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littlemissmentallyunstable · 1 month

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thanks for you request!! I’m SO SO SO sorry it took me so long to complete, there has been so many edits and rewrites and start overs but anyways, here is the final product, I’m praying it doesn’t disappoint. my motivation has not been there lately… anyways I gave it a go, hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

title: the hawthorne with the green eyes

pairing: jameson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: your avery’s best friend and she’s suddenly been thrown into a world that isn’t her own and she needs you… but in going to support your best friend, you don’t expect a certain someone to take you interest

warnings: mild swearing and mentions of the reader having a dead father

a/n: this is set mid the first inheritance games book, timelines may clash a little but work with me please 😭😭

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @heartwithsimplenotes @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual

“I go on holiday for two weeks and of course that’s when everything blows up,” I exclaimed over the phone.

Avery was down the other end. I’d practically just stepped foot back in my house after fourteen glorious days in Europe and just about had time to fling my suitcase to the corner of my room before I straight away called her. How did I miss everything?! Pretty much as soon as the plane touched down back in America my phone practically blew up with messages and calls and news alerts. Suddenly my best friend’s face was all over TV and I had a billion DMs from people I’d never even talked to before.

“Timing is impeccable as always,” Avery laughed.

“Tell me everything,” I said.

Screw jet lag, this was way more important. We had the longest conversation I think I’ve ever had in my whole lifetime. She told me all about the will of this mysterious Tobias Hawthorne and the people involved. She explained how she’d been flown all the way out to Texas and was now required to live in Hawthorne house for at least a year where basically the whole family resided. Including four of Tobias’s scarily hood looking and intelligent grandsons.

“I can’t lie, this all sounds like it’s been plucked right out of a novel,” I said.

“42.6 billion dollars,” she confirmed, “what gets more fictional than that?”

“Ave this is crazy,” I replied, eyes as wide as saucepans.

“I can’t believe it,” she responded with a long sigh.

“You’re literally a billionaire,” I murmured. Saying it out loud made it even more real, even more shocking.

“I never thought I’d hear anyone say that out loud,” she said, then she sighed again,“I just can’t work out why I inherited it, I mean over his family it doesn’t make sense.”

“Well what did his grandsons have to say?” I asked.

“One thinks it’s a game of sorts, like a puzzle,” she explained, “their grandfather used to give them puzzles when they were younger and he thinks I’m the final one.”

“Are you okay?” I questioned suddenly, feeling guilty I hadn’t asked her right away,

“Yeah I’m fine,” she exhaled, “I’m a billionaire right?”

“No, I mean are you really okay?” I clarified, “because if it were me I know I wouldn’t be.”

“I think I’m okay,” she replied, hesitating a little.

“Avery,” I sang in an accusing tone.

She laughed a little and then, “I don’t know how to feel about any of this,” she sighed, “god I wish you were here.”

“Then I’ll come,” I blurted out, the instinct too prominent to ignore.

“What?” she gaped, as I pictured her with a hanging jaw.

“I’ll come to wherever you are, seen as you can’t come to me,” I replied, “that is if you want me to.”

“Of course I do,” she said, “but that’s a long trip for you and-“

“I don’t care about any of that,” I interrupted her before she went off on a selfless tangent, “seeing you is going to make whatever I have to do to get there worth it.”

“You’re an angel, a real life angel,” she whispered and I could hear the smile in her voice.

I laughed, “see you as soon as possible, I have a plane ticket to book.”

“Wait,” she told me suddenly, making me jump a little, “I’m paying.”

“Avery-“ I said, attempting to begin to decline.

“No, you can’t even decline because I’m a billionaire,” she snapped before I could even say no, “heck I could buy you the whole plane if I wanted.”

“You don’t have to do any of that,” I pressed further.

“Let me buy the ticket, it’s the least I can do,” she said, “and I’m getting Oren to pick you up from the airport.”

My mind flicked back to her explanation, the name sounded familiar. It took a few minutes for it to finally come to me, “Isn’t that bodyguard?”

“He’s the only one I’d trust with your life,” Avery explained.

“God Ave, you make it sound like I’m going to get shot,” I attempted to joke.

“I really need to be cautious at the moment,” she said, warning in her voice, “this whole billionaire business is not as glamorous as it seems.”

“Oh Avery,” I murmured sympathetically, “I’ll be there to hear every last drop in a few hours, okay?”

“Thank you,” she said, he tone thick with gratitude, “you have no idea how much this means to me.”

***

Next thing I knew I was on a first class flight to Texas at three AM in the morning. I’d never flown first class before. It’s a shame I didn’t get really experience it, seen as I fell asleep for the entire flight, still exhausted from my previous travels. For the parts I was awake, it was beautiful and such a lovely smooth ride. When I’d finally made my way through passport control and grabbed my luggage I was in search of Oren. Avery had text me the number plate of the car ready to pick me up. Seemed she’d forgotten to mention it was a limo I was being picked up in. That information alone would’ve sorted me out just fine as there was only one limo at the pick up station. I walked up to the window and tapped on the blackout glass. It rolled down all of a sudden, making me jump. A man sat in the front, a flat serious expression on his face.

“Identification,” he said before I could even get a word out.

Identification? What the hell did that mean?

“y/n l/n,” I guessed, my name seeming like a viable option for a response.

“Physical identification,” he clarified.

“Can’t you see my face?” I asked, not really knowing what else he meant by physical identification.

“Do you want to get in this car?” he deadpanned.

Great! I’d gotten on the wrong side of Mr. Smiley now.

I wracked my brain for what he could mean by physical identification, “do you want my passport or something?”

“That’ll do,” he nodded sharply.

I fumbled around in my bag like an idiot until I find my passport. I handed it over as soon as I could.

He took it swiftly and analysed it for a good few minutes, “okay jump in.”

“Are you Oren?” I asked, swinging the back door open and putting my suitcase down by the seats.

“Most certainly,” he replied, as I slid in.

“Avery mentioned you,” I clarified, worried he might he starts speculating I’m an enemy imposter dressed up as Avery’s friend coming to commit a murder.

He gave me a thoughtful look as he began to pull out of the pick up station, “all good things I hope?

“Very good things,” I reassured him.

He smiled to himself, almost looking touched, “that’s nice to hear.”

We fell into an awkward silence. There was nothing more necessarily to be said but something hung in the air waiting to be said, but I don’t think either of us could work out what. Thankfully for me, it was Oren who broke the silence first.

“It is also nice Avery has a friend coming to stay with her but I hope you understand you won’t be able to have your normal coffee and catch up anymore, Avery’s life is so different now,” he said, his tone authoritative and serious.

“I know,” I nodded, “I understand how dangerous it all is. I’m just here to make sure she’s okay.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he replied, “you are a good friend.”

“This is the bare minimum,” I shrugged lightly, “and I know she’d do the same for me if ever I needed it.”

And that was true. She’d do anything for me in a heartbeat. Avery needed me right now, so that’s exactly where I’d be.

***

The rest of the car journey was relatively smooth. I conversed briefly some more with Oren, having the standard school and home life, getting to know me talk. I didn’t mind his company at all, he was a genuine man with a kind heart. I could tell as much from just that hour in the car. When we finally pulled up, sunrise is on the horizon. The house was a phenomenon.

I got out of the car and just stared up at it, my jaw dropped in pure shock. The exterior was huge and it looked like a castle crossed with a Manor House crossed with the worlds biggest mansion. Everything about it screamed prestigious. It reminded me of a historical palace I once toured when I was younger.

“It’s quite something, isn’t it,” Oren smiled, handing me my luggage.

“Oh thanks,” I nodded, “and yeah, woah. Avery owns the whole of this?”

“Every acre,” he nodded.

“Someone needs to pinch me, so I know I’m not dreaming,” I murmured, “it’s magnificent.”

“It truly is,” Oren agreed.

I stared up at the building again and attempt to take in the grounds. It’s so vast I can’t even see all of it. It expands for what seems like forever. I was so lost in thought when my name was shouted that I nearly didn’t hear it altogether.

“Y/N!” shouted a voice. It could only be one voice.

“AVERY!” I screamed, whipping my head around.

I spotted my best friend and suddenly discarded all of my luggage, it somehow seeming irrelevant at this time. We sprinted towards one another as fast as possible and collided. I flung my arms around her and squeezed her as tightly as humanly possible, it’s a wonder I didn’t suffocate her. She did the same, holding me so close that I heard the uneven thumping of her heart in her chest. I inhaled the comforting scent of her perfume as I closed my eyes, suddenly feeling at home in her arms. I didn’t even realise I was crying until we pull away from each other.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she laughed, tears also rolling down her cheeks.

“You better believe it girl,” I smiled, “thanks for the plane ticket, first class is gorgeous.”

“Get used to it,” she told me, with a little wink.

“No, I’m not becoming a gold digger friend,” I shook my head, putting a palm out, “I refuse.”

“We’ll see,” she said, with a graceful shrug.

“Nope,” I shook my head stubbornly.

“Let me show you the house,” she said, veering the subject elsewhere.

“I know you said it was big but you didn’t mention it was this big,” I gaped, my eyes glued to the structure.

She smiled sheepishly, “big was a bit of an understatement on my part.”

“You think?” I laughed, still trying to drink up the details.

As we walked up to the doorstep I became aware of movement coming from behind us, I turned around to see Oren walking around two meters behind us. Quickly I whipped my head back around to Avery, to avoid awkward eye contact with him.

“Does he follow you everywhere?” I asked, dropping my voice low.

“Most places,” she shrugged in reply.

I raised my eyebrows.

“It’s not as creepy as it seems, trust me,” she said, “he’s very subtle.”

“Okay,” I replied unsurely, tempted to turn around again.

“Just don’t think about it,” she told me as we approached the door.

I tried to, but it was impossible not to be aware of someone tracking your every move. I began to wonder if I’d been microchipped with cameras and microphones yet. Avery grabbed the door handle and turned it, pushing the door open to reveal what looked like magic.

It seemed even larger on the window with its towering central staircase and large windows. The corridors seemed endless and so did the rooms within them. The floorboards were wooden and glossy, clearly expensive. The carpeted parts were velvet, they must’ve been. I wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that everything was embroidered with some sort of gold laced trim. A large, intricately crafted chandelier hung roundly from the ceiling, glistening with crystals. It was mesmerisingly beautiful. And my best friend owned it all.

“Ave…” I trailed off, at a loss for words.

“I know,” she nodded, beaming at me, “come in.”

“I feel like if I walk on the floors I’ll scratch them or something,” I scoffed.

“Don’t be stupid,” she grinned, yanking my arm so I practically fell in, “where should we go first?”

“Shouldn’t we pick up a map or something?” I joked, “is there a tour guide who can show us around?”

She giggled, “I’m your certified map and tour guide today.”

“Lucky me,” I winked, “where to first, oh noble one.”

“How about my room?” Avery suggested.

“Yes! I need a room tour!” I replied, excitedly.

“This way,” she said, grabbing my hand and cocking her head towards the large central staircase, that split into two.

***

I’d thought the house was beautiful but I couldn’t believe Avery’s room. Heavenly was an understatement. She had a queen sized bed sat in the middle of the room, that looked so comfy just staring at it made me sleep. She had a chest of drawers and matching vanity and a massive bookshelf that I was green with envy of. I noticed two bifold doors on one side of the room, which confused me.

“Open them,” she grinned, as if reading my mind.

Slowly I curl my hand aground the edge and pried the two doors apart. I almost fainted at the sight. A walk in wardrobe. Of course I’d seen them in the movies but never in real life, in someone’s house. It was such a massive wardrobe, it reminded me of that scene from Barbie, where her wardrobe seemed endless.

“No way!” I gaped at her.

“Way!” she winked.

There were of course other species of furniture, like shelves, a desk and chair, a beanbag, bedside tables, an armchair and so much more. Anything could ever want or need was in that room. Like the huge TV or the mini fridge. There was a small door on the other side, which I presumed lead to an en-suite, as I caught a glimpse of bathroom tiles inside as the door was slightly ajar.

“It’s definitely an upgrade from the car,” Avery exhaled.

I looked at her sadly. I’d offered her to live with us for a while so many times, but she declined each and every time. I thought it was because she didn’t want to be a burden. She never deserved the life she had, she deserved this now. After all she’d been through, all she’d lost, all she’d worked for, she deserved this. And secretly I was glad a random dead billionaire left her in his will.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said quietly.

“What look?” I asked.

“The one where your eyes go all sad,” she murmured.

“My eyes go sad?” I said, almost laughing.

“You know what I mean,” she rolled her eyes, then sighed, “I wanted to live in my car okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled, unconvinced.

No one wants to live in their car, it’s something you’re forced to do when your home is no longer liveable. But I didn’t press the matter, those days were long gone now. Now she had this. She pulled me down onto the mattress beside her. We laid down staring up at the ceiling, my head resting on hers. We didn’t say anything for a good while and the silence was comforting, it was nice. It allowed us to breathe a little.

“This house is full of secret passageways,” Avery murmured after a while.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“Nope,” she grinned.

“This just gets more and more like a mystery movie by the second,” I replied, wide eyed.

“I know,” she said, “I’m finding it a little mental.”

“A little?” I scoffed.

She laughed lightly, airily. It was a pretty laugh but not a proper one, if I’d been looking at her face, I was sure that the smile wouldn’t have quite reached her eyes.

I say up and she followed suit, so I looked into her eyes and asked her, “are you really okay?”

There was a long pause. Hesitation. It told me everything already but still I waited for her to respond.

“No,” she sighed. It surprised me that she said that. Avery wasn’t one to admit she wasn’t okay very easily, not even to herself. So the fact that she was admitting that to me out loud spoke volumes. She was really not okay. I didn’t say anything right away and let her carry on.

“This is a lot,” she exhaled, “and I know it makes me sound so selfish. I have everything and anything I could ever want but it’s just so much to adjust to.”

“You don’t sound selfish, you sound human,” I reassured her. She needed to know that her feelings were normal, if I were in her position I know I’d be a mess. But she was here, holding it all together or trying to at least.

“I have a helicopter, a freaking helicopter and there’s all these interviews I have to do, functions I have to attend,” she exclaimed, “I don’t know what to do with myself half the time. I mean it’s so obvious I don’t fit in, I wasn’t born into all of this.”

She took a sharp breath in and I decided I needed to let her rant and get these things off of her chest.

“School is like a living hell, most people hate me,” she groaned, “private school is not for me, I’ve got no friends there and everyone seems to be either shooting me weird looks or whispering my name. And it shouldn’t affect me and I know it’s pathetically stupid but it really does.”

“Hey,” I soothed, rubbing up and down her arms, “kids are stupid and you know they’re just jealous. Besides you won’t be in school for that much longer anyway. One, two years with these people and then you never have to see them again. And you’ve only just joined recently, there’s time to make friends if you want to. And I’m only a call away, no matter where you are, what time it is, we have phones for a reason.”

“Yeah,” she blew out a breath, “yeah, okay.”

“You can carry on,” I told her, “just get the weight off of your shoulders.”

“I don’t want to complain, it feels wrong,” she sighed.

“Nu-uh,” I snapped wagging my finger, “you’re a human with feelings which means you have every right to complain so shoot girl.”

“Thank you, really,” she said, her big hazel eyes deep with gratitude.

“Stop thanking me for doing the bare minimum, this is like getting you a spoon from the cutlery drawer when you ask,” I said, “now tell me, what else?”

“My life is apparently constantly at risk, I mean I have bodyguard who is standing outside this door right now,” she replied, “I could be killed. Literally killed. And people want to do that to me and that’s so hard-“

Her voice broke and she struggled ro pull herself together, despite how hard she was trying. I instinctively enveloped my arms around her and pulled her tight to my chest

“I’m sorry Avery,” I murmured, “that’s awful, absolutely awful. But you have Oren and you know he’s going to take good care of you, you have whole teams of people preventing that from happening.”

She mumbled an indecipherable response and let a few tears slip.

“And these stupid people aren’t making things any easier for me. All of them are so…” she trailed off, “I can’t find the right word to describe them. Grayson thinks I’m some sort of threat and I’ve inherited this money because I’m a scheming, lying, manipulative snake. Xander seems to live to confuse me, constantly throwing out weird phrases that just throw me off. Nash, well Nash is just very laid back, he doesn’t seem to care about me or my role in the will which is good, but I don’t like the way he looks at Libby. And Jameson…” she hesitated, “Jameson thinks I’m just a game, one left by his grandfather. And the worst part is I dont even know what I’m here and I can’t figure it out.”

“Yet,” I replied.

She titled her head, confused, “What?”

“I can’t figure it out yet,” I explained.

“That’s patronising,” she said, “are you trying to take me back to first grade?”

“It might help you,” I shrugged.

“First grade?” she laughed.

“An open mindset,” I clarified.

She doesn’t reply.

“These grandsons for the most part seem a bit snobbish if you ask me, you shouldn’t pay too much attention to them,” I said, “they’re not worth you at all. You’re not a snake, you’re not stupid, your sister isn’t a prize and you’re not a game. You know this, in here,” I press my palm on the left side of her chest, “don’t let them make you forget it.”

She smiled through glossy eyes,“what would I do without you?”

“Have a mental breakdown in the shower alone and pretend it’s all okay,” I guessed.

“I did that yesterday,” she told me.

“Damn it I didn’t get here fast enough,” I joked, my heart breaking at the thought of Avery sobbing all alone.

She cracked a weak smile, “you got here, you are here, that’s all I care about.”

“Just take a second and breathe, okay?” I said.!

“Breathing,” she replied. I could hear she was breathing in and out in a rhythmic, calming motion.

“Good, keep going,” I nodded in encouragement.

We fell into silence again but like most of our silences, neither of us felt discomfort. I let her breathe, I let her think, I let her have the moment to herself I know she’d felt to selfish to take since she got here.

“Better?” I asked after a while.

“Better,” she nodded her head.

“You’re going to get through this, it just all seems a lot right now because you’re not used to it and it’s all come at once,” I said.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she replied.

We wrapped our arms around each other, a warm hug acting as some sort of cocoon, excluding the outside world for mere moments. I breathed in her shampoo, the smell comforting. We stayed in each other’s arms for long time. We had both needed it.

“I’m really glad your here,” she whispered as we pull away.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” I told her.

***

“I still can’t believe you live here now,” I exhaled, the side of my cheek pressed on her head.

We’d gone back to talking, catching up on each other’s lives for a bit. It seemed we just never could stop talking. And it felt good.

“I know, it’s crazy,” she admitted, “me and Lib have just about got used to it.”

“Libby’s here? Now?” I asked excitedly.

Avery nodded.

“Please can we go and see her?” I asked, “I haven’t seen her in so long.”

“Of course,” she grinned, “I’m just going to ignore the fact that you love my sister more than you love me.”

“It’ll probably make you feel better,” I shrugged, teasing her slightly.

“Hey!” she laughed, slapping my arm lightly.

I’d forgotten how much I’d missed Avery’s company. She wasn’t just my best friend, she was part of me. Every time we were together I was just immediately elevated. I needed her.

“What? You said it,” I grinned, poking my tongue out.

“My best guess is that she’s baking in the kitchen, so we’ll look there first,” she explained.

“How comes she’s baking at nine in the morning?” I asked.

“She’s productive,” Avery shrugged.

I nodded as we exited her room. I followed Avery, presuming she would know where she was going. But after a labyrinth of corridors and a few smiling landmarks, I began to doubt her orienteering skill and decided we were lost.

“Ave I swear I’ve seen that suit of armour before,” I mentioned to her.

“There’s a suit of armour?” she asked.

“We’ve seen it like three times now,” I nodded, pointing to it.

She tilted her head and examined it, “we have not!”

“I’m telling you we definitely have,” I replied,

“You have walked past it four times actually,” a sudden voice said, making me jump out of my skin.

I turned around to see a boy coming up behind us. He was very tall, towering over both Avery and I. There was a bounce in his step and amusement in his voice, he was young, energetic and full of life. He had dark skin and a small grin planted on his lips. And there was a certain wistful sparkle in his eyes. I presumed he was one of the four grandsons, but I was trying to work out which one due to the descriptions Avery had given me.

“Have you been watching us?” Avery scoffed, arms folded,

“I just happened to notice you walking past four times,” the boy shrugged.

Avery narrowed her eyes at him, “why did you count?”

“I wanted to see how many tries it would take you until you realised you were lost,” he replied coolly.

“We’re not lost,” Avery insisted.

“Are you sure?” he chuckled, eyebrows raised.

“I call it non-purposeful wandering,” I piped up

He looked at me for the first time, his deep chocolate eyes meeting mine. His eyebrows now shuffled inwards and he tilted his head to the side, “I don’t recognise you.”

“I’m y/n,” I smiled, “I came to visit Avery.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he nodded, “did you only just arrive?”

“It was about an hour ago,” I shrugged in reply.

“Did you fly all the way out here?” he asked me.

“From Connecticut to Texas,” I confirmed with a short nod of the head.

“Now tell me,” he said, looking very serious, “do robots interest you?”

I side glanced at Avery and she subtly signalled for me to carry on conversation.

“I’ve never really thought about it before,” I said honestly.

“How have you lived your life without thinking about robots?” he gasped, looking somewhere between purely shocked and offended.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “should I start?”

“I’d strongly advise you to,” he said, “they’re most interesting.”

“Is that why you’ve got a singed eyebrow and oil on your sleeves?” I asked, not being able to suppress my mind’s curiosities.

“Observant,” he smiled.

“That’s what they say,” I replied awkwardly, knowing Avery would tease me about this later.

“Robots have a tendency to explode when you get them a bit wrong,” he explained, “if you can get past that, it’s great.”

“Explosions don’t really sound like my cup of tea,” I said, “but I suppose you never know until you try.”

“You have a good spirit,” he told me, “I think you would work well with robotics.”

“Thanks,” I replied, taking it as a compliment to mask my confusion over the whole conversation. I took him as someone who you just rolled with, no matter what. So that’s what I was attempting to achieve.

“Blueberry or lemon?” he asked me.

“Blueberry, no matter the context,” I answered without missing a beat.

“I like you,” he nodded, “Avery can we keep her?”

“For the time being,” she grinned, “unless she starts biting.”

“Can’t make any promises,” I winked then turned back to the boy, “you know your way around this place right?”

“Most of it, though I still discover a new secret passage way every now and then,” he shrugged, as if it were the norm to find secret passageways around your house.

“Do you know how we get to the kitchen?” Avery asked.

“And you said you’re not lost,” he teased her.

“She’s testing you,” I said,

“Is it because you got stuck non-purposefully wandering on your way there,” he smiled, using my precious wording,

“Precisely,” I nodded.

“Okay then,” he replied, “to get the kitchen you just need to follow these suits of armour and when they stop take two rights and walk down your closest set of stairs. You should find it there, if I’m not mistaken.”

My jaw hung slack, “you memorised that?”

“Sort of, thought I usually end up stumbling upon the kitchen by accident through a secret passage way,” he shrugged, “it’s an important room to locate.”

“I guess,” I agreed

He nodded, “Safe travels.”

“We’re not trekking across a desert,” I laughed.

“No,” he smiled, “this is much worse.”

And with that he turned and walked in the opposite direction. We watched him until he exited the corridor and went off elsewhere.

“That’s Xander,” Avery filled me in.

“The one who’s addicted to scones?” I asked, the blueberry or lemon question finally making sense.

“Yes, that’s him,” she confirmed.

“Yeah that figures,” I nodded, “I like him.”

“He’s nice, I mean he doesn’t act like he wants to kill me all the time so that’s a plus,” she said.

“Oh yeah, when do I get to meet the angel of a man who keeps wishing you death?” I grinned.

“Hopefully you won’t have to,” she grimaced

We finally made it to the kitchen, after a few wrong turns and a game of eeny-meeny-miny-mo. I spotted Libby from the doorway. She was piping vibrant blue icing, almost the colour of her hair, into a pink sponge cupcake. I snuck up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, tightly squeezing her closer. She let out a small gasp in surprise.

“Guess who?” I murmured excitedly.

“Is this real or does someone have to pinch me?” she asked, the smile in her voice.

“It’s real,” I assured her.

I let go of her and she spun around, cupping my face in her palms.

“Y/n!” she beamed widely at me, brining me in for a hug, “hi love, it’s been a while, huh?”

“Too much of a while if you ask me,” I mumbled into her.

“Glad to see you again,” she smiled as we break apart. The unspoken ‘make sure my sister is okay’ running through her eyes.

“Me too,” I replied, silently reassuring her of the reason I was here.

“I’m starting to think you prefer my sister to me,” Avery scoffed, scooping a little buttercream onto her finger tip and popping it into her mouth

“Sometimes I do,” I replied mischievously.

“Hey,” she complained.

I stuck out my tongue in reply.

“Ooo please taste this,” Libby said, quickly grabbing a couple of cupcakes and handing one to both me and Avery.

“Well it’d be rude not to,” I grinned, taking one gratefully.

“It would,” she agreed as Avery broke the half of the bottom off of her cupcake and put it into of the icing to make her little cupcake sandwich.

I stared at her in disapproval, “you are a monster for doing that.”

“You’re just bitter because it’s the smartest way to eat a cupcake,” she replied.

“When you eat a cupcake you shouldn’t be analysing how you eat it you should just eat it how it is,” I exclaimed passionately. We’d had this fight many of times and I would never stop backing my corner.

“I don’t want icing smeared up my nose,” Avery defended, “and this is the best way to prevent that.”

I shook my head and took a bite of my cupcake, like a normal person. The flavours tantalised my tastebuds, teasing them to crave more. The cake itself was airy and light, not too dry but not too moist. It was the perfect cake to icing ratio and nothing was over sweet or too artificial. It was like heaven on my tongue. I’d really missed these.

“So…” Libby asked, nervously, “what do you think?”

“How do you do it?” I replied, taking another bite.

“Good?”

“That’s an understatement,” I told her, “is there fairy dust in this or something?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” a new person entered, cutting off whatever Libby’s reply was. His accent was definitely Texan and I looked up to my surprise to find an older looking man. Well not old at all, just older than me. I presumed he was in his twenties. He wore a cowboy hat, titled slightly to one side and from under it I noticed his brownish-blondish hair. He had hazel eyes and a sharp jawline but what stood out to me was his nose. He had a similar nose to Xander which gave him away to being another grandson, but which one?

“What are you doing here?” Libby asked, annoyance in her tone.

It surprised me. I had never heard Libby talk to anyone with any remotely negative connotation. I widened my eyes and looked to Avery who only shrugged in response.

“Coming to check up on you and your crazy cupcake baking obsession,” he explained, walking further into the room.

“I don’t need checking up on,” she grumbled, turning back to her piping bag.

“Oh I know that darlin’,” he smiled. It was the kind of smile that you don’t see often, the kind of smile that shows everyone else in that room that the person who is being smiled at is the other person’s whole world.

No one had ever smiled at me like that.

I scooted closer to Avery and whispered, “Are they…”

“I don’t know, I’m 99% sure but it’s not official,” she explained quickly.

“Oh okay,” I nodded.

We watched as they bickered, back and forth for a little bit, unsuppressed smiles on both of their faces. They meant something to one another, even if they didn’t know it yet. They continued to argue until the cowboy noticed my presence.

“Who’s the new one?” he asked, nodding at me

“New one? She has a name,” Libby said sharply.

“I’m y/n. Avery’s friend and Libby’s practically adopted little sister, nice to meet you,” I introduced myself.

“Am I even relevant anymore?” Avery sighed.

“Nope,” me and Libby grinned simultaneously.

“Nash,” he nodded, shaking my hand, “nice to meet you too.”

“We’re going to get going now,” Avery said, “I haven’t shown her the bowling alley yet.”

My eyes widened, “bowling alley?”

“Catch you guys later,” she grinned, pulling me out of the kitchen.

“You have a bowling alley in your house,” I said, still in shock, “why didn’t you tell me already?”

“When’s the best time to bring up the fact you have a bowling alley, I mean it’s not exactly normal conversation,” she told me.

“Okay fair enough,” I responded, as we start walking again, “so are we meeting everyone like it’s a parody of sorts?”

“Seems like it,” she sighed,

“Tour of the hottie Hawthorne’s,” I joked, spreading my arms out to reveal an invisible sign.

She giggled, “hottie?”

“Oh please, you can’t deny it, they’re all gorgeous so far,” I said.

She looked around cautiously, “they could be listening you know?”

“Oh well I’m sure they know,” I scoffed, “besides you’re telling me that you don’t find at least one of them attractive?”

“Moving on,” she said quickly, brushing over the subject, with pink-tinged cheeks.

“Are you blushing?” I asked her.

“No,“ she replied bluntly, “shut up.”

“You’re blushing,” I sang, “which one is it? Oh please tell me Ave!”

“None of them,” she insisted, digging her heals in.

“I don’t believe you,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.

She replied, “that’s because you have trust issues.”

“No it’s because I know you’re lying,” I told her.

She didn’t reply.

“You better tell me fast because I will attempt to make a move on one of them at some point,” I warned her, “Nash is already out of the question because he’s Libby’s, so which ones yours? I’ll pick between the other two.”

She laughed. It was the first time since we’d met up that I’d seen her properly crack a smile, her eyes fully lighting up, “pick whoever you want, no one’s mine.”

“You might regret saying that later on,” I warned her.

“Doubt it,” she shrugged, “just be careful, okay? These people, this family… just be careful.”

“I will, promise,” I nodded, “so who’s on stage next in ‘let’s meet the Hawthorne brothers’.”

“It’s a surprise,” Avery said,

I smiled, “oooo how intriguing!”

We turned the corner and I noticed someone approaching. Avery did too, as I noticed her breathing sped up a little.

“Speak of the devil and I mean the literal devil, here comes another,” she muttered.

Approaching us was a blonde. Like his brothers, he was tall, but not as tall. He was dressed in what looked to be a highly expensive suit and matching designer shoes. His face was serious and unemotional, like it was paralysed in a state of seriousness.

“Woah, hello jawline,” I mumbled, after catching a glimpse.

“Wait until he looks you in the eyes,” Avery murmured.

“Oh god he walks really fast,” I said quietly, as he approached closer and closer.

She grinned at me, “rich boy leg strides.”

I tried to smile but fail, “Why is my heart beating so fast?”

“He has that effect of people,” she shrugged, “intimidation.”

“Why does he look like he wants to kill me,” I said under my breath when he was about two meters away.

“That’s just his face,” she reassured me.

I began to ask another question, “Are-“

“Shut up,” Avery hissed and I understood why. The blonde had stopped infront of us and he was staring me up and down, as if he were scanning for some sort of hidden weapon I had.

“Who’s this?” Goldilocks snapped, his voice clearly portraying his dominance.

“A friend,” Avery replied curtly.

“A potential threat,” he said sharply.

Why did everyone in this place think I was some sort of axe-murderer. Was it common in Texas or something?

“She’s none of your business,” Avery grits through her teeth.

“We’ll see about that,” he replied walking away.

He hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, though I couldn’t work out if it was because he felt I was too below him or he just didn’t feel a need to. Whatever it was, it was clear that there was a tension between those two, but I decided not to bring it up yet.

“What’s he going to do? Research me?” I scoffed.

Avery shrugged as we continue walking, “probably.”

“You’re kidding!” I laughed.

“I wish I was,” she said, wiping the smile off of my face.

“So I take it he’s the one that hates you for breathing?” I clarified, mentally ticking him off of my list of what Hawthorne’s I had met and what ones I hadn’t.

“Yep,” she nodded, “that was Grayson.”

“Yeesh, his jawline looked dangerously sharp,” I winced.

“Better not get on the wrong side of it,” she winked.

“I think I already am,” I blew out a breath, “I mean if looks could kill…”

“Oh we’d both be long gone,” Avery giggled.

“I get the eye thing now,” I groaned rubbing my eyes, “god, ouch, it burns.”

“Doesn’t the piercing grey just give you a headache?” she asked.

“It really does, have you got aspirin?” I said.

She shrugged, “somewhere in the maze of a house.”

“Was he wearing a designer suit?” I was dying to ask.

“Always,” she nodded.

“You’re kidding, all the time?” I gaped.

She sighed, “All the time.”

***

We spent the rest of the day in various different places. I adored the library and the dance studio as well as the karaoke bar and swimming pool. These people had everything. But something was playing on my mind. I’d met three of the four Hawthornes, which meant there was still one to go. I hadn’t seen the other all day, but I had stumbled across his brothers another few times. I found it odd. Avery only shrugged when I asked her about it and presumed he was drunk somewhere. Avery and I had also convinced ourselves Grayson had a murder club, consisting only of himself, and we were the first on his hit-list. We figured if we went, we’d go together so it’d be alright.

Somehow, after touring not even a quarter of the house, we ended up back on her bed again, me catching her up on old school drama. I’d forgotten that she’d missed the break up of the century with an added cheating scandal from the girl with the guy’s brother.

“Hey I just need to run and find Libby a minute, I’ll be back,” she’d told me, after she’d received a text in her phone.

“Everything okay?” I checked.

“Fine,” she nodded once, “I’ll be back soon.”

But soon didn’t feel that soon. It was a little awkward sat in someone else’s bedroom without them. I didn’t know what to do with myself. After a while, I decided I should look for Avery. I opened the door and smacked into someone and almost toppled over.

“You should really watch you’re going, heiress,” the person said.

“Maybe you should too,” I scowled, looking up to meet a pair of alluring green eyes.

“You’re not Avery,” he replied, looking very confused.

“Gee, you’re observant,” I rolled my eyes, then suddenly felt a pang of guilt, “sorry, I tend to overreact when I’m pissed off.”

“A quality we share,” he grinned slightly.

“I wouldn’t call it a quality,” I said.

I stared at him properly, he was tall with dark, unruly hair. He had a similar bone structure than his brothers but his face was softer than Grayson’s, his features warmer.

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” he smiled, a witty, mischievous smile, “Jameson Hawthorne.”

He extended a hand towards me and I took swiftly it. His grip was hard, strong I noted. Jameson, the brother I was yet to meet. And dare I say it, he was the best looking by far.

“So who are you?” he asked.

“I’m y/n,” I said, “I’m a friend of Avery’s, I’ve come to stay with her.”

“That’s nice of you,” he commented, a little awkwardly.

“It’s the least I can do,” I replied quietly.

He doesn’t say anything back but I don’t want him to. It was hard enough focusing on conversation when he was looking at me. He was gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. His whole face with was the picture of perfection. Symmetrical, but not harshly, it was more of a mellow, kind symmetry, that enhanced all of his features. His soft looking lips, his nice shaped nose and his eyes. God those eyes. They were a rich green like nature, glistening with intelligent thoughts.

“Well I suppose I’ll see you around then,” he said, pocketing his hands.

“I suppose you will,” I replied.

He walked away slowly and I realised that evening that my stomach fluttered whenever I thought about the Hawthorne with the green eyes.

***

That night I found it so hard to sleep. Avery was out in a mere few minutes but I couldn’t even shut my eyes. Tossing and turning and tossing and turning until I got so bored that I just slipped out of bed all together. I pulled a pair of socks on and left Avery’s room, beginning to wonder the dark hallway. I didn’t really think any of it through. Wandering in the dark, alone, in a house I didn’t know, surrounded by people I didn’t know.

“Midnight wandering are we?”

His voice made me jump but I didn’t let him see that. I turned around to see Jameson Hawthorne stood behind me. How long had he been there then? He looked so poised, so ready, like a big cat on the prowl. He needed to know I wasn’t his prey.

“Maybe,” I replied, a smile adorning my lips, “but even if I am I don’t know why that’s any of your concern.”

“Maybe I’m not concerned, just curious,” he said, “are you lost?”

“No,” I lied to myself and the world.

He waited a few beats.

“Maybe a little,” I smiled shyly, “this place is even harder the navigate in the dark.”

“Lucky for you I know it like the back of my hand,” he did, extending his hand towards me.

I stared at it, “do you want me to hold it or something?”

“No,” he shrugged, “I mean if you want to-“

“No,” I blurted out quickly, “not at all.”

He dropped his hand, a shadow of an expression I couldn’t read shifting across his face.

“Follow me then,” he said, shooting me a lopsided grin that I somehow manage to make out in the dark.

I walked beside him. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and slightly baggy pyjama pants. My cheeked heated up as I suddenly became horribly aware that I was dressed in my pyjama top reading ‘I need coffee’ and shorts decorated with cartoon coffee cups. I hoped Jameson wasn’t paying that much attention to me.

“So why are you awake?” he asked casually.

“I can’t sleep,” I replied bluntly. There wasn’t much more to it.

“Straight forward as that?” he said.

“Pretty much,” I shrugged, “why are you awake?”

“Can’t sleep,” he replied, with a small smile.

“Copycat,” I teased.

“Am I stealing your thunder?” he played along.

“Very much so,” I said, folding my arms across my chest, with a pointed stare laced with banter.

“My deepest apologies,” he exaggerated.

“Not accepted!” I exclaimed.

He grinned, then shoved his hands in his pockets, “Where do you want to go first?”

“Where would you like to take me?” I countered.

“I respect people who answer questions with questions,” he noted.

“Good because I do it far too often,” I told him.

“We’re going to the games room,” he announced.

“Why?” I questioned, like a whiny child.

“Because it is where I’d like to take you,” he shrugged delicately, before picking up the pace with longer leg strides.

I struggled to keep up as I asked, “this isn’t going to be like one of those sadistic murders where you cook me alive and blame it on someone else is it?”

“How did you figure out my master plan?” he teased, with a joking expression.

“I guess you’re just too predictable,” I replied, with a laugh.

“So you watch true crime then?” Jameson said.

From that comment I gathered he was an analyser. Just like me. He analysed conversation and made educated assumptions about people. But what split us apart was that he had the courage to say it to there faces, I kept all my observations in my head. I didn’t care if they were unconfirmed. But Jameson did.

“I listen to a podcast now and then, not a fanatic or anything like that,” I replied.

“Should we play a game?” he said to me, changing the subject suddenly.

“I thought we were going to a games room?” I said.

He thought for a moment and then responded, “a pre-game game.”

“I’ve heard you and your family are quite fond of those,” I said.

“Oh really?” he joked, quirking a brow.

“Yes really,” I grinned back.

“I see,” he pondered “and do you like games?”

“Depends,” I replied.

“On…” he prompted.

“What I’m playing,” I told him, “who I’m playing it with and why I’m playing it.”

“Interesting,” he hummed, opting thoughtful tone, “the man who makes it doesn’t want it, the man who buys it doesn’t need it and the man who needs it doesn’t know it yet.”

“Is that a riddle?” I almost laughed. It was so out of the blue, so sudden asking me a riddle in the middle of a conversation.

“Is my last name Hawthorne?” he countered with a smirk.

“A coffin,” I answered briskly. It wasn’t difficult to work out.

His eyebrows flew to his forehead, “that was fast.”

“Your riddle was maudlin and far too simple,” I shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow, “too easy? Okay, let’s try another and see if you’re as cocky.”

“Not cocky, just honest,” I replied.

He paused for a moment, thinking, “how can you physically stand behind your father while he is standing behind you?”

“My father is dead,” I said. It was true. I don’t know he I suddenly felt the need to blurt it out. It just happened.

“Oh-“

“But we’d have to be standing back to back,” I replied quietly, “that’s the answer to your riddle.”

“Correct again,” he nodded, then hesitated, “and I’m sorry about your dad,”

“Oh it’s okay, it’s not your fault,” I shrugged lightly, “I was young when it happened.”

I didn’t remember much, just being told I wouldn’t see him ever again. I had asked why and they had said he was going to stay in the stars now. And when I asked them if he’d ever come and visit, they told me couldn’t. So I cried. During the most part of my childhood I despised the stars, I’d stare up at them with a tear streaked face and curse them for stealing my dad. When I got older I realised the only thief was death and that the stars were nothing but a metaphor to hold a memory.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

I shoot him a small smiled, letting him know I’m okay and that we can move on. He read my expression well and together we carry on. After a little while he stopped in his tracks outside a set of doors. I almost crashed into the back of him as he paused to abruptly. He swung both doors open at the same time, having a little ‘Elsa’ moment in let it go, as he walked through with his held high. I quickly followed, trying not to gape at the extraordinary components of the room.

There was a pool or was it a snooker table, there was air hockey, ping pong, table football, everything you could ever imagine. There was also a regular coffee table, surrounded by comfy looking chairs and a sofa. But what caught my eye the most was the games cabinet. It was a sight to behold. It covered an entire wall and reached all the way up to the ceiling. There was a ladder on the side that looked like it could slide across, like a book ladder. Within the cabinet laid dozens upon dozens of board games and other games alike were piled atop of each other, like books in an old crooked bookshop, all slanted and uneven in the most perfect of ways. There must’ve been thousands of games here. Jameson caught me staring.

“Ever played chess?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I don’t live under a rock you know,” I deadpanned.

He cracked a smile, “good.”

He jumped on the ladder and swiftly pulled out one of the several chessboards from the shelf and placed it down on the little coffee table. I followed him there and we both sat down. He then began to set it up and I was quick to help out the pieces in place.

“How good are you?” he asked.

“Why? You scared?” I teased, attempting to psych him out before the game even started.

“Only curious,” he said, cool as a cucumber.

“I can’t say,” I shrugged, “how can I judge my own ability fairly, I’m biased.”

“I suppose,” he replied, “but you would know if you’re alright at it.”

“I’ve won before,” I said. Actually I’d won quite a lot before, many many times. I wasn’t exactly lying, just being vague to work in my favour.

The board is set up, “what colour?”

“You choose,” I told him.

He shifted the board so the black chess pieces are on his side. Secretly my preference was the white anyway. I did a quick analysis of the board and sketch out a rough game plan in my head. I didn’t spend to long thinking, this game could go anyway and I didn’t want to be thrown off, but knowing what you sort of want to do was a start. Definitely the first few moves anyway.

“You start,” he urged.

“Such a gentleman,” I joked.

“I can’t help it,” Jameson winked in response.

I picked up a pawn between my middle finger a thumb, surprised at how smooth the finish was. This was an expensive chess set. I went with my classic start move of two spaces forwards into the centre. He grinned and mirrored the move on his turn.

“Copycat,” I teased.

“I would apologise but you still haven’t forgiven me from earlier,” he shrugged in reply.

“And I probably never will,” I grinned.

“Is this the beginning of some Shakespearean vendetta?” he scoffed, with a playful undertone.

“It might be, we’ll have to see,” I shrugged, “I haven’t decided whether it’s a comedy or tragedy yet.”

“Pick comedy, I don’t want to die at the end,” he said.

“We’re all going to die at the end,” I told him.

He replied, “not what I meant.”

“I know,” I smiled.

“You’re getting in my head,” he observed, realising my tactic.

“Am I?” I asked, batting my eyelashes.

“Yes you’re distracting me from the game,” he said sharply.

“Oh I hadn’t even realised!” I exclaim, doe eyed and innocent.

He narrowed his eyes at me, “your move.”

“Right,” I nodded.

We didn’t have much conversation after that. Actually the only conversation consisted of ‘your turn’ or ‘thanks’. Other than that only the sound of chess pieces being slid about the board could be heard as well as the dull silence that seemed like the loudest sound of them all.

Jameson had a lot of my pieces, the ones I didn’t need in my opinion. I let him have them, I want him to think I don’t know how to defend my pieces.

go on… my mind smiles, please. underestimate me.

I was deceptive and wanted him to underestimate me so I could surprise him, catch him off guard and steal the game from right under his annoyingly perfect nose. But Jameson Hawthorne wasn’t a big of a fool as I thought him to be. The few times I’d been forced to pull out critical moves, he noted them. He began to realise my talent for the game about half way through. He too was a talented player. His moves were swift but calculated, he was going to be a hard opponent to beat.

Move after move. Minute after minute. It was getting intense. Every move was critical, every second in between play was agonising. I found myself constantly self-consciously chewing on my bottom lip, captivated in my concentrated state.

He made his move and suddenly I realised what I can do. I could take a risk and bargain on what his next move was to trick him, but the tactic would only work if he moved the piece I needed him to move, otherwise it was checkmate for me. I sat there, weighing up my options. There was a chance he’d work it out and beat me, but there was also a chance he wouldn’t and I’d beat him. My eyes darted from left to right and back again until I impulsively took the chance. Praying my efforts had paid off, I watch his painstakingly slow next move. He shifted his knight diagonally by two. I wanted to stand up and scream in joy. I had him trapped. Brilliant. My calculated risk had actually worked. I kept a poker face as I realised he’d not yet noticed that I was a venus flytrap and he had crawled blindly towards me.

“Checkmate,” I smiled, leaning back.

His eyes were wide with surprise as his eyebrows shot up to his forehead. The reaction was so real, he didn’t have time to hide it. His jaw wanted to hang down but he was stopping it, I could see the clenched muscles.

“What?” I asked “didn’t plan on being beaten?”

“I was going easy on you,” he gritted through his teeth.

I grinned widely. So losing was a sore spot for Me Hawthorne. Interesting.

“That would explain why you look so shocked that I won,” I said with a sweet victorious smile.

“Fine, rematch but this time we play Hawthorne chess,” he replied, as if it were a deadly game.

“Hawthorne chess?” I raised my eyebrows.

He only smirked in reply.

***

He explained the rules. It was a lot like regular chess but there were six boards to play over and a few added rules that confused me. It wasn’t long before Jameson had me cornered.

“Checkmate,” he grinned, nicking my king.

“I was going easy on you,” I teased, mocking his earlier comment.

“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned, looking very unamused.

“Is your ego mended now you have a win?” I asked.

“Not quite,” he replied.

“Shame,” I pouted.

“Another match?” he suggested.

I shook my head then rubbed my temples, “I can feel a headache coming on. It’s probably from my lack of sleep.”

“Do you want me to walk you to bed?” he offered.

I shook my head again, “I’m not tired. My head just hurts.”

“I know something that might help,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“Fancy taking a trip the kitchen?”

“This is feeling very serial killer-y again.”

“I only snap into serial killer-y mode every third Wednesday,” he joked.

“Well now I know I’m safe!” I grinned back at him

***

We walked to the kitchen together and I noted it was a completely different route to the one I’d taken with Xander’s instructions this morning with Avery.

Once we got there Jameson leaned against the counter and asked me, “do you like hot chocolate?”

I nodded.

“Or would you prefer a coffee?”

His eyes were pinned to my pyjama set as he said it. I self-consciously looked down and blush a deep shade of scarlet, remembering the deign, as he snickered.

“Very witty,” I rolled my eyes sarcastically, “hot chocolate is fine.”

He fumbled around for a saucepan in the endless row of cupboards. I didn’t know how he knew which one to search in, they were all identical. He put it onto the hob and added some milk.

“Our cook goes home after serving dinner so I’ve gotten pretty good at midnight concoctions,” he explained.

“The way you say that makes me a little nervous there,” I told him.

“Maybe you should be,” he flashed a smile.

He put the hon on to heat up the milk and grabbed the instant hot chocolate powder, whipped cream, mini marshmallows and sprinkles.

“Are you five years old?” I laughed.

“Mentally,” he nodded, “is that an issue?”

“Not at all,” I said , “I’m with you there.”

“Nice to know I have a fellow person who had the metal capacity of five year old too,” he beamed, “our conversations will be incredible.”

“We’re having a conversation right now,” I stuck my tongue out, childishly.

“I’m describing the ones in the future,” he rolled his eyes, before returning my tongue gesture by poking out his own.

I smiled to myself as I watched him silently. Even at this time at night - or was it morning by now - he looked good. I wished I could see him like this every night and not feel like I was stealing glances at him.

“So what about you?” Jameson asked suddenly.

“What about me?” I chuckled.

“Well I don’t know much about you,” he clarified.

“You know my name,” I shrugged, searching for more information about myself, “I’m seventeen, Avery is my best friend, my dad’s dead, I like hot chocolate but I also like coffee, I find the rain relaxing, I used to play chess a lot, I like to read novels, I don’t like sleeping but I do all at the same time… now what about you?”

“What about me?” he tilted his head to the side, copying what is aid moments ago

“I gave you my information now you give me yours.”

“Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, I’m eighteen,” he began, “my best friends are my brothers, I don’t know my dad at all, my grandfather liked to give me games, I like hot chocolate and coffee, I prefer the snow to the rain, I have played chess since I could talk, I like to read too and I love sleeping but I don’t do enough of it.”

He’s countered all off my points and mirrored them with his own. It was interesting to compare us. We were similar but so different. I was about to reply but he cut me off.

“Woah!”

“What?” I asked.

“The milk!” He yelled, worry outlining his features.

I spun around to see the saucepan emitting in a thick blanket of steam.

“Why is it smoking? Can milk even smoke?” he shouted.

“It’s steam!” I rolled my eyes.

“Can milk even steam then?” he quipped.

“It’s a boiling liquid of course it can steam!” I exclaimed, for someone so smart, I did wonder how he was acting so stupidly.

“What do I do?” he panicked, the stress evident.

“Take it off the heat!” I cried out. I’d thought that was logical but no. Apparently it was not.

“Oh shit, yeah,” he said, almost laughing

He took the pan off of the heat and the steam began to die down. We made eye contact and started laughing like mad people, until our lungs couldn’t take it anymore and we had to get our breaths back, our bellies aching. We just seemed to fit, me and him. It was like we were the two missing pieces of a jigsaw that have been lost between the sofa cushions for years and now we’d finally been found and put together to complete the puzzle.

The milk turned out pretty much okay and we prepared the drinks a lot easier than we’d heated them. Jameson added every topping going excessively, which made me shake my head and laugh. When we were both done I took a sip, the warm liquid seeping through my body to the tips of my toes, making me feel a little less cold. It was delicious.

“Verdict boss?”

“S’alright,” I shrugged, “I’m kidding, it’s really lovely actually.”

“I agree,” he nodded, “maybe I should smoke my the milk more often.”

I laughed, “you didn’t smoke the milk, it just got a bit steamy.”

“Steamy,” he wiggled his eyebrows

“You really do have the brain of a five year old,” I sighed inwardly.

“Hey! I thought we already established that and moved on,” he said.

“I felt like we needed the conversation to resurface but we’ll put it to bed,” I sighed, then with a mischievous look on my face added, “for now.”

He grinned at me, taking another swig of his hot chocolate, this time getting whipped cream on his nose. I subtly rubbed my nose, hoping he’d mirror my body language or take the hint. He did. Silence hit us like a bus would hit an animal running across the road in the dead of night. Quickly. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but nor was it comfortable. It just was. The only sound was the occasional sip of our hot chocolates.

After a while, I became aware that he was looking at me, actually it was more like staring. It was an analytical look in his eyes, like I was some sort of science experiment rather than a person.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, trying not to squirm as he held his gaze.

“You’re a lot like Avery you know,” he replied thoughtfully.

The comment caught me off guard and I couldn’t work out why. It wasn’t exactly an insult but it hit me like one. Why was Avery on his mind? And why was she on his mind whilst he was looking at me?

“Our brains work in similar ways,” I hummed, “I think that’s why we’re so close.”

“I noticed that,” he nodded, “but I also noticed you’re quite different at the very same time.”

The same and different? Being cryptic, I’ve decided, is a Hawthorne personality trait.

“How so?” I said.

“There’s something about you that is…” he paused to find the right word, “bolder.”

Bold? Really? That was one of last words I would have described myself with.

“You’ve only known me for a day,” I scoffed, “and you haven’t exactly known Avery for that long either.”

“I know,” he replied, “but you’ll find I’m very observant.”

It was only then I noticed his smile. It was the same smile Nash had on his face when he looked a Libby. And I hated to admit it but he look beautiful. His eyes illuminated, sparkling, bright. He looked genuinely happy. It made my heart melt a little, I wanted to see that smile every day. There was only major problem. I didn’t know if he was smiling at the thought of me or the thought of Avery. He could have easily be thinking about either of us and I didn’t want to get the wrong idea.

“You think Avery’s some sort of riddle,” I stated, trying not to let the bitterness seep through my tone.

“And you don’t like that?” he observed, an eyebrow raised.

“Any person who values another as just another game doesn’t get my greatest sympathies, no,” I told him blatantly.

“And what if she is?” he challenged, defensive.

“Is that all she is to you? Just a game?” I asked, getting angrier by the second, “what happens when the game ends Hawthorne, ask yourself that.”

“Then the game ends,” he shrugged, nonchalant as ever, “there’s not much more to say.”

“So she becomes nothing if not a tool for your own wants and needs?” I asked, stating it as bluntly as a pencil that barely writes.

“I didn’t say that,” Jameson insisted, a mixture of feelings betraying the usual mask he hid behind.

“You’re implying it,” I hissed, my eyes overcast, darkened.

He didn’t deny it and that gave me the only answer I needed.

“Now I don’t know you very well, but from what I have to go off of, I didn’t pin you as someone who was selfish,” I told him, raw passion in my voice, “a little bit cocky and far too brave, sure, but not selfish,” I snapped, my tone sharper, “but you’re acting like it and it’s not fair.”

He didn’t reply. Instead he morphed into some sort of stone statue, unmoving, unemotional, unwavering. I felt like a mother scolding her reluctant child.

“And did you even consider how hard this has been for her?” I questioned him, “coming here, to this labyrinth of a house, her life now dictated by a will, forever changed. She’ll never be able to walk the streets again like a normal person without paparazzi bombarding her. She’s just about adjusting to living here, one of your brothers seems like he wants to kill her, you treat her as if she’s a game and she’s being bombarded by the media, I mean the poor girl doesn’t even know why she’s here. She didn’t ask for this and I don’t want her to have to put up with your ‘I’m a Hawthorne so I’m going to use you because I’m entitled’ shit.”

Again, I got no response. For someone so witty and poetic with his words it was odd that now he chose to be silent. He stood still and said nothing. I wanted to shake him until he made a sound but instead I chose to be diplomatic, I chose to carry on.

“You can’t think of her like that, it’s not fair. Not for her or for yourself,” I said, “if you go by your whole life thinking everyone and everything is a game you’re going to lose people, fast.”

“You sound experienced,” he finally said, not replying to a word of my rant just picking out who he thought I was.

“Yeah well maybe I am,” I laughed bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I didn’t realise what it might feel like from her perspective of things. I’m used to being in my grandfather’s world, a world full of games and tricks and puzzles.”

“People aren’t puzzles,” I snapped.

“I disagree with you there,” he said, “people shouldn’t be treated like puzzles but every person is a puzzle.”

“Am I a puzzle to you Jameson?” I challenged, taking a step towards him.

“You’re one of the most intriguing ones yet,” he whispered, moving closer to me.

“Funny, I think I could say the same about you,” I murmured.

My face was inches from his, close enough to see his beauty up close. It was even more breathtaking. He looked down at me, his eyes so tentative, so gentle. We moved closer into each other, like a magnetic force was reeling us in, we had no control. It felt natural, it felt right. Our lips were about to brush…

He cleared his throat and pulled away quickly. My face grew very flushed as my eyes darted to the nearest corner of the room I could focus on.

“Still not tired?” he asks after a few beats of silence.

“Not in the slightest,” I replied, our eyes connecting once again. The soft rolling fields of hypnotic emeralds once again speeding up my heart rate.

“Good because neither am I,” he smirked, “say, have you ever played strip bowling?”

Now this could get interesting.

a/n: again, I’m really sorry for how long this took me to write and I realise it’s not my most amazing work, so sorry 😔😔 I really wanted to portray a strong friendship with Avery as well as interest in Jameson but idk if that was achieved. anyways hope this was okay, thanks for reading <3

TIG masterlist

#jameson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne x reader #jameson x reader #jameson #i love jameson hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #the inheritance games #tig #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #tig fics #tig fic #the hawthorne legacy #love to write #writing #the grandest game #tgg #jennifer lynn barnes

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guav · 2 years

Text

ᥫ᭡ for haitani rindou,

HIGHWAY SYNDROME

⚠︎ this is so self-indulgent and a vent in disguise; sad & heavy themes, demotivation, self-deprecating jokes; r/meirl, this is just comfort and sap. heavily unedited lol.

rindou swears god picks favorites.

an endless barrage of rain accompanied him through the entire ride to your place, a treacherous journey mostly completed out of sheer spite at the shitty weather. and maybe the slightest of concerns.

now, at your very own home, the eye of night greets him from her spot in the cloudless sky. not a hint of storm, but constellations and even fucking jupiter.

"you made it," you skid out your door in pajamas not meant for the outside. among your disaster of a get-up he can spot a shirt he grew out of years ago. faded, worn out.

rindou revs the engine. maybe he would pick favorites too.

that is, until you lock the door and fling your keys, never to be seen again under the scrutiny of dusk.

any previous infatuation is overridden by complete confusion, "the hell?"

"take me somewhere far."

"what does that even-" rindou stops himself mid sentence. "do i look like a taxi?"

your eyes are lost, clouded with the weight of nothingness. "you act like one—came as soon as i texted you."

driving around the precinct with no set destination is but a common occurrence between you two. a duo of youthful spirits taking the streets by sheer negligence of anyone else in the world.

just yourself and rindou haitani.

the smudged makeup bleeding across your face and eyes says little about high-spirits and more about despondency, though.

"fuck's wrong with you?" somehow it spoke more concern than insult through tone.

"you don't ask questions, you drive."

"you're not even on the bike, smartass."

one blink, the dark streets no longer captivates you enough to keep staring. a second blink and you're now facing rindou, soaked to the bone and missing his frames.

drowned out complaints barely reaching your ears say a thing or two about vexation. his shivering shoulders tell a tale of annoyance. rindou's downturned eyes are a dead giveaway of violet concern.

"seriously, do i need to call someone to come screw your head open?" he's about done with his words going through one ear and leaving right the other.

in a third blink his face meets your palms in a gentle cup. a home made of freezing fingertip walls, weak flooring of grip, a shaking born from unstable foundation.

"you're one of the prettiest things i own," one of your hands slide down his face to the pocket where rindou keeps his glasses dry against less than favorable weather. "i think i like you."

his breathing came to a momentary halt. with skipped heartbeats it's a surprise rindou's facade remains untouched. just get on the bike"

never does his stare stray from your face, never do you meet his eyes. careful not to stain the glass or poke his sides, you slide the frames into place.

"so you admit to being something i own?"

he allows the engine to wake again, making the vehicle slide forward in the slightest and nearly making you kiss the concrete hello. "keep fuckin' playing, just you see."

the motor roars for a great number of infractions. reckless driving, endless exits ignored as the highway extends before you.

it's one of the few times you're sat in front, caged by his arms.

("i can't trust you not to fly away if you ride back right now")

you don't care though, the wind parts at your fingers and that's all that matters. care not for the obvious obstruction you cause the driver, an arm extends to grip at nothing past the bike.

(it took an nth number of complaints before you acknowledged his concerns: "who cares if you can't see shit when i do this? don't you trust me?"

back then rindou accelerated after your accusations, breaching the speed limit by an obscene amount. "not in the slightest.")

the breeze is fierce. if you tried less, could you fly away too? you hum, rindou just does his job of driving in silence.

maybe this is what they meant by being infinite. nothing has ever felt so timeless.

mundane, unique.

a juxtaposition of solitude in the presence of each other.

"kill the engine."

rindou nearly swerves you both to your deaths.

"i'm not gonna ask."

ruler of roppongi, terrified at the prospect of delving into the turmoil that's become of your thoughts.

"then i won't answer, sounds fair."

another set of five minutes is thrown away in pure silence, the rest of the precinct sane enough not to drive at such hours of night.

eternity unshattered.

until it wasn't. "there's gotta be somethin' wrong for you to drag me out like this without talking my ear off."

silence.

rindou tries again, "you're not even wearing shoes."

the pavement is so unkind to your soles. you've decided to ignore the pricking of stray rocks.

"being in silence s'fine with me, just tell me you're actually okay."

chatter, irritation. "i wanna go for another drive."

not bothering to meet his eyes, you take pained steps to ride the bike again. ready to take off wherever else— earthly desires no longer influential in your decision making. merely an urge to be everywhere and nowhere.

rindou blocks your path, bracing you from falling at the sudden collision with his body. "you can't be fucking serious right now."

"i am, let's go."

"i'm not taking you anywhere else," there's an invisible flag which warns of a high tide. a possibility of confrontation and risk of shark infested riptides.

rindou haitani faces them all with just a slight ounce of uneasiness. "not until you tell me what this is all about."

silence, the knot of anguish is bound to slip if you were to open your mouth again.

rindou's fingers come to grip your chin. you didn't know they were capable of such gentleness. "c'mon pretty, let me in your head."

a sniffle warns of the high hazard waters bound to wash over.

opening your arms to embrace his figure would take too much energy you simply don't have. it's stiff just leaning against his chest, but it'll have to do.

"how… how do you manage?"

there's a pause from the man, an unspoken request for elaboration.

"every single day i swear you're seconds away from taking the world by storm with a lift of your finger, fuck, you make it look easy."

a knot claws past your trachea, pushing to be reborn as wails from your heart. "i can barely get out of bed each day, or even muster enough willpower to keep this—this shit cluster of a routine."

you're sure to be victim to early hair loss by the vicious grip your fingers trap your hair in; a single inconvenience away from ripping it all out. "i can't keep up—i'm so tired, rin."

hesitant, careful arms wrap around your back slowly. his gaze lost somewhere far from your figure—pleading for the night's own missionaries, ursa minor, cepheus; any and all, to just give you a breather for once.

"i know, i know."

anyone else getting tears all over his clothes would easily be found in a suitcase within the next few business days. not another single soul has such privilege to stain rindou's jacket and live to tell the tale.

rindou squeezes your shaking shoulders. he can forgive it this one time.

"why would i ever want to have the world if i already have you?" a rhetoric whisper breaks the silence. "that just sounds redundant. "

you can't help but cry harder.

"c'mon," rindou acts quick as your legs grow weak, wrapping them around his waist seconds before they gave out.

were you not concerned for not drowning in sorrow you'd complain about the gesture. a buried fear of inconveniencing rindou having to wait in queue for the fifty-six other problems also awaiting their turn.

("rindou quit it!" you'd squeal, fighting against his arms as they lift you from the ground. "'m too heavy, stop it!"

rindou would always scoff at your stupid claims, as he'd so kindly put it.

"i can bench press three of you—maybe you should come witness that.")

it's good you don't get to voice any complaints. rindou wouldn't know how to put into words the burden you carry weighs more than any physical manifestation of life.

his neck feels like the home you've sought this whole time. even with puffy eyes and a congested nose, it feels right.

blonde and blue strands of hair cling to your wet cheeks. everything might just be okay.

("can we go home now?"

"you threw your keys away, stupid."

"fuck," you whine with elongated vocals, fist pounding on his chest, "why'd you let me do that?")

⠀⠀⠀⠀navi.⠀＆⠀m.list.⠀＆⠀send me an ask!

#hbd stink #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader #tokyo rev x reader #rindou haitani #rindou #tokyo revengers #ROGUEL1KE #this might be a cry for help who knows!

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nyamadermont · 7 months

Text

Peak of Denial

#FFF241 Hour of Denial

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Avatar: Legend of Korra

730 words

Tenzin spiraled up the primary tower of the temple, bending the air under his feet like stairs. Eventually, he reached his spot, a tiny platform he had built at the peak of the roof. He sighed, billowed his robes, and settled into a lotus position.

From here, he could look out over the ocean from a spot where he could not be bothered by anyone. Only he had the skills safely to mount so high.

This was his place of last resort, the place where he would allow himself one solitary hour.

One hour to continue pretending. To deny to himself the reality of what had just happened.

The day Momo had died, he had been so distraught that he found himself up here by accident. It had taken an hour for his father to find him and return him to the ground.

The day he had found Bumi’s goodbye note, he had thrown himself out through the window of the dormitory and used his hands to pull himself up the side of the tower. He could still feel the tears on his father’s cheeks from where they had cried for what felt like an hour.

The day Kya had hugged him before running away, tears in her eyes, to leap onto her boat and sail away, he had spent an hour gathering wood and tools. He had climbed the steps inside and used a rope to secure himself while he prepared the little platform.

The day Lin had looked at him blankly when he mentioned children, he had pulled his glider out and floated to the roof on the mounting breezes. The cold rain of autumn drove him inside after only an hour.

The day his mother had told him his father would not recover, he fled from her, weeping silently until he returned to his spot. The hour he spent screaming at the sky ruined his voice for days.

The day his father gave him a blessing and conveyed the future of the Air Nation into his hands, he shed his clothes as he ran up the stairs until he leapt out, barely catching the parapet with his fingertips, flinging himself onto his perch. After an hour, he gave up on meditation, and gave himself over to exhaustion.

The day Su had hurt Lin and Toph had betrayed her, Lin had shut him out of her rage and grief. He had returned to the Island on Oogi’s back and pulled alongside his platform, sending Oogi to return alone. He settled in, outwardly calm and serene. For an hour, he told the winds of his own anger and hurt.

The day Pema had looked at him, and said, matter of factly, that she would be marrying him one day, he had marched quite deliberately up the staircase. Once settled, he brought his left fist (Lin) against his right (Pema), and spent an hour trying to decide where his loyalties lay.

The day Lin had accused him of cheating on her, he had retreated in confusion and no small measure of fear at her lack of control. The dust that whirled around her provided him steps that carried him out of her reach and into the hour’s peace above.

“I think if you consider what I’ve said, you’ll find you agree with me. She isn’t right for you. I am.”

Pema’s words struck him like one of Lin’s boulders.

Lin, with whom he had learned to walk and talk. Who had been his constant companion for their first ten years. With whom he had played, and studied, and trained, and sparred. Who had held him through those long nights after his father’s death. Who had stood by him when Kya had come to collect their mother. The mother who had set her face to the sea and left him.

He had whirled away from the woman who confused him. Who drew him. With whom he felt more settled and calm than he had felt since he was a child.

Who had done more to help him teach the acolytes’ children in her year on the Island than Lin had in a lifetime.

With a slow, purging breath, he let the hour go.

He could no longer deny it to himself.

He knew what he had to do.

He stood, took a step, and opened the third chapter of his life.

#flash fiction friday #FFF241 #Hour of Denial #atlok #legend of korra #tenzin #pema #lin beifong #nyama's short fics

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yutahoes · 1 year

Text

Polarity

Chapter Fourteen

Masterlist

characters: mafia boss! Yuta Nakamoto x innocent! florist! reader

summary: While running away, you seemed to be moving closer to the man you were avoiding. Are you even heading to the right direction?

chapter word count: 2.1k words

chapter genre: heavy angst, a small fluffy scene

chapter warning: crying, death, dead body, death threat, mention of sexual assault, breaking up, abandoned warehouse, kidnapping, being tied up, pocket knife, gun, gunshot, character deathS

a/n: Sorry for the late update. You can tell that I am debating a lot on whether to continue on this route or not. I am ready to get hate over this but please understand that this is for fiction purposes only. Sorry for the triggers and the sudden plot twist. There could be two chapters left for this AU and the ending will highly depend on the readers.

taglist: @sourirensoleillee @kyuprincess @nuoyipeach @anonjyxd @a-bts-world @a-place-filled-with-random @smolbeanieee @yumilovesavocado @imnotsureokay @dhaly-g @spicyryujin @doodoodove @blueeyedlove-blog1 @kosmoreads @joepomonerof @calipsou @yutadae @juungvely @hangyeomcult @cherrphoenix @itsyntt @winterwritesblog @yutazen27 @ytzvivi @brightestmark @yujaesstuff @johnbanana @fullsunncit @loverofnct @127lvr4 @scuzmunkie

You have never cried too hard. The last time you cried that much was when your father left you. But now, you’re crying so much in front of your best friend's bloody, dead body. She looked as pretty as ever, only paler.

The police ruled it out as sexual assault gone wrong. That someone entered her hotel room, sexually assaulted her then murdered her. It was a reason that you knew her parents and friends would believe, that anyone would believe.

But it wasn’t the reason you knew.

Kim Doyoung, the policeman who handed you the letter, knew it as well.

Someone purposely killed her. And that someone is after you as well.

Her funeral was full of white flowers, her parents weeping on the side about how they lost their lovely daughter. Her friends, even guys who had short flings with her, came to grief. Aeri was there, trying to hide her tears. Yuta was next to you, caressing your back as you kept crying for the friend-like sister you lost.

Instead of just grieving like the others, you felt guilty. This was all because of you.

Sophie died because of you.

You didn’t tell anyone of the letter, it was like a secret with Kim Doyoung. Even Yuta doesn’t know. And you don’t want to let him know.

“Shouldn’t you distance yourself from your boyfriend now that you know that your life is in trouble?” The policeman asked, “And Miss Y/N, I know you know who did this.”

You sighed hard. “I don’t have proof. I can’t just accuse her without any concrete evidence, can I?”

“Then you’ll just wait until that person comes to hurt you?”

Maybe you’ll just do that.

You don’t have any strength to do anything at all. Even staying at the apartment you once shared with Sophie feels so heavy. Yuta suggested the penthouse which sounds safer than the other options you have. Unlike when you started dating him, Yuta was always by your side. He would leave in the morning to work on some things but would always come back in the evening before you went to sleep, hugging you in his arms while you cry.

You were cooking some breakfast when you felt someone hug you from behind, hands wrapped around your waist as his breathing can be felt against your neck. “Why are you dressed up? Are you going somewhere?” Yuta asked and you nodded.

“Doyoung has some leads in Sophie’s case,” You answered in a monotone, putting some pepper in the soup you made. “He wanted me to check it.”

He wrapped you tightly in a hug, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. “You’re meeting that policeman more often lately.” If possible, you can hear the pout in his voice. “You’re making me jealous.”

You giggled at that. How adorable. You turned to see his face. “Why would you even get jealous over that?” You asked while holding both his cheeks. “It’s nothing Yuta. We’re just working together to find out who did this to Sophie.”

“I can help you if you would just let me.” A smile escaped your lips, shaking your head. You don’t want him getting involved. You don’t want him to have the same hunches as you. You don’t want Yuta to know that you’re in danger and this was all your fault. He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. “I’m relieved,” You were curious about that statement. “This is the first time in a week that I saw you smile.”

You gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry if I worry you.”

But Yuta shook his head, smiling widely at you. “After you meet with Policeman Kim, let’s go have lunch together. I’ll reserve a fancy restaurant for just the two of us.”

You nodded. Actually looking forward to that moment.

Doyoung did supply very useful information. Because of the semen found on Sophie's underwear, they found out who sexually assaulted her. A bellboy from the hotel. He did claim that they only had sex and he left after. The other staff of the hotel claimed that someone came into her room and left soon after. There isn't CCTV or a legit witness to convict someone of the crime.

He kept on pressing you for what you know but you are not someone to talk to unless there are facts. You read the letter repeatedly, the blood almost drying but you knew the word by heart.

'You're next, Y/N.'

The person who killed your bestfriend is a person who wants you dead. And there is only one person who wants that. You don't want to accuse her but she's the only plausible suspect there is. Isn't it already enough that she drugged Yuta?

Is this still because you were with Yuta? That she is starting to hurt the people you care for. That she is out there to kill you?

Then Sophie might be right. This relationship with Yuta wouldn’t work. You’re only hurting the people you care about. It only resulted in a life lost because of the two of you. And who knows what other things Kyoko can do?

Maybe it’s time to end it once and for all.

You were feeling excited about the promised dinner the whole day but as time passed by, you were slowly dreading it. Your heart felt heavy inside your chest. You were scared of how to tell Yuta what you think. You were scared of how he would react.

Love should make you happy, not worried like this.

You desperately waited for his message or call, even wishing that it wouldn’t come. That even for just a day, you will save yourself from this heartache bound to happen.

The phone Yuta gave you vibrated, a message you sighed hard to open. It only said a specific address, no restaurant name or time. Just an address. Is this some kind of surprise? Why is he suddenly doing this?

Breaking up will be harder now.

The cab took you to an eerie abandoned warehouse. He even checked if the address you stated is correct or if he should call the police for you but you shook your head. Yuta’s car was outside. Maybe it’s a facade and the surprise is inside. Every step inside feels heavy. How can you say goodbye when he did all these things for you?

But when you opened the large doors, there was only darkness that scared you. The door closed automatically behind you as the light flickered revealing a silhouette of someone in the middle of the room. Wrists were tied with a rope, hanging from a high ceiling. Immediately, you ran to carry her body and tried to remove the bound on her wrist with one hand. “Y/N,” she called, face looking so pale, and you hushed Momo up. What is she doing here? “Uncle…” Uncle? Mark? He’s also here?

You frantically looked around the empty room just as you heard a small wheezing sound. Smoke filled the room. But a specific smell made you black out. Oleander.

The first time you encountered the flower was at a convention. Sophie told you about it and how the looks of the flower can deceive you. They bloom in white, pink, yellow, or red charming flowers but when ingested, they can be poisonous. Even the smoke burned from its wood is toxic. The same scent lingers in your nose.

You feel like flying but something is dragging you down. Specifically, your feet and hands. When you opened your eyes, you weren’t surprised to see the person you have been despising for days. The first impression of her classy looks didn’t leave her face even if she is now smirking in front of you. A crazy woman.

You squirmed to get out of the ropes on your wrists and ankle but she only laughed maniacally. “Where is Momo? And Mark?” She took a knife from her pocket, the same pocket knife you threw at her before. “Why are you hurting them?”

The sharp edge of the knife came in contact with your cheek which created a stinging pain. She dragged it south, creating a cut from your cheek to your jaw. “What does Yuta see in you?” You hissed at the pain, and blood started dripping to your clothes. “You’re average. Why would he choose someone like you?”

“Because unlike you, I chose him first.”

Clearly, she didn’t like the answer and pushed the knife on the side of your neck. “You, of all people, don't have the right to be with Yuta.” Does she really hate you this much? But she's the one who left Yuta first? Why is she acting like a crazy girlfriend? “Y/N Y/L/N,” she started, “Your father used to work with Mr. Long, isn’t he? A driver?” How did she know that?

A wide smile appeared on her face, “Mr. Long, a well-known mafia boss from Shanghai.” No, he’s not. You know the man. He owns a small construction business. “A mafia boss well known as the Nakamoto group’s rival.” No, he can't be. Your father isn’t related to the mafia. “Do you even know why your mother died, Y/N?” Why does she know these things? What does she know that you don’t?

“Yuta’s dad is brutal, isn’t he?” You shook your head. You don’t know him. You don’t want to hear anymore. “He killed your mom. And Mr. Nakamoto was the reason why your dad was shot.” That cannot be true. The knife lunged at your neck, creating a cut. But it isn’t as painful as you thought. You’re ready to accept death like this. “The reason why your life is hell is because of Yuta.”

No. It’s not.

A gunshot is heard before Kyoko’s mouth spilled bright red blood. A smile appeared on her lips as she fell to the ground. Just like in your nightmares. Yuta was by the doorway, breathing hard with a gun at hand. He killed Kyoko. He defied the first rule of the Nakamoto group.

He ran to your side, removing the ropes on your wrists and ankles before removing his shirt and placing it on your bleeding neck. “I already told Jaehyun to come here…”

“Why?” Yuta looked confused. “Why did you kill her? You disobeyed the first rule…”

The mafia boss looked pissed at the question. “Do you think I would care about that stupid rule?” He shouted. “She killed Sophie. She took Momo.” How did Yuta know about that? “The last straw is her hurting you.”

“Momo,” you whispered, suddenly reminded of the little girl you saw earlier. “She said Mark is here.”

He looked startled and confused, “But Mark was the one who brought me here.”

A figure can be seen by the door.

A young man was carrying the young girl in his arms, a gun pointing at her head. “And Mark is the one who planned all of these.” You're used to seeing him in his boyish state, timid. But this is a different Mark. The same Mark who didn't show mercy in killing the person who abused you in Kyoko’s boutique. “Mark who will slowly kill the people you care about, hyung.”

“Don’t hurt Momo.” The older guy pleaded. “She’s your niece.”

“The reason why my sister is dead,” Mark stated. “The only person I have left in my family after what your father did.” Mark then stared at you, “After what both your fathers did.” All the facts you have been hearing today hurt your head and it’s pounding.

You know Yuta is talking to Mark, maybe persuading him not to do something drastic. Momo is crying, and fright can be seen on her face.

When Mark pushed the small mechanism of the revolver he was holding and pushed the firearm on the younger girl’s temple, you knew you had to do something.

You acted on impulse and discreetly took Yuta’s gun from the floor.

You’ve never held a gun before, only that time in the amusement park and you can feel warmth holding your arm and a voice whispering, “Fire, Y/N. Kill him.”

One shot.

Second shot.

Third shot.

Before you felt the firearm yanked from our hand. You didn’t realize the tears were falling in your eyes if not for Yuta hushing you up while wrapping you in his arms.

Chapter Fifteen

#yuta #yuta nakamoto #nakamoto yuta #yuta angst #yuta nakamoto angst #nakamoto yuta angst #mafia yuta

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thatgirlonstage · 2 years

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Hey have a fucked up TAZ thought for the day. Gently pushing aside Merle and Gundran somehow literally being blood related, the people that the seven birds like grew up with and knew before the IPRE obviously wouldn’t… exist on Faerun. Or even if we take Griffin’s hand-wavey explanation of Gundran and accept that there are some of the same people in this particular planar system, these versions of those people wouldn’t have the faintest goddamn clue who the birds are. From what we’ve seen of the voidfish, it will to an extent overwrite its own inconsistencies, but it doesn’t have the ability to implant totally false memories in disconnected people. Lucretia couldn’t have done that.

And I know we kind of generally agree that all of our birds are orphaned and generally solitary people, which is borne up by none of them (LUCKILY FOR GRIFFIN LMAO) ever randomly being like hey let me roll to see if my dear childhood friend Claire lives in Goldcliff now or something or otherwise referencing connections from their childhood, but like— they couldn’t possibly have known no one at all who was still alive and in touch with them when they blasted off to space.

So like. What if, after the destruction of Raven’s Roost, Magnus actually tried to do the healthy thing first. He’s devastated, he’s not thinking straight, but he’s not quite at fling himself off a cliff in despair levels, so he does what you’re supposed to do: he reaches out to a friend. No one from Raven’s Roost, obviously, but an older friend, someone he met on fantasy study abroad and had maintained a pen pal relationship with for years. He hasn’t written to them recently, of course, bc he’s been so busy with the rebellion, and Julia—he sent them an invitation to his wedding but they must not have been able to come. Or it got lost in the fantasy mail! Shit happens—but he feels sure they wouldn’t turn him away, certainly not in this state. They’d at least give him somewhere to crash for a week, let him sleep through some of the worst of the grief.

He turns up on their doorstep and they’re—not there. According to the gnome couple that live there, they’ve never been there. This has been the gnome couple’s house for 120 years. No one of the name Magnus is giving has lived here since before he was born.

He asks around town. Goes to the school he studied at and asks for records. Literally hires a divination wizard to try a scry because he’s fucking desperate at this point.

This person, this person Magnus got sloppy drunk with, who got into a bar fight back to back with him, who helped him struggle through Elvish grammar and cantrip lessons, who wrote to him about the gorgeous half-orc boy they wanted to marry, who sent him chocolate every Candlenights, this person doesn’t. Fucking. Exist. Has never existed, as far as Magnus or anyone else can tell.

Spooked, and grieving no less, and seriously afraid for his friend’s well being, Magnus thinks okay. Okay. He needs help. He needs perspective. He tries someone else, someone maybe a little more distant but still reliable. An old school coach, maybe. Someone who gave him his first sparring sessions when he was training to be a fighter.

That man did exist, but he’s been dead for eight years according to people in town. Which isn’t fucking possible, because Magnus saw him for lunch four years ago.

Okay. Okay. Okay. Someone else. Who else can he talk to.

He goes to a town where he once spent a summer interning for a dog trainer. He learned so much there. It would be good to be around dogs again.

The woman he trained with has no memory of him at all. She doesn’t recognize him, she doesn’t recognize his name, she doesn’t believe him when he says he knows her. She doesn’t recognize half the dogs he talks about. She chases him off her property, accusing him of trying to steal from her, although he hadn’t asked for anything.

The next one was dead too.

The next one didn’t know him either.

The next one didn’t exist.

Magnus’s family, friends, and acquaintances are a string of “dead” “don’t remember him” or “apparently, never fucking real” until he says fine, fucking fine. He’s not the type to spiral into despair. He’ll do some good before he goes out.

But he is going to go out.

Because if no one still alive even knows who he is, what is he living for?

#taz #taz: balance #magnus burnsides

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jinsbedroom · 2 years

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jinkook au where jungkook’s parents set him up with their friend’s son because they’re worried he’s going to live alone forever if he doesn’t find someone now.

he doesn’t expect to see the one that got away, seokjin, sitting next to his parents when he arrives to their house.

—

they were once perfect for each other. they fit like the last two pieces to a puzzle coming together to complete the bigger picture.

they dated briefly in college, lasting only a few months. jungkook didn’t know how good he had it until seokjin left him. jungkook used to think that they were end game and all the time, he still wonders what could have been.

it was jungkook’s fault they broke up. he was young, he wanted to be wild and free. he didn’t understand the responsibilities of being in a relationship. he let seokjin take care of him, let seokjin love him. he kept taking and taking, but only gave a fraction of it in return.

he didn’t realize he was hurting seokjin until it had all been laid out for him. “i like you a lot- i love you, even. i think we’re great together when you’re with me in the moment. but jungkook, you can’t expect me to stay when you keep pushing me down your list of priorities. figure your shit out, but not at my expense.” he had said.

at the time, jungkook just froze. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, he just let seokjin leave. for some reason, he thought seokjin would always wait for him and be next to him no matter what he did. he thought seokjin would come back for him.

it turns out he was mistaken. jungkook hasn’t dated anyone since then. he remained single, with a fling here and there, but never anything serious.

the last time he’d seen seokjin was at his college graduation. he didn’t approach seokjin at the time, just watched from afar as seokjin accepted his diploma. he never thought he’d see seokjin again. he never thought he’d get another chance like this.

while jungkook has changed a lot, in terms of appearance, with his entire arm inked up and ears filled with piercings, seokjin remained the same, like he hadn’t aged. he looks so good.

jungkook holds his breath as he walks up to the dining table where seokjin is sitting with his parents. “seokjin-hyung.” jungkook says, letting out the breath he’s been holding.

seokjin looks up at him from where he sits, clearly surprised to see him. jungkook hoped that seokjin agreed to meet knowing it was him, but it seems they both went into this blind, per their parents’ request.

“you two know each other?” jungkook’s mom questions.

“we… went to college together. i graduated 2 years before him.” seokjin smiles. “you knew i graduated? how do you know i didn’t drop out or something?” jungkook questions, looking shocked.

“i, uh… i went to your graduation ‘cause i saw you at mine. so…”

jungkook feels a rush of emotions after learning this information. seokjin came to his graduation, which was 2 years after the broke up? just last year? and he didn’t say anything? why would he do that?

did seokjin miss him too? were his feelings reciprocated? they both felt too awkward to talk in front of jungkook’s parents, so they didn’t say much. but jungkook was staring, and it was obvious.

after their meal, seokjin quickly excuses himself to leave. “i’m afraid i have to go. the food was delicious. thank you for having me.” he gets up and walks slowly towards the door, like he used to when he wanted jungkook to follow.

“i also actually have to go home. thanks for dinner!” jungkook says, quickly getting up, walking around the table to his mom to give her a kiss, before following after seokjin.

as soon as jungkook closes the door, seokjin grabs him by the wrist, tugging him towards his car and opens the passenger seat door for him. jungkook willingly gets into the car. it only takes a second for seokjin to walk around to the driver’s seat and get into the car.

“did you know?” seokjin accuses him.

“no hyung! i didn’t know. if i knew i would have-”

“you would have what? declined?” seokjin sounds hurt.

“no! no i would never refuse you! i’d take any chance to be with you again!” jungkook blurts out in his defense.

it takes seokjin to a moment to gather his thoughts. “it’s been 3 years, jungkook.”

“it has.”

“you look… so different.”

jungkook looks down at his tattoo covered hand. “yeah… i do. and you look perfect hyung, like you always have.” he looks back up at seokjin.

“so why’re we being set up? you’re single?”

“i’ve been single for years. you ruined relationships for me hyung.” jungkook admits.

seokjin looks guilty, panicked. “i’m so sorry i left you like that. you didn’t stop me so i didn’t know you cared. i didn’t mean to ruin-”

“no hyung! no. it was me. my fault. i should have…” jungkook takes a deep breath. he never thought he’d get to tell seokjin he was sorry.

he continues, “i should have stopped you. i should have chased after you. i should have been better to you. i regret it all the time. i’m sorry i didn’t give you everything you deserved back then. i was young and selfish. i only thought of myself. you leaving made me realize that you made everything so much easier for me and i took you for granted. i struggled with everything after you left. and after our relationship, i kept comparing people to you. there was no way i could date people if i’m still thinking of you… i think of us all the time. i regret letting you go…” jungkook pauses, and shakes his head, “anyways, i’m so sorry hyung.”

“you had my number, why didn’t you call me?”

“i didn’t know you wanted me to. i didn’t think you would even give me another chance so i didn’t try. i’m sorry hyung.” jungkook reaches out to hold seokjin’s hand.

“i’m sorry too, for leaving you without letting you say anything.” they look at each other for a moment, not saying much, but coming to an understanding. maybe all the time apart was necessary.

there was a reason they were meeting now right? fate or something like that? what were the chances of their parents setting them up with each other?

seokjin speaks first. “i don’t know how you feel about being in relationships anymore since… you say it’s ruined for you, but do you want to try again? with me?”

“relationships with other people are ruined for me. i would do anything to try again with you.”

“how about you just say ‘yes’?” seokjin chuckles.

jungkook smiles wide. “yes hyung. i would love to try again with you.”

#jinkook #jinkookau #kookjin #kookjinau #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook

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filthy-reckless-rp · 9 months

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♛ Spotted on the Upper East Side…

Name: Thalia Baizen Pronouns: She/Her Age: 40 years old Hometown: Upper East Side, NY Occupation: Editor in Chief of 'Kouture' Magazine Social Status: Insider Faceclaim: Kate Siegel

Who Is Thalia?

"The tales of your incompetence do not interest me."

If it isn't the one, the only, Thalia Baizen. I can feel the room shudder at the very sound of your name. You never cared to be loved but you ensured that you would be feared and respected. You clawed, schemed and worked your way to the very top. You'd stab a thousand backs, step on a thousand necks, if it meant getting what you want. Ruthless, unforgiving and incredibly talented, you were always destined for great things. The only person that you truly trust and believe in, is yourself. You're an innovator, a creative force, and you know how to get the best out of everything and everyone. Here's to you. XOXO ---Gossip Girl

A Little Extra

If you looked up 'independent woman' in the dictionary, you'd find a picture of Tahlia Baizen. Everything she has, she has built herself from the ground up (although the Baizen name may have helped unjam a few doors here and there). Her family may have overlooked her, but she kept a keen eye on them, watching and learning from their victories and failures, making mental note of what to do and not to do. And then she put it all into practice and worked her ass off. 'Kouture' magazine is her baby. And she's incredibly proud of it and all it stands for. But the idea that she should loosen the reins? Or let someone else take over? God forbid. No one can do what she does, no one. And she will run herself into the ground before she asks for help or admits defeat. That stubbornness and drive might explain why her relationships always end in fights and tears and accusations that she has a fear of commitment. Which, she absolutely dos not thank you, she's committed to her work isn't she? It's not her problem people can't accept that he job comes first.

What Does Gossip Girl Have On Them?

Likely the firing of some poor intern over a minor issue. Although the fact that Thalia is a notoriously difficult boss is far from a secret. Thalia finds Gossip Girl to be a laughable amateur at most, definitely not a credible threat or source. The 'real' press already rips her to shreds, a gossip blog is nothing.

Connections

Carter, Elizabeth and Lucas Baizen - the nephews and niece. Thalia is not particularly warm and fuzzy with anyone but does take an interest in their lives. After all, they can't help who their father is.

Vivian Mendez - darling Vivian... If Thalia believed in soulmates, Viv would be Thalia's. They were married once but it didn't work out. Now, they still work together. The 'what if' isn't lost on Thalia.

Zara Cooper - a messy fling that may or may not still be ongoing. Zara is very smart and very beautiful, two things that Thalia Baizen often won't resist.

Beatrix Royce - darling Beatrix... they had a whirlwind romance. Bea was always too good for Thalia, too kind and wonderful. It never would have worked out. They were married once too but it's over now.

#c: thalia baizen #*#insider #ues #baizen #carter #elizabeth #lucas #vivian #zara #beatrix #t

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ddejavvu · 2 years

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Touchy Eddie with f reader who is not used to being touched/hugged and gradually begins to discover that she likes Eddie's touch and cuddling with him

Ofc Eddie is so patient with her

thank you for your request :) a note: eddie picks reader up in this one!

You have no warning. Not even the thud of Eddie's sneakers on the dirt behind you, because damn him, he's sneaky. All you feel are arms around your waist, strong and firm, then your feet are off the ground and you're hauled back into someone's chest.

"Boo," Eddie's voice is startling against your ear, low and dramatically raspy as he hoists you off the ground. Your indignant squeal only seems to fuel his amusement, and he twirls you around once before letting you plop back onto the foliage-covered walkway to his trailer.

"I was gettin' something from the van," He explains his absence in the trailer you'd just knocked on, "'Left my jacket in there after last night's show."

"Oh," You supply lamely, standing stiff where he'd dropped you, "Okay."

He's already halfway to his trailer door when you speak, but he stills and turns to you with a confused smile. One of his brows is quirked upwards, his teeth glinting in the pale sunlight that streams through the clouds above.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" You insist, your cheeks burning terribly. You're sure that he picks up on the bouncing of your leg against the ground below you, "I'm just tired."

"Well come on," He urges, stepping back towards you to grab your hand and tug you to his door, "We can nap inside."

You follow him silently, your hand stiff in his grasp. He pulls you through the door without inquiring, though, so you think you're safe.

You're not.

The moment the door closes behind you, he pounces.

"So," He flings his jacket onto the couch inside, yanking you closer to him by your intertwined hands and setting his free hand on your waist, "What's really wrong?"

He's inches from your face, his eyes flitting back and forth between your own, his teeth grating his bottom lip.

"Nothing," Your voice wobbles, a fire searing your cheeks, "Nothing's wrong."

"Liar." He accuses, though it's not angrily so. He drags you to the couch, plopping down right onto his discarded jacket and throwing an arm over the back, "Talk to me."

You have a hard time sitting without brushing your legs with his that are spread over the entire couch. You swear he's making it hard for you on purpose, but as you tuck yourself into the tiny corner of the couch that isn't occupied, his smile drops.

"You can touch me, you know." He jokes confusedly, then after one glance at your face, "Oh, shit."

"I don't-"

"That's it, isn't it?" He pulls his legs from where they're on either side of you, tucking them up underneath his butt as he kneels facing you, "You don't like to be touched."

"That's not it," You look away from him bashfully, "It's not- not, like, a dislike. I just need to get used to it."

"Oh." He nods once, expression uncertain, "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"No!" You're quick to shake your head, "You don't. Sometimes it's just more than I'm used to, though."

"Like when I tackled you outside?" Eddie finally figures out the reason behind your uneasiness, a sheepish tone to his voice.

"Yeah." You let out a weak laugh, "I'm sorry, Eddie."

"For what, sweetheart?"

He asks the question so genuinely, where you expected judgement. You know Eddie's touchy, moreso than anyone you've ever met, and it feels like you're letting him down to admit that you can't handle it yet.

"For- for being weird like this."

"Weird," He scoffs, throwing his head back in mock-surprise, "You're not weird. I'm a lot to handle."

"I- I wanna handle you, though." You insist, "Just take it slow, maybe?"

"Oh yeah?" He quirks an amused brow up, a smirk flitting over his face, "What parts of me do you wanna handle, babe?"

"Eddie!" You groan, burying your face in your hands while he snickers.

"Just teasing," He reaches out, a comforting hand on your knee, "Is this okay?"

You glance down at the gentle contact, feeling the warmth sponging through you at his touch. It pleasant, seeping through your bones and setting butterflies free in your tummy.

"Yeah," You breathe incredulously, his smile growing at the shine in your eyes, "Yeah, Eddie, that's perfect."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fanfiction

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messers-moony · 3 years

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King and Queen | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader

Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.

Inspiration: Click

A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.

James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born.

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him.

Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?

His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it.

Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive.

Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?

Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n.

In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”

She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”

“But I’m excited!”

“I know that.”

They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”

“Hey, Potter pair.”

Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”

“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied.

James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?”

“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered.

“Pills?”

“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”

“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”

“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”

The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”

Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”

“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”

The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”

The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better.

Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable.

Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving.

By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness.

Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.

And who better to tell than James Potter himself?

Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James.

“Mate, I need your help.”

“Running from Filch?”

“No. Something- Something worse.”

“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.

Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”

“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned.

It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”

James sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Y/n.”

“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”

“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked.

“Literally anything else.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”

James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”

“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“

“Just?”

“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”

Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”

“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”

“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”

“They are quite brilliant.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”

“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”

Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.”

“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”

“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”

He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”

James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”

By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless.

When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”

Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister.

Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”

“Are you okay, James?”

His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”

Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter.

Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”

“It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”

A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”

James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”

“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Till the end.”

After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room.

“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”

“Staying with my brother.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Siri.”

Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort.

He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser.

When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.

Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.

She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.

James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.

It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.

“James!”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”

“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.

Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”

“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”

“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“

James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”

“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.

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kissimirrit · 2 years

Note

I’m in love with your killudust fanarts but I’m a bit confused on where that ship stands in your ship list. What do you think about it? How long have you liked it?

One time, I think I must’ve seen you claiming that you started liking it more than killugon cuz you hated how twitter was being a major ass when it came to other types of ships that paired up Killua and Gon with other people.

So I’m curious: if you now like killudust more than killugon, are you gonna start making more killudust art? I’m just wondering about that cuz I thought about it so many times. It’s also okay if you’re not going to either. It’s whatever yk?

(hi! rereading my answer i noticed i come across as crass; so sorry if my tone reads as like i'm mad or upset or angry. talking about getting harassed just makes me feel exhausted).

i like killudust because it's funny and random and it makes me laugh.

ultimately when it comes to ships i like, if it can make me laugh, it shoots up into my top 3 favorites. my otps in any fandoms, the majority of the time, are crackships because i found them funny. my first crackship was gaz x GIR from invader zim when i was 8 or 9 (invader zim was also my first online fandom at around this time btw). i have ALWAYS loved crackships. i have ALWAYS loved silly pairings that made me laugh, whether they had canon basing or not (but them having no canon backing and being very random helped the funny-factor for me)

so as for where killudust stands on my ship list, it genuinely is my OTP for HxH (and in my top 3 for overall ships across all fandoms i am in). i used to REALLY love killugon because of all the silly scenarios one could make with them, because these two characters have such funny interactions!! i started being vocal about killua x gold dust girl in early-mid 2020, so that's a little over two years.

(note: i've talked about killudust on other servers i'm no longer in before these screenshots)

so i've considered killudust my #1 hxh ship for a little over two years, actually.

but unfortunately, romantic killugon has gotten pretty soured for me? i still love platonic/queerplatonic killugon don't get me wrong! but the way the fandom on twitter acts about ships that paired gon and killua with other people (and ESPECIALLY killua with female characters). like, being accused of heinous things and getting a bout of harassment SOLELY for being vocal about a crackship i liked and making silly drawings for it just absolutely severed any love i had for killugon in response. being called a homophobic pedophile (she's??? a card game character??? and it appears like she's within his age range if not a little bit older??? and even then i portray her as a fictional character he "waifus" and not an actual character. like???) and being called a proshipper (this word has been divorced of all meaning it literally means nothing anymore if ppl can just fling it at anyone who ships anything against the status-quo) for a non-problematic crackship just really killed any desire i had to make anymore content for killugon.

unfortunately hxh is no longer my hyperfixation, and hyperfixation is usually a big factor in fandom content i create. but sometimes i'll find a drive to create hxh content again (especially if my friends still into hxh manage to wrangle that inspiration and motivation out of me) and USUALLY i've noticed that motivation comes in the form of killudust. so the handful of times i've dipped my toes back into hxh after my hyperfixation ended was for killudust, so most likely if i were to make hxh content in the future again— it would probably be killudust. i'm a spiteful person by nature, so i'm definately not letting anything STOP me from making things i WANT to make. sometimes it even fuels me to make it even more when it's fresher.

but i hope this answers your questions! i appreciate that you've been paying attention to me, sometimes i just think i scream into a void where no one sees ahaha <3

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

Clementia

Anniversary Request Special

Description: You’d always had a special place in your heart for Lee Minho even though he gives you countless reasons to hate him. How long will your patience last?

Warning: alcohol, sexual assault

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x Minho

“Y/N—”

“Go away, Minho.”

“Y/N, look at me.”

“I said no!”

“Well I said I’m sorry.”

You snap around to face him. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Lee Minho. You screwed up. You. Screwed. Up. I gave you one request, and you couldn’t even do that.”

“I had my reasons!” he protests.

“Yeah? Well let’s hear them.”

He emits a few noises but can't come up with anything. His face flushes red, but not as red as yours.

“There’s no excuse for breaking someone’s heart ever. Remember that.” You turn on your heels and begin walking away until he says something even more repulsive.

“Why do you care so much? She’s not even your real sister!” he calls after you.

You pause, unable to comprehend how such words could ever enter your ears. You then slowly walk back to him as he stiffens with every step you take.

“Not my real sister?” Your voice is soft, but it is effective.

“I mean—”

“You’re saying the girls at Epsilon Phi aren’t sisters?” Your voice begins to rise. “We’re more sisters than you and I were ever friends, Lee Minho! We love each other more than biological families do, but of course you wouldn’t know how that feels, would you? All you have in your chest is a cold, hard piece of coal!”

You turn away and break off into a run this time. Tears stream down your face from being insulted and betrayed by someone you held with high esteem.

You like Lee Minho. Of course, you’d never admit that. To the world, he is just some kid of your mom’s friend who annoyed you to no end, but through the arguments and time spent trying to prove each other wrong, your feelings grew bit by bit. When he had a relationship with your very own Little, you held in your feelings and wished them both the best. After all, you love both of them, and their happiness together was good enough for you.

That is, until Minho broke things off as nothing but a fling.

Minho has always been a huge flirt, but he’d promised to take her seriously this time. You made him swear it, and you emphasized how much your Little meant to you. Now, because you’re his family friend, your Little won’t even speak to you. Minho had ruined your and her relationship, and evidently yours and his too.

He didn’t used to be like this, all manipulative and amorous. You remember he used to follow you at the heel, caring about nothing more than sticking gum in your hair. It wasn’t until senior year of high school did he start hanging out with random girls and trying daredevilish things. You missed the old Minho, but you thought you’d accept him for all his changes since you did, after all, like him.

Until this moment, that is.

What he did was too much. What he said was too much. You know he is becoming toxic, and if he is going to continue down this path, even your love isn’t going to bring him back to your heart.

Minho watches your waning back then slams his fist against a nearby tree with a curse. You didn’t give him enough time to explain, not that he would have been able to in front of you.

You’d forgive him though, right? You have to. When he messed up before this, Minho could be sure you would. But now, he isn’t so certain. He has never seen you so angry and disappointed before, and he did that to you. Him. Minho lets out another string of curses and trudges back to his room.

He tries making it up to you the very next morning. He shows up to your 8 AM class with a cup of coffee and slides it onto your desk before sitting down himself.

You don’t even look at him. You just take the cup and slam it down in front of him, causing its contents to spill and burn your fingers. He quickly takes your hand in his and begins wiping it with his sleeve, but you recoil your arm and take out your own napkin.

The next place he tries is at your neighboring frat party. He knows you would be there, so he wears his tightest black jeans and a loose button-up. This trick has worked with other girls, so he hopes it would on you.

He takes the dance floor with his powerful dance moves and charisma. He can see you deliberately turned away from him and chatting with someone else, so he dances towards you. The cheering circle that has formed around him moves as well, engulfing you into the crowd.

You finally turn to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. Minho takes this chance to shoot you a wink which draws the crowd’s attention to you. They cheer and push you towards him despite your protests.

Minho takes your arm and leads you in the dance. You used to like dancing with him; your and his flow matches perfectly, and the two of you could revive a dying party just by dancing together. Today though, you just aren’t having it.

Minho puts a hand on your shoulder and scoops his hips low earning a cheer from the crowd. You can hear them calling your name, anticipating your response. You look down at Minho and immediately recognize his choice of clothing.

I wonder who’s going to have her heart broken tomorrow, you think with a dry laugh. Minho flinches, recognizing that sound. You take his falter as a chance to fling his arm off of you before walking away.

A chorus of oohs fills the room, and the crowd splits like the Red Sea for you.

You hear your name from his lips again. “Y/N!” It is more strained now than it was last night. Desperate. Defeated.

You gave him some thought after hearing the sincerity in his tone, but you are glad you did not turn around that night when you see him in class with some other girl on his lap. Whatever. He’s dead to you now, so why should you care what he’s doing?

Minho watches as you walk farther and farther from him. He pushes the girl off and continues to stare with narrowed eyes at you as you greet your new seat neighbors.

This isn’t how he predicted you would react. Truthfully, he kind of knew this attempt wouldn’t work. For one, it hadn’t worked once since he first tried it in high school. He thought hanging out with other girls would make him more attractive, more desirable by competition. At least, that’s what some then-college kids told him. Once he started, he just found himself unable to stop. It was a self-feeding cycle, really. Holding onto other girls and charming them numbs the void in his chest, but you ignore him whenever he acts like this which only further widens the gap.

What is he to do though? This is the only life he knows, and so, it is the life he leads. Not all love stories can end happily.

And his sure doesn’t seem like it is going to.

Sirens wail in the background. With the amount of girls he’s fooled around with, he kind of had it coming. Minho stares at his wrists, not daring to think, but one thought keeps recurring in his mind: you. He is going to disappoint you yet again. You already hate him, and now you are going to see him handcuffed too.

The cold wind makes him shiver when you, his emergency contact, open the door and step into the station. Your eyes immediately find him, and you make your way over.

“Y/—”

“Are you hurt?” you ask plainly.

Despite your icy tone, those three simple words fill him with a warmth he hasn’t known for a long time.

“I’m okay.” His hands reach forward, wanting to grab yours and keep you with him, but you’ve already walked away to announce your arrival to an officer.

“Miss L/Y Y/N?” a young official greets a little too enthusiastically. She looks familiar, you note.

“Yes, I am she.”

The officer looks pleased by your annoyed attitude towards the defendant. “Mister Lee is here tonight because of an accusation by Miss Choi of assault,” she informs you coyly.

You look at him. “Minho,” you said with a chilled voice. “Is it true?”

“No! Y/N, I wouldn’t—”

“It’s okay. I believe you.”

“Excuse me?” the officer sputters.

“I believe him,” you repeat. “He’s been going out with more people than I have fingers, but he never laid a finger on them.”

“But Y/N, that doesn’t mean he can’t start now,” the officer protests. “You’re his contact, but you hate him now. Surely, he’s changed”

“First of all, it’s Miss L/N to you, Officer” —you read her name tag and pieces begin to fall together from her eagerness to convict Minho to the inkling you felt the moment you saw her— “Yoo. And secondly, is it not against the law for you to be working on a case where your cousin’s the accuser?”

“How did you—!”

“Nothing escapes us Epsilon Phi sisters, even news from other sororities. Besides, Minho never plays with the same girl twice. As expected, this report is filed for an incident two months ago. You, Officer Yoo, knew I was his contact and waited for us to get into yet another fight before having your cousin put in the accusation, didn’t you?”

She scoffs in your face. “That’s a bold accusation from yourself towards law enforcement.”

“Where is the accuser right now? Shouldn’t she be here for interrogation as well?”

“Well she—” the officer looks increasingly flustered. “She needs rest after having to relive the memories of what happened. We’ll call her in tomorrow. Anyway, Mr. Lee Minho, I can hear your testimony now in room #3.”

Minho stands obediently.

“Wait. I request someone else interrogate him,” you object.

“We’re busy right now,” Officer Yoo huffs. “We can’t just let you choose who does the job.”

You cross your arms. “Sure. Interrogate him and have the entire case be nulled after I file a conflict of interest.”

Officer Yoo grits her teeth but returns to her station to call for another officer.

In the meantime, you turn to Minho. “Don’t answer anything you don’t want to, especially if they start leading you on with questions. It’s in your rights to remain silent, alright?”

Minho nods numbly at your words, still confused as to why you are so nice to him. Before he can figure it out though, an older man appears from the back and takes him to an interrogation room.

“Mr. Lee Minho?”

“Yes.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Chief Jeon. I’m just going to ask you a few questions today; is that alright?”

“Yes.”

The chief nods and pulls out some papers. “Would you mind describing what happened with Miss Choi?”

“Well I was with—” he gestures towards the papers with his accuser’s name on it— “and we were hitting it off. She bought me a couple of drinks and at some point leaned in to kiss me. I realized something at that point, and I stopped her. She got angry, saying how she spent all that cash on alcohol for me, and threatened to accuse me of assault if I didn’t do what she said, but I knew I couldn’t do it.”

“Because of what you realized?” the chief repeats.

“... Yes.”

“And what was it you realized?”

“Do I have to say it?”

“According to the law, no, but if it can help you with your case, you might want to.”

Minho fidgets with his cuffs. “They can’t hear me from outside, right?”

“No. They most certainly cannot.”

And so, Minho tells him.

Minho turns around while the metal bars clang shut behind him. The chief thinks he has a pretty good chance, but due to the gravity of the accusation, they still decided to keep Minho in holding to give the accuser more time to make her case.

You stare at him from the other side, arms crossed. Minho takes the fact that you’re still here at two in the morning as a good sign for him.

“Thanks for being here,” he tries to start a conversation.

“I didn’t really have a choice.” So cold.

“I’ll change my emergency contact.”

“Please do.”

He winces. “Look… Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for insulting your sisterhood and for hurting your Little. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

He looks at you with those doe-like eyes of his. For once, you don’t feel anything while looking back at them.

“That’s not why I’m mad anymore. In fact, I’m not even mad,” you tell him. “My Little told me what really happened. She told me that she was actually the one who dumped you after you adamantly refused to kiss her. I asked some other girls you’ve seen and they all said the same thing. That’s why I was so confident with the officer earlier. I guess I owe you an apology for getting angry when you weren’t at fault.”

“Then”—he holds out a hand sheepishly— “truce?”

You look at it but keep your arms crossed. “Taking a step back from you has made me see things I wasn’t able to before, Minho, and that’s made me realize how much you’ve changed. You were my friend, my rival— someone who never failed to get on my nerves but also someone I couldn’t go without. But now” —you drop your arms and shake your head— “I can’t even recognize you anymore.”

You take a step back to leave. You’ve done this many times before, like when he stuck a plastic spider down your shirt or when he called you stupid in front of your crush in fifth grade, but something about this time feels different. Something about this time tells him you aren’t turning back around once you left.

A sudden despair grips Minho and he runs into the bars. “Wait!”

You pause, offering him one last second.

“Your Little,” he gasps, “did she tell you why I wouldn’t kiss her?”

You nod. “The others I asked did too. They said you were thinking about some other girl while you were with them.”

“Not ‘some other’ girl. One other girl.”

“I know.” You begin to walk again.

“Then why are you leaving?” He reaches a hand out, trying to grab any part of you. “Stay with me. Please, Y/N, stay.”

You don’t pause a second time. Out of desperation, he cries out, “Y/N, I love you!”

That makes you stop midstep. He holds his breath as you put one foot back then the other next to it to face him. You are so beautiful when you look at him. He melts under your gaze as you focus on him and only him. He’ll cherish you this time when you give him another chance. He’ll quit this playboy lifestyle. He won’t take advantage of your patience anymore. He’ll give you all that his heart has to offer. He’ll make sure you’re the only one in his eyes. He’ll love you. He loves you.

“Minho.” You relax your shoulders and straighten your back. You tilt your head just slightly forward and erase the edge off your tone. “I loved you.”

#lee minho #lee know #stray kids #stray kids fic #minho fic #lee know fic #stray kids imagine #lee know imagine #minho imagine #stray kids angst #lee know angst #skz #enemies to lovers #fem reader #2nd anniversary special #20210815

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Proving A Point

Pairing: Toji x reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Degradation, Murder, Violence, Gore, Borderline Necro??? But not really??? Listen...there is a dead body and things are done in very very close proximity to that dead body so take that as you will.

Summary: You make the mistake of accusing Toji of being jealous of sorcerers and he proves that he has nothing to be envious of.

Steady...Steady…

You wince as your stomach grumbles in complaint, hunger eating away at your patience and concentration. But you steel your nerves, stubbornly shaking your head and willing away the pangs in your abdomen as you focus on your surroundings, eyeing the cameras and employees, waiting for the right moment…

Skittish eyes. Rustling. Quick movements.

You tamper the pep in your step, hiding the glee in your face as you casually stroll outside of the sliding doors, leaving the grocery store and its shoppers in your wake, baggy sweatshirt much less roomy as you walk away. Your fingers itch to immediately grab the banana tucked inside your bra, but you know better.

Patience is a virtue. Out of sight, out of mind. And you wait, fighting every urge to run far away and dig into your stolen loot, sighing in giddy relief when you finally turn the corner, blocks away from the scene of the crime.

It’s almost animalistic how you practically rip off your hoodie, letting your precious cargo of fruits, bread, and chips fall to the ground. You plop on the ground, hand wrapping around the banana still tucked in the fabric around your chest, but you freeze at the sound of amused chuckling.

Your fight and flight instincts war inside of you, teeth baring, body back on its feet as you gauge your intruder. But your heart drops in your stomach when you take in the large muscular figure, the feral scarred grin leering at you from down the alley.

Years alone and left to fend for yourself have made your survival instincts strong and you know just from a brief glance that you don’t stand a chance against the man slowly meandering towards you. You’re no stranger to using your body for protection, money, just another night under a warm roof and you can only surmise that’s what he wants, that he’s just another predator in search of hapless prey. So you brace yourself, willing your body to relax as it trembles, letting it go limp as he draws near.

But you open your eyes in shock, looking warily on as he plucks the banana still nestled in your bra and peels it open, holding the opened end to your lips.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meal.”

You gape, eyes flickering between the yellow fruit and the amused face of the man in front of you. Back and forth, back and forth.

“If you’re not going to eat it, maybe I’ll have it. I’m getting kind of hungry anyway-”

“What is this? Some kind of weird foreplay?!”

Hunger makes your tongue sharper than you intend as you angrily chomp on the soft fruit before he can pull it away from you, your hands ripping the rest of the banana from his grasp as you quickly shove the rest in your mouth, uncaring of how ridiculous you look. So what if you look like an oversized furious chipmunk, cheeks bulging as you rapidly chew, scowl set in place? You’d be damned if you let someone else take your hard-earned food, even if he does look capable of choking you with his bare hands, and your eyes linger a little too long on the ways his shoulders and biceps bulge in his tight black shirt.

But his next words have you snapping back to attention, nervousness curling inside of you.

“I saw your little stunt back there. Not bad. How long have you been stealing to provide for yourself?”

You immediately deny his words, feigning ignorance, beads of cold sweat trailing down the side of your face the longer he just impassively stares at you as you continue stuttering.

Had you misjudged him? Was he some kind of undercover cop?

“What if I told you I could keep you off the streets, find jobs that would pay enough money to put a roof over your head, keep your stomach full?”

Your head snaps up, hope fluttering inside of you, your voice coming out more desperate and shaky than you wish.

“You won’t turn me in?”

The man snorts, bending down to pick up the rest of your meager belongings and food, not even looking back to see if you’re following as he begins to walk away, arms laden with your possessions, silently commanding you to follow him. And like a duckling imprinting on its parent, you instinctively trail after him without a single question about where you’re going, what jobs he’s talking about, or who he is. But as you exit the narrow alleyway and get ready to merge with the bustling street, he pauses, turning around to gaze at you as he answers one of those questions.

“I’m Toji. No last name. Just Toji.”

Neither of you dwell too much on what exactly brought the two of you together, what had Toji curiously watching as you skillfully and efficiently stole your next few meals and deciding to tuck you under his wing, what had you eagerly following after the man like a lost puppy. The harsh conditions and day-to-day survival of your lives don’t give either of you the luxury of wallowing in loneliness or the warmth that builds in your chests the more time you spend together.

But on nights after a successful job, bellies full of food and alcohol, bodies lazing on a cushy hotel bed where you splurge and rest for the night, neither of you fight the way your limbs naturally entangle, the way your lips meet in the dark, the way it feels so damn right to be together.

You learn about sorcerers and curses, shuddering when you become aware of an entire world that surrounds you. Toji laughs when he gifts you a pair of glasses that helps you see the evil around you and you scream, jumping in his readily outstretched arms, clinging onto him in fright.

Toji learns that aggressive shows of confrontation and brute force aren’t always the best answer (even if they are the most fun option) and he follows your lead, letting you quietly sneak around, swift hands dexterously picking locks, easily plucking and pocketing stolen goods. It’s your turn to laugh when he pouts at not being able to use his blade, strong arms crossed in front of his chest as he impatiently waits for you to finish your task.

But despite the months you spend together, you never get used to the crimson stains he returns with, eyes always averted and looking anywhere else when he deals a final blow. He knows if you had a choice, you’d always opt out of joining him on these specific types of requests. He knows it’s selfish to force you along, to make excuses as to why he needs you by his side as his sword guts yet another sorcerer. He knows he should feel some shame for the way you dry heave and vomit the contents of your guts at the sight of the countless corpses he forces you to look upon.

Yet all he feels is annoyance laced with guilt and fury at the pity in your eyes, the softness in your gaze as you watch him slay another individual who just happened to be born with cursed energy, the gentleness with which you handle the fallen bodies. Maybe that’s why he keeps on dragging you with him assassination after assassination, gloating about his new moniker “Socerer Killer” in front of you despite your clear discomfort towards the title.

But maybe the unspoken punishment is too soft for you, too subtle. And Toji scowls when you begin to question him and his motives, angrily growling right back at you when you raise your voice as you argue with him about his drive to kill every sorcerer he crosses paths with.

You plead and beg for him to reconsider. Sorcerers are humans after all, just with special abilities.

Toji wonders if you’d still think that if you met anyone else from the Zenin clan and both of you back down, your arms wrapping around him in an attempt to soothe and comfort as you see his mind and eyes glaze over in painful reminiscing.

It’s during one of these sessions that you utter the lines that end up being your downfall.

“Toji, do you think that maybe all your hate towards sorcerers is just jealousy? Are you jealous that you weren’t born with cursed energy like they were? Because if that’s what it is, there’s nothing to be jealous about-”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Harsh language and cursing are all things you’ve come to expect from Toji. But what has you paralyzed with fear and a desperate need to make things right is the pure animosity and seething rage in his voice.

You whimper as a large hand reaches to grip your face, squishing your cheeks painfully, forcing you to lock eyes with fierce emerald orbs.

“I’m not jealous.”

He abruptly lets go of you with that sentence, turning his back on you, slamming the door in his wake. And you know you should be grateful that this is the extent of his lashing out. Yet somehow your heart aches more in his absence and you almost long for more of his heated words, even a spiteful strike as the days drag on without his presence.

It’s embarrassing how much you miss him, how accustomed you’ve grown to him being around. But you can’t help the way you scramble and flail in your rush to greet him as he finally enters your bedroom almost an entire week later. And he snorts when he easily catches you as you stumble and topple into his arms, tightly flinging your arms around him and holding him in silence, nuzzling and inhaling his scent as you bury your head in his chest.

You don’t miss the way a large hand gently rests on your head, the way he lets himself bask in your embrace. But all is not forgiven or forgotten and you warily listen as he barks at you to get ready, telling you he has another job for the both of you, grimacing when a razor sharp grin cuts across his face when he tells you it’ll be a messy one.

If there’s one positive attribute about Toji, it’s that he’s a man of his word. Your stomach churns, nausea swirling inside of you as he uses his bare fists to seemingly break every bone in the target’s body, unnecessarily cruel as he drags out the sorcerer’s death. The victim’s agonized screams fill the air and you clamp your hands over your ears, wishing you were anywhere but here, hesitantly stepping towards the exit, but stopping at Toji’s curt command for you to stay put.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh finally stops and you let out a shaky breath, tentatively lowering your arms as you turn back to face Toji, waiting for his exit plan. But your eyes widen when you see the sorcerer’s chest still rising and falling, still hanging to life by a fraying thread. And realization weighs down on your shoulders like a ton of bricks when Toji beckons you over, pulling your reluctant body until your back is pressed against his chest.

He places the hilt of his sword in your hands before gripping your hips, holding you still as his thumbs languidly rub lazy circles through the fabric of your pants. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, he watches the tremble of your arms as you vigorously shake your head side to side, eyes dizzyingly flitting between the half-dead sorcerer laying at your feet and the sharp point of the weapon your holding.

“Toji, I don’t- I can’t-”

“Kill him or be punished. Pick your poison.”

You know there’ll be hell to pay if you don’t follow through and every ounce of self-preservation screams at you to put your own well-being above the pitiful stranger on the ground. But when you lock eyes and see the fear and pain, see him as just another human like yourself, you know you’ll never be able to forgive yourself if you deal the final blow, know that his death will haunt you, curse you, for the rest of your life.

You’re terrified as you begin to loosen your grip, getting ready to let the object clatter to the ground, knowing full well Toji will be livid. But before you can fully release the sword, strong hands wraps around yours, forcing you to hold the blade once more, and you scream as Toji guides your hands, forcing you to cut through flesh, muscle, skin, and bone, the body parting like butter beneath the overwhelming force. Hot crimson splatters decorate the both of you and all you smell and taste is metallic copper.

All you’re cognizant of is the dimming light in the sorcerer’s eyes, the way your hands are still holding onto the weapon buried in your victim’s guts.

Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

You don’t know anything except the need to flee, to separate yourself as far from the crime scene as possible. And your legs jerk back to life, only to give out on you as you’re forced to the ground, body unable to do much against Toji’s brute strength as he forces you on all fours on top of the still warm corpse, your limbs encasing the figure, eyes unable to look anywhere but straight down on those vacant eyes.

“Take a close look, sweetheart. Still think I’m jealous of a pathetic meat sack like that? Still think I care about having cursed energy? His special little powers didn’t help him much, did they?”

Toji’s laughter rings in your ears as your shaky arms struggle to hold your bodyweight up, trying to create as much distance between your torso and the hardening corpse beneath you, your eyes clenching shut, trying to block out the gruesome scene. You’re so focused on your predicament that you barely register calloused hands pulling down your pants and underwear, leaving your most intimate parts on display.

But Toji’s never been a fan of being ignored, especially by you, and you wail as he suddenly shoves his cock inside of your dry and unprepared hole, the pain and force of his thrust throwing you off balance and fat tears stream down your face as your body falls on the lifeless form beneath you.

Fear, pain, and disgust coil and slither inside of you as you futilely flail and try to lift yourself off the body beneath you, loud sobs escaping past your lips as your face is squished against a much colder visage, your tears and saliva mixing with the congealed blood on the sorcerer’s face. But every time you try to push yourself up, Toji rams into you from behind, and you instinctively tip forward, trying to escape, trying to pull away from him, only to further trap yourself against the corpse.

“God, you’re such a fucking crybaby. He’s dead, get over it. Look. There’s nothing to be so upset about.”

A new wave of salty tears trail down your face as Toji uses one hand to pin you down, forcing your lips to connect with colder, stiffer ones in a mockery of a kiss. He pauses his relentless thrusts to boisterously laugh as you fight against his hold in renewed vigor, fueled by your disbelief and terror.

“Alright, I guess that’s enough punishment for you. Don’t want you to die from shock. Let me make it all better.”

If you thought the ocean of negativity you had been drowning in before was bad, this is worse. So much worse. And a disgust so thick, so potent, so irreversible washes over you, seeping into every part of you, as pleasure begins to flicker and grow deep inside of you. Toji knows every inch of your body inside and out, and it’s pathetic how quickly your pleas for him to stop become lewd moans and wanton sounds as his fingers rub and play with hardening nipples and clit, as he angles his cock at just the perfect degree that has you seeing stars, as his teeth possessively bite down in the junction of your neck.

You don’t want to feel good, not like this, not here, not sprawled on top of a man you had just killed in cold blood. But it’s hard to think of anything else other than the arousal and lust fogging over your morality, over your humanity as Toji turns you into a well-trained mindless slut desperate for him, for pleasure. And he smiles victoriously as you stop resisting, letting your body mold against the corpse beneath you, uncaring of how absolutely sinful and depraved you look as you moan and drool like a bitch in heat, writhing shamelessly against the body underneath you.

He knows the image is going to be seared into his mind for life, fap material for years to come, and his hips stutter, his tempo fluctuating as his balls tighten, his thrusts becoming even more feral and desperate as he chases his end. And when you cum first, convulsing and milking him of all his seed, pushed over the edge by the brutality of his pace, he spills thick white spurts deep inside of you, grunting in satisfaction as he slams balls deep into you one last time.

It’s amusing how you’ve seemingly had a complete change of heart, looking almost at home and at peace as you continue laying on the motionless sorcerer, body twitching and eyes rolled back in your head as you laze in post-coital bliss. His softening and spent cock twitches in interest again as a sticky trail begins to trickle out your used cunt, mixing with the blood of the broken body beneath you. And it takes all his willpower to refrain from having you, tasting you all over again.

You’re still on the clock after all and there’s payment to be collected.

But as he coldly barks at you to get up and tidy yourself up as best as you can, smug satisfaction swells inside of him as he watches you exhaustedly pull your panties and pants back up above your ass, a dazed pleasured look on your face as you quickly make your way to him, tucking yourself closely to his side and leaning into his body heat.

You always were a clingy and needy thing after an orgasm. But he can’t bring himself to mind, sneering as he tosses one last backwards glance at the dead sorcerer you’re leaving behind before finally settling into a self-satisfied smile as he pulls you in closer.

Cursed energy and all...no sorcerer could ever make you feel as good as him.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere toji #toji x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw: yandere #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon

659 notes · View notes

redhead-batgal · 3 years

Note

Hi 😁 Could I request either (31.} “Good morning gorgeous,” “Fuck off I’m trying to sleep.” 8.} “Why do you have to be so cute?” “Why do you have to be so hot?” 27.} “I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.”) Or ( 21.} “If anything happened to you, it would utterly ruin me.” & 1.} “I honestly don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.”) with Dick Grayson?

Type: Two-Shot

Pairing: Fem! and Librarian! Reader x Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Part One: Here

Prompts: ☙1: “I honestly don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.” ☙8: “Why do you have to be so cute?” “Why do you have to be so hot?”☙21:“If anything happened to you, it would utterly ruin me.” ☙27: “I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.” ☙31:“Good morning gorgeous,” “Fuck off I’m trying to sleep.”

Content: Cursing, mentions of abuse, implied sickness, a minor curses, depressive thoughts (the negative Nancy’s may suck y’all but they bring in the fluffiest fluff), flashbacks, little bit of angst, FLUFFY so freaking fluffy, heavily reader x Nightwing, good luck 😂

Word Count ([Mama Mia] Here we go again!): 10,108 words

(P.S. I saw these prompts and thought hmm what could I do and the idea for a part two popped in my head. Hope you guys enjoy it!)

(P.P.S So I’ve recently decided that I’m gonna do OC stuff so like two of my OC’s with stories are going to make an appearance. Let me know what you guys think of them. 😉)

(P.P.P.S I’m putting an author’s note at the end so if ya wanna read it it’ll be there. And don’t worry I won’t count the author’s note in the words count.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The unexpected tends to hit you when you don’t expect it, obviously, however sometimes the unexpected hits you literally at the worst times. Things from your past can come back to punch you in the gut, things you had forgotten about can return and bring a host of memories with them, good or bad.

The unexpected can cause revelations to come to you, for you to realize things you should have thought of, things you should have seen before. It can cause you to realize certain feelings and certain people are more important than you ever thought.

The unexpected can be kind, but it can also be ruthless. It can give you new relationships but it can also cause you to remember things better left forgotten. Things like past relationships and mistakes you wish you never made.

The unexpected is... well unexpected.

It hadn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since Dick Grayson asked you out when literally everything went to shit.

It had all started when you began to receive texts from old friends telling you to lay low. They were very vague and it made your stomach shift due to nervousness. There was a number of reasons why they could have texted you, they could have been joking, they could have been referring to anything really.

The longer you thought about it the worse your stomach swirled. So when you got a call telling you to come to a meeting with a detective right after your shift at the police station you felt like you were going to puke. The more time that passed the worse you felt however right before you left you ran into Mira.

“Hi, Y/N.” She said with a bright smile, “Are you excited for your date later today?”

She wiggled her eyebrows at you and you gave her a nervous smile. She hadn’t meant to, but you were even more nervous now then before. Nodding you let out a sigh trying your hardest to push the nerves swirling in your stomach back.

“Yeah, yeah I am...” You paused for a moment noting how her hair was much shorter than before.

She noticed your look of surprise and grinned in almost a wicked kind of way, her hazel eyes glittering.

“I got my hair cut and now I feel like a woodland pixie!”

You laughed and Mira raised a hand to the end of her hair fiddling with it before shifting slightly as if something was bothering her. And it was then that it occurred to you, you hadn’t asked her how things with Jason were going.

“So,” You began, feeling a mischievous smile working its way onto your face, “how are things going with Jason?”

Mira’s let go of her hair and shrugged a look of almost disinterest on her face. She leaned against the wall before looking over her shoulder and sighing.

“Well for one, after hanging out with him I’m like ninety percent sure we’re just better as friends.”

You nodded in understanding, it was common for that to happen and it pained you to see how many times people had told you or Mira to just go for the relationship just because it would give you experience.

“I get that-” Before you could finish however she continued.

“And there’s this girl...”

Girl, there’s a girl? You couldn’t believe it! Not because Mira didn’t seem like the type but because she didn’t really get out enough to meet people.

“Ooo really? Where did you meet?”

A blush appeared on Mira’s face and she straightened out before the blush darkened and she averted your gaze.

“She’s new to my apartment complex.”

You smiled widely trying not to giggle in excitement. Mira had been rambling to you for months about wanting a relationship even if it was just a fling, she wanted love and was angry at the gods she believed in for not sending any her way.

“Ooo, very cool. I hope things work out better than with Jason.”

Mira’s blush dimmed slightly and she got a frustrated look on her face before she pushed away from the wall and the two of you began to walk again. Tucking her much shorter hair behind her ear she bit her lip before giving you a look.

“I think that it wouldn’t have matter if we were just better as friends or if Rosemary was in the picture-”

You couldn’t help yourself, “Rosemary? Is that her name?”

Mira’s blush returned to her face making it red as she waved a hand at you almost as if to stop you from asking questions about her possible crush. You moved out of the way of her hands and you realized you hadn’t been thinking about your nerves. And the second you thought of them they came crashing back down on you.

“I’ll tell you everything later I promise!” Mira remarks with a sigh, “Anyways, I’m pretty sure Jason has a thing for someone else.”

You froze for a moment blinking a few times in surprise, looking at Mira you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Really? I could have sworn he liked you.”

She shrugs before crossing her arms, tilting her head she gives you a look before smiling slightly.

“I’m a psychology major at Gotham U Y/N. I noticed somethings and I don’t know I’m pretty sure he likes someone else... and in case you were worried it isn’t you.”

You blinked a few times processing her words, Jason like you? Have a thing for you? Of course that couldn’t be true. Why would Mira think that you might think Jason might like you? He was like your brother!

Mira laughed and you realized all your emotions were crossing your face in that moment. Blinking again you furrowed your brow in confusion. Shaking your head you couldn’t quite grasp the idea of Jason liking someone else.

“I just thought he liked you.”

“He likes the parts of me that remind him of this other girl. I mean like... we sorta talked about it, so it’s more as I know he likes someone else.”

You gave her an exasperated look and Mira laughed nervously before taking a step back. She waved her hands smiling somewhat before saying,

“Listen I don’t know who, and he didn’t outright say it, but he might as well have. He said there’s this one girl he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over. Something about them being childhood friends and thinking she was dead.”

Shaking your head you sighed, you hadn’t heard anything about this then again you and Jason both agreed to not talk about your pasts. Even thinking of it now makes you feel sick. Swallowing you pushed away the memories as Mira gave you a concerned look.

“You okay Y/N? You got a little pale just now...”

Mira trailed off and you nodded brushing off her concern. Pulling your phone out of your pocket you noted the time and how you were supposed to be meeting the detective soon. Shoving it back into your pocket you hurried to say goodbye to Mira, you really didn’t want to be late to this meeting.

“I’m fine. I promise, I’ve just got a meeting with some cop soon-”

“Do you think it’s about Daniel?”

You flinched at the sound of his name. Closing your eyes you took in a breath. You could think about him now... well briefly think about him, without feeling scared or panicking. However now that Mira said it, it made a whole lot more sense. All your friends telling you to lay low and the meeting with the detective.

The room seemed to spin a bit and you felt hands on your arms.

“Woah, woah Y/N. It could just be Dick wanting to meet with you about your date, you said he doesn’t have your number right?” Mira remarked, scrambling to get you back to your senses.

You pressed a hand to your head and nodded even though you felt like you were going to puke. Mira began guiding you towards the door with a very concerned look on her face.

“How about I drive you there? I don’t like the idea of you being alone right now.”

You must have nodded because the next thing you knew you were in the passenger seat of Mira’s car as the world seemed to go in slow motion. Things passed by your eyes but for some reason the only thing your brain could focus on was the fact that Daniel was more than likely back.

Your throat felt tight and you tried to breathe but it got harder the longer you tried. Biting your lip, you forced air through your lungs. There was a faint sound in the background almost like a humming as you heard Daniel’s voice yelling at you. Dozens of phrases all at once, insults, accusations, anger in general. You felt your heart beat pick up when suddenly your lip felt warm and a sharp pain went through it.

Blinking back into reality you realized that Mira had been talking to you and that you were pulling up to the station. The car stopped and Mira turned towards you, her eyes going wide automatically.

“Y/n you’re bleeding. Did you bust your lip or something?”

Raising a hand to your face you pressed a finger to your mouth only to pull it away and find red. For a moment you weren’t in the passenger seat of Mira’s car but on the floor of that apartment. With him looming over you. Your breath caught and Mira was shaking you back into reality.

“Y/n? Y/n are you okay?”

You nodded somewhat slowly before opening the door. Looking up you shot Mira a weak smile as worries about all the trouble you were causing her hit you like a train.

“Yeah, sorry I’m fine. Thanks for taking me here... I’ll get a ride back to the library... you should go home.”

“Y/n-” Mira began when you cut her off by climbing out of the car.

“I’ll be okay Mira. I promise.”

Mira sighed and you turned back towards her. She nodded and you closed the door waving goodbye as she drove off. Turning back to the station you let out a sigh and straightened your posture before walking in.

Inside a woman at a desk directed you to a Detective Brooklyn’s desk. Something about that name tickled the back of your mind but you pushed it back and walked towards where she directed before stopping in front of a woman’s desk. She looked to be a year or two younger than you and tired. She had a phone in her hands and you could faintly hear a little girl’s voice on the other end.

“No Flori you cannot give Ace frosting. I don’t care if he really wants it... What do you mean Ria’s climbing on top of the cabinets? Flori I swear if you don’t- ... Tim, if you don’t get Alfred in there soon I’m going to- Hi Steph, yes it is so good to talk to you but can you please.... ugh. Duke hi... oh Alfred is handling everything? That’s fantastic. Could you please tell him thank you for me? Awesome!” Her dark red-brown hair was pulled into a tight bun and she looked up to you, her deep brown eyes lined with exhaustion.

However upon seeing you her eyes flickered for a moment before she held up a finger. Motioning for you to sit down. She nodded her mouth slightly open as if she wanted to say something to the other person on the line.

“Yeah, yeah I know Ria. Frosting tastes really good. I hav- Hello Damian. I would love to come over and play with Titus, Ace, Ria, Flori and you but I’m at work right now- sorry your right I didn’t mean play, I meant I was going to help you guys exercise Titus and Ace... no we are not keeping William Snakespeare Ria, I don’t care that you named him- I have to go okay? I will handle this later. Yes I mean later, I have work to do- Hi. Yeah I’m still at the station. No, I’m meeting with her right now. Yes please. Thank you so much Babs. You are a lifesaver! Bye.”

Placing the phone on the receiver she sighed before looking at you. She smiled slightly almost weakly before she pulled a file off of her desk and opened it.

“Hello Miss L/N. I’m Edelynne Brooklyn. Most people around here and in general call me Eddie.”

You blinked twice as an image of the past hit you hard.

You and your friend Elysa were sitting on the chairs at the station. You didn’t want to be there, your stomach churred at the thought, but Elysa had insisted saying how your relationship with Daniel had gotten too far. That he had taken it too far. You couldn’t fully see out of the black eye, but you knew it was better than not seeing at all and really it was your fault, if you had just made the food he wanted it never would have happened.

“Hi, I’m Officer Brooklyn.”

You looked up and saw a girl no more than nineteen with hair just below her ears, she had a fresh scar on her neck and something in her eyes reminded you of yourself.

You had blinked and she had given you a look before offering you a smile of sorts. Gesturing with her head she began walking towards the dozens of desks.

“This way please.”

You stood up, not fully understanding why and Elysa gave you a look of surprise but followed after you and Officer Brooklyn. She stopped in front of a desk and gestured to a seat. You sat down not even looking at who was in front of you.

“Eddie what is this about-”

Something about that voice was familiar to you and you looked up, however instead of seeing someone familiar you saw a dark haired man with bright blue eyes in a uniform.

The man in front of you blinked twice before holding out his hand and you flinched almost instinctively. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Eddie flinch as well.

“I’m Detective Richard Grayson, it’s nice to meet you...?”

“I’m Elysa Aidenson. And I’m here because my friend needs help.” Elysa said instantly.

You shook your head in protest however Elysa ignored you. Detective Grayson did not, he instead looked at you and you felt like shrinking down in your chair. If Daniel knew you were here he’d kill you. Not only were you going to talk to the police, forced or not, about personal matters, you were without him in front of another man.

“Why do you need help?”

“I don’t-” You began when Elysa scoffed.

You sighed in almost frustration before remarking, “I don’t need help. He just got a little mad! He said it won’t happen again besides it’s more my fault then anything....”

Detective Grayson gave you a look almost as if what you said pained him and Officer Brooklyn had a strange look on her face almost as if what she was hearing was familiar. Detective Grayson leaned forward to say something but Officer Brooklyn stopped him before he could.

“What’s your name?” She asked, her voice soft.

You looked at her and you didn’t see pity in her eyes but understanding, a recognition of some sort. You swallowed and looked at her for a moment more before turning back to Detective Grayson.

“I’m Y/N. Y/n L/N.”

You blinked back into reality and found Detective Brooklyn writing something down in the file. Shaking your head slightly you blinked again.

“You know,” Detective Brooklyn began not looking up from the file, “every time I see you come in here, you’re injured.”

She looked up slowly from the file, a strange look on her face, almost worried.

“Though last time it was much worse.”

You nodded somewhat slowly before clearing your throat. You had to figure out why you were here before the memories overcame you and you had a panic attack.

“Why am I here again Detective?”

Detective Brooklyn tilted her head before raising an eyebrow at you, “You already know Y/n. He’s back. And he wants you.”

The air caught in your throat and you choked out a breath staring at her in disbelief.

“You didn’t even try to sugar coat it!” Was the only thing you could find yourself saying.

Detective Brooklyn sighed, setting the file down before she shrugged, “Seemed to me that it wouldn’t help since you had already guessed. It’s why your lip is busted. You were biting your lip, I assume, and bit too hard... I would know. It’s happened to me before.”

Something about her words seemed to have a double meaning and you stared at her nose, it was a bit longer and a tad bigger then you remembered but it had been almost three years.

“I just wanted to let you know because I’m going to be assigning you a protection detail starting tomorrow. Daniel Natalonie is one of the biggest players in the Gotham Underworld these days. Well him and Caleb Brooklyn.”

She said the words as if she hadn’t just revealed something astronomical about herself. And that Daniel.. well he had gotten what he always wanted, power. You swallowed and Detective Brooklyn sighed.

“Yes, Caleb Brooklyn is my father. No, I have no contact with him. However I do know that Daniel has a price on your head... well sort of. He is willing to pay big bucks to anyone that brings him you.”

You flinched and then watched her clench her fist regret flashing in her eyes before she shrugged and leaned back in her chair.

“You have a choice here Y/N. You can have the protection detail... or well I have a few off the record friends who would be happy to help.”

You couldn’t help but think of Nightwing. In his black and blue suit smiling at you and your stomach flipped. Your memories were mixing, you knew because instead of seeing him sitting on your couch, he was on the fire escape smiling that same smile at you.

“But if you want you can just have the normal protection detail.”

You shifted in your seat and avoided her gaze. For a moment your eyes darted to her neck and the scar was still there. Isn’t wasn’t as fresh as it was almost three years ago, but it was still there.

“I-”You began not fully sure of what you wanted to say, “I’ll do whatever works easiest for you.”

Detective Brooklyn sighed slightly, shooting you a strange kind of smile. She then hesitated before holding up a hand and picking up the phone. She quickly punched in a number and held the receiver to her face.

“Hi, It’s Eddie. Yeah I was wondering what the word about the protective detail for Y/N L/N was? ... They what? Okay, No, no I can handle it. Yeah. Thanks bye.”

Rubbing her forehead she hung up the phone and gave you an apologetic look. Leaning back in her chair she opened her mouth to speak only to close it. Sighing once again she finally spoke.

“For some reason they decided you don’t need a protective detail. Some jackass who is probably in Natalonie’s pocket planted the idea in some upper management's heads that you’ll be fine on your own and it’s not our job to keep you safe from ‘non-existent ’ threats.”

You sank into your chair slightly giving her a nervous look when the phone suddenly rang. Detective Brooklyn picked it up running a hand across her forehead, as stray pieces of hair slipped out.

“Eddie Brooklyn- oh hi Bruce.... they WHAT?” Standing up suddenly she got an alarmed look on her face before her voice cracked as she said, “I am so sorry about that! Oh so the kitchen didn’t catch fire? Alfred caught it? Oh thank goodness... so no one’s hurt? They’re on their way right now? Alright well thank you so much for allowing them to spend the day there. It was a big help.”

She nodded, slowly sinking back into her chair and it was then that you realized Detective Brooklyn was talking about the Wayne family. Alfred, Bruce, Tim? Definitely the Wayne’s what confused you was who Ria and Flori were. Judging by the way she was acting you assumed it was Detective Brooklyn’s children. Though if they were playing with Damian they would have to be a bit older and unless she had kids at like fourteen that was highly unlikely.

“Of course, yes... he’s on his way? Okay. Thank you again.”

Hanging up the phone Detective Brooklyn stood up, yanking her coat on. You followed her to your feet and she grabbed a bag along with keys before moving away from her desk.

“My shift is just about over, so I’m about to head out. Come with me would you? I have a few more questions I want to ask.”

You followed Detective Brooklyn outside and just off to the side of the station was what looked like a fairly nice car. Two girls no more than eleven dashed from it towards you and Detective Brooklyn.

“EDDIE!” The girl with bright red hair squealed as she ran towards her.

Instead of smiling and moving towards the girl with the same excitement Detective Brooklyn gave the girl a reprimanding look. But it didn’t stop her from slamming into Detective Brooklyn, wrapping her into a hug.

“Ria!”

A girl with a more sandy red-blonde hair who looked almost exactly like the redhead stopped right next to Detective Brooklyn and the first girl.

Twins.

The word was at the front of your mind before you could stop it. The two girls looked at you; the redhead had bright green eyes and a wide smile. She pulled away from Detective Brooklyn and held out her hand.

“I’m Ria!”

“Ria!” The other one remarked pulling on her arm, her dark blue eyes clouded.

The redhead- Ria, looked to the other and smiled brighter. She grabbed onto her sister’s arm and pulled her forwards.

“Come on Flori! We need to be more friendly. This is the librarian I was telling you about.”

You blinked twice before realizing the little girl you have given a book to right before panicking and cursing at Dick the other day was none other than the girl in front of you.

The other girl, Flori, gave Ria a look of surprise and asked, “When did you have time to go to the library?”

“When you were playing with Steph. Cass told me where to go.”

Flori gave Ria a look of shock and Detective Brooklyn snorted. You took a step back for a moment. Something about the three of them made you want to smile, but it also made you want to get as far away as you possibly could. If Daniel was after you, he’d go through anyone... anyone to get to you. And you couldn’t put these girls in harm’s way.

Turning to leave you noted the dark sky and remembered that you had no way to get home. Closing your eyes you let out a sigh however before you could even take another step you heard the sound of feet hitting the ground. Opening your eyes you saw Nightwing standing in front of you.

However instead of his usual smile you found a concerned look on his face. He took a step forward looking at you almost as if he was checking you over for injuries.

“Hey Nightwing,” Detective Brooklyn remarked, capturing his attention.

The concern looked slipped away from his face and he quickly replaced it with a smile.

“Detective... girls.”

Ria laughed in what you could only call a maniacal way and Flori snorted. Smiling slightly you looked over to them and saw Ria looking between you and Nightwing a strange look on her face. Flori had a gleam in her eye and she and Ria shared a look before grinning in an evil kind of way. However before you could even think to question it Nightwing was asking you a question.

“Huh?” You asked since you didn’t hear him.

“Where do you think you are going?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow.

You give him a confused look. Fiddling with your fingers you looked at him and he looked you in the eyes. Your cheeks flushed and you took a step back as the feelings wrapped around your throat.

“A-hot-ment- I mena- mean. I mean, I’m going back to my apartment why?”

Nightwing raised an eyebrow at your comment before remarking, “Alone?”

You nodded and he sighed. Shaking his head he placed his hands on his hips and gave you an almost reprimanding look and you gave him a confused one.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t really go home any other way.” You replied feeling even more confused than before.

“With your psycho ex on the loose?”

You froze for a moment and you could swear you heard his footsteps. Swallowing you pushed the thought away and took a step back from Nightwing. A slightly surprised expression crossed his face and then he winced, dropping his arms.

Shifting slightly you shrugged not wanting to meet his gaze. Rubbing on your arm you sighed trying your hardest to pick up the courage to look him in the eyes. However the thoughts hit you so hard you had to choke back tears.

Now look what you’ve done, you’ve upset him. Maybe it’s a good thing that Daniel’s back, maybe it’s a good thing he wants you again. After all you deserved everything that happened to you

You sunk into yourself a bit, parts of you tried to tell yourself that the thoughts were wrong but you didn’t truly believe it. Why did you always have to go and fuck everything up.

“I’ll be okay.” You finally forced out.

Part of you wanted to assure Nightwing that it wouldn’t matter if you ended up dead because it would be for the best. However the thoughts weren’t through with you yet.

You’re just phishing for sympathy for him to tell you you’re wrong because you know he will

But really you weren’t you just wanted him to stop caring because you weren’t ever going to change. You were terrible. Horrible. Awful really.

“Hey, I know what you’re doing. Don’t do that. Don’t do it, don’t you dare!” Nightwing suddenly said.

Before you could even react he had your face in his hands and was looking you dead in the eye. Cupping your cheeks he leaned in slightly.

“You are amazing Y/N. Completely and totally incredible honestly. You don’t deserve a single damn thing that happened to you. You are one of the funniest, kindest and honest to god prettiest women I ever met. You radiate this kind of light I haven’t seen anyone else radiate. You make my darkest days bright so don’t you dare think you are anything less than spectacular.”

Your cheeks flushed and you gave him a surprised look as the feelings you’d been trying so hard to push back jumped straight into your throat and you had a violent urge to kiss him.

However, you knew better. Mainly because as soon as he saw your bright red cheeks Nightwing let you go, his cheeks flushing slightly. He cleared his throat and you held a hand to your chest as if to catch the heart that was about to beat out of it.

Of course you knew people cared about you but something as blunt as that... something so direct hit you hard. You swallowed again, your heart beating rapidly pushing all your nerves away.

“... If I can’t go home what am I going to do?”

Nightwing looked at you for a moment and you felt flustered. Your feelings were thrumming in your chest and lungs along with the beating of your heart. However instead of saying anything he just looked at you.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and you looked to see a slightly smug looking Detective Brooklyn with the twins clinging to her sides. She raised an eyebrow at Nightwing, who then took a step away from you.

“Y/N can always crash with me if she wants... I mean if she doesn’t wanna have a sleepover with you, Blue.”

You froze for a moment and the thought of Nightwing staying over at your apartment, of you talking to him early into the next morning... of you sleepily confessing your feelings to him. Heat flushed your cheeks again and you shook your head.

“I uh,” You began causing both Nightwing and Detective Brooklyn to look at you, “I’ll stay with Detective Brooklyn tonight.... I mean for all we know Daniel’s waiting at my apartment to ambush me.”

You had stammered slightly but Nightwing nodded and a slight smile appeared on his face. The twins were looking at you, Ria’s green eyes were almost glowing and she blinked once then twice.

“Why are you so pretty miss?” She asked bluntly.

Your blush intensified and you scrambled to answer her as you watched her sister nod in agreement, as if she had the exact same question.

You wanted to reply but only gibberish came out. When the gibberish escaped you, Ria pointed a finger at you, her jaw dropping. Detective Brooklyn leaned forward and pushed Ria’s arm down. However a grin exploded onto Ria’s face and she began jumping up and down.

“The nice and pretty librarian does what I do!”

She squealed with delight and all the worry about embarrassing yourself slipped away from you. Ria turned towards Flori and stuck her tongue out at her before blowing a raspberry.

“I told you pretty people could do that!”

Flori smiled slightly before rolling her eyes, “I’m still the attractive twin.” She remarked.

She then used her finger to pull her nose up and she snorted a few times continuing, “Miss Piggy.”

“Liking food does not make me a pig.”

“Naming your stomach does make you a loser though.” Flori retorted.

Ria gasped in a clear dramatic fashion as she pressed her hand to her chest, “Marshmallow and I are both offended, that was very rude Flori.”

Detective Brooklyn snorted, then tried to cover it up by coughing and looking away as she smiled fondly. Catching you staring at her, her smile widened and she laughed slightly. Then she turned to the girls and sighed.

“Alright ladies, it’s time to head home.”

“But Eddie!” They said in unison.

“If we go home we can have a movie night and eat those cupcakes I’ve been hiding for you guys.”

“CUPCAKES?” Ria squealed as Flori’s jaw dropped.

It was then a hand came down on your shoulder and you flinched slightly. Looking you found Nightwing giving you a concerned look again. You blinked at him almost asking what was wrong.

“You gonna be okay?”

Turning back towards the girls who were now having a poke war, you smiled and nodded.

“I think I’m going to be just fine.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Nightmares of the past, memories so clear you could even taste them, yanked you from your sleep.

Ghost touches raced across your skin and you shuttered, pulling your legs to your chest, you took in a deep breath and tried to calm down. However it was a bit difficult. Your breathing was erratic and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t calm yourself down. However, when you heard the small soft voices you began to come back into reality.

“Do you think a hug will help?”

“It doesn’t help me when I get like that. But it might, I think she’s just scared not... Should we ask Eddie?”

“Maybe Ria. Maybe.”

You took a deep breath in and your breathing slowed down, closing your eyes, you took in another breath. As you let it out you felt someone sit down next to you. Peeking an eye open you saw Flori looking up at you with concern and curiosity mixed on her face.

“Are you okay, miss?”

You nodded slowly, taking another breath in you nodded a bit more firmly and looked at her. Accidentally you met her eyes and her dark blue eyes reminded you of the color of the sky right before night fully took over. She blinked and raised an eyebrow at you slightly confused.

“Are you sure? Do you want a hug?”

Before you knew what you were doing you replied, “I’m fine... but a hug would be nice.”

Flori’s face brightened and she wrapped her small arms around you. You returned her hug and saw over Flori’s shoulder, Ria lurking in the darkness a blanket wrapped around her shoulder. She stepped forwards into the light and blinked. Her face was paler than earlier, she looked empty for a moment before she blinked and a smile was on her face.

It, being around Ria and Flori, reminded you of your childhood. Of your busy household and the noise, the laughter that it always held.

When you heard the sound of angry whispering you blinked and Flori pulled away from you. She looked back to Ria and the two got excited looks on their faces. Suddenly Flori was off the couch and Ria was running down the hall. Flori froze and turned back towards you. She held out her hand and smiled.

“Come on.”

You didn’t exactly know how you felt about a ten year old telling you what to do but you stood up and took her hand. Curiosity was burning through you, what could get the girls this excited?

You turned the corner and Ria was leaning around another corner smiling brightly. She saw the two of you and motioned for you to come towards her. You did and stopped before peering around the corner as well.

What you saw was... well incredibly surprising.

The window was open and Detective Brooklyn- Eddie was trying to shove Red Hood out it.

“Aw come on doll.”

“Y/n is here Hood. She knows I’m a cop and that you have a warrant out for your arrest!”

“Commissioner Gordon told me if I turn enough criminals in to him that would go away.”

“He did not! He would never.”

Red Hood shrugged before throwing his hands out in a I guess so motion. Eddie took this opportunity to get him mostly out of the window before he realized what she was doing and grabbed onto the window frame, pulling himself back in and undoing her work. Flori and Ria giggled, catching his attention. He turned towards you, poking his head back into the apartment.

“Girls! Come on out and help me, will ya?”

Flori snorted but moved out from the corner, Ria went to do so but paused first rubbing at her chest slightly before shaking her head and following after her sister.

You watched from around the corner as the girls stopped at Eddie’s side. She gave them a stink eye as she continued to try and push Red Hood out the window.

“You two shouldn’t be up. Especially you Ria.”

Taking the opportunity, due to Eddie being distracted, Red Hood pushed himself back into the apartment. Eddie wobbled and then fell on her butt cursing.

“Hood!” She snapped her face flushing.

Red Hood sighed before climbing back through the window. He looked at the girls and they laughed in a maniacal way. He laughed slightly before sighing again.

“You guys wanna try and convince her to let me in?”

The girls looked at each other then at Eddie and shook their heads. At least they’re loyal, you thought with a smile.

“I have a front door and you have normal clothes. If you had done this the normal way, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” Eddie replied as she stood up.

“What would we be doing if I did it the normal way?”

You had to stop yourself from snorting. Eddie’s face was still flushed from when she hit the floor however you caught her eye roll and the hand gesture she showed him but not the girls.

Putting up his hands in defeat he nodded, “Fine, fine you win. Can I at least have a kiss goodbye?”

Eddie froze for a moment, you saw her tilt her head to the side before she blinked and shook her head.

“No.”

Red Hood crossed his arms and you were sure though you didn’t know him very well that under his helmet he was pouting, “Why not?”

“Because I know you Ja-. I know you Hood and if you can convince me to kiss you, you’re going to think you can convince me to let you in.”

Instead of replying Red Hood was silent which seemed strange. Looking towards him you saw him facing the girls and Ria’s wobbling slightly.

“Hood what’s-”

“You alright Squirt?” Red Hood asked, hopping in through the window and moving towards Ria.

“Ugh,” She muttered, her voice weak, “my chest hurts.”

It was then she dropped towards the ground. However instead of hitting the ground Red Hood caught her and pulled her up slightly.

“Ria!” Both Eddie and Flori exclaimed.

The two of them rushed towards her and Flori grabbed onto Ria’s arm as Eddie looked her over.

“Did you take your medicine Ria?”

The girl shook her head and Eddie glared at her.

“I don’t like them.” Ria mumbled as she leaned against Red Hood.

“I don’t care if you don’t like them, Ria, you need them... Flori would go and-” Eddie began but before she could even finish Flori was up and out of sight.

Before you knew it your found yourself in front of Eddie and Red Hood. You heard Flori’s footsteps racing around the apartment.

“Is-” You began hearing your voice crack, “is she gonna be okay?”

Eddie looked at you and for a moment you saw her gaze jump to Red Hood in a kind of nervous way. However, Red Hood answered your question.

“If she takes her meds, she’ll be fine. But the stubborn little squirt doesn’t like to.”

“They taste like shit.” Ria mumbled.

There was a pause of silence and Eddie glaring at Red Hood. She gave him a I told you so look. And he sighed.

“This is why I don’t like you cursing around them.”

“She cursed the bat brat out the other day. I don’t think it’s got anything to do with me.”

“She did what?”

“Curse the bat brat out. It was amazing. He couldn't even say a reply, he was stunned by Squirt’s colorful and creative wit.”

Ria laughed slightly before wincing and Eddie sighed. She rubbed her face looking even more exhausted than before and Flori came dashing back into the room, carrying a medicine bottle and a water bottle.

Flori passed them to Eddie who gestured to Red Hood to hold Ria up a bit more before looking at you. Flori passed you her head hanging down slightly.

“Would you,” Eddie began after Flori turned around the corner, “watch Flori for me? She always has a hard time when Ria has her fits.”

You nodded without thinking and turned to follow after her. Walking a bit quicker you made it in front of Flori and Ria’s room just as the door shut. You raised a hand and your heart began pumping your chest.

You shouldn’t bother her-

If she freaks out whenever her sister has fits she probably needs someone to talk to, if you don’t talk to her she’ll be alone and afraid

Knocking on the door you waited for a moment before hearing a very quiet, “Come in.”

Opening the door you peeked your head in to see Flori sitting on one of the beds in the room. In one corner was a bed up against the wall with art and posters of musicals and ballets on it. In the other corner was a bed with nothing on the wall. Flori sat on the bed against the wall with the posters and art.

She stared at the other bed, her knees against her chest and her head resting on the tops of her knees. Walking into the room, you closed the door behind you and moved to sit on the bed next to Flori.

“Her room is like this back home too.” She whispered as you sat down.

You pulled your legs onto her bed into a crisscross. Resting one arm by your stomach you set your other arm on top of the resting one’s fist and leaned your head against your free hand.

“What do you mean?” You dared to ask.

Flori sighed and pulled her legs tighter against her chest.

“Ria’s bedroom walls. They’re blank. She has no dreams, no ambitions, nothing. She refuses too... Did you know she loves to dance? Nearly as much as I do. She knows every move I know, her favorite ballet is Giselle because she believes she can relate. But she refuses to tell our parents how much she loves to dance. Did you know Ria has the voice of an angel when she sings? She loves to sing too... she loves to do all the things she shouldn’t.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion as Flori’s voice turned bitter and sharp.

“She is so full of life to be... to be dying.”

You blinked twice and released a breath as you began to understand what was going on.

“Why- is she-” You began struggling on how to word it.

“She’s sick.” Was all Flori said.

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

You let out a sigh, for a moment you saw your mother in a hospital bed smiling at you softly. Fiddling with your hands you began to debate on whether or not to tell her your story.

“My mother... she had breast cancer. It tore her apart, seeing her in the hospital bed... slowly wasting away,” You remarked, sighing softly, “it nearly killed my father. It hurt me even though I was a little too young to fully understand. But... she got better, she recovered. She made it though it, Ria can too-”

“Ria’s sickness isn’t something she can recover from or get over. It isn’t cancer, it isn’t a cold, it isn’t the flu. Her sickness isn’t something you can catch and then get over. It’s been consuming her life since the day we were born! She’s going to die, she knows it too. It’s why she tries so hard to be bright, to be bubbly and nice despite- despite all she’s going through.” Flori snapped tears appearing in her eyes, “Our parents have kept her locked in the house for most of our lives... she has never seen a beach or even snow. Ria has no idea the thrill of tumbling down a hill or what it’s like to ride a bike because- because they never let her. Ria is going to die never having truly lived and it kills me.”

You had no idea what to say to her, or even how to begin to comfort her. Wringing your hands you bit your lip as you looked the girl over. She turned to you, tears in her eyes.

“Why? Why did it just have to be her? Why couldn’t it be me too? She’s so alone in this and- and I don’t know what to do! She has no friends, she has me, our parents and Eddie and that’s it! I have friends, I have so many people but- but it just doesn’t seem right. We are twins, we are supposed to share everything, why couldn’t we share this?”

You blinked twice, Flori really wanted to make sure her sister knew she wasn’t alone but she didn’t seem to realize lamenting over the fact that it was only Ria was the one who was sick.

“How about instead of trying to pin blame on someone for being sick you try to make her feel like her sickness isn’t the only thing about her.” You tried waving your hands, “I mean it’s clear you love her. But it isn’t your fault that she’s sick. It’s not like you wanted her to be born like this. And it seems like your parents are treating her like the only thing she is, is sick. Treat like she’s... well Ria. And I think it will make things easier for both of you.”

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Flori lower her legs away from her chest and she sat up straight. Rubbing her nose she nodded somewhat slowly.

“You’re right.”

You turned towards her and she smiled at you slightly before leaning forwards and hugging you.

“Thank you Miss L/N.”

Pulling apart you gently patted Flori’s head and shot her a soft smile, “How about you get to bed. I bet Ria will be fine in the morning.”

Flori nodded and you got up to leave. However she grabbed onto your arm stopping you in your tracks.

You looked down at her slightly confused.

“Uh, Would you stay?” She asked looking up at you.

You sighed and smiled. Nodding she quickly pulled back the covers on her bed and patted a side of it. You climbed into the bed and Flori smiled at you.

“Thank you,” She whispered with a yawn before closing her eyes, “thank you.”

You looked at her for a moment before nestling into the pillow and closing your eyes with one thought in your head.

It’s nice to be wanted.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

It had been almost two weeks since you crashed at Edelynne Brooklyn’s apartment. Two weeks since Daniel returned to town and put a price on you, two weeks since Nightwing became your personal “bodyguard.”

You would be lying if you were to say you weren’t surprised when you arrived back at your apartment, accompanied by Detective Brooklyn or Eddie. There seemed to be no sign of Daniel or any of his goons. So you settled back into your apartment.

However, Eddie informed you, for your safety it would be better for you to stay at your apartment. Not only due to the fact that she and the vigilante’s could easily surveille it, but due to the fact that Daniel could very easily convince someone to lead you away from the library to grab you.

At first you were a little bummed and it occurred to you that you had missed your date with Dick, however he didn’t try to contact you nor did Jason. Instead of worry about it you were actually having a lot of fun with Nightwing

And while Nightwing was fun to hang around and the longer you spent around him the stronger your feelings got, sometimes he was really fucking annoying.

After a late night working on library business from home you decided to sleep in the next morning, Nightwing it seemed, decided that wasn’t going to happen.

At seven in the morning while you were blissfully asleep you felt something gently tap your shoulder, then your face. Blinking blearily you sat up.

“Good morning Gorgeous.”

Standing over your in his classic black and blue costume was Nightwing. Grumbling, you flopped back onto your bed and pulled your covers over your head.

“Fuck off,” You stated loud enough he could still hear you, “I’m trying to sleep.”

You heard a slight snort, then suddenly your blanket was gone and you were lying on your bed shivering. Sitting up you glared at Nightwing who held your stolen blanket in his gloved hands.

Readying yourself into a crouched position you waited for a moment before jumping towards the blanket. Just as you were about to grab it Nightwing yanked it out of your reach and caught you in his arms.

He laughed at your frustrated expression and as you crossed your arms and pouted. Setting you on the ground he smiled broadly at you and remarked.

“Why do you have to be so cute?”

Without thinking you replied looking him dead in the eyes, “Why do you have to be so hot?”

Nightwing blinked a few times, looking slightly shocked, he lowered your blanket closer to the floor and looked at you almost as if he didn’t believe it.

“What did you say?”

You froze as you realized what you said. Your face flushed and you shifted slightly, breaking his gaze before looking to the floor.

“Nothing, it was nothing.”

Nightwing gave you a skeptical look before he leaned towards you a suggestive smile on his face. Your face turned a brighter shade of red and you realized this was a perfect opportunity to grab the blanket from his hands.

Lunging forwards you yanked the blanket from him. You had just grasped it and began to pull away when Nightwing began to pull back until he didn’t. The blanket went limp in your hands and you fell onto your butt.

Nightwing blinked twice and shook his head. Running his hand through his hair he let out a frustrated grunt before sighing.

“I’ve- I’ve got to go. But I’ll be right back.”

He headed towards the window and you blinked in surprise. Scrambling to your feet you chased after him grabbing onto his arm. He turns back towards you, a clearly torn expression on his face.

“Wait,” You said, giving him a confused look as the thoughts descended upon you.

He’s leaving, he’ll never come back, it’s because you’re a mistake a problem a beast-

“Where are you going?”

Nightwing looked at you and sighed, he then stroked the side of your face with one of his hands. You leaned into his touch and then he pulled away.

“I’ve got to go, the other vigilante’s need my help with something but I’ll be right back.”

You blinked and realized while it had been fun with Nightwing being here and hanging out with him you could finally get out of your apartment. You smiled at him and then he gave you a suspicious look.

“You, “ he began looking at you, “are going to stay here, Okay?”

“But-” You protested for a moment throwing your hands up before he cut you off taking your face into his hands.

“If anything happened to you, it would utterly ruin me.” He said somewhat slowly as he rested his head against yours.

Your cheeks flushed once again and you blinked a few times. Pulling away from you he sighed and slowly pulled his hands away from your cheeks. He probably said goodbye but you were in too much shock to realize it and before you knew he was on your window sill and then gone.

You sighed feeling the temptation to leave however his words echoed in your ears and you shook your head.

“If anything happened to you, it would utterly ruin me.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you sat down by the window resting your chin in your hand and you waited. And waited. And waited. You waited even when the storm clouds rolled in, even when they split open and rain began to pour down. You waited for hours. It was only when the night was turning day again as the rain continued to pour from the heavens that he returned.

Your window swung open and your stomach swirled, however it was a soaked Nightwing that came through the window and not Daniel or some random thug.

You rushed towards him and quickly wrapped him in a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so worried about you. I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you. I mean like I don’t really think my feelings matter since your a hero and whatever and people would say so much shit to you if anything started between us- not that it would. But it’s just I care about you a lot.” You rambled as you pressed your face into his chest.

Oh gosh, you couldn’t believe you just blurted all of that out. Maybe he didn’t hear all of it. Maybe some of it was muffled. Maybe, you hoped, maybe.

For a moment the world seemed to stop and everything was right. Then Nightwing had his hands on your shoulders and pulled you away from him. He gave you a slightly angry look and you instantly regretted your little ramble.

“What is this nonsense about other people? I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.”

You blinked once, then twice, then three times before you fully understood what he said.

“I love every damned piece of you ”

“No matter what anyone else says.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you gave him a wide-eyed look. Your pretty sure your jaw had dropped and your stomach swirled as you replayed his words over and over and over again in your head.

“You,” You began your voice almost squeaking, “love me?”

Nightwing smiled and nodded, pressing his head against yours.

“Of course I love you. I’d be an idiot not to.”

You blushed and flushed and tried to stutter out a reply but unfortunately you couldn’t. Your cheeks were heated and you felt your heart racing in your chest.

For some reason the first thing your mind jumped to was Dick Grayson, how you had a crush on him no matter your feelings- your love for Nightwing.

“But-” You began taking a step back from him, “I- I have a crush.”

A smile slowly formed on Nightwing’ s face as you took another step back from him.

“I mean I love- like. LIKE! I like you but, I do have a crush and - and” You rambled shaking your hands very confused.

Nightwing laughed, he actually laughed and you felt your cheeks flushing an even darker color. He took a step towards you and you took a step away from him. He raised his hands almost in defense and remarked,

“About that...”

“About what?” You asked, suddenly feeling suspicious.

“About the whole crush and me thing, I know who your crush is.”

You gave him a confused look and shook your head. there was no way he knew who your crush was, there wasn’t!

“It’s Dick Grayson.”

You looked at him in surprise, your jaw dropping nearly in shock. He laughed slightly at your face before taking a step towards you. This time you didn’t take a step back. He got closer until he was right in front of you.

“And I,” Nightwing began, reaching up for his eye mask, “Am Dick Grayson.”

He took off his eye mask and looked at you. You blinked your eyes going wide as you saw his face. His very much Dick Grayson face.

Nightwing is Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson is Nightwing......

You talked about your crush to your crush.........

As your mind exploded in on itself Nightson- Dickwing- the man in front of you held out his hands as if he was going to catch you were you to faint.

You laughed slightly then proceeded to place your face in your hands and let out moans of despair.

He knew.

He knew every little thing that you thought- well most of the things that you thought. He knew of your side of the situation- wait. Wait, why did he ask that? Why did he-

“Why did you ask me if my anxiety tends to make me tune people out?” You found yourself questioning.

Dickwing- or whoever he was smiled at you and laughed slightly before replying,

“Well, because when we were in the aisle at the library and you asked what I liked I said I like you.”

You froze once again blinking in surprise. So he tried to ask you out previously. That’s why Jason and Damian were laughing.

Jason and Damian.... if Dick was Nightwing that meant they were probably vigilante’s too. Red Robin.... definitely Tim.

Bruce must be Batman which would mean Damian is Robin. That just left Jason.

However, before you could try and figure out which vigilante Jason was, your phone buzzed. Pulling it out of your pocket you looked at your phone to see a text from Eddie.

Eddie: Come to the station, now, you need to see this.

You showed ... Dick your phone. He hummed slightly and gave you a look.

“We might as well go... but first let me change”

You nodded with a sigh and went and got your coat.

Before you knew it you were walking up to the station. On the roof of the station was a flash of red. As you got closer you realized it wasn’t a flash but a helmet. Sitting on the roof of the Gotham City police department was Red Hood.

He spotted you and Dick and waved. You blinked as you noticed the other man tied up on the roof looking fairly angry. It was Daniel. Your breathing stopped for just a moment until he tried to wriggled only for Red Hood to kick him and for Daniel to stop moving.

“Oh would you look at that, it’s a pretty librarian. How ya doin sweetheart?” Red Hood remarked getting just a bit closer to you.

You heard Dick sigh and gave Red Hood a confused look. Slowly the gear in your mind began to turn.

“I assume,” Red Hood mused since he didn’t get an answer from you, “You’re doing much better now that scum like Natalonie’s off the streets am I right?”

Before you could reply Eddie walked out of the station looking at her phone. She looked up at you and waved before walking towards you. She stopped at your side and gestured towards Red Hood.

“See what I mean?” She remarked.

“Detective, Detective, Detective,” Red Hood whistled looking at Eddie, “where can I get your number?”

Eddie replied in a sweet tone, “Up your ass maybe?”

Red Hood laughed before getting even closer to the edge of the roof, “Come on doll that’s no way to be.”

“Fuck off to some one who care Hood.” Eddie replied, flipping him the bird.

You heard Red Hood laugh again but before he could say anything else he looked in a different direction and his shoulders sank a little. Looking back to Eddie, had he not been wearing a helmet you swear he would be smiling.

“I guess I’ll have to try you again later Detective.”

Eddie rolled her eyes, the semblance of a smile starting to form on her face, she shook her head and flipped him off again, “In your dreams Hood.”

“Where else would they be doll?” Red Hood remarked before giving a quick salute and taking off.

It took you a moment to realize it but the puzzle piece began to fit together. How Eddie nearly called Red Hood by his name, why he seemed to know who you were, why he talked to you so casually when you met him when you were staying with Eddie.

Red Hood was Jason... which meant Eddie was the girl. The one he couldn’t get over. It all made sense... well sort of.

“Oh my gosh.” You muttered pressing a hand to your face as you realized that Eddie shoved Jason out a window.

“You just connected it didn’t you?” Dick asked with a smile.

You looked at him slightly confused, raising an eyebrow almost in question, you give him a confused look.

“Daniel’s going to prison for a very long time.” Eddie informed you as she looked at her phone again shaking her head, she looked up and smiled at you.

“Have fun you two,” She then said with a wink before turning to walk away.

You flushed slightly before turning to Dick. He smiled at you and you took in a breath.

He was the only man who had your affections. Basically All the Man that you needed. So you should probably tell him how you feel.

“I honestly don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.” You said slowly, not exactly meeting his eyes.

He laughed slightly before pressing his head to yours, “Neither do I.”

You smiled and looked up, looking at him in his bright blue eyes.

“So, how about a rain-check on that date?”

You smiled slyly and then the both of you burst into laughter.

“I’ve got time,” He replied, “for you, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Blushing slightly, you smiled at him and sighed, “Awesome.”

=============================================================

AUTHOR’S NOTE!!!!

Okay first thing’s first I just wanna let you guys know my original idea of all the man that I need was like gonna be a full on fic. I told my friend all about it and like it had a lot details and everything, but then I got to college and even thought I really love doing these, it was super difficult to write. Not because I don't’ have tome because I actually have a surprising amount of free time but because I just couldn’t find any inspiration. So a few days ago I decided I was going to start spooky season a little early and try writing to some Halloween music.... and it worked! I was able to get moving with this two-shot! So yeah Halloween music is my muse right now 😂.

But yeah, anyways my OC’s... technically there was a lot of them in this but only two are going to have stories, the others will be either background characters or part of their past. I’ll tell you one because it’s actually the first idea I and for a batfam fanfic. It’s Eddie and her story. I’m not gonna lie it’s kinda sad but not nearly has sad as the other one because I have a lot of issues🤣.

Back to the point if y’all wanna see more of certain OC’s just let me know I can find a way to include them into the one-shots, two-shots or fics. But yeah.

Finally I might be a little slower on the posting just because I’m in school and finding enough time to get inspiration and write, edit and have a friend proof-read it will take a while. But I will definitely have some done. Anyway thanks so much for being sooo patient with me!

Lots of love!

-Redhead-batgirl

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003, @battlenix, @sol-the-salmon

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