#I skipped last month cause I was editing
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sympathy for the devil - e.m.
demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)
i found god, i found him in a lover.
when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…
i found the devil, i found him in a lover.
and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…
warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas
word count: 3k
a/n: it’s me back again with another repost of an old fic. i also want to give a big shout out to my darling @undead-supernova for helping me edit multiple parts this fic. ily august 💕
You knew he was here.
From the smell of sulfur lingering in the air, to the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too great, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray.
But maybe he wanted you to find him.
This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.
“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”
You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”
He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.
He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.
Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.
He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.
But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.
The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.
This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.
But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.
Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.
Lips that had been on you too many times to count.
“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.
Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.
After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.
Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.
“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.
Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.
And now you’d never get him back.
“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.
His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.
From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.
His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.
“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.
The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.
“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.
“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.
A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.
His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.
“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”
Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.
Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!
Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.
“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.
I’m warning you, dickhead.
His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”
“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.
“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.
Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.
Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.
You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.
The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.
His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.
The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.
The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”
You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.
The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.
“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.
Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.
While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.
The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.
You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.
“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.
Mine, not yours…
Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.
“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.
Fuck, that’s my girl…
You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.
It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.
The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.
She really is an angel…
The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.
The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.
“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”
You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.
Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.
“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.
Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.
You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.
“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”
Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.
Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.
He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.
“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.
His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.
“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.
Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.
“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.
In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.
“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.
You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.
In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.
Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.
“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”
Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.
#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#kas eddie munson#kas!eddie munson#kas!eddie munson x reader#supernatural x stranger things au
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dress
“even in my worst times, you could see the best of me”
pairing: cam cameron x fem!reader
summary: in which you and cam have hated each other for as long as you can remember. but what if that hatred wasn’t actually what you thought it was.
warnings: fluff, angst (a little idk), enemies to lovers, lmk if i should add more, not edited
a/n: FINALLY i’m back yall!! i’ll probably disappear for like another few months again but i really had to post this one bc there aren’t enough fics for my bae cam 🫶🏼 and my requests are open!! i don’t want my work copied, translated and/or posted on another platform without it being discussed with me.
my masterlist
Inhale. Exhale.
The nerves were flooding in as you waited for your turn to be ‘presented to society’. Being a debutant and actually participating in the stuff you found nonsense at first was the last thing you expected you’d be doing this summer. What you didn’t expect in a million years either, was falling for the one you sworn you hated with every single part of you.
You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it began, but it hit you hard when you heard that Belly broke up with Cam. Thoughts of the two of you being together flooded your mind, and though you tried to push them away, they lingered.
Instead of pursuing these thoughts, you distanced yourself from Cam, which turned out to be more difficult than expected since he seemed to be everywhere you were.
Cam was taken aback by your sudden distance. Although you both disliked each other, you never missed the opportunity to bicker. Now, whenever he tried to engage, you either ignored him or replied formally without any insults.
And if Cam had to be honest, it made him feel this pain in his chest. Especially when you started to hangout him with this guy you had met at the bonfire. The same guy you befriended to try to forget Cam. And also the same guy who was your escort to the debutant ball.
Cam tried to come up with reasons for your distance, and one day, he found himself standing in front of your house. Cam wasn’t sure what he was going to say or do, but he was determined to see you. His heart skipped a beat when he made it to the porch and he halted in front of the door, taking a deep breath in.
He was about to knock, when a thought jumped into his head.
You were scrolling on your phone, trying everything to get Cam out of your head. But everything you saw reminded him of you. You even came past a video of whales and wanted to scream out loud. Why was your phone working against you?
A knock on your window interrupted your furious thoughts and confusion washed over you. You don’t remember meeting up with anyone, or telling someone to come by your window. Scared that it might be a burglar, you grabbed the first object you saw to use as a weapon. However, when you opened your window, the last person you expected was in front of you, heavily panting. “Cameron?” You questioned, lowering your weapon since there wasn’t an actual real threat.
“Hi.” He simply greeted with a grin, before climbing into your room. He stood way too close to you, making your breath hitch as he dusted himself off. But you weren’t going to let him notice what kind of effect he had on you, so the best you could do is just bicker like you used to to mask it.
“What are you doing here? Trying to rob me or something?” You asked as you took a few steps back, “‘Cause I’m not afraid to use this!” You showed the bedside table lamp in your hands.
“Calm down, Y/l/n,” He chuckled as he put his hand on your arm to lower it, and you just allowed him to do so. You felt yourself relax at the warmth and touch of his hand and mentally cursed yourself for this. He liked at you with a small smile, a smile that made your heart flutter in your chest.
Cam’s hand lingered on your arm, before he cleared his throat and quickly removed it. Around everyone, he was always shy and reserved, but with you it was different. You brought out some confidence in him he never knew he had. And Cam never understood why, but with you, he felt at ease and weirdly enough, safe. Whenever he even looked in your direction, his worries would vanish as if they never existed.
Cam walked past you slowly and looked around your room. He tried to memorise every object on your desk, every little detail in your room. “Why are you ignoring me?” He asked, throwing his head over his shoulder to look at you. You were standing there at loss for words, trying to come up with a good excuse. He nodded to himself when you didn’t answer before continuing his walk around your room.
“I should be asking you the questions! Why are you in my room, Sextus?” You crossed your arms over chest and watched him let out a laugh at the name you called him. The sound made you burst of out happiness, but you weren’t planning on showing.
“Please, Ceres, be honest with me…” He started walking back towards you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he remembered the name you used at the latin convention made your heart skip a beat. “Why would I?” You said with a loud huff and you turned your head to the side with your eyes closed.
When you opened your eyes, Cam’s face was only an inch from yours, and you felt your guard fall down. It would’ve been so much easier if Cam didn’t have this effect on you. Your face fell. “Stop.” You mumbled, inaudible for him to hear.
“What was that?” He inquired genuinely, getting even closer if that was even possible. “Stop!” You spoke out louder, making him jump out of his skin, but soft enough for it to be a whisper. “Stop what?” Cam asked curiously. You stared into his eyes, trying to find something, think of something to make you hate him again. But as you looked into his deep eyes, all you could think about what you could be, as something else than enemies.
You looked at the ground in defeat, before continuing, “I’m trying so hard, Cameron, so hard.”
Cam was quiet as he looked at you with a confused look on his face, and he wanted you to tell him everything that was on your mind. When you looked up at him, Cam noticed that there was something else in your eyes. Something else than what he usually saw, and he couldn’t quite place what it was. “Cameron, I’m trying so hard not to hate you.” You whispered.
Cam’s heart was pounding out of his chest, while he was looking at you with his mouth agape ever so slightly. He hoped your words meant what he thought they meant, and his hand reached for yours.
A yell of your name woke both you and Cam out of your trance, eyes widening in panic. “Is everything okay up there?” Your mom yelled from downstairs, and you heard her footsteps coming up the stairs. Cam rushed towards your window, and you helped him get out quickly. Before he got down, he said something that you spent thinking about the weeks that followed, “I’m really trying hard to hate you too, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try.”
Ever since he dropped by, you had avoided him more than you initially did. And that made Cam wonder what he did or said wrong that day. You were all what he could think about, and if he wasn’t thinking about you, he was dreaming about you or speaking about you.
Whenever you saw him, you would walk the other way, you would pretend you didn’t see him standing. You basically ignored his existence. And for Cam it felt like a stab through the heart, a deep and painful one.
This continued until the debutant ball.
Cam was standing on the flight of stairs behind two other escorts and in front of many others, waiting for the girl’s name he was escorting to be announced. He didn’t know how he ended up here, escorting a girl, who he didn’t even really knew that well, to the debutant ball, But he would do anything to keep his mother happy, so here he was.
He was nervously fidgeting with his fingers, his mind on you like it always has been since the first time he saw you. A part of him wished it was you he was escorting. He wished that he was the one who first saw you in your dress before your presentation.
He fantasised how he actually wanted this day to go. You standing there in a beautiful dress, looking drop-dead gorgeous like you always did. Him being the one to look at you with an encouraging smile and mouthing to you how enchanting you looked. It was all you deserved and more. It killed him he wasn’t the one to be doing it.
When it was Cam’s to turn to go up stage and escort the girl, he imagined it was you by his side. He flashed her a polite smile as she did the same and watched as her eyes drifted off to behind him. Cam followed her eyes and saw that she was looking at none other than the guy who was escorting you.
Cam and the girl got off the stage and walked over to the other debutants, waiting for the next debutant to be presented. And when your name was called, Cam felt a heavy flutter in his chest he most certainly couldn’t ignore.
The girl beside him watched his demeanour change at the sound of your name and smiled to herself. She always had the feeling Cam had a thing for you.
When you appeared on stage, Cam’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you looked in your dress was indescribable and the way you glowed made his heart race a million miles per hour. You scanned the crowd, trying to find a familiar face to ease your nerves. And when your eyes locked Cam’s warm ones it felt as if the world stopped turning. Every single person around you disappeared, it was just you and him.
And your nerves disappeared as quickly as they appeared.
You never pulled your eyes away from his gaze as you walked down the stage with your escort. The escort who had picked up on your crush on Cam a long while back.
Cam tried his best to keep his composure, he was refraining himself from running over to you and holding you like there was no tomorrow, he tried his best not to think about all the ways he would compliment you and make you feel good.
You and your escort halted in front of the table your parents were sitting at and you finally broke eye contact with Cam. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and you were thinking about Cam all the damn time as you waited for the presentations to finish.
When they did, every debutant with their escort bowed down to the table with their family. Afterwards, everyone sat down and waited for some surprise performance the escorts were giving. Your escort waited for you to take a seat next to one of your parents, before he parted as well after flashing you a small smile.
“You looked amazing, honey.” Your mom praised, putting a hand on your shoulder. You thanked her and looked around the ball room, trying to find the one person who lived in your mind rent free. Cam was just walking past to get to the other escorts, when his eyes met yours once again. But this time you looked away after a few seconds, trying to nonchalantly brush off the fact you had a major crush on the guy you had thought was your number one enemy.
After the sudden dance performance, your escort had disappeared somewhere, along with the girl Cam was escorting. But neither of you seemed to care, as all you did was gaze at each other longingly, waiting for the people to announce when the first dance was about to take place.
Your parents, who were seated beside you, had noticed your stares and stolen glances towards the boy and smiled at each other knowingly. You tried to hide it, but they knew you. They knew when their daughter was actually in love.
The sound of glass clinking was heard, before a woman announced that it was time. And at that moment you woke up from your trance, realising your escort was still nowhere to be seen. Every debutant, alongside with her escort was gathering on the dance floor, except for you and, well, Cam.
“Mom, where is he?” You questioned worriedly. “It doesn’t matter,” She answered, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “I think there’s someone else you’d much rather want to share this dance with.”
She tilted her head towards a certain direction, and you knew immediately who she was referring to. But your eyes followed the direction she meant anyway, with a racing heart.
Cam was standing there, looking at you like a man in love. That’s because he is. He is in love. And before you knew it, your feet made their way towards him. You halted in front of him with a smile. You were panting like you had just run a marathon, but you didn’t care, because you were right in front of who you wanted to be.
“Seems like we both don’t have a dance partner, huh?” Cam chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. All you could do was nod in respond, the words you actually wanted to speak out seeming to be stuck in your throat.
Your hands reached for his and when your fingers intertwined, you could’ve sworn you heard Cam let out a deep breath. The music started playing, and the two of you were drowning in one another’s eyes as you danced to the music just like you had practiced. The tension between the two of you was unbearable throughout the entire dance.
And once the dance ended, when you were in the end position, his face was awfully close to yours and you had to do anything in your power to not plant your lips on his. He pulled you back up, with way more force than he intended, which resulted into you being flush against his chest. Your faces only a few inches away, which made it even harder to refrain yourself.
You pulled away slowly, even when you wish you could stay like that forever. The words you desired to speak were stuck in your throat, and your eyes fell down, feeling flustered by everything that has happened this night. He wanted to say so much as he looked at you with a lovesick smile, but he didn’t know how. His right hand fine yours as he put his left hand under your chin.
He stroked your cheek gently with his thumb, his eyes fixated you and only you. You were the only thing that mattered to him any day, anywhere, anytime.
Every couple around you started to leave the dance floor, but you and Cam stayed there without a care in the world. “Let’s get out of here.” He whispered, in which you grinned to in response.
He gave your hand a gentle squeeze as you walked towards the exit of the ball room, giggles and chuckles leaving your lips. Your parents watched from afar, knowing you were finally with the one you liked all along.
#cam cameron x reader#cam cameron#the summer i turned pretty#fluff#angst with a happy ending#enemies to lovers#conrad fisher#david iacono#jeremiah fisher#steven conklin
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Birds of a Feather
Eustass Kid/Killer x F!Reader
Warnings: Slight gore, blood, angst, fluff, hanakai disease, long fic and tiredly edited
A/N: This took to long to write and to long to type but thank god it's over. Now i can put myself through more self induced torture <3
~~~
It hurts to even hear about him. Even hearing his name felt like cyanide bubbled in your lungs. The pain was something you’ve never experienced before or think you’ll experience again. If you survive first, that is.
It’s been six months since it started. You remember the day the first petal left your lips.
“Oi (Y/N)!” His voice calling your name had your heart skipping a beat. It was like an addictive melody you never wanted to stop. Looking in his direction, you see Kid walking towards you with a scowl on his face. You watched as he passed by the multiple incapacitated Marines that everyone had just finished fighting.
“Yes, Captain? How can I help you?” The way his amber eyes looked down on you had your toes curling in your shoes.
“You almost got Killer hurt 'cause you got your head in the fucking clouds! He had to save your dumbass 'cause you couldn’t see a marine charging straight in front of you, so he had to step in front of you!” Guilt ate you as you lowered your head and fiddled with your fingers. You didn’t mean to zone out; you just happened to look in Kid’s direction and saw him beating every Marine that crossed his path. He looked so beautiful. The way he carried himself and how his laughter rang made your heart do flips. To entranced with Kid, you didn’t see the marine charging at you. Thankfully, Killer did and came to your aid.
“I’m sorry. I just lost focus for a second. I promise it’ll never happen again.”
“Your right it won’t. Cause next time it does, I’m kicking you off the ship. I don’t need weak losers who can’t defend themselves on my crew.” Feeling yoru lip tremble, you try to control your breathing. The last thing you want is to cry in front of him.
“Understood.” With those final words, Kid turns and leaves you standing on the battlefield where tons of defeated Marines lie. As soon as Kid’s footsteps leave your hearing, is when you finally let the tears slip down your cheeks. An unbearable urge to cough erupted in your lungs from the lack of air you inhaled. With a harsh cough, you feel something unlodge from your throat.
Looking down, you see a petal slowly descend to the ground.
“What the?” Grabbing it gently, you study the petal. Trying to figure out if it was the thing that came from your throat.
“(Y/N)! Let’s go!”
“Coming!” Looking down at the petal, you drop it and run towards the Victoria Punk.
~~~
You stand along the railing of the ship as you look at the sunset. The beautiful sight only made a frown appear on your face as the memory of that day sours the scenery.
Remembering the memory more clearly, had another cough leaving your lips. It had tears brim your eyes at the sheer intensity of it. This time, it was the most painful cough yet. When you look down towards your arm, you feel your heart stop, and your eyes widen.
Small bits of blood covered your arms as three white petals laid against your skin. Specks of blood scattered across your skin, and spots littered the flower petals as well. You knew that the flower those petals came from was a white carnation.
Moving your hand to your lips, you gently rub your fingertips along your mouth. Looking down at your hands, you're met with horror, and time stop. A newfound fear made home in your head as you looked at the scene in front of you. The beautiful sunset was replaced by a painful surprise
~~~
Standing in front of your mirror; your eyes can only hound in on the gorgeous carnation that has seemingly bloomed on your cheek overnight. Instead of the gorgeous white petals, you coughed the day before, it was fully bloomed yellow carnation.
Your hand shakes as you reach up to touch the flower. It’s soft petals brushing against your fingers. Gently grabbing the eternity of the flower, you carefully try to pull it off. You hiss, realizing the pain that followed. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath before harshly ripping off the cursed flower.
“Fuck!” Grabbing your cheek, you see blood slip through your fingers. Looking around, you see a clean white tank top peaking out from your dresser. You quickly grab it and push it against your cheek. Considering the tank top was so thin, you needed to grab a bandage right away. Unfortunately, the infirmary was a bit away, and it was daytime; who knows who’d be out and about? What if someone saw you? All you could do was run as fast as you could and pray no one saw you.
Grabbing the door handle, you open it and close it as quickly as possible, making a dash for the infirmary. You run as fast as you can without drawing any attention to yourself. Yet just as you see the infirmary door, a familiar voice calls to you.
“(Y/N)? What are you running for?”
‘Shit, it’s Killer.’ You try to give him a quick answer, but the now bloody tank top catches Killer's eye.
“Holy shit (Y/N)! What the fucked happened?!”
“It’s nothing! No need to worry!”
“That cloth is basically drenched!” Killer walked towards you and finally managed to get a good look at you as he grabbed your arms.
“Let me see it.” You gulp before gently lowering the tank top. The small patch of missing skin finally gets air.
“What the hell happened?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it. So please, Killer, drop it. I promise I’m okay. I’m nothing you need to worry about.” Killer’s grip loosens as he looks at you.
“Fine. But I’m fixing it.” Knowing that you weren’t getting out of it any more than you did, you agreed and followed him to the infirmary. The awkward silence suffocating.
“Thank you. You don’t have to, but thank you.”
“It’s…no problem.”
~~~
Killer did a great job patching your wound. He was so careful and treated you like you were made of glass. It’s been forever since you’ve felt so much care.
Thankfully, you never coughed when you were near him. If he reacted like that about your cheek, how’d he react if he saw you cough up blood and a random flower petal? A freak-out would probably be the proper reaction. The only freakout that needed to happen was yours when more flowers bloomed on your skin. Many of them you’ve never seen before. The same happening with the petals you coughed up.
A week has gone by since then, and every flower petal you’ve coughed up and every flower you’ve picked from your skin you kept and put in a box under your bed. You wanted to identify them and possibly see if there was any meaning to any of them. They had to mean something, right?
To your luck, the Vicotria Punk was stopping at an island to get supplies. You could get off and hopefully find a florist or a book to tell you everything you need to know.
“Everyone get ready to dock!” Kid’s voice boomed across the ship, making you grab a mask quickly and the box of flowers you’ve kept hidden under your bed. It wasn’t even seconds after you left your room is when the heat started killing you. While it was your own fault due to the fact you had to cover up every ounce of skin just to make sure the flowers stayed hidden, it was miserable. The flowers that corrupted your body tortured you in more ways than one.
Despite the dreaded heat, you quickly run off the ship, box in hand, and make your way to town, only to be stopped by a strong arm grabbing your shoulder. Turning your head, you feel your cheek heat up, seeing Kid looking at you.
“Where the hell are you going dressed like that?” You didn’t want to lie to him, but he was the last person you wanted to know about your struggles.
“Just disguising myself so I can go into town and grab some things without having the Marines be called.” Smiling up at him through your mask, you can feel your palms start to sweat as you hope it is enough for him.
“And the box?”
“Clothes that I’m gonna get rid of.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you try to hide your nervousness.
“Alright. Grab me a screwdriver. Lost mine.” Kid let go of your shoulder and started to turn around.
“Yes, Captain!” Turning back to town, you begin your journey once more.
The sun beats down against you as you look desperately for a florist or bookstore. The town was smaller than you originally thought, and it made you fear that neither would be available. What would happen if you couldn’t find it? What would happen to you?
“Oof!” While your mind ran wild, you missed the small old lady who had come out in front of you. Falling backward, you drop your box of flowers, causing them to pour out. The bloody flowers and petals out on display.
“I’m so sorry miss! Please forgive me!” Looking up, you see the little old lady smiling at you before looking at you flowers.
“What are those dear?” Seeing your flowers scattered about, you immediately tried to hide them all up back in the box.
“O-Oh! Nothing! Just some arts and crafts!” You let out a nervous chuckle, hoping she couldn’t see past your lie. But the way she looked at you up and down let you know that she didn’t believe you for a second.
“It’s hot outside; why are you wearing something that could give you heat stroke?”
“I just get sunburnt easily! No one likes that, right?” Before you could say another word, the old lady’s face turned serious.
“Come with me. I know.” Before you can utter another word, she grabs your hand and starts dragging you out of the public eye. You thankfully managed you grab your box before she started dragging you into an alley. It was clutched tightly in your hands as you followed the old woman to wherever she was taking you. Simply looking at her, you didn’t deem her a threat, so you just let her drag you.
A small shack behind the bigger buildings comes in sight. The lady drags you harder as you try to figure out what’s going on.
“Hey, uh, where are you taking me?”
“Must talk in private. Your in danger girl.” Her words made unease rise in your gut as you allow her to drag into the small shack. Made from wood, you see tons of trinkets and what some would describe as a ‘witches cabin’.
“Sit girl.” The woman sits you down before standing in front of you. She looks you up and down before grabbing a book from her bookshelf and sitting in front of you.
“Who are you? Why did you drag me here? Where exactly is here?” Question spiraled in your mind as the lady grabs your box and opens it without a heads up.
“Hey! What do you think your-”
“Worse then I thought.” Her words cause a bead of sweat to run down your forehead. Putting the box down, she grabs your hand and holds it with both of her own.
“Your in danger girl.”
“Danger? What are you talking about?”
“You carry a disease that only victims of one-sided love can obtain. Your attire and the box of bloody flowers tells everything.”
“What?! That’s impossible, no way!” You try to rip your hand from hers but her grip was stronger then you could have ever thought.
“The flowers that adorn your skin only bloom on those with an unattainable love. Your mask covers up the petals you cough up does it not?” Her words cause your heart to stop as you look at her with wide eyes. How could she know something like that? You’ve only met this woman today and she’s already telling you things that only you knew.
“How did you-”
“I too once suffered the disease you carry. I know when someones infected when i see it.” Words seem to get stuck in your throat as you racked your brain on how she could possibly know that your in such a position.
“Who is the person you love?” Stuttering, you finally managed speak.
“My Captain. I’m in love with my Captain. Now tell me this disease you claim I have.” A sigh leaves the lady lips as she grabs the book she put next to her. The sound of pages turning had your heart berating faster then you’d care to admit.
You jump when she slams the book down and points to a page. Leaning down you begin to read what it said.
“Hanaikai disease? Sounds fake.”
“Keep reading!”
“Okay! Okay!” Not wanting to anger her, you continue to read.
Hanaikai Disease is a supposedly fictional disease that affects the victims of one-sided love. While said to be fictional, there are cases in recent history where people have claimed to suffer from it. It’s said to be extremely painful the longer it stays inside its host.
Symptoms always start the same. The victim begins to cough up flower petals of the flower that represent how the victim feels about the love they feel for the one they adore.
It’ll continue until flowers start blooming through the skin. Taking off said flowers is extremely painful and highly advised not to do. It causes the flowers to bloom more aggressively and become more painful to remove. During this stage, the victim will cough up blood along with the petals. This is a sign that the disease has finally fully affected the lungs. It’ll get more difficult to breathe.
Next, it’ll drain your energy quickly. Leaving you looking sickly and in even more pain as the disease starts to affect the organs outside the lungs. The victim will be coughing more than before, and what seems like green veins will cover the victim's body. Flowers soon start to cover the rest of the skin on the arms and legs.
Once it’s gotten to this point, the chances of survival are close to none. The disease has taken over the victim's body to the point all one can do is watch as the disease slowly corrupts the body.
The victim will slowly lose their ability to breathe before taking their last breath. What happens to the body after death is unknown. Many death records that were supposedly based on this disease have either been lost or destroyed.
Your mouth was agape reading the horrible words inked on the page. The book tells you things you’ve experienced and what you have yet to endure. How could something so terrifying be so real? No, it couldn’t be real!
‘There is no way in hell this could be real! This has to be a fucked up dream!’ The old lady rubs her thumb along your hand.
“My dear, you need to let him go. He will be the death of you.”
“But-” Looking down at the book once more, you see what’s the only cure for the hell you’ve been contaminated with.
The only known cure for this disease is when the victim's love interest ends up loving them back or the victim loses feelings for the one they loved.
“Lose feelings? How can I do that?” The little old lady closes the book and places it next to her before getting up and moving to grab another book from the bookshelf. She then makes her way to you and trades your box for the book.
“Hey! I need those!”
“Old flowers won’t help. New flowers are the ones you need to worry about.” The lady motions you to sit up and you do so without a word. It's not like you could form words anyway after knowing what you have to do if you want to survive.
“It’s time for you to go. A pirate never stays in one place for long.” Pushing you out the door, the old lady says nothing more before slamming the door behind you.
It all happened so fast that it felt like your head was spinning. Being told that a disease you’ve never heard before was gonna kill you? How could someone respond to that? And then get kicked out before all your questions could be answered? While a million questions still ran through your head, all you could do was stand and look around to try and process what you’ve been told.
~~~
Making your way back to the Victoria, you couldn’t help but feel how heavy your heart had become. Having been told that the man whom you’ve dedicated everything to was going to be the death of you? That the only way to live through the raging disease was to just get over him or have him love you back? Both of those options seemed impossible. Why couldn’t the universe just let you be?
The Kid Pirates were all you had. You had no family or life to get back to. The thought of leaving was out of the question. There had to be something else.
“(Y/N)! There you are!” Kid’s voice rang through your ears, making you snap out of your thoughts. Looking up, you see him stumbling over to you. The closer he got, the more the overwhelming smell of sake became.
“Captain! I got your screwdriver! The best one they had!” Even though it was the most expensive one, it was easy to steal. But then again, you’d steal a warlord's treasure if he asked you-
A harsh cough started to leave your lungs. You could feel the ragged petals leave your throat before getting caught in the mask you wore.
“Ah, just what I was looking for.” Kid completely ignored the horrific cough, much to your delight. You were happy that he didn’t notice and that you picked out the perfect one. It was like your body was on fire when you felt him ruffle your hair.
“Such a good girl.” His laughter had your heart doing flips. The way he spoke made your legs feel weak. Even though he was drunk, you’d take his praise anytime.
“Let’s go. We don’t wanna miss our ride, do we?” Without another word, your lifted off the ground and thrown over Kid’s shoulder. If you could explode in happiness right now, you would. He’s so close. He’s holding you and carrying you in the Victoria Punk. It has to mean something! He’s never done this before! Could this be a sign that he likes you too? Maybe it could possibly stop the disease from spreading?
~~~
The rest of the night was filled with laughter and booze. Kid was so close to you the entire night! Anytime he touched you, it felt like an electric shock shooting through your skin. It was welcomed as you couldn’t help but feel your heart gush. The pain of the disease lessened when he touched you, and combined with the amount of alcohol you’ve ingested, you practically forgot about it last night.
It especially slipped your mind when he kissed you.
You and Kid were walking toward your room, and when you got there, you went to say goodnight to Kid, only for him to pull you close and slam his lips to yours. Your mind filled with colors as the taste of sake filled your mouth when he slid his tongue passed your lips. Digging your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer, wanting to feel all of him pressed against you. Kissing him felt like a dream come true. No amount of imagination compared to how soft Kid’s lips truly were.
It felt like you were kissing him for an eternity before he pulled away. Saliva connected the two of you as you pant, trying to regain air. Your heart beats rapidly as you look at Kid’s lips. His beautiful red lipstick smudged. Every bone in your body yelled at you to kiss him again. Telling you that he was right in front of you.
“Kid! Where you at?” Killer’s voice echoed in the hallway, causing you both to split quickly.
“Ah, shame. Just as we were having fun. Well, see you later, princess.” He ruffled your hair again as he drunkenly stumbled towards Killer’s voice. Kid’s words echoed in your head like an addictive song. If Killer didn’t call him, what would’ve happened?
All you could do was dream.
~~~
A knocking on your door woke you up from your drunken slumber. The intensity of the knock gave you teh impression it was your red headed captain.
The same Captain you kissed last night.
Your eyes shot open at the realization of him being right outside your room. It’s only been a few hours and now you had to face him. A sober him. Jumping out of bed, you start finding any sort of pajamas that made you look as cute as possible. Once struggling to get the clothing on, you rush to the door and open it.
“Oh hey, captain. How can I uh-help you?” Even trying to keep you cool, you can feel your face burning. The look that Kid gives you made your heart beat against your ribs. What could he be thinking about behind those amber eyes?
“Hey. About what happened last night-”
“Oh! Yeah, I-”
“Forget it.”
“Huh?”
“Forget that ever happened. It was an accident, and we were both drunk.” Hearing his words had your blood turn cold and your heart stop. Trying to hide what you felt inside, you put on a tough face.
“Yeah, haha. I was super drunk. Surprised I'm even able to walk.” Trying to hide your cracking voice, you were thankful that the mask hid your trembling lip.
“Good. See you around.” Without another word, Kid turned his back and walked down the hallway. You closed your door, and as soon as you did, the painful sensation of needles pricking your lungs started to reemerge. Struggling to stay on your feet, you fall to your hands and knees as you try to breathe. Ripping off your mask, you can hear yourself heaving. A stabbing pain hit your back as you let out the worst cough you’ve ever done so far. It left tears in your eyes as you coughed hard enough to see more blood than petals.
You felt like a fool. Why did you think that he liked you? It was a drunk mistake. Why couldn’t you see how stupid you were? He’d never shown any interest in you before, so why did you think he liked you after a single kiss?
Tears continued to slip down your cheeks, but the sound of harsh coughing had your mind freezing. It sounded exactly like yours.
But it wasn’t.
You still could barely breathe, but how can a cough sound so similar? It sounds exactly like yours. Just as pained as yours.
Getting up, your struggle trying to stay on yoru feet. Catching yourself in the mirror, you see another flower having appeared right above your heart. It wasn’t there when you put the shirt on; did it bloom when you weren’t looking? You didn’t even feel it!
Swearing under your breath, you grab another turtleneck-like shirt and keep on the long pajama pants. The more skin and flowers hidden, the better.
Leaving your room, the harsh coughing only continued and it added unease in your gut. It sounded exactly like yours when you were in yoru room, but the closer you got, you could hear the deeper tone to it. It sounded close by, so it couldn’t be far.
You follow the noise towards the infirmary. Stopping by the door, you place your ear against it. Your eyes widen hearing the voice behind the coughing. Especially what the voice said.
“Dumb flowers. What the fuck are you?” Biting your lip, you open the door quietly and peek inside. The man you never thought you’d be sharing your struggles with was right in front of you. Bloody flowers surrounded a familiar blue and white striped mask.
“Killer?” Your voice gentle as you enter the room before closing the door.
“Shit (Y/N)!” He quickly put on his mask and turned towards you, Hiding his arm behind his back.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“It’s fine.” The silence was agonizing before Killer spoke up.
“I should go. I uh have to grab something.” Before he can walk out, you stand in front of him and place your hands on his chest.
“You need to see something. It’s important."
“Sorry, but I really have to-”
“I have it too.” Another dreadful silence fills the air as Killer steps back.
“What?” Pulling down the collar of your shirt. A SIngel carnation lying on your collarbone comes into Killer’s view.
“The day you helped stitch my face? It was caused by me pulling off a flower. The reason I’m wearing a mask? To hide the flower petals that leave my mouth when I cough.” Feeling another cough coming on, you pull down your mask and cough into your elbow. Petalserupt from your throat and making tears rim yoru eyes. Once finished, you show your arm to Killer. His speechless reaction made you worry as you threw away the petals and wiped off blood splatter on your skin.
“Do you…know what it is?” Sitting down on the infirmary bed, you pat the spot next to you. Killer seemed to think for a second before sitting down hesitantly and looking at you through his mask.
“It’s kinda hard to explain and understand, so I’ll go slow. Cause even after knowing, I’m still struggling to believe it.” Taking a deep breath, you start to tell him everything the old lady shared with you.
~~~
It was silent in the infirmary after you explained the situation to Killer. You couldn’t blame him if he didn’t believe you. Hell, you still didn’t want to believe it yourself. How could you question the old lady who told you? You’ve never met her before, and she somehow knew that you were suffering simply by looking at you.
“If you're fucking with me (Y/N), I’m going to kill you.”
“I’m obviously suffering with it too! Why would I lie to you?” Just then, Killer let out a harsh cough, and you can see a small droplet of blood fly out from one of the many holes in his mask.
“Hey! Are you okay, Killer?” You place your hand on his shoulder, and his cough only gets worse.
“Shit, I’ll go get you some water!” Running to the kitchen, you throw open the cabinets to grab a glass. You can feel your heart beat rapidly against your ribs as you desperately fill up the glass of water. Once filled, you make your way back to the infirmary. Killer’s cough no longer echoed in the hallway.
“Okay, I got your water-Heyyy, Captain.” To your dismay, you see Kid once again. This time, standing in front of Killer with his arms crossed. His scowl has your palms sweating. You quickly give Killer his water before trying to escape the uncomfortable situation you were subjected to.
“Sit your ass down.” Mouthing a silent ‘fuck’, you turn around and sit on the bed next to Killer once again.
“Care to tell me why the both of you have been acting so fucking weird these past few weeks?” Killer stayed silent, as did you. How were you supposed to explain a disease to a man who didn’t have it? Explain to the man that’s the reason for your suffering through this. Not to mention how it’s supposed to be fictional.
“Fucking spill it.”
"It's hard to explain."
“I don’t care. Tell me why you two are acting so differently, damnit!”
“We both got sick. We’re just helping one another since we got the same thing.”
“Is it contagious?”
“No.”
“Then there's no reason to be distant dipshits.” You sigh and rub your ace. This wasn’t going well at all. Kid’s tone was all you needed to know how close he was to blowing up. You move to whisper in Killer's ear, and you see Kid’s eyes narrow.
“Should I show him the flower on my collarbone? I don’t want to make you take off your mask.”
“That’s a good idea, yeah. Thank you.”
“What the fuck are you two whispering about?” Grabbing your shirt, you pull down the fabric just enough for the flower to be visible. With a nervous voice, you start to explain.
“It’s called Hanakai Disease. Its symptoms include coughing up flower petals and having fully bloomed flowers appearing on your skin as well. The flowers eat away at your body until your nothing but flowers yourself. It’s caused by one-sided lov-”
“You really expect me to believe that shit?! Flowers?! Do I look like a fucking idiot?!” Panic started setting in as you saw the anger swirling in Kid’s eyes.
“I’m telling the truth! I’d never lie to you! Killer, tell him!” Instead of backing you up, Killer stays silent.
“Killer!” Yet no words left his mask. Shocked and having your own anger flooded through your veins at Killer’s silence.
“Are you fucking serious? Help him believe us! Show him or tell him we aren’t lying!” The room was silent again, and you saw Kid’s face getting red with anger. Obviously, Killer wasn’t gonna help Kid understand, so you’d made up your mind to just walk away. You didn’t want to deal with Kid’s rage.
“Why did I even bother telling you? I knew you wouldn’t believe me. No fucking thanks to you, Killer. Fucking asshole.” Opening the infirmary door, you leave the two men while slamming teh door behind you. You can feel tears start to slip down your cheeks as Killer's silence has your heart burning. Just as you thought you weren’t alone, life came back to kick you in the ass.
The suffocating urge to cough soon became too much to bear as you leaned against a wall and started coughing. It felt as if there was a whole frog in your throat from the sheer intensity of your coughs. It made your legs feel weak as you struggled to stay standing. You even take off your mask to hopefully try to get more air to breathe.
Finally, whatever was lodged in your throat managed to fly past your lips with one last harsh cough. A silent thump was felt against your skin as you started to rub your eyes to get rid of the tears. Your blurry vision soon turns normal as you try to find the source of your painful cough. When your eye catches something on the ground, you feel time stop. Instead of what should have been a few measly petals, was replaced by a fully intact yellow carnation. There was a small blood splatter from where the bloodied flower hit the floor. With shaky hands, you grab the flower, looking at it in horror.
Turning your head around to see if anyone saw what happened, you start running as fast as you can to your room.
The book the lady gave you was a flower guide. It told you all teh meanings of the flowers you’ve coughed up. Along with a handwritten note on the stages of the disease. It was almost as if she’d been saving it for another poor soul suffering from the same fate.
~~~
“Hey (Y/N)! Breakfast is ready!” Heat’s voice breaks through your slumber as the morning sun shines against your face. When you open your eyes, you see multiple flowers lying in front of your face. Dried blood covering teh bed sheets and flowers. You must have been coughing them up while you were asleep.
A frown plasters on your face looking at the flowers. Your day already ruined before lunch.
With a deep breathe, you start to move your body out of bed. Yet as soon as you go to stand up, your legs immediately give out under you, causing you to fall to the cold floor.
“You good?”
“I’m fine! Just dropped my book!”
“Alright. Well Killer made pancakes so hurry up before Kid hogs them all!” A sour taste fills your mouth hearing the two mens names. Killer’s lack of back up and Kid’s outburst burned your already bleeding heart. Seeing their faces right now wouldn’t be the best decision for you.
Managing to crawl upon the bed, you feel your body grow cold seeing 2x the amount of flowers you had on you yesterday. That and the small green lines that veined down yoru legs. Words seemed to die in your throat as you look at your arms, worried the same fate had already happened to them. Thankfully though, they were the same as when you went to sleep. Still, you couldn’t go out with your legs in this condition.
“I’m not hungry but thank you for letting me know!” No way you could go out. Especially when you can stand on your own two feet.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah! Just not feeling the best! Do you think you could grab me some bandages? I have to change mine from last night after an accident!”
“Uh okay? Sure you didn’t fall?”
“Yep! Positive!”
“Okay I’ll believe you. Be right back!”
“Thank you Heat!” You can hear his footsteps leave and only then did you relax. Looking down at your legs, a wave of anger hit you as you stare at the beautiful flowers laying against your skin.
It wasn’t fair. How come it had to happen to you? Why was the world so cruel to taunt you with your unrequited love by having it be the thing that kills you? The flowers littering your skin gave you cruel reminders that no matter how hard you tried to ignore the painful burning of your lungs, it was useless. The worst thing about it was all you had to do is let the man you love go. But how were you suppose to do that? Even thinking about him has a cough bubbling in your throat.
It was so stupid to fall in love with the red-headed brute in the first place. He wouldn’t love you back anyways. His goal is his top priority, and who were you to take that away from him? Plus, even if you were to confess and he rejected you, you fear you’d never be able to stop loving him. A cruel fate is what your life was given to.
You roughly grab one of the flowers and crush it in your hand before ripping it away from your skin. The sickening sound of ripping skin rand across yoru room but you didn’t care. The pain you felt in your heart outweighed the pain of the flowers. Grabbing another one, you begin to rip off all the flowers adorning your legs. Missing patches of flesh appeared each time you ripped off a flower. Blood started leaking from the wounds, yet you paid no mind. Why should you? It’s not like they won’t just regrow. Nothing stitches or bandages can’t fix.
You could feel your body getting weaker simply looking at teh green veins that adorned your skin. Knowing it had gotten to this stage scared teh shit out of you but what could you do? Kid probably hated you now. God why did this stupid disease have ot be so ridiculous?
KNOCK KNOCK
‘Must be Heat.’ With a deep breath, you get up on shaky legs, putting all your weight as you use the bed to move towards the door. You can feel blood dribble down your legs and onto the wooden floor. Grabbing the doorknob and putting all the strength you had to keep yourself propped up, you open the door while hiding your bloodied legs behind it. To your dismay, instead of Heat bringing you the bandages, it was the man you wanted to avoid.
“Hey. Heat was busy, so I brought them.” Staying silent, you look at him with a visible frown.
“I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. I was just too shocked to believe it. I didn’t want to believe it, so I tried to ignore the reality.”
“You could have at least shown a flower on your arm or something! But no! Now he thinks I’m a liar, and you know he hates those!”
“I know, and I’m sorry. Kid’s calmed down now, but I didn’t fully tell him all of it after you left. He shouldn’t think your lying anymore, okay? So come eat, you look sick.”
“I’m fine now, just give me the bandages and go away-” Before you had teh chance to cover your mouth, you harshly cough up another flower. It lands by Killer's feet, causing the man's eyes to widen behind his mask. Turning back up to you, he sees your still coughing and how your struggling to stay up. Your legs stumbled out from behind the door, and he saw your blood-covered legs. Thankfully, he managed to catch you before you lost your footing.
“Jesus christ (Y/N)!” Not bothering to close your door, Killer runs to the infirmary. He can feel your blood stain his hands as small parts of his shirt soak up the blood as he carries you bridal style.
Bursting open the door, he places you on the empty bed before rushing to grab a needle and thread. If he didn’t close all the small wounds, you’d surely get an infection. Not to mention how long they’ve been open. Once he made it back to your side, he finally noticed what else was covering your legs.
“Shit. Those must be those vine things they were telling me about.” Killer quickly gets to work, not wasting another second. If anything were to happen to you, Killer wouldn’t be able to ever forgive himself.
~~~
You didn’t know when, but at some point, you must have passed out. The last thing you vividly remembered was coughing up that flower in front of Killer. Everything after that was a blur.
Opening your eyes, you notice yourself lying in the dark infirmary. Trying to even breathe felt like pins and needles were stabbing your lungs. You try to sit up, but it feels as if all the strength in your body simply vanished.
“Your awake.” Turning your head to the side, you see Killer sitting next to you. His baby blue shirt is the only visible thing.
“Killer?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry for getting so mad. If I was you, it’d probably have done the same thing.”
“No. I should have had your side. Especially going against Kid.” Silence fell over the two of you.
“What time is it?”
“Midnight.”
“How long have you been sitting there?”
“All day.” Your eyes widen at his confusion.
“You’ve been waiting right beside me all day to wake up?”
“...yeah.” His words made your face burn, and heart skip a beat. He didn’t leave your side at all?
“Why? Wouldn’t Kid be upset?”
“He didn’t know. Was cramped up in his workshop all day.” Your heart only beat faster the longer you listened.
“I see. Well, what’s your plan now that I’m awake?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t think that far ahead, I suppose.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you think to yourself. In all honesty, his company was greatly appreciated.
“I don’t mind if you stay here… the bed is big enough for you if I scoot closer to the wall.” It wouldn’t be the first time you had to share a bed with Killer. One time when the Victoria Punk docked on an island for repairs, the crew slept in a hotel. Everyone was arguing about roommates, so Killer managed to make numbers and put them in a stolen hat, telling people to take a number. You and Killer got the same number, so you two were bunkmates until the Victoria was repaired. Then again, that was when he wore his black and white polka-dotted shirt. It’s been so long since then.
“I could crush you. Plus, your sick.”
“A sickness you have. So lay down on the bed…I don’t wanna be alone.” Killer was thankful you couldn’t see his face, if you could, you would’ve seen how his cheeks turned red. While he’s slept in the same bed as you before, this was obviously very different. But when would he get this chance to be so close to you again?
“Okay.” Taking his boots off, Killer slides under the covers. He can feel the flowers that adorned his own skin being moved around as he starts to get comfortable.
“Thank you for fixing me up, Killer. It means a lot.” Even though you try to give him as much space as possible, Killer still could practically feel your body against his.
“Goodnight, Killer.”
“Goodnight (Y/N).” Closing both of your eyes, neither of you notices the two flowers that fell off Killer's arms or how the burning pain in your lungs suddenly vanished. Leaving you able to enjoy Killer’s scent being right next to you.
~~~
Waking up, you see Killer gone from your side. A plate of (favorite breakfast) replaced him on the chair. A small giggle escapes your lips, seeing your favorite breakfast. Still the perfect temp.
Taking a few breaths, you get ready to try and sit up. If today was anything like yesterday, then certainly be a task made for the gods. Yet as soon as you lift yourself up, your shocked to feel yourself sit up with ease. Just yesterday, you could barely breathe and stay on your feet. What did Killer do that gave you the strength to sit up and the ability to breathe properly?
Whatever it was, you’ll have to thank him again later.
KNOCK KNOCK
“Hello? Come in?” You quickly cover yoru body in case the person behind the door wasn’t Killer. To your shock, a familar patch of bright red hair comes into view.
“Captain?” All you heard was a grumble before he closed the door behind him. He crossed his arms and looked away from yoru face, you could see something in his hand.
“Killer told me he forgot to give you a utensil to eat, so here.” Handing you a (...), you gently grab it, your fingertips brushing against his own. His skin rough from working in his shop.
“Thanks, Captain. That’s very nice of you.” While he still refused to look at you, you gave him a smile.
“Killer explained your situation yesterday, so forget about what happened.” Kid’s way of saying sorry was odd, but you’ll take it.
“Ah, I see.” A silence filled the infirmary before Kid spoke.
“Who is it?”
“What?”
“Who’s the person you love?” His eyes stared into yours, and you could feel your face burn at his straightforward question. How were you supposed to tell him that he’s the only one always on your mind? At least, you think he is.
“Oh! W-Well, does that really matter? I can get over it! There's no need to worry about me, Captain! You just focus on being King of the Pirates!” Rambling on, you didn’t notice the way Kid’s body tensed, and his face burned red when you spoke your last words.
“What I would love is for you to achieve your dream, alright? I’m nobody to worry about. Focus on your own happiness.” Hearing your own words made you bite the inside of your cheek. While you didn’t outright say it, you felt like you said it to him. There was something holding you back from saying those words.
No. Not something. Someone.
“I see. I gotta go. There’s a project I need to finish.” With that, Kid left in a hurry. Leaving you no time to respond.
“Bye?” With you being left alone once more, you finally grab your breakfast and begin to dig into it. A smile fell across your lupus as a giddiness filled your body, thinking of the kindness Killer showed you.
~~~
It was a calm day on the Victoria Punk. The sun shone brightly down on the crew as they all did their own things. You were currently lying on a blanket on the deck, soaking up the sun. If you were to tell yourself two weeks ago that you were wearing a short-sleeved shirt, you’d never believe it. Yet here you were.
Five days ago, all the flowers that once resided on your arms fell off. You saw one fall off before your eyes even. When you woke up, instead of huge bloodied flowers in front of you, only small petals took their place. While there were still flowers on your legs, the green ‘vines’ were gone and your strength was back in full. Whatever Killer did that day two weeks ago you’ll never be able to thank him enough.
Now here you are, sitting in the sun and breathing in teh fresh salty air. You don’t know what’s causing the symptoms to go away, but you didn’t dare question it. Why question a good thing?
“Enjoying the sun?” Looking to your side, you see Killer standing above you.
“Very much. What ya doing?”
“Just finished running errands for Kid and doing first mate duties.” Your heart seemed to speed up as you continue talking to the mask man.
“So your free now?”
“I should be.”
“Well, do you wanna hang out with me and enjoy the sun?” Hiding your hands behind your head, you crossed your fingers that he’d say yes.
“I smell like sweat from running around so.”
“I can wash the blanket. When’s the next time you’d get to relax? Plus, I don’t invite just anyone to lay next to me and enjoy the sun.” You see Killer looking down as if trying to think.
“Please? Pretty please?” A sigh leaves the man before sitting down and lying down next to you. About a foot of space between the two of you. Killer’s scent invaded your senses, making a sigh of contentment leave your lips.
“Liar. You don’t smell like sweat. What were you trying to ditch me?” You gently elbow the huge man with a soft laugh.
"Maybe." An offended gasp leaves you, making Killer laugh.
“I’m kidding. Just didn’t want to take any chances.” Turning to your side, you look at Killer. You couldn’t help but study the small scars along his arms. Or how his hair looked so soft, lying along the blanket. The sight made your face burn and your heart beat in your ears.
“Your staring.” Despite your urge to look away in embarrassment, you try to play it cool.
“Am I not allowed to look at a piece of art?” It was something you’d never say to anyone. Something you haven’t said to anyone.
Killer’s eyes widened behind his mask as he felt his heart quicken. Hearing such words coming from you made his cheeks burn and his heart skip a beat. He looked in your eyes to see if you were joking, but all he could see was sincerity.
“Stop it. You're just saying that.” Hearing him deny your words, you decide to up your game. After everything Killer’s done for you, he deserves to be praised.
“Would you prefer ‘pretty boy’ instead?” Killer snapped his head towards you before gently smacking your arm.
“Oh my god (Y/N), shut up.” A smirk rose on your lips.
“Pretty boy! Pretty boy! Killer’s a pretty boy!” Sitting up, Killer grabbed you and covered your mouth.
“I swear to god if you don’t shut up, I’m going to throw you overboard!”
“Pretty boy!” You yell while giggling. While your words were muffled, you knew Killer could still hear them.
“That’s it.” Hetting up, Killer wraps his arms around you and starts walking towards the railing.
“Killer, I swear to god!” Even though you wiggle desperately, it did nothing to losen his grip. The closer you got to the railing, the more you panicked.
“Tell me how cold the water is.” Even though he wasn’t laughing, you could hear the telltale sign of muffled down laughter that he desperately tried to keep in.
“No!”
“What’s going on here?” Both of you turn your heads and see Kid standing and watching with his arms crossed once again. Killer dropped you in shock, leaving you to make a thud against the floor. Looking up at Kid, you feel embarrassment run through you the way he refused to look at you. Why he refused to look at you had you questioning if he had a grudge over you that you weren’t aware of. Whatever it was, it left you feeling small. Making you scoot closer to Killer’s leg.
~~~
You couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Killer lying next to you. All you could think about was him. How he smelled, how his skin felt against yours. The way even the smallest words left his lips had your heart beating faster than you ever thought possible.
Remembering the way he took care of you in your worst moments made you smile. No one’s ever done that before. The memory of him lying next to you on the infirmary bed made your feet kick under the covers. You’ve never slept so good then lying next to him.
There had to be something that you could do to repay him. But what? Scanning your head for anything, you remember how he loved pasta. That was something, but you wanted to give him something that could last longer than 10 minutes. Throwing your hand to the side to grab your glass of water, your shocked when you feel your hand touching a velvet-type surface. Turning your head, you see the flower guide the old lady gave you.
Just then an idea came to you, making you sit up and turn on the lantern light on your nightstand. Opening the book, you begin to search for the perfect flower.
~~~
You wouldn’t leave his mind no matter how hard he tried to focus. Every time he tried to sharpen his blades, all he could see was you. Even the sharp screaming of his blade didn’t pierce the sound of your voice in his head. Your laughter and how sweet your voice sounded when you complimented him felt like a melody he couldn’t ignore.
He also couldn’t ignore how the flowers adorning his skin had now fallen off. All that was left was a small cough every now and then, and even now, the cough was no longer painful. It felt like he could breathe better now. When he thought about it, it only survived to confuse him. The way he felt about you only grew with each passing moment he spent next to you.
Shouldn’t it be getting worse?
His heart only beat faster when he saw you, and his dreams of you only continued every time he closed his eyes. Dreams of you laying next to him at night with his arms wrapped around you. Where you’d kiss his helmet while telling him how much you adored him. Yet those were just dreams. All they’d ever be.
“Killer?” A small tap on his shoulder made him turn around. Your voice quiet enough to barely be heard. When he fully turned around to look at you, he was surprised by a big bouquet of flowers in your hand.
“These are for you.” You shoved the flowers to his chest before looking away from him. Looking down at the flowers, it felt as if time stopped seeing 12 blue roses looking back at him. His voice caught in his throat as he couldn’t stop the rapid beating of his heart.
“I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You didn’t have to yet you did, and for that, I’ll forever be grateful. And thanks to you…I survived a disease that should have killed me. All the flowers on my body have fallen off, and I haven’t coughed in so long. Last night I wanted to give you a gift, and it’s then that I realized why I’m better.” A shaky breath left your lips as Killer stood before you shocked.
“It’s you. The reason I can breathe and live is you. I…I love you Killer.” Before you could spill out more of your heart, Killer pulled you to his chest. His arms wrapping around you tightly and laid his head on your own. You can hear his heart beat echo in yoru ears.
“I love you too.” An overwhelming burst of happiness filled your being hearing those words. Looking up at him, you grab his mask and place kisses everywhere you could reach. Just then, Killer stopped you.
“Huh?” You see him carefully push up his mask to where only his lips are visible. Before you could say a word, Killer placed his lips against your own. They were softer than anything you’ve ever felt.
And finally, after months of suffering, you can finally breathe in Killer's arms, and he can breathe in yours.
~~~
Sitting in his workshop, a burning pain in Kid’s lungs caused him to pause his project and grip his chest. He’s never felt such a strong cough coming on before in his life. When it finally felt okay to breathe again, Kid’s gaze caught something lying next to his arm. Carefully grabbing it with his metal hand, he brings it closer to his face.
In his hand, the petal of a flower stared right back at him.
#one piece x reader#eustass kid x reader#killer x reader#massacre soldier killer x reader#eustass captain kid x reader
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Cat Cam- W.JH
Pairings: camboy! Jun x gn! reader (kinda)
Genre: just pure smut ngl
Warnings: mild pet play, male masturbation, indirect mentions of other members, cum eating, use of petnames (prettyboy, baby, babyboy, kitten) reader's username is princesspeach so jun calls them princess at one point. tbh this is just jun jerking off..idk what else to add
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: Okay so, I meant to post this a while ago, but a lot was going on in my personal life. Sorry that it's so short...and I didn't edit it that much, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Feedback is always appreciated, please don't be a silent reader!
"Oh! There's a package from sweet_tangerines. Thank you very much! The last item you sent ended up being my most viewed clip when I used it, so I have a good feeling about this one," Jun said as he waved the box to the camera.
Jun winks into the camera, causing an influx of horny messages to scroll by on his screen, and the tips he made sure to thank as he opened up the package set in his lap.
Truthfully this was what he loved most about his job, the attention. How he could do anything, and his viewers would eat it up graciously, leaving messages that made his ego (and something else) swell.
At first, it meant to be a side hustle, a way to dig him out of the student debt and bills he was suffocating in. His paychecks sure as hell weren't cutting it, and he needed an answer to his problems fast.
Really fast.
Luckily for Jun, his prayers were answered one fateful night while browsing his favorite pornsite, cock in hand. Yeah, he was struggling, but everyone deserves to make themselves feel good. And if he was paying for his phone not to get shut off, he might as well make good use of the wonders of the internet.
Usually skipping over the ads, he couldn't help but hover his finger over the button, tilting his head as a light bulb went off in his head as he watched a girl in the ad promote a cam website.
Jun never considered himself egotistical, but he was far from blind to his attractiveness. He had a handsome face, a body he worked hard for despite taking up extra shifts at his job, and a pretty cock, in his opinion. Who wouldn't want to watch him jerk off? He could do that for a few months, and all his problems would be solved.
And so he did, making an account and gaining traction pretty quickly due to his looks and how much he interacted with the audience.
A year later, he was still going live for his viewers, not just for the money, but because jerking off without thousands of eyes on him didn't do it for him anymore. He needs the attention to cum; the times he tried without left him only more sexually frustrated than before he began.
Another perk of the job was undoubtedly the gifts he received over the year, but with the package in his lap now opened, he was starting to question his audience's sanity.
Jun typically refrained from kink shaming, but a pair of cat ears? Really?
"Sweet_tangerines, I'm not sure what you expect me to do with this, but I'll put it on just for you," Jun shyly smiled into the camera before going off-screen, causing his viewers to start guessing what the item could be.
sweet_tangerines: he's gonna look so CUTE!!
dinonono: is it a thong? I'm betting on a thong
gyubear97: I don't know what it is but I want it to be a thong 💓
princesspeach: whatever it is, I know our baby boy will look so sexy
princesspeach tipped 500 coins!
Jun hears his tips go off from the corner of his room as he adjusts the cat eats on his head. A blush washed over him at the sound signifying a big tip, knowing exactly who it was.
His favorite reoccurring viewer was going to watch him pleasure himself dressed up in cat ears…
Jun took one last look in the mirror before making his way back to his desk, his head out of frame due to his height and hiding the surprise from everyone. Once he plopped down onto his chair, he was sure his computer was ready to crash with how fast the chat was moving.
His shyness slowly faded as he tried to keep up with the messages as much as possible.
"I see that you guys like the cat ears. We should all thank sweet_tangerines for this generous gift," his deep voice rang out to his audience, almost as if he was teasing them for enjoying this so much.
But truthfully, he was enjoying it just as much.
Maybe not the cat ears specifically, but all the attention he was receiving because of it sure had an effect, his cock straining against his jeans, a visible tent forming, which people quickly took note of.
princesspeach: the kitty is getting hard already. you haven't even touched yourself. you should show us, pretty boy.
Jun bit his lip as he caught your message in the sea of others, making eye contact with the camera knowing you were paying full attention to him.
His hand mindlessly starts rubbing his thigh, inching further up until he palms himself, squeezing the sides of his shaft through his jeans and giving some relief. His head tilts back in his chair, eyes closing as he basked in the fact thousands were watching him tease himself.
princesspeach: show us your pretty cock
princesspeach tipped 300 coins!
The sound of another big tip forces Jun's eyes open, reading out the message and thanking you for the tip as he stands up to shimmy out of his jeans.
He takes his sweet time taking off his underwear, the band of his boxers sliding along his cock before his full length slaps against his toned abdomen, another wave of messages causing his cock to twitch.
Sitting back down, he makes eye contact with his webcam again with his cock in his hand. He slowly begins to pleasure himself, feeling his veins pulse in his grip as he moves his hand up and down along his shaft.
"How was everyone's day? I hope all of you can lay down and relax with me," he practically purrs, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.
princesspeach: how’s your hand feel, kitten? your cock is leaking so much
“Fuck, it feels so good. I wish it was you around my cock instead, baby…” Jun’s eyes flutter at the sight of the nickname, his cock jolting in response, a bead of precum leaking out of the slit of his tip. He presses his finger against the sticky substance, pulling his finger away, causing a trail of his precum to follow his finger, glistening in the mood lighting in his bedroom, driving his viewers further into a state of desire.
His intense gaze captivates his audience through the camera as he brings his finger to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick his arousal off his fingertip before sliding two digits into his wet mouth, his tongue swirling around them as his other hand takes hold of his cock, jerking himself off faster this time around.
gyubear97: oh my fucking god this is so hot…i’m not gonna last
dinonono: me neither tbh, the cat ears are a nice touch
sweet_tangerines: shit, he always looks good
princesspeach: see how many people love seeing you jerk that pretty cock, kitten? I bet you love the attention
princesspeach: such a pretty slut for us
princesspeach: I’d love to stuff your cock in my mouth, make you cum down my throat
Jun can’t help but focus solely on your messages, the words flying by fast, but fueling his pleasure, getting closer and closer to his impending climax.
Jun takes a second to tug his shirt over his head, finally giving his viewers a good look at his stunning body, the mood lighting emphasizing the hills and valleys of his abs. He chuckles at the immediate response he receives while he readjusts the cat ears on his head that nearly fell off his head while removing his shirt.
He sits back in his chair, his right hand quickly moving back to his cock, his left one rubbing up and down his stomach before inching further up to tease at his nipples, moans slipping out of him as more precum leaks out of his cock, making it easier to fuck himself with hand.
At some point, Jun’s eyes close fully, losing himself to the pleasure as his head falls back on the headrest of his chair, his adam’s apple bobbing as he desperately tries to swallow his moans but fails miserably.
Almost anyone would agree that this was one of the most sinful sights they ever laid their eyes upon.
The man's body on full display, cute cat ears adorning his head despite his acts being anything but cute. How the perspiration on his body glistened as he got more worked up, the dark red flush of his cock as it leaked precum continuously, his cock glossy from his arousal and emphasizing every vein along his shaft.
princesspeach: babyboy gonna cum for us?
princesspeach tipped 300 coins!
princesspeach: cum for me baby
princesspeach: I'll cum with you
The notification sound of your tip forces his eyes to reopen, making the grave mistake of looking at the messages that followed.
Jun's hips stutter, fucking into his hand uncontrollably as he finally falls over the edge, his whole body burning hot as flashes of pleasure run through his body.
"T-thank you for the tip, p-princess," he moans out, thick globs of cum slipping out of his slit and onto his hand as he desperately tried to ride out his orgasm for as long as possible.
Once it felt like too much, he finally pulled his hand away from his softening cock, reveling in the light and blissful feeling he get when he had an intense orgasm. He pants heavily, taking a good couple of minutes to regain control of himself before he blinks up at the ceiling.
dinonono: damn, he came more than usual today
sweet_tangerines: i hope he uploads today's stream…i need to rewatch it
gyubear97: I already came twice…
Jun finally looks back into the camera, a subtle smirk across his lips as he raises his cum covered hand to his face to lick it off.
princesspeach: does the kitten like cleaning himself off? tastes good, doesn't it?
Jun chuckles softly at your comment as he licks off the remainder of his cum.
"I think it's time I wrap up this stream, guys. I had a lot of fun and hope all of you enjoyed yourselves as well. I'll do another stream in two days but don't worry! Tonight's stream will be posted to hold you over in the meantime. Have a good night, everyone!"
Jun winks into the camera before waving goodbye, his free hand moving to his desk to stop his stream.
He lets out a huff as he leans back in his chair, too lazy to get fully cleaned and dressed just yet, but the ringing of his phone from his bedside table forces him to get up out of his chair.
He rolls his eyes despite the blush on his face when he sees who's calling, taking a deep breath before sliding his thumb across to answer.
"Did you have to call me right after I closed the stream?"
"Oh shush, I'm only calling to ask if I should come over tomorrow since you won't be live."
Jun bites his lip at the offer, his mind thinking back to the times he's had you in his bed.
"You can come over, baby. I'll even wear the cat ears since you seemed to like them so much," he purrs into the phone.
"I'll hold you to that, kitten."
#svt#seventeen#svt fic#svt smut#svt x reader#svt imagines#seventeen smut#seventeen fic#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#jun fic#jun smut#jun imagines#jun x reader#jun#svt jun#junhui smut#junhui imagines#moon junhui#🌌:celestialworks
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Fboy enhypen with a reader who is very combative and doesn’t show similar interest in them?
Thanks sm for the ask! <3
Fboy!Jay
Cw: smut, enemies to lovers?
WC: idk but 51 paragraphs (probably more than 1k idk sorry)
A/n: this isn’t proofread cause I did this on my phone sorry <3
Okay so the reader is a rapper/singer that is being featured in one of their songs/albums, so they are at the studio together which is how they meet n stuff !!
Fboy! Jay
When Jay heard that they were getting a soloist,that he’s never heard of, would be working with them for a few months to collaborate he didn’t care. He didn’t even bother to look up your name or learn anything about you.
But when his members were on their phones looking at your Instagram profile, gawking at you talent and visuals, he was interested.
“Give me your phone, Jake,” he annoyingly asked. He couldn’t let his mind control his face, then he would be too obvious! He didn’t let his members know how interested he was when he saw the edits of you on Jake’s phone.
Instead, he just learned your name and later he looked up your Instagram profile on his private and spend hours looking at edits of you. He was embarrassing himself!
Girls fall for him, not the other way around! He made extra sure to look his best on the day the members were meeting you at the studio for the first time. His heart skipped a beat when he first saw you walk through the door and greet everyone.
He was prepared to shake your hand as you finished greeting the other members by doing so, but when you held out your hand to him, his brain short circuited. He just curled his fingers and fist bumped you. Why did he do that?!! She must think you’re so rude now!
The rest of the introductions were nothing he could remember, he was only focused on you. How your hands were perfectly manicured, how the jingle of your bracelets sounded when you moved your wrists, it was music to his ears.
As the day started to pass, more members said goodbyes before politely leaving, having contributed enough to the brainstorm for the tracks you were about to make with them.
Jay said simple suggestions here and there, but nothing too big, nothing enough to grant him permission to go home… as the last of the members finished collaborating in lyrics, soon they left one by one, asking Jay to leave but he surprisingly refused.
He started talking quietly about some ideas he was looking up on his lap top, and he stupidly pretended not to be amazed by your suggestions, dismissing them harshly.
You didn’t react how he wanted you to, you countered his comments by asking him for better ideas, making him feel on the spot!
“Well- I have more experience in composing since I am self produced,” you slyly answer him.
“Yeah, well maybe come up with some actual good ideas then.” He says, instantly regretting how harsh he is.
You scoff. “Okay, I don’t know who you think you are, but I am just as qualified for this as you” you say, also regretting your harsh tone.
“Me? Who even are you, huh? I’m an idol, and you’re what? A musician that I’ve never even heard of?” He snaps back at you. He feels shame immediately as the words leave his lips.
He noticed the sudden silence. “I um… I shouldn’t have said that, it wasn’t appropriate” he tries to make it slightly better adding that.
You scoff again. “I don’t know what you expect from me? Just to be amazed and fangirl over you? I suppose that’s with every woman you come across, huh?” You reply.
“Okay-yes! I admit it…” he sighs, letting the embarrassment consume him. “ I’m not used to having someone NOT be impressed by me, the feeling is foreign…”
“Who says that I’m not impressed?” You whisper back.
“What? I thought you hated me by now?” He honestly questions you
You slightly giggle at his question. “Why? Just because a woman isn’t taking off her clothes- like I’m sure they do for you- doesn’t mean that I dislike you.” You answer
His face feels hot at the assumption you made, his mind is thinking of you, wishing you were one of those girls in your made up scenario. He looks away quickly.
“I-uhm, that’s not what I meant,” he softly says. You roll your eyes. “Yeah I know, it’s called an exaggeration.” You hiss
“We won’t accomplish anything like this, so it’s best if we just go home today,” you stand and get your purse and coat and start to the door.
“No wait, it’s-I’m sorry,” he says, too soft for your ears to hear.
He sees you, your hand on the doorknob. He doesn’t know how but he’s in front of you, grabbing your wrist, your eyes are wide and surprised.
“I-uhm,” he stammers, not knowing the words to use. “I,” he repeats, but your face is mere inches away from his, and he can feel your breath on his face. You eyes are confused and fixed on his own.
He lets go of your wrist. He swallows. “Fuck it,” he whispers before taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to your own.
You were surprised, this all happened in about 30 seconds, you didn’t know what to do,you dropped your purse and coat and your hands moved on their own to the back of his neck, your fingers running through his undercut.
He deepens the kiss, groaning into your lips. You softly moan into him, which makes his blood rush to his trousers.
He pulls away from the messy kiss, surveying you to make sure that you want him, he looks for confirmation but you pull him into your lips before he could, getting his answer.
His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You groan at the sensation of his warm fingers brushing against your bare waist. You break the kiss pull your shirt over your head, Jay follows and takes off his own, instantly pulling you into another kiss,
The two of you slightly stumble backwards, finding the desk against the wall, he breaks the kiss to pick you up and sit you on the desk, facing him, he runs his large fingers up your back and undo your bra, letting the straps fall off your shoulders revealing your tits.
You tug at his belt buckle while he sucks on your tongue softly, he pulls away to undo his belt and let his baggy pants fall to the floor, exposing his briefs that hugged his body so well.
He grabs your face to deepen the kiss, little grunts and moans coming from both of you as his lips kiss yours. You run your hands down his abs, tracing the v line, teasing him by hooking your fingers on his underwear and so so slowly dragging them down, eliciting a groan from him.
“Fuckkk,” he whispers, the cool air hitting the precum already leaking from his tip. He runs his fingers up your thighs and reaches to the top of your leggings under your skirt, you lift your hips for him to pull them down.
He goes in your skirt , his thumb finding your clit, dipping down to wet it before circling it. You moan into his lips.
He then unzips your way too expensive skirt roughly and throws it on the ground. “I’ll buy you a new one baby I just need you so fucking bad right now,” Jay whines in your ear, as his mouth kisses down your jaw, his lips moving to your nipples as his hand palms them softly.
Jay sighs. “Fuck baby I need you right now please,” he moans. You hop off the desk and grab his arm, dragging him to the large black leather couch just a few feet away.
He sits down on the couch and pulls you on to his lap, groaning at how you grind against his painfully hard cock. “Fuck,” he whines into your mouth.
He fumbles around to his wallet next to him, collecting a condom before pulling his briefs all the way down, his cock snapping is lower abdomen.
He slides it down his length, whining at the sensation. You take it in your hand and drag it through your folds, rubbing your clit, which makes both of you curse.
You line yourself up with his tip, your thighs on his. He throws his head back as you sink down on him.
He moans loudly. He grabs your hips, slowly thrusts into you. Mumbled “ah”s and “fuck”s escaped his mouth as the sound of skin slapping filled the small room, along with your moans and noises of wet tongues and kisses.
“Ah- shit, baby- you’re gonna make me-“ he whines, “ah fuck- you feel amazing,” he says against your lips, moaning into you.
“Fuck-I’m close,” he groans, his hips start to speed up their thrusting, his movements becoming more sloppy and desperate.
He groans loudly into your mouth, his hips start to slow as he holds you tighter.
The sound of panting fills the silence. He slowly pulls his cock out of you, shivering.
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep and slow kiss.
“Hey, wanna just crash at my place tonight? It’s really late and I can drive you back to your house in the morning,” he says, a smile forming on his face.
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you reply, your smile growing as you lean in to a final kiss.
End <3
I’m probably gonna do a part? For others, I didn’t mean for this to be a whole fic but I wrote it on mobile so yeah :D
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✨2023: A Summary✨
Post your most popular and/or favourite edit/gifset/analysis for each month (it’s okay to skip months!)
tagged by @dribs-and-drabbles, thank you! this was a fun review and I was interested to see how many times my favorite post and the most popular post coincided (or didn't)
January
I wasn’t writing meta
February
Most popular: Heart’s Confrontation- the scene breakdown that started it all!
Favorite(s): Heart’s Confrontation, Moonlight Chicken Sign Language Index- I really had a lot of fun figuring out the similarities and differences in American Sign Language and Modern Thai Sign Language!
March
Most popular: Best Criers in Moonlight Chicken- it's funny, short, and sweet
Favorite(s): Moonlight Chicken is for the Queers, Isn’t it Difficult to be Born Poor?- I loved writing these so much!
April
Most popular: A plea for Akk to have unrestrained summer fun
Favorite(s): Bed Friend and Reflections Part 3; Songkran, Water, and KingUea- Not to sound egotistical or anything, but I was really proud of myself for the conclusions I came up with in both of these pieces
May
Most popular: Silence- I think this was one of the only things I wrote in May
Favorite(s): Silence- THE ACTING IS JUST SO GOOD OKAY?
June
Most popular: By/For/About Queers Part 1 and Part 2- these only have the most notes because this was originally a post from @absolutebl that I added thoughts to, so most of those notes are from them
Favorite(s): Phupa and internalized homophobia Part 1 and Part 2- it was really fun getting to unpack my past assumptions about Phupa and work through those until I came out the other side with a new blorbo.
July
Most popular: Lack of Touch in BMF
Favorite(s): Rain, BL Boys, and Reciprocity; Trans Allegory in Cupid’s Last Wish; Body Language in La Pluie, Episode 12- I especially liked Rain and Reciprocity because I think it has really shaped how I watch shows since then because I want to see if my theory holds.
August
Most popular: Only Friends, Boston, and Queer Culture
Favorite(s): Only Friends, Boston, and Queer Culture, Pause for Reflection, Part 1: Respectable Promiscuity and Only Friends- listen, I was going to write boring, academic, cited work about sex/porn as a joke, okay? I didn't expect people to actually engage with them as excitedly as they did!
September
Most popular: A Must Read- I give all credit for the success of this post to the Teen Vogue author who wrote the article and to @waitmyturtles who sent this link to me
Favorite(s): Pause for Reflection, Part 2: Only Friends, Racism, and the Commodification of Queer Asians; Poor Boy; Who is Mew Anyway?- Honestly, I had a wonderful time writing all the essays for Only Friends
October
Most popular: Best Scene in Only Friends and Why it was Sand and Nick Kissing
Favorite(s): Let’s Talk About Sex!, Why I Like BL, Physicality of Characters- the sex essay for my 69th essay was fun, and hilariously appropriate because I had recently answered the physicality question and could use it as an example
November
Most popular: Physical Touch and Hands in Last Twilight- It made me feel so warm and fuzzy that people would notice I wasn't posting about this show and want to hear from me <3
Favorite(s): IS BROTHER ANURAK THE ONE ARMED MAN?- I will never reach a higher high than when my obsession with hands finally paid off and I figured this shit out a month in advance of Part 2, I'm a motherfucking genius
December
Most popular: Hands Touching Hands- I love throwing in complete key smash type of analysis from time to time as a treat cause I keep forcing people to read literal long-form essays all the fucking time (sorry, not sorry)
Favorite(s): Top 5 Favorite Food Moments, Best of QL 2023: Favorite Lines, Best of QL pre-2023: Favorite Lines- I love when I can cause people emotional pain, and all of these not only stabbed me in the heart but took a couple of people down with me as far as I can tell from the tags.
__
It's wild to have done this, because I haven't really been keeping an eye on my stats until now. I've made almost 400 original posts this year, and increased my notes by 25,000 annually looking at 2023 compared to 2022. I have been a lonely little tumblr goblin since 2012. I came on here to read other people's smart thoughts about things I was watching and to reblog gifs, and I never really thought building community here was possible, but here I am 11 months after making my first BL analysis post with a bunch of friends I didn't know a year ago, and about 20 more lenses through which I watch my silly little gay shows.
tagging: @bengiyo, @ranchthoughts, and @rocketturtle4
#tag game#2023 summary#moonlight chicken#ofts#be my favorite the series#mlc#la pluie the series#os2 x bbs x atots#a tale of thousand stars#atots#my ride the series#bed friend#bed friend the series#our dining table#bokura no shokutaku
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In the last few days, I've made two long and rambling posts about Cowgate, a short incident from 2003 that haunts my nightmares. I think people should know that when I make posts like that - the ones that go way too long about something entirely niche - I am operating under the assumption that absolutely no one is reading this bullshit. Even the small handful of people who read this blog regularly, I assume you skip over those ones.
That's not just a hypothetical assumption, I make writing choices accordingly. I assume the only purpose of this post is to give me somewhere to put the hauntings besides my nightmares, and therefore, it doesn't matter if it's readable. I know that my whole blog is full of errors, but on posts like that, I get especially lax with things like editing. I go really deep on things where on a different post, I might think - okay, that's far enough. Because no one is reading this.
I have now been proven wrong several times about those couple of posts, which both mildly embarrasses and delights me. First of all, I got this great comment from @beastlyanachronism, which is now how I love to picture myself:
Then, the wonderful @lastweeksshirttonight proved that they'd read not only the posts but the comment, by immediately messaging me a corresponding picture. I replied that I love the image, I will definitely start my post with that image the next time a new Cowgate-based detail is found and I need to write about it. I didn't expect that to be soon, though. Breakthroughs are few and far between.
But then, I got another message, proving that at least three different people have read my post (actually four, if you count the very kind British man who read my post and then sent me a message to explain the nuances in the expression "bottle it"). And that last message is the reason for this post. Because, I can't believe I've been given cause to use this image so soon:
Further content behind the cut, because not everyone needs this content all over their feed.
This relates to the message I got last night, from the extremely helpful @linkeightvideo, who not only read my posts, but joined the cause and did his own research. And came up with this link:
The Metro cow is a thing!!! I knew the wording of that YouTube comment was weird (calling it "the Metro cow", rather than something like "a cow that said Metro on it"), suggesting that this was a specific and recognizable instillation. And I was right! But I cannot take credit for figuring that out, all credit goes to @linkeightvideo, who is the best.
The above link is to an archived version of an article from August 5, 2003, about three weeks before Cowgate occurred (which was August 26, 2003 - fun fact that has absolutely nothing to do with anything because to the best of my knowledge he wasn't there or anything, but that was also Nish Kumar's eighteenth birthday). The article is from the Edinburgh Fringe website. It's short enough so I'm just going to paste its text in full:
The Fringe was hit by a bunch of cotton-pickin', rootin-tootin' cattle ruslers in the early hours of Saturday night.
The almost life-sized, bright blue and red Metro bull was stolen from outside the Metro Fringe Box Office.
Metro newspapers are appealing for its safe return before the police are called and urge anyone with information to come forward.
Metro Fringe Box Office Manager, Gillian O'Connor said: "We're distraught to have lost such a valuable member of the Box Office team! Please bring him back."
The bull had just completed a secondment outside London's Victoria station, where he stood unmoved for a month. Yet after only a few days on duty with the Fringe he has gone missing leaving today's Festival Cavalcade a bull short of a procession.
That's it!!! That's the one! It was blue and red! I know it was blue and red, because Adam hills shouted "it's got red horns, it's all the rage". And it was almost life sized! And it said Metro on the side! Further research - also done by @linkeightvideo, he deserves all the credit in the world for this - finds that Metro sponsored the Edinburgh Fringe Festival that year, and also directly sponsored the Gilded Balloon venue.
So, the company called Metro had a large cow that was used in advertisements, and for one month in the summer of 2003, it was in London, outside Victoria Station. Then it was brought to Edinburgh, because they were sponsoring the festival and running a box office. They put it outside that box office, and it got stolen within "a few days" (which makes sense, as August 5th is a few days into the festival). It was meant to be part of the Festival Cavalcade, but couldn't be due to thieves.
Then, three weeks later, it spends all night on stage during a late-night comedy show in an Edinburgh venue that Metro sponsors, where it gets taken apart. How do we get from one state of affairs to the other? I don't know, but I'm a hell of a lot closer to understanding than I was yesterday. If the cow was somehow recovered, it would make sense from them to move it indoors, where it can be guarded better (again, credit for this idea goes to @linkeightvideo, and I think it makes sense). I mean, it can be guarded from drunk thieves in the middle of the night. Apparently the stage of the Gilded Balloon is not a good place to guard it from (shockingly) sober comedians in the middle of the night.
This made me try searching again for the specific words "Metro cow", and I found this article from December 12, 2003. It's a list of people who are involved with whatever organization this is, I'm not really clear on that. But it includes this one guy named Stephen Auckland. He's from the North of England, and as of when this was written, he was listened as the managing director of Metro. The bottom of his profile says:
An able sidekick to Associated Newspaper's Mike Anderson, even when it came to keeping up appearances following the disappearance of Mootro, Metro's cow mascot, from the Edinburgh festival. Auckland offered to dress up as a pantomime version. Luckily, they found the cow.
Guys! Guys! It has a fucking name! The Cowgate cow has a name! It's named Mootro! Now that I think about it, I actually can't believe I've never named the thing, given that I named the event (Cowgate), and giving the cow a name is the sort of thing I'd do. But I don't have to, because apparently it's named Mootro.
And the story has an update. It was stolen by August 5, and then it was found at some unknown point, and by August 26 it was in the Gilded Balloon. And then it got taken apart on stage.
I think this brings up one obvious question, which is: if this thing was important enough for its theft to be reported on the Edinburgh Fringe website, how come they were allowed to destroy it? The obvious answer would be that it was specifically made for just that one Edinburgh Festival, and was meant to be destroyed at the end of it anyway. But why did it spend a month in London right before that, then? And why would they do that anyway? Surely it's not efficient to make something like that for only a month, you'd think they'd plan to have it last a while and move it around based on where they're sponsoring things.
I can't believe this. This is the biggest revelation since I figured out who the fuck Karen Koren was, the woman referenced in Adam Hills' song, after after ages of Googling comedians named "Erin Coren" (finally worked out that she was the venue owner, which seems obvious now but it hadn't occurred to me at the time, when I was expecting it to be a reference to another performer). Actually, this is a much bigger revelation than that one, which just explained a couple of Adam Hills' lyrics. This is the biggest revelation in all the Cowgate research yet. The two main questions at the heart of the Cowgate mystery are: "Why did you do it?" and "Where did you get the cow?" And now one of those questions has been answered! It has a fucking name!
That second article referred to it specifically as the Metro "mascot". I guess a company is going to make more than one version of a mascot. But still, I don't think you're allowed to just destroy a sponsor's mascot. Maybe that mascot was at the end of its life anyway? Maybe Daniel Kitson just doesn't give a fuck? Maybe Daniel Kitson stole the cow in the first place. There's a whole new question. Who stole the cow? How did they get it back? How did it get from there to its whereabouts on August 26?
I know it wasn't on the Gilded Balloon stage every night of the 2003 Edinburgh Festival, because there's no sign of it in this montage, from Late 'n' Live on August 19, 2003 (also a fun video and great snippets of Chocolate Milk Gang history, if you can get past the second-hand embarrassment of Kitson trying his rap battle thing with an actual musician, and the presence of an actual musician makes the whole thing seem less ironic and therefore harder to watch - but you do get to see David O'Doherty beat up Jason Byrne and that's hilarious, also it's very funny to watch Daniel Kitson do something as out of character as brag about "nearly" winning a Barry Award and having a girlfriend from Australia, especially given how the latter turned out):
youtube
So it wasn't there on that night. Also, it just couldn't have been there every night. The Gilded Balloon is a proper venue that has proper shows during most of its time, it couldn't just have a large cow on stage for all of those. Also, in the beginning of that montage video from August 26, you see Kitson talking to the audience about the cow, and it sounds like he considers its presence as much of a novelty as they do. I mean, he's making fun of them for thinking it's a novelty, but he doesn't seem familiar with it, it seems like something he has to address:
youtube
This is the main reason for my theory that they didn't plan it beforehand, the montage shows the audience giving Kitson challenges for easy things to do with the cow, he asks them for more difficult challenges and then the video cuts, but I think the audience then asked him to tear it apart. It's a theory that makes sense based on some circumstantial evidence, but it does open up other questions. The main one being whether you can get permission to destroy a company's mascot between the beginning and the end of a comedy show, especially a comedy show that takes place entirely in the middle of the night. It doesn't seem likely. It also opens up some smaller questions, like what they were planning as the end of the show - the finale of the last night of Late 'n' Live, so you'd think they'd have something - that got bumped for this.
This reminds me that I had some further thoughts on the other mystery, of what actually went down on the night of August 26. I was thinking of the somewhat blue sky theory of there being two previous. Evidence for this: Adam Hills referred to "three chances", they were able to pick up chisels off the ground that seemed to just be lying around (possibly having been discarded after previous attempts), and Kitson in that video does have their air of someone who's already watched this go wrong and is really determined to make sure they get it fucking right this time. Evidence against: I'm not sure that works from a show planning perspective. What if it had worked on the first try, then what would the finale have been? If they'd watched it fail twice, would they really have made it the finale, knowing it may well fail a third time and that would be a shit ending? Though this could possibly be explained by the presence of the pipe that someone runs on stage, significantly increasing their chances compared to any attempt where that pipe was not in play.
I thought of something else today: the cow was already down when they started that video. Earlier in the night, we see comedians sitting on the cow, it's standing up. But at the end, when those guys run out to try to take it apart, they don't have to knock it down first. It's already lying on its side. They could have knock it down just before starting the song, but why would they do that? Surely knocking it down would be a fun dramatic moment, so if this were the first time they'd messed with the cow, they'd leave the knocking down to be part of the process. Unless this weren't the first time, and they had dramatically knocked it down before starting to try taking it apart, but this one done at some earlier point that the video didn't catch.
Anyway. That's the revelation. Along with some further thoughts on theories, but the main thing is the revelation. Massive breakthrough, and I need to thank @linkeightvideo one more time for research that he was under absolutely no obligation to do, but he came through anyway. What a legend. Am I using the British expressions right? What a solid gold legend.
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Character ai is a mess. I went back to it and lost myself in it again, but I'm back now but idk for how long. So I'm gonna like speedrun all of my writing and editing for this and the 2nd chapter. Cause holy shit, I'm gonna be hella busy in a few months. Also found out I have a small and harmless heart condition...yeah so this month been crazy.
Also made a little drawing since I was gone for a while. Hopefully I’ll be back with weekly updates now I’m off of character ai and started to take meds for my heart.
I Saw You Once In a Dream, Maybe Pt 9
Is it too late to kick him out? He stares up at you and smirks. You can feel your face get ready as the embarrassment hits. You can't be seriously asking for him to tag along.
You might as well beg for him to come.
“Can you please, come with me? I would appreciate it, if you can. I'll even buy something for you.”
It took everything in you to stare back at him. The urge to smack him increased when his smirk widened.
How the fuck did you two got married in the future?
“Oh, of course, I will come along. Especially when you asked so nicely.” He stands up and heads to the front door, giving you one last glance.
You sigh and try to calm down. Ever since running into him, your day has been…well you can't even describe it. Was it bad? Good? Meh?
You lock the door and catch up to Monkey King, who was waiting for you on the sidewalk. He gives you a soft smile.
“So which way are we going?”
“There's a small market nearby. It's just a short walk, 5 minutes tops.”
You walk off and try to block out any thoughts of how you prefer that smile on his face.
Monkey King nods and follows you.
“So what are you planning for dinner? I'm not much of a cook but I can help!” He stares at you with that same soft expression.
What the hell happened?! Why is he acting all calm and sweet all of a sudden?
You continue to ignore your thoughts and how your heart was fluttering.
“I don't know, I guess we'll find out when I buy the groceries. I'm not much of a cook either. I just fall asleep and skip dinner for most nights.”
“I don't think that's healthy for a human.” He mutters. You can see he wanted to say something more.
“Maybe, but I never had a reason to make dinner. A snack or takeout was enough.”
“So why not tonight?”
“Well…” You felt nervous and embarrassed. “It's been a while since I had someone over at my house so I just thought…that maybe I should do something different- something special.” You didn't need to see your face to know you were blushing. You wanted to scold yourself for getting all flustered for no reason yet all your thoughts stopped when you glanced at Monkey King.
He stares at you with wide eyes.
“You're cooking dinner because of me?” His eyes seem to shine like stars. Beaming with fondness and affection. “Looks like someone is falling for me.”
“What?! I just met you!” You nudge his shoulder. You wanted to get mad or at least annoyed but you just laughed. Monkey King laughs with you as he bumps his shoulder with yours. “Sneakily” holding your hand. Intertwining his fingers with yours, his grasp firm.
You smiled at him and held his hand back. Leaning on his shoulder as you both walk to the grocery store.
Even though you two spent an hour there. You enjoyed his company. Monkey King, helping by grabbing items or just joking around and having fun. What had always been a chore for you, felt fun when he joined along.
Okay, maybe you're starting to understand why you married this idiot.
Also, you managed to buy a little more than usual since he could carry a lot of things. That was a huge plus for you, since you refuse to use your car for anything. Does that thing even work? Oh, wait, pretty sure you lost the key to it and are too lazy to get a new one.
“Thank you again for helping to carry the bags back. You can place it on the counter.”
“You bought a lot of things, how empty is your fridge?”
“Shhhh, we don't talk about that. I bet you don't even have a fridge, so don't judge.”
“There's literally nothing in here.” He said placing a few items in the fridge.
You blow a raspberry at him and put the refrigerated items in the fridge.
“I told you I usually eat a snack or takeout. I hardly cook.”
“Is it because you don't know how to cook? How worried should I be, when you serve me my plate?”
You roll your eyes.
“If you're so worried, then I won't serve you anything.”
“Hey now, I said, I would be worried but that won't stop me from eating it. Edible or not, you're serving me food you made! No way I'm passing that opportunity. Maybe I can pretend, my darling spouse made me the best dinner after a long day of work.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. Are we really going to roleplay being an old married couple or what? We barely met, Monkey King.”
“Wukong, you can call me Wukong.”
You raise a brow at him.
“Alright, Wukong. So we are on a first-name basis now huh?”
“I mean-” He glances away, but you can see his cheeks turning red. “I really want to have a relationship with you and it'll be weird having you calling me by my title.”
It was weird to see him so…embarrassed and flustered. Throughout this whole day, he has been teasing you. Maybe there were a few moments when you saw him more softly. You just laughed and ruffled his fur in his head.
“I guess you're right about that, so Wukong it is then. Now put on a show we can watch while I cook. Nothing fancy or crazy, just some regular easy and fast food.”
Wukong chuckles as he heads to the living room.
“Alright, fine, but no complaints about what I pick.”
You put away the groceries and left the ingredients out. Once in a while, glancing at the tv to see what Wukong was searching for. You head to the trash can to throw something away when you spot the stuffed toy.
A part of you felt bad for throwing it away but another part of you felt embarrassed that you even bought the toy. What would Wukong think? Would he tease you about it or be hurt that you threw it away? That's if he found out. I wonder what will be the consequences for this?
#lmk reader#lmk y/n#lmk x reader#lmk x y/n#lmk sun wukong#lmk monkey king#sun wukong#monkey king#lmk wukong#sun wukong x reader#lmk sun wukong x reader#lmk monkey king x reader#monkey king x reader#lmk#interactive story
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moment of forever
[tasm!peter parker x reader]
sequel for scared to breathe
part i | word count: >6k
summary: months after the events of the multiversal battle, you’re stuck in an endless loop of helplessness and isolation. when seeking help from the person who started it all goes extraordinarily wrong, you find yourself in a different universe all together… with no way home.
warnings: sequel to scared to breathe, f!reader, sad feelings, MOM spoilers, long intro before peter content, fluff, injury, fast-paced with lots of time skips, more like a series of important little events, fast-paced romance, some another chance easter eggs, mostly edited
i won’t lie. this is a bit too quick for my taste and it’s all kinda shoved together. lots of little events in between each scene are excluded for the sake of giving both reader & peter a happy ending. but if you’d like to see more of the in-between stuff, i’d be more than happy to create their own little world. oh and also sorry for the long doctor strange intro, it was necessary. anyway, here’s some fluff .
Despite your exhaustive efforts to figure out why the world especially hated you, the answer just wouldn’t come.
Not even as you cried in your tiny apartment, fingers pulling at the ends of your strained hair painfully, lungs desperately searching for air.
Why, why on earth were you, of all people, the only one who was exempt from Strange’s stupid spell? Is there a reason the universe spared you the mercy of being oblivious to the starving pain that would come from being separated from everything you once knew?
Granted, the sorcerer’s spell didn’t erase all previous connections from your life—even the ones that were created due to Peter Parker’s important role in your growing years—but it definitely caused a strain on all the important ones.
Ned, MJ, hell even Happy…
Because try as they might, they could never really explain how they came to know you—only that they suddenly just did, influenced by a moment in their life that was shadowed by a cloud of darkness and mystery.
Yes, Peter Parker may not have been the only person in your world that you cared about, but he was damn well responsible for most of the other relationships that you held dear.
Without him, you would’ve never befriended Ned Leeds or Michelle Jones. You would’ve never interned for Tony Stark or wiggled your way into Happy Hogan’s secretly warm heart.
Without him, you would’ve never gotten into this situation in the first place… but you couldn’t blame him. You couldn’t hold any ill-will towards the teen, not when every cell in your body longed to leave your apartment right now and go searching all of New York City for him.
Why were you the only person who could remember Peter Parker?
Not only that—why did you still dream of the other Peter Parker that you met what seems like years ago? (In reality, it’d only been a few months).
It wasn’t fair. It simply wasn’t. And it especially wasn’t fair that you had no solid way of finding either of them.
The tears on your cheek were starting to dry. And your desperation was starting to drive you insane…
Your last option had been running through your mind for a while now, the thought popping into your everyday thoughts sporadically throughout the last few weeks until you had no choice but to finally entertain it.
It couldn’t be the wildest idea to exist—people had done crazier things before, right?
And as you wiped at your face and stood up from your creaking bed, you were determined to finally see it through.
177A Bleeker Street was even more daunting than it was last year; the Sanctum Santorum hanging over you menacingly.
But it wasn’t enough to deter you from your plan; you took a deep breath before raising your hand to knock—
The door swung open suddenly. Your hand fell forward along with most of your body before you caught yourself embarrassingly.
“Jesus,” you sighed, heat rushing to your cheeks as you tried your hardest not to glance back at the fellow New Yorkers that were rushing down the street behind you. Like they’d really care, honestly.
“Not Jesus.”
“Wow!” You practically screamed, one hand flying to your chest while the other flew around aimlessly, desperate to put distance between you and the unexpected voice. “Okay, that was uncalled for.”
Doctor Stephen Strange stood at the top of the grand staircase, reminiscent to a few months ago when he’d greeted you, Ned and MJ before everything went to shit.
In his usual sarcastic fashion, one eyebrow raises carefully. “What’s uncalled for is you showing up at my door without invite.”
Someone’s in a bad mood. “Yeah, sorry about that, we aren’t exactly buddies, and I couldn’t just dial you up so—” His outfit caught you off-guard, a pristine suit and tie replacing his usual sorcerer attire. “What’re you wearing?”
Strange rolled his eyes. “What are you doing here?” He pointedly ignored your question.
The compliment you were ready to give died on your lips, a glare replacing your original response.
“I need help fixing a mistake that you made.”
“’Mistake that I made?’” There’s a hint of a smile on the man’s face, but it isn’t a happy one.
You realized how bold you were being. “Y-yeah.”
“Let’s get something straight,” Strange began, slamming the door shut behind you with a flick of his finger. “The only mistake I made was inviting three children into my home and effectively ruining any privacy I might’ve once had.”
Definitely in a bad mood. Maybe you should take a different route.
“Sir, I’m aware that showing up here unannounced wasn’t a good idea but I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
Irritated, Strange shut his eyes and sighed.
He could think of a hundred reasons not to hear you out, but something tells him it might actually be important. After all, it was his initial spell that nearly caused the destruction of the multiverse. Even if the last spell was successful and Spider-Man’s identity was concealed from everyone’s mind, including his own, there still could be some loose ends he could’ve forgotten to tie.
“Can you walk fast?”
You’re flabbergasted. “What?”
“Can you walk fast? I’m in a bit of a time crunch.”
Realizing this might be your only chance, you jumped at it frantically. “Yes—yes, I can. Super fast.”
Adjusting his watch, Strange jogged down the steps and towards the door. “Talk to me on the way.”
Without hesitation, you set off after him, hot on his trail. “On the way where?”
“Wedding.”
“You’re getting married?” You gawked stupidly. Thankfully, he’s walking ahead of you.
Strange scoffed. “I wouldn’t be late to my own wedding.”
A quip sat at the tip of your tongue, but he continued. “It’s not too far so I would get to the point if I were you.”
“Right,” you matched his quick pace. “A few months ago, you cast a spell that was meant to erase the identity of Spider-Man from the entire world.”
“Yes,” he agreed roughly.
You cringed in anticipation. “Let’s say your spell didn’t exactly work.”
Your walk was brought to an abrupt halt. You whipped around to face Doctor Strange and the look on his face was deadly.
“Excuse me?”
People dodged your bodies left and right, traffic building up on the busy sidewalk.
“I know who Spider-Man is still and—”
“Stop,” his palm flew up. “Don’t say anything.”
“But I—”
“Don’t—”
“Just let me—”
“No—”
“I’m not going to tell you who he is!” You said over his protests.
It became silent.
“You know who he is,” it was more of a statement than a question.
“Yes,” you nodded.
“Did you happen to remember this out of the blue or—”
“There was nothing to remember,” you said matter-of-factly. “You see, I never forgot. At the beginning, I thought the spell would take some time to settle in, so I tried to shrug it off. But then days turned into weeks and everyone else has moved on but me.”
Strange adjusted his suit, peering around the street as he tried to regain a bit of composure. Out of all things you could’ve told him, he certainly wasn’t expecting this.
How is it that you, a girl with no extraordinary abilities (that he knew of), resisted the effects of an advanced enchantment? One that even infiltrated his enhanced mind…
“Alright, kid,” you were back to walking down the street, following Strange who had a strange pep in his step. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to come to this event with me. You’re going to pretend as if you don’t exist and then we’re going to figure this whole situation out after I’m done.”
You cringed at the idea of sitting through a stranger’s wedding. “Are you sure I have to go to this wedding with you? I could always stop by the Sanctum tomorrow—”
“No,” he said sternly. “I’m not so sure you understand. This shouldn’t have happened. We’re going to talk to Wong and we’re going to figure out why you have the ability to withstand a universal spell.”
And that’s how you ended up at a stranger’s wedding. A stranger who you later found out was Strange’s ex-girlfriend, who he clearly hasn’t gotten over—you had a keen eye and a knack for observation.
In all, the entire ideal was extremely uncomfortable, your jeans and t-shirt sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd of elegant invitees… It wasn’t until a loud crash had all of the guests tripping over themselves to squeeze onto the balcony, chaos erupting on the streets of New York City.
Rusty from months of zero superhero action, you weren’t quick enough to reach Doctor Strange before he was throwing himself off the balcony dramatically, cape billowing behind him and leaving the group gasping at his heroics.
“Damn,” you muttered, backtracking until you were at the staircase, taking two or three steps at a time.
Staying at the wedding was likely the safest option, probably the option Strange would’ve preferred, but it had been too long since you’d been involved in crimestopping. The superhero itch was too intense to ignore… This was your element.
…Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you’d find once you busted through the doors onto the Manhattan streets.
A one-eyed octopus was tearing through the concrete, smashing into buses and buildings with an eye set to kill. Heart racing in your ears, you followed its line of vision onto… a girl?
She couldn’t have been much younger than you. Jet-black hair thrown up into a ponytail, a denim jacket slung over her shoulders, white sneakers that had seen better days.
Jesus.
Frantically, you looked for Strange and within the destruction, a flash of red was weaving through the running crowd. Clearly, he had the situation handled.
Without a second thought, you made a beeline toward the girl, jumping over concrete slabs and dodging overturned cars until you were feet away from her.
Fire raced through your legs. If there’s one thing you’ve gotten from this, it’s that you needed to run more.
“Hey!” You heaved, hands waving as you pushed on.
The girl’s head snapped toward you, fear stretching her lips into a deep frown. Her chest was rising as quickly as yours.
“We gotta get out of here! Let’s go—”
The ground disappeared beneath your feet, your lungs freezing as a slimy tentacle wrapped around your sore leg.
You were screaming bloody murder, possibly ripping through your vocal cords as the street got further and further from you. You were damn near close to soaring above the buildings beside you.
Pain tore through your back as you finally slammed into the balcony of a building next to you, your leg being released, forgotten by the octopus as it focused back on the girl who looked like an ant from your height.
Icy fear froze you to your spot, clutching at your throat. Since falling from the Statue of Liberty, heights had been a tricky thing for you.
A sweat broke out on your hairline, and you dared to close your eyes. There was no way down from here.
Any peace you could’ve found was quickly obliterated when your building was rattling again, the monster slamming into the balcony once more until the girl was a foot away from you.
Before the monster could end both of your lives, Strange was back on his feet again, leading it away.
You turned toward the girl. “Hey, that—that was a close one,” you attempted to joke. Turns out you spoke too soon.
The slab of concrete collapsed, sending you both sliding down the side of the building, meeting halfway in a crash of limbs and shrill screams. Frantic brown eyes found yours before everything around you was suddenly spinning, your vision surrounded by an array of colors. The two of you were falling feetfirst into a… a portal?
“Ah! What the hell?” It was the first thing you could muster, heaving from the impact of the cold, damp sidewalk.
Though your body protested, you pushed yourself onto your knees, trying to find the denim-clad girl who had fallen with you.
Except she was nowhere to be seen… and this wasn’t the New York you’d left behind.
Here, the sun was nearly gone, darkness shadowing the corners of the alley you found yourself sitting in. The lights of nearby billboards reflected on the rain drops of the concrete.
Something about all of this was off… Well, excluding the fact that your surroundings had magically disappeared and then reappeared again, only to find yourself in a completely different place than where you had just been a mere second ago.
What in the hell was going on?
Scrambling to your feet, you pressed yourself to the wall, pain shooting up your ankle as soon as you tried to put weight on it. Must’ve landed on it wrong.
You cursed under your breath, cradling your ankle as tears threatened to spill.
In fact, you were so caught up in your own agony that you failed to notice the shuffle at the end of the alleyway. Or the figure that had landed on the rooftop of the building across from you, crouched curiously.
Softly, it landed in the shadows, obscured from your vision as you continued to lament over your injured joint.
Awestruck, Spider-Man made his way closer to you. Everything in him was screaming that this whole thing must be a dream, a wildly vivid deception conjured up by the aching part of his brain that constantly longed for you.
But you looked too real, crouched over with your hair framing your pain-stricken face. T-shirt hanging over your shoulders as you mumbled undecipherable words. Even from his spot, he could see the chipped polish on your nails and the stained converse on your feet… Lord, you were even wearing the same necklace as the day of the Statue of Liberty incident.
A swell of emotions attacked him. Then, your name was leaving his lips before he could help it, his feet tripping over themselves in a clumsy matter. All to get to you before you could vanish before his very eyes.
Except this wasn’t a dream—you weren’t going to vanish—and you were really there. Breathing before him with flushed cheeks and curious eyes.
“Peter?” You breathed, recognizing the silhouette of the man even in the darkness.
Little did he know, Peter Parker from Earth-120703 also infiltrated your mind constantly, appearing in the form of sweetest dreams and fantasies (whenever you weren’t torturing yourself with nightmares). You hadn’t meant to let his short visit to your earth affect you so much, but there was something about him that you couldn’t shake off.
Tears welled up and he was quickly ripping the mask off, revealing his messy brown locks and shiny disbelieving eyes.
“H-how?” He was slowly approaching you now. All he wanted to do was wrap you in his arms.
You mirrored his look of disbelief. “I don’t know. I-I went through this portal and ended up here—oof!”
The dam broke as he suddenly pulled you in, legs tangling with his. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him as close as humanly possible with an idiotically huge smile.
You never thought you’d seen your Peter again, much less this Peter. Happy couldn’t begin to describe the plethora of feelings rushing to your brain.
Beneath your grip, you felt Peter’s body begin to tremble. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
You pulled away the slightest bit, searching for his eyes and feeling your heart crack when you found the tears spilling down his red cheeks. “Peter…”
“I have to be dreaming,” he shuddered, closing his eyes softly.
You smiled. “This is real, Peter. I’m here… somehow.”
He didn’t answer, only tightening his grip around your waist. It began to drizzle, rain trickling over your intertwined bodies, but it didn’t dare ruin the moment of bliss between you two.
“Honestly, I’m not really sure how this happened… but what I do know is that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since December.”
Peter finally looked up, catching your gaze with a clouded look.
You were distantly aware of how little space existed between the two of you. “Say something,” you breathed.
Swallowing his fear, Peter sighed shakily. “I shouldn’t have left.”
“Peter, you had no choice—”
“I shouldn’t have left without telling you how much being with you meant to me,” he finished pointedly. Your gaze kept flickering between his intense stare and the lips you’d been dreaming about for months.
This was a fool’s game. Harboring feelings for someone you’d only known for a day, but you had felt the profound love he held for you—in his universe, yours and the next. Even in that one day he’d spent most of ignoring you. The last hour you had after the battle created a bond you were sure had been pulling on your heart strings until this very moment.
It was a fool’s game—loving someone who had loved a different version of you. But despite all of it, the universe had created your souls for each other, in this world and the next, forever bonded by the complexity of your hearts, sewn and meticulously intertwined only to fit with each other’s.
You pulled him into your embrace again, cuddling him in an attempt to soothe over any guilt or pain he felt from your sudden goodbye. “I understand. It’s so okay, I’m here now.”
“You’re here now,” he repeated into your hair shakily. His hands held you like glass.
It’s funny—how adamant he was on not meeting your eyes, not talking to you, hell not even touching you all those months ago. Now, it was like he couldn’t get enough.
The cold, distant Peter you met was gone. And your own behavior was surprising you— it was a mixture of the relief of escaping your months-long isolation since the spell gone wrong, and the feelings that were blossoming slowly but surely.
A sharp sting reminded you of your pressing injury.
“Peter,” you hissed, trying to divert the weight off your leg.
“What?” He seemed unnecessarily startled, pulling away from you as if he’d been burned. His frantic eyes searched your body.
“It’s my ankle,” he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten how you were hunched over in pain. “I think I sprained it when I landed here.”
In a series of clumsy movements, Peter’s mask was securely placed over his face again and he was crouched in front of you funnily.
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Even with the mask, you could imagine the eyebrow raise Peter gave you as he spun to look at you. “I can take you to my place. We can check it out there…”
You didn’t mean to hesitate. Since you had been thrown into this new world, your brain had been moving in slow-motion.
“If you want, of course! There’s-there’s a hospital a few blocks down. If you want, you could get it checked out by a professional because I—” a nervous laugh escaped him. “—I’m obviously not a doctor. Of course, you’d want to get it checked out by a doctor. Sorry, that was stupid—”
“Hey!” You laughed. “I don’t mind getting evaluated by Bugboy. I happen to trust you more than anyone anyway so…”
You’d said it so casually, but to Peter, it meant everything.
He stared at you for a moment too long before clearing his throat awkwardly. “Well, then it’s decided. Back to my place we go. Fair warning, I’m not the neatest person.”
You hopped on his back without an ounce of grace. “I don’t mind.”
You’re a clean freak, Peter thought quietly. Of course, you mind.
But he discarded it to the back of his mind, focused on getting you to a safer place.
“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”
And then you were swinging the streets of Manhattan, soaring over bridges and buildings until you were landing on the fire escape of a Queens apartment. High above the ground, definitely on a double-digit floor.
For once, the height didn’t scare you.
Peter wasted no time in retrieving a first aid kit as soon as he’d gotten you both through the window. You could barely make out the layout of his bedroom, disoriented from how fast the hero was moving.
Peter crouched in front of you, dropping to his knees as he gently pushed you back onto his bed.
You hit the comforter softly, holding yourself up by your elbows as you peered down at the suit-clad man.
He poked and prodded at your swollen ankle, drawing out a long hiss through your nostrils as you fought the reflex of kicking him away.
Smoothly, he reached into the first aid kit and took out a large roll. Wrapping it around the joint firmly, he looked up at you through his eyelashes.
“Good news—it isn’t sprained.”
“Great,” you sighed in relief, falling back onto the bed.
“But it could hurt to walk for a few days.”
You threw a thumbs up. “Awesome.”
“It shouldn’t be a problem. I don’t have classes for a few weeks so it all evens out.”
A few weeks? Did you want to stay in this world for that long? Did you really have a choice in the matter? Did you even want to go back?
It barely took any contemplating for you to realize that you didn’t. Doctor Strange was clearly in over his head with all the ruckus happening at his doorstep and he couldn’t have looked more clueless when you told him of your predicament this morning… you wouldn’t be surprised if the sorcerer had no clue how to fix the issue… and at this point, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to.
You hadn’t realized that forgetting your Peter would also mean forgetting the one who had just patched up your swollen ankle. Not that your Peter didn’t mean as much to you (in all honesty, your years of friendship with him meant more than anything in the world) but the growing bond with this universe’s Peter had transcended the barriers of space and time…
That had to mean something. You felt it.
Still, you couldn’t help the slightest twinge of guilt. I mean, you had technically landed in his universe uninvited. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
It was stupid to say, but you couldn’t help it.
Are you kidding? Peter gawked. He didn’t dare utter it out loud though. “It’s no imposition at all,” is what he settled for instead. Because he knew you, down to your very core. He could read you like a magazine.
The sincere look in his eyes was all it took to ease your hesitance. “Thanks,” you smiled bashfully.
Before he could stare at you in awe any longer, Peter stood up with the first aid kit in hand. He moved to put it away, but he was stopped by a sudden grip on his hand.
It was your hand, small and warm in his. Curved and carved in familiar lines that he’d spent hours and hours memorizing when he once had you in his arms…
Frozen, he waited for your next move.
Wobbling, you pulled yourself up until you were nearly chest-to-chest with Peter.
It was still and quiet for a few moments.
Now that you were so close to him, your mind went blank.
“Um—” his eyes darted from your eyes to your moving lips. “What… what year is it?”
Wow. Out of all things you could’ve broken the tension with, the only question that comes to mind is the date. You instantly want to bash your head into a wall. It’d been too long without any Peter Parker interaction; you were beginning to lose your touch.
It seemed like a bucket of cold water fell on Peter’s head. The anticipation in his gaze melting into amusement. “It’s, erm, it’s 2015.”
Your jaw dropped, leaning back to sit on the bed again. “Are you serious?”
Your grip on his hand didn’t waver. Truthfully, you weren’t sure why you got up in the first place—you just didn’t want him to leave your side yet.
“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a chuckle. “Imagine my surprise when I landed in your world.”
The first aid kit clattered at the movement, uncomfortably hitting his shoulder. Getting a grip, you finally released his hand.
“Right…” you murmured, watching as he went to store the kit underneath the bathroom sink. There was a hesitance in his step, as if he too didn’t want to linger far from your presence.
He sauntered back over to you. Sitting crisscross-applesauce, Peter gave you a smile that made your heart stop.
“So… what have I missed?”
It was a bit strange at first, you had to admit, but eventually, you and Peter fell into a routine.
Well, it was more like you had assimilated into his routine… staying at his apartment (though you definitely had the choice of leaving if you wanted to) without complaint and attempting to chef up whatever you could with the sparce ingredients Peter picked up from the grocery store.
When you weren’t cooking something, you found yourself tidying the small space up, despite the man urging you to rest your ankle.
It’d been days, almost a week, and your injury was on the precipice of full healing. The only word for Peter’s behavior was doting.
It was only the seventh night of your arrival on this strange world that you and Peter finally moved past the awkward roommate stage.
It was late… or rather early in the morning. The clock read 3:27 AM, the LED lights flashing behind your closed eyelids from how many times you’d checked on it throughout the night.
Peter had arrived twenty minutes ago from his Spider-Man duties. The shower was on, the only sound in the apartment and you found yourself hyper fixating on it.
Sighing, you dreadfully thought of how he would open the bathroom door, hair damp and eyes weighed down from the lack of sleep. How he’d smile at you brightly despite it, and wish you a goodnight before softly closing his bedroom door and quietly making his way to the small couch in his even smaller living room.
It made you feel like a burden, even though Peter did everything in his power to make sure you felt like anything but.
Reassurances could only work for so long.
Which triggered the same discussion every morning—you’d tell him you were more than happy to take the couch and he’d endlessly argue against it.
Tonight was going to be different.
Your eyes squinted against the light of the bathroom, the door opening slowly. Steam poured into the room and along came Peter, shaking out his messy hair.
As usual, his tired eyes lit up when he saw you sitting up against the bedframe. Even with the messiest bedhead and crumpled t-shirt, you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
God, he never would’ve thought you’d be in his life again. The multiversal incident was something out of his wildest dreams, an instance that should’ve never happened, a blip in the timeline of the universe… but God, was he glad that it happened.
Otherwise, he would’ve never known that you were the same here and in every universe, with a spirit as shiny as gold and as bright as the sun.
You were his sun.
Dragging his feet to the door, he began to give you his usual goodnight.
“Wait,” you cut him off.
He did just that, hand hovering over the doorknob expectantly.
“If you won’t let me sleep on the couch,” you swallowed down your nerves. “Why don’t we just share the bed?”
Silence.
“I just hate that you’re out there and I’m in here so I thought there’s more than enough space… if you want.”
More silence.
You overstepped, of course you did. That’s the only thing you could gather from the impassive look on the brunette’s face. An apology was at the tip of your tongue, regret staining your ears red.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Peter protested. Still, his hand slid off the doorknob.
“It’s your bed,” you pointed out.
“Still,” Peter shook his head. “I don’t mind the couch. Really. It’s more convenient too, you know—”
“More convenient than your own bedroom?” You chuckled, realizing Peter was as nervous as you were.
In all honesty, he couldn’t want anything more. He longed to close the distance between you constantly. When once your touch practically burned him in that small supply closet in Midtown High’s lab, now it was all he could think about.
Fear held him back. The fear of getting too close and then losing you again. The fear of falling even more in love with you because it scientifically just couldn’t be possible. Loving someone any more than he loved you would surely send him to the hospital.
But you were staring at him with glistening eyes, cheeks flushed from embarrassment, but still letting the corners of your lips curl into an anxious frown.
“It’s just that… ever since that night—when I fell off the Statue of Liberty—”
Every muscle in Peter’s body seized up, eyes shutting on instinct. Endless images of your falling body replayed like a broken record.
“—I haven’t been able to sleep. Every night, I’m right back there. Falling into a bottomless void—” your voice cracked and you quickly cleared your throat. It was pathetic to cry about something that had already happened. Especially when the person in front of you had experienced it before, twice.
“I’m sorry,” you gathered your bearings. “If I’ve crossed a line…”
“Absolutely not,” breathed Peter, eyes glistening with unshed tears. With that, he finally gave into his desire, rushing toward you before you could break down entirely.
Arms wrapped around your waist, the bed sinking with his weight, and you finally let yourself feel.
It was a mixture of fear—no, terror—and comfort. The sensation of falling again but being caught in the arms of the person you trusted with your life. Peter had saved your life and you knew he’d do it time and time again.
So that’s how you fell asleep that night, pressed into the crook of Peter’s neck.
You barely heard it, but as you drifted off, a quiet whisper was uttered with a gentle press of lips against your forehead.
“I won’t ever let anything happen to you. Never again.”
You were happy to find that every night after was nightmare-free, instead replaced with dreams of your happiest moments growing up in Queens. Flashes of your friends in Midtown, giggling with Ned, Peter and MJ. Memories of the last moment you had with Peter, who was quickly becoming your favorite person, at the bottom of the monument of your original universe.
The two of you were slowly becoming more comfortable with crossing more boundaries, tangling your limbs together in bed or wrapping each other in a hug whenever Peter would return home from his Spider-Man duties.
It seemed like he couldn’t get enough of you, a stark contrast to how he’d acted the first time you met him. But the bandage had been ripped off and things were different now. He had a second chance to make things right with you, to not commit the same mistakes he once had.
You were his second chance.
Though you were constantly fretting over pulling your own weight around the place, Peter felt like you were doing too much. After all, his home would always be yours.
So, it’s how he ended up taking a night off from patrolling to instead gather all the ingredients for your favorite dish. (At least he hoped red pepper pasta was your favorite dish, everything else he’s known about you has been consistent in both universes).
When you woke up from your nap that evening, seeking the delicious smell that was wafting in from the kitchen, your heart melted when you found Peter at the stove. Dashing between the counter and the sizzling sauce on the burner, he had never been more handsome.
It was pathetic really, the speed it had taken you to cross the small distance between the bedroom door and where the hero stood.
But it didn’t matter. Because you had one single thought in your mind—one that had been floating around for weeks now in the back of your head—and it took over.
A sound of surprise escaped Peter when you crashed into him, spatula crashing onto the ground forgotten. You wasted no time in tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him close enough that his shaky breath hit your lips.
You sought permission in his eyes, searching until he gave you his answer. And it came faster than expected, the tiniest of nods bringing his mouth closer to yours before Peter pressed his lips to yours.
Slightly chapped but a sensation that turned the spark in your belly into a full-blown fire… uncontained and wild, burning through every emotion until all you could feel was unconditional love.
A feeling you didn’t know you were searching for all your life until you ended up in this precise moment, wrapped in the arms of someone who loved you more than the moon loved the stars and the sun loved the moon.
You pitied those who wouldn’t find a love as extraordinary as the one you’re consumed by… because you’ve said it again and again but only just realized the raw depth and truth to these words— the universe had created your souls for each other, beyond the voids of space and time, destined to intertwine infinitely until the world ended and another began… It was destiny that had brought him to you the first time.
And fate that would have you sharing this moment of forever in a small, dingy apartment in Queens.
hey! missed you all <3 i’ve had about 10 peter parker drafts in my computer for a few months and they’re finally coming together.
hope you’re all doing well & much love to you all<3 feel free to send me a pm with any updates or rants or requests. i’m aware that there’s a good amount of requests i never got to. don’t worry, i didn’t ignore them. i’ve just lacked inspiration to write for so long and i’m still not quite confident in my ability to write in a style that i genuinely like. still, tumblr makes me extremely happy and i love interacting with all you readers and creators.
anyway, that’s all for now.
— elle <3
#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x reader#the amazing spider-man#the amazing spider-man x reader#andrew!peter parker x reader#garfield!peter parker x reader#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader#andrew garfield x reader#tasm x reader#spider-man#spider-man x reader#peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker#peter parker fluff#tasm imagine#the amazing spider-man imagine#marvel#marvel x reader#doctor strange#america chavez#scared to breathe#part 2#mgparker
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idk what this has to do with anything but Ive been having a really long couple weeks but especially today and I felt like I got nothing done today but I just realized I literally spent like 5 hours working to get over how scared I am of filing taxes and trying my best to start making progress with it, washed my laundry, deep cleaned my and my siblings bathroom which was so dirty and really really needed it, i did my evening skincare for the third night in a row including using my retinol which I keep skipping out of laziness, I also just put on my recalcifying tooth treatment which I also haven’t used in weeks, and I finally got my box of stuff to put in my car of my floor for months and out there and organized, and made dinner for my siblings.
Like all things considered that’s a lot of small and big victories and positive steps in the right direction. Why on earth was I letting myself spiral into feeling miserable and freaking out cause I felt so behind because I still have to finish my taxes and have work and an event and schoolwork to do tomorrow. Literally why I’m I wasting the hour or two I have to relax stressing about tomorrow till I wanted to cry my eyes out. Idk we all get in our heads sometimes but I was up really late last night and generally if I’m up past 2 am (no matter how long I sleep) I have a pit in my stomach and feel super tightly wound and shaky and anxious and that happened today on top off a busy week so it felt like the end of the world and like I was a massive failure but it really truly isn’t the case. Idk if this might be encouraging to someone I don’t really have the mental energy to edit it and make it have a cohesive point or anything this is just where I’m at rn.
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A Friend In Me: Chapter 2
Yandere Platonic Toman
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Masterlist
A/N: Holy hell, it's been a while! Really glad to be back from my break, it's honestly weird to not be writing every free minute I have. Crunch time just to finally get this out on time for my boy's birthday :3 As usual I will edit the grammatical errors later cause its super late now. Happy (very belated) Birthday Mikey!!
It was an unusual spring in your step and an exceptionally cheery hum on your lips that accompanied you when you returned to school the following week, your spirits riding high off a fun-filled weekend surrounded by your precious friends. Albeit it was a break that the boys had forced a very reluctant you to take against your will and the mountain of homework piled high up on your desk. Yet all it took was a lavish sprinkle of whining and tugging and pleading, combined with a generous serving of extra strength puppy eyes, and you caved like the crispy top of one of your homemade pot pies.
And that was hands down the best decision your friends had ever made for you all month, you had to admit.
As someone whose life had been all but consumed in an endless cycle of school, work, home and utter loneliness up till meeting Baji and Mikey on that fateful afternoon, it blew your mind that there was so much to see, so much to do in this city you’ve lived your whole life in. Maybe it was just that the city came alive when you were with your friends, the alluring lights dotting skyscrapers winking at you from the distant skyline. Or maybe it was the laughs and smiles that helped saturate the sounds and sights that filled your wide eyes and ears. Be it fishing by the riverbank in the outskirts of the city with Draken and Pah-chin, which you had barbecued there and then and eaten the fish, trying out a new cafe in outskirts with Mitsuya and Mikey, a half-an-hour bus ride away from your home, or even just picnicking in a public park under the shade of a century old tree with Kazutora and Baji, you never found a reason for your smile to drop.
Needless to say, the high spirits carried over from weekends translated into a bounce in your step as you skipped the last few steps to the gates of your school, waving goodbye to Mikey who had dropped you off. You could do this. You were certain you could. All this time spent around friends who truly cared for you, who so kindly, so patiently helped you through your social anxiety - if you couldn’t make a single one on your own, maybe you didn’t deserve any. But you wouldn’t let them down, not this time.
Confidence at an all-time high and in the midst of giving yourself a pep talk, the ever so slight crinkle of the corners of Mikey’s black eyes and the small smirk that quickly faded from his face slipped by you unnoticed.
“Morning, Yamamoto-kun, Kaito-kun!” You chirped out, completely undeterred from the lack of responses you were receiving from the various classmates shuffling by: they had been enthusiastic enough last Friday after all. It was probably just the Monday blues, and you conveniently brushed off the nervous glances sent your way. The morning sun shining directly into your classroom - the same one that shone on you last week as you finally broke ground with new people on your own accord - brought with it a sense of hopefulness with the refracted fragile lines of rainbows through large clear glass windows. Spending a few minutes to watch as the rays dance across the still classroom filled with students, you resigned yourself to reminiscing about your amazing weekend while waiting for the gloom to drain from the atmosphere.
Alas, it seemed your understanding of the situation was far from reality, and the realization only finally dawned when homeroom, and then first class dragged on and the expected friendliness never materialized.
“Tanaka-kun! How was…your…week…end?” Your voice trailed off as said boy simply stalked pass without a glance in your way, your raised hand slowly retracting back under the table as you watched his back disappear round a corner, not once acknowledging your presence. And he wasn’t the first with those cold shoulders and even colder glares that you couldn’t even begin to understand, already one of countless you had been on the receiving end of in the first few hours of classes. Biting back the tears you felt starting to well up in your eyes, at least the risen sun melted away a little of the icy reception you received. Why? What did you do? Maybe it was the way you were pronouncing their names? Was it your expression?
No matter. “I’ll try harder.” You mumbled to yourself under your breath for the umpteenth time even as your fingers picked at the corner of bleeding fingernails, the other hand tugging and grasping at the hem of your school shirt. You could always try harder.
But as time dragged on and your class started and ended one by one, it became clear to you that social skills just simply weren’t a strong suit of yours. And your mind - or more so your heart, you suspected - started to fail in its ability to push back those nagging voices that haunted you, allowing them to roar straight back to the front of your thoughts. What you felt now - it was like that dream you had again and again of falling off the tallest skyscraper headfirst. Your dream never had you crash into the warm pavement below, but you could confidently say you learn that feeling first hand; your hopes of making even more friends through your own ability all but smashed into million pieces, and yourself dunked straight back into the harsh cold waters of reality.
Yet all you could do was unwillingly trudge on, clinging to the last bit of hope as you slumped into your seat. In a vain attempt to turn your bittering thoughts off your current treatment by who you once thought were acquaintances - you were hesitant to call them friends so quickly, and you guessed that was the right call after all - you turned your attention to the vacant seats littering the classroom. And there were quite a few of them to your surprise as you mentally tallied the total count, and there didn’t seem to be any one pattern to reason for so many of your classmates to not be here. Maybe the flu? But it wasn’t flu season. Or maybe it was just that they had too much fun over the weekend and didn’t feel like coming back, cause that would have been your reason as well.
The ring of the school bell broke you from your thoughts: banded classes were starting as evident with the scrapping of chairs against wooden flooring and scuffling of bags against tables, and you had to move. Leaping to your feet as you scrambled to gather your scattered belongings, you mustered what remained of your courage at the familiar sight of brown pigtails, turning with what you hoped was a bright smile. “Ah Aki-kun, wait for m-”
“Stop! Stay away!”
You froze. “I-”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know.” The normally mild-natured bespectacled girl all but hissed at you as shoved past you, another icy voice you never expected from another mouth you were certain you never crossed. “You did this to them! Just - stay away from me!”
All you ever did was to call out to her to wait so that you could pack. And she and everyone else left you standing there alone, your belongings half strewn across the table top with the other half messily stuffed into your bag. The cloudy skies and cool breeze that kissed your skin and teased your hair, coupled with the copious amounts of food and laughter you enjoyed with your friends over the weekend, now seemed so distant, a stark contrast to the bleak present you were in. You stiffly stuffed the rest of the items into your bag.
No one wanted to sit, talk or even look in your direction. For reasons beyond you, no matter where or who you desperately reached out to, the reaction you received was exactly the same. Different people, different classes. Nothing.
“I’m sorry for whatever I did.” You muttered, but it was really more for yourself than anyone around, your fingernails only digging further into already bruising flesh. “I’m sorry.” Being plunged once more back into miserable isolation was a difficult feeling to bear quietly; just when you thought, for once in your life, that you've made it. Yet all you could do was curl into yourself and mumble apologies under your breath to whoever out there could hear you, whoever would hear you. For what unknown crimes you weren't sure, but if everyone else agreed it was all your fault for something, who were you to disagree? You must have done it.
Time seemed to drag on forever, every minute an excruciating hour spent trying to ignore those inhospitable glares digging into your back wherever you went. At least the one thing you could be sure of, lost in this confusing world alone with your self-esteem falling off a cliff face, was that the clock still ticked uncaringly on, dragging you forward with every rotation of the second hand - it brought with it hope that this nightmare would come to an end.
Staring out the window, your teacher’s voice faded away into the background as you watched cars speed by to destination unknowns, the sunlight twinkling off reflective paint a mocking reminder of how cold you felt despite the afternoon heat. You always thought you had hit rock bottom before, but it seemed that that had been nothing but a false bottom just waiting to spring open. What were you even thinking? Trying to make friends as if you could? You failed, those whispering voices laughed at you repeatedly, their taunts echoing in your head and in your ears. You failed.
You tried to pull yourself together as best you could - perhaps it was all just a misunderstanding. Maybe your classmates had mistook someone else for you. But then why was this feeling of dread settling comfortably into your gut as if it had always been there? Or this incessant thought that all your friendships were built on nothing but pity? You failed not just yourself. You failed them.
It was a miracle you made it to lunch without so much a leaky nose, having barely held yourself together through the various classes and murderous looks that you probably deserved with nothing more than tightly pursed lips and a silent vow to yourself to not further embarrass everyone you knew. But as the clock ticked down little by little to lunch and you spotted the all too familiar mob of lilac hair settling just outside the wall of your classroom, you came to the quick realization that there was no way you could face Mitsuya without instantly bursting into tears - the same hastily, desperately, erected walls that you had holding back the quickly surging tide of emotions would crumble. The knot of dread and shame that settled in the base of your gut only grew and grew.
And then the bell went off.
“Hey!” Mitsuya stepped forward to greet you as you appeared through the doorway of your classroom, arms spread for his routine hug you never failed to return. The eagerness at spending his precious lunch time with you was clearly written on his face, yet you couldn’t even face him. “Let’s head to -”
Wordlessly, you shoved past him, reddening eyes and cheeks hidden in your sleeves, and you disappeared into the growing crowd.
You didn’t return to school. It was the first time you had ever skipped school too; ironic that it was this meaningless nonsense that finally broke your back and not the group’s persistent invitations of fun and adventure. Your feet trailed a path you knew so well, and you found yourself back at the small lazy river snaking its way downstream noiselessly - the smell of grass and flowers and water bringing back those memories of many happier days spent here with your friends, imagined or otherwise.
How could you face the others like this as an absolute failure? And those nagging voices pipped up once more - had those six boys even really been your friends? The simple question stumped you; what should have been a clear and resounding ‘yes’ instead turned into a strong sense of being stranded and lost in your own mind at the same time.
You didn't even know what you did to your classmates. Has your classmates' friendliness been nothing more than pure imagination? Then were Mikey's and Baji's and the others’ fake too? Could you have just been seeing their eager eyes and bright smiles in your head? What if they left you? Certain that you wouldn't like the answer to that question, you pushed it to the back of your mind like the rest of your pathetic existence as you huddled further into your jacket, desperate for some comfort, any comfort. Kicking a stone down the path, the river continued to flow undisturbed even as you failed to stop the tears that welled up and poured down your cheeks in hot streams, or the hiccups and whimpers that leaked from between bitten lips.
Even still, no matter how much you doubted your own judgment, the sunlight that tanned your skin yet failed to warm you didn’t seem to brighten your world as much as when you had been with them.
Stumbling back home alone wasn’t anything you weren’t familiar with, having done it every day before you met Baji and Mikey. Your feet were sore from hours of walking down alongside the river, yet they still faithfully carried you home, trudging the dead streets in the light of the evening sun. But so caught up in your self pity were you that you almost failed to notice all 6 of the boys already waiting for you, scattered in smaller groups along the street outside your house. You instantly froze upon catching a glimpse of that unmistakable gray checkered jacket from the corner of your dry, bloodshot eyes, but it was too late, Mikey having already spotted you, expectant gaze turned from the overcast sky to meet yours. The rest looked up when you meekly approached, eyes lowered and not daring to look at what you assumed was fury - at you? - blazing in those gazes.
For a moment, all was silent. Even the wind who had been faithfully drying your tears stilled in that moment, and you thought you fucked up this friendship too. It was all over for you.
But when a cold drink was thrust into your hands by a red-faced and mumbling Baji, and Draken rested a hand atop your head and gently asked you what happened, you couldn't hold back the tears any longer, your already painful eyes squeezing as a fresh wave ran down your cheeks. You couldn’t care less about what you looked like any more.
“I don’t understand,” you mumbled under your breath, delicate fingers white from clutching desperately to the worn strap of your school bag. “Is it me?”
Was it something you did? Was it something you said? Maybe it was just you? You didn’t dare look up again at the boys, a fresh wave of hot painful tears spilling from eyes already swollen from the earlier pity party you threw yourself. And the silence you received in response only seemed to align with what you always believed deep down. Pathetic. You must look absolutely pathetic, a sniveling mess in your crumpled uniform. This must be what your classmates had seen of you, yet there was not much you could do in the moment to change - to improve - that in front of the six boys you naively called friends. “I’ll - go. If it’s me.”
If they wanted you gone, the least you could do was pick up what was left of your broken heart and make sure you do your best to never let them have to look at you again. Maybe move across Japan, maybe even overseas. No one would need or want such a pitiful friend to throw a wet blanket on their day, and you understood that well. You wouldn’t hate them in the slightest for their decision.
A blink, and you found yourself engulfed in a warm comforting hug, familiar arms wrapped around you as best as they could under and around your bag straps. “Don’t be stupid.” Mitsuya sighed out, one hand running soothingly through your hair and a rare indulgent smile pulling at his lips when you finally broke down and started bawling into his shoulder, yet the boy barely seemed concerned with the growing wet patch on his shirt as you buried your shame in the depths of the soft cotton.
What you didn’t know was just shy out of range of your still fragile emotions and your cone of view, it was a breath of relief your six friends hadn’t even realized they’ve been holding that was let slipped and floated off on the light breeze, the tension that had been draped heavy over them finally lifting.
When they had first heard of you simply shoving past Mitsuya at lunch to run off by yourself through said boy’s worried messages and calls to Mikey, they weren’t quite sure what to think. Maybe it had just been a bad day? Completely possible, given that they did have a hand in contributing to that. But it was only when you failed to return to your classes after lunch (a first ever for you, you cared far too much about your studies to ever skip) was when the panic finally started to sink in, settling into the base of their gut like an uncomfortable glop. Instantly leaping to his feet, Mikey was barking out orders and everyone was racing to their assigned search area, fanning out to look for any sign of you.
Anger, irritation, anything that wasn’t you being back in their arms had all seemed to melt away from their thoughts as they combed the streets. Have you figured out what they did? Were you trying to run from them, break off your friendship? What if you left? Unthinkable consequences the boys were hesitant to even consider should thoughts have power, and chose to collectively sweep under the rug when such possible outcomes were brought up during their secret meetings in the shadows of Musashi Temple. How to plead their case to you was not something any of them was eager to find out.
But for all the anxiety and sweat and tears you put them through, was this all you had been worried about? That they, of all people, would be disappointed you couldn’t make friends by yourself?
“You’ll- you’ll let me know i-if I m-m-mess up?” You managed to whimper out between your adorable hiccups, flushed cheeks only serving to highlight bloodshot eyes.
You hadn’t even stopped to consider the one-eighty in your classmates, about your sudden shunning in school and whether they had a role in that. Such a heretic thought must have never even crossed your mind, and it was then that it dawned on them they could truly do no wrong in your eyes: not your beloved friends who cared deeply for you. And that was what they liked so much about you - that you never doubted them, only yourself.
No response was needed for such a silly question - you could never ‘mess up’ in any way that would matter to them when it came to not ‘making friends’ - and you were quickly and roughly yanked off Mitsuya by a grinning Pah, momentarily stunning you out of your crying as you were sent flying for a brief second. “Kazutora, catch!” Landing smack in said boy’s chest, the boy with the black and gold hair only had enough time to toss your bag onto a nearby bench and sneak in a quick yet tight hug before you were once again pulled away, a flash of long black momentarily blocking your sight as Baji earned himself a loud cry of indignation. Kazutora once more attempted to launch himself at you, only to miss and be sent flying at Mikey instead.
Your anxiety and tears were no match against the sheer force of your friends’ cheer as each boy took turns yanking and pulling you into their own big hugs, the tried and true exaggerated pats on your back and hard ruffles of your hair not failing to pull your lips upwards. “Bastards,” The lilac-haired boy could only shake his head at having you pulled from his arms, but the smile on his lips was clear, and he reached out to grab you mid-flight for a quick cuddle before allowing you to be stolen away again by a cheeky Draken. Hiccups morphing into giggles and into all-out laughter as you were pulled here and there, you couldn’t help the happiness bubbling up into your chest and bursting free, your face buried into various shoulders and chests (and a single armpit, courtesy of Mikey).
“What did your shitty classmates do this time?” Baji sneered, as he dodged under Kazutora’s arm, pulling you out of reach from those grabby fingers.
“It’s not them, I-”
Mikey cut you off. “Nah, it’s definitely them.”
As the others echoed the same view, under the barrage of assurances that you couldn’t possibly fuck up, not with them, the fear that had been weighing on your chest, that made it hard to breathe, finally lifted. Your arms grabbed from the sides by Kazutora and Mikey, you had no choice but to laugh along as you were all but mobbed by your friends, frogmarched towards their bikes for yet another adventure with them, something to clear your mind and heart they claimed, though you did pull away just before they could haul you onto the back of a bike.
“Sorry about your shirt, Mitsuya,” You scratched at the back of your hair, your gaze darting between the wet stain on his shirt before and the dusty ground. “I’ll wash it for you, I promise.”
He only waved off your apology, lightly dusting your hair with his knuckles before herding you towards where the rest were waiting. “You smiling again is good enough for me.”
With the cheer and laughter that surrounded you almost constantly throughout what remained of the day, the niggling worries and anxiety at the back of your mind quickly melted away under the setting evening sun, the dying rays of light bringing with them your sorrows and fears. Even if the scars stayed forever embedded deep in your heart, there was nothing to worry about, you were sure about that, your mind once more building up the strength to push down the taunting voices that said otherwise. You didn’t need more friends. All the friends you needed were right here, with you. They did care.
“I can do this. I can do this.” You repeated under your breath like a mantra, attempting to steel your nerves as best you could. Going back to the mutterings and hostile looks behind your back the next day was tough, not after the previous evening’s distractions. Even if you were prepared, knowing what was coming, the first icy glare and your confidence was once more ready to crumble - this was a lot harder than it looked. But this time, you persevered, trying to allow the seemingly infinite anger directed at you to wash away with every step, though that didn’t always work. “I can do this.”
It would certainly be a while before you could walk down the corridor with your head held high, or until your self-esteem recovered enough to stop muttering apologies to whoever seemed even the slightest bit annoyed at your existence, but you were sure you could get there in time. You did have lunch and after school to look forward to now. With your real friends.
Relief. Pure, unadulterated relief.
That was all the boys could feel when you enthusiastically waved them off at school, your figure disappearing past the bend of a wall as the shrill scream of the school bell pierced their ears. You didn’t actually find out what they did behind your back - they had all but thought you gone, having left in disgust. And your disappearance, despite you returning to the safety of the group, all but sealed the fact that what happened over the weekend was nothing you needed to know. And you probably didn’t want to either, your fragile self unable to handle all the nasty, grisly details that they were keeping you safe from, sheltered and protected from the harsh realities of the sinister world out there.
The threats dished out almost casually by Mikey and the beatings dealt out by Baji, or the blood on Kazutora���s hands and the crunch of bones under Draken’s. It was all for you.
Despite their intended outcome being to hit where it hurt the most, in this case your feelings and self-esteem - they did know your personal flaws very well - the sight of your face red with tears, combined with the gut-wrenching sadness pouring through glossy doe eyes, felt much like a stab to their chest. The pain and fear smeared across your expression was almost too much even for these delinquents to bear.
“First time, last time,” Baji said grimly, turning to trudge the few steps back to his motorcycle as the courtyard of your school emptied of the last loitering students, though the sentiment wasn’t exactly echoed by the others. Even if the momentary pain that they put you through was justified in the end, the means was too painful to repeat. They could only hope that this truly was a one off, both for you and for them - deep down they knew they would do it all over again. Again and again, however many times it takes to sink it into your head. But right now, at this moment, this feeling surging through their veins, it was liberating. Your real friends no longer need to worry about any of your school garbage stealing you away from them, no more.
You were truly theirs, and only theirs.
Days and weeks passed in a flash, and you don’t think you’d ever been happier. The hours melted away like ice cream in the middle of summer, your time torn between school, friends and much to the dismay of the boys, work. Despite their insisting that you should just play with them, that you really didn’t have to work, you still had been taking as many errands as your limited time allowed. And any money you earned went almost entirely towards those bentos crafted specially for each member of the group that took a whole day to make, filled to the brim with their favorites, which you would have never been able to afford without the extra allowance. The appreciative smiles and the empty boxes you received in return made your effort, time and darkening eyebags all worthwhile.
Arguments and tensions within the group never lasted long with you present, easily diffusing their hot tempers and that itch to fight with just a crack of a smile or a small laugh that slipped through. Life was easier and a hell lot more fun with you around, and everyone in the group knew that.
Yet for all their effort day after day, no matter how hard your dear friends labored thanklessly trying to keep you away - to protect you - from anyone and anything that might steal you away from them, you still somehow manage to slip under their defenses time and time again. Be it a kind word to some random (scumbag, they just know it) guy, or an offer of help to a random passing stranger who looked the slightest bit lost, you could never seem to keep your attention where it belonged, and their efforts to intervene and keep you safe were far from watertight. After all, you were all just kids busy living your own lives, and keeping you within sight of at least one of them at all times wasn’t something that they were capable of at the moment.
Worse still, your tendency to wander off from them wasn’t an issue that your friends could settle with a one-off beating dished out behind your back. You were no social magnet, a known fact to all, so why couldn’t you stay in your lane? Why must you insist on exposing yourself to unnecessary danger?
It was one of those sweltering afternoons - the kind where the sun beating down mercilessly atop heads was enough to redden skin and foul the best of moods - on which it finally sunk in on Draken just how reckless, how carefree you could be. What was supposed to be just a normal patrol round your little neighborhood quickly curdled like fresh milk on stumbling upon you surrounded by a group of boys, his already wretched mood souring further. Rival gangsters, Draken’s mind filled in in the next heartbeat, the eye-catching logo decorating their large backs glowing lightly in the shadows only serving to taunt him. And then you, looking even more delicate against threateningly larger figures, a bright smile on your face as you gave directions to them, which only fan the flames of his growing temper, his hands unknowingly clenching into tight fists at his side.
Of all the days for none of your friends to be free to accompany you on your mundane route, of all the times to have this very rare downtime with no one scheduled to you, it just had to be today and right now. You were supposed to be on an errand for your neighbor, Draken knew that, a simple delivery. He checked your schedule yesterday, and he checked it again earlier today. So why weren’t you focusing on your task? Why were you going out of your way to help some nobodies again, exactly what they told you not to do?
The vein that had already throbbing away in his forehead was now on the verge of bursting when you saw fit to see them off with a friendly wave, and their reply to all of your your generous help was to fucking blush and blurt out hurried thank yous. Things that would have earned them a trip and long stay in the nearest hospital, but not anything that would be suitable to dish out in front of your innocent eyes. Draken was way past pissed, not just at them, but at you. Didn’t you know how hard your friends were working to keep you safe? Were you just spitting in their faces?
“Hey.” Hand shooting out to grab at your arm, fingers instinctively tightening around flesh like they always did in a fight, though the initial harsh grip he had all but crushing you quickly softened when you seemed to jump at the sudden onset of pain, panic clear on your face as you whirled around.
“I’m sor- oh! Ken-chin!”
The fear was quickly replaced with a smile as bright as the afternoon sun above, as if you hadn’t just ruined his entire afternoon, your cheeks flushed from the heat beating down on you. And the sight of your cheer was somehow enough to calm him down from his rage. Draken could never stay mad at you for long - not you of all people, with those doe eyes shining up at him. Instead opting to toss a mask at you (one of those things that he always carried around for this sort of emergency), you obediently slipped it on without question, by now probably used to your friends’ weird tendencies and habits when it came to being out and about you.
“You ready? Come on,” was all the golden-haired boy with the dragon tattooed told you. And you unquestioningly slipped your hand into his offered one, allowing your tall friend to lead you down familiar roads, Draken making sure to escort you straight to your errand’s endpoint (a friendly old man who ran a small corner store the boys frequented) and then back home, only pausing to send off a quick text to Mikey about his disrupted patrol. His hands still itched for a pummel, but not that you knew of course, simply glad for the company, and you waved him off from the porch of your house with a pack of his favorite snack.
It was only that fateful afternoon, for the very first time, that something stirred deep in the guts of your six self-proclaimed closest (and only) friends, a feeling that the boys soon discovered all of them shared. Before, with your classmates and your other little misadventures, it had been an easy fix to hoard your attention and your time for themselves. But they knew this far-from-little issue you had had always ran deeper than these surface-level interactions that they watch play out again and again - you were too naive, too fragile, too nice to live without them. Unable to stop yourself from helping any random scum you came across, unable to stop trying to find “new friends” you didn’t need and who were likely to take advantage of you and your kindness. They were your friends first after all, and they were the only friends you needed. They alone deserve all of your time and your care and your love - a finite supply that wasn’t to be shared with the undeserving. You needed their protection more than ever.
“A gang?” The six boys watched carefully as your expression fell, the mix of worry and confusion they had been expecting showing in those doe eyes of yours as if on cue. “Is that…um… dangerous?”
The night had started off as what seemed like just another regular weekend night, one of many they spent hanging out in the shade of Musashi Temple, sheltering from the light drizzle pattering the stone tiles just a few steps away from where you seven sat, munching on snacks and discussing the day’s events like you did every other week. But the mood had instantly shifted when Mikey had tried to slide the topic by you.
“Well,” Pah scratched at his ear. “Yes, but so are other gangs.”
“Other gangs?”
Baji slapped him on the back of his head, having spotted the wince Pah missed. “What Pah meant,” the black-haired boy shot the other a dirty look as he continued, though Pah simply ignored him. “Is that there’s a big gang that’s been harassing us. Black Dragons, Kazutora lives on their territory.”
Your gaze shot to Baji, the anxiety now written all across your face as you made to stand. “Harassing? Are you boys safe? Should we go to the police?”
It was Baji’s turn to get slapped on the back of his head, this time by Draken, who only tsked when the other choked on the onigiri he had just bitten into.
“No, no, we’re fine,” Mitsuya placated, tugging you back down. “But it’ll be safer for us to have a gang to fight back rather than trying to take them on individually.”
That was technically the truth, that the Black Dragons contributed to their decision - well, it was a partial truth, but there was no lie. They hated to ever have to lie to innocent, little you.
Yet at the same time, it wasn’t exactly the whole truth. Sure the announcement seemed out of the blue, impulsive even, with the way the idea was slid almost casually into their conversation. Yet the decision had already been made a few nights before on the true impromptu suggestion from Baji, and an equally unplanned unanimous agreement from the rest, away from the presence of your eyes and ears. But you didn’t need to know the whole truth anyways, just enough to convince you to willingly accept the protection of their new gang. And the night you agreed was what made the gang as official to them as it was to you.
“So does that mean I can jo-”
“No.” The newly crowned gang leader cut you off before you could even finish your question, those abyss eyes turning to fix on your gaze.
You cocked your head in confusion. “No?” You echoed. “Why not?”
“You can’t join.” Mikey pursed his lips stubbornly as the others shuffled their feet nervously, their silence only unknowingly adding to the tension they felt weighing on their shoulders. “I won’t let you. What if you get hurt?”
“But it sounds fun,” You pouted, yet they knew instantly that wasn’t the biggest of your concerns - knowing you, it was the all what-ifs running through your head, you probably thinking you could somehow stop your friends from getting hurt, stop them from unnecessary fights. The mere thought of that was enough to warm their hardened delinquent hearts, though feel-good thoughts didn’t work either on this boy. There was no standoff though as Kazutora had initially feared; you instantly caved, throwing your hands into the air in surrender. “Alright, alright.”
“So you won’t join, right?” Draken clarified, and you nodded contentedly, a light smile as you leaned back against the old wooden beam.
“You can be an honorary member!” Kazutora immediately blurted out, unable to keep the relief from flooding through his veins, as the others burst into cheers, throwing their arms around you and pulling you into side hugs, pumping the snacks they were holding into the air. The most dreaded part of this entire operation was now history, and with you behind their decision, everything else was trivial in comparison.
Now, even the duo-colored haired boy couldn’t say exactly why he had been so worried to begin with. You were you, after all, and you were happy just to be included in this new exciting venture with your true friends, accepting the honorary member status with equal eagerness and glee. Laughing as you waved away their assurances about how it was as good as being a full member, or how they just wanted to keep you safe by not involving you in their fights, or even how you would have your very own version of their uniform, your giant smile told them all they needed to know as you ruffled and combed your fingers through their hair. You seemed just glad not to be left out.
“You boys… haven’t decided on a logo yet? Not even a name?”
Draken ruffled your hair as he dug into an onigiri. “We were waiting on you, punk.”
And for the rest of the new founders, now with you happy and safe under their protection, the Tokyo Manji gang burst onto the scene like a storm.
Mikey’s birthday was one of those events that you had been expecting for a long time yet still surprised you when it finally did pop up on your calendar. You had pondered here and there about presents, but hadn’t quite come to any particular conclusion as to what to get someone like Mikey - maybe a bunch of taiyaki? Everything you could think up felt simply too normal for such a special occasion, and you instead decided to crowdsource an opinion.
A humid and hot afternoon, combined with the lack of the slightest trace of wind, had resulted in a lazier and needier than usual boy, though you were always glad to indulge Kazutora during his lunches with you as you did with everyone else. Relaxing the shade of an overpass and sheltered from the brutal heat, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to find the duo-colored hair delinquent cuddled in your lap, burying his face into your soft thighs while you run one hand through his hair, humming along as your friend blabbered about anything and everything that came to mind in between his whines for you to keep up the hair stroking. But the peace was momentarily broken when he brought up the issue of Mikey’s birthday and present.
“So I’mma steal a bike for Mikey.” Kazutora announced proudly. You had to admit his idea was on the surface sound and logical - you had known that Mikey came back from one of those road trips the boys went on without his precious moped, but you hadn’t been willing to prod too much into what happened, not with how vacant his eyes had been. But still -
“Absolutely not.” You chided lightly, lifting one hand to flick the middle of his forehead and break his train of thoughts. Kazutora’s gaze instantly flew to meet yours upon impact, clear confusion swirling behind his sandy brown eyes.
“Wha-” No matter how sure you were about the little flick that hurt you a lot more than your delinquent friend, it didn’t stop the tears from starting to swell up at the corner of his eyes. You’ve never raised a hand against any of them before. Ever. So why him? “T-that hurts.”
You steeled your heart as best you could in the face of his upset, though the sight of his reddening cheeks felt like a stab in your chest. All you could do was truly hope that he understood your intention, that he didn’t hate you for what you were doing. “Felonies would hurt a lot more, I would think. You are absolutely not going to steal a motorcycle.”
“B-but Mikey needs a bike! And bikes need to be handed down to us by seniors… they cost so much!”
That was also true, yet at the same time, there was no way you could just let your dear friend waltz off into the night and get himself into unknown heaps of trouble. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you did, and you knew that.
Yet, you still paused before you answered. You knew what needed to be done, but the niggling doubt almost broke free from the back of your mind where it had been banished. Could you really? It was a whole motorcycle - not just some handicraft you could pop into a store to get some materials and knock something out in a few days. A bike would mean the world to Mikey though, you knew that, even with the what-ifs - you found yourself speaking before you could finish thinking. “I’ll get him a bike.”
The unexpected confidence took both you and Kazutora aback. “You?” The boy carefully echoed.
You forced out a firm nod before you could attempt to backtrack at the heavy responsibility, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes, me. I will do it.”
Though you weren’t quite done with this particular topic, the severity of your gaze unlike anything else you had ever dared level at your friends. “Promise me you’ll not go through with the plan to steal a bike.”
And a visibly frightened Kazutora quickly complied, the implication of not doing so carried wordlessly by the wind. “I-I promise I won’t steal a motorcycle for Mikey.”
“Promise promise?”
He held up his pinky finger. “Promise promise.” You took it.
Now armed with the verbal promise, the scary gaze quickly faded away - the few minutes of being that serious had already completely drained you, your fingers starting to thread through silky hair.
Tugging at the shirt of your school uniform, the flood gates opened once more as tears once more ran down his cheeks, Kazutora rubbing at where you had struck him earlier. “I-it hurts-s, I want kisses.”
“Okay, okay.” You finally relented. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
You were truly glad that your friends had stopped you where they did you mused, as you rounded yet another corner, the sky above having already been dark for several hours.
Even though you had given yourself extra lead time, and with blood pumping and excitement in your chest building, the week building up to D-day turned out to be anything but fun. Well, you did kind of expect that to be fair. Your friends, probably already having guessed what you were attempting, had barred you from anything to do with Mikey’s party, insisting that you focused on your present. Yet everyday still seemed like the longest day, and you stopped keeping track of where the sun was in the sky as school and work blended together. With your phone constantly ringing in your ears, and you always being on the move, the hours seemed to drag on forever, tracking every lead you have on a bike that Mikey would be proud to own. At the same time, the days seemed to wash by like water down your favorite river, peacefully slipping by one suffering minute at a time. It was endless hell running from place to place, and the phone calls from your various old clients with tip offs kept coming.
Your routine had all but gone out the window as you struggled to keep your searching a secret from Mikey; sleeping just the bare minimum of hours at night before heading to school, followed by spending your arranged time with the boys and rushing to and fro errands, before finally being able to restart your search when the sun disappeared from the overhead sky. Under the yellow overhead streetlights that lined quiet roads, and the biting cold wind that ate at your skin, you found yourself in places that you never expected to visit; those little alleyways that wound behind city buildings, speaking with people you never expected to speak to. Thankfully, everything turned out well for you, with every person you came across being polite and kind, pointing you in the right directions, until you finally, finally, had something you could work with. An older model of bike for sure, but the engine was good (or at least that was what he assured you), and the bike rode fine. And it even came with an unexpected surprise, the previous owner agreeing to sell it to you for cheap - just fifty thousand yen, which was all you managed to save up despite taking more jobs - in return for some mild favors, which you happily agreed to.
The bike was rough, very rough. Even if you did find exactly what you were looking for, the peeling leather and spotted metal was a clear indication even to inexperienced eyes just how many more hours of work laid ahead of you. You couldn’t lie about that, not even to yourself nor to the clock ticking down to the minutes to your absolute deadline. Yet there was no denying the pride swelling in your chest as you carefully wheeled your prize back to your small garage, amusement pulling soft lips up at how the motorcycle seemed to look even worse under the bright white lights that hung low from the ceiling. At least it started, right?
Retrieving a small case of tools, a heap of towels, and a beginner’s manual to motorcycles that had seen better days, you got to work. Just five days left, and at this point, you weren’t sure if you would make it.
Cross fingers.
Pulling every string and connection you had painstakingly built with every errand ran, it was still a race against the clock to get the various bits and pieces you needed customized to perfection. You even skipped an entire day of school (secretly of course, Mikey couldn’t find out) just to rush to the edge of town to pick up some expedited parts for your build. Bicycle skidding to a halt, you found the store owner seated in the doorway of his unlit shop, cigarette lazily held in one hand, a cloth-wrapped bundle by his side. Gaze rising to meet yours as you ran the last few steps, he carefully handed over your order, brushing aside the canvas to reveal its package to you. “Here’s your part. Lucky I had one spare lying around.”
Your mouth o-ed as you gaped at your reflection in the perfectly glazed metal, and you were sure that your eyes were all but sparkling when you looked up. “It’s amazing! Thank you for rushing it, ojisan!”
“Oji- hey! I’m not that old!” The older black-haired man spluttered indignantly, though the small smile he was sporting told you otherwise.
You laughed as you ran off, fuel tank cover tucked neatly under one arm, waving at the store owner with your other. “See you later, ojii-san!”
A few hours later, and you were ready to throw the wrench you had been holding out the window and bash your head into the wall, the light and warmth of the sun having long been replaced with the cheeky glimmer of moonlight and the cool breeze. How could replacing a single part be this difficult? Letting out an exaggerated sigh, you instead opted to allow the metal tool to slip to the ground with a clatter, bringing both hands up to rub at weary eyes. This entire endeavour had been a lot tougher than you had imagined, and this stupid manual did little to explain what you needed to do despite it claiming to be for beginners.
“Goddamn book,” you grumbled. You did have one out of course - you really hated to bother him more than you needed to, even if the former owner of the motorcycle had given you his blessing to call him whenever necessary - but this was truly an emergency. There was no way you were ever going to figure this out yourself. Picking up your phone, you took a deep breath.
A ring, two rings, and then the call connected.
“Hey! Sorry for calling this late.” You paused, sneaking a glance at the small clock balanced carefully on the edge of one shelf. “Were you asleep?”
“If I was, I’m not anymore am I? What’s up?” Came his familiar bemused voice over the phone, and you swore you could see the twinge of his lips carried in that soothing tone. Yet despite him not sounding the least bit sleepy to you, his soft breathing accompanied by the occasional clinging of metal against metal in the background that suggested some sort of workshop, you couldn’t quite shake the twinge of guilt that settled on your chest. How could you keep imposing on someone that already helped you so much?
“Sorry for disturbing you again um - I’ll hang up- ”
But he cut you off before you could finish, the sudden rise in volume had you wincing slightly. “No!” A deep inhale, before the boy on the other end continued, his voice once more even and low. “No no, it’s fine, you’re not a bother at all. I told you not to apologize so much right? It’ll get you in trouble some day.”
“Sorry.” You couldn’t help but blurt out again, your hand quickly flying up to slap your mouth in horror when you realized what you did - you were sure that the clap of flesh was clearly audible through the phone along with your mortification.
A chuckle, and then a creak; and that was all it took to distract you from the start of a downward spiral of anxiety. You could almost just imagine the boy on the other side of the line leaning forward in his chair, elbows pressed down on his thighs, phone propped against one ear. You couldn’t quite pinpoint why the mental image made your cheeks flush and burn, but you quickly brushed those particularly intrusive thoughts aside when his voice echoed across the phone again. “So why’d ya call?”
“Oh! Um-” You startled, nearly dropping the manual you had propped open in your lap when you tried to shift backwards on the small stool you were perched on, one slim finger running down the page in a hasty attempt to recall which part of the complex text you had been stuck at for the past hour. “It’s a bit silly, but I’m stuck at changing the oil filter.”
“The oil filter?”
“Yeah, the manual only - wait,” Flipping the page back and forth failed to materialize any of the information you actually needed, and you sighed as you let the page drop. “The manual only says you need to change it, but not where it is or how. I have a new one with me, but I’m super stuck.”
There was no reply to your question, your phone instead picking up the sound of hurried whispers that you couldn’t make out, followed by a few soft creaks of metal. His voice suddenly booming back over the speaker almost gave you a heart attack, but he did at least bring good news. “The oil filter’s at the bottom of the bike, near the front wheel. Do you have a torque wrench? The bit should be - uh - hexagonal-ish.”
“Let me check,” You sighed out, turning to fumble inside your toolbox with only the vaguest idea of what that particular tool looked like. This was going to be a long night.
Long, as you found out, was in fact a generous term for those few days (and nights) leading up to Mikey’s birthday. Because when D-day finally rolled around and the last bolt was tightened into place, it was pure relief that swept through your veins, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything more than drag your exhausted self straight up to bed and collapse into the inviting soft bed and pillows, only pausing to switch into a clean shirt. You fell asleep before your head hit the pillow.
But alas there was no rest for the wicked, and peace was not meant to be. Because boy did D-day start off with a bang. Literally. You were jolted awake from your sleep by the cry of your ringtone, and you fumbled for the device screaming away without a care from your bedside table. “H-hello?”
Your name was hollered through the speaker, barely audible against the rumble of engines and the very distinctive, very unmistakable sound of police sirens, and you immediately sat up. “Pah?! What happened?”
There was a scuffle as the phone was seemingly passed to another of your friends. “We got in a fight, but the police were especially fast today,” Draken laughed out, the wind zipping past him making him sound a thousand miles away. “Can we hide out at yours?”
“Garage’s open,” you replied automatically, and then the roar of engines flaring up before the call cut. Thank goodness past-night you had the foresight to hide Mikey’s present away when you were done, the bike tucked neatly and securely in a corner no one would think to look at (behind a shelf of books that is). One quick breakfast later, and you were off to school, content with letting your friends hang around - it was a strange choice all things considered to attend classes on this special day, given you had skipped out for less. But you had your reasons, and your classes were spent with your head nestled in your folded arms, fast asleep behind propped up books, attempting to claw back as much of your lost sleep as you could - today definitely wasn’t a day you wanted to accidentally fall asleep on. Never again, you swore, the all-nighters you had pulled repeatedly now back to haunt you.
As it turned out, your choice of small naps in school throughout the day was actually the right one, given how you were instantly ambushed when you returned home in the afternoon, the cloudy overhead sky seemingly out to taunt you with the ideal napping weather.
Your front door slammed open, the eager figure of Kazutora already halfway out before he could finish his sentence. “You’re back! Let’s go already!”
“H-huh? Wai-” Thrown over his shoulder and rushed off to your garage before you could blink, you found yourself being unceremoniously dumped into the passage seat of a bike and whisked off to god-knows-where despite never quite having the opportunity to set your bag full of books down, your Toman friends’ motorbikes filling every of your senses even as your head whirled with your lack of sleep and the quick pace of events. Didn’t stop your laughter from bubbling up and over though, as the chilly, blinding winds that tore at your eyes and ears woke you straight back up.
Somehow, someway, the entire day’s plan went off without a hitch. Entertaining Mikey had really been as easy as Draken had said, the boy overjoyed at being dragged from cafe to carnival and back to cafe, everyone having pitched in to spoil Mikey with all his best-loved foods and activities. You don’t think you’ve seen a person eat as many taiyakis in one sitting before today, though you only ruffled blond hair when he was finished - a birthday’s a birthday after all. And when night time fell, a very stuffed gang indeed rolled up to their favorite hangout on the bank of the lazy river, where you had secretly peeled away earlier to hide your present nearby. The weather was somehow amazing despite your initial worries of rain - the sky full of gray clouds that had been threatening to pour all day had finally moved along nicely - and the full moon had emerged from its cover of clouds.
You certainly assumed that you were being sneaky Mikey mused, following your back fade into the dark of the night from the corner of his eye as you attempted to tiptoe away from the group as best you could. Yet even with the rest of his five friends trying their best to cover for you and him being faced almost completely away from you, there was no way he would let you waltz off that easily - you were the safest with him after all.
Yet it seemed that his crafty agenda (or so he thought at least) was discovered almost as quickly as Mikey made it up, Mitsuya immediately stepping between Mikey and his view of you.
“Shut up, I know you know.” The lilac haired boy whispered urgently under his breath, following that up with a quick slap to the back of Mikey’s head when he failed to release you from his gaze despite you throwing a cautious look backwards. “Just play along idiot.”
“Fine, fine.” He grumbled, finally allowing abyss eyes to drift from you to focus on the sight of Pah laughing alongside Kazutora. For all his curiosity on your comings and goings, Mikey wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you got sad over your little surprise being ruined.
Turning his attention back to the group, even the whoops and cheers of the rest of his friends as they set off sparklers didn’t quite mask the sound of new rubber creaking and rubbing against pavement as you fiddled with something behind his back, though Mikey was doing everything he could not to turn around. Just a few more minutes, the boy mentally chided himself, and he was on his last leg of self control when finally, finally - the moment everyone had been waiting for.
A pop of streamers, and he was forcibly whirled around to face you and his unknown present.
“Happy Birthday from all of us, Mikey!” You laughed out, the barely held back excitement clear in your eyes as you tossed off the beige coverings with a flourish. And from under the seemingly plain canvas, the moonlight scattered across the polished surface of a gleaming CB250T.
The Toman insignia shone proud, a blaze of gold that popped out against the gloss black of the custom built fuel tank, somehow catching the light of the overhead streetlamp despite every inch of the motorcycle being equally cleaned and polished to perfection. The silver of the frame contrasting against the matt black of new tires, the brand of ‘Kamikaze’ across the front of the bike - it was clear that there was no shortage of love and attention, and a healthy amount of blood and sweat no less, that had been poured in to bring this present to reality. If he wasn’t busy gawking with his jaw dropped like an elementary schooler, Mikey was sure he would instead be occupied slapping himself silly trying to free himself from the dream he was sure he was trapped in. Because how could this be real?
Dropping the bike’s kickstand to allow it to stand free, you stepped back, the surge of anxiety having you bounce on your heels, fidgeting in vain to keep yourself calm waiting for a reaction. Did the boys like your work? Did Mikey like the bike? As the seconds ticked by undisturbed, you found yourself yearning more and more for just any reaction, your gaze flittering from one pair of eyes, the pounding of your heart away in your chest making it harder and harder to breathe. But for all the nervousness playing havoc on your mind in the single quiet moment before the storm, it seemed your worry was all for naught.
“Where did you- ” Was all Mikey could mutter out in the moment, stumbling forward to graze his fingertips across the cool metal, the streak of fingerprints left on previously unmarked areas only sealing that it was as real as him. Swinging round to take a brief glance at the rest of his now-oddly quiet friends, it was obvious that none of them were in the loop either, judging from the recognizable looks of astonishment reflected back at him, with Baji looking like he was on the verge of passing out, propping himself up against the safety rail.
Even Draken couldn’t seem to hold himself back from the tantalizing glimmer of moonlight in the pools of seemingly infinite darkness, his own black eyes swinging up to meet yours in shock. “Is that- ?”
You would be biting your nails at this point if your friends weren’t as vehemently opposed to the habit - it was getting harder by the second to suppress that particular urge. “D-do you like it?”
A moment of silence.
And then, absolute chaos - an onslaught as sudden and harsh as the unexpected wind that swept down along the small canal.
Letting out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding, your worry seemed a million miles away now as you leapt to throw your arms around an elated Mikey, allowing the blond-haired boy to bury his face into your chest even while you sent a secret wink at Kazutora. You did promise a bike that Mikey could be proud of come hell or high water after all, and the relief at being able to deliver was impalpable.
“Did you steal this?” Baji couldn’t help but blurt out in awe as he eagerly yanked Kazutora off the seat of the bike to have a go himself, asking the question everyone had already been thinking. “Where did you even get something like this from?”
“It’s a hand-me-down, I swear.”
The incredulous looks you got in response were clear enough that your friends didn’t need to put it into words, you laughing as you crossed your heart with a single delicate finger. “I swear, guys! Come on!”
“Must have crossed a fortune,” Draken muttered, squatting to take a look at the meticulously cleaned engine and the shiny pipes that made up the frame. “It looks new.”
You puffed up, a rare smug smile replacing the usual adorable one. “Previous owner upgraded recently or so I heard, I got it at an absolute steal! You should have seen the state it was in, I cleaned it up myself.”
“And the previous owner is…?” Mitsuya followed up, one eyebrow elegantly lifted as he watched his friends crawling all around the new toy.
“Can’t tell you that, I promised not to say. But it’s really a hand-me-down! Really!”
The Toman founders took your word for it - this was something they would never tell you about save you try to hide it from them, but you had a bad habit for wearing your entire heart on your sleeve, and the gleeful, shiny-eyed look you had gleaming from the depths of those wide eyes in the moment told them all they needed to know. You never lied to them before, and the boys had no reason to believe you would at a time like this either.
Grabbing the hanging keys from your smaller hand was child’s play, and so was wrestling a dumbfounded you into the back of the motorbike with a toothy smile. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Mikey roared, as party hats were quickly jammed onto everyone’s head and a helmet on yours. And off you went cheering into the quiet night, the goosebump-raising roar of motorbikes marking the start of the real celebrations.
The next day, although a school day, had also been slated for the after-party celebration. One day was far from enough, and you did decide to skip class again, given it was the first birthday that you were celebrating with your friends. Though this still couldn’t quite explain why everyone decided that the best course of action to carry on the celebratory mood was to crash your house. That was how you found yourself with your friends strewn randomly, haphazardly across your bedroom floor, most of them opting for just a comforter thrown over the cool wooden floor, with only the birthday boy himself allowed to cuddle with you up in your bed, limbs tangled and face snuggled into your side. Why your house you suppose you would never find out you thought to yourself, considering that it was Mikey’s birthday and not yours. But you didn’t mind of course, not in the slightest, secretly pleased that they liked your place enough.
Or that was what you originally thought to yourself, until the group launched their unscheduled attack on you, now refreshed and determined to get answers from you on your earlier stunt. In your own room to boot.
“Still not going to spill where you got the bike, huh?” Draken solemnly asked again, though you didn’t miss the mirth twinkling from behind his eyes or the amused quirk of the corner of his lips. You shook your head, only to quickly yip and try to wriggle away when Baji ran the feather you swore he pulled from your winter jacket up and down your foot, earning another round of giggles from you.
“W-wait! S-stop-p!” You squealed, and much to your relief, they did, allowing you to catch your breath for the first time in the past ten or so minutes of almost non-stop laughter.
“Gonna talk now?” Pah grinned, jokingly punching his hand.
“C-come on guys, I really-y-y - hehe - can’t tell you!” You pleaded almost tearfully, and the two boys who had been digging into your ticklish spots were already ready to cave, face with your watery eyes.
“Why not?” Kazutora chimed in, his head popping into your view from the side where he had been helping to keep one arm carefully pinned to the bed with his cheek.
“You know why! I promised!”
But Mikey had other ideas. “Guess we can’t stop then,” The blond-haired boy ordered, even as he turned his back on you to instead continue sucking on the lollipop you had given him earlier. “Carry on the punishment.”
“No waiiiiittt-“ Was all you could get out before the room once more filled with a symphony composed entirely from your hiccups and giggles and pleads for mercy, a joyful tune that didn’t fail to bring large smiles to all the boys’ faces as tears started to pour freely down your cheeks.
You still cooked them breakfast anyway.
The thought of your non-answers faded from their minds as the days passed by even though they never did get the information they had been hunting for - not with the thrill of finally being able to roar down city and country streets alike together a top speed, Mikey’s new ride a fierce black and silver against the dull gray of paved roads, you whooping from the passenger seat. You had never lied to them, and your friends were more than willing to give you the benefit of their doubt this time, trusting that you really did just happen across someone wanting to pass down his CB250T. Even the registration and licenses matched up, with you having made the transfer in ownership to Mikey earlier on in secret before gifting the bike, although no amount of digging around seemed to give up the identity of its previous owner. You really did a good job with hiding your tracks, and the boys had to admit they were somewhat proud.
But despite your Toman friends hoping for these good times to never end, their honeymoon period came to an unexpected screeching halt.
“I still think there’s someone else in the picture,” The duo-colored boy grumbled bitterly, sandy brown eyes turned up at the empty sky. It was clear the incident that had played out just earlier that afternoon was still living rent-free in his head, the bite in his tone hard to miss for the other five gathered round. They knew what he was referring to, given it ran its course right after a fantastic lunch shared in the shade of an underground passage a stone’s throw from your home.
“Sorry boys, gonna have to pass for today.”
Those few words had been enough to catch the attention of the entire group, and six pairs of eyes instantly whirled round to land squarely on you. “B-but you always ride with us!” Baji protested, knuckles whitening as his hand tightened around his personalized bento box, the plastic creaking slightly under the force of his grip. Were you hiding something from them?
“I’ll let you ride with me,” Mikey offered, though even that wasn’t enough to sway you despite the bike being the same one you had poured your blood and sweat into, and you shook your head. It was the first time you had ever done that to your friends, let alone on a day as ideal as this for a ride - hot sun and a cool breeze that blew away any trace of sweat.
“It’s strange I know, but I have something I need to do.”
“I’ll come with you!” Kazutora immediately piped up, as he scooted forward to make room for you to ride passenger on his bike, patting the seat behind him. “It’s faster on a bike, right?”
But you only laughed, turning his offer down as sweetly as you always had, as if you weren’t shattering his whole world with your response. “It’s alright Kazutora! I won’t be long. You shouldn’t miss riding with the rest because of me.”
“Where’re you going?” Draken’s unusually serious gaze bore into you, though you simply waved it off.
“A small errand I have to do. They helped with Mikey’s bike, so I’m just returning the favor.”
“One errand?”
“Mmm! Just this once, I promise.” That smile you always had never fell as you hopped the few steps away from the group of bikes. “I’ll be back before you boys realize it!” And then you were gone, disappeared round the bend in the road, a skip in your step and a tune under your breath.
But your eyes had shone with the same sincerity as always when you waved them off from the porch of your house, arms laden with empty boxes, promising to prepare a snack when they returned. And you did as you promised. They weren't sure exactly when you reached home, but the hot, piping snack was ready on your dining table when they returned.
“Drop it, Kazutora.” Mikey drawled, tossing the wrapper of his lollipop into the bin behind him without a glance backwards, before stuffing the sweet into his mouth.
In the eyes of the group, there was no reason to push this issue any further with you - you told them what you were doing and why you were doing it. Besides, their hands were full as it is, with Toman’s strength swelling in size far more rapidly than they had previously anticipated. Too distracted between organizing new members and beating rivals, they were more than willing to let this seemingly one-off event slide. You wouldn’t do anything horrendous to your treasured friends would you?
But then it happened again.
It always was the best day of the week when you appeared from the front gates of your school, bags of bento boxes slung over both arms.
“What’s for lunch?” Pah all but demanded, attempting to poke one grabby hand into the lunch bag, though it was quickly swatted away by Mitsuya, whose offer of help to alleviate your burdens was accepted.
You usually ate with at least one of them at lunch, but with the growing Toman and responsibilities that came with it, sunny afternoons like these were one of the few consistent times that you could see everyone together. Heading to the group’s favorite alleyway a stone’s throw from your school gates, you spread out a small blanket in the shade of the tall brick-lined walls as the boys yanked their own boxes from your bags, recognising their lunch by the furoshiki you always wrapped them in.
“Wait - fuck! That’s mine, asshole!”
One by one, the tops were cranked open, and the boys dug in. Yet even after all the various members of the group had their personal boxes, and putting yours aside on a space next to Draken, who you trusted to stop anyone attempting to have your lunch as well, you still had one box left in the bag.
“Ya counted wrong or something?” Pah-chin pointed at the remaining box, a confused look replacing the previous excited one on his face. “Ya brain turning to mush too?”
“Maybe it is all the studying getting to my head, Pah-chin.” You beamed, ruffling his tuft of hair slightly before carefully lifting the last box free and into the sunlight for the first time, the bento wrapped carefully in what seemed like a new furoshiki that none of them recognised - a crane print one with the elegant birds locked in an eternal dance on the silky cloth. “You boys go ahead, I’ll just drop this off and be right back.”
Before anyone could ask or even follow you, you were gone, leaving your friends alone and bewildered. What was going on?
You were cooking for someone else now? Wasn’t your cooking only for them? For your closest and dearest friends? Was this related to the previous time you flaked on their ride?
Judging from the irked looks being pulled across the faces of the various members, these incidents could no longer be overlooked. With no other way around it, your friends resolved to speak to you and help get your priorities straight. Even if you weren’t doing it on purpose, they couldn’t risk having you risking your safety through seeing someone else that they haven’t vetted. Or even worse, making new friends with literal strangers. You were bound to be taken advantage of with how kind and naive you were, and they must protect you from the harshness of the world.
And if you didn’t listen to them, well, that was an issue that they would deal with within their own world.
But alas, it seemed things were not meant to be that day, and the Toman founders instead found themselves being jumped by a group of delinquents in a uniform they didn’t recognise as they were steeling themselves for the talk. Already thirsting for blood - anyone’s blood at this point - their plan to corner you about your little side adventures was all but forgotten as your six friends flew into action under the shadow of the alley walls, the crunch of bones quelling their annoyance at being disrupted.
Noses were broken, guts were punched, and the newest Toman members were sent packing with their tails between their legs. Returning to a sight of the boys nonchalantly helping themselves to and finishing up your lunch, you could only bring yourself to only feel at most slightly annoyed at the empty box you returned to. Settling for just a sigh and a tutt, and sitting yourself down next to Draken so you could lean on him as support, you munched away at the sandwich you packed in case of emergencies like these as the rest laughed and joked and teased. You could never get angry at your friends.
And so life went on for you.
It had been days since then, and tonight so happened to be one of those nights that Baji found himself once more unable to sleep. Maybe it was the hot and humid night, one of those where the wind was nowhere to be found and all he could feel was the sweat building up and pouring down his forehead, where even the stale breeze kicked up from riding full speed on his motorcycle didn’t seem to help. Or maybe it was the bright full moon that shone directly into his window, the light of which he couldn’t get out of his head. Whatever it was, the fact remained that Baji couldn't sleep, and even after winding up and down familiar empty city streets, he somehow found himself back on his street just further down the road, near where you lived.
These sort of nights always seemed to lead him back to you. He knew you wouldn’t mind if he crashed for a bit. A hot drink and a few of your tired blinks and yawns might be the cure he needs to rid himself of this restlessness. Maybe you’ll even let him crash with you for the night; perhaps your arms wrapped tight around him was just what he needed to sleep. The street in front of your house was always quiet at this time of the night - your neighbors were run-of-the-mill families who had work and school to wake for after all - and the only sounds that dared to break the silence as Baji tracked down the lifeless street was the flickering of bulbs overhead and the occasional chirp of crickets.
Or at least so Baji thought, pushing his bike along until your house finally appeared over the curve of the horizon. And there you were, standing in front of your house when you should have been asleep. Yet before he could call out to you, ask you what you were doing up so late past your bedtime, his voice died away when he saw your delicate hands wrapped around a helmet that didn’t look familiar, to the side of a bike that didn’t look familiar.
Illuminated by the light of the full moon behind you, Baji watched as you handed over the helmet shimmering in the night, your lips moving as you muttered something that he couldn’t hear. And then someone accepting it from you, a boy - his hands lingering on yours for an unacceptable amount of time before moving to hang the helmet loosely from his handlebar.
What was this he was seeing? What was this supposed to be? You didn’t even seem to notice Baji, one of your oldest friends, standing right here, the look of disbelief smeared clearly across his face, white knuckles still clutching the handlebars of his motorcycle even as he tried to force himself to move. Towards you? Away from you? Anything but this. Just let go and move, he screamed at himself from the confines of his mind, chapped lips mouthing nonsensical words.
But all Baji could do was stand and stare, his body frozen for reasons beyond him. And the worst part? Their eyes met. Just for a moment as that piece of garbage looked up and away from you, turning to glance down both sides of the street, but he saw, and he knew. He knew Baji was watching. The absolute bastard, who knew he was standing right there, leaned in close and caught your lips in a quick peck, before pulling away. And in that moment, under the yellow light of the overhead streetlamp, Baji watched your face flush, your hand moving up to touch your lips - in shock or horror he couldn’t tell. Or in love.
But that jerk wasn't done. As if he hadn't defiled your sweet face enough, his filthy fingers moved to run through your hair in what seemed like nothing more than a mocking copy of the heavenly way you ran your fingers through Baji's, gently tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. And then turning in Baji’s direction to toss him one last smug grin as that bastard finally sauntered off, bike roaring into the hush night, all he could do was watch you - with his own two eyes - shly wave off that shitstain, before you turned and retreated into your house, a skip in your step.
Toman’s first division captain was bad at remembering a lot of things at school - math formulas, geography, whatever boring words his teachers had to say much to the anguish of his mum - but this was the one thing he would never forget. The face of this lesser-than-garbage who dared to steal his friend away that was now burned into the back of his eyelids. What were you thinking? How could you associate with criminal scum? Who knows what he has done with those foul hands of his that he touched you with so casually?
Now, more than ever, Baji couldn't bear to leave you alone without them, to be alone without you, and so he forced himself to wait right there, hands still firmly on the handlebars, his bike resting on his waist. Minutes ticked by, one painful minute at a time, or maybe they did. The breeze had picked up between then and now; it was now a harsh, biting wind that tore at his eyes and tossed his hair. His brain was screaming at him to report this - the boy simply knew he had to let the rest know - yet all he could numbly think about as he stood underneath the streetlamp, white noise buzzing in his ears, was how much he just wanted to check up on you.
He waited until he could not, his bare hands freezing on his handlebar, until he was sure it had been long enough between that dickbag leave and him arriving. Your spare key was where you had always left it, where it had always been: tucked away in a soft cotton pouch behind a loose wooden panel in the wall. Stopping his bike inside your heated garage, the warmth on his numb body was but a temporary relief, his last refuge before he had to face the storm. The turmoil in his gut only grew and grew with every step he took towards your front door. Baji hesitated, his fist resting on your door for a few moments, the turmoil within him too much for just a moment, before he finally moved to rap his knuckles.
Hearing you sing out "Coming!" from up top, something about that cheerful note hit him wrong. Unable to pinpoint what it was that he felt in that moment, Baji couldn't help the tears that started welling up, even when he tried to force his indiscernible feelings back down. Was it seeing you happy with someone else? Was it your continued cheer even after you betrayed your friends for a stranger?
And it was to his mournful face that you opened to, Baji immediately stumbling in, wrapping his arms tight around you, burying his face into your chest, the tears he couldn’t stop wetting the soft shirt you had on for the night.
“Baji?” You didn't seem surprised - you never did - simply standing still and allowing him to bawl his eyes out on your front step, wrapping your arms around him, gently stroking the back of his head and humming quietly to him. “You okay?”
He didn't even need to ask to stay; you bundled him into your room, your comforting arms wrapped around him as you ushered him to the low coffee table he knew so well. “Sit, okay? I’ll be right back.” Your low voice seemed to linger in your still bedroom as you disappeared out the door, leaving Baji frighteningly alone with his own thoughts.
And you were; with two mugs of hot chocolate in hand, the two of you silently sharing a drink in the darkness of your room, with only the occasional sniffle and the whistle of wind through your open window breaking the silence. You weren't like that, was what rolled through Baji's mind, as he crawled exhausted into your bed, you tucking him in under your sheets tight before turning in for the night yourself, the two empty mugs left neatly on your table to wash the next day. You wouldn't cheat on your friends- and definitely not your best friends, he tried to reassure himself, as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his head into your chest, your hand coming to rest on the top of his head. You were too kind for that, his eyes flickered close as your breathing evened out. So why didn't he believe that?
Sending off the nightmare scene he had witnessed was Baji’s first priority as soon as his eyes popped open, the black-haired boy guiltily reaching over for his phone even while you snoozed on undisturbed. This was something he should have done the previous night, but no one could quite fault him for this delay; the mere thought of you seeing someone else, maybe even having a boyfriend, it almost broke the boys. Panic mode, armageddon, there didn’t seem to be a word that could quite encompass the instant turmoil.
This wasn't something they expected. It wasn't in the calculations. They weren't prepared. When did this happen? Your Toman friends thought they made sure to scare off any that had even the most remote chance of stealing you away from them. Was he where you got Mikey’s bike? Was this the favor and strings you pulled? How long have you been seeing him?
Despite the emergency this new development had plunged them into, the boys had still planned for their initial inquiry to be gentle. You were delicate, and your emotions even more so; they didn’t want to scare you off by coming on too strong or throw around false accusations that would drive you away. Maybe just a few quick questions weaved in between ordinary conversation about who that guy was and what was his relationship with you. Something that wouldn’t catch your attention too much while they investigated more behind the scene. But all their plans went out the window when Kazutora, unable to contain himself, with jealousy and anger written clearly across his face and burning in his gaze, stormed up to you the next morning. “Who was that?” He demanded, though his voice quivered and his eyes started to water. “Who was that bastard last night?”
You didn’t deny it.
And the dam broke, with the rest of the group all but swarming you, each bearing their envy and resentment in their own special way. But you didn't even flinch in the face of your friends' raging insecurities, allowing them to pull at your limbs and rant and seethe and pout at you. Draken and Mitsuya with their standoffish attitude, content with seething internally and throwing you dirty looks through narrowed eyes, Pah-chin and Baji getting louder and louder trying to convince you of something you couldn’t quite make out, and Mikey and Kazutora all but yanking at your arms, their silent pleading conveyed through their shiny eyes.
To a certain extent, you could say that you were used to this - they did act up like this occasionally, especially when they wanted time that you couldn’t give them. This round was definitely what counted as an escalated tantrum, but you couldn’t really blame them in the end. It was your fault for hiding this from them, and you did feel guilty. Yet at the same time, you couldn’t say for sure why they were reacting so harshly. Weren’t they glad that you made a new friend all by yourself?
“What’s wrong?” You soothed their grasping hands. “I don’t understand yet, but I’ll listen.” What was it about your newest friend that they didn’t like?
He was part of a different gang, they tried to tell you, as you stood there patiently, soothingly. Riding under a different banner, fighting for a different leader. A rival; to Toman, to them, and to you. “You can’t see him! He’s not Toman!” Mikey insisted. What if he was just using you to get to them? What if he hurts you? Couldn't you see that?
Trying your best to calm them down, you allowed them to pull at your shirt even as you ran your fingers through their hair, pulling others into a hug and into your lap even as you answered their questions. Yes he did ask you on a date in return for his help with the bike - or rather, in return for his bike, you thought to yourself - but it was nothing serious. He just wanted to know you better, and vice versa. Yes, you also knew he was part of a different gang, clear from the insignia of his bike, but he never did bring it up nor hang it over your head, so you didn't either. And no, you didn’t like him that way, and him being there was no way diminishing how important your friends were to you. Hell, you could even say outright that he was in no way as important to you as your friends.
“Just let me give him a chance,” yet you continued to plead on behalf of what they saw as literal trash, refusing to let up and just compile like you always did before. “It’s nothing serious I swear. He won’t get in the way at all.”
Your street was busy as it always was at this time of the day, the rumble of cars and trample of feet as your neighbors returned home after a long day, having long learnt to ignore the mass of bikes and people gathered on the porch of your house. You couldn’t seem to understand what they were trying to tell you - it wasn’t just about the very limited time you had to spend with them and your priceless love and attention that this scumbag was stealing away from them. You - your entire self - was actively being taken away from them, and you didn’t even seem to fight it? Were you trying to leave?
“Then why?” Draken raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest in his clearest sign of displeasure.
You sighed, running one hand through your hair. “It was a promise I made, and you know I don’t like breaking promises. He helped a lot with your bike, you know.”
“I don’t care. I said no, and that means no.” Mikey huffed, brushing off the hand you had resting on his shoulder.
But you were still relentless, those doe eyes of yours shimmering with hope that they simply couldn’t understand. “Come on, you guys trust me, don’t you? Just this once, please? I promise I won’t do anything weird.”
They could do nothing but watch you thank them for their concern, waving a quick bye at them before disappearing into your house, a spring still in your step as if nothing wrong had happened. As if you hadn’t just tried to forsake whatever they had so painstakingly built for you for some stranger you didn’t know. They had failed you. You had failed them.
Where was your loyalty to Toman? To them?
With no other option open to them, it seemed that yet again, they had to take matters into their own hands no matter how much they rather not have to. It was all for your own good, of course - having to interfere in your personal life hurts them as much as it hurts you, watching your face twist with sorrow when you are abandoned yet again by what you had thought was a new friend. But your naivety, which had been what endeared you to them to begin with, was getting in the way of your usual steadfast logic and reasoning, and none of your friends was quite ready to see you lose that aspect that they loved so much. But as it was always the case when it came to you, it seemed that the six boys would have to be the one to step up and protect you once more, as friends should.
At least one small mercy granted by whoever was watching over you was that your new so-called friend was also a delinquent. And that carried with it the ability to settle things their way. You wouldn’t even complain either - you never did when they fought with other gangs after all, so why would this be different?
Toman, with its expanded membership and Mikey its unquestioned head, could theoretically easily keep you under watch throughout all hours of the day, but needless to say, its founding members were reluctant to let anyone else come close to you. No, they couldn’t risk it, not when you already showed your ability to wander off from them at a drop of a hat. Even if your friends did try their best to occupy as much of your time as they could, to the point of letting you dip your toes into their world, allowing you to sit at their meetings with the hope that if you saw just how dark, how violent their world and their rivals were, maybe it’ll open your eyes in a way their words couldn’t.
And while they waited for any signs of effectiveness, between the six of them, it was agreed that they would each take turns to watch you when you were away from their side. No actions were to be taken in front of you though - you didn’t need to see that side of them yet.
“Fuck, let go of me Ken-chin! I’ll kill him!” But that vow was almost already broken on the first day almost as soon as it had begun, starting with a near miss when Draken had to physically wrestle Mikey from leaving their little hideout and handing out one of his nuclear kicks. Two pairs of black eyes had watched in utter contempt as you gently rested your head on his shoulder, as if you already felt safe enough around this absolute stranger like you were around them. And the other just…let you. No brushing you off, no jerking back. Like how your Toman friends let you. Though all they could do was continue to watch as that dirtbag picked away at the bento you had made, wrapped in that same crane-printed furoshiki they have come to despise, when he suddenly put aside the box to pull you into his lap.
You giggled - giggled - when he rested his chin atop your head, arms wrapped around your waist, allowing you to swing your legs freely from where you were perched, the light breeze tossing your hair about, content with hand-feeding the jerk, your body language screaming nothing but being relaxed in his grasp. Mikey’s face was void of emotions when Draken finally let him go, long after you had left hand in hand with that jerk, but Draken recognised the wrath that blazed behind those eyes too well. It was, after all, a clear reflection of his own.
Similarly, Baji had to knock Kazutora straight out cold before he could outright shank the shitstain running their lives, your life, after having to spend an entire afternoon observing you hand feeding lunch to him. An afternoon that you had originally scheduled for errands, time that was theirs, now gone, instead devoted to entertaining a bastard that didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone bathe in your gentle gaze like they did.
Even Mitsuya, the most level-headed, laidback founding member of Toman, had been all but fuming by the end of his shift, his normal calmness gone, replaced with a cold fury that burned deep in his eyes as he stormed off past Pah-chin. Nails dug into his palms and an unbearable thirst for blood raging in his chest after spending an afternoon following you around at a fair, the usually calm lilac-haired boy wanting nothing more than to tear out and feast on the eyes of that imbecile you let kiss ice cream off your reddened cheek, fingers tightly intertwined with his.
You had been their stability from the start, the hidden glue that held Toman together. It had always been you. Being there for them through the ups and downs, steadily carrying and pushing them forward no matter what happened, soothing away their anger and frustrations. Without you there, silently cheering them on when they were victorious and comforting them when they weren't, none of them could say whether there would even be a Toman. But now with the road to leaving them behind in the past open to you, the world that they had wanted to build with you, for you, was threatening to crumble.
No. None of the six needed to speak, yet the singular thought echoed through each and every of their minds. You couldn’t possibly survive in this harsh and cruel world without them. Not kind, naive you. And they couldn’t fathom a life without you by their side. The Tokyo Manji Gang wouldn't allow this. And them, as your real friends, wouldn't allow this. You simply can’t leave.
This was war.
#tokyo revengers#yandere tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#yandere tokyo revengers x reader#mikey x reader#baji x reader#mitsuya x reader#kazutora x reader#kazutora#sano manjiro#keisuke baji#draken x reader#draken#tokyo rev x you#tokyorev x reader#tokyorev x you#tokyo rev#mitsuya takashi#pah x reader#pah chin#cheesus answers#yandere platonic toman
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Migraine isn’t a Headache Part Five: make it go away
I wanted to put something about getting diagnosed before I started to address medication, but the spoons to put my diagnosis journey together down on paper are much more than this section, so I’m skipping it until later.
(We’re out of Migraine Awareness Month now, but we are getting into Disability Pride Month, and chronic migraine is a disability, so!)
Treatment for Migraine can be divided into ACUTE and PREVENTATIVE
(and within that, can be divided into ‘medical’ and ‘complimentary’)
Acute treatment includes medication that treats the pain when you’re starting or having a migraine, like triptans, and methods you use to handle the pain, like cold packs
Preventative treatment aims to stop the migraine happening, so that you don’t need to use acute treatments.
Up until very recently (2021) there were no preventative treatments for migraine that were made specifically for migraine (until 2021)
(2021)
(That was three years ago.)
(Yeah)
Every other medication prescribed had originally been designed for something else.
As a result, you’ll find that a lot of suggested migraine preventative treatments are drugs used to treat things like high blood pressure, seizures and mental health issues like depression and psychosis – dosage makes all the difference.
This isn’t because they believe the cause of your migraine to be high blood pressure, or mental illness, but because the drugs also work to mitigate migraines – I’m only highlighting that because I’ve seen it suggested that when a doctor prescribes an antidepressant for migraines, it’s because they’re treating depression – this isn’t true.
Even botox was first used in beauty treatments before they discovered that women who had it also experienced a reduction in their migraines.
There have been no medications made specifically for migraine until the last couple of years, which is a crazy state of affairs.
And, even now, the meds that are coming out for migraine (CGRP mAb injections -nabs and -gepants) aren’t widely available, and not at all in some countries (India, for example). We don’t yet have access to the exciting new -gepant drugs in the UK.
(EDIT: As of 31st May 2023 we MIGHT be getting access to them! Exciting!)
When you present at the GP with a headache, and the GP diagnoses you with migraine, they won’t usually jump to prescribing preventatives.
They will usually prescribe acute medications first, if anything at all.
It’s not uncommon to be told to take high dose dispersible aspirin or other over the counter meds marketed for migraine.
These meds are usually your average ibuprofen or paracetamol with added caffeine, sometimes with an added anti-emetic.
Remember that migraines aren’t a headache, so your stomach can stop working or work inefficiently when you’re having one.
Prescribing an acute pain relief medication alongside an anti-emetic helps your body actually absorb that acute med while you’re having an attack.
In my experience, no GP ever suggested or prescribed an anti-emetic alongside an acute treatment when I first went to them with migraines, so be prepared to have to make that suggestion yourself, and to be shot down if they disagree.
The usual anti-emetics will be metoclopramide hydrochloride, or prochlorperazine (also used for schizophrenia and anxiety)
Sometimes, your GP will prescribe naproxen, or another prescription NSAID for your migraines.
If you’re lucky, your GP might prescribe a triptan.
I believe the most common is ‘sumatriptan’ but there are a whole host of them (rizatriptan and almotriptan might be two others you’ve heard about).
I’m currently taking eletriptan, which is a much older triptan and not widely used by most GP’s for some reason.
This to say, that if you’re prescribed eg sumatriptan and it doesn’t work for you, try asking for another type.
Another reason triptans might not work for you is the method of administration.
If your migraines present with a lot of vomiting, something that melts on your tongue or a buccal tablet that dissolves under your upper lip might work better for you than a tablet you swallow. Some of them even come in nasal sprays.
TL;DR – Acute Treatment - Medications
- Paracetamol
- Ibuprofen
- Aspirin (dispersible aspirin for fast absorption, 900mg best dose)
- Co-codamol (voted most likely to cause rebound headaches)
- Naproxen (prescription only)
- Triptans (prescription only?)
- Anti-emetics (metoclopramide, prochlorperazine)
- Other prescription NSAIDs (tolfenamic acid, diclofenac potassium, diclofenac sodium, mefenamic acid)
- US only? -gepants
You can’t take most of these medications indefinitely.
They recommend taking cocodamol no more than 3 days in a row because of risk of addiction.
You can’t take metoclopramide for a long time.
Almost all of these meds can cause rebound/medication overuse headaches
Not to mention the side effects these meds come with, or the stress you might be putting on your kidneys/liver/rest of your body.
When your pain is that bad that you CAN’T care about the risks of taking something that might make a little dent in the agonies, you don’t think about those risks.
The hard part is that you get to the point where you HAVE TO start thinking about those risks.
Taking painkillers all day every day every time isn’t sustainable.
I know, it sucks.
Maybe in the future they’ll come up with a painkiller we can take that will reduce the pain without side effects destroying your body, but we’re not there yet.
Just another happy part of being alive as someone with chronic pain!
BUT! That’s where ‘complimentary’ treatments come in. These come in preventative and acute flavours too, with a lot of overlap, but we’re looking at acute treatments this time around.
If you’re a long-term chronic pain patient, you’ll probably already know about all of these.
I covered “lifestyle changes” that might help headaches in THIS PART, and you can use those here (sticking to a sleep schedule, regular meals, staying hydrated, ugh, yeah, I know, it helps though), but, for more urgent relief:
***Little disclaimer, not everything will work for everyone. Maybe you have other conditions that contraindicate these ideas. I’m not a medical professional, just a dude who suffers and uses this stuff to suffer a little less.***
- Cold treatment (ice packs, sticky cold patches, running cold water over your head, cold swimming, cold gels in a tube, ice hats)
- Heat treatment (electric heat pads, microwaveable heat packs, sticky heat patches, hot water bottles, hot baths)
- Balms (tiger balm, roll-on headache gels, pulse point gels, menthol rubs)
- Aromatherapy (helpful sometimes, but just as likely to aggravate your migraine as not. Proceed with caution.)
- Hot drinks (I don’t know why, but a cup of hot chocolate really takes the edge off my migraines?)
- Cold drinks, with ice
- Massage/Muscle treatments (anything from muscle relaxant bubble baths to massage rollers to getting someone to rub your back for you, if you’re lucky enough to have someone willing to do that)
- Gentle stretching (you can find a lot online; look for post-operative/elderly/low impact stretches)
- Sleep masks/Sunglasses (get away, light!)
- Travel sickness pills or ginger caplets for nausea
- Acupuncture (there is a point between the index finger and thumb in the meat of your hand that is supposed to ease pain if you add pressure to it – it doesn’t really work for me, but it’s worth a try. I’d suggest Googling/YouTubing it. I have acupuncture needles and have been shown how to use them, so it might be worth asking if you know a practitioner you trust?)
I’m sure I’m missing something that will come to me later.
For travel, I take:
- painkillers and my triptans (and anti-emetic when I’m allowed to have one)
- travel sickness pills/ginger pills
- balm tin/roller
- cold balm/sometimes cold patches
- shades
I’ve also shaved my head – I usually go down to a Grade 1, but have gone 0 before, which was weird.
Hair grows back surprisingly fast, and having short hair is amazing for migraines, especially in the summer.
You don’t need to spend so much time washing/drying your hair (which is helpful when you’re in the midst of an attack and/or have comorbidities that make showering difficult).
You can also apply cold/heat treatments closer to the scalp, but be careful not to burn yourself (I am absolutely not speaking from experience…)
On a greater scale, just making your room (or wherever you go to hide when you have migraines) as comfortable for you as possible is helpful. Enough pillows, blankets you can kick off if you overheat, a fan to keep the room cool but not cold, curtains or blackout blinds depending on how much light you want to block out.
I use a text-to-speech app to read fanfic to me, or I listen to audiobooks when I’m being photosensitive but can manage sound, and don’t want to be bored out of my gourd.
Has anyone else got any other tips that don’t fall into the above categories for help when you’re having a migraine?
Next up in this series: Preventative Treatment (Meds and Complimentary Treatments)
#migraines#chronic migraine#migraine awareness#disability pride month#migraine isn't a headache#spoonies#chronic pain#chronic illness#headaches
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idk when or if ill finish this and ive had a habit of sharing my unfinished wip fics lately so heres the sequel to the werewolf au oneshot i wrote (and that i also shared the first part of months before i finished and posted it to ao3 lol)
id say its a bit under halfway done? idk. it follows directly after the last oneshot and may be confusing without it. and its an unfinished fic so you wont be missing anything if you just wait for it to eventually be finished and published (even if it might be a year rip)
but yeah. this is the first half or so wip of "Howling Harassment" sequel to the kubosai werewolf oneshot "Lycanthropic Liasons"
has not been edited or proofread obviously cause its not even done
its 5.3k words, and warning for vomiting mentions. if you want to skip the mini scene where kusuo is sick (he doesnt puke in the scene but talks about having done so) ive bolded the start and end of it. you wont be missing any plot details with it, but this wip preview does end shortly after it with just a paragraph so if you plan to skip that scene you can just stop reading at the first bolded part and be fine
enjoy i guess
also my italics didnt copy over so :shrug: place them where you think they go
Kusuo had been enjoying a very nice nap, relaxing peacefully and soaking in some warm sunshine, when the feeling of something wet dripping onto him slowly roused him from his slumber.
He blearily opened one eye but then immediately snapped both open when he caught sight of the tan wolf, shockingly with a normal looking chin, leaning over him and drooling all over his face. Recoiling and lurching to his paws in the same beat, he stumbled a good few meters away from Nendou, standing tensely in the grass.
They were right outside the makeshift and, honestly, poorly constructed hideout of Kaidou and Aren’s, and Kusuo had thought that if he took a nap outside he could both enjoy the sun on his fur and separate himself from Nendou, since the idiot would likely be enthralled by Kaidou and Aren attempting to play card games with paws.
Apparently Kusuo had been very very wrong. He sat down hard into the dirt and reached a back leg to scratch painfully at his head, like it would help get all the saliva off of him even though he knew it wouldn’t.
Nendou had been staring at him the whole time until a deep bark from the hideout entrance sounded, calling his attention. Aren’s deep purple and very furry but scarred head stuck out from the door made of blankets and glared at Nendou, having heard Kusuo’s mental distress. Nendou whimpered but strutted over to the entrance and headed inside.
In regards to the werewolf telepathy, since they were unsure if Nendou could hear them, attempting verbal communication without the ability to speak words was necessary to try and talk to the idiot who had also found himself lycanthropic by unknown means. At least they knew where he was now and Kusuo could fix any problems his disappearance has started to cause.
Kusuo was slightly worried as well that, due to the fact that he was missing all of the last week, Nendou couldn’t turn back like Kaidou and Aren had at first. Kusuo had been able to teach them by just instructing them through how he usually activated his shape-shifting, and it had thankfully done the trick.
He was still hoping that Nendou could hear their trains of thought even if they were blocked from his. He’d shown no signs of it, but this was Nendou. He could be hearing everything and not give a single clue.
Either way, it was still absolutely bizarre to have someone (Or up to three someones) reading his mind for a change, even if the fact that he didn’t have to bother with proper communication as much was pleasant.
‘It’s still bizarre to me that you’ve heard all of our thoughts up to now from when you met us, Kusuo.’
Yeah. That was fair. Kusuo lifted his head and gazed at the darkening sky that was many shades of orange and pink as the sun gradually lowered into the horizon. It was rather pretty and almost soothing to stare at. It’d been decently bright and blue when he’d gone to sleep, so he’d gotten a good few hours in.
That was good. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep once he went back home and dealt with what would be waiting for him. There was no way his brother had already gone from England to Japan in under twelve hours, even if their mom calling about limiter issues was fairly serious, but he’d still get harassed via television video call from his brother and either wait in dread for his brother to fly over or just teleport himself and get it over with.
Both sucked.
‘I think you’re over reacting. Surely your brother didn’t literally create something that turns people into werewolves. That sounds impossible. To be fair, so does being born an esper, but still.’
‘…B-but how else did it get…created?’
Kaidou was very bad at hiding his excitement at the concept of a mad scientist making something like lycanthropy, even if he posed his question as.
And also how he wondered if Kusuo’s brother could make him into a vampire instead, because when he watched a movie series called- ‘Hey stop stop sto-’
Kusuo snorted but obliged and cut that train of thought off, standing up and padding over to the hideout entrance.
Regardless, the answer was very much no to Kaidou, there really was no other potential source, and yes to Aren. Kuusuke was most certainly behind this and Kusuo was either going to make him fix it or commit fratricide.
‘…Can you…m-maybe-’
‘If he makes a cure I’m not letting you stay like this, Kaidou.’
Kusuo arrived at the blanket covering and stepped inside right on cue to see Kaidou’s best attempt at a canine frown and puppy eyes…the latter of which was quite a lot more effective in a literal dog form than it normally was for the boy seated on a pillow in the very corner of the hideout, front paws splayed over a bunch of cards on the carpeted ground in front of him.
He looked away before the eyes could take effect. He was getting far too soft and was not about to consider willingly keeping one of his friends a goddamn werewolf when he could reverse it.
When. Not if. Kusuo kept making sure he left no room for doubt in his mind. That way it would be easier to kill Kuusuke if he failed to make a totally guaranteed cure.
Aren was padding back over to the light blue wolf, a sulking Nendou in tow, and though Kusuo’s thoughts had already spelled out for the two of them that he was about to go home and get the confrontation or whatever over with, he still had one more pressing issue to attempt to solve beforehand.
‘Nendou,’ He projected outwards, staring at him as if it would help get his message across, taking a few more steps on the frankly uncomfortably textured carpet.
To his slight shock, the tan wolf spun his head around so quickly he feared Nendou would break his neck (A familiar sight, Nendou did that far too much, even if it had less of an impact without the…mildly disturbing human face), tongue lolling out of his mouth as he watched Kusuo expectantly.
Aren and Kaidou looked up, intrigued, their minds similarly surprised that Nendou could hear their minds just fine.
…Could he? There was a chance that had been Kusuo’s own inherent telepathy as it was hard to tell the two versions apart, unlike the ease at which he could separate the lycanthropic ability and his own shape-shifting.
If it was his own and the idiot couldn’t hear Kaidou or Aren that wasn’t that much of an issue. Kusuo was the one who needed to help him turn back, after all.
(Considering the fact that Nendou didn’t visibly react to any of Kusuo’s ambient thoughts about that, actually, Nendou was not connected to the werewolf telepathy. He can only hear projected thoughts from Kusuo’s. Kaidou seemed utterly fascinated by that, while Aren was just mildly annoyed at how it was so complicated. Kusuo was in agreement with his boyfriend, and not just because of that status).
Nendou’s head tilted after the good few moments of staring, and Kusuo realized he should probably elaborate on why he got his attention before he was licked or pounced on again.
‘Do you want me to show you how to turn back tomorrow?’
He almost offered to do it right now but remembered, bitterly, that they were all stuck like this for a good while longer thanks to the moon cycle.
To his surprise, Nendou responded by shaking his head no, slobber flailing from his tongue as he did so. He heard Kaidou yelp as a drop landing in his eye, according to his thoughts.
That was…not the expected or desired answer at all. Kusuo wished he could just ask why straight up, but he would just go through the options instead.
Aren had sat down facing the two of them, even though Nendou was still turned away from Kusuo and looking back with his head, face far too amused to be anything but smug.
‘I bet he’s going to already know how to-’
‘You’re jumping ahead in the narrative, shut up.’
‘…I’m what?’
Kusuo firmly decided to ignore him. Kaidou could probably use some help putting all the playing cards away, he not so subtly thought of but didn’t directly project as he looked over and saw the small wolf in question pushing around the cards with his paws to try and get them all in a small stack again.
Aren just rolled his eyes but turned away to assist, and Kusuo gave his attention back to the ever still and rapt Nendou.
Seriously, he kind of wished that Nendou had lost interest in their one-sided conversation during the decently sized breaks in it. That would be less creepy.
‘Are you saying no because you already know how?’ He asked next, using purely his own deductive reasoning and nothing else.
‘You are really something special, babe.’
Kusuo shifted in place, annoyed, as Nendou nodded. There was no bothering with asking why the fuck he had stayed like this a week when there wouldn’t be a reply. He just huffed out a breath of air and asked one last question.
‘Will you please turn back and be human again by tomorrow?’
Nendou unflinchingly nodded at the downright angry tone of Kusuo’s, finally spinning around fulling and raising a front paw up, curling it and uncurling it awkwardly.
Was that supposed to be a thumbs up? Probably. He could only guess that it was because the idiot tended to give so many of those normally.
Kusuo nodded to himself and walked away, putting as much space between him and Nendou as he could in the small hideout, ending up next to the other two slightly less idiotic wolves.
‘Slightly!? It’s more than just slightly!’
Aren just chortled.
‘Do you want help getting home before I go, Kaidou? I can teleport you and then make your family perceive you as human if they happen to see you before you’re able to change back. And, of course, make your disappearance today nonexistent.’
There was a worrying hesitation before Kaidou replied, his snout twisting awkwardly as if he were trying to bite at his lip, and he paused in gently nudging a few cards to the side and merging them with the growing stack. Kusuo used his telekinesis to grab them all and order them neatly into a stack, floating them straight into the box.
Kaidou blinked at him, startled but grateful, but refocused his mind quickly.
‘A-actually I want to. Uh…t-tell them. I don’t want to hide it forever and it would just be…easier. To tell them.’
Huh. Kusuo had heard Kaidou’s mind dance on that possibility, but it had been thought about so little that he hadn’t expected the boy to actually decide on that course of action in the end.
‘…I hope it goes well, then. Do you still want help getting home right now or will you wait?’
‘I’ll w-wait with Aren. Get some nerves out. And go home when we’re back.’
‘Very well.’
Kaidou and Aren had taken to keeping spare clothes in the hideout, so that plan would work just fine for them. Kusuo had no need, he could just teleport freely around those two since his secret wasn’t secret between them. And, in all honesty…it felt nice to have have a friend closer than Aiura or Toritsuka know, as well as someone even closer but not family.
But for now he also was definitely not telling any other friends. Not until he was ready to actually do it on his own terms for once.
Kusuo turned around and walked towards the exit of the hideout despite not needing to in order to head home, but it somehow felt more polite to leave this way and then teleport.
‘I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then.’
Kaidou and Aren seemed baffled that he’d said farewell which was rather fair since he never gave those or said hello much at all, but responded in kind themselves.
Before he could make it all the way out, though, footsteps sprinted towards him, and he didn’t have much time to react before Aren shoved his face against Kusuo’s, rubbing them together like he was a cat instead of a wolf.
Aren’s expression was far too innocent afterwards as he drew back and somehow grinned, and Kusuo rolled his eyes and turned away, keeping his body but most importantly his stupid tail with a mind of its own still as warmth bloomed in his chest, grateful his face couldn’t flush like this.
He continued walking moments after, only not doing something to be polite and reciprocate because he needed to leave and not because the prospect of doing so like this was embarrassing.
He briefly wanted to strangle Aren when he heard his mental chuckle at his denial.
As soon as he had fully crossed through the blanketed doorway, tail and all, Kusuo gathered his energy and teleported to his bedroom, a location so familiar he didn’t even need to conjure the image in his head to travel to it.
And, as soon as all four of his legs landed on his bedroom floor, his television turned on and his brother’s ugly face filled the screen, telepathy canceler adorning his long blonde hair, some of it covering his left eye and the rest of it in a ponytail, despite Kusuo being nowhere close enough to read his mind. He bared his teeth at the image and intentionally raised his hackles.
It took less than a second of being home for his brother to make an entrance.
Fifty six milliseconds, to be precise.
Kuusuke sniffled, feigning sadness as his tinny voice sounded through the speakers, “I can’t believe my own baby brother is so angry at me paying him a pseudo visit. How upsetting, after mom called me so worried about you and everything…”
Kusuo just sat on his floor and glared at the television, making eye contact not with Kuusuke’s image, but with the camera perched very visibly on top of the television.
His brother knew he’d be slaughtered if he had cameras permanently installed in Kusuo’s or their parent’s bedrooms. But he’d been barely spared when he added one to his TV that only activated when he was video calling, and the living and dining rooms got actual full-time cameras.
“Hmph, no response? Not even a rude comment?” His brother paused purposefully and smugly, “Oh, wait, you can’t respond! Without your telepathy, since even with my lovely canceler I’m still far out of range, you can’t speak like that.”
A teasing glint entered his brother’s visible eye as Kusuo continued to glare, unimpressed, “Or can you? Come on, can you speak, Kusuo? Speak? Like a good dog?”
He had to put physical effort into swallowing his growl, because that would have almost given Kuusuke exactly what he wanted. His bedroom sat in silence as they had an impromptu, or really, with his brother, expected competition to see who’s resolve gave first.
Kuusuke didn’t bother to try very hard, giving up with a shrug quickly because as much as he liked to make fun of his brother and attempt to win at every little thing, proper competition or not, they shared the same trait of impatience.
Kusuo’s patience was better overall, though. It had to be, growing up with his powers and all.
“I will say, it is a lot harder to decipher what you want to say like this. I’ve mastered your blank human expression, obviously, but I am very much not a canine person. Maybe I should have made werecats instead…”
Kusuo didn’t even bother to hide his growl that time, narrowing his eyes and translating his words clearly enough that his brother was easily able to garner the meaning when given more information than an empty glare.
“Oh? Am I responsible for you and your friend’s predicament? Obviously. To be completely truthful, though, you were never supposed to find out, and you were especially not supposed get infected yourself.”
Kusuo tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes narrowed to hopefully keep his skepticism clear.
His brother laughed at first, “Aw, you look adorable like that. It barely looks like you’re angry,” Kusuo snapped his head back up instantly, “But no, I am not lying. That’s why I kidnapped and gave the virus to your brainless friend initially, so you wouldn’t hear any thoughts about it.”
Kuusuke paused to wave a hand dismissively at the question Kusuo didn’t even try to ask, anticipating the obvious.
“I never left London and your friend never left Japan, either. I had robots kidnap and inject him with the serum I had mailed to a private lab I own in the area beforehand. It was easier and I had no risk of getting infected myself. What I failed to realize is that your little pet idiot could break out of a room made of solid steel walls and take off the tracking collar in the process.”
The screen briefly flickered to an image of, presumably, the room Nendou had been held in. There was a large hole in one of the gray, metal walls, opening straight into the outside, and the image barely lasted a few seconds before his brother was back in view.
Ah. Kusuo didn’t think that was possible either, but this was Nendou they were talking about, who has done countless other inhuman feats like his stunt in the school marathon. If Kusuo didn’t know any better, he’d say that Nendou also had psychic abilities.
“Anyways, I’m sure you’re wanting my help with this…issue of yours?” Kuusuke questioned, not leaving room for Kusuo to respond before continuing.
Not that Kusuo would have replied anyways, but the implications were still rude.
“Why don’t you teleport over here right away and let me have a look? I have to admit, much to my shame… I have no way of making a cure without seeing the biological structure of the transformed state first. Otherwise I might be reverting things that are actually a part of your human body.”
That was the biggest pile of bullshit Kusuo had ever heard, and his eye roll only conveyed a tiny fraction of how pissed he was.
“Ah, you’re too smart for that, huh, Kusuo? Yeah, I actually don’t know if I can revert the lycanthropy at all, haha! I never planned to in the first place.”
…Sometimes, the truth hurt significantly more than the lie he had tried to get fed. Kusuo sighed, quite displeased, and stood with a stretch, walking right past his television and heading for the door of his bedroom, which he swung open telekinetically.
He couldn’t see his brother anymore, but he could, unfortunately, still hear him, “Cold shoulder, huh? I never said I wouldn’t try, Kusuo,” He paused mid-step, body halfway out of the door, “Teleport over tomorrow before school, since I really don’t think you’ll get anywhere near me transformed and you’re stuck like this until around six in the morning tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can think of. I won’t keep you anymore, mom’s about to call you down for dinner. Goodbye!”
Kusuo heard his television forcefully shut off with a faint click at the same time his mom’s thoughts grew in volume as they targeted him with ‘Ku-chan, dinner’s ready!’
He’d known dinner was ready. That was why he’d teleported home at this time and had started leaving the conversation when he had. Hmph. Maybe it was a little bit of intentional cold shoulder, sure, but it was mostly dinner.
Or at least that was what he’d tell his mom if Kuusuke whined to her about Kusuo being mean, because he was just being mean for the fun of it. It wasn’t like his brother didn’t deserve it. Sure, he said he was going to genuinely try and fix the whole stupid werewolf thing, but it was his fault in the first place so the effort overall amounted to nothing.
…Did Kuusuke say six in the morning? That probably meant the initial shift had been at six this morning, which added up. That was utterly ridiculous. It was from sunrise to sunrise on the day and night with the fullest moon. How irritating. Kusuo was very good at tuning out Kaidou and Aren’s train of dialogue at this point, helped by his seventeen years of experience tuning out telepathy in general, so much so that he could even forget about them, but their exclamations of horror at that time-frame brought them back into the forefront for a moment.
They’re going to be waiting in that hideout much longer than anticipated… Kusuo sent them a brief condolence. He sent himself a reminder to set an alarm for tomorrow morning so he could shift back promptly.
Abruptly done, Kusuo turned back into his room instead of stepping all the way out, finding and grabbing his dinner telekinetically and bringing it straight to himself, ignoring the silverware for obvious reasons. Upon seeing his plate float away from his table, his mom’s thoughts became rather worried, but he reassured her that he was fine, just still. Having issues.
“…And I’ll be going to see Kuusuke early tomorrow,” He tacked on as well, rolling his eyes at how that statement fully calmed her down in the end.
Setting the plate down on his desk, Kusuo did his best to hop onto his desk chair, grumbling as he landed and the chair teetered precariously before balancing. Doing that was much easier as a cat, considering he weighed around ten pounds as one compared to now in which he was probably a good bit over a hundred.
Mildly annoyed, he huffed again tonight, and started eating (And being a bit disheartened at how dull the normally delicious tonkatsu tasted. He didn’t have anywhere near as many taste buds as a human did, so it was like the flavor was distant and sad), debating on if even trying to sleep when he felt wild awake and irritated was even worth it.
Well, even just lying restfully in his bed would be nice, and Kusuo decided listlessly relaxing was how he’d spend the rest of the night. School tomorrow would probably be a pain after having to deal with his brother, and a mental break would be necessary.
If only he had his germanium ring to truly relax in silence, properly removing both forms of telepathy. As much as he was fond of his nuisances, it was socially draining to always be either in a conversation or hearing one, as the werewolf telepathy was louder than his.
‘Are you telling us to shut up?’
‘Of course not. I’m complaining to myself, not you.’
‘…Right.’
Back on track, even if he could wear a ring on paws, it was no longer functional. The initial transformation had taken his ring with it, just like his clothes, and it’d been warped and broken beyond repair due to Kusuo’s innate strength. If it hadn’t, he likely would’ve tied it to a string and placed it on his neck.
As it stood, it was one wrong tap from Kusuo away from shattering, which wasn’t good when one weak tap from Kusuo could kill a person.
At least in the fading hours of daylight as dusk transitioned to night, people were settling down; and while most people weren’t going to sleep, they were going from a busy day to a mellow night routine, and their minds quieted as a result.
Finishing his meal and barely stopping himself from zoning out and letting his brain decide to lick the rest of the plate clean, he squinted at the empty dish and activated his clairvoyance to see if he had any coffee jelly of equal value in the fridge.
Fantastically, he did. Thank god his parents didn’t splurge on fancy dishes and silverware. This cheap ceramic plate had the same value of a slightly high in value convenience store coffee jelly, and so he apported the two of them, not caring at all that his empty plate was now in the refrigerator.
Kusuo could put it up later, before his parents noticed. Probably.
The lack of hands was making Kusuo actually appreciative of the full scale of his ESP for once, as ripping the seal off of the cup of jelly was as simple as a flex of his mind.
His tail thumped against the side of chair from where it dangled downwards as he shoved his snout straight into the cup. The taste may be watered down and nowhere close to how divine it was normally, but there was still enough of it present for him to enjoy it blissfully.
When he finished it and licked the entire inside completely clean he apported the empty cup for a significantly cheaper but still good brand of coffee jelly, since eating the contents regrettably lowered the value.
He deserved two for this whole ordeal. Maybe three…
…Perhaps not three, actually, since it wouldn’t do if he ate too much coffee jelly while being unable to truly enjoy its delectable flavor…yeah, two would suffice. That reason was why he had avoided his favorite treat even when dealing with being miserable and shape-shifted against his will, but a whole day stuck as a dog warranted it.
----
Kusuo should not have eaten any coffee jelly.
His head and stomach burned fiercely but, at the very least, he heard little to no mental voices due to it being the middle of the night. Even Kaidou and Aren were fast asleep, evidently, since there was no trace of them in his mind. So he did get the reprieve of his headache was significantly less than it could have been in this moment.
His mom rubbed his back (Basically petting him but the comfort was something he would have gotten the exact same way in a human form, so whatever), kneeling down on the floor to be next to him as he sat on the same, chilly, bathroom tile, right in front of the toilet.
Caffeine was toxic to canines, as well as most other animals. Technically it was still toxic to humans but that was irrelevant due to humans having the constitution for it.
Wolves did not have the constitution for it. It made them very ill instead.
Yes, he’d known that, but he’s eaten coffee jelly in his cat form with no repercussions despite his biology being just as altered as it was now…but, on retrospect, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever spent the next few hours after those moments remaining in a cat form and letting that body start to digest it, instead turning back before that could happen.
His mom’s mind was frantic with distress which was fair considering she’d found her normally invulnerable son still transformed and heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet in the middle of the night after waking up from the noise of him teleporting and landing loudly into the bathtub at first because he’d been disoriented and nauseous, but she’d refused to let her mind come up with and ask questions until she was sure Kusuo was going to be alright.
She was a godsend, and so he decided to explain of his own free will so she wouldn’t start crying, which she was far too close to for comfort, flicking his gaze to the side so that it met hers.
“I’m okay. Or getting there. Dogs can’t have coffee or they get sick. I ate two cups of coffee jelly after dinner…I think I forgot to take the plate I apported into the fridge back out as well. Sorry.”
“Kusuo…” The use of his actual name was usually a bad sign, but now it was more out of exasperation and worry than anything of the scolding variety, “Can you still not turn back?”
He just shook his head, not wanting to explain that he wouldn’t be able to until a time frame that was far too specific for what he was still pretending was a power malfunction.
Kurumi just hummed sadly at that, continuing to stroke his back even as his scooted a bit away from the toilet. His stomach was still rolling queasily, but Kusuo was fairly sure that his body was done being absolutely disgusting.
He almost shuddered remembering how it had felt. He was beyond glad his ESP made him neigh immune to disease, because vomiting was the most unpleasant thing he’d ever experienced so far in life.
As he continued to pull himself back together, staring blearily at the white bathroom floor tiles, his mom asked him another question, “Would medicine help?”
“Even if it did, given my powers, I can’t take it like this. Human medication is a very big no-no for animals,” He sighed mentally and slowly raised himself off the ground, taking shaky steps past his mom and towards the open bathroom door. It was dark in the house, and so the hallway outside looked pitch in contrast to the illuminated bathroom, even with his ability to see in the dark.
The bathroom was, fortunately, rather close to his bedroom, so he decided against teleporting and padded slowly back to his room, pausing as his mom rushed ahead to open the door for him, leaving the bathroom light on in the process.
That was sweet of her, even if he probably could have used his telekinesis fine. He sent a quiet thanks to her and closed the gap to his bed agonizingly slowly, as his stomach lurched ominously whenever he tried to speed up more than a tiny bit.
Kusuo had actually managed to drift asleep briefly before this incident, lulled sufficiently by soft mental voices as he laid on his bed, and now he was even sleepier feeling. It seemed like getting sick had actually assisted in granting him some much needed rest.
He didn’t bother to shut his bedroom door, nosing under the covers of his bed until he was completely buried and comfortable, wondering faintly where his mom had gone when he heard her footsteps go downstairs, but overall not that concerned about it.
It was only when he had nearly fallen asleep again that his heightened hearing noticed her approaching his bed, and she called for him as she approached the lump of covers he’d become, “Ku-chan?”
He stuck his head out from under his blankets, the rest of his body curled up tightly behind him, looking curiously at his mom as she held a bowl full of water out at him, setting it down on his end table once she’d confirmed that he knew of its presence.
“If you feel up to it, you should make sure to drink some water, okay? Otherwise you’ll get dehydrated, since you just threw up,” She reached a hand down and stroked his head gently, and Kusuo nodded both to signify that he heard her and to dislodge it politely.
He knew that. He just hadn’t felt like getting himself water when he would have survived the night regardless. But, now that it had been brought to him, he crawled up on his bed until he could stick his muzzle into the bowl and drink as his mom turned to leave, wishing him a good rest of the night that he almost forgot to return.
Drinking from a bowl like this was mildly demeaning, but it was significantly less of a hassle than using telekinesis to drink from a cup was. So, since he was feeling very icky and wanted to exert as little energy as possible right now, he decided he didn’t care, tucking his head right back under his blanket once he’d had enough to satiate his thirst.
----
Waking up to an alarm at six in the morning when he didn’t have to be at school until closer to nine would usually be a miserable experience, but for once, Kusuo was downright filled with joy when he remembered why he was startled out of a deep sleep so early.
#werewolf au#akira scribbles#<- i guess even wips can go here now lol#saiki k#saiki kusuo no psi nan#the disastrous life of saiki k.#kubosai
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I just started one piece last month and I'm currently STILL ON ENNIES LOBBY...since I'm busy on school works and etc.
And here I am reacting to one piece Men I have been spoiled nor encountered in spoilers and mostly Tiktok and twitter. ( Part 01 )
1st up OF COURSE IT'S LUFFY
- THIS BISH RIGHT HERE REALLY MADE ME WATCH ONE PIECE AND SIMP FOR HIM LIKE HOW BOA AND BARTOLOMEO DO IT😭 like bro how can you not...(except the pre-timeskip 'cause I don't the FBI banging up at my door)
- Plus the way he never kills his enemies and him being dense asf funny to me, not to mention him having ADHD IS WAY TO FUCKING ACCURATE...
- AND HE'S TOO FUCKING INNOCENT ASF SKRKGKSNSNAAAAAAAA I just wanna keep him in my pocket and watch him smile at me like how he do 24/7
- Would 100% marry him (don't worry I'll fix him to go bath everyday even if I got to fight him using gear 5 nor fighting his simps and ships)
- I also love how he don't kill his enemies and just downgrade them like how what he did to bellamy.
2nd the cook and the swordsman
- Man...this two..well...I would not wamt to meddle into their banters like an old married couple...
- STRONG ASF
- To be honest I kinda like the pre time skip sanji but he grew up more fine after 2 years, plus I understand why he got unbearable during fishman island arc since he got isolate to an island full of homosexual people and even got into one LMAO but he slayed those heels and dress tho...
- As same as his captain THIS FUCKING SWORDSMAN ONLY BATHES ONCE A WEEK...SKRKGODJAJRJFJ I CAN'T WITH THE TWO OF THEM 😭. Also don't get me wrong..but I kinda find zoro more cool than simp cause I don't know what's wrong to my brain that I can't find him attractive...yet the way he handles women as equal to him is good to me...I find him funny and cool asf yet I find his captain attractive asf HOW 😭?!
- And the fact that I knew then as a ship first and their fanarts are just insanely good too 😭.
3rd Ace and Sabo
- To be honest the ever 1st one piece episode I had watch on TV when I was on 5th grade was the Amazon Lily episode where Boa simped for luffy and I got intrigued watching it because I kinda thought luffy would accept boa's confession LMAO, and by 6th grade I again catched a glimpse of Ace's death on marineford arc and I was confused at first why he got killed not until today wjen I saw some spoilers (By the way Those episode that I watch is a tagalog dub from a TV Channel in our country) So that's why back in the years that I still haven't watch one piece all I knew was Ace's Death and Boa having a crush on luffy.
- It's funny I learnt sabo from my friend who reads One piece manga where she was ranting to me about sabo and there I got curious and ask her what happened, and there she explained to me that Luffy has another brother which I got surprised cause all I know back then was Ace and there she was crying how handsome sabo was and was also crying because of luffy meeting sabo again. Back then I always thought that these three is brothers by blood and not by alcohol 😭.
- To be honest Ace's visuals back then was hella majestic but funny at the same time but after the re-animation he got babygirly-fied LIKE BRO HIS ANIMATION ON THAT SCENE IN WANO HIS TIDDIES GOT BIG ASF HELL IT BIGGER THAN MINE.
- Sabo on the other hand well I saw him in the movie Film Gold and Stampede First and also I took a little research about The Revolutionary army BUT WHAT CAUGHT MY EYE WAS KOALA...SHE'S SO CUTE AND GORG MAN...HELL I WOULD FIGH–ehem anyways back to sabo, yeah he's intelligence and strength got me shook cause how can he divide those fingers like that sjrkgks I wanna learn their karate too 😭.
4th Law and Kid
- Well knowing the social media the wano episodes are all over my tiktok fyo page and these two caught my eye since they are always beside luffy in wano.
- Except for Law I knew him on that edit of kamiya hiroshi's voice characters and yes I quickly went to the comment section to know his name.
- I got exposed to knowing him when my friend who stopped watching one piece told me that he often got shipped with luffy and boi after I typed the "LawLu DJ" there I got bombarded with some of their popular comic strips and fanarts that is sometimes questionable and sometimes sweet and fluffy and sweet and some others are traumatizing LMAO SPECIALLY THAT ONE WHERE HE USED HIS DEVIL FRUIT TO CUT HIM AND F HIM 😭. Plus the fact he kinda resemble my boyfriend that's why I found his visual quite appealing...EVEN THE HUMOR AND BRAIN IS ACCURATE LIKE ITS SCARY ASF 😭.
- To kid I kinda find him resemble to bakugo LMAO I DON'T EVEN WATCH MHA YET yet I find him cute and quite funny too.
- Not to mention the manga chapter 1063 and 1079 💀 got me thinking dark humor about then LMAO HELP.
End of Part 1 💗
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The Second Step - Chapter Nine
Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 3100
Warnings etc: PLEASE READ. I AM ALL CAPSING FOR A REASON. THERE ARE GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MURDER AND BLOOD IN THIS CHAPTER.
For those of you who want to skip it, I have indicated the beginning and end of the extremely graphic section with this: ----------
Other warnings: emotional trauma, anxiety, mention of past depression, panic attacks, implied sexual abuse
Notes: This is a ROUGH chapter, but these things need to happen in order for Reader and Mando to truly move forward. Somebody please send me cute fluffy things I need a hug after editing this.
Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.
It’s strange how the passage of time can change depending on the situation.
Suns rise and set. Planets spin at the exact same pace as they have for eons. Even the universe expands with a growth that is measurable down to the tiniest increment.
Yet time seems to speed up during periods of happiness and joy - days, months and even years passing within what feels like the briefest of moments.
And it can also slow to a pace that rivals nothing else in existence, the steady beats that indicate its movement seeming to pause under the weight of emotions like fear and dread.
If someone were to find a way to reverse that effect, they’d be kriffing rolling in credits.
The last two hours have been the longest of your life, and time doesn’t seem to be moving any faster even though the ship is now parked on a landing pad in Junkfort Station’s industrial sector.
You’ve been working up the nerve to tell Mando. You had said you would, after Takodana - promised you’d tell him if you were ever in a situation where your past might cause trouble. But you’ve spent literal years blocking out anything and everything to do with Junkfort Station, fighting to suppress the memories that threaten to pull you back into that dark place once again. Any acknowledgement of your connection to it feels like letting those memories win, somehow.
So you’ve been avoiding Mando. Like a coward.
The kid coos, drawing your attention. He’s looking up at you from the nest of blankets you’ve yet again made into your bunk in the far corner of the hold. That same place you’d set up when you first joined them, then packed up before you’d left him on Tatooine and re-established when you’d finally stopped pretending you didn’t want to be here.
A little corner of the world you’d started to feel comfortable in, despite the cold durasteel floor and the storage crates and gear and supplies all around. Even though the blankets were borrowed, it was a place of your own, in a way. Maybe because out of all the options in the galaxy, you had chosen to come back to it.
You haven’t always had a choice in where you rest your head.
Shaking away memories that boil just beneath the surface, you squat down to stroke the edge of a pointed ear. “It’s gonna be ok, kiddo.”
Those big, amber eyes blink at you with an eerie comprehension. You’ve seen that look before, a wisdom behind his gaze that doesn’t make sense in one so small. Sighing, you let your hand fall. “Yeah, I know. I’m saying that more for myself than for you.”
The kid chirps, raising his arms, and you scoop him up smoothly just as the sound of boots on the ladder echoes through the hold.
Mando’s voice floats over your shoulder. “I’m going to go see what our options are.”
You turn toward him just enough to avoid seeming rude but not enough for him to see your face, occupying yourself with adjusting the kid’s robe. “Sounds good. It’s uh, it’s probably best if I stay out of sight while we’re here. I can look after the kid while you get the repairs done.”
There’s a pause, and again time slows to a crawl, dragged down by the heavy pounding of your heart and the cold ball in the pit of your stomach. It takes effort, but you force yourself to look at him - the black visor is an anchor in the shimmer of silver armour, the gaze behind it open without being seen.
He knows, of course he kriffing knows, I can’t hide from him I can’t I can’t go out there -
Suddenly a warm leather-clad palm is cupping your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. The weight of it shifts your focus and time ramps up to a normal speed.
His modulated voice is a cool balm on your nerves. “Lock the door. Stay in my bunk with the kid. I won’t let anyone else onboard.”
Relief temporarily calms your anxiety, enough to let you smile, even if it’s just a weak curve of your lips.
He shifts, slowly stepping into your space, his hand steady on your cheek, and your heartbeat flutters for a different reason. With precise, predictable movements, he leans in and rests his forehead against yours.
The chill of his helmet on your skin, the warmth of his hand on your cheek, the scent and the feel and the nearness of him dissipate the tight grip on your lungs and you can breathe again, take in the life-giving air and his presence, and your eyelids slide shut as you fall into the moment.
All too quickly he’s stepping away, cloak swirling with his departure. But that brief moment was enough to give you focus.
You make your way toward his bunk, kid tucked snugly in the crook of your arm, silently repeating those words that have guided you through so many moments like the ones ahead.
I am alive.
I am safe.
I am going to survive.
*****
The kid finally passed out after who-knows-how-many hours, curled up against your chest, head tucked into your shoulder. He’d been restless, but apparently there were only so many times the little guy can lap around the bunk, peek into corners already explored, crawl all over you and the shelf and his hammock before boredom dragged him down into a fitful doze.
To be fair, your own feet are twitching with the urge to move, fingers tapping against the slats of Mando’s miserable excuse for a bed - says the girl sleeping on blankets over durasteel.
Snorting softly at your silent self-deprecation, you shift again, trying to ease the cramp in your lower back that’s been building since you crawled into the tight space. Not that you were complaining, the concept of being in the same place that Mando slept was exhilarating at first. Your treacherous mind supplied all kinds of images of muscled limbs and naked skin that you shoved away - Mando’s commitment to his creed along with the kid’s presence in his bunk probably prevented anything your imagination could come up with from happening in here.
The kid sighs heavily in his sleep, one ear drooping over your arm. You pat his back, the fabric of his robe rough beneath your palm, warm from his little body.
There have been sounds of people working all day, bangs and clanks and thunks and raised voices, sometimes just outside the hull. Not loud enough for you to recognize anyone, but you assume Mando is out there, too.
Which is… uncomfortably reassuring.
What does it mean that you feel safer with him around? You’ve survived on your own for so long, why should having Mando nearby make a difference?
You frown at the wall. It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t make a difference if he’s in your life or not.
A trickle of unease worms its way into your stomach.
Dependence will get you killed as quickly as complacency.
The sound of the crew door sliding open startles you out of your musings, gaze flying to the bunk door. One hand slips down to the grip of your blaster, strapped to your thigh, while the other gently eases the kid out of your arms and onto the bed.
Mando said he wouldn’t let anyone in.
But you’re not taking any risks. Not while you’re here.
Bootsteps muffled by the durasteel approach the bunk and you move into as much of a standing position as you can, drawing your blaster.
A beep and the whir of the door mechanism and then he’s there, silver and black and brown and safety.
Mando.
Letting out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, shoulders slumping with the sudden release of tension. The visor takes it all in, helmet tilting in concern, and you wave it off with a flick of your fingers, holstering your blaster. “All done?”
It’s his turn to sigh, leaning against the doorframe. “For now. Could only afford to patch it - the mechanics around here aren’t fond of bounty hunters and their prices show it.”
“Makes sense. You probably scare away their best clientele.”
He hums noncommittally. “Used the last of my credits. I’ve got contacts on Nevarro, for both work and repairs. It’s about half a cycle away.”
“Works for me. I’ll be up in a sec - let me just tuck the kid in, he fell asleep in my arms a while ago.”
A slight nod of the helmet and then he’s gone, heading toward the cockpit. You turn to find the kid curled up in a little ball on the bed, one ear flopped over his eyes, snoring softly. Pulling a blanket from his hammock to drape it over his little form, you quietly step out of the bunk, keying the door shut. The engines whine as the start-up sequence begins, and you start toward the ladder.
Nevarro. You’ve never been, once you learned it was the home of the Bounty Hunters Guild you’d avoided it just as much as you’d avoided Junkfort Station. But something had happened a while ago, rumours said the Guild had been attacked and no longer operated there, so what did that mean for -
The crew door suddenly flies open and people pour into the hold.
Everything is moving too fast.
You can’t track it - them - whoever they are, they’re everywhere all at once.
Instincts kick in just as a blaster bolt zings past your head.
You make a break for the cockpit but a human male appears out of nowhere and catches you by the shoulders. The abrupt stop throws off your balance and he uses that, yanking you backward then shoving you to your knees.
Pain flashes up your thighs and back. You cry out despite your clenched teeth - every muscle in your body is tensed.
Too many can’t fight them all -
Blaster fire, movement by the ladder, screams of pain -
Mando -
Quick, your hand flies to your thigh holster.
Just as the ice-cold barrel of a blaster presses hard against your forehead.
You freeze.
The man holding the blaster stands at your shoulder. His teeth glint in the light of the hold. “Smart girl. Be good and this whole thing will be easier for you.”
The slimy condescension in his voice makes you want to vomit.
The man keeps his eyes on you as he calls out. “Back off, Mandalorian. We’ve got your pretty little plaything. Give us the bounty or I’ll give her a bolt to the brain.”
Bounty? Mando hasn’t hunted since he found -
The kid.
It takes effort to keep your gaze on the man holding the blaster to your head. Don’t look at the bunk. Don’t let him even think about looking there.
You have no idea who these people are but they’re obviously not here to make friends.
Protect the kid. They can’t find him.
A quiet falls over the hold. The others shift, obviously reacting to some movement you can’t see. There are eight of them in your line of vision, sounds like three or four more behind you, back by the ladder.
Too many.
“Let her go.” Mando’s modulated voice is cold, words clipped.
The man scoffs. “And lose my leverage? I’m not an idiot.” His gaze drifts down your face, lands on your mouth. “Besides, I quite like how she looks on her knees for me.”
A feeling floods your body, hot and sharp and almost painful in its intensity. A feeling you haven’t felt in a long time.
Hate.
You hate this man.
He chuckles, eyebrows lifting in amusement as he meets your gaze again. “A little fire in you, eh? Well, we’ll have to find a way to put that out, get you ready for the slave market.”
Time slows, stretches.
Stops.
You understand several things all at once.
First, these men won’t leave until they get what they’re looking for, which will eventually lead them to finding the kid.
Second, Mando won’t risk opening fire with you like this - you’re too exposed, no cover close by to shield you, and you probably won’t be able to move fast enough to unholster your blaster and turn off the safety before the man squeezes the trigger.
Third, there’s a small knife stuck in the top of the man’s boot, not good for much except trimming or shaving, but good enough for what you need right now.
----------
Because you’re going to kill this man.
You’ve done it before. You don’t like it.
Those faces still appear your dreams, flicker across your vision when you see someone with similar features.
But you’ve done what you had to do, to stay alive.
And if this man takes you, you will die, if not by someone else’s hand then by your own.
I am going to survive.
All it takes is a flick of your wrist and the hilt of the knife is in your hand.
The blade flashes as it turns up, in, moves toward the man’s thigh.
Sharp point aimed at his femoral artery.
Pressure, resistance, then release.
The man’s scream burns through your body, boiling hot like the blood pouring over your hand.
The knife twists, deeper, heat raging over and under your skin and you’re burning alive.
Time snaps into motion again.
You reel, falling onto your back at the same time the man crumples to the floor, his free hand grasping at the wound in his leg, blaster rising to point at you once more.
His shot goes wide as one of his crew stumbles over him, running, frantically trying to escape -
Escape what -
A flurry of bolts whips through the air, each one landing its target.
Several bodies drop almost simultaneously, the dull thumps vibrating through the floor.
They barely register to you, a quiet background noise, just like the gentle thrum of the engines when the ship is in hyperspace.
Your focus is on the man bleeding out in front of you.
He lifts his blaster again. It shakes, but it’s steady enough to aim.
You’re surging forward before you realize it, twisting his wrist until the blaster drops. He cries out in pain, says something, lips forming words but they don’t make sense, they’re gibberish to you.
The knife flashes again and then silence.
Silence all around you.
Bodies are scattered throughout the hold. Nothing stirs.
A contrast to the fire still roaring in your ears.
You stand smoothly, stride toward the crew door and slam the lock with the side of your fist.
The fist still holding the knife.
You wait until the door shuts and the electronic tones confirm it’s locked before you turn around. The whir of the engines pulsing to life tells you Mando is pushing them through the take-off sequence.
Grabbing a strap that’s hanging from the ceiling, you brace yourself as the ship shudders, creaks as it lifts into the air.
Time passes.
You don’t notice.
The sound of the engines keening bleeds through a crack in your awareness. There’s a click and a shove and then a gliding smoothness, and the air temperature drops a couple degrees as the ship moves into hyperspace.
You’re still holding the strap. It takes some effort to uncurl your fingers and let go of it.
Taking one step, then another, you walk to the body of the man whose blood is caked on your hand.
The knife bounces once as it drops to his chest.
----------
Boots on the ladder.
Your gaze automatically lifts to meet the black visor’s gaze.
Mando stands there, a few paces away. Silent, still.
Watching you.
You wait, poised. Ready.
The fire rages.
“Are you hurt?”
His concern falls over the fire like gentle rain. Spitting and sputtering, dimming it’s heat ever-so-slightly.
“No.”
Did you say that? Maybe. Your own voice sounds foreign to your ears.
He starts toward you but some instinct, some part of the fire, doesn’t want closeness, pulls you back a step.
He stops abruptly, hesitant. “I’m sorry.”
The fire sputters again under your confusion. “What are you sorry for?”
“I failed to protect you.”
White-hot flame erupts.
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
Your words land like a whip crack and you know it probably hurts but the fire now flares out of control and you can’t stop.
“I don’t need anyone to protect me. I can protect myself.” Hot fire rage - “No, apparently I can’t. All this time. All these years. I have been smart. I have survived.”
You look down at the body, seeing but not seeing, because it’s not a body, it’s proof of your failure. “Everything I’ve been through. Could have been for nothing.”
Your hand, the one sticky with blood, flies out, gestures behind you vaguely. “I was there. The last place in the galaxy I should have been. And I was there because I followed you. I followed you when I should have done what I needed to, should have walked away from you before now and I didn’t and if he had taken me I -”
The fire burns up your words and you can’t speak anymore, can’t see, vision filled with red and black and -
Silver.
Cool and smooth, unlike the jagged heat that threatens to consume all.
It surrounds you, shoves its way between you and the flame.
Your hands grasp at it, clutching, desperate.
The fire smolders, smokes and fades away until it’s nothing but coals.
There’s wetness on your cheeks.
Something is brushing it away, gentle.
Long fingers.
Smooth callouses.
Hands that are often at work but always protected by leather.
Mando’s hands.
Mando’s bare hands.
Warm and golden and alive.
You turn into the caress, lips pressing against the wide palm. Your lungs fill with the scent of worn leather and blaster fire.
He’s speaking. Has been for some time.
Your thoughts churn to focus on his words and they slowly sink in.
“You’re safe. You’re alive. Listen to me, tionas. Hear my voice.”
As your awareness shifts back into your body, so does exhaustion. Your muscles tremble with strain, you stumble with the effort of holding yourself upright.
But it’s ok, his arms are around you before you can fall, and he’s solid and strong and alive.
Like you.
You want to speak, to say something, anything, but your voice is stuck, bound in your throat by a mass of unshed tears.
His hands smooth them away, gliding over your skin, your face, in time with the words circling in a steady rhythm through your mind.
I am alive.
I am safe.
I am going to survive.
And you believe them.
*****
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#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin x reader#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin x you#the world is light embodied
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