, his broad frame retreating toward his uncle, leaving Y/n standing there, stunned and hurt by the sudden coldness.

Gojo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced at Y/n, his usual playful demeanor returning, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Don’t take it personally. He’s got a lot on his plate," Gojo said, stepping closer to her.

Y/n’s brows furrowed, trying to make sense of what had just happened. "But why did he—"

"Come on," Gojo interrupted gently, his usual grin appearing on his face. "Let me drop you back home. Toji's… dealing with things." He reached out a hand to her, his easygoing nature trying to soften the blow of Toji’s sudden departure.

Y/n hesitated, her mind racing with questions, but she nodded, not wanting to be left alone in the strange atmosphere that had developed in the shop. As they walked toward Gojo’s car, Y/n glanced back once more, catching a glimpse of Toji standing beside his uncle, his back turned to her. Her heart ached, the warmth and connection they had shared moments ago now replaced with a chilling distance she couldn’t understand.

But as his lips ghosted over hers, and the heat between them flared once more, Y/n knew that keeping her out was the last thing he wanted to do. Y/n jumped into Gojo’s car, slamming the door with more force than she intended. Her mind was swirling with emotions—confusion, frustration, hurt—but most of all, she was angry. Toji’s sudden change in demeanor felt like a slap in the face, and the cryptic way everyone around him acted didn’t help.

As Gojo started the engine, Y/n couldn’t hold it in any longer. "What the hell was that, Gojo?" she demanded, her voice sharp and cutting through the tension. "You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on with Toji. What’s his deal? One minute he’s fine, the next, he’s acting like I’m nobody!"

Gojo kept his eyes on the road, his usual light-hearted nature fading into something more serious. "Y/n… it’s not my place to say," he replied, his voice lower than usual.

"Not your place?" she snapped. "You can’t be serious. I just watched him walk away from me like I’m nothing. And you’re telling me you’re not gonna give me anything?"

He sighed but didn’t take his eyes off the road. "Even if it were my place, you’re not part of that world. None of this is your business."

Y/n blinked, shocked by his bluntness. "Excuse me?" she said, her voice rising with disbelief. "Not my business? Are you seriously telling me that after everything I’ve seen—after everything you’ve let me be around—that I’m just supposed to sit here and pretend it’s not happening?"

Gojo finally glanced her way, his normally bright eyes dimmed with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before. "Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m saying."

Y/n’s anger flared even more at his calm response. "What the hell is wrong with you guys? Your whole crew acts like this—like you're in some secret world, and I’m just supposed to be okay with being left in the dark! I’m not stupid, Gojo. I see the tattoos, the scars, the whispers when Toji’s uncle shows up. You’re all playing some dangerous game, and I’m tired of being on the outside, acting like I don’t notice."

Gojo remained silent, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as she continued tearing into him. "Toji’s like two different people, and you all enable it. Sukuna, Geto, you—they’re all part of this mess, aren’t they? And now you’re telling me to stay out of it like I’m just some… some extra who doesn’t matter!"

Y/n stopped, breathing hard, her chest heaving with the weight of everything she had been holding in. The car’s engine hummed in the silence that followed. For a moment, Gojo said nothing, just staring at the road ahead.

Finally, he let out a slow breath, glancing at her briefly before turning back to the road. "You done?"

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What?" she asked, her tone still sharp.

"I said, are you done?" Gojo repeated, his voice calm, almost too calm. He didn’t seem phased by her outburst, didn’t flinch at her words. It was as if her anger had bounced off him, leaving no impact.

She stared at him, her frustration growing. "You’re seriously not going to say anything?"

Gojo let out a dry laugh, shaking his head slightly. "What do you want me to say, Y/n? That you’re right? That Toji’s life is messed up? That we’re all involved in some shit you can’t even begin to understand? You already know that. But you still think you can just dive into this world and everything’s gonna make sense? It’s not that simple."

She scoffed, crossing her arms, her body rigid in the passenger seat. "Then make it simple for me. Explain something, anything."

Gojo’s jaw tightened for a second. "Here’s the thing, Y/n," he said, his tone a little sharper now. "Toji’s got a lot going on—stuff that’s been building long before you came around. He’s got responsibilities, ones that come with a price. You walking into that? You wouldn’t survive it."

Her eyes narrowed, his words stoking the fire inside her even more. "I can handle myself. I don’t need you to protect me."

Gojo’s lips curled into a small, almost sad smile. "That’s what you think. But trust me, Toji’s world… it’ll swallow you whole. And once you’re in, there’s no getting out." He glanced at her again. "So yeah, maybe it’s best you stay on the outside."

Y/n’s hands clenched into fists in her lap, the weight of his words settling in, but they didn’t quiet the storm inside her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was happening, something that involved Toji on a deeper level. She wasn’t just going to accept his sudden coldness, or this brush-off from Gojo.

"So, what?" she finally asked, her voice calmer but no less firm. "I’m just supposed to forget about tonight? About what happened with Toji?"

Gojo didn’t answer right away, the silence between them thick with unspoken truths. After a long pause, he pulled up in front of her apartment building. The car stopped, and he turned to her, his eyes softer now but still serious.

"I’m telling you, Y/n, let this one go. Toji’s got his own demons to fight. You can’t save him from them."

Without another word, Gojo unlocked the doors. Y/n stared at him for a moment, her heart heavy with frustration and confusion. She knew there was more to the story, more that she wasn’t being told. But for now, she had no choice but to leave it where it was.

Reluctantly, she opened the door and stepped out, glancing back at Gojo one last time before closing the door behind her. As the car pulled away, disappearing down the street, Y/n stood there, feeling more lost than ever.

What the hell had she just gotten herself into?

Before Gojo could fully pull away, Y/n, fueled by anger and frustration, called out to him. "Gojo, wait." He stopped the car and looked over, raising an eyebrow.

"Give Toji a message for me," she said, her voice shaking with a mixture of hurt and resolve. "Tell him to just forget about me. I’m no longer interested."

Gojo’s expression shifted, his usual easygoing nature momentarily replaced by something more serious. He turned off the car engine, took a deep breath, and got out, rounding the car until he was standing in front of her. His gaze softened slightly as he leaned against the car, arms crossed. "Y/n, chill."

"Chill?" Y/n’s voice shot up as she stared at him in disbelief. "What the hell are you on? Are you serious right now?" Her eyes blazed, her patience worn thin. "Are you on crack or something?"

Gojo scoffed, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Nah, that shit ain't my thing." He held up his hands in mock surrender. "But I’m serious, you need to cool down. I get it, you’re pissed. Toji messed up, and this whole thing sucks, but saying you're 'no longer interested'?" He shook his head. "You don’t mean that."

Y/n crossed her arms, her jaw tightening. "I do. I’m tired of being left in the dark, tired of all the games, tired of you guys acting like I’m just some outsider who doesn’t deserve to know what’s going on. If he wants to treat me like I don’t matter, then fine. I’ll walk away."

Gojo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I can’t pretend to know everything that’s going on in Toji’s head. He’s a mess right now, I’ll give you that. But walking away? You sure that’s what you want?" His voice softened, his blue eyes searching hers for a sign that maybe she didn’t really mean it.

Y/n bit her lip, looking away for a moment. A part of her wanted to take it back, to hold onto the Toji she thought she knew, the one she felt drawn to despite everything. But then she remembered how cold he had been, how distant and dismissive. Her heart ached, but her pride refused to let her crumble.

"I’m sure," she finally said, though her voice faltered just slightly. "He made his choice, and now I’m making mine."

Gojo studied her for a moment, his smirk gone, replaced by something more genuine. "Alright," he said, nodding. "I’ll tell him, but don’t be surprised if he doesn’t take it well." He tilted his head, giving her a small smile. "Toji doesn’t exactly do well with people walking away."

Y/n huffed. "Well, he should’ve thought about that before treating me like nothing."

Gojo stood up straight, walking back around to the driver’s side. "Noted," he said as he got back in the car. "But just so you know… Toji’s not the type to forget. So don’t be too shocked if he comes knocking anyway."

With that, he revved the engine and shot her one last look, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Take care, Y/n."

And then he was gone, leaving her standing on the sidewalk, heart pounding, thoughts racing. Part of her wanted to believe that walking away was the right choice, that cutting ties with Toji Zenin would give her the peace she craved.

But deep down, she knew—Toji was far from done with her. And she wasn’t sure if she was ready to let him go either.

Gojo headed back to the shop, his usual carefree demeanor slightly more subdued. As he stepped inside, he was greeted by the sight of Sukuna pacing back and forth, his face twisted in frustration. Toji, meanwhile, sat in the corner, an air of fury radiating from him as he eyed Geto. His expression was a mixture of anger and annoyance, his jaw clenched so tightly that it looked like it might crack.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, mumbling under his breath, “His uncle at it again, huh?”

Sukuna shot him a glare but said nothing, continuing his agitated pacing. Gojo, not wanting to deal with Sukuna’s temper, walked over to Toji, who was nursing a busted lip. Toji had a joint hanging loosely from his lips, smoke curling lazily around his head as he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

The sight of him, beaten and bruised, sent a ripple of tension through Gojo. He knew Toji’s temper, knew how dangerous he could be when pushed to his limit. And from the look on his face, he was teetering dangerously close to that edge.

Gojo hesitated, glancing at the watch on his hand. He debated whether he should tell Toji what Y/n had said earlier, but seeing the state his friend was in, he quickly decided against it. The last thing Toji needed was another reason to spiral.

But as if fate had a cruel sense of timing, Toji’s phone buzzed on the table next to him. He picked it up and glanced at the screen, his eyes narrowing immediately.

It was a text from Y/n.

"I know Gojo’s too much of a punk to tell you what I said,so you better ask him"

Gojo watched as Toji’s expression darkened further, the tension in the room becoming almost unbearable. Toji’s hands tightened around the phone, his knuckles white as he read the message. His lips curled into a dangerous sneer, and without taking his eyes off the screen, he growled, "Tell me exactly what she said, Satoru."

Gojo, caught off guard, froze for a moment. “Huh?” He knew what Toji was referring to, but hoped playing dumb might defuse the situation.

Toji’s gaze flicked up to Gojo, his eyes cold and filled with a quiet fury. “Don’t play with me right now,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “Tell me what Y/n said.”

Gojo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he weighed his options. Toji wasn’t going to let this go. He might as well rip off the bandage. "She, uh, told me to give you a message. Said she’s done. Doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore." He hesitated, then added, "She told me to tell you to stay the fuck away from her."

The room went dead silent. Sukuna stopped pacing, and even Geto, who had been lounging nearby, straightened up, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

Toji’s expression hardened further, his eyes like shards of ice as he stared at the text on his phone. Slowly, he set the phone down, leaning back in his chair. His jaw worked as he bit down on the joint, smoke swirling around his head in a thick cloud.

"Stay the fuck away from her, huh?" Toji muttered to himself, his voice barely audible. He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

Gojo winced, knowing this was far from over. He could see the storm brewing in Toji’s eyes, the dangerous mix of rage and obsession that was simmering just beneath the surface. Y/n’s message hadn’t deterred him—it had only made things worse.

Toji took another drag from his joint, the smoke curling lazily as he exhaled. He stood up slowly, wiping the blood from his lip again, and glanced over at Sukuna and Geto. "We’re not done," he said, his voice cold and emotionless.

Gojo knew that look. It was the look of a man who had already made up his mind. Toji wasn’t about to let Y/n slip away—not without a fight.

And when Toji decided to fight for something, he never lost.

Gojo watched in silence as Toji stood up from the chair, his entire body taut with tension. He wasn’t moving in a rush, but there was something ominous in his slow, deliberate movements. He could feel the weight of what was coming; whatever Toji had planned next wasn’t going to end well for anyone. Especially Y/n.

Sukuna stopped pacing and turned to look at Toji, an eyebrow raised. "What’s the plan?" Sukuna asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it, like he was bracing himself for Toji's inevitable outburst.

Toji flicked his gaze toward Sukuna, his expression unreadable. "Same plan as always," he said, voice low. "Business first. Then I’ll deal with her."

Gojo swallowed, knowing better than to push further but couldn't help but feel unsettled. "And what does ‘deal with her’ mean?" Gojo asked, despite himself, hoping to at least gauge just how far gone Toji was.

Toji turned to face him fully, a cold smile playing on his lips. "It means I’ll remind her that no one walks away from me. Especially not someone like her."

Gojo’s blood ran cold at the calm way Toji said it, as if Y/n was just another problem to be solved. He wasn’t used to seeing Toji this far into his own head, consumed by the need to control something—or in this case, someone.

Sukuna leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. "You sure that’s a good idea, Toji?" he asked, his voice still laid-back, but his eyes sharp. "She already wants out. You think pushing her is gonna do you any favors?"

Toji’s jaw ticked, but his voice remained steady. "She thinks she can run. She thinks that by telling me to stay away, it’s over. But she doesn’t know me. Not yet."

Gojo could see Sukuna shift, glancing at Geto, who remained silent on the other side of the room. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Toji’s gaze flicked back to Gojo, as if daring him to say something. But Gojo remained silent. There was nothing he could say that would sway Toji in this state. He was a man with a singular focus—Y/n.

Toji picked up his phone, staring at Y/n’s text one last time before locking the screen. "She’ll come around," he muttered, almost to himself. "She just doesn’t know it yet."

Gojo sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Look, man, maybe you should chill for a bit, y’know? She’s pissed, sure, but pushing her—"

Toji cut him off with a sharp look. "I don’t care if she’s pissed, Satoru. She’s mine. She’s always been mine. She just needs to be reminded."

Sukuna finally spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "This isn’t about reminding her, Toji. It’s about control. And you’re losing it."

Toji's eyes flashed dangerously, but before he could respond, Sukuna held up a hand. "I’m not saying you let her go. But you gotta be smart about this. What’s the point in claiming her if she hates your guts? You want her, right? So stop scaring her off."

For a moment, it seemed like Sukuna’s words had gotten through, but then Toji shook his head, his expression hardening once more. "She’s not going anywhere."

Gojo let out a frustrated breath, but it was clear the conversation was over. Toji had made up his mind, and there was no reasoning with him when he got like this.

A sudden buzzing noise filled the room, and Gojo realized it was Toji’s phone. He checked the screen, his eyes narrowing as he read another message from Y/n:

"Don't even think about showing your face near me again Zenin. I swear"

Gojo felt the room shift, the weight of Y/n’s words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. Toji’s face was unreadable as he stared at the screen, but the tension in his body was unmistakable.

Without a word, Toji stood up, his phone still in his hand. He didn’t look at anyone as he moved toward the door, his movements quick and decisive.

"Toji, wait—" Gojo called after him, but Toji didn’t stop. He was already gone, out the door before anyone could say another word.

Sukuna let out a low whistle. "This is gonna get ugly."

Geto, who had remained silent through the entire exchange, finally spoke up. "It already is."

Gojo slumped back against the wall, running a hand over his face. He knew what was coming. He knew Toji wasn’t going to let this go, not without a fight. And Y/n… she had no idea what kind of storm was about to hit her.

"You think we should stop him?" Gojo asked, though he already knew the answer.

Sukuna shrugged, a dark smile tugging at his lips. "We can’t stop him. Not when it comes to her."

Geto nodded in agreement. "Toji’s already too far gone. The best we can do is pick up the pieces when it all blows up."

Gojo sighed. "Yeah… I just hope there’s something left to pick up."

Toji stormed toward his custom black 1979 Dodge Charger, a dark cloud of rage hanging over him like a thunderstorm ready to burst. The world around him faded as his focus narrowed, every muscle in his body tense and ready for a fight. But just as he reached the driver’s door, a gunshot rang out, echoing in the air with a sharp crack that made his heart leap.

Expecting pain, Toji braced himself, but instead, he felt the rush of air as the bullet missed him, striking the tire of his car instead. He scoffed, disbelief and fury igniting inside him as he turned, glaring at his uncle Naobito, who stood there with a smug grin plastered across his face.

“Oops, I missed,” Naobito mocked, his eyes glinting with sadistic amusement. “Next time, I’ll aim for Y/n.”

Toji’s blood ran cold, his entire body going rigid with rage. The mere thought of his uncle threatening Y/n was enough to snap the last fraying thread of his restraint. He couldn’t let this man get to her. Not now, not ever.

He shot Sukuna a quick glance, then tossed his car keys at him without a second thought. “fix the flat on this,” he growled, knowing Sukuna would have it sorted by the time he was back at the shop. His focus was already shifting toward Gojo, who stood nearby, a look of surprise and concern on his face.

Before he could process anything further, Toji snatched Gojo's car keys from his hand and hopped into the driver’s seat of the Mazda RX-8. The engine roared to life, drowning out the chaos behind him as he slammed the accelerator, peeling away from the shop with a screech of tires.

The adrenaline coursed through him as he sped through the streets, his mind racing just as fast as the car. He needed to get to Y/n, to make sure she was safe from the threat that loomed over her like a dark shadow. The thought of Naobito’s words replayed in his mind, stoking the flames of his anger. There was no way he’d let his uncle have power over his life or Y/n’s.

As he drove, the city lights blurred past him, neon signs flickering like stars in the night. Toji felt the pull of the streets, the rush of street racing calling to him, but he pushed it aside for now. There was only one thing on his mind—Y/n.

He navigated through the bustling streets, weaving between cars and taking sharp turns, his heart pounding with urgency. The closer he got to her apartment, the more determined he became. She deserved to know the truth, to understand the danger that surrounded him.

Pulling into her building’s lot, he parked hastily, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He jumped out of the car and sprinted towards the entrance, his mind racing with thoughts of how to protect her. He’d face his uncle and the mafia if it meant keeping Y/n safe.

Rage ignited within Toji, burning hot and fierce. He turned to glare at his uncle, but before he could react, Sukuna stepped forward, his expression serious. “Let’s go, Toji. We need to get you out of here.”

Ignoring the concern in Sukuna’s eyes, Toji scoffed, tossing his car keys toward him. “I’m not running from this.” With renewed determination, he snatched Gojo's car keys from his pocket and revved the engine, the powerful growl of the engine matching the storm brewing inside him. He was already on his way to Y/n’s, and nothing would stop him.

He had no intention of sharing his truth—his mafia ties, the chaos that surrounded him—no way was he letting her in on that world. He couldn’t let her slip away, not now that he’d finally found the courage to approach her, to pursue something real. Even if it meant telling half-truths, he’d play whatever game he had to.

When he arrived at Y/n's door, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for her reaction. He knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet night. A moment later, the door swung open, and there she stood—her fiery spirit radiating from her, eyes filled with anger.

“Didn’t Gojo tell you I don’t want you?” she snapped, arms crossed defiantly over her chest. “I texted you! I’m done. I mean, we weren’t ever anything, but I’m not doing whatever the fuck this is, Zenin.”

Toji felt a sharp pain in his chest at her words. “Y/n, just hear me out,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady. He stepped closer, determined to break through her defenses. “I know what you heard, but I’m not here for the drama. I just want to talk.”

“Talk?” She scoffed, her voice dripping with disbelief. “You think you can just show up here after the way you've been acting and expect me to listen? You think I’m going to let you pull me into whatever mess you have going on?”

Toji swallowed hard, sensing the wall she’d built between them. “It’s not like that. I just—I need you to know that I didn’t come here to hurt you. I know things are complicated, but I want to figure it out. I want to understand you, and—”

Y/n cut him off, shaking her head. “Understand me? You don’t even know me, Toji! All you know is how to act tough and make threats. You think you can just walk into my life and say you want to understand? You’re part of something I don’t want to be involved in.”

Toji's heart sank as he looked into her eyes, and he could see the resolve in them. He could feel the distance between them growing, and with every word she threw at him, he realized how deep the chasm had become. “I’m not asking you to be part of anything,” he insisted, frustration creeping into his voice. “I just want you to let me in.”

She hesitated for a moment, and in that pause, he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he could break through, maybe she would give him a chance. But then her expression hardened again, and the hope faded.

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re not safe for me, Toji. You think you can just come in here, smile, and pretend everything is okay? You can’t just erase the fact that you’re tangled up in sum fuck shit you won't even tell me about.”

Toji’s chest tightened, and he took a step closer, lowering his voice to a softer tone. “I know I have things to sort out, but I swear I’m trying to change. I don’t want that life. I want something real. With you.”

Y/n’s eyes searched his face, her expression wavering. He could see the conflict within her, the part that was drawn to him despite the warnings. But just as quickly, her resolve returned. “You need to leave, Toji. I can’t do this.”

Toji felt like the ground had shifted beneath him, leaving him unsteady. “I can’t just walk away. Not now. Not after getting close to you.”

The intensity of his words hung in the air, but Y/n remained unmoved, shaking her head slowly.

“Then you’re making a mistake,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is your choice. You can either keep running toward that life, or you can turn around and leave it behind. But I can’t be part of your chaos.”

Toji clenched his fists, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation. He had fought too hard to let this slip away. “I’m not asking you to join me in the chaos,” he said, his voice fierce. “I’m asking you to trust me. Just give me a chance.”

But Y/n stood firm, the door blocking the world behind her. “Trust is earned, Toji. You’ve got a long way to go.”

With that, she closed the door, leaving him outside, staring at the closed barrier between them. Each word she’d spoken echoed in his mind, and for the first time, he understood the weight of the choices he’d made.

As he turned away, a storm of emotions surged within him. He couldn’t lose her, not when he was finally ready to fight for what mattered. But if he was going to keep her in his life, he knew he had to confront the darkness and break free from the chains binding him to his past.

Toji made a silent vow to himself: he would not give up. He would prove to her that he was more than just the sum of his mistakes.

Toji leaned against Y/n's door, his resolve hardening as he pulled out his phone to check for notifications. A message from his younger brother, Megumi, popped up on the screen, and Toji's heart sank at the words that flashed before him: Dad knows about you and Y/n.

He scoffed under his breath, muttering, “There is no ‘me and Y/n.’” then texted the same.

Megumi responded almost instantly with a laughing emoji: Keep telling yourself that when everyone can see otherwise.

Toji’s stomach twisted at the thought of his family’s involvement in his life, particularly his father’s disapproval. He had worked hard to carve out a space for himself away from their expectations, and he refused to let them dictate this part of his life, especially when it came to Y/n.

With a heavy sigh, he knocked on her door again, feeling a mix of frustration and desperation. When Y/n opened it, her expression was a mixture of irritation and surprise. “Toji, please leave,” she said firmly, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Not now.

“No.” The word came out sharper than he intended, but he pushed past her, stepping into her apartment. His breath caught as he took in the sight before him. The space was stunning—filled with carefully curated furniture and art pieces that screamed her passion for interior design and architecture. Sunlight poured through the large windows, illuminating the vibrant colors and textures that reflected her Caribbean roots.

He’d seen her talent in passing, but being here, surrounded by her work, ignited a newfound admiration within him. This was a world where she thrived, and he felt a pang of longing to be part of it.

“Get out, Zenin,” Y/n raised her voice, her patience clearly wearing thin.

Toji’s heart raced as he stepped closer, instinctively reaching out to grab her wrist. Before she could protest, he pulled her to him, letting her fall into his lap as he sank down onto her plush couch. He felt the heat radiating off her body, and the scent of her shampoo—a sweet, floral aroma—filled his senses.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. He could feel the tension between them, electric and thick. He had no idea how to fix this or where to begin, but he knew he couldn’t let her push him away.

She looked up at him, her brow furrowed in disbelief. “Sorry for what? For barging into my home uninvited? For pretending like everything is fine when it’s clearly not?”

“For everything,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I know I messed up. I didn’t mean to make things complicated. I just—I don’t want to lose you.”

Y/n stiffened, her expression wavering between anger and something softer. “You’re not going to lose me by ignoring the reality of your life, Toji. You’re tangled up in something dangerous. You can’t just pull me in and expect it to be easy.”

“I don’t want you to be part of that,” he replied, his grip tightening around her waist instinctively. “But I need you to understand that I’m trying to change. I’m trying to be someone you can rely on.”

“Change?” she scoffed, shaking her head. “You think a few sweet words will erase everything you’ve done? You think I can just forget who you are?”

Toji stared at her, the intensity in her gaze making his chest ache. “No, I don’t expect you to forget. But I want a chance to show you I’m more than what everyone thinks I am. I’m not just ‘Toji Zenin, the bad boy.’ I want to be something different. I want to be with you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw the walls she’d built around her begin to crack. “And what if I can’t trust you?” she challenged, her voice trembling slightly. “What if this is all just some game to you?”

“It’s not a game,” he insisted, desperation creeping into his tone. “I’m not trying to play with your feelings. I came here because I want you, Y/n. You’re not just another girl to me.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, he leaned closer, his lips almost brushing against her ear. “Just give me a chance. Let me prove it.”

For a moment, the world around them faded away, and all he could focus on was her. The way her heart raced beneath his touch, the way her breath quickened. He could sense her hesitation, but in the depths of her eyes, he saw something else—a flicker of hope, a hint of longing that mirrored his own.

“Okay,” she finally whispered, almost breathless. “But you have to promise me one thing.”

“What?” he asked, leaning back slightly to look into her eyes.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said firmly. “Be honest about everything. No more secrets. I can’t do this if I don’t know the truth.”

Toji nodded, the weight of her request settling on his shoulders. “I promise,” he vowed, feeling a surge of determination. “No more secrets.”

As the moment hung between them, he felt a spark of something real igniting in the air. He had a long way to go, but he would fight for this, for her. Whatever it took.

Toji knew he had just lied to Y/n, and the weight of it settled heavily in his gut. He wanted to protect her, to keep her away from the darkness that loomed over his life, but he also felt the suffocating grip of the truth closing in around him. He couldn’t let her get caught up in the chaos of the Zenin family, the secrets that tangled like a web around him. Not when he was finally starting to feel something real for her.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself. The scent of her lingered in the air, intoxicating and sweet. He leaned closer, his heart racing as he took in the warmth of her body against his. “What scent is this?” he asked, his voice low and slightly husky.

“Hot Florals by Bath and Body Works,” Y/n replied, a hint of shyness creeping into her tone as she felt the intensity of his gaze on her.

He inhaled deeper, allowing the fragrance to envelop him. “You smell so good, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice a rasp that sent a shiver down her spine. There was a spark in her eyes, one that he hadn’t noticed before, and it ignited something primal within him. The way she responded to his words made his heart race, and he found himself leaning even closer, his lips nearly brushing against her neck.

Y/n swallowed hard, her breath hitching as she felt the heat radiating off him. “Toji…” she started, but the words faltered as he pressed his face deeper into her scent, intoxicated by the floral notes mixed with something uniquely hers.

“Tell me you feel this,” he whispered, his lips hovering just above her skin, teasingly close but not crossing the line. “Tell me you feel what’s happening between us.”

“I—I don’t know,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is all so sudden…”

He could feel the tension building, thick and heavy like a storm brewing in the air. Toji’s instincts kicked in, and he wanted to push forward, to claim this moment with her and make her understand just how much she meant to him. “I don’t want to rush you, but I can’t pretend like I don’t want you,” he confessed, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

Y/n looked at him, her expression a mixture of confusion and longing. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

“No,” he said firmly, feeling a surge of protectiveness wash over him. “I mean it. But I can’t let you in on all the details of my life—not yet. Not until I can keep you safe.”

Her brows furrowed as she processed his words. “Safe? From what, Toji?”

“From my world,” he replied, his voice dropping to a murmur. “It’s not a place for you. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you away from that side of me. You deserve better than that.”

“Better than you?” she challenged, her tone incredulous. “You think you’re not worth it because of your family?”

“I’m trying to protect you, Y/n,” he insisted, his grip tightening around her waist as he pulled her closer again. “I want you to be happy, and that means keeping you away from the shit I’m tied to.”

Y/n searched his eyes, looking for the truth beneath the surface. “But you can’t just keep me in the dark either. If we’re going to do this, I need to know who you really are.”

Toji sighed, torn between wanting to share everything and fearing what that would mean for her. “I just wish things were different. I wish I could show you the real me without the shadows.”

“I don’t want you to hide,” she said softly, her expression softening. “But I also won’t settle for half-truths.”

He nodded, the determination surging within him. “Then let’s start fresh. I’ll tell you what I can, and you can decide if you still want to be around me. But promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Careful?” she scoffed lightly, her eyes sparkling with defiance. “I can handle myself, Zenin. But I appreciate the concern.”

Toji chuckled softly, his mood lifting slightly. “You’re stubborn.”

“Only when I need to be,” she retorted, her lips curling into a smile. The moment felt lighter, the tension beginning to ease as they settled into a more comfortable rhythm.

As he looked into her eyes, he felt a sense of hope building. He might be lying to her about some things, but there was one truth he couldn’t deny: he wanted her in his life, regardless of the risks. And he would do everything in his power to keep her safe, even if that meant facing the demons of his past head-on.

“Okay, then,” he said, breaking the moment with a playful grin. “Let’s take it one step at a time. How about you tell me more about your design projects, and I’ll share a bit about my—less glamorous—life?”

Y/n smiled back, the warmth between them rekindling as she launched into a passionate explanation of her latest design concept. For the first time, Toji felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could make this work. Toji smiled, feeling the warmth of Y/n’s body against his. Her laughter rang sweetly in his ears, a sound he could easily become addicted to. He couldn’t help but revel in the way she ran her fingers through his hair, igniting a spark of affection in his chest.

“Your hands are magic,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly to savor the sensation. But then her expression shifted, and he felt the weight of her gaze as she studied his face.

“What happened to your face?” she asked, concern knitting her brow.

Toji’s mind flashed back to the earlier confrontation with his uncle, the fight that had left its mark. He could still feel the sting of the words exchanged and the blow to his pride. He forced a smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Oh, that? Just a little roughhousing with Sukuna at the shop. He was giving me a hard time for being mean to you earlier,” he lied smoothly, hoping the casual tone would deflect any further probing.

“Roughhousing?” she repeated skeptically, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see through his facade. “You look like you went ten rounds with a boxer.”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted, leaning back slightly to brush it off. “Sukuna and I can get a bit competitive, that’s all.” He flashed her a playful grin, hoping to lighten the mood. “You should’ve seen the other guy,” he added, trying to inject humor into the situation.

Y/n arched an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?” she challenged, crossing her arms in front of her. “You can’t just shrug it off. I care about you, Toji.”

His heart thudded at her words, the sincerity in her tone making him feel both elated and terrified. “I appreciate that, but seriously, it’s really not a big deal,” he said, his voice softening. “I just… I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“But I can’t help it,” she replied, her gaze unwavering. “If we’re going to do this—whatever this is—I need to know you’re okay. I want to be there for you, not just some passing interest.”

Toji’s chest tightened at her words. He wanted to let her in, to share everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly—but he couldn’t bring himself to drag her into his messy life. Not when she looked at him like he was something precious, something worth protecting.

“I’ll be okay, I promise,” he said finally, his voice earnest. “I’m tougher than I look.”

Y/n huffed a little laugh, her worry softening. “I can see that. But just know, I’m not going anywhere. If you ever need to talk—about anything—I’m here. Even if it means hearing about your roughhousing antics with Sukuna.”

Toji felt a wave of warmth wash over him at her words. “You really mean that?” he asked, his heart swelling.

“Of course I do,” she replied, her smile brightening the room. “I’m not easily scared off, Zenin. Trust me.”

“Good,” he said, wrapping his arms around her tighter as he pulled her closer. “Because I might need you more than you realize.”

As they settled into a comfortable silence, Toji felt a mix of emotions swirling within him—gratitude, affection, and a lingering sense of dread about what the future held. But with Y/n by his side, he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he could find a way to balance his chaotic life with the growing connection they shared.

Y/n shifted slightly, resting her head against his shoulder. “So, how’s your day going aside from the ‘roughhousing’?”

Toji chuckled softly, “Honestly? It’s gotten a lot better now that I'm here with you.”

She grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling. “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

“Good to know,” he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Because I plan to use it all on you.”

As the laughter faded, they both settled into a comfortable silence, each lost in thought but feeling the warmth of the moment. For the first time in a long while, Toji felt like maybe—just maybe—he could let someone in and still keep them safe from the storms brewing in his life.

Toji found himself lost in Y/n’s eyes, the depth of them pulling him in, making him feel more vulnerable than he ever intended. He wasn’t used to this—letting his guard down. But something about Y/n disarmed him, made him feel like he could be himself, even if he wasn’t sure what that meant anymore.

Y/n smiled, noticing his gaze lingering longer than usual. “Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked, her voice soft, teasing, but curious.

Toji snapped out of his thoughts, smirking in an attempt to mask the whirlwind of emotions running through his mind. He cleared his throat and leaned in slightly. “Because you look good,” he replied smoothly, his deep voice carrying a hint of playful mischief. “That’s why.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed a bit, but she laughed and lightly smacked his chest. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Smooth Talker.”

Toji was about to respond, but his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment. He subtly pulled it out, glancing at the message from Gojo:

"Swinging by Y/n’s to pick up my car and drop off yours. But heads up—your uncle’s asking about you and Y/n. Try to keep her out of shit."

Toji’s jaw tightened slightly as he skimmed the message. His shoulders tensed, and an involuntary wave of protectiveness surged through him. His uncle had a way of complicating things, and the last thing he wanted was for Y/n to get caught up in the dangerous world he was part of. She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t even know the half of it.

Y/n noticed the shift in his demeanor. “Everything okay?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.

Toji quickly pocketed his phone, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he lied. “Just Gojo being an idiot as usual.” He chuckled, trying to brush it off.

But Y/n wasn’t so easily fooled. She tilted her head, studying him like she always did when something felt off. “You sure? You just tensed up like you’re about to fight someone.”

Toji grinned, trying to play it cool. “I’m always ready to fight someone,” he joked, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to distract her. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s just some car stuff.”

She gave him a skeptical look but decided not to push further, resting her head on his chest. Toji took a deep breath, trying to focus on the moment instead of the chaos that always seemed to lurk around the corner. But the truth weighed heavy on him—his uncle’s interest in Y/n was a threat he couldn’t ignore.

His phone buzzed again, and this time, Toji silenced it without looking. Right now, his priority was Y/n. Keeping her out of the mess he was in had to be his focus, even if it meant lying to her, pushing her away, or hiding parts of his life. But how long could he keep up the charade?

“Hey,” Y/n’s voice broke through his thoughts. “If there’s ever anything you need to tell me, you know you can, right? I’m not going anywhere.”

Toji felt a pang of guilt but covered it with another charming smile. “I know, Y/n. Trust me, I’ll keep you in the loop.”

He didn’t know how long he could keep that promise.

Toji released yn to head downstairs saying "I'll be back shortly, gotta go downstairs. Satoru and i need to sort something out real quick. With that said, he went downstairs.

Toji leaned against Gojo’s car, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared off into the distance, still trying to shake off the tense feeling from earlier. Gojo handed him his own keys back, glancing at him with an unspoken question in his eyes. "Naobito really got his eye on you, huh?"

Toji grunted, avoiding the topic. "Always. But I got it handled." He wasn’t about to let Gojo see how deep the stress went. The last thing he needed was for Y/n to get caught up in that.

Just then, Mei Mei and Shoko pulled up, both stepping out of the car like they owned the world. Mei Mei, with her usual confident smirk, noticed Toji first and immediately burst into laughter. "Well, well, well. Toji Zenin at Y/n’s place. And here I thought she kept her life private," she teased, her voice dripping with amusement.

Toji didn't acknowledge her comment, his focus still on the ground as he exchanged his car keys with Gojo. Gojo, however, couldn't resist groaning as Mei Mei’s sharp eyes fell on him next. She winked playfully. "And look who it is. Gojo Satoru, always lingering around. You know, Gojo, maybe one day—"

"Mei Mei, please. Stop," Gojo cut her off with a groan, already anticipating where she was going with this.

She raised an eyebrow, thoroughly entertained. "Hmmm, how about…?" she trailed off, leaning closer as if she had another snarky comment ready to drop.

Gojo threw his hands up, stopping her in her tracks. "No more talks about my dad, Mei Mei. Seriously."

Mei Mei laughed, shaking her head, clearly enjoying Gojo's discomfort. "Relax, Satoru. I’m just messing with you."

With that, she and Shoko strolled toward the building, leaving Gojo shaking his head in disbelief. Toji, still leaning against his car, finally spoke up, his voice low. "She’s gonna cause you trouble one of these days."

Gojo smirked, running a hand through his hair. "She already does, but hey, keeps life interesting."

As the two stood there in silence for a moment, Gojo studied Toji carefully, noticing the tension still present in his body. "You sure about Y/n, man? I mean… all this stuff with your uncle. She's bound to get caught up in it eventually."

Toji’s jaw clenched at Gojo’s words, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he pushed off from the car and handed Gojo his keys. "I’ll handle it. Just keep her out of anything she doesn’t need to know."

Gojo shrugged. "Alright, man. Just don’t let it blow up in your face."

As Toji turned to head back toward Y/n’s apartment, he spotted Mei Mei and Shoko talking and laughing outside her door. He sighed. Great, more people knowing where she lives.

Before heading back up, Toji glanced at Gojo. "Watch my back with Uncle. And if he asks—"

"Yeah, yeah," Gojo interrupted, waving him off. "I'll cover for you. Just try not to make it worse."

Toji grunted in acknowledgment, then started making his way back inside, bracing himself for whatever trouble Mei Mei might stir up next. All the while, he couldn't stop thinking about how complicated things were getting with Y/n—and how much he needed to protect her, even if it meant keeping her in the dark.

Gojo casually reached into Toji's glove compartment, pulling out a small baggie filled with neatly rolled joints. "C'mon, smoke one with me," he said, twirling a joint between his fingers as he smirked. "Because," he nodded toward the apartment complex with a grin, "Y/n’s gonna be busy with Shoko and Ms. Eat-A-Man’s Money up there."

Toji exhaled through his nose, his irritation palpable, but he accepted the joint from Gojo. Leaning against the car, he lit it up and took a long drag, trying to shake off the stress of the night. As the smoke filled his lungs, his mind momentarily calmed, though he knew it wouldn’t last.

"You know," Gojo began, lighting up his own joint, "you’re walking a thin line here. Y/n’s got no idea who you really are, what you’re tied to. And your uncle…" Gojo trailed off, side-eyeing Toji, "he’s gonna find a way to drag her into it."

Toji flicked the ash off his joint, his eyes narrowing. "She won’t be dragged into anything. Not if I can help it."

Gojo chuckled darkly, taking a puff. "Toji, you can’t control everything. And Y/n… she’s not stupid. She’s already asking questions."

Toji clenched his jaw but didn’t respond immediately, staring off into the distance, smoke swirling around him. He thought of Y/n upstairs, probably laughing with Shoko and Mei Mei, blissfully unaware of the world he was tangled in. The lies, the danger—all of it was piling up, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep her shielded from the truth.

"I'll figure it out," Toji finally said, his voice low, almost to himself.

Gojo shrugged, taking another hit. "If you say so, man. Just don’t let it all blow up in your face when the truth comes knocking." He blew out a thick cloud of smoke, letting the silence settle between them as they passed the joint back and forth.

Upstairs, they could hear faint laughter, likely Y/n and the girls. Gojo smirked, shaking his head. "She’s already neck-deep in this, and she doesn’t even know it. That’s the dangerous part."

Toji clenched his teeth. It was true. Y/n was becoming more important to him than he’d planned, and with his uncle breathing down his neck, the walls were closing in faster than he could maneuver around them.

“I can handle my uncle,” Toji muttered, but the doubt was creeping in, and he hated it.

Gojo raised a brow, his lips curling into a lazy smile. "Sure you can. But what happens when Y/n’s the one standing in his crosshairs? You ready for that?"

Toji didn't respond immediately. Instead, he took another deep drag from the joint, letting the smoke burn away the unease in his chest, if only for a moment. His thoughts swirled with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios, but the one thing he couldn’t deny was that he wasn’t about to let anyone—especially his uncle—hurt Y/n.

"That’s not gonna happen," he finally said, his voice gruff. "I’ll keep her out of it."

Gojo didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push further. "We’ll see, Zenin. We’ll see."

As they smoked in silence, the weight of their words lingered in the air, along with the very real possibility that things were about to spiral out of control.

Toji felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and as he pulled it out, he noticed a message from Shui Kong, his long-time best friend who was rarely in the country.

Shui Kong: Yo, where you at? Got some news to fill you in on. It’s important.

Toji sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he read the text. Just what he needed—more complications. He looked over at Gojo, who leaned in closer, squinting at the screen as if he could decipher the entire conversation just by reading the text.

"What's up? Is it about Y/n?" Gojo asked, his tone casual, but Toji could hear the underlying curiosity in his voice.

Toji shook his head, dismissing the question. "Nah, it's Shui. He’s back in town, and he says he has news."

Gojo smirked, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "You know that never bodes well, right? What if he’s bringing back more trouble? You already have enough on your plate."

"Yeah, well, I can’t exactly ignore him. We’ve been through too much together," Toji replied, feeling the weight of his friend’s sudden return looming over him. There was a lot of unfinished business between them, especially after everything that had gone down before Shui left.

Gojo leaned back against the car, arms crossed, his expression turning serious. "Just be careful. You know how things get when he’s around. And if it has anything to do with your family or that mafia mess…" he trailed off, leaving the implications hanging in the air.

Toji bit his lip, torn between wanting to answer Shui and not wanting to draw more trouble into his already chaotic life. After a moment, he decided to reply.

Toji: I’m at the shop. What’s the news?

He pressed send and glanced back at Gojo, who was still watching him with an amused expression. "You think he’ll drop another bomb on you? Maybe tell you he’s running for president or something?"

Toji rolled his eyes, trying to shake off the anxious feeling in his gut. "I just want to get through this night without any more surprises."

Before Gojo could respond, Toji's phone buzzed again with a reply from Shui.

Shui Kong: I’m coming by. Got some intel on your uncle and the Zenin business. You’ll want to hear this.

Toji’s heart sank. He exchanged a worried glance with Gojo, who raised an eyebrow, clearly reading between the lines. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"Guess we’ll find out," Toji muttered, a sense of dread settling in. He couldn't shake the feeling that whatever news Shui had would change everything.

Just as he was about to respond, Gojo's phone buzzed. He pulled it out, his brow furrowing. "It’s Y/n. She wants to know if you’re okay. Seems like she's worried."

Toji felt a warmth spread in his chest at her concern but quickly masked it with indifference. "Just tell her I’m fine. I’ll talk to her later."

Gojo shrugged, smirking again. "You know, you could be a little more honest with her. Maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to check up on you if you didn’t have that whole mysterious bad boy vibe going on."

Toji shot him a glare. "Shut up, Gojo."

But inside, the comment lingered. Maybe he was playing too many cards close to his chest, especially with Y/n. As he thought about her, another text from Shui came in.

Shui Kong: People are starting to talk about you and Y/n, you better tread carefully, my friend.

Toji's fingers tightened around his phone, annoyance flashing across his face. "What the hell does that mean?"

Gojo chuckled, already guessing the answer. "Looks like you’re not the only one who sees how deep you’re in with her. Just don’t get her caught up in your family drama."

Toji opened his mouth to retort but decided against it. Instead, he glanced back at the apartment, his mind racing with thoughts of Y/n and how far he was willing to go to keep her safe. The storm brewing on the horizon felt closer than ever, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.

"Let’s just get through tonight," he said finally, his resolve hardening. "Then we’ll figure out what to do next."

Toji took another pull from the joint trying to clear his head. He knew lying to yn would only bite him in the ass later but he would deal with that when it comes. hopefully it doesn't cause him to lose her.

Toji sighed, running a hand through his hair as he said, "Lemme go tell Y/n I gotta go." He turned to head back upstairs, but Gojo, ever the shadow, locked his car and walked behind him.

"Where are you going?" Toji asked, exasperated.

"Obviously, I'm not gonna miss you acting unusual in front of Y/n. I need proof for the group chat, you know this," Gojo shot back, a smirk on his face.

Toji scoffed but didn't argue. He marched back to Y/n's apartment, Gojo trailing behind him, probably buzzing with the prospect of a good story.

When he knocked on the door, he heard Shoko shout from the other side, "It's open!"

Toji pushed the door open and stepped inside, only to be greeted by a scene he hadn’t expected. The room was filled with a haze of smoke, and he could see Shoko and Mei Mei lounging on the couch, a blunt circulating between them. Y/n sat cross-legged on the floor, her back to him, laughing at something they were saying.

Toji's eyes widened as he took in Y/n’s outfit—a pair of burnt orange silk shorts and a cropped shirt of the same color, accentuating her figure perfectly. Her ombre-dyed faux locs were styled in double puffs, giving her an effortlessly chic look that made his heart race.

Gojo’s eyes darted between Toji’s expression and the scene unfolding in front of him, silently judging the sudden shift in energy.

Mei Mei was the first to speak, a playful glint in her eye. "Told you he'd come back upstairs, Y/n."

Toji’s gaze landed squarely on Y/n, trying to control the feral reaction that threatened to bubble to the surface. The sight of her looking so carefree, so vibrant, ignited a possessiveness in him that he struggled to suppress. He had never seen her like this, so relaxed and unguarded, and it stirred something deep inside him.

"Hey, Toji!" Y/n turned to him, her smile brightening the room. But her cheerful demeanor only made his internal conflict stronger. "What’s up?"

"Uh, I just came to say I have to head out for a bit," Toji managed to reply, his voice sounding rougher than he intended. He couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to pull her close and protect her from whatever chaos lay ahead.

"Where are you off to?" she asked, tilting her head, her curiosity piqued.

"Just...some business. I'll be back later," he said, keeping his tone casual, though he could feel the tension building.

Shoko exchanged a glance with Mei Mei, then chimed in, "You know, Y/n, we were just discussing how you should join us for a little relaxation session. What do you say? A girls’ night with a side of Toji drama?"

Toji shot a glance at Gojo, who looked ready to burst from holding in laughter. "Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now," he said, his voice low, trying to keep the atmosphere light despite the storm brewing inside him.

Y/n’s brow furrowed slightly, sensing his unease. "What do you mean? You’re not coming back for the fun?"

"Just… got stuff to handle, you know?" Toji said, brushing it off. But he couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret at the thought of leaving her in the midst of this laid-back gathering.

Mei Mei leaned forward, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Come on, Toji. Live a little. You’re always so serious. Maybe just this once, you could join us."

"Yeah, let loose for once, Zenin," Gojo added, folding his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "You might actually enjoy it."

Toji clenched his jaw, the weight of their words pressing down on him. He was torn between the temptation to stay and the urgency of the situation that awaited him outside.

Y/n looked up at him, her expression softening. "You can hang out for a bit, right? Just until things settle down?"

Toji's resolve wavered. He wanted nothing more than to enjoy this moment with her, but he could feel the pressures of his life creeping in, threatening to overshadow the blissful time they could share.

With a reluctant sigh, he finally relented. "Alright, just for a little while."

As he settled down on the floor next to Y/n, he felt the tension ease slightly, even if it was only temporary. But deep down, he knew this wasn’t just a fun night with friends; it was a delicate balancing act that could tip at any moment. And he had to be ready for whatever was coming next.

Previous Next

[sleepyhoons]

I LOVE THIS SO MUCHSKEKCJKDJSICJCKSK

Spotlight on Us || Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Idol Jihoon x Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: Jihoon and Y/N are forced to sit together at an award show, causing endless cheers, teasing, and viral moments. From sneaky glances to Woozi protectively covering Y/N with his blazer, the night is full of heart-fluttering chaos. When Jihoon tears up during his speech and sees Y/N crying too, it becomes clear—no matter how much they pretend, everyone knows. Feel free to make requests || M.list

Jihoon knew this would happen. He saw it coming from a mile away.

Yet, here he was, forced to sit beside you at an award show, and the crowd was absolutely losing it.

Seungcheol had nearly fallen over laughing when Jihoon realized where he had to sit. Jeonghan had patted his shoulder like a proud parent.

And now? Now, he was trapped.

The moment the camera panned over to your table, the cheers hit like a tidal wave. The entire venue shook with the sound of fans screaming their lungs out, and Jihoon could already see the headlines forming in real-time.

"Woozi and Y/N: Power Couple of the Century?"

"Woozi's Reaction to Sitting Next to Y/N is Priceless!"

"Destiny? Fate? Coincidence? We Think Not!"

He sighed, rubbing his temple as Seungcheol cackled beside him. "Hyung, it's like a concert in here," Dino whispered, wide-eyed.

Jihoon glanced at you, only to find you smirking. "Did you plan this?" he accused.

You feigned innocence, sipping your drink. "Me? I would never."

Liar.

The second the camera landed on your table, the screaming was deafening. The venue, which had been relatively calm just moments ago, erupted.

Jihoon fought every urge to groan as he kept his expression neutral, while you—completely unbothered—smiled and gave a polite wave. You were enjoying this way too much.

"Look at you," you teased, voice barely audible over the noise. "Are you blushing?"

Jihoon scoffed. "It's hot in here."

"Uh-huh, sure," you mused, nudging his knee under the table.

And then, as if things weren’t bad enough, the host on stage decided to make things worse.

"So, I think we have to talk about one of the most beloved pairings in the industry right now," the MC said, grinning. "Our audience is going crazy for these two—Woozi and Y/N, everyone!"

The camera panned right back to you both, a split screen of your reactions broadcasting to millions.

Jihoon shut his eyes. "Kill me."

Meanwhile, you? You blew a kiss to the camera.

The screams reached another level.

The members of Seventeen lost it. Seungcheol clapped like a seal. DK was howling. Jeonghan actually got out of his seat to dramatically bow in your direction, like you had just won an Oscar.

"You're enjoying this," Jihoon muttered, side-eyeing you.

"Oh, absolutely," you replied, resting your chin on your hand as if you lived for this moment.

His phone vibrated. Another message from Jeonghan.

[Jeonghan]: Just kiss on camera. I dare you.

Jihoon choked on air. You glanced at his phone and laughed. "What's he saying?"

"Nothing," he snapped, locking it immediately.

And then, it got even worse.

A special segment played—a montage of all the best collaborations of the year. And right there, in full HD, was a clip of you and Jihoon from a previous music show, standing way too close, exchanging small smiles.

It ended with a close-up of Jihoon watching you perform, eyes soft in a way that was damning.

The camera cut back to you both just in time to catch Jihoon covering his face with both hands.

Absolute pandemonium.

Even you were giggling now. "Wow, you really don’t help your case."

"I hate this," Jihoon grumbled into his hands.

You leaned in slightly. "Hate it enough to run away?"

Jihoon peeked at you through his fingers.

You smiled. The same smile that made his heart stutter every single time. The same smile that made him—despite all his complaining—stay exactly where he was.

Every time the camera even slightly panned in your direction, the audience roared in approval. At one point, the big screen accidentally caught Jihoon sneaking glances at you when you weren’t looking, and the fans lost it.

He knew the fancams would be everywhere by the time he got back to the dorms.

And then—disaster struck.

During a short intermission, you shifted slightly in your seat, adjusting your dress, when you realized—it was shorter than you thought.

The realization hit at the worst possible moment because, just as you moved, the camera cut back to your table.

You froze.

Jihoon noticed immediately. His sharp eyes flickered to you, then to the screen, and without thinking, he reached for something—his blazer.

With swift, natural movements, he leaned in and draped it over your lap, completely casual, like he had done it a million times before.

The camera caught everything.

A split screen showed Jihoon placing his blazer over you while you whispered a flustered, “Jihoon, what are you doing?”

"Just wear it," he muttered, pretending to focus on the stage.

Fans erupted.

Jeonghan burst into laughter, clapping his hands as if Woozi had just confessed on national television. Seungkwan gasped so dramatically that DK had to hold him back, and Mingyu was already on his phone, probably tweeting about it.

The big screen replayed the moment in slow motion, zooming in on Jihoon's effortlessly protective gesture.

Jihoon stiffened when he saw it. "You have got to be kidding me."

His phone blew up.

[Jeonghan]: ROMANTIC LEAD ENERGY!!!

[Mingyu]: Jihoon, OUR SWEETHEART???

[Hoshi]: THIS IS CRAZYYYYY

[Seungkwan]: GOODBYE, WORLD. THIS IS THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.

The captions wrote themselves.

"Lee Jihoon, the definition of boyfriend material."

"Woozi naturally protecting Y/N?? We are living in a fanfiction."

"When will my boyfriend be like this?"

Meanwhile, you were trying so hard to hold back your laughter. "Did you have to be so smooth about it?"

Jihoon cleared his throat. "It wasn’t smooth."

"You literally just gave me your blazer without blinking."

"Because you needed it," he huffed, crossing his arms.

You peeked up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. "…Thanks, Jihoon."

He looked away immediately, ears turning red. "Shut up."

Jihoon should have known the night wasn’t over yet.

After all the teasing, the chaotic fan reactions, and the never-ending camera zoom-ins, the moment had finally arrived—Seventeen’s category was being announced.

The entire group sat up straighter, hands clasped together, nervous energy crackling in the air. You could feel it from your seat beside Jihoon, his usually steady hands slightly curled into fists on his lap.

“And the winner is…”

The pause was agonizing.

"SEVENTEEN!"

The entire venue exploded.

Seventeen shot up from their seats, hugging each other tightly, overwhelmed with joy. Fans screamed, members cheered, and Jihoon—despite his usual composure—looked stunned.

You watched as Seungcheol pulled Jihoon into a tight hug, and that’s when you saw it—his eyes, glossy with tears.

The camera captured the moment perfectly. Jihoon, the man who poured his heart and soul into every note, every lyric, standing there, wiping at his eyes as the weight of everything hit him all at once.

And suddenly, your own eyes burned.

You covered your mouth with your hands, trying to hold back the emotions bubbling up inside you. You had seen Jihoon work himself to the bone, staying in the studio until dawn, striving for perfection in everything he did.

He deserved this. They all did.

Jihoon stood on stage, microphone in hand, staring out at the sea of fans and glowing lightsticks. The award sat heavy in his grasp, but not as heavy as the emotions swelling in his chest.

The cheers had barely died down when Seungcheol, ever the leader, began their speech—thanking the fans, the staff, the families, and everyone who had supported them.

But when the mic was passed to Jihoon, the crowd fell into an expectant hush.

Jihoon took a deep breath. “Um…” He let out a small chuckle, voice already wavering. “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry.”

The audience cheered, as if encouraging him to let it out.

Jihoon swallowed hard, gripping the microphone tighter. “This… this award means a lot. More than I can put into words. We’ve worked so hard, and to be standing here, receiving this, it still feels unreal.” He exhaled shakily, blinking rapidly, but the tears still escaped, rolling down his cheeks.

Seventeen members immediately reached for him—Jeonghan placing a hand on his back, Seungkwan nodding at him reassuringly. The crowd cooed, some fans already tearing up themselves.

The camera panned across the group, capturing their emotions, before shifting—straight to you.

Sitting at your table, eyes glassy with unshed tears, you watched Jihoon with nothing but pure admiration and pride. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the camera lingered on you, your lips pressed together to keep from outright sobbing.

And just like that, the entire venue reacted.

Fans screamed.

The members on stage noticed, and before Jihoon could even process what was happening, Jeonghan grabbed his shoulders and spun him around to face the screen.

There, clear as day, was you, wiping at your cheeks, eyes fixed on him like he was the most important person in the world.

Jihoon's face turned red instantly. He quickly turned back, covering his face with his sleeve, but it was too late.

Mingyu burst out laughing, Joshua clapped his hands like an excited kid, and even Seungcheol cracked up, patting Jihoon's back.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones crying,” Seungkwan teased into the mic, making the crowd go wild.

Jihoon groaned into his hands, but despite his embarrassment, he peeked up at the camera again—at you.

And in that moment, as he saw you smiling softly through your tears, he couldn’t even be mad.

Because no matter how much he pretended to ignore it, no matter how much he groaned when the cameras caught you both—deep down, he knew.

There was no one he’d rather share the spotlight with.