#lyrics are from no one thinks about you by roar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 2 months ago

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why are you obsessed with me? — ryomen sukuna.

"You seemed really into it tonight." he noted casually, though his eyes held that familiar gleam. “Just playing my part, darling.” you replied with a shrug, but your voice was softer, a hint of something warmer seeping through. Sukuna stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "Maybe we’re both playing a little too well, aren’t we, baby doll?" he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. You met his gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Or maybe we’re not playing at all." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the crowd outside.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern singers au!

WARNING/S: romance, fluff, secretly dating, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, elaborate roleplay, making out, smut, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, teasing, flirting, playfulness, dancing and singing, possessiveness, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of sexual tension, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, frontman! sukuna, front!woman/soloist! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.9k words.

NOTE: finally the starter for this year's kinktober!!! i liked this idea of sukuna being a frontman and just dating another singer and just like getting off doing this play of them having this rivalry but they're actually together??? i sat there and was like 'actually, their bed activities must go wild after every fake fight!'; anyway, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

if you want to, tip! <3

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PEOPLE DIDN’T KNOW HOW IT STARTED. But everything about the rivalry was electric, charged with an intensity that made headlines and drew crowds. Anyone who had been there from the beginning would swear it was something you had to experience firsthand—a front-row seat to the wildfire that was your feud with Ryomen Sukuna.

Both bands had climbed their way to the top on different wavelengths: you, with your poetic lyrics and magnetic stage presence, a master of drawing the crowd into the emotion of your songs; and Sukuna, with his raw, untamed energy and unapologetic attitude, commanding attention like a force of nature. The music industry loved pitting you against each other, fanning the flames of competition, but no one had expected it to escalate the way it did.

It started innocently enough. Sukuna, in a radio interview, casually commented, “Sure, they're good, if you’re into that whole soft and emotional vibe. I just think music should have a bit more… bite.” The host laughed, the audience cheered, and Ryomen Sukuna’s grin was all teeth—sharp, confident. “You know, you gotta expect more!”

You had fired back the next day on social media with a witty post: “Bite all you want, but if your bark’s louder than your music, maybe you’re just a dog chasing its own tail.”

The tweet went viral within minutes.

The fans loved it. The music blogs devoured it, dissecting every word, every implication. Both your names were plastered across headlines, articles speculating about a burgeoning rivalry that was just too juicy to ignore. The tension simmered, but it was still lighthearted, still playful.

Then Sukuna took it to the next level.

At his next concert, in front of a sold-out crowd, he made a spectacle of it. “This next song….” he announced, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s dedicated to someone who thinks they can keep up with me.” His grin was wicked as the crowd roared in anticipation. The opening notes rang out—an aggressive beat, the kind that grabbed you by the throat. The lyrics were sharp, mocking, filled with clever jabs that made it unmistakable who they were about.

"Got your head in the clouds, but no feet on the ground, baby doll." Sukuna sang with a sneer. "You talk about a big game, but all I hear is sound. Nonsense!"

The audience went wild as the guitar line merged with the drums. The pyrotechnics were going insane with the beat. People ate it up. Social media exploded. Hashtags trended within the hour. Your name was on everyone’s lips, and suddenly, it was your turn.

Not to be outdone, you fired back at your own concert, taking shots at his image, his music, and even his fans. The cheers and screams were deafening; you knew you had his attention. From then on, it was an all-out war, a back-and-forth of jabs and taunts, each concert a new battleground.

Then came the diss tracks.

You released yours first, a biting, cleverly constructed anthem that didn’t just mock his music but dissected his entire persona with surgical precision. The internet went wild. Memes, fan theories, reaction videos—your name was on everyone’s lips. Sukuna's response was swift, and his diss track hit like a punch to the gut. It was brutal, unapologetic, and catchy enough that even your own fans had to admit it was a banger.

Lines were drawn. Your fans and his went head-to-head on every platform imaginable, turning comment sections and fan forums into war zones. Arguments broke out, allegiances were tested, and friendships fractured. The media couldn’t get enough, fueling the fire with articles dissecting every lyric, every post, every glance exchanged between you two. It wasn't just a rivalry anymore; it was a movement.

And through it all, there was an unspoken understanding between you and Sukuna. A thrill in the way your eyes met across the stage, a shared smirk when your names were spoken in the same breath. You were rivals, sure, but there was something else there too—a magnetic pull that neither of you could deny. Every diss, every jab, was just a prelude to something bigger, something inevitable.

People just had to be there. To witness the chaos, the passion, the music that became the soundtrack to an unforgettable war. To see how a feud could blur the line between hate and something far more dangerous. To feel the tension crackling in the air, knowing that this was only the beginning.

On your next concert, where you decided to strike back. “Heard some noise the other day, bothersome noise really.” you told the crowd, a sly smile playing on your lips. “Sounded like a toddler throwing a tantrum. So, I thought, why not give them something real to cry about?”

The audience cheered, sensing the impending retaliation. And you delivered, every line of your song a retort, every beat a blow aimed squarely at Sukuna. "You get on my nerves; You're so fuckin' annoying, you could poison poison?" you sang, a smirk on your lips as the crowd chanted along, the hook instantly catchy, an earworm that would haunt Sukuna’s name for weeks.

By the next day, the diss track was trending everywhere. Ryomen Sukuna was asked about it during an interview, and his reaction was priceless. He chuckled, clearly amused, his eyes gleaming with something dangerously playful. “Oh, I’m annoying, am I?” he mused, leaning back in his chair. “Well, sweetheart, when you’re that easy to rile up, it’s just too tempting not to play.”

Behind closed doors, though, it was a different story.

Backstage at a private after-party for Uraume’s album reveal, Ryomen Sukuna cornered you with a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "That was cute, baby doll." he said, his voice low, intimate. "But you know you just gave me more to work with, right?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "Oh, please. As if you could come up with something half as clever."

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, his smirk growing. “You think I’m not capable of playing your game?”

"I think you're used to being a blunt instrument, hm?" you teased, leaning closer. "But there's an art to this, darling. Not just noise."

His grin widened. “We’ll see about that, baby doll.” he murmured, his hand brushing yours—intentionally, deliberately. For a moment, your breath hitched. There was a charge in the air between you, an unspoken understanding.

It became a pattern. Each new concert brought a fresh wave of insults, veiled in clever lyrics. Every interview turned into an opportunity to stoke the fire, to keep the fans on the edge of their seats. The tension, the back-and-forth, the rapid-fire comebacks—it all played out in front of the world. But behind the scenes, it was like an elaborate game, a high-stakes dance that neither of you could quit.

"You seemed really into it tonight." he noted casually, though his eyes held that familiar gleam.

“Just playing my part, darling.” you replied with a shrug, but your voice was softer, a hint of something warmer seeping through.

Sukuna stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "Maybe we’re both playing a little too well, aren’t we, baby doll?" he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You met his gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Or maybe we’re not playing at all." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the crowd outside.

He chuckled, leaning in closer until his lips were a breath away from yours. "Careful, my baby doll." he whispered. "People might start thinking about something else.”

Your smile widened, eyes locked with his. "Maybe it is." you replied, your heart racing in your chest, as his lips finally met yours, soft yet insistent. “Maybe it isn’t.”

══════════════════

THERE WAS SO MUCH ADRENALINE. You were pacing back and forth, adrenaline coursing through your veins as your bandmates tuned their instruments, stealing glances at you. The festival was the biggest one yet, and your set was right after Sukuna and his folk.

The perfect setup for another battle, another clash in this never-ending war. It was another festival gig and Sukuna was here again. But you weren’t just thinking about the performance. Your thoughts kept circling back to that smirk Sukuna flashed you from the stage earlier, as if daring you to make the first move tonight.

Your bassist nudges you with a grin. "You’re not seriously thinking about what he said last week, are you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course not." you lied. "But he’s been pushing it lately, don’t you think? I’m just figuring out how to outdo him this time."

Just as you said that, the door swung open, and there he was—Ryomen Sukuna, flanked by his own entourage, looking as smug as ever. His eyes zeroed in on you instantly, that familiar glint of mischief lighting up his gaze.

“Ready to get outclassed again?” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. Your set was… okay, if you’re into repetitive noise.”

He chuckled, stepping closer, ignoring the tension that rippled through the room. “Is that the best you’ve got, sweetheart? Because I’ve heard your new track… and honestly, I’m not impressed.”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and exhilaration. “Right, because your lyrical masterpiece about your ex was so groundbreaking. What was it called again? ‘Cliché’? Or was it ‘Cringe’? Hard to tell.”

Sukuna laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down your spine, though you’d never admit it. “At least people are talking about it, baby doll.” he shot back, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, you and I both know… this isn’t about the music anymore.”

You took a step closer, refusing to back down. “Oh? Then what’s it about, Sukuna? Enlighten me.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper that only you could hear. “It’s about this… you and me, driving each other crazy. Admit it—you’re having fun.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. For a second, the noise of the festival outside seemed to fade, and all you could hear was your heartbeat, loud and insistent.

“You wish.” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m just here to win, Sukuna.”

His grin widened, and he moved even closer, so close you could see the sparks in his eyes. “Then let’s see who wins tonight, baby doll.” he murmured, a challenge in every word. "And maybe, just maybe… we’ll figure out what the hell this really is."

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel, heading out with a laugh that lingered in the air long after he was gone. You stood there, breathless, wondering how the hell he always managed to get under your skin—and why a part of you liked it so much.

Your drummer nudged you, pulling you back to reality. "So… what’s the plan now?"

You smirked, grabbing your microphone, your adrenaline surging. “The plan?” you said. “We give them a show they’ll never forget.”

As you took the stage, you saw him standing off to the side, watching you with that infuriating grin. The crowd was roaring, the lights were blinding, and somewhere in the midst of it all, you felt the spark ignite again.

This was far from over.

The roar of the crowd vibrated through the stage as you stepped up to the microphone, eyes scanning the sea of faces. And there he was, off to the side, arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face. Ryomen Sukuna was waiting—waiting to see what you’d do, how you’d respond to his taunts, his challenges. The rivalry had become a game, but one neither of you were willing to lose.

You leaned into the mic, letting the energy of the moment wash over you. "How’s everyone doing tonight?" you shouted, and the crowd erupted in cheers, the noise almost deafening. "You know, I wasn’t sure if we should even bother showing up after that last set."

You paused, letting the words sink in, and a wave of laughter and excited murmurs rippled through the audience. Your guitarist strummed a sharp chord, and the band jumped in with the opening notes of your new track—the one that had set the internet ablaze.

The fans knew the first lines by heart, screaming them back at you with an energy that could only come from shared devotion. You caught Sukuna’s eye, feeling that familiar thrill at the challenge that lay in his gaze.

Halfway through the set, you decided to escalate things. You turned back to the mic, catching your breath. "You know, guys…." you began. “There’s been a lot of talk lately… about who's really on top in this scene."

The crowd cheered louder, sensing where you were going. "Some people think it’s that guy over there." You pointed in Sukuna’s direction, and the audience erupted into a mix of boos and cheers. “Hey pink head.”

Sukuna, ever the showman, gave an exaggerated bow, playing to the crowd’s reaction, which only made them more riled up.

“But I think we all know, everyone.” you continued, leaning forward with a grin. “That the real reason people are here tonight… is to see which one of us cracks first. So, what do you say, Sukuna?” You called out, your voice carrying over the noise. “Why don’t you come up here and face me?”

A ripple of excitement and disbelief swept through the crowd. Ryomen Sukuna’s smile grew wider, and without missing a beat, he moved toward the stage, his entourage trailing behind. He jumped up onto the platform, grabbing a mic from one of the stagehands, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You really wanna do this, baby doll?" he taunted, his voice low and teasing. "Because I don’t think your fans can handle what I’ve got in store."

You stepped closer, the tension thick between you, the audience practically buzzing with anticipation. “Oh, I think they can handle a lot more than you can, Sukuna.”

He laughed, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to echo off the stage walls. “Alright then, let’s give them a show.” He turned to the crowd. "How about a little live battle, right here, right now? Let’s see who’s really got the chops."

The crowd went wild, chanting both your name and his, the noise rising to a fever pitch. Your bandmates looked at you, uncertain but excited. You gave them a nod—it was on. You faced off with Sukuna, mics in hand, the beat dropping low and steady, building tension. The music swelled, and Sukuna started first, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

“You think you’re on top, but you’re just a phase,

A flicker, a flame that’ll soon be erased.

I’m the storm, the fire, the one they all fear,

And when this is over, you’ll wish you weren’t here.”

The crowd erupted, and you could see the challenge in his eyes, daring you to match his intensity. He continued on, people saying ‘ey’ ‘oh’ and screaming as they echoed their words. You stepped up, not missing a beat as you grinned at him.

“You swagger and boast like you’re king of the stage,

But all that you’ve got is that pathetic, tired old ass rage.

I’m the light, the spark, you’re the one drinking cheap booze.

When I’m done, your crowd’s gonna give you nothin�� but boos.”

The audience was in a frenzy now, torn between the two of you, your words cutting into the night air like knives. Sukuna leaned in closer, his grin still in place, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer force of his presence. He was electric, enigmatic. He was everything all at once as you looked at him.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that, baby doll.” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear over the chaos. “But do you really think you can outlast me?”

You smirked, adrenaline coursing through you like a drug. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

The beat dropped again, faster, harder, and the two of you kept going, each line sharper, each verse more biting than the last. It wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was a test of will, a clash of two forces too strong to coexist but too intrigued to stay apart.

And somewhere in the midst of it all, as the crowd surged and screamed, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t trying to win this battle. Maybe you were just trying to keep Sukuna’s eyes on you for as long as possible.

══════════════════

YOU DIDN’T WANT TO GO TO PRACTICE TODAY. But you decided that you were going to go anyway. Mainly because your bandmates said they’ll buy you your favorite matcha drink with your favorite croissant today. And you like to be given free stuff, so off you went, dressed in baggy clothes and headed to the studio.

The studio lights were dimmed low, and the energy in the room crackled with excitement. Your bandmates were clustered around, phones in hand, eyes glued to the social media explosion that followed your latest diss track.

They seemed more excited than you. Especially now that you get to perform it live. You sat in the center, drinking your matcha drink with a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips. The track had dropped at midnight, and by morning, it had already become the talk of the town.

The song was everywhere now. Fans and critics were dissecting every line, every beat, comparing it to Sukuna’s latest attempt at a rebuttal. But this time, you’d hit a nerve. You knew that already. Sukuna’s the type to enjoy saying something about anything and everything. Your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced down to see a message from your manager.

"Check his story." it read. “Now.”

You quickly grabbed your phone, pulling up Sukuna’s social media. Sure enough, an Instagram Live was broadcasting in real-time. Ryomen Sukuna lounged on a familiar couch, the blue glow of his phone screen casting a soft light on his face. His expression was a mix of amused disbelief and genuine intrigue, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright, alright, you guys.” Sukuna drawled, glancing at the camera. “I gotta hand it to them—this track is… something. From you-know-who.” He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “But seriously, 'why you so obsessed with me?' That track is pretty interesting.”

He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “That hook… damn, it’s catchy. I’m almost flattered, really. Almost.” He paused, his grin widening. “You really think I got a Napoleon complex, baby doll? Because last I checked, I was standing pretty tall.”

The comments exploded—hearts, fire emojis, and a flurry of messages from fans of both sides, hurling playful and not-so-playful insults. He knew you would be watching his broadcast. You leaned back in your chair, smirking as you watched him. The song had clearly gotten under his skin, just as you’d intended.

Sukuna’s grin faded slightly as he continued, “But let’s talk about some of those lines. ‘Last man on earth still couldn’t get this’? Ouch. You know that’s not true, baby doll.”

Hesnickers, a mischievous gleam in his scarlet eyes. “Because if I remember correctly… you were the one who couldn’t stop staring at me from across the room just a while ago.”

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks, but you kept your expression neutral. No way you’d give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his words affected you. At least….You shake your head, continuing to drink your matcha drink. Not here, you think. It would be too obvious.

Sukuna leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “But seriously, props to you and your crew. You got everyone talking, and that’s what it’s all about, right?” He winked at the camera. “Now, I guess I’ll just have to come up with something to top it… and I will.”

He ended the Live with a cocky grin, and your phone buzzed again—a new message from your manager. “He’s biting. Good job. This is gonna blow up.”

Your drummer chuckled, “Did you see the way he was trying so hard not to laugh? He’s loving this just as much as we are.”

Your guitarist nodded, absently strumming a few chords. “Oh, he’s definitely going to come back with something. What’s the next move?”

You grinned, leaning forward, fingers tapping rhythmically on your knee. “Next move? We keep pushing. He wants a war, we’ll give him a war.”

Your bassist chimed in, “And if he’s obsessed, we’re gonna make sure he stays that way.”

The room burst into laughter, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. You had Sukuna’s attention, and you weren’t planning on letting go anytime soon. You stood up and put your drink away. “Alright, alright. Time to practice.”

A few hours later, as you were leaving the studio and headed for dinner with your bandmates, your phone buzzed again—a private message from Ryomen Sukuna himself.

“Nice track, baby doll. You got guts. But don’t think for a second this is over.”

You smirked at the screen, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you typed back a quick reply. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

With that, you hit send, knowing full well that this game of cat and mouse was far from over. The rivalry had taken on a life of its own, and you were ready to see it through to the end.

The days following the Instagram Live were a whirlwind of activity. The media coverage of your feud with Sukuna was relentless, and the buzz around both your diss track and Sukuna's playful response only grew louder. Your fans were eagerly waiting for the next move, while the anticipation among Sukuna's followers was palpable.

Your studio was buzzing with a new energy as your band prepared for the next stage of the rivalry. You were in a brainstorming session with your team, mapping out strategies and refining ideas. The stakes had never been higher, and everyone was determined to capitalize on the momentum.

As you reviewed some rough cuts of new material, your phone once more buzzed with a notification—a direct message from Sukuna on Instagram. You raised an eyebrow. Your curiosity piqued, and opened it to find a short video clip.

The video showed Sukuna lounging in his familiar and stylish, minimalistic apartment, the camera focused on his face. He had a relaxed, almost smug expression, and he started speaking directly to the camera.

“Hey, baby doll.” he began, his voice smooth and confident. “I see you’re still all fired up from our little game. Can’t say I’m surprised. But if you think you’ve got me cornered, you’re in for a surprise.”

He paused, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’m working on something that’ll blow your track out of the water. Something special, just for you.” He leaned in closer, his tone dropping to a more intimate level. “And I promise, it’s going to make you rethink everything you thought you knew about this competition.”

Sukuna ended the video with a wink, and the message was signed with a flourish: “Yours truly, Sukuna.”

You chuckled, impressed by his confidence and intrigued by his hint. You knew this was only the beginning of a new round in your ongoing rivalry. You showed the video to your bandmates, and they were immediately excited.

“Looks like Sukuna’s not holding back.” your drummer said, leaning over to get a better look. “What’s our move?”

You grinned, feeling the familiar thrill of competition. “We push the envelope even further. If he’s coming at us with something big, we need to be ready to top it. Let’s go all in.”

The team rallied, diving into planning and creative sessions with renewed vigor. Ideas were thrown around, debates sparked, and everyone was charged with the excitement of outdoing Sukuna. Later that evening, as you were reviewing the final mix of your new track, your phone buzzed again.

It was another message from Sukuna, this time with a photo attached. It was a behind-the-scenes shot from his recording studio, showing him with headphones on, a focused expression on his face. The caption read: “Just a little preview of what’s coming your way. Can’t wait to see your reaction 😉”

You couldn’t help but smile. The rivalry was as thrilling as ever, and Sukuna’s antics only made it more engaging. You replied with a playful message: “Bring it on, Sukuna. We’re ready for whatever you’ve got.”

As you finished up for the night, you felt a rush of anticipation. The battle between you and Sukuna had transcended mere competition; it had become an electrifying dance, each of you pushing the other to new heights. And you were more than ready for the next move.

The stage lights cut through the darkness, bathing Sukuna in a dramatic, almost ethereal glow. The crowd roared with anticipation, their excitement palpable as they waited for Sukuna’s next performance. You were in the VIP section, surrounded by your bandmates, eyes fixed on the stage. The rivalry had reached a new peak, and tonight was the next chapter.

Sukuna appeared at the center of the stage, wearing a tailored black suit that accentuated his confident, charismatic presence. His expression was a mix of cocky assurance and playful challenge. He grabbed the microphone with an almost theatrical flair, and the band behind him struck up a powerful, bass-heavy beat.

He began to sing, his voice dripping with both charm and defiance. The lyrics were a direct response to your latest track, each line crafted to counter your words with his own brand of swagger and wit.

“You think you’re clever with your little diss track, babe,

But let me show you what I’ve got—watch me take it back.

You throw punches in the dark, but I’m the light that blinds,

Every move you make, every line you drop, I’m right behind.”

The crowd cheered, their energy feeding into Sukuna’s performance. His voice was smooth and commanding, each note perfectly delivered with an edge of playful arrogance. As the chorus hit, Sukuna took a moment to address the audience directly. He flashed a grin and winked in your direction, his eyes locking with yours for a brief, charged moment.

“And you think you know me? Think you’ve got my number?

Watch me turn this game around, and watch you slumber.

I’m the king of this stage, and you’re just a player,

So step aside, baby doll, it’s time for a new layer.

Call me up, call me late, rumble some date.

Come on, be obsessed with me, get home late.”

The wink was truly unmistakable—a flirtatious, provocative gesture that carried both a challenge and a promise. You bit your lower lip. It was clear that Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just participating in this rivalry; he was fully immersed in it, relishing every moment and using it to his advantage.

Just as much, you also couldn’t help but be impressed, despite the competitive edge. The rest of his performance was electrifying, and Sukuna’s ability to blend his charm with his musical prowess only heightened the tension and excitement of your ongoing feud.

As the song ended, Sukuna raised his arms in victory, soaking in the applause and cheers of his fans. He glanced over at you again, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. The crowd’s energy was palpable as they chanted Sukuna’s name, and you could feel the shift in the air—an unspoken understanding that this battle was far from over.

You turned to your bandmates, a determined gleam in your eyes. “He’s got moves, no doubt about it. But we’ve got our own plans. Let’s give him something he won’t forget.”

══════════════════

YOU AGREED TO MEET UP IN HIS STUDIO. After all, you had a key to his studio. One of only two people, besides his manager. The echo of the door clicking shut behind you was the only sound in the dimly lit room. The minute you stepped inside, a familiar hand grabbed your waist, spinning you around with a rough but playful urgency. You couldn’t help but feel adrenaline rush through you.

You looked up to see Ryomen Sukuna’s smirk inches from your face, his eyes dancing with mischief. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as he lets his attention stuck on you for a little while longer. He’d just gotten here after a long schedule today, that you knew. But he just couldn’t pass up this moment. He missed you, after all.

“You’ve really done it now, baby doll.” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "That track? You know it’s all anyone is talking about. Got my fans in a frenzy, and I can't say I'm not impressed."

You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck. “Wasn’t that the plan?” you whispered back, feeling his grip tighten possessively around your waist. “To keep everyone on their toes? To keep you on your toes?”

Sukuna’s smirk softened into something a little darker, a little more heated. “Oh, you’ve got me on my toes alright, baby doll.” he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?”

You shivered at the feel of his breath against your skin, but you didn’t back down. “And you love every second of it, darling.” you shot back, daring him with your eyes. “Admit it, Sukuna. You like it when I push your buttons.”

He chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent a thrill through you. “Maybe I do, baby doll.” he admitted, nipping playfully at your earlobe. “Maybe I love watching you act all tough out there, throwing shade at me like you mean it. Gets my blood pumping.”

You tilted your head back, grinning up at him. “You think you’re the only one who gets a thrill out of this? Watching you strut around on stage, pretending you’re so unaffected…” You traced a finger along his jawline, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. “I know better. I see how you watch me.”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening. “Oh, you’ve got no idea what I think when I’m up there, you know.” he growled, his lips brushing against yours, the air between you charged with electricity. “No idea how much I want to drag you off that stage and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, fierce and demanding, pouring every bit of the adrenaline still buzzing through your veins into the press of your lips against his. He responded instantly, kissing you back with a hunger that made your knees weak, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, until there was no space left between your bodies.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, panting slightly, foreheads resting against each other. “I knew you’d enjoy it, our little roleplay.” you whispered, your lips brushing his with every word. “I knew you’d love playing this game.”

Sukuna laughed softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Oh, it’s more than just a game, baby doll.” he murmured. “It’s our foreplay.” He grinned wickedly, his thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Every line, every taunt, every verse… just getting me more worked up for moments like this.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned into his touch, your smile matching his. “So… what’s next?” you asked, teasingly. “Another diss track? Or are we moving on to something a little more… physical?”

He chuckled again, his lips brushing yours in the faintest of kisses. “Both, baby doll.” he whispered. “Always both. I’ll keep you on your toes, and you keep me guessing. That’s how this works, right?”

You nodded, feeling the thrill of his words spark through you. “You already know it well, darling.” you grinned at him, pulling him closer for another kiss, deeper this time, more intense.

Because behind all the public drama, the mock insults, the fan wars and the staged battles, there was something real—a chemistry, a connection, that neither of you could resist. No one else knows, and they didn’t have to. Because that’s what makes it fun, that’s what gets you hot, high for him.

This elaborate game of rivals was just another way for you and Sukuna to both express that pull, that irresistible need to keep challenging each other, to keep pushing each other’s buttons in every way possible. And you knew, as he did, that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As Sukuna’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with a fervent intensity, you felt the world around you blur into a haze of desire and adrenaline. His hands roamed possessively over your body, each touch a reminder of the raw, unfiltered connection that existed between you.

The heat of his skin, the firm grip of his hands, and the way he pressed you closer only heightened the sensation that this was more than just a physical encounter—it was an embodiment of the fierce rivalry and undeniable attraction that had been building between you two.

The way his fingers traced your curves, his touch both commanding and tender, spoke volumes. It was as if he was claiming you, not just in the heat of the moment but in a way that was deeply intertwined with the ongoing battle of wits and passion you both were engaged in. The contrast between his rough, assertive touch and the gentle caresses created a whirlwind of emotions, each sensation adding to the already charged atmosphere.

As you pull back slightly, your breaths mingling, Sukuna’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes dark with a mix of satisfaction and challenge. His smirk, still present, held a promise of more to come—more battles, more games, and an unspoken agreement that this was only the beginning of an exhilarating journey. For a moment, you think you fell in love deeper with him again.

The gradual approach of his fingertips was a slow, tantalizing tease, each moment stretched out with the deliberate pace of someone who knew exactly how to build anticipation. You could feel the heat from his touch even before his fingers made full contact, the mere thought of what was to come causing your breath to hitch and your body to respond eagerly.

As his fingers inched closer, their warmth and the promise of what lay ahead created a growing sense of urgency and need. The gentle caress of his fingertips, as they brushed against your inner thighs, was both intimate and assertive, a clear indication of his intent. The friction was electric, a stark contrast to the cool air around you, amplifying every sensation as his touch grew more purposeful.

You could feel his breath against your skin, each exhale sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, locked onto yours with an intense focus, conveyed both a challenge and a deep-seated desire. The way he watched you, his gaze dark and smoldering, only added to the overwhelming allure of the moment.

His fingers finally made contact with your womanhood, the touch both delicate and firm, exploring with a confident familiarity. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation as his fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles, teasing and testing. Each stroke was designed to elicit a response, to push you further into a state of heightened arousal.

A satisfied smirk curled on Sukuna’s lips, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of pride and desire. “You know it don’t you, hm?” he growled, his voice rough with arousal. “No one else can touch you like this, no one else can make you feel what I do.”

His words were a taunt and a promise, each thrust a reminder of the exclusive, raw connection between you. “You need this, don’t you?” he continued, his voice low and seductive. “You need me to push you, to make you feel every inch of me.”

Your breath hitched, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a moan slipped from your lips. He was relentless, and he knew it, his movements intentional and powerful, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Admit it, baby doll.” Sukuna demanded, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. “Admit that no one else can make you feel this way.”

You bit back a moan, your head tilting back as you fought for control, but the way he looked at you, the way he moved against you—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. “You… you’re so full of yourself, darling.” you managed to gasp, though the quiver in your voice betrayed how much he was getting to you.

Sukuna chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe.” he murmured, his lips grazing your neck, his teeth nipping at your pulse. “But you like that about me, don’t you? You like the way I take control… the way I make you lose yourself.”

As Sukuna’s breath grew heavier, mingling with yours, he leaned in closer, the heat of his body was all too much for you. His eyes, locked onto yours, held a smoldering intensity that combined both dominance and a profound passion. The teasing brush of his fingers, so close to your most intimate area, sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fiery need that built with every second.

When you finally released a groan escaping your lips, you held him tightly, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Sukuna’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and approval.

“You really get a load of it when it’s good, don’t you?” he teased, his voice low and filled with a playful edge. His tone was both confident and affectionate, the snicker that followed underscoring the satisfaction he felt in having pushed you to such a heightened state.

Sukuna’s words hung in the air, a provocative mix of satisfaction and challenge. His fingers continued their gentle, lingering caress, prolonging the aftershocks of your release. The smirk on his face was unmistakable—a blend of triumph and deep-seated affection that he only reserved for moments like these.

“You know, baby doll..." he said, his voice softening to a more intimate tone. “it’s not just about getting a reaction. It’s about knowing how much you need this—how much you crave every bit of it.” His hand moved with deliberate, gentle strokes, still teasing, ensuring that the aftermath was as intense as the build-up.

You looked up at him, breathless and flushed, meeting his gaze with a mix of desire and exhaustion. The connection between you two felt palpable, a mix of competition and passion that seemed to define every interaction.

“Is that so?” you managed to reply, your voice hoarse but laced with playful defiance. “And what makes you think you’re the only one who can bring me to that edge?”

Sukuna’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his lips curving into an even broader smile. “Oh, I don’t think I’m the only one. But I do like to think that I’m the best at it. There’s something about our… little games that just makes everything so much more exhilarating.”

He pulled you closer, his breath warm against your ear. “And you love it. Every second of it. The highs, the lows, the rivalry... it’s all part of the thrill.”

You shivered at his words, the heat of his body and the intimacy of the moment amplifying the connection between you. His touch was a constant reminder of the dynamic between you two—a blend of passion, competition, and mutual desire that made every encounter both electrifying and deeply personal.

As the intensity of the moment began to wane, Sukuna’s touch softened, and he held you close, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. The playful glint in his eyes remained, but there was also a deeper sense of satisfaction, as if the night had cemented something unspoken between you two.

“I guess we’ll just have to keep this up, you know?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

He starts to emphasize his words, his voice low and commanding, as he enters you with a slow, deliberate thrust that sends a shudder through your entire body. Each movement is precise, calculated, as if he wants to draw out every sensation, making sure you feel the intensity of him.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens reflexively, your nails scraping against his skin, leaving faint trails in their wake. The contact seems to please him, a low, almost primal growl escaping from his throat, vibrating through his chest and into yours.

The warmth between you both intensifies, the heat of the moment engulfing you. It’s stifling, but you crave more of it, each moment more consuming than the last. Your mind, once racing with scattered thoughts, is now empty, surrendered entirely to the sensations overwhelming you.

Every nerve is alive, tuned to the rhythm of his body against yours. As Sukuna pushes deeper, your world narrows to the singular, undeniable reality of him filling you completely. It’s overwhelming, exhilarating, and you’re lost in the sheer intensity of it. All that exists is him, inside you, and the way your body responds to every movement he makes.

“Say it, baby doll.” he insisted, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to send a sharp thrill through you. “Say you need me.”

Your heart pounded with thunderous applause, and for a moment, you hesitated, the words caught in your throat. But the way he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper, pulled the confession from your lips.

“I… I need you, darling.” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your body arching against his, craving more. “I need you, Sukuna. All of you.”

A satisfied grin spread across his face, his hold on you tightening as he captured your lips in a fierce, claiming kiss. “That’s right.” he murmured against your mouth, his voice thick with desire. “Only me. Always me.”

And with that, he moved with renewed intensity, each deep thrust and touch a declaration, a challenge, a promise that you were his—and that no one else could ever come close to what the two of you had. He was good, he was good at making you feel like this.

His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your shoulders, down the curve of your spine—each kiss a mark, a reminder that this, whatever it was between you, was uniquely yours. Every gasp, every moan he drew from you only seemed to fuel him more, his movements becoming more fervent, more determined to prove his point.

And you couldn’t help but revel in it—the way he knew your body, the way he knew exactly how to drive you to the edge and pull you back, just to see the need in your eyes grow stronger.

“You love it, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “You love the way I make you feel… the way I take you apart and put you back together again.”

You could only nod, lost in the rhythm of his movements, the intensity of his gaze, the heat that built between you. Because he was right—there was something about the way he touched you, the way he pushed you, that no one else could ever replicate. And in that moment, with his hands on your skin and his voice in your ear, you knew that you were exactly where you wanted to be.

He continued with a deliberate rhythm, his movements precise and relentless. You could feel the intensity building, every touch and motion sending waves of sensation coursing through you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a mix of pleasure and the sheer force of his actions. He always knew how to push you to the edge, how to test your limits, and tonight was no different.

Each thrust was a carefully measured challenge, a dance of dominance and submission that left you breathless, gasping for air yet craving more. The friction between you was electric, sparking and crackling like a live wire, building with every moment until you felt like you might burst from the sheer pressure of it.

Sukuna’s eyes never left yours, a dark, consuming gaze that seemed to see right through you, drinking in every reaction, every gasp and shiver. “You feel that?” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. “That’s what happens when you get me riled up and excited, baby doll.”

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat, your body trembling under his touch. He was relentless, every motion a reminder of his strength, his intensity, and the unique connection that bound you together. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, the kind of sensation that left you dizzy and reeling, your heart pounding in your chest.

But beneath the raw physicality, there was something more—a deep, unspoken understanding, a bond that neither of you could deny. His touch wasn’t just about possession or power; it was about claiming you in a way that no one else ever could. And in his eyes, you could see the same need reflected back at you, a hunger that matched your own.

“Tell me, baby doll.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Tell me you feel it too.”

“I feel it, darling.” you whispered, your voice breaking with the intensity of the moment, your hands gripping his arms as if anchoring yourself to him. “I always feel it… with you.”

A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze softening for just a moment, a flicker of something almost tender beneath the heat. “Good, good…” he said softly. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now… not ever.”

And with those words, he moved with renewed determination, his hands tightening on your hips, his body pressing closer, as if trying to fuse the two of you together. The rhythm between you became more frantic, more desperate, as if neither of you could get enough, as if the very air between you was charged with the electricity of everything left unsaid.

The world around you faded, until there was nothing but him—his touch, his voice, his breath against your skin. And in that moment, you knew that whatever games you played in public, whatever battles you waged on stage, nothing could compare to this. To the way he made you feel, to the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

And as the pleasure built to a fever pitch, you surrendered to the sensation, letting it take you over completely, knowing that with Sukuna, you would always find yourself right back where you belonged—in his arms, in his gaze, lost in the heat of this dangerous, undeniable connection.

Your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, a rhythm known only to the two of you. Sukuna’s grip tightened, fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of his presence, his power. His breath was hot against your neck, each word he whispered sending a fresh wave of heat through your veins.

"You're mine. Only mine." he murmured against your ear, his voice thick with conviction. "No one else gets to have this… to have you like this." His words sent a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone both thrilling and comforting in its intensity.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark desire and something deeper—something that made your heart clench in your chest. "You think anyone else could handle you?" he taunted, a sly grin spreading across his lips. "Handle us?"

You couldn’t help but smile back, despite the breathless state he had you in. "N–no one." you managed to reply, your voice a whisper, yet full of certainty. "No one else would even come close. Only you.”

His grin widened at your words, his eyes lighting up with that familiar mix of pride and satisfaction. "Damn right." he said, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, almost tender gesture before capturing them in a fierce kiss. “Only me.”

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, the air between you charged with an intensity that was almost palpable. "We could do this forever, you know," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his expression suddenly serious. "Keep pretending, keep pushing each other… but you and I both know the truth."

You looked up at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. "And what's that truth, Sukuna?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. "That no matter what happens on stage, no matter what anyone else thinks… this is real. What we have… it’s real."

For a moment, all the bravado, all the games, all the theatrics fell away, and it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of something deeper, something more profound. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of rightness settling in your bones. "Yeah, of course." you whispered back, your hand finding its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. "It’s real."

And as his lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, you knew that whatever this was—rivalry, love, obsession—it was something you wouldn't trade for anything in the world. Because with Sukuna, every line blurred, every touch sparked, and every word spoken between you felt like the beginning of a song only the two of you knew the lyrics to.

A song that, no matter how many verses you added, would never truly end.

══════════════════

epilogue

The social media buzz had been relentless since the rivalry between you and Sukuna had begun. Fans and media alike were glued to every update, eagerly dissecting every new development in your ongoing feud. It was a carefully crafted spectacle, each move calculated for maximum impact. But what came next was entirely unexpected.

Sukuna was known for his bold, often controversial social media presence, but this latest post took things to a whole new level.

The photo he shared was striking and intimate—a mirror selfie in which Sukuna stood with his back to the camera, his muscular body on full display. In front of him, you were barely visible, your form concealed mostly by his arm, his body strategically positioned to cover you. The image was provocative, suggesting an intimacy that had never been publicly acknowledged before.

The caption, simple yet loaded, read: “My baby doll likes excitement.”

The post exploded across the internet. Fans, already used to the charged tension between you two, were stunned into silence before erupting into a frenzy of speculation and excitement. The comments section was a whirlwind of reactions, from shock to adoration, as people tried to make sense of this unexpected revelation.

At first, there was a stunned silence from your side. You were sitting in your living room, scrolling through your feed, when you saw the post. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the image and the caption. The boldness of it was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Minutes later, your phone buzzed with notifications. Your own social media accounts were flooded with messages, your fans reaching out with a mix of curiosity and support. Some were confused, others were jubilant, but everyone was talking about it.

You decided it was time to respond, and you crafted a post that acknowledged the new development without backing down from the playful rivalry. You shared a photo from one of your concerts, the stage lights casting a dramatic glow.

Your hands were littering towards his naked chest while you were dressed on your stage outfit. He came to visit you and well....had fun in your waiting room. You added a caption: “Guess Sukuna’s not the only one who likes a little excitement. See you on stage, my darling.”

Sukuna’s reaction was swift and equally bold. He replied to your post with a comment: “Looking forward to it. Let’s see who can keep the audience more entertained.”

The exchange between you two set the internet alight. The combination of intimacy and competition only fueled the frenzy, turning your personal revelation into the hottest topic of the moment.

Behind the scenes, the two of you found solace in the chaos, a private celebration of your bold move. When you next met, the atmosphere was charged with a new kind of excitement.

Sukuna greeted you with a grin that spoke volumes. “Well, that certainly stirred things up, hm?” he said, pulling you into a fierce hug.

You laughed, your heart racing with the thrill of it all. “You’ve got that right.” you replied, looking up at him with a smile. “But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Ready for the next round?”

You looked into his eyes, a mix of challenge and affection in your gaze. “Always.” you whispered back. And with that, you both knew that whatever came next, it would be just as exhilarating and unpredictable as the ride you were already on.

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mysunshinetemptress · 5 months ago

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In The Moonlight

Leah Williamson x singer!reader warnings: None except shitty writing, fluff

A grin stretched across your face, wide enough to rival the jet lag currently waging war in your head. Two world tours back to back had been a whirlwind, exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure, Social media detox was the doctor's orders, a chance to reconnect with the real world however it was about to get a small pause with the absurdity of the TikTok trend.

Here you were, the hottest pop star on the planet, about to participate in a goofy social media challenge inspired by a goofy song from a sitcom.

You had stumbled upon a hilarious trend, people were reenacting the iconic scene from Modern Family where Dylan serenades Haley with his...interestingly phrased song, "In the Moonlight (Do Me)," and passing it off as their own in front of their family and friends. Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you watched one particularly enthusiastic boy singing the suggestive lyrics much to his parent's disgust and surprise.

"Right," you declared, voice thick with amusement, as you spoke into the phone"I'm breaking my social media blackout for this because I can't help but take part in this trend."

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you grabbed your phone heading to the living room where Leah and a few of your family and friends have gathered for the barbecue. "hey guys can I have your attention for a quick second, please..I know I'm supposed to be on a break but, I can't get this new song out of my head and I need your opinion on it, I actually think it might work for a single."

A collective groan went up from the assembled group. They knew your "work" mode well, and it usually involved long nights in the studio, not impromptu living room performances. But Leah, ever the supportive girlfriend, flashed a smile.

"Alright, Elvis," she said, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Hit us with this 'new song.'"

Taking a dramatic breath, you check the tuning of your guitar, "It's eh, well you all know who it's about, the same person as all my other songs..it's called In the Moonlight"

The first strum of your guitar sent a hush over the room. They expected the usual pop magic, the infectious energy that had propelled you to superstardom. Instead, your voice crooned out the opening lines of Dylan's "song" with a hilariously exaggerated earnestness.

"The stars are falling from the sky, and you're the reason why. The moon is shining on your face, and I think it's found its place."

Laughter erupted as you finished the first verse, shattering the stunned silence. Your face turned crimson, but you held your pose, trying to maintain a serious expression as you began the chorus.

"Cause maybe, baby, I just want to do you, do you, do you want to do me, do me, underneath the moonlight, moonlight."

Your friends began to laugh silently as Leah's parents and your parents looked on horrified.

"And now we're hiding in my car, I let you see my scars, escape the dark for just one night, your heart makes me explode with light."

Leah snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. Your family exchanged bewildered glances.

"Baby, maybe, Maybe I will steal you, steal you just so I can feel you, feel you, maybe that will heal you, heal you on the inside."

The last note of your "song" died down, replaced by the deafening sound of crickets...or at least, it felt that way. Your family and friends stared at you, mouths agape, the only sound a choked cough from Leah's dad.

The tension broke as Leah doubled over, tears streaming down her face. "Oh my god," she gasped between laughs, "that was amazing! You had them fooled for a good minute there!"

Slowly, the rest of the room caught on. Laughter erupted, first in hesitant chuckles, then in full-blown roars. Even Leah's parents faces still flushed with surprise, couldn't help but crack a smile.

Your parents, still trying to process the experience, shot you a look that mingled amusement with a hint of disapproval. "Honey," your mom began cautiously, "that wasn't exactly...subtle, was it?"

You grinned sheepishly. "Maybe not," you admitted. "But you gotta admit, the reactions were priceless!"

Leah walked over, shaking her head and trying to hide a smile. "You're a menace," she said, giving you a playful shove.

You posted the video a short while later breaking the internet once again. The next morning, your phone was buzzing with notifications. Fans everywhere were recreating your video. You were trending again only this time not because of your tour.

Leah smiled hugging you from behind the next morning "You know I love you and all the wonderful songs you write about me, us, our relationship, but please promise me you will never write anything like that."

Leah smiled hugging you from behind the next morning "You know I love you and all the wonderful songs you write about me, us, and our relationship, but please promise me you will never write anything like that." You laughed turning in her arms "I love you too much to write a song just about your body and my wants for it, no I'll write about you, your soul and sometimes when I feel extra fruity then I'll write about your body and my wants for it no my needs for it."

Leah pulled you in closer kissing you softly "And I'll be your number one listener."

#woso #awfc #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #woso soccer #woso couples #woso community #woso x reader #arsenal women #modern family

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spookystrns · 26 days ago

Text

small surprise

pairing : rapper!chris sturniolo x singer!reader

synopsis : reader is backstage at one of chris’s concerts when he decides to surprise the audience — and you

warnings : pet names (baby, toots), language, fluff, really short and really rushed

a/n : guys i’m back i swear

‘ music boyfriend, i'm your yum-yum

call me and i'll come ’

you’re currently watching chris on stage from the right wing, singing along to every lyric. honestly you wonder why the two of you haven’t recorded a song together yet. you’ve been official for around 7 months, behind closed doors of course. you considered posting a soft launch on instagram, but ultimately decided to wait until the release of your next album — which will only be in a few weeks. thankfully, none of your fans have suspected anything yet, so you know the soft launch will really get them thinking.

chris’s set so far has been nothing short of amazing. he’s so full of energy and the stage is really just a way for him to let it all out. you can tell the audience are loving it too, with the way they all scream every time he opens his mouth. but you can’t blame them; you are too. every time he gives you a subtle look you can’t help but internally squeal.

he’s just finished performing one of your personal favourites, ‘knock knock’, but now that he’s standing in the centre of the stage, everyone’s silent. chris gives you a quick glance, earning a small, confused smile from you. he turns back to the audience with a smile on his face before announcing: “this next song is unreleased, but it’s for the most beautiful and talented girl ever; my girlfriend.”

at hearing the announcement, the crowd roars with excitement. chris looks at you once again, this time turning his whole head to give you a big smile. although he didn’t say who his girlfriend was, it still felt big. he goes on to perform a song you didn’t even know he recorded, but you do know it’s your favourite ever.

that was the last song on the setlist, so chris says a goodbye and thank you to the audience before making his way off stage, towards you. he jogs to you, smile bigger than you’ve ever seen — he was clearly pleased with himself. you get pulled into a hug, then his hands are cupping your cheeks and his lips are on yours. you kiss back, obviously, smiling against him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“that was a surprise,” you murmur, pulling away just so your noses are touching. “yeah? a good surprise though, right?” his question is almost laughable, and you do let out a small giggle before responding. “yes, chris, a good surprise,” you smile and nod, earning a “good,” from chris before his lips are on yours again.

“what do you think about dropping your album a little earlier? and maybe i’ll consider releasing that song i wrote about you,” chris teases with a sly smirk as the two of you fall down on a couch backstage. you give chris a confused look as he pulls you closer to him. “i’ve already announced the release date,” is your response while looking up at him with your head on his collarbone. “fuck the release date,” his reply is quick, and it somewhat catches you off guard, furrowing your brows at him. “c’mon, baby, y’know you want to,” he gives you a look, a very convincing look at that. you roll your eyes before smiling slightly, looking back up at him as you reply. “i’ll see what i can do,” your words are quiet, but you know he hears you by the widening smile on his face.

“but if i do that, you have to release the song about me too,” you bat your eyelashes in an attempt to entice him, which he sees straight through. a low chuckle escapes him before he speaks, “okay,” chris nods, wetting his lips as he does. “okay?” you hold out your pinky finger, eliciting another chuckle from him as he locks his pinky with yours. “okay.”

you nod, satisfied with the promise, as you feel chris’s eyes on you. “hey,” he mutters, grabbing your attention. “i love you, toots,” his thumb begins softly rubbing a circle on your shoulder as you look up at him. “i love you too,” you smile, sealing your lips in a kiss once again.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ rapper!chris #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ singer!reader #rapper!chris sturniolo #singer!reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fandom

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reidmarieprentiss · 2 months ago

Text

I Love You, I'm Sorry

Summary: Based on this request! You write and perform a new song, Spencer hears it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x singer!fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: post break up blues, reminiscing past relationship

Word count: 2k

a/n: i hope this is what you wanted <3333

main masterlist

Backstage, your heart raced. The thump of the music and the roar of the crowd seemed to pulse through your entire body as if the whole of Madison Square Garden was vibrating with your nerves. You took a steadying breath, trying to collect yourself, but it was hard to ignore the flood of emotions clawing up from deep within. The thin straps of your dress sat delicately on your shoulders, and you smoothed your hands down the ruffled fabric, hoping that the trembling would stop.

This wasn't just any performance—it was the performance. A surprise song, one no one was expecting. One that held the raw, unfiltered truth of your heartbreak. "I Love You, I'm Sorry." You had written it when everything was still fresh, when the pain of your breakup was like a shadow that followed you everywhere. At the time, it had been too hard to even think about sharing with the world. But tonight, you were ready.

The understage elevator began to rise, and you closed your eyes, willing the nerves to stay down, to let your voice and the song take over. The cheering above grew louder and louder, shaking the very ground beneath you. The audience didn't know what was coming, and part of you reveled in that—the sweet anticipation, the feeling of holding something so dear to yourself just a moment longer.

When the platform locked into place, the stage lights were blinding, but they were familiar, almost comforting in their brightness. You took another breath, one more attempt to steady yourself, and pasted on a smile as you faced the crowd. The warm air filled with thousands of screams and cheers wrapped around you, the collective energy swallowing you whole.

Then, the first soft notes of "I Love You, I'm Sorry" filled the arena, a gentle melody drifting across the vast sea of faces. It was only seconds, but you could feel the change in the crowd, the gasp of realization—their screaming rising to a fever pitch, louder than anything you'd heard all night. This was something new. Unheard. Unseen. Yours.

You gripped the mic stand tighter as the lyrics began to spill from your lips, each word carrying the weight of the heartbreak and healing you'd experienced. For the first time, you weren’t just singing to them—you were sharing a piece of your soul, one you’d kept hidden until tonight. And in this moment, standing on stage with the sound of your voice echoing off the walls, you felt like you could finally let it all go, each note a step towards something new, something freeing.

This was your moment. Your truth. And as the crowd listened, every word hung in the air like a shared confession—a story that was yours but felt like it belonged to everyone who ever loved, lost, and tried to find their way back.

Two Augusts ago

I told the truth, oh, but you didn't like it, you went home

You're in your Benz, I'm by the gate

Now you go alone

Charm all the people you train for, you mean well but aim low

And I'll make it known like I'm getting paid

—

Penelope’s phone buzzed on the desk, lighting up with a notification that had her immediately squealing with excitement. Her eyes darted to the screen, and she gasped, hand flying to her mouth as she read the alert. It was from a fan account—one dedicated to her absolute favorite artist. The one she had posters of plastered all over her home office and whose songs made up nearly every one of her playlists. And they had huge news: a surprise song, performed live tonight, and someone was streaming it illegally.

Normally, Penelope would never (lol) endorse anything illegal, but this was different. This was a once-in-a-lifetime moment she couldn’t miss. With barely a thought, she tapped on the link, the stream immediately popping up on her screen. The image quality wasn’t the best—dark and shaky as someone tried their best to hold their phone steady over a sea of swaying arms—but the audio was good enough. And Penelope’s heart pounded in her chest as she realized she didn’t know the song.

She pressed the phone closer to her ear, listening as the artist’s voice rose above the noise of the crowd. It cut through the chatter like a blade, the lyrics flowing effortlessly.

That's just the way life goes

I like to slam doors closed

Trust me, I know it's always about me

I love you, I'm sorry

“Reid!” she shrieked, almost dropping her phone in her haste as she rushed to her feet. She moved faster than she had in ages, practically leaping down the rows of desks to where Spencer was hunched over, diligently working on his reports. The bullpen was nearly empty at this late hour, with only a few agents scattered here and there, too tired to react to Penelope's sudden outburst.

Spencer’s head jerked up at the sound of her voice, his face a mixture of surprise and confusion as she dashed toward him. “Reid!” she repeated, more insistently this time. “You have to see this!”

He blinked, looking between her and the glowing screen of her phone, a bemused expression spreading across his features. “What’s going on?” he asked, leaning back in his chair as she thrust the phone right in front of his face.

The phone's speakers crackled slightly as Penelope thrust it closer to Spencer's face, the low-quality audio doing nothing to dull the sharpness of the voice that poured from it—soft, melodic, achingly familiar. Spencer's pulse quickened as soon as he heard the voice, and his breath caught in his throat. That voice... It was you. It was your voice. And every word that spilled from your lips seemed to slice through the silence, embedding themselves into the space between his ribs like a blade.

Two summers from now

We'll have been talking, but not all that often, we're cool now

I'll be on a boat, you're on a plane

Going somewhere sane

And I'll have a drink

Wistfully lean out my window and watch the sun set on the lake

It might not feel real, but it's okay

'Cause that's just the way life goes

I push my luck, it shows

Thankful you don't send someone to kill me

I love you, I'm sorry

Spencer's mouth went dry as the lyrics tumbled out in your voice—so familiar, like a touch he'd longed for but hadn't felt in ages. The melancholy melody hung in the air, weaving a story so heartbreakingly intimate that it felt as though you were standing right there, whispering the words directly to him. He couldn't move; his eyes were glued to the shaky video on Penelope’s phone, but his mind was far away, drowning in memories he’d tried so hard to keep at bay.

Every note, every breath in your voice struck a chord within him. And the lyrics—the lyrics stung. Spencer could feel the thin layer of calm he'd built around himself start to crack, the words hitting too close to home, exposing emotions he'd tried so desperately to hide away.

His fingers clenched the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white as he fought to steady himself. Did you still... love him? Despite everything? Despite the separation, the silence that had stretched between them like an unbridgeable chasm?

I love you, I'm sorry.

"Reid?" Penelope’s voice sounded distant, her usually bubbly tone filled with concern as she took in Spencer’s reaction. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You were the best but you were the worst

As sick as it sounds, I loved you first

I was a dick, it is what it is

A habit to kick, the age-old curse

I tend to laugh whenever I'm sad

Stare at the crash, it actually works

Making amends, this shit never ends

I'm wrong again, wrong again

The words cut him deep. Each line seemed to hold up a mirror to your past—a past he’d tried so hard to bury, but one that never really stayed buried. Spencer could hear the regret in your voice, and it only made his own regrets bubble to the surface. His eyes stayed fixed on the screen, and he could almost see the intensity in your eyes, the way you closed them as you sang, finally letting the truth out.

He couldn't breathe. It was too much. He could feel the familiar tightening in his chest, the way his heart ached like it was being squeezed by a vice. You had always known how to say exactly what you felt, even if you didn't always share those thoughts with him when you were together. But this... this was different. Every note felt like a confession. A confession of the mistakes you made, the mistakes he made.

God, you were beautiful. You looked so beautiful that it hurt to look. It hurt to remember how it felt to hold you, how you fit perfectly in his arms, how your laugh had always been contagious, how your voice could calm every storm in his mind. He could feel a tear prickling at the corner of his eye, but he blinked it back, forcing it away. He couldn’t lose himself like this, not here, not in front of Penelope.

But he knew why she was showing him this—of course, he did. He knew Penelope adored you, both as a fan and as a friend. But more than that, he knew Penelope loved him, and seeing him carry the weight of the breakup had broken her heart just as much as it broke his. She probably thought showing him this would help, somehow. Maybe hearing your voice again would bring some sort of closure. Or maybe, Penelope just wanted him to know that you hadn’t forgotten about him either. That you still felt something.

The way life goes

Joyriding down our road

Lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me

I love you, I'm sorry

“Penelope,” Spencer's voice cracked as he tried to speak, his gaze never leaving the screen. He wanted to tell her to turn it off, to shut it down before he completely unraveled right there in the office. But he couldn’t. The sound of your voice had him rooted to the spot, and every breath felt like a struggle.

Penelope bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before she spoke. “I... I just thought you should see this, Spencer. I know you’re not, like... together anymore. And I know you never talk about it. But... this song... it’s about you. I just know it is.”

Spencer let out a shaky sigh, gripping the phone tighter as your voice filled the air around them. He couldn’t stop the memories from flooding in—the way her your smelled when you rested your head on his shoulder, the way you’d laugh at the smallest, silliest things just to make him smile, the fights, the apologies, the “I love you’s” whispered in the middle of the night.

And now, all those memories seemed to wrap themselves around the lyrics you sang—lyrics that felt like a secret letter meant just for him. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to listen to the rest of the song, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away, either.

The way life goes (you were the best but you were the worst)

(As sick as it sounds, I loved you first)

I wanna speak in code (I was a dick, it is what it is)

(A habit to kick, the age-old curse)

Hope that I don't, won't make it about me (I tend to laugh whenever I'm sad)

(Stare at the crash, it actually works)

I love you, I'm sorry

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry

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uniquexusposts · 2 months ago

Text

Another Love - C. Leclerc

Summary: Y/n and Charles broke up and Y/n preforms a heartbreaking song about their breakup. A/N: I don't know what this piece is supposed to be, but it popped up in my head. Every once in a while, I'm getting back to listening Another Love over and over again. Enjoy reading :) Credits: Tom Odell - Another Love

The lights dimmed as the crowd roared. Y/n took a deep breath as she took place behind the piano on the stage. She took a sip of the ginger tea and adjusted the microphone.

Y/n L/n, a very respected and loved sing and songwriter, was preforming on one of the biggest festival stages of her career. Over the last seven years, she worked hard for this moment. She could finally say she made it. She should be excited about it, but she was feeling mild about it. Perhaps of her recent breakup. Her ex-boyfriend supported her during her career, like she did with his. And knowing she would about to sing the record breaking song, made her feel anxious. To many people it was a hit, to her it was her grief.

Her hands rested above the keys and when she pressed them in, the crowd cheered once again. A smile grew on her lips, this moment was so special to her; this was the first time she played her new song live. This was the first time they heard the song. She began to sing, her voice steady, but underneath, a current of emotion ran wild. The words bled from her lips, each line cutting deeper than the last.

I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care... But it’s cold and I don’t know where.

As she sang, images of her ex-boyfriend flickered in her mind; the late nights, the laughter, the silences that grew between them until the distance was too much. He had been her everything. Until he wasn't.

Meanwhile, Charles Leclerc sat on his couch, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, trying to ignore the heaviness in his chest. It had been months, but somehow, everything reminded him of her. Her smile, her laugh; her absence.

A notification lit up his screen. A video.

Charles clicked on it, and there she was. Y/n. Performing on a massive stage, her voice piercing through the screen.

"Wait..."

He sat up straighter, watching as the performance unfolded. His stomach twisted, the lyrics crashing down on him like waves. It wasn’t just a song. It was their story.

On another love, another love. All my tears have been used up.

His breath hitched. It was all there: everything they'd never said, everything that tore them apart. The late-night arguments, the constant travel, the things they'd tried to fix but couldn’t.

He watched her, radiant and fierce under the stage lights, baring her soul to the world. And the world was eating it up. The video had thousands of comments, the hashtags trending, and every single one of them knew the truth he was now grappling with.

This song was about him.

Charles' hands shook as he tossed his phone to the side, as though putting distance between them would somehow ease the weight pressing down on his chest. But it didn’t. The song was everywhere.

Y/n belted the chorus with everything she had left, her chest tightening as the adrenaline surged higher because she heard the crows sing so loudly, mixing with the ache that had been there for months. The lights flashed, the stage seemed to grow smaller, and for a moment, it was just her and the song; a private confession laid bare for the world to witness.

I wanna sing a song that’d be just ours, but I sang ‘em all to another heart.

It made it more emotional because no one knew the song, she was telling to song, sharing her story. But mostly, talking to Charles. All Y/n could think about was how the love she sang about wasn’t gone. It was still there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and regret. But it was fractured, scattered across the months of distance between them.

By the time she reached the final notes, her breath was ragged, but she pushed through, finishing the song with a rawness that left the crowd momentarily silent before they erupted into thunderous cheers. Y/n’s heart raced, her chest heaving, and she could feel the sweat slicking the back of her neck as the adrenaline surged one last time.

The cheers were deafening, the flashing cameras blinding, but as she stood on stage, soaking it all in, she felt utterly exposed. She had given them everything; her heart, her pain, her love. And now, it was out there, a piece of her forever tied to the song. This song was over, and there were just a few more seconds left before the next song would begin. She smiled at the crowd. Even though it was tough, she was so overwhelmed by the reaction. That was why she loved to preform.

Charles sat on the floor of his apartment, his phone lying face down beside him. He’d thrown it there after watching the performance loop for the fifth time. He couldn’t escape it. The way she sang, the raw emotion, the way everyone sang it along, the way the lyrics had ripped him apart all over again; it was like the world had caught a glimpse of his soul without his consent.

He raked a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. But the notifications kept lighting up his phone; mentions, comments, articles already popping up about Y/n’s performance. He’d tried to ignore it at first, but as the hours passed, it became clear that the internet had figured it out.

Headlines flooded his screen:

“Y/n L/n’s Heart-Wrenching New Song Sparks Breakup Rumours with F1 driver Charles Leclerc!"

"Y/n Confirms Split with Emotional Performance—Another Love a Nod to Leclerc?"

Charles groaned, standing up and pacing. The media had already been circling them for months, speculating, whispering, but they had kept quiet about the breakup. Now, Y/n’s song had blown the lid off it. There was no hiding anymore.

He picked up his phone and sent a message to Pierre.

"Have you seen this? They're talking like they know everything."

Pierre’s response was quick.

"Mate, it’s everywhere. You alright?"

Charles didn’t reply. He wasn’t alright. He wasn’t sure how to handle it, but one thing was clear; he couldn’t just sit here and let the world spin this narrative. His PR team was already calling, trying to figure out how to manage the situation. But what could he even say?

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 months ago

Text

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 12

Lena's entire body seems to buzz as they hover in the wings offstage, waiting for the cue to proceed. She bounces on the balls of her feet, fingers twisting together with uncharacteristic nerves, completely unlike the staid presence she'd run into under the National City arena.

"You okay?" she asks hesitantly.

"I've never shared new music live before," Lena confesses. "What if they hate it?"

"Nah," Kara dismisses. She smiles. "They'll love it, cuz its you."

If nothing else, the novelty-- the privilege-- of witnessing a live performance of a never-before-heard song would ease any negativity the song itself might earn down the line. Even Kara herself hasn't had a chance to hear it.

The nearest stagehand motions one minute to go. Finally, Lena stills, taking a moment to breathe deep.

"You've got this," Kara promises, before stepping away.

The lights dim, then go out entirely as the pre-show music quiets. In its place lifts a deafening roar from the crowd. Its so dark Kara doesn't see Lena move into position. One minute she's there, and the next an overhead spotlight snaps on to illuminate Lena centerstage, arm stretched high.

She waits for the din to just start to fall away, and then she's off without a single shred of her anxiety from just moments before. Her movements are strong and confident as she strides across the stage, playing to the crowd in just the right way to get them pumped and engaged for the next two hours.

Her first song is the same from the National City show, as is the second, and third. Kara doubts anything has changed, no doubt so rehearsed Lena could do it all in her sleep, singing included. But watching it again feels an all new experience.

It steals her breath away, and she only comes back to herself when Lena slows, reaching for a mic stand. This is it.

"I know you guys came here prepared to sing along with every word," Lena begins, even her speaking voice rich like velvet. "Which I'm sure you can sing better than I can at this point."

She earns a raucous burst of laughter, and prompts a giggle from Lena.

"But I'm afraid this next one is going to be all me... cuz I've a little something new for you tonight."

Kara thinks she might have lost her hearing, ears ringing in the answering explosion of cheers. Lena patiently waits for the opening to continue, grinning all the way.

"It's pretty self-explanatory once you hear it, but here's the thing: you know that ex who keeps reaching out? Believe it or not, I have one."

Another round of laughter, and a little bit of hollering.

"I thought I blocked him on everything, but I must have missed something, because guess what I got?" Lena pauses for comedic effect. "A cashapp payment for three dollars and thirty three cents."

Laughter fills the arena, and Lena joins with a delighted giggle. "The note of course asked me to call him, but... I don't know. What do you think?"

Cries of No! and Don't do it! echoed from various areas of the audience, and Lena nods.

"I think we're on the same page then. Three dollars and thirty three cents doesn't earn you a phone call..." Lena leans in close to the microphone. "But it might just earn you a song."

The audience laps it up, eliciting even more whooping cheers. Lena nods, half to herself, and half to the audience.

"Let's hit it!"

As soon as the music starts, Lena shifts effortlessly back into performance mode. Kara listens, bopping along to the bouncing beat and playful lyrics. Playful but scathing, it turns out, listing off all the reasons this mysterious ex will never see her again.

From her spot in the wings, Kara sees the crowd dancing, not singing but cheering and spinning and bouncing and absorbing it all with reckless abandon. She registers Lillian's approach beside her, but doesn't so much as glance at her. Whatever Lillian thought about Lena's plan, it was working. Tomorrow, all the world would care about is getting their ears on this new song-- and they would love it.

"You have no idea the bullet she just dodged for you."

Kara does look over at that. Her brow furrows sharply, and Lillian smirks as she watches her daughter perform.

"This time tomorrow, the world is going to be so busy sleuthing out which of her ex's this song is about, they won't even remember your name."

Onstage, Lena finishes her song with a boisterous laugh, letting the fresh cheers roll over her. Lillian turns to Kara, leaning in close.

"So when you ultimately decide this fantasy isn't for you, remember that a twenty four year old is the reason you'll still have a real life to go back to."

#supercorp #musician age gap au #another shortie but goodie #not sure I'll be able to post any more today #so wanted to put this up now before I forgot #lemme know what you thiiiiiiiiink

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colourstreakgryffin · 10 months ago

Note

I saw you're taking Hazbin hotel requests so I thought I'd shoot my shot! So reader is a young boy who also died around Alastor's time(Early 1930s) . He's so confused and overwhelmed by how fast everything is progressing. So when he hears Alastor humming/singing a song from the 1930s he feels a sense of comfort and familiarity. Bonus if it also happens to be their favorite song! Take your time and you're amazing!

Oooh! Fourth Alastor request and I am having such a great time with this! This man is so fun to write for! After I finish here, I am gonna go cook some Jambalaya then pop it into my pentagram and summon Al so he can cook me!

Alastor- Night & Day

Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom…

when the jungle shadows fall

like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock

You don’t recognise anywhere you are… this place. It’s hot, dark, dangy and uncomfortable. There’s nothing here resembling Earth and it’s shaking you to your core. Not having the strength nor confidence to move anymore from the alleyway you were just dropped into upon arriving here from the pentagram in the dark sky. Everyone is too much for your young mind. Well. Other than that, those lyrics…

As it stands against the wall

Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops

When the summer shower is through

So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you

That song is a symbol of comfort for you. Night & Day by Cole Porter. Something your mother use to sing to you every night before bed, the sound of pretty rain hitting your open window as that beautiful sweet woman would sing over and over again, all without it growing repetitive, until you fell asleep. Having wonderful dreams all the time

Even though you’re scared out of your mind, you begin to walk out to the streets. Packed to the brim with all kinds of weird-shaped adults but you avoid most of the them, weaving through this thick crowd to find the source of the soothing lullaby of your whole life and the voice singing it. It sounds dapper, transatlantic, if not an old radio. Is it coming from a radio?

Night and day, you are the one

Only you beneath the moon or under the sun

Whether near to me, or far

It's no matter, darling, where you are

I think of you

It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Running around to find where that wonderful singing is coming from and it feels like the person is constantly teleporting, no adult should be this frustrating to find. Or, you’re just too overwhelmed from being dropped into literal Hell to even realise your coordination skills are as dropping as you did. Your mind is racing to come to terms with what’s going on

This isn’t New Orleans at all… and not a single trace of your parents around. Are you alone? No. No. You don’t want to be alone, you’re too young to be alone. Is everybody here too evil to care about a literal child Sinner being stuck on his own and having to fend for himself in ways he doesn’t know how to…

By all the unholy gods. Somebody help

Day and night, night and day, why is it so

That this longing for you follows wherever I go

In the roaring traffic's boom

In the silence of my lonely room

I think of you

The loud noises of talking, of the wall of built-in weird flat devices screeching and echoing, the patter of footsteps. It makes you want to hide away and sleep to try shake off all the distress and overwhelming feelings you are being tormented with but that song is way too recognisable and comforting for you to ignore so you just keep pursuing it

Maybe, it’ll be pointless and the singing source will be from a Radio of your year but it almost feels like the song is organic and from a person. That means there is an adult of your time here. A man from the 1930s, Hell, he may be somebody of your family! That’d be wonderful and your hopes are high that when you do find the source, it’s somebody you’ll get to embrace and talk to

Day and night, night and day

Under the hide of me

There's an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me

And this torment won't be through

Until you let me spend my life spreading love

A flash of bright red crossed your eyes when you finally had managed to shakily but stubbornly and determined, pasted through the big careless and if not almost hypnotised by the running TVs crowd, and continued down the road in half sprints. Following a array of melodically humming, recreating the beat and rhythm of the song as it seems the source is quite invested in such a song

It felt like forever following a mere sound across the city’s streets but there he is. The source of the singing, he’s so close that you can finally reach a arm out and take his hand to catch his attention

Day and night, night and day—

The man instantly mutes his singing. He is tall, in a nice fancy coat with long hems at the bottoms, with a pair of what seemed to be tall deer ears on the top of his head and his pale face branded with a permanent toothy grin, he looked both menacing but yet friendly. Turning around to face the nine-year-old Sinner running around the Pride Ring’s own Pentagram City’s streets to chase the source of a song of familiarity and now has chased and caught his hand, Alastor reacted rather friendly and understanding to be presented with a child of his own era

Leaning down to be kneel before this young confused on-the-verge-of-crying boy, the Radio Demon says smooth and curious with that same radio effect almost overlapping his charming transatlantic accent, placing his free hand on your little shoulder

Something about Alastor reminded you of a popular figure from New Orleans you’ve met before

“Greetings there, young man… tell me, where are your parents?”

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sherewrytes · 1 month ago

Text

↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader

REBLOGS HELP ENGAGEMENT

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

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

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

Mafia Au, street racer au, dark romance au

character lookbook

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

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

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Taglist: (you can comment to be added)

@sparkling-obsidian @queendessi24 @masterofthepp @thedondiva45 @laitifly

Previous Next

Chapter 3: Life of the party

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Megumi shrugged, completely unfazed. "Just saying."

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

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

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

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

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

And then you saw him before he saw you.

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

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

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

But it was Toji who held your attention.

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

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

Toji’s POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here we go, Toji thought, bracing himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey there, nephew.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, that fire seemed even more dangerous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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