#i would force any thought of u outta my mind
Note
NABI I AM. Havin…??!! SO MANY THOUGHTS. about g!p ning mostly but like … i see so many writers talking abt sub ningyi but i lowkey see her as more of a service top?? professional pussy eater ning yizhuo? do u have any thoughts??
p.s. i love all ur work ur amazing mwah mwah mwah 🩷🩷
parings — servicetop!gp!ning x pillowprincess!femreader
warnings — oral (r. receiving), pussy whipped ning, cum eating, tummy bulge, ning cums in her boxers, ning calls you baby and princess, breath play, overstimulation, ignore spelling errors in this drabble, put this on queue btw <3
note — PUSSY EATER NINGYI ENTHUSIASTS STAND UP!! anonie you get me so well omg…enjoy my rambles of pussy whipped ning <33
pretty girl is just so obsessed with you and would literally do anything you ask her cuz you’re her pretty lil girlfriend <33
ning just can’t get enough of you! she’s inbetween your legs, lapping up your cunt. she lets you tug on her hair, trying to bring her impossibly closer to your glistening cunt and practically suffocating her with your plush thighs. but she doesn’t really mind because she loves slurping and eating out your cunt, her eyes are rolled back and she’s mindlessly grinding her clothed cock into the bed, making a mess of herself in her boxers.
she makes a mess on her face with your juices, but she loves it, she maneuvers between tongue fucking you and making out with your cunt, moaning into your cunt because you taste so yummy <33 that just seems to push you to your third orgasm because your moaning so loudly, back arched and holding her head in place until you’re squirting all over her face for the first time that night! her eyes are crossed and she’s cumming into her boxers with a muffled groan from just eating your cunt out alone <33
even after she cleans you up with her tongue, she’s not done tormenting you, because she’s wrapping her arms around your waist and going back to making out with your cunt, her nose bumps into your clit and it has you whining with tears threatening to fall out from the overstimulation! “ning— s’too much!” fall out your mouth desperately trying to push her away from your twitching cunt.
your pleas do nun but make her cock twitch in her boxers, she thinks your moans and whines are the cutest when you beg for her to stop!! but the lack of oxygen forces her to pull away, chest heaving while she’s catching her breath.
“one more princess, know you can do it for me.” she mumbles as she stands up and pulls her cum covered cock outta her sticky boxers.
you’re so overstimulated but you nod your head anyways, mumbling ‘i can take it’ before she’s sliding her cock into your puffy cunt with ease. eyes crossing once more with a moan drowned out by your high pitch whine, feeling her cock engulf in your cunt had her cumming almost instantly.
she’s pounding into you it has you sobbing from how good it feels, desperately scrambling to find anything to hold until she’s grabbing your hand and letting you squeeze it tight as she whispers ‘so pretty f’me, baby.’
definitely uses her other hand to press down on the tummy bulge formed by her cock while she’s pounding into you, making you squeal ‘nd arch your back. bringing you both to release as the two of you moan in unison, you’re squirting all over her pelvis and she’s pumping you full of her seed <33
#ningvory#♡.nabi speaks#kpop smut#wlw smut#aespa smut#♡.nabi’s anons#aespa x fem reader#ningning x fem reader#aespa ningning smut#ningning smut#aespa ningning#g!p#♡.ningning
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Hello there! So this is my first time requesting since i just started following you. So let me tell you, your Yandere Wild West Outlaw got me absolutley smitten and obsessed! i love your writing so much!!
Anyway back to the main subject and on with the request.
What about Maddox with an EXTRA Sassy darling. Like, full of and fluent on sarcasm (the kind that makes you go: DAAAAMN). The darlin' has a sharp tongue and retorts for any kind of bad words might be thrown towards her (and maybe, way later in the relationship, towards Maddox too). From really polite f-u's to tge sthraightfoward ones, she can reply and roast anyone.
Oh and a bonus head cannon (a little something that came to mind) after reading about the wedding rings. I can totally imagine the darling going from questioning about where Maddox "buys" all the weird gifts to just becoming immune, later in the relationship. Let's say Maddox comes back (to the temporary) home with a very strange object, like A very expensive porcelain/china vase and the darling just goes: "oh thank you. Please put it on the table. I'll be done with the soup and then take care of it"
Yea anyway i'll stop rambling now.
Sorry for the bad english. It's not my first language and it is past midnight here.
Have a great day/night ✨
We love sassy girlboss Y/n’s here. Thank you for submitting this request anon!! Hope it is to your liking <3
Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Sassy Reader
CW// Y/n is a bully, Maddox gets his ego hurt, Maddox gets angry, Maddox is dumb
Masterlist
Maddox immediately knew that you were a spitfire when he first had a conversation with you. You weren’t the typical damsel in distress who when captured by the evil outlaw you’re forced into submission.
Oh no. There’s not a drop of submission in your body.
Maddox thought you would be useful to have around. You’d be his own personal maid! Maybe even like a housewife. But no…
“Clean my laundry if ya’ wanna live to see anotha’ day.”
“Alright alright, calm your tits. What should I clean first? The shirt with sweat marinated into the fabric or the undies with shit stains?”
“THERE AIN’T ANY SHIT ON MY UNDIES MISSY! IT’S DIRT!”
You’re a total pain in the ass. Whenever he tried to act cool or intimidating you’d immediately shoot it down with your words.
He hates it when you ruin his moment in front of other people.
He got really pissed after you made a jab at him in the middle of a duel.
“It’s just you an’ me boy. But we both know who’ll be standin’ by the end of this.”
“Hopefully it isn’t you.”
“SHUT UP Y/N! GET YOUR TUSH BACK INSIDE, I’M TRYNA’ HAVE A DUEL!”
Punishes you by tying you up and leaving you outside for the night.
He ignores your complaints about coyotes or rattlesnakes. He needs you to shut your mouth and give him some peace.
After that night of punishment though he noticed how you wouldn’t really talk to him often.
“Go shine my boots. And I don’t wanna hear a single complaint outta ya’.”
“Okay.”
“…”
Okaay so he fucked up.
The days drag on so slow without your quips and jabs! He never realized how funny the things you said are now that you’re gone.
Well you’re not gone, just more closed off now. But you may as well be gone. This isn’t like you at all to be so quiet and reclusive!
Maybe he was too rough in you? He did kill your Father and force you to be his housewife maid.
So doing what he does worst, he apologizes.
“Hey, ‘bout that one time I left ya’ outside. I realize that was silly of me cus ya’ coulda gotten eaten. So that was my bad.”
“So you’re sorry?”
“Yeah.”
He’s brushing Jasper’s fur, telling the horse how good he is. Cleaning Jasper is the only chore Maddox likes to do himself.
You’re sitting on a tree stump watching the man talk to his horse.
“You know Jasper’s a horse right?”
“Oh really? I thought he was a dog.”
The small smirk on your face after his little quip made Maddox feel like a million bucks.
That’s when he learned that he likes seeing you happy.
After the “Marriage”: (Read about it Here)
“Uhm what’s all this?” You ask your unofficial husband.
“This-”
He puts a brown sack down on the table. The sound of the contents inside clang together as he dumps it all out. A dozen chipped fine china plates come out.
“Is how we make our house a home sweetness. I hear housewives go crazy over fancy dishes n’ shit.”
Maddox stands there with a proud grin underneath his masked face. (He still hasn’t showed you his face yet btw.) He was like a dog showing his owner how good he is at retrieving sticks when playing fetch.
You look at him with an unimpressed quirk of your brow. “And where did you happen to come across such fine china may I ask?”
He shrugs and comes around the table to wrap his arms around you from behind.
“A buddy gave em to me.” His deep voice reverberates in your ear.
“Did you hold your so called buddy at gunpoint?”
“Would you be mad if I said yes?”
You groan and shakes your head back and forth. “Maddox you know you can’t just go around taking people’s stuff! Now the sheriff was probably alerted and is looking for you now. And why did you steal a bunch of plates!? Jasper can’t carry all this shit! We should only have what is necessary for survival you brute. Are you even listening to me!?”
But he only looks at you with lovesick eyes as you complain about how stupid he is.
“Princess did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you’re mad at me?” His hands go lower down your waist.
Rolling your eyes you smack his hands and leave his embrace, leaving him standing by himself like a kicked puppy.
“I have a meal to make so set the table with those plates you got. And no more stealing people’s things!”
“Yes ma’am.”
I appreciate all the requests that come in!! But I just want to remind all of you about my rules and that I do NOT write Y/n as a specific race. My writing is for everybody to enjoy!! She’s race ambiguous. Many people request that I write a Black Y/n but I’m not black so I won’t be doing that. If I write for a specific race then I feel like I’d just be stereotyping what black people are supposed to act like. So please don’t ask me to write for a Y/n that is a specific race. Thank you.
#yandere#yandere x reader#x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#obsession#western#cowboy#maddox graves
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ever since i saw a post about the idea of sonic (jokingly) being a sort of wind god, i’ve had so many thoughts in my head abt an AU that goes like:
Ok so an AU where Sonic IS a wind god who lives up in, idk, God Land w/ some other gods.
Anyway, one day he decides to drop down to the mortal plane for fun and to experience the world he’s helped create, bc sitting around blessing mortals n stuff gets boring after a while.
Basically, mans skydives outta god land without telling anyone & its all fun and games until he crash-lands in a field head first (& surprisingly does not lose his memory).
From there, he’s found and rescued by Tails and his magical golem. Sonic wants to hide the fact that he’s a god, so he feigns complete amnesia… until Tails decides he wants to try and help him recover his memories. Then Sonic claims to have recovered some memories the next day. He makes up a very odd yet mundane story abt his life. Is his tale believable? …Ehhh if you squint hard enough🤨.
And eventually a plot begins where someone in the story needs, or is trying to get, the 7 Chaos Emeralds or something. idk. Is it Eggman trying to get them for nefarious means? Is it one of the good guys getting a prophecy to gather the 7 emeralds? Someone else entirely? Dunno.
Anyway some lore stuff I have cooked up:
This is basically a fantasy rpg-like setting with magic and kingdoms and all of that. Technology would probably exist, but it’d be magically fueled u know? Like a “phone” being a specific crystal fueled by mana that allows voices to travel long distances or smth.
Tails is a self-taught magic scientist. He’s gone as far as to create a Golem from scratch in his off-time by the name of Emerl. Emerl is seen as odd for a golem, as he wasn’t built with a personality or directive in mind, rather, he was built to form his own personality & directive by observing others. At the start, he mostly takes after Tails & Tails’ friends. Now he also gets to take after this odd, lackadaisical, cocky, yet soft-hearted stranger by the name of Sonic. Yippeeee!
Amy is a paladin (thanks SF:SB) who is the retainer to Princess Blaze of Soleanna. She’s got an eye for strategy (shoutout to whatever Forces was trying in that regard) and presents a more level-headed exterior in the public, but is truly just a peppy, bubbly girl on the inside (& off the clock). She hangs out with ppl like Tails & Cream when she can.
Silver is a mage and oracle-in-training who’s the retainer to Princess Elise of Soleanna. He’s usually cheerful, naive and optimistic, but also has low tolerance & respect for people who bother him (stares at the Sonic Rivals Duology Silver. I love that little punk).
So yes, Blaze & Elise are related here. I mean cmon SOLeanna? SOL dimension? SOLaris??? BOTH CHARACTERS RELATE TO FIRE IN SOME WAY???? CMON!!! Anyway Elise & Blaze are step-siblings & Elise is a bird.
Anyway, there could possibly be a “kingdom” for each of the gods?? I could see characters who’d fit as important royal-like figures corresponding to each elemental god, but im not sure of that yet. At the least, we got the Soleanna Sisters
There are mortals who’ve been blessed by certain gods. Some examples are Tails being blessed by “Sonic” [whatever Sonic’s god name is], Blaze + Elise by Solaris, & Knuckles by Tikal.
Speaking of, so far, the gods I’ve thought of are:
Sonic (Wind), who looks like Super Sonic in his god form & any mortal depictions of him. However, he disguises himself in a different form (that’s just his normal blue self in-game/media) when dropping into the mortal realm.
Tikal (Earth), who looks like her usual in-game self. Also, those blessed by the Earth God are the only ones with notable healing capabilities. While anyone who’s blessed by a god has better self-regeneration than those not blessed, only those blessed by Tikal are can directly heal others.
Chaos (Water). aka the God of Gods. Almost never seen by the other gods unless its something important. Sonic, being the youngest of the main gods, has never actually seen Chaos in any way shape or form. VERY picky about who gets their blessing. Probably doesnt even bless people anymore, actually.
Solaris (Fire), who im not sure what looks they’ll have. Maybe literally how they look in 06 (which i think is just some weird… bird-like shape of light? Or maybe they look like Crystal Mephiles? Or a bird anthro? Maybe they shapeshift when they feel like it? Can Solaris split themself into Iblis & Mephiles or is Solaris just one entity? Much to think about.
??? (Light). There’s a “Fallen God” who was once known as the God of Light. After a certain incident, they were branded as the God of Destruction and banished to the mortal realm with his memories wiped. The God of Light is hardly known or worshipped in the mortal realm after most traces of their existence have been removed. These days, those blessed by the God of Light are few and far between, to the point where it’s become a mark of misfortune to have such power. Hmmmm I wonder who this Fallen God could beeee 🤔
& there may be another character or two who could fit the role of a god but idk off the top of my head.
…& I think thats all i’ve got for now. Listen this has been cooking in my head for days and especially last night for some reason. lmk what yall think bc its a fun little story idea thats been swimming in my brain hgkgh. Or if yall wanna shoot off some ideas n stuff that’d be fun too.
#sonic#sonic au#i have a name for this au but is it smth im really really gonna work on u know?? like. idk!#well not a finalized name but ‘Journey of the Wind God’ has been in my head for a while
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Roxy Lalonde, John Egbert
Act 6, page 6453-6459
ROXY: hay look
ROXY: its jake stuffed in a blue windsock
ROXY: heheheh
JOHN: huh?
ROXY: n/m
ROXY: so what kind of hot god tier trix can you teach me
JOHN: tricks...
JOHN: i guess i don't know any actual TRICKS per se, aside from how to use some of my powers.
JOHN: but i don't know if the same tricks apply to using your powers...
ROXY: u said u could help tho
JOHN: i said MAYBE i could!
JOHN: i dunno, i was just throwing it out there.
JOHN: like, maybe if i told you about some of the experiences i had when i was learning to do my windy stuff, you might have some kind of... voidey epiphany?
ROXY: a voidey epiphany
JOHN: yes.
ROXY: k then
ROXY: im all ears johnny windsock
ROXY: let loose ur wisdom whilst i rake in the epiphanies
JOHN: ok, um,
JOHN: i've noticed whenever i learn to do new things with my powers, it's usually in response to something. like something important that has to be done.
JOHN: so why are you trying to make this spike ball?
JOHN: and how important does it feel to you?
ROXY: well at first i was mainly tryin to make it because dog girl was forcing me to
ROXY: but now i think i keep trying because im gettin obsessed with making this dumb spikeball and PO'd that i cant do it
JOHN: i see.
JOHN: what actually IS this spike ball, if you don't mind my asking?
ROXY: its an alien egg
ROXY: 4 tha trolls
ROXY: to hatch em all back to life
ROXY: but only to be ruled by an evil witch so its gonna be shitty for them
ROXY: so yeah its kind of an important thing
ROXY: but at the same time it would probably be terrible if i actually made it so...
JOHN: then maybe the fact that you're conflicted about it is why you're having trouble?
ROXY: yeh maybe
JOHN: if you think it's important to make, but don't want to give it to the bad guys, why don't you just...
JOHN: break out of jail?
JOHN: then you could try to make the egg at your own discretion, and use it however you think is best.
ROXY: idk
ROXY: i broke outta here once already and the fuckin witch just nabbed me again
ROXY: and that was BEFORE she recruited jakes omnipotent goofball grandma to zap me back here the moment i step outside
JOHN: yeah. it is a tricky situation with grimbark jade on the loose, that's for sure.
JOHN: but i've been managing to evade her.
JOHN: i just swoosh the breeze around to hide my scent, and dissolve into wind and fly away if she finds me.
JOHN: maybe you could do something like that too?
JOHN: it seems to me if anyone should be able to avoid detection using their powers, it would be a void player.
JOHN: get it? a void... as in, avoid?
JOHN: heh.
ROXY: that is legit sound reasoning yo
ROXY: + a way lame pun 2 boot
ROXY: but remember how we were just talkin about the fact that when it comes to god tier shit i dont know what the eff im doin??
JOHN: oh.
JOHN: right.
ROXY: anyway
ROXY: i thought you were going to regale me with stories of your ascent through the windsock tiers
ROXY: such that i may through osmosis glean the vagaries of godhood
ROXY: then all i got to do is wait for this rude tidal wave of epiphanies n junk to wash over me and get me hella wise
ROXY: then and only then
ROXY: i will b able to make this shitty egg happen
ROXY: k?
JOHN: ok. where should i start?
ROXY: at the beginning!
JOHN: you mean like when i first became a god tier?
JOHN: that's a long story... i was kind of tricked into that.
JOHN: it might take some setup to understand.
ROXY: dude look
ROXY: i dont have grand illusions that this yarn you spinll be like some actual efficacious tutelage on fuckin pajama spells
ROXY: i just want to hear u talk about stuff
ROXY: wanna kno ur stories!!!
ROXY: go :3
JOHN: alright.
JOHN: in that case, i guess it all started on my thirteenth birthday.
JOHN: which was three years ago, by the way.
JOHN: i heard about this awesome game, or at least one i thought was awesome, and i wanted to play it with my friends.
JOHN: but it wasn't so easy to start. i had to get it from the mail, which meant sneaking around the house while avoiding my dad.
JOHN: which was kind of stupid and childish in retrospect, but blah blah blah.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.
ROXY: hmmmmm
ROXY: go on
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah meteor.
JOHN: blah blah blah.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah nannasprite blah blah blah blah oil everywhere blah blah blah blah blah blah imps blah blah blah.
ROXY: m hm
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.
JOHN: blah blah blah your daughter blah blah at least i think she is blah blah blah blah.
JOHN: blah salamanders blah blah blah.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah trolls blah blah blah blah blah rocketpack blah blah blah died.
ROXY: rly
JOHN: blah blah karkat blah blah blah blah blah ectobiology.
JOHN: blah blah blah jack noir.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah queen's ring blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah my dad blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah a girl named vriska.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah windy thing blah blah blah blah blah blah ocean of green fire.
ROXY: wow
JOHN: blah blah blah quest bed blah blah blah blah blah.
JOHN: blah blah prototyped blah blah blah blah blah blah blah jade's omnipotent dog.
JOHN: blah blah chess guy blah blah blah blah blah flying around in my dad's car blah blah blah blah blah blah blah liv tyler.
JOHN: blah the battlefield blah blah blah blah huge wind drill blah blah blah blah the tumor.
JOHN: blah blah.
ROXY: pls continue
JOHN: blah blah blah followed rose blah blah blah blah blah blah blah mom and dad died blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah kissed her back to life.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah the scratch.
JOHN: blah blah huge record blah blah blah blah blah blah giant needle.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah green sun blah blah blah blah blah reset blah blah blah blah blah god tier jade blah blah blah blah blah blah blah golden battleship.
ROXY: ur kiddin me
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah through a giant window.
JOHN: blah blah three years blah blah blah blah blah blah con air.
JOHN: blah blah thought it sucked blah blah blah blah but eventually came to my senses blah blah.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah ghost busters 2 mmorpg.
ROXY: mm
JOHN: blah blah blah blah blah blah DUEL WITH JACK NOIR!
JOHN: blah blah blah TURNED INTO WIND AND ESCAPED blah blah blah blah blah blah.
JOHN: blah blah blah blah COOL HAT WITH RABBIT EARS!
ROXY: oooh
JOHN: blah blah blah CRACKS IN PARADOX SPACE blah blah blah ENCHANTED DESERT blah blah blah MAGIC RING!
JOHN: blah blah ADVENTURE ON THE HIGH SEAS blah blah blah blah blah blah GHOSTLY TROLL PIRATES!
JOHN: blah ULTIMATE WEAPON blah blah blah blah blah blah DEFEAT LORD ENGLISH!
ROXY: !!
JOHN: blah blah blah blah HOUSE SHAPED THINGY!
JOHN: blah blah POKED MY HAND INSIDE blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah UNSTUCK IN CANON!
JOHN: blah blah blah TURNED BLURRY blah blah blah blah CLOWNS ON TOP OF THE WHITE HOUSE blah blah blah blah VAMPIRE HISSED AT ME blah blah blah blah LITERALLY INSIDE CON AIR blah blah blah GLITCHY BULLSHIT blah blah blah MET MYSELF blah blah blah blah FINALLY FOUND YOU HIDING IN THIS LITTLE GREEN PYRAMID! WHEW!
ROXY: omg
JOHN: so that's...
JOHN: pretty much the whole story?
JOHN: i left a bunch of stuff out though.
JOHN: if more important stuff that i forgot occurs to me, i will let you know.
ROXY: hey no thats fine
ROXY: that was all great and exciting as heck
ROXY: it sounds like you guys got up to a lot more crazy shit than we did
ROXY: for us its been mostly dicking around in a session full of spooky skeletons for half a year
ROXY: then fefeta died
ROXY: the end
JOHN: fefeta?
ROXY: fefeta was a dear sweet precious dear DEAR friend of mine
ROXY: she was beautiful and sweet and lovely
ROXY: she sploded
JOHN: wow.
JOHN: i'm sorry.
ROXY: oh we also became tricksters which as far as things that happen go was sooo dumb
ROXY: i guess thats kinda the epilogue of our story?
ROXY: oh yeah then we had hangovers and went god tier accidentally
ROXY: thats the double epilogue
ROXY: the end ex two combo
JOHN: i don't know, that all sounds pretty interesting to me.
JOHN: sometimes in life, when you look back on things it can feel like it was all boring and uneventful.
JOHN: but when you really think about it, you remember all these cool things that happened you forgot about.
ROXY: hm yeah
ROXY: them wise words j sock
JOHN: anyway, if you remember more about your adventure and want to tell me some time, i would love to hear it!
ROXY: haha ok
ROXY: um but hey
ROXY: i could not help but notice in ur story you was talkin about my mom sometimes
JOHN: your mom?
JOHN: well, yeah. but i know her as your daughter.
JOHN: but i mean, who the hell knows at this point?
ROXY: i know rite
ROXY: the curious case of the mutual moms
ROXY: it is
ROXY: the biggest mystery?
ROXY: u no
ROXY: once i even caught wind of some lore that implied i might even be my OWN mom
ROXY: (fefeta hinted that @ me once during a long spiel DAMN that girl could talk)
ROXY: how messed up would that be tho
JOHN: there is probably something to that actually.
JOHN: you were all the first batch of babies, after all.
JOHN: i think you were literal copies of yourselves?
JOHN: that's what it supposedly means to be a paradox clone.
ROXY: babies
ROXY: wat
JOHN: oh.
JOHN: i guess i kind of glossed over this stuff in my story.
JOHN: but i was the one who made us all in the first place, with a weird cloning machine.
ROXY: no fuckin shit???
ROXY: *is impressed*
JOHN: it was no big deal though. i was just messing around with a control panel, and some babies appeared.
ROXY: so we already met huh
ROXY: and i dont even remember because i was just some idiot bb
ROXY: that aint fair!
JOHN: come to think of it, we met one other time too.
JOHN: but you were asleep.
ROXY: ??
JOHN: you were floating around in purple pajamas, and i pushed you out of the way of a flying fork.
JOHN: i almost forgot about that. but yep, that was you alright.
ROXY: you shoulda woke me up then
JOHN: i might have, but the fork stabbed me in the chest, and dream killed my sleep ghost. or something.
JOHN: you know how it is with dream logic.
ROXY: u mean how it makes lil 2 no sense ever
JOHN: yes, exactly.
JOHN: i guess i didn't think much about it at the time, but i had a sneaky suspicion that's who you were.
JOHN: you really look a lot like rose.
JOHN: she is looking for you, by the way.
ROXY: yeah?????
JOHN: she told me to go find you. and i did.
JOHN: so, she says hi.
ROXY: o man
ROXY: what else did she say
JOHN: uh.
JOHN: she said...
JOHN: she's looking forward to meeting you?
ROXY: awwwwww
ROXY: well if u see her again before i do tell her i cant wait to meet her too
ROXY: though tbh im kinda nervous about it but dont tell her that part haha
JOHN: sure!
JOHN: there's nothing to be nervous about though.
JOHN: she's just a nice nerd who likes to read and knit.
ROXY: i shouldnt be surprised to hear that
ROXY: me and all my friends are a bunch of silly nerds too
ROXY: even dirk who thinks hes 2 cool 4 school
ROXY: when in reality he is nowhere close to clearing the coolness threshold which exempts one from attending an educational institution :p
JOHN: speaking of which...
JOHN: i've been wondering where he is?
JOHN: i know jade's grandpa is in jail too, getting badgered by my evil nanna...
ROXY: u mean jake n jane
JOHN: yes, sorry.
JOHN: but i have not seen hide nor hair of dave's bro yet.
ROXY: i figured he got thrown in jail too
ROXY: although come to think of it i probly would have heard a bloody ruckus by now resulting from his inevitable escape attempt
JOHN: hmm.
ROXY: im not that worried about him though hes good at takin care of himself
ROXY: in fact i feel like all of us will be ok now that you guys are here
ROXY: but
ROXY: there is still one of my friends im worried about the most
JOHN: who?
ROXY: shes my best friend
ROXY: well ok
ROXY: i got a few best friends u know?
JOHN: yes.
ROXY: but she was always kind of a special best friend
ROXY: and last time i saw her she was in big trouble
JOHN: oh no.
JOHN: where is she?
ROXY: in the afterlife
ROXY: being dead
JOHN: ...
ROXY: her bro killed her
ROXY: which is bad enough
ROXY: but now hes out there
ROXY: hunting for her ghost
ROXY: shes doing her best to hide
ROXY: but her bro is an awful and relentless piece of shit and im afraid
ROXY: im afraid she might be already gone :(
JOHN: you're right, that is very concerning.
JOHN: who is she? would i know of her?
ROXY: dunno
ROXY: how in the loop are you on cherubs?
JOHN: oh!
JOHN: surprisingly, i know a LOT about that subject.
JOHN: for instance, did you know they turn into gigantic snakes when they have sex?
ROXY: :O
ROXY: :O
ROXY: :O
JOHN: i know. weird, right?
JOHN: that's probably not very relevant to the topic at hand, though.
ROXY: yeah prob not
ROXY: anyway u know about lord english right
JOHN: uh huh.
ROXY: ok well
ROXY: shes his sister
ROXY: her name is calliope
JOHN: ohhh.
JOHN: ok, this is starting to make sense.
ROXY: yep
ROXY: shes supposed to be critical to defeatin him somehow
ROXY: shes going on some quest out there to find a deadlier version of herself or whatever
ROXY: i dunno that could be all be true...
ROXY: and maybe its selfish of me but all i rly care about now is if shes ok??
JOHN: i understand. she is your friend.
JOHN: i would feel the same way.
ROXY: :)
JOHN: wait a minute...
JOHN: i've got it!
ROXY: got what
JOHN: i have such a good idea that would solve your problem.
ROXY: ????
JOHN: all you have to do is bring her back to life!
ROXY: how
JOHN: easy.
JOHN: i have a magic ring!
ROXY: what
ROXY: u have one too
JOHN: yes!
JOHN: wait. what do you mean too?
JOHN: you have a magic ring??
ROXY: i HAD one
ROXY: fuckin lost it though
ROXY: made peeps invisible who put it on
JOHN: ah.
JOHN: no, mine doesn't do that.
JOHN: it brings ghosts back to life!
ROXY: FUCK
ROXY: no wai
JOHN: yes wai. way.
JOHN: it's back at my house.
JOHN: i could go get it right now!
ROXY: damn son
ROXY: i find this 2 be some truly baller happenstance
ROXY: if ur claim is true im.......
ROXY: im cry :')
JOHN: it is quite true.
JOHN: it should be a piece of cake.
JOHN: you just wear it when you go to sleep, and it comes with you in your dreams.
JOHN: then you find your cherub friend, put it on her finger, and bring her back!
JOHN: i think you can only use it once though. so once she's wearing it, it would be hers forever, or at least as long as she wants it.
ROXY: yo
ROXY: yooooo
ROXY: john thats amazing
ROXY: i dunno though that sounds like
ROXY: such an obscenely precious commodity
ROXY: u sure you want to let me use it?
JOHN: sure.
JOHN: it's no big deal, really.
JOHN: for a while i was hanging on to it, thinking that i might give it to...
JOHN: aw man, this is going to sound dumb.
ROXY: hm?
JOHN: there was a girl who i was considering giving it to, for some reason.
JOHN: remember? she was the diabolical one who figured prominently in my long story.
ROXY: um
ROXY: oh yea
ROXY: fresca right
JOHN: yes, close enough.
JOHN: see, she REALLY wanted that ring.
JOHN: and she found out i had it, and...
JOHN: honestly, i'm not sure why it even crossed my mind to give it to her?
JOHN: i guess i was just used to the idea that i liked her for some reason.
JOHN: at least i thought i did.
JOHN: it was a stupid idea based on hardly anything. like one day of conversations.
JOHN: but since i've gotten to know her better...
JOHN: i don't know.
JOHN: i think i might actually...
JOHN: kind of hate her?
ROXY: yeah?
JOHN: yeah, she's...
JOHN: actually pretty awful!
JOHN: she's so full of herself, and mean to her friends, and...
JOHN: dangerous.
JOHN: really, really dangerous.
ROXY: ouch
ROXY: well what can i say john
ROXY: love sux
JOHN: yeah. it does.
JOHN: anyway, i don't think i can let anyone like that have the ring.
ROXY: but u dont mind trustin me w it?
JOHN: no!
JOHN: it's funny, after spending some time with a person who is legitimately crazy, it becomes easy to tell right away when someone...
JOHN: isn't?
ROXY: lol
ROXY: u sure about that
JOHN: well, yeah, everyone is a little crazy. i just mean not BAD crazy.
JOHN: besides, you don't even want the ring for yourself.
JOHN: you want to give it to someone you care about.
JOHN: that is what makes you one of the good guys.
ROXY: what a nice thing to say
ROXY: i bet sayin stuff like that is why ur their leader
JOHN: what makes you think i'm the leader?
ROXY: come on dude you are obvs the leader of otherkid teamsquad
ROXY: i can just tell
JOHN: haha, ok. i'll take that as a compliment.
JOHN: anyway, i'll go get the ring now.
ROXY: yay!
ROXY: ill wait here
ROXY: no need to set off the alarms with a daring escape just yet
ROXY: lets keep em lulled into a false sense of control over the sitch
ROXY: we can start scheming under their nose while u keep sneakin around undetected
ROXY: the last thing we want is for all hell to break loose before we know what were doin
JOHN: yeah, that's a good plan.
JOHN: if i had to guess, i'd say you must be the leader of your team squad too, right?
ROXY: naaaw
ROXY: that's jane
ROXY: as you can see shes the one with a knack for ruthless executive authority
ROXY: is a shame she only uses it when evil tho :(
JOHN: yeah.
JOHN: but maybe we can do something about that, if we work together.
ROXY: :D
JOHN: alright. off i go.
JOHN: keep practicing your powers!
JOHN: see you, roxy.
#homestuck#roxy lalonde#john egbert#homestuck act 6#page 6453#page 6454#page 6455#page 6456#page 6457#page 6458#page 6459#homestuck act 6 act 6#homestuck act 6 act 6 intermission 1
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hi love!!! I would please like to request something so jdneoe please I'm all blushy while thinking but imagine iwaizumi fucking you in front of the mirror in the locker room after hearing the Japan team talking about you, his precious girlfriend, how they would use you as some fucktoy, he knows you deserve way more than that
hajime knows all the players were watching by the door how you were almost breaking from the pleasure he was giving you, too lost in it you didn't even know they were there
pls this is basically mirror sex and unknown voyeurism for the reader 😭😭😭😭
ofc if you don feel comfortable you don't have to do it!! thanks a lot
this is my first-ever request, so as a prize you win a kissaroo from me to u 😘 this was a very fun idea anon, so thank you for sending it in! I was also blushing while writing it ksjdksdduhjd
actual locker room talk, (semi-nonconsensual) voyeurism, mirror sex, overstimulation, creampie
2200 words
watching -- iwaizumi hajime x reader
He knew it wasn’t your fault; after all, you couldn’t help how cute you were. You couldn’t help the way the fabric of your skirt clung to your hips, the way the neckline of your blouse dipped down when you bent forward, revealing just a little too much skin. You certainly couldn’t help yourself from gazing at your boyfriend with those cute little bedroom eyes each time you visited him at work; it was a look that he learned early on was unintentional, it was simply your natural reaction to seeing him, and it was one of the little things he loved about you. That gaze was reserved for him and him alone, and it only appeared on your face when you thought no one else was watching.
But someone was always watching you; they just couldn’t help themselves, not when somebody as cute as you was wandering around the gym, trailing after Iwaizumi like a lost puppy, your sweet laughter echoing around the room. The looks they caught you giving to your boyfriend, a small indicator of what you were like behind closed doors, made it difficult for them to not fantasize about you.
Iwaizumi knew this, and to some extent he didn’t mind. Having a gorgeous girlfriend inevitably meant that other guys were going to think about her a little too much, but it didn’t matter what they thought to themselves, because at the end of the day it was him that you went home to.
What he did mind, however, was the way they talked about you. Crowded into the locker room after practice, unaware that he was just outside the open door, the team didn’t hold anything back.
“Did ya see what Y/n was wearing today?” Atsumu asked no one in particular. “That dress didn’t leave much to the imagination, huh?”
“Pretty sure she wasn’t wearing anything underneath,” Hinata said.
“Yeah, I saw the way you were starin’ at her,” Atsumu laughed.
“Can you blame me? When she bent over to pick up that ball….”
Someone whistled then, a low, long note. Several other voices murmured their agreement.
“If she’s looking for some balls to hold, I wouldn’t mind helping her out.” More laughter sounded out; Iwaizumi’s jaw clenched. He was frozen on the spot, unable to tear himself away from the disgusting conversation.
“Yeah? Why don’t you tell her that next time she comes around.”
“Bet she gives crazy good head.”
“Girls like that always do.”
“Fuck, I wouldn’t mind hitting that.”
“She’d probably just lie there and take it, too.”
“Not like I’d want anything else outta her, though.”
Their laughter rang out. Iwaizumi had finally had enough, forcing himself to turn and walk away; it probably wouldn’t have been a good look if the team’s athletic trainer wound up putting them in the hospital.
He definitely knew it wasn’t your fault; not you, his lovely girlfriend who had never asked for any of that attention. The fact that you just existing could elicit such disrespectful comments made him feel more frustration than he knew what to do with. More than the knowledge that other guys were thinking about fucking his girlfriend, he was more bothered by the way they had spoken about you, as if you were just a piece of meat, something interesting for them to play with. He knew better, knew that you were someone to cherish and take care of, someone he had gone out of his way to make feel good countless times.
But he also knew that their comments were, in the end, harmless. He certainly was never going to relay them to you, and as long as you could stay happy, blissfully unaware of what was being said about you, Iwaizumi could shoulder the burden of knowing the team’s true thoughts. He had managed to calm himself down by the next time he saw them, and was successfully managing to ignore what he had overheard.
Up until the next time you stopped by the gym.
When he spotted you across the court, chatting innocently to Ushijima and Atsumu, something in him snapped. He was hyperaware of the lustful way Atsumu was looking down at you, the way the muscles in Ushijima’s arm tensed when you playfully shoved him on the shoulder, laughing at something he had said. It was one thing to listen to the team talk about wanting to fuck you; actually seeing it so plainly on their faces was something else entirely.
Before he was aware of his own intentions, Iwaizumi was making his way over to you, putting a protective arm around your shoulders and tugging you away from the others.
“Y/n,” he said, his voice sounding oddly clipped. “Can you come with me for a second?” He was already leading you away before you could respond.
“Hajime? Is something wrong?” you asked, looking up at him. You could see the muscles in his cheek tensing as he clenched his jaw.
“No, baby,” he said, but you weren’t entirely convinced.
“Okay, because it seems like something’s bothering you,” you pressed as he led you into the team’s locker room.
“Nothing’s bothering me.” He pushed your back up against the row of sinks, large hands firmly gripping your waist. “Just wanted to touch you,” he said, head bending down to press hot kisses into your neck.
“Hajime, not here!” you said, but you made no effort to push him away. You sighed, melting into his touch, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt as his mouth moved up to your ear, teeth nipping at the soft skin.
“Why not, princess?” he asked, voice low and husky. “Don’t you wanna see how cute you are?”
Turning you around, he pressed his chest up against your spine, hand weaving into your hair to tilt your head back so that he could kiss down your throat. You stared at your reflection in the mirror with wide eyes, gasping as his teeth sank into your skin.
“Don’t you wanna see what you look like when I’m fucking you?”
Your heart was pounding, legs trembling as his hands roamed over your body, lifting up your shirt and tugging down your bra to reveal your breasts. Your nipples hardened when the cold air hit them; Iwaizumi’s fingers brushed over them, pinching and rolling, making you moan softly.
“P-please, Hajime,” you said breathlessly, feeling his cock pressing into your ass. You grinded back against him, desperate for more contact. The wetness was growing between your thighs, soaking through your panties.
“Hmm?” he hummed in your ear. One of his hands moved under your skirt, tugging your panties down and letting them fall to your knees. “What do you want, princess?” he asked, sliding a finger along your pussy, making you squirm.
“Want your cock, please, baby, need it so badly,” you begged. In the mirror, you saw him grin over your shoulder. He tugged down his shorts and boxers just enough to free his cock, before flipping your skirt up over your hips to get a better view of you. He dragged the head of his cock between the folds of your pussy, his touch teasing.
“This what you want?” he asked, the tone of his voice making you shiver. You nodded, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. He pressed into you, groaning at the sight of your eyes fluttering shut as his thick cock stretched you out. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he bottomed out; you clenched around him, drawing another low groan from his lips. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.”
Iwaizumi loved the look on your face in the mirror, with your head thrown back and eyes squeezed tight, breath coming out in shallow pants as he started thrusting into you. It was clear that you had no thoughts other than how good he felt inside you, desperately wanting him to make you cum; but a part of his mind was thinking of something else. He was thinking about the fact that practice was almost over, and any minute now the team would be heading back to the locker room to find you there, shamelessly moaning from the way that he was fucking you.
“Open your eyes, princess,” he told you. “I want you to look at yourself while I fuck you.” You immediately obeyed, staring, mesmerized, at your boyfriend’s face in the mirror, his dark green eyes boring into you.
His cock was hitting that spot deep inside your cunt, making your whole body tremble. He dug his fingers into your hips, gripping you harshly as he fucked into you. Your pussy was tightening around him, letting him know how close you were getting.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, mouth sucking on the skin of your neck again. “Who’re you so wet for, baby?”
“Y-you, Hajime—oh, fuck—only you,” you gasped out, surprised by how much you were loving being able to watch yourself getting fucked. Your cheeks were flushed, hot breath fogging up the mirror as you came closer and closer to your release. “F-fuck, please don’t stop, baby, I’m g-gonna cum—god!” You had barely gotten the last word out before your orgasm washed over you, eyes closing again at the intense pleasure.
You were too wrapped up in your own world to notice the sound of footsteps getting closer, but Iwaizumi was all too aware of them. He was looking at the door in the mirror when the team appeared there, grinning to himself at the stunned expressions on their faces. He put a hand on your back, pressing you down until your chest was lying flat on the counter.
“You want more, baby?” he asked you, just loud enough for the others to hear.
“Yes,” you moaned, head nodding against the cool surface of the counter. “Feels so good…”
Iwaizumi started thrusting into you harder, the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt echoing throughout the room. You were quickly coming undone, breathing shallow and fast as your nails grasped at the surface beneath you. His name left your lips over and over, begging him to go harder, faster, to give you more.
He loved the way you felt around him, loved how easy it was for him to completely wreck you. Your cunt was clenching so hard around his cock, drawing him back in each time his hips pulled away from you.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured into your ear as one of his hands reached around to play with your clit, the added sensation making your spine arch. “You wanna cum again, princess?”
“Mm hmm,” you whimpered, unable to say much else. You could hardly catch your breath with the relentless pace he set, the feeling of his cock so deep in your pussy making your mind go blank. He was rubbing tight circles over your clit, the friction sending you over the edge again.
With one cheek pressed into the counter, Iwaizumi could see half your face as you were cumming. He smiled at the way your mouth fell open, no sound coming out as he continued to rock his hips into you, not giving you a break for a second. He glanced up at the mirror again to find the whole team still standing in the doorway, watching intently as he fucked you better than they ever could. Several of them were palming themselves through their shorts, desire plain on their faces.
He increased his pace even more, fingers still playing with your clit, making you cry out. Your whole body was shaking underneath him; the sight of it drove him mad.
“T-too much, Hajime!” you wailed, but the look in your eyes as you gazed up at his face pleaded for him to keep going. The overstimulation was electrifying every part of your body, a tingling sensation running up and down your limbs as his cock slammed into you relentlessly.
“One more, princess,” he said, never stopping his movements. “You’re gonna cum for me one more time.” It wasn’t a question or a request, but a clear order. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, even as they watered from the intense pleasure, your vision blurring, body shaking uncontrollably.
“Fuck, fuck! Hajime!” you screamed out as your pussy clenched around him again, eyes rolling back. A string of curses and moans flew past your lips, dissolving into unintelligible babbling. If he hadn’t been gripping your hip so tightly, you would have collapsed from the intensity of your orgasm, knees trembling wildly.
Iwaizumi couldn’t hold back anymore. He leaned down over you, chest pressing into your back and lips latching onto your throat as he came, spilling his load inside of you. “You’re so amazing, baby,” he whispered, his words intended only for your ears.
Panting hard, he pulled out of you, fixing your clothes into place before tucking himself back into his shorts. Pressing one last kiss into the back of your neck, he looked up at the mirror. The hard look he gave the guys still standing in the open doorway was more than clear; without needing a word from him, they all turned to leave before you could sit up and notice them.
Iwaizumi wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in close to plant a kiss on your temple. He led you out of the locker room, grinning at the way the team stared at you in the hallway, their eyes moving to look at his cum slowly dripping down your inner thigh.
--
➣ masterlist
#iwaizumi#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi smut#iwaizumi hajime smut#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi hajime x reader#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#requests#niakasi writing
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please please PLEASE may we have a part two to the 'only one bed' piece you posted 🥺🥺 your writing is INCREDIBLE and I loved it so much 🥺🥺🥺 if u decide to do a part two then thank u so much in advance,, hope u have a good day 🥺
a/n: you asked for it (some others did too but this anon was so adorable so I’m replying to this one) so I’m gon’ give it to u <3 also, THANK YOU I am being 1000% honest that your comments seriously brought me to tears I was SO happy you all loved it. when I say pt.2, I kind of assume that it’s with the same characters (since no one specified others) so that’s what I’m gonna do!
Context provided, don’t worry babes
WARNINGS: sexual harassment, intoxication, extremely heavily suggestive (it gets pretty spicy)
Also contains spoilers from part 1 but like why would you even read part 2 if you haven’t read part 1? Get outta here and read it!! (Why is this even a warning? I don’t know don’t question my methods)
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“There’s only one bed” [PT.2] PT.1
Saeyoung
You awoke to a sleeping Saeyoung, his toned arms enveloping your small body in a hug. Shamelessly, you laid still for a few moments longer.
When you’d noticed him stirring awake, you quickly shut your eyes once more, trying to conceal your growing smile
Saeyoung blinked a few times before registering at last where he was
He needed a little more time to register why you are in his arms
Pretending to be asleep again, you nuzzled further into his chest, letting out a soft groan
Saeyoung’s mind flew to DANGER MODE
He felt kinda guilty holding you in his arms because let’s face it there’s no way he isn’t enjoying this
He was so stunned that, for once, he was at a loss for words (shocking, I know)
Blinking out of his stupor, he murmured, “Y/N?”
His morning voice was... nice.
You pretended to “wake up”, fake yawning before saying, “Yes, Saeyoung?”, subtly batting your eyes a little
(It wasn’t subtle)
But since Saeyoung is an actual fucking moron, he can’t tell the difference
Play it cool, Seven. She can’t know that you know she was doing this all night and you didn’t do anything.
“Wow”, Saeyoung choked out a laugh, “I didn’t know you liked me this much.”
You look down, in between the two of you before slowly making eye contact with him again, smirking in disbelief, “I could say the same to you.”
A slow blush crept up his face at the innuendo
But he was NOT about to lose
Saeyoung Choi is NOT a loser
“Oh, yeah? Well, I wasn’t the one screaming my name last night.”
You gasped, “Screaming?! I didn’t scream -- I would’ve remembered a dream like tha-- Oh!” You quickly covered your mouth, already feeling regret seeping into every bone of your body.
Saeyoung openly chuckled, looking at you with a sort of darkness in his eyes
“You’re more dangerous than this whole mission.”
You were still out of sorts, failing to come up with a comeback besides a quiet, “I wasn’t screaming.”
A shit eating grin replaced the cool smirk on Saeyoung’s face
“I win.”
“Eat a dick, Seven.”
“Sorry, I think I’m more attracted to the one who was moaning out, ‘Oooh, Saeyoung~~~’“
You threw a pillow straight in his face, muttering a “shut up”, blushing profusely
Ever the competitive fucker, Saeyoung proclaims an all out pillow fight
It is WAR
Throwing pillow after pillow at each other in between giggles and taunts and jeers
“Take no prisoners!” you shouted, feeling unbeatable
Until Saeyoung grabbed your ass, pulling you down with him, earning a yelp from you
“What the fuck, Sev’?! You cheater!!”
“I don’t know, my hand’s a lot more comfortable here!”
You scoffed, “Oh, YOU! YOU are gonna GET IT!”
Saeyoung threw back his head in laughter but abruptly stopped when you grabbed his face with both your hands, and forcefully kissed him
He let out a “MMPH!”, eyes wide
Before, of course, kissing you back with equal force
Gasping for air at last, you spoke in between breaths, “I......win..”
“Actually, darling, I think I just did.”
Noticing your loss for words, he smirked before asking, “So.... what’s my prize?”
You didn’t have to be asked twice, “I think I have something in mind...”
His eyes met your own before slowly scanning your body, then snapping back to your eyes once more
You bit your lip
“I know you’ll lose at least one thing tonight.”
“Bold of you to assume--”
“Just shut up and kiss me again.”
Wish granted ;)
Yoosung
Yoosung glanced away, taking a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, yeah I did. I really like you.” You couldn’t hold back the big ol’ smile that took over your face as you proudly declared, “Me too!!” Right when Yoosung was going to go in for a kiss, he saw his auntie suddenly right next to the both of you
“Oh my GOD when did you get here?!”
She smirked, “My question first, dearie, what did you two like?” Neither of you answered, your cheeks growing red
“You know, the first time your uncle did it with me I felt the same way. Like, what a man! Must run in the fam--”
“OKAY! THANK YOU FOR THAT AUNTIE BUT BREAKFAST IS CALLING MY NAME MM SMELLS GOOD SEE YOU LATER.”
Your blush didn’t leave you as you smeared strawberry cream cheese on your toasted bagel. This trip was going to be very VERY difficult. Thank God there was alcohol. And Yoosung. And probably dogs. And Yoosung. Yeah. Gotta love relatives.
Following this stunning confession, you felt dumb because, well, you still didn’t know where you really stood with Yoosung
So when night came, you were ready to go to a party
Putting on your earrings and making sure your clothes were laid properly in place, you stepped out of the resort room to a waiting Yoosung
“H-hey, thanks for waiting for me,” You nervously tucked a stray hair behind your ear.
Yoosung avoided eye contact, opting for a stiff nod
You gazed deeper into the side of his head, feeling hurt.
But... you decided not to say anything.
Walking together to the reserved room the resort had made in preparation for Yoosung’s uncle was awkward, not a single word spoken between the two of you
When you arrived, Yoosung’s eccentric uncle immediately shouted, “’Sung ‘Sung! Get over ‘ere! We’re gonna have a part-ay!!”
You suddenly understood why Chaewon was the way he was
and why Yoosung’s parents forced him to go on this trip instead of themselves
Since you didn’t know his name, you opted for your nickname -- Uncle Alcohol
Cuz he had a LOT of it
In number, and in the amount he shoved down his throat at any given time
Seriously, how is this guy already drunk?!
You watched as Uncle Alcohol shoved a sloppy arm around Yoosung, not so quietly shouting something in his ear above the blaring music
You were too far away to hear, thank goodness, but you took note of the way Yoosung immediately blushed and shook his head fervently, his hands held in front of his chest
Before you could take in the atmosphere further, you felt a shiver down your back
Immediately turning around you saw the oh-so-famous Chaewon
“Heeeyyyyyyy babbeeheehe...... Wannnaaa..... sliiidee in my room tonighhht?” Laughing in a way what made you cringe and your ears numb, you replied, “No thanks, bud. You should probably get some water.”
“Nooo I want youuuu” Grabbing your boob in his hand, he laughed again, saying, “Nice”
Oh my god.. where the fuck is Yoosung??
You quickly slapped away his hand, shouting, “Stay the hell away from me asshole! Try anything else again, and I won’t give a shit that you’re drunk or Yoosung’s family, I will call the cops on you!”
He acted as if he didn’t hear you, but must’ve gotten the message because he sauntered over to another group of girls
Aren’t those his cousins? What the fuck is WRONG with that guy?!
The loud smack and curses answered the question. You didn’t attempt to help when you saw them proceed to beat the absolute shit out of him, blood and all.
What you needed was a drink. Something really, really strong.
You walked over to the resort bar tender
Something about your face must’ve given it all away because he began with a “Rough night, huh?”
“Do not even fucking ask me about it. God, please, I’m sorry that was rude. I just need something strong... just give me three fingers of rye.” You waved your hand nonchalantly, sitting at a bar stool.
“Are you sure, lady? You don’t look the type to handle that kinda liquor..”
“That’s kind of the point.”
He sighed, “Look... I’m not supposed to condone you getting completely shit-faced.. but you look like you need it tonight. I’ll make something a little easier down the throat, okay?”
You nodded, exasperated.
You didn’t know what it was, but it did the trick. It’s fruity taste easily passed down your throat, leaving you feeling lighter and more at peace.
“’nother one.”
He obliged, pouring another glass for you.
Four drinks in and your world was already unbelievably wobbly.
You were seeing double, looking at the bartender’s second form
You laughed, it all seemed to funny
Standing up, you stumbled over to the dance floor, grabbing one of Uncle A’s craft beers.
Dancing was fun for a few minutes, grateful no one had bothered you.
But you sat down, tears suddenly welling in your eyes
You were alone.
Yoosung.
Your mood brightened just by remembering his name
Giggling, you called out, “Yoosuuungg~~~” repeatedly around the room
One of the cousins heard your call, laughing because everything was funny, before grabbing Yoosung’s arm and shouting what they’d just heard
Yoosung quickly glanced over at you, brows furrowed. They softened a little upon seeing your drunken state
He’d had a beer or two, but the good feeling got old quickly and he sobered up by the time he’d noticed his cousins acting like complete fools
Upon seeing him, your smile grew to a big, childish grin
“Hiiii Yoosuuunggg...”
“Jeez, Y/n, how much did you drink?”
You giggled, playfully sticking out your tongue, “not sure~ a few.. probably..?” you laughed again, winking at him
“Hey, let’s get you some water, yeah? On second thought.. we gotta get outta here. I’ll carry you to our room.”
Your eyes shamelessly stared at his lips, not listening to a word he was saying
“Yoosunngg~~ I want you to fuck meeee”
Yoosung held the bridge of his nose in between his fingers, “L-let’s just go.”
Putting your arm over his shoulder, he carried most of your weight.
“Yoosuuung I want to have your babiess~~”
Yoosung blushed and looked down, continuing to walk, “You’re way too drunk.”
“Yoosunggieee I want to know what it feels like to have your d--”
He quickly shushed you, looking around for other observers
He basically ran to your resort room from there
Taking a long sigh as he finally had got you in the room, he wiped some sweat off his face
Just when he’d gotten up to get a water bottle for you, he heard retching noises
Before he could stop you, you upchucked all over yourself and some of the cheap resort carpeting
Groaning in physical and emotional pain, Yoosung muttered a quiet, “why me”
Before putting his arms under your arm pits and dragging you to the bathroom
He spent a good 10 minutes just trying to get the stupid shower to turn on because of course at any other place than your own house it’s never easy
Then, after getting the temperature just right, he forced you to down at least half of the water bottle
“Are you able to take off your clothes by yourself, Y/n?”
You giggled back, shaking your head
“Liar.”
“Help me take ‘em off pweaseee”
���No!”
You started tearing up again, your lip wobbling
“You know I can’t do that sweetie, you’re drunk.”
“No ‘m not.”
“Yeah, you are.”
You looked up at him before sighing and lifting up your shirt, fully exposing half of your naked body to him
He screamed like a little girl, running and slamming the door behind him
You pouted, “That’s no fun.”
After getting out of your clothes, you devised another poorly thought through plan
“Yoosunngggieee I need help washing myselffff”
“Um.. okay, lemme go see if I can get a hold of someone...”
“I want it to be you. I want it to be you who sees me like this. I want it to be you. Only you.”
“S-stop..” He said through the door.
“Please?”
Sighing, Yoosung knew there was no one who wasn’t drunk or available to help.
He did what any good guy would do. He proceeded to blind fold himself, opting for reaching his hands out to guess and where things were.
You laughed, “’Sunggiee you know you’re still gunna be touchin’ me”
“I’m not going to.”
“You said you’d help me!”
“Yeah, getting shampoo or something like that!”
“How ya gunna do that with somethin’ over your eyes?”
“I didn’t think it through that far.”
You sighed, conceding and attempting to wash yourself (which ended pretty badly) but, keeping his word, he managed to assist you the best he could without touching you.
He pitied the hangover you’d have... and the regret.
At last carrying you to bed after getting you another drink of water, he began cleaning the putrid stain you’d left on the carpet.
It was about 5AM when he’d finished, finally crawling into bed.
He thought about the way it felt last night compared to now
and he blamed himself.
He was the one that made you get so drunk you essentially passed out
Looking at you again, he sighed.
Tugging you close into his arms, he whispered a soft, “I’m sorry.”
Your subconscious must’ve heard him because you said in your sleep, “’s ok.”
Jumin
And suddenly your faces weren’t so far apart. And you couldn’t help but slowly close your eyes. Jumin was confused. He can be a bit of a pea brain, so he of course said, “I’m sure you’re very tired.” He shut off the light, reaching over you. You held back the big frown you’d gotten when you realized he’d rejected you. Unbeknownst to you that it took everything in him, from the moment he’d saw you in the jet cabin, not to scoop you up in his arms and make out with you the whole way there.
You were awoken by birds chirping outside the massive estate window
You made eye contact with an already staring, wide-eyed Jumin
Upon realizing you’d woken up, he averted his gaze saying, “Breakfast -- soon.”
You missed the crimson color of his face, instead getting up and stretching (like you didn’t learn your lesson last time)
Then, you made your way over to the fresh coffee that had been delivered to your room minutes before
Adding a shit load of cream and a dash of sugar, you turned to see Jumin staring at you. Again.
You breathed out a laugh, “What are you looking at?”
Jumin’s brows knit together for a split second before he again looked away, his soft blush never fading, “It’s hard not to.”
“Look at wha--” Your eyes grew wide in realization, looking down at the lingerie hardly covering your skin, Jumin’s shirt no where to be seen.
You screamed, making a poor attempt to cover yourself shouting, “Oh my god I’m so sorry I forgot!!”
Again, Jumin found his gaze resting on your body, stifling a groan.
He at last spoke, his deep voice reverberating throughout the room, “You... you’re making this all.. so much more ....difficult.”
You then grew defensive, “Made what difficult? Ogling at me without staying anything?!”
His eyes glowered with something you couldn’t quite place. “That’s not what I meant”
He walked slowly toward you, causing you to take steps backward
He’d backed you up against the wall, letting out a deep breath through his nose
With glittering eyes, he grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look up at him instead of the ground
“You’re doing on purpose, aren’t you?”
You gulped in anticipation, “D-doing what?”
Jumin raked his eyes down your body then looked back up at you with a sarcastic expression that said, “really?”
“N-no! I didn’t have a choice!!”
“Your clothes would’ve been dry hours ago.. if it really bothered you--”
“Well I was really tired from the jet ride and putting up with you!”
Jumin looked surprised for a moment before grinning sardonically, “Putting up with me? Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to control myself when you’re constantly grabbing me, touching me, everything!”
“I didn’t do all that on purpose!” Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but you weren’t about to admit that to him when he was being such a dick.
He laughed dryly, “Yeah, okay. All I’m saying is that I don’t find it very funny.”
“You think that you’re just some big joke to me?!”
“What other explanation is there?”
You were practically hysterical in your laughter saying, “You’re unbelievable.”
“Oh yeah?” he challenged.
“Yeah,” you glared back at him, your faces inches apart.
Before Jumin could realize what he was doing, he pulled your hips flush against his own, crashing his lips harshly on yours.
Letting out moans of both desperation and anger, your eyebrows furrowed as you deepened the kiss, gasping when Jumin slid his tongue so far into your mouth you swore you felt it going down your throat.
After what felt like hours, you parted for oxygen, both breathing heavily, before going in for another long, simmering kiss
You felt Jumin smirk against your mouth causing you to lightly smack his chest, hating that he knew he’d gotten a rise out of you.
He grabbed your wrist against his chest, slowly guiding it to his first button of his night shirt.
You made quick work of removing all the fastenings, nodding and obeying him when he commanded, “Jump”
Your legs tied round his waist, you continued to make out, pulling at the waistband of his pants.
Jumin moaned into your mouth before parting to say, “You will be the death of me, little spitfire.”
Let’s just say the whole fiance thing might not be a lie anymore.
Zen
Zen wanted to say something smooth like “I’ve always wanted to do that.” But instead he said “I’ve always wanted to do you.” He mentally smacked his head, blaming the lack of oxygen for his stupidity. But you smirked up at him coyly, replying, “Then why don’t you?” Um, yeah, rip your hotel neighbor he will literally hate both of you so much.
You awoke you Zen rubbing his thumb on your arm, basking in the morning light
He groggily said, “’mornin’ babe.”
“I’m ‘babe’ now?”
“What else am I supposed to call my beautiful girlfriend?”
You leaned up and kissed him softly, smiling.
“I love you, Zen. So much.”
“I love you, too, Y/n. If you didn’t already get that from when we...”
You laughed shyly, “yeah..”
“I know I skipped a few steps, but I have never been happier and more sure of anything in my life.”
You looked up at him, peacefully grinning.
“Hey, let’s get married.”
Zen choked on his spit, “R-right now?!”
You giggled, “Not right now, but soon. I dunno, we’ve been friends for, like, forever. Now that we know we like each other it seems like the next step.”
Zen looked at you, searching your face to determine whether you were serious or not.
Detecting that you weren’t joking he laughed airily saying, “Sure. Whatever you want princess.”
He kissed the top of your head, whispering, “You’re so beautiful, ya know that?”
Sighing comfortably, you nodded, falling back into sleep.
“H-hey! Wake up!!” Zen shouted, giving up and just cuddling up to you instead, stroking your hair gently.
The concert wasn’t until late that night -- he had time to spare.
....Even if he didn’t, he’d make time for you.
- 3 months later
In classic Zen and Y/n style, you’d eloped shortly after the tour ended.
“Hey, Y/n? Have you seen my grey t-shirt?”
You looked up from your laptop, “Mhm, it’s in the dryer.”
He sighed, “Thanks babe”, before making his way down to the mudroom where your laundry was kept
He sifted through the hot laundry in the dryer, not seeing his shirt anywhere, when he hard a crash.
“Y/N?!”
He rushed out to the living room, glancing from the smashed coffee mug on the ground, to you.
“Y/N?! Are you okay?!!!”
You clutched your stomach in anguish, beads of sweat forming at your brow, “Y-yeah.. my stomach hurts so bad ‘s all.”
Zen was having NONE of that
He rushed you to the Emergency Room, holding your hand the entire time.
“It’s gonna be okay, Princess, I promise.” You nodded, before losing consciousness
-
you awoke to a depressing hospital room, meeting Zen’s worried eyes.
“How long was I out..?”
“For a few minutes.”
You sighed in relief, feeling a lot better than you were when you were rushed to the ER.
All of a sudden, a doctor entered the room looking stern.
“I wanted to discuss the diagnosis with the two of you when you were both physically present.”
You blanched, looking at Zen with fear etched in your eyes.
Zen held your hand tighter, before saying, “What’s the problem?”
The doctor looked in between the two of you before letting out a little laugh, “There’s nothing wrong, actually.”
You both looked confused, Zen proudly saying, “Then why’d you look all doom and gloom when you came in here?!”
The doctor roared with laughter saying, “Eh, I get a kick out of the faces you guys make. Ah, now to the diagnosis.”
“There’s still a diagnosis?!”
You shushed Zen, nodding at the doctor.
He took a breath before saying, “Miss Y/N Hyeon, you’re pregnant.”
Both your eyes grew wide, mouths slacked
“O-oh, oh my gosh!!”
Zen enveloped you in a big hug, congratulating you (and also hiding his tears)
This man could not hold back the proud grin he sported for MONTHS
-
I simp for this prompt so if someone asked, it’s not like I could say no to writing it for more characters.......right? lol Also, I came to a realization that I made that a fanfic rather than a headcanon.. so oh well, right?
#707#zen x reader#jumin han x reader#yoosung fluff#yoosung fanfic#yoosung mystic messenger#mm jumin#jumin x reader#jumin han#han jumin#saeyoung choi#luciel choi#seven zero seven#yoosung x reader#seven x reader#saeyoung x reader#mystic messenger#707 mystic messenger#myseme#mystic messenger 707#mystic messenger zen#mystic messenger headcanon#mystic messenger fanfic
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Submitted by @twitchyglitchy: don't know if you meant submit as in send something to submit or to just wait for the askbox to open back up but when you get the time perhaps #41 with fatherly Sun Wukong and MK?
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Sorry, I was opening up the inbox again but then I walked away to get a snack, and then three people submitted this way. So sorry! XD
I think this could be considered the unofficial prequel to THIS and THIS Explains how MK got sick
prompt list
Blurred Lines
Rated: G
Wukong held out his hand a few drops of rain starting to fall against the palm of his paw. He looks up with a frown, the sky's overhead grey with the promise of rain. Judging by how dark the clouds have become in such a short time looks like they were in for a downpour.
He opens his mouth to tell MK their training was over for the day but found he was having to dodge a staff hurtling towards him. Apparently, the kid had not noticed the rain yet or was looking to take advantage of how distracted he was for an easy win.
He smirks shifting to one foot easily, completely dodging the attack, MK expected the blow to land and found when it didn't his balance was off. That was something they really needed stonework on, his balance. It's like MK was compensating for missing weight in his body, he wonders if maybe if MK grew a tail that problem would magically resolve itself.
MK topless forward onto his face and rolls a few feet, till he's laying on his back with a groan.
Monkey king saunters over to the boy a few more drops of rain hitting his fur as he walks.
"Good job today, I think we need to work on your balance though." He offers a hand out to MK who smacks it away and stands up on his own with a grunt. That.. .was unusual. The boy always had a pretty good attitude even when he lost. Never a sore loser when they sparred.
"Again." MK grunts our whipping his nose off on his sleeve with a determined look. The sky above them rumbles with a warning and Wukong's face twists down in a frown. Something was brewing and it wasn't just the storm.
"Let's call it a night kid. It's gonna rain soon." A few more drops fall against his fur and face and MK shakes his head back and forth, droplets flying from his hair. No way the kid didn't notice.
"No we can train a bit longer, rain never killed anyone." He smiles, already taking a challenging stance. Wukong crosses his arms over his chest and feels a tail-flick behind him.
"Not a chance. We're done for today."
MK lets out a sigh and leans against his staff side-eyeing him.
"Hmmm...never thought the great monkey king was afraid of a little water." MK smirks and Wukong stiffens under the jab. His fur bristled under his insulted pride and he smirks back at MK with his tail swishing behind him annoyedly.
"Fine. Smartass. We can keep training but don't come crying to me when the heavens open up." His eyebrow twitches, taking up a defensive stance ready for whatever the boy would throw at him.
Almost as if on cue, the sky opens up and it's a downpour. He opens his mouth to tell MK they couldn't train in this but MK is rushing forward with a war cry on his lips Wukong barely has any time to react dodging and blocking a flurry of blows.
"Mk stop! It's pouring!" He tries to reason with MK who only steps forward into a strike, Wukong barely has time to grab the staff, halting it from bashing his face in. He didn't want to do this, he always goes easy on MK so they could slowly build up to his level, but at this point, the boy wouldn't listen to reason.
He grabs the staff and digs his heel into the ear and shifts his weight. He flips MK over his body slamming them hard into the earth..he hears MK let out a gasp of pain and he worries he's actually hurt the boy.
"Kid oh my gosh! Are you ok-" he reaches for MK who looks stunned on his back looking up at the sky with wide eyes, water dripping down his face and mixing with the earth.
"You have been...holding back on me" MK whispers out his face scrunching up in what could only be described as pain and betrayal. He sits up with anger on his face
"You don't even use all your strength on me??!!!" He yells at Wukong who's now getting a turn to be stunned.
"Well...of course not bud. I don't want to hurt you." He looks soaked to the bone now shivering, his hair hangs limp while his clothes stick to his body.
"That's not fair!!! How can I get stronger if you aren't even trying to train me!" He yells shivering again. Even Wukong could feel the rain soaking his fur and making his clothes heavier.
"Come on MK….I'm doing my best to train you."
Wrong choice of words.
MK's face becomes vacant and broken. Tears now pouring down his cheeks and mixing with the rain.
"What, so you're saying it's MY fault?? That I'm u-untrainable??!" He yells, gripping his hair and tugs.
"That you're doing your best because it's so hard to train me? Cause I'm a failure??" Thunder cracks after a flash of light only serves to illuminate the look of betrayal carved into MKs face.
"Kid stop!" He grabs the boy by his shoulders trying to stop him from spiraling.
"You're doing AMAZING. Your progressing faster than I did at your age. But you GOT to keep in mind that it takes time to get where I'm at." MK sniffs his lip warbling and Wukong grabs his hands to squeeze it reassuringly.
They are shaking like a leaf and are ice cold in his grip.
“Your hands are so cold!" He rubs them together between his paws trying to warm them up. He brings the hands to his mouth breathing hot air into them. It seemed content productive with them standing in the rain.
"Come on. Let's get you inside and dried off, you will catch your death out here." MK nods numbly and Wukong leads him indoors to his stone house where a few monkeys have already holed themselves up for the storm. They chitter and shrieks of concern from the monkeys greet his ears as they fret over both their king and their quote-unquote 'brother'.
Wukong ushers MK to his bathroom where he throws a towel over Their head and tries to absorb all the water that his mop of a head consumed. MK just stands limp allowing him to dry his hair. It's concerning that he hasn't even let out a squeak since they came inside.
"MK…." He pulls the towel away to look at their face. Indoors now, out of the pelting rain, it's so much harder for MK to hide his tears. His cheeks are puffed out and his eyes are red as a constant stream drips down his face and chin adding to the puddle on the floor steadily.
“I just want to do better….be strong like you.” MK’s eyes flit to wukong guilty before looking away to his soaked shoes. It shoves a wedge between Wukongs ribs painfully and presses upward threatening to separate ribs from the flesh.
"Look at me." Wukong titles his chin up forcing Expresso's eyes to look at him.
"You're doing amazing. I want you to know that. Every day you surprise me who how much you have learned. " He explains and he sees the boy's chest hitch slightly another batch of tears joining his.
"I'm very proud of how far you have come." He smiles at the boy whose lip warbles again. A sopping wet body slaps into his as ML throws his arms around his chest and buries his face into his wet clothes. At first, Wukong has no idea how to react, his arms hovering over the wet form but when MK squeezes him tighter he is prompted to wrap his own arms around the boy. He runs his fingers through the wet locks and tries to warm them up with his body. Subconsciously hai tail finds MK's ankle and wraps around it as if he was trying to get every possible grip he could on the boy. He lets out a soothing purr on his chest as if he's coddling his own child instead of his successor.
At this point how could you tell the difference?
The line has been slowly blurred over time like rain against sidewalk chalk to the point he had no idea where he stood on which side.
At this point he couldn't be bothered to care. Which terrified him.
He pulls away eventually but his tail remains around MK's ankle.
"You should head home, you need to change out of your wet clothes so you don't catch a cold. Okay?" He asked, offering a lazy smile to MK who seemed marginally better and lips quirked with a shy smile.
"Okay. Can we still train again tomorrow?" They asked sheepishly and Wukong ruffles the top of his head
"Sure can bud! Bring your A-game because you moved up a level tonight and it's gonna be a bit harder." He smirks again and his words only seem to encourage. MK smiles brightly now, eyes shining with the promise of more difficult training.
"Can't wait!" He beams pulling away already and shakes like a dog adding more excess water to his bathroom floor.
"Okay okay, that's enough. Get on outta here. And take care of yourself."
MK salutes as he backs away from his mentor..
"Sure thing!"
Wukong walks him to the door his tail only letting go of the boy's ankle when he finally is driving away on his noodle cart. He waves to the boy something warm newly sprouted in his chest. The line between mentor and father figure blurring a little more
#lego monkie kid#monkie kid#Prompt ask#writing Prompt#MK#Wukong#Wukong acting like a dad#oops posted before I finished sorry#submission
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The Problem with Perfection Chapter 10 spoilers!
Hey all! So, a couple people asked for this, so I figured I’d post it. It’s chapter 8 of the companion to TPWP, The Problem with Mondo, which corresponds with chapter 10 of TPWP. Yes, this confuses me a lot too, the fact that the chapters don’t align. -.-
Anyway! Don’t read this if you’ve not read TPWP chapter 10, since it will definitely spoil that chapter, ha. Warning for an overabundance of foul language and some sexualized thinking, as well as an absent thought of suicide, same as in TPWP. This chapter is super long, about 20,000 words, and I’m posting all of it because... why not, am I right? Ha.
I did cut a few sentences from this chapter because they might spoil things for later chapters of TPWP, but they don’t really contain anything major.
The chapter is below the cut! Hope y’all like. :-)
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Mondo is angry. Blindingly angry. So angry he doesn’t know why he’s angry, but honestly, what else is new? He just knows that he’s angry and the reason he is angry is that goddamn motherfucking kid and his goddamn motherfucking glasses-
“They! Are!! Glasses!!! Just!!! Wear them!!!” the boy grits out, thrusting his goddamn hand out towards Mondo, looking like he is about five fucking seconds from bashing his head against the goddamn wall. Mondo almost wishes he fucking would, to save him the fucking trouble! Unable to help himself, he scowls and crosses his arms, shaking his head firmly, so fucking pissed it ain’t even funny.
“No! I ain’t no fuckin’ nerd!” Mondo yells back, glaring like he was born to do it. Unfortunately, it seems so was Ishimaru, as the kid is glaring like his life depends on it, as fiery and beautiful passionate as ever. That goddamn motherfucking...
“Just! Wear them! The doctor says you need them! You don’t have to wear them all the time! Just when you’re reading! Stop! Being an idiot!”
“Me?! I ain’t no fuckin’ idiot, you’re a fuckin’ idiot! If ya think I’m gonna wear that shit, yer outta yer goddamn mind! Now get that shit outta my face, ya fuckwad, or I’m gonna bash yer head in!”
“Like heck you will! You’re all bark and no bite, Owada! Now just! Wear! The! Glasses! You said you were okay with them when you bought them! I will force you to wear them, don’t think I won’t!”
“Oh, you motherfuckin’-!”
“U-uh, g-guys?”
Mondo and Ishimaru turn, as one, to glare at the intruder on their private fucking conversation. Okay, so maybe they’re in the middle of the hallway outside their dorm rooms, but fuck! That don’t mean shit! Eavesdropping is a nasty fucking habit and if this goddamn motherfucker doesn’t butt the fuck out right the fuck now-
“Shut up!” the pair shouts in unison, before turning to glare at each other again.
Mondo doesn’t know why he’s so angry. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, or why he has been doing this for the past week and a half. From hot, to cold, to hot, to cold, again and again and again, never fucking ceasing. One minute he’s fine, relaxed as shit and not at all angry, maybe even feeling kinda good, and then the next...
And he doesn’t know why. Why he’s doing this. Why he’s fucking ruining this shit, like he fucking ruins every fucking thing. He... h-he just...
Things had been okay, you know? Between him and Ishimaru. At first. Sure, they weren’t really friends, evidenced by how they are still referring to one another by last name, but they’d been friendly enough. Mondo had taken care to keep his anger in check, and— to his surprise— it... it hadn’t actually been that hard. It seems that Ishimaru can be pretty fucking cool when they’re not at odds.
He’s also a great fucking tutor. He somehow manages to not sound sanctimonious and pretentious when explaining shit, instead looking so fucking earnest and like he genuinely wants to just... help.
Because of that, they’d gotten along pretty well those first few days. Ishimaru had been determined to get him brought up to speed before they started the fucking novel, so he’d taken care to spend a couple hours a day hanging around Mondo, at various times. The pair usually spent an hour or so in the library after class ended, but more than that, they just... they would walk together between classes, Ishimaru rambling on and on about what they’d just learned about in class. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d allowed it, usually not caring about shit like that, but somehow... somehow, it had been nice. Hearing Ishimaru talk about the shit they’d learned, the kid better able to impart knowledge in the ten fucking minutes they had between classes than the teachers were able to in the hour plus they had. It’s not at all the sorta shit Mondo would have expected himself to enjoy, let alone look forward to, but shit. There they were.
But then... Mondo got stupid. He overstepped his bounds and got fucking scared, fuck.
They’d been in Ishimaru’s room. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d made the offer to go to the kid’s room rather than the library, like they usually did, like was safe, but he... he had. And the kid had fucking accepted, and so there they were, sitting on the hall monitor’s fucking couch, sitting too fucking close. The kid was reading the short story Teach had assigned to the class, the pair realizing it was just... easier, while Mondo waited for the nurse to contact the eye doctor for him, since it turned out that yeah, his eyes were kinda fucked up, shit.
He had felt so fucking weird inside, the first time the kid had read to him, since they’d been in the library and he’d been nervous someone would see them and think Mondo was an idiot who needed to be fucking read to, but... shit. This time it had just been... different. Without the fear of being judged (since Ishimaru never fucking judged him, not ever, god fucking damn), he... he’d been able to listen to the kid reading without any fucking reservations. And he’d had to admit that- that he... he liked it. A lot. Like... fucking a lot.
So fucking much that it had made him feel relaxed for the first time... shit. Prolly ever. Ishimaru just had a nice sounding voice, ya know? It was strangely deep, at times, when he got lost in the story, his words not too fast but not too slow. He actually emoted when he spoke, too, the sound not a dull and dry monotone like so many fucking other people he’s heard read before. It just... made him feel so fucking calm inside, like the monster inside of him had been fucking purring.
And... and then...
Mondo had let his head drop down onto Ishimaru’s shoulder, eyes closing in contentment, the kid faltering for one split second, breath hitched, before he’d smoothly continued, like it had never happened. And with his eyes closed and his head resting on a warm, comfortable shoulder, hearing that wonderful cadence from that wonderful, beautiful mouth... he hadn’t been able to stop the thought. And the thought he had was...
God, his voice is so fucking nice, isn’t it...? Wonder what it would sound like screaming your name as you pound the fuck outta him. He’d prolly be loud as shit, so fucking passionate, clawing you to all hell, but damn if you’d mind. Shit... wouldn’t that be fucking nice...
He had been, to put it mildly, freaked the fuck out.
His eyes had shot open the second the thought had crossed his mind, heart fucking pounding as he wondered where the goddamn fuck that shit came from. Ishimaru had been startled, looking at him with his wide fucking eyes, lips opened softly in shock, voice faltering for the first time and Mondo... Mondo couldn’t fucking handle it, holy fucking shit.
He’d immediately stood and stammered out some bullshit about needing to check on his hog, before fucking bailing, eyes wide and heart an absolute mess. He had, indeed, gone out to his hog and rode around for a bit, not wanting to think, but he’d been unable to help it. To stop it. And it... it made him feel...
He’s not gay. Okay? He’s fucking not. There’d be no fucking problem if he were, but he just ain’t. He likes chicks, something he knows better than anything else, something he’s known since he was a fucking kid, goddamn. He’d even made sure to look at his porno mags that night, reassured when he felt his dick harden so fucking hard as he saw the tits and pussy that always made him so fucking hard to see.
So, he wasn’t gay. He fucking couldn’t be gay, and it’s not possible for him to like both, so he figured that the thought had meant... meant Mondo wanted to fucking pound Ishimaru’s head in, not- n-not any other meaning of the word that it could have meant. He guessed that he didn’t like being around Ishimaru as much as he had assumed and that he actually hated him, after all.
As freaked out as he’d been, he took hold of that idea and fucking ran with it. He told himself that he hated the kid, of course he hated him, his voice was fucking annoying as shit, not nice, not nice at all!
And so, the next day, he’d been cold to the kid. So fucking cold. And when the kid had tried to approach him after home room ended, looking open and earnest and so fucking cute-
Mondo hadn’t been able to handle it. His stomach had clenched, and his heart had fucking lurched, and he told himself it was hatred he felt, it had to be fucking hatred. And so, he’d snarled at the kid, telling him to ‘get the fuck away from me, freak!’ before he’d run off, heart aching so fucking stupidly.
He had considered skipping class, getting on his hog and fucking booking it, but he needed to give his girl a break, and he still kinda wanted to try the whole ‘giving school a chance’ thing, so he’d eventually decided to storm into class, even if he’d been five minutes late. He’d refused to look at Ishimaru, though, thinking that seeing his stupid fucking pathetic face would fucking destroy him infuriate the shit out of him, and as soon as class ended, he’d shot out, not needing to pack anything up since he’d not fucking brought anything, shit.
That had kept happening the rest of the day. Every class they had together (which was pretty much every fucking class, god fucking damn this school) Mondo would carefully keep his eyes off the kid, ignoring the feel of sad, hurt, bright red eyes as they bored into him. After the second class, the kid had tried to chase after him, tried to talk to him, but Mondo would fucking turn and head the opposite fucking direction of their next class, and he knew the kid wouldn’t dare risk being late, so he’d give up pretty quick. He’d constantly be looking in class, though, lips pulled down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Not that Mondo was fucking looking! Shit!
It wasn’t until Ishimaru had cornered him outside his dorm room that night, looking so fucking hurt and upset and not a little bit annoyed that they’d managed to resolve things.
In that Ishimaru had been so fucking annoying that Mondo had immediately started yelling, causing Ishimaru to yell back, his words bleeding hurt, making Mondo feel like absolute scum. They had been loud enough to garner the attention of most of their classmates, even fucking Togami gracing them with his condescending presence, which had made Mondo even more pissed, honestly, wanting nothing more than to be anywhere fucking else.
It was when the kid looked about ready to fucking cry that Mondo had had enough. His insides were squirming, and he felt so fucking scared, for reasons he still doesn’t understand, but he... h-he hadn’t wanted to make Ishimaru cry again. After spending several days interacting with Ishimaru, having a lot of fucking conversations that hadn’t actually ended in the kid’s tears, he... he hadn’t wanted to go back to that.
And so, with all the confused fucking emotions swirling inside him, he’d yelled ‘fuckin’ fine, ya goddamn bastard! I’ll fuckin’ meet you and do that goddamn fuckin’ assignment tomorrow! Now leave me the fuck alone!’ before storming into his room and slamming the door shut so loud it made even his ears ring.
He’d then promptly stormed into the shower, turning the water on as hot as it could go, the water fucking hurting, but he’d wanted it to. He just... he’d felt so... so...
Confused...
He’d never felt this way for anyone before. So angry and scared and confused and yet also so fucking happy, so bizarrely, stupidly happy. Ishimaru fucking... he made him happy. And he didn’t know how to handle that, because clearly, he still hated the kid... right? Right? What other option was there? Why did he want to hit Ishimaru (and he had to want to hit him, it was the only fucking option that made any fucking sense) if he didn’t hate him?
But he’d agreed— stupidly— to meet with the kid for another fucking tutoring session after class the next day. And while the thought had made his insides squirm, he... fuck. He hadn’t wanted to make the kid cry again. God, did he not want that. Even if he did hate him— which he must, he must— he... fuck.
He couldn’t make him cry.
He wasn’t his goddamn old man.
And so, when he got out of the shower, he’d resolved to contain his anger the next day. He’d push it down, keep it locked up tight tight tight, and he wouldn’t let it hurt Ishimaru. He’d gotten into bed (still hated it, but he was slowly getting use to the ridiculously plush material) and fallen into a fitful sleep, dreams full of wide, hurt red eyes, a sad voice begging him to explain why he was hurting him so. He’d woken an hour early with a start, heart pounding, and had spent the remaining time until he usually got up doing push-ups again and again and again, until he didn’t remember the dream anymore.
And then, when he went into class, carrying his supplies for once... he’d given the kid a small, sheepish smile, stomach roiling with all the emotions within it. He’d then spent the rest of home room doodling absently on the notebook Ishimaru had helped him pick out from the school store, doing his best to not think of everything and psych himself out. He’d even managed to feel almost calm as he let himself draw, something he rarely allows himself to do, but always has kinda enjoyed, even if he’s shit at it.
Once home room ended, he’d waited for Ishimaru at the door, telling him as casually as he could that the nurse had contacted him the day before, saying she’d scheduled an eye doctor (he still can’t remember the official name Ishimaru called the dude, shit) appointment for 3:00 the next day, hesitantly asking the kid if he had wanted to come along. He could tell that the kid was taken aback, clearly not having expected such a thing, but he’d still stammered out an acceptance, looking so flustered it wasn’t funny when Mondo turned to look at him with a small, soft smile. He’d not meant to look at the kid like that, but he’d just... been unable to help it.
The rest of the day had gone well, the tutoring session going nicely like it had before that stupid fucking bullshit two days prior. It had happened in the library again, which Mondo figured would be safer. He’d almost started to hope that things would stay that way, stay as calm and easy and nice, but then-
Mondo got angry. Again.
He doesn’t even know why, he never fucking does, but the kid had just... he’d been so fucking patient, helping Mondo pick out a pair of ‘reading glasses,’ since the doc had said he had pretty bad close-up vision and would be benefited from having prescription reading glasses, not just the over-the-counter stuff you find at drug stores. Mondo had felt so fucking lost, no idea what any of the bullshit meant, but Ishimaru had... he’d been so fucking helpful, explaining the complicated terminology and shit, helping him find a pair that didn’t make him look too much like a fucking nerd. And the pair he settled on was honestly kinda nice. It was a rectangular silver metal frame that had deep purple plastic on the sides, and it actually make him look kinda cool... if a bit nerdy. He’d given the salesperson his school insurance card and was pleasantly surprised to find he’d not have to pay a penny for the frames, since the school covers shit like that.
It was then, as he and Ishimaru exited the shop and the kid absently commented that the glasses made him look very smart that Mondo just... fucking lost it.
And he doesn’t even know why.
It just... it made him feel weird inside. Being around the kid. Being soft with him. And he was. Soft. Soft and kind and fucking gentle. And the kid was the exact same back. The entire time they’d been in the shop, Mondo had been thinking how nice it had felt. How domestic. The panic and fear had been slowly rising in him the entire time they’d been in the store, and he’d done all he could to push it the fuck down, but he... he hadn’t...
He’d left the kid standing there, looking so fucking confused, as he hopped on his hog and drove away. He’d not cared how the kid would get back to the school, he had refused to ride with Mondo since it made him ‘nervous’ anyway, so it wasn’t his fucking problem.
And that pattern just... kept repeating. Mondo would get angry, say something toxic to the kid, and storm away. The kid would wait a couple of hours, maybe try and talk with him after class or something, only to eventually corner him and force him to talk to him, looking so fucking fed up, but also so fucking upset and sad and confused. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was doing this to him. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was being so fucking difficult. Like he... he didn’t...
Didn’t know why he fucking bothered...
And… honestly? Mondo didn’t know why either. Why he kept trying. Why he was so stubborn, always chasing after Mondo even after Mondo fucking shoved him away, sometimes literally. Even when Mondo would get so fucking nasty, making tears build up in the kid’s eyes, frustration clear in his every movement.
For almost two weeks this occurred, again and again and again, and Mondo... Mondo doesn’t know why the kid doesn’t just leave him already. Why he doesn’t just say ‘the hell with it,’ realize Mondo isn’t fucking worth it, and leave his ass. Like every other person on the face of this goddamn planet...
It’s only a matter of time until he does, though. Leave him. It’s what always was going to happen, since Mondo couldn’t ever hope to hold onto someone so very, very good. So very, very nice. Mondo is poison. He’s gas. He only knows how to destroy and break and hurt.
He’s not allowed something nice.
He’s not allowed someone nice.
He’s just...
Not worthy of it.
Case in fucking point...
“Look. Owada-kun,” Ishimaru spits, hands clenched around the stupid glasses case that he for some reason has (Mondo doesn’t even know how he’d gotten a hold of them, shit), looking like he wants to crush them, shit. “I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this! You picked them out! You said they were fine! Why! Why have you changed your mind!”
Mondo scowls at the words, heart racing and swirling and hurting, hurting, hurting, and he doesn’t wanna be doing this, wants to stop, but he can’t, he can’t, he fucking can’t! He doesn’t know how to stop this, doesn’t know how to make this go away, all he knows how to do is break and hurt and destroy, destroy, destroy-
“I ain’t changed shit! I never fuckin’ agreed ta wear fuckin’ glasses, now get the fuck outta my face!”
It’s a lie. They both know it’s a lie, he can see the anger rising on Ishimaru’s face as he processes the abject lie. Mondo had, in fact, agreed on the glasses, had even kinda liked them, but he can’t concede that, can’t say he does, if he does then- then that means he’s okay with this, this weird thing he has going on with Ishimaru, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that, handle the proof that Ishimaru is so fucking amazing, the proof that Mondo doesn’t fucking deserve him, proof that... t-that he...
Mondo can’t take it. He can’t fucking take it! He tries to leave, to get away, to fucking end this shit already, but then Ishimaru is grabbing hold of him, holding so fucking tight, and Mondo tries to break free, tries to get away, but the kid just doesn’t fucking let go, and Mondo is so fucking freaked out, he just wants to leave, please god, let him just leave, don’t let him break this fucking kid again, god, please-
“You-! You are the most infuriating, pig-headed, arrogant... jerk I have ever had the misfortune to meet! If I never saw your face again, it wouldn’t be long enough!”
“Oh, I’m so wounded, please don’t call me anymore fuckin’ names like that, how the fuck am I ever gonna recover?!” Mondo snarls, sarcasm so thick he’s sure even Ishimaru will be able to pick up on it, wanting to stop but not being able to. “Grow the fuck up, ya cock suckin’ assfucker! Learn some better fuckin’ insults or don’t even bother tryin’ ta play!”
“Just because I am too sophisticated to resort to such foul language does not mean anything! You may be a lowly, classless heathen, but I, for one, refuse-”
“Oh, so now ya think yer fuckin’ better than me?! I told ya already, y’ain’t goddamn shit, Ishimaru! Ain’t no shit at all!”
“I am one hundred times the man you will ever hope to be! And if I’m not... feces, then you’re not even worth anything at all! Y-you’re... you’re an amoeba, so tiny and insignificant that it’s a miracle you think you’re relevant at all!”
“What the fuck did ya call me, ya son ofa bitch?!”
Mondo sees the kid open his mouth— likely to fire something back, barely any space between them— holding onto Mondo’s arm so fucking tight, like his life depends on it or something, looking so fucking pissed and angry and hurt and fucking beautiful, so fucking beautiful, god fucking damnit-
But before the kid can say anything, another voice pipes up, the same voice as earlier, making Mondo’s rage reach a paramount, oh god-
“Aw, come on! I thought you guys resolved things already, do you really have to do this?! Please!”
Mondo turns to the fucking eavesdropper, snarling at the beyond fucking average boy. Naegi turns super fucking pale at the look, but he doesn’t cower away for once. Mondo doesn’t care. He’s far passed the point of caring.
“I told ya ta stay the fuck outta this!”
Naegi frowns, but Mondo doesn’t give him a chance to say any other stupid ass thing before he’s turning back to Ishimaru, eyes practically spitting fire as he stares so deep into Ishimaru’s that it feels almost like a physical embrace. It makes Mondo’s breath hitch for some stupid fucking reason, his stomach swirling as he looks deep into the most gorgeous fucking eyes he’s ever fucking seen-
But he can’t feel things like that, so he pushes it firmly away.
He can hear their eavesdropper fucking sigh, soft and almost disappointed, and that should make Mondo even angrier, but something in Mondo is feeling so fucking weird now. G-god... he doesn’t even know how to begin to describe it, other than it feels like he’s on fire, but not even in a bad way. Ishimaru is staring at him, eyes wide, anger in them, but also something else, something Mondo can’t understand, no matter how much he fucking wants to.
He can’t let this end here. He wants to let it end, but he fucking can’t. He... h-he needs to figure out how to settle this, how to make this stop, how to not be as fucking pathetic as he knows he is. He... he needs to prove that he’s not as worthless as they both know he is, as weak, as nothing, so fucking nothing. Everyone knows it, knows he doesn’t belong here, knows that Ishimaru is so much better than him it’s not funny, but he- he needs to prove that he has something going for him, that he... he can do something, even if he’s worthless in every other regard, every other aspect, even if Ishimaru is better than him everywhere else he just needs to prove he can beat him at fucking something, god-
He’s issuing the challenge before he can stop himself.
And god, is he so fucking afraid.
“You think yer so perfect, don’t ya, Ishimaru? Think yer better than me? Well... well, yer not, an’ I can fuckin’ prove it. I bet I can beat you, hands down, any day of the fuckin’ week. Y’ain’t better than me, ya shit fuck. Y’ain’t nothin’,” Mondo hisses, lying through his fucking teeth. Ishimaru is better than him. He knows it. He’s always known it. He hates it, though. Not being good enough. Not being worthy. He... he wants to be. Good enough. For... f-for...
Ishimaru’s eyes are shiny again, even despite his glare.
Typical.
“What?! Y-you guys aren’t going to- to fight, are you? Guys-!”
Mondo breaks his stare down with Ishimaru to shoot that goddamn fucking bastard a single, solitary sneer, before turning back to Ishimaru, chest heaving with all the emotions he carries within him.
“Nah. Ground floor, there’s a sauna. Ya know it?”
Ishimaru blinks slowly, sluggish, before nodding slightly, looking very fucking confused. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are pulled down, and he looks so fucking cute stupid, god. After a moment, though, it seems he understands what Mondo is getting at, the challenge he is suggesting, as his face lights up, eyes bright and passionate once more, an honest to god grin on his face.
Holy fucking shit...
“Aha! A simple endurance challenge! If that is your gauntlet, then I happily accept! I will wipe the floor with you!”
Despite the anger that is still flowing through him, Mondo can’t help the small smile that passes on his lips, something about the enthusiasm so fucking... not cute, not cute, not cute at all, but maybe, a little, teeny tiny bit... endearing? He pushes it away, though. It’s not helpful, here.
“Yer fuckin’ on. And you,” Mondo points blindly to Naegi— who ‘eeps’ at the gesture, fucking coward he is— not able to look away from Ishimaru for a single fucking second, “will be our witness. Got it?!”
As intently as Mondo is staring at Ishimaru, he doesn’t see the other kid’s response, but he can hear how Naegi splutters, the kid clearly not as enthusiastic about the idea as Ishimaru and himself are. Bastard.
“W-what?! Now?! B-but it’s so late... g-guys, are you sure this is a- a good idea-?!”
“Yes, ya fuckin’ moron, it’s a fuckin’ great idea!” Mondo snarls, at the exact same time Ishimaru— eyes bright and feverish— exclaims, “yes! It is an excellent idea!”
Uncomfortable at their agreement, Mondo finally tears his eyes away, ignoring the churning feeling in his chest as he storms down the hall to where the bathhouse is, mere meters away. Ishimaru stares after him for a stunned second, but quickly spurs himself into motion, using his long-ish legs to catch up quick, head held high as they march determinedly on. God... he’s so fucking...
Shit.
When they reach the bathhouse a few moments later, Mondo firmly pushes aside the rational voice inside him that is screaming at him not to do this. He knows his limits when it comes to endurance. While he’s not the best at running, he has great endurance for other things, especially pain and discomfort. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~)
But Ishimaru... fuck. He’s so fucking passionate, so fucking determined, but who knows what his endurance is like? If he’ll be able to keep up? And it shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t give Mondo pause, but he... he can’t help the stab of concern that fills him as they enter the room, Mondo grabbing a ‘closed for repairs’ sign and putting it in front of the entrance, not wanting anyone to interrupt.
He hates the feeling and pushes it away as he turns to glare at Ishimaru, pointing a finger, not wanting to deal with such weakness, but he... he can’t quite manage to force it fully away...
Shit.
“Alright, here’s the fuckin’ terms. First ta tap out is a fuckin’ bitch ass loser who ain’t worth shit. The one who lasts the longest is the official winner. We ain’t allowed ta touch the other or do anythin’ ta them directly, this is strictly an endurance challenge. Oh, an’ we’re gonna do this fully clothed. What do ya say?!”
Mondo sees Ishimaru’s eyes widen when he gets to the last term, the kid fucking shaking his head sharply in denial. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. He’d added that last clause in last minute, realizing as he detailed the rules that they were gonna be fucking half fucking naked in there, and his mind had shorted the fuck out. He’s been in saunas fully clothed before, he knows he can handle it, but he isn’t fucking sure he can handle sitting nearly nude beside Ishi-fucking-maru...
But of course, the kid wouldn’t fucking agree. Of fucking course...
“I do not agree to that last term, but I agree to the rest!”
Glad his angry flush fully disguises the fucking embarrassed flush he can feel rising on his face, Mondo just nods tensely, sneering, as he storms over to the water cooler in the corner.
“Alright, whatever, fucker. Ya got five minutes ta prepare. Then, we’re fuckin’ doin’ this shit.”
With that, Mondo grabs a paper cup and downs some water, feeling so impossibly tense. He can feel Ishimaru staring at him, mouth partially open, but he gets spurned into action when Naegi shifts awkwardly beside him, chasing the kid away to one of the lockers, where he... he fucking...
Starts taking off his fucking clothes...
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Mondo is staring. Mondo knows he shouldn’t be staring, knows it’s wrong to be staring, but he can’t fucking help it. His eyes are like magnets, drawn to the kid, watching as he takes off all of his fucking layers, folding each one so neatly and carefully as he sticks them in the small fucking locker. The kid hesitates a little when he gets to his fucking tighty-whities (of course the kid wears that shit, of fucking course), but ultimately, he doesn’t take them off. Instead, he bites his lip and grabs a white towel, wrapping it firmly around his waist before putting the rest of his stuff away. Mondo firmly pushes down the stupid as shit rush of disappointment and tells himself to stop staring, to look away, but god, he fucking can’t. Ishimaru, he...
He’s so fucking gorgeous, so fucking hot, so fucking sexy-
Mondo feels himself heat the fuck up when Ishimaru turns abruptly and looks him straight in the eyes, looking fucking startled at something. Feeling strangely caught, Mondo looks away as quick as he can, pushing away the stupid as shit thoughts, marching over to a locker stiffly. Shit... he’s gotta fucking get laid one of these days. The tension is doing fucked up shit to his brain...
He takes his time putting some of his more fragile shit away, like his crappy cellphone and his key card. He does, honestly, consider taking off his uniform, or at least taking off his duster, but he just... shit. Can’t. Not with how strange he feels inside, his mind’s eye still stupidly forcing him to think of Ishimaru, his stupidly muscular back flexing with every move he made. It means nothing, fucking nothing, but he... shit. It prolly would be better to remain fully clothed, duster included, even if it does put him at a disadvantage. But ya know what, whatever. Doesn’t matter. He knows his limits and knows that he can last longer in the sauna than Ishimaru, even when fully clothed. Shit...
When the five minutes he gave them are up, he meets up with Ishimaru outside the entrance to the sauna, fully intending to slide it open and step inside, when-
“Owada-kun, you cannot seriously be considering entering the sauna fully clothed! It’s suicide!” Ishimaru exclaims, sounding fucking concerned as shit. His eyes are wide, and his brows are furrowed, and he’s biting his fucking lip, god fucking damn, and it’s messing with Mondo’s head so fucking much. Why... why the fuck would he care?! Huh?! They’re not fucking friends! Why would he care if Mondo did try and kill himself, huh?! World would fucking be better off for it, shit!
Deciding to definitely not say that, Mondo just sneers at the kid, crossing his arms stubbornly.
“Just ‘cuz yer a fuckin’ pansy ass bitch don’t mean I am! Now, ya ready ta do this, or are ya a fuckin’ chicken?!”
His face flushed, Ishimaru doesn’t even bother to answer, instead just yanking open the door and entering the sauna with a stubborn tilt to his jaw.
Staring after the kid for a split second (pushing down the disappointment that he didn’t press the issue harder, proving to Mondo how fucking right he is), Mondo enters on Ishimaru’s heels, the heat not even bothering him one bit.
It’s nothing compared to the fire that constantly burns within him.
Sliding the door shut behind him, leaving Naegi outside to do whatever the fuck he wants while the contest takes place, Mondo marches over to where Ishimaru is sitting, taking a seat an arm’s length away. He can feel bright red eyes on him, but he determinedly pushes the feeling away, trading a few snide comments with the kid, not even feeling the heat really.
About ten minutes in, Mondo will admit the heat is getting to him a little, a thin sheen of sweat making its way onto his skin, which is more uncomfortable than anything. Ishimaru looks a little woozy, so Mondo taunts that the kid should just give up now. Ishimaru just laughs, saying how he never gives up, ever. Fucking pretentious bastard.
After half an hour, he can admit he is feeling kinda uncomfortable, the heat becoming somewhat unpleasant, but he’s still feeling pretty good, all things considered. Ishimaru looks flushed as all hell, though, his cheeks bright red and sweat clinging to his muscles. The kid tells him— unprompted— that he’s doing fine, and Mondo’s brain feels too stupid to allow him to do much else than glare, shit...
After around fifty minutes, the kid... he looks fucking awful. Mondo isn’t doing too hot, the uncomfortable feeling spreading to be extremely uncomfortable, but he knows he can handle it. The kid, though... he looks like he’s starting to lose it. Ishimaru mentions absently that he’s starting to feel cold, which honestly concerns Mondo, since he knows that shit is a bad sign, but his head is too stupid to remember why, so he just says it’s prolly not good. The kid doesn’t call it quits, though.
Instead, he actually... talks... huh.
“Y-you can take off your uniform... if you w-want... I- I won’t judge...” the boy mumbles, sounding super fucking exhausted. Mondo tries to snort, but it’s a lot harder than it should be, shit.
“N-nah... I’m... I’m... I’m good,” Mondo finds himself muttering back, looking at the kid intensely, wondering why he isn’t giving up when he so clearly feels sick. Mondo finds himself muttering about how red Ishimaru’s is, likening him to a hot spring monkey, of all things. The kid mumbles back about being born with a red face, which makes no fucking sense, but ya know what? He’s too tired to waste energy on this shit. He’s got a challenge to win.
After what he figures is an hour and five minutes, the warning bell rings, telling them they have five minutes until curfew. Mondo figures the hall monitor will end this now, since he wouldn’t dare stay out past curfew and risk breaking one of his ‘precious rules,’ but the kid doesn’t seem to even notice the bell had rung. S-shit... that... that’s not good, is it...?
Mondo gets distracted from his stupid as shit concern when a new voice pipes up, shocking Mondo. Huh... he hadn’t realized the kid was still out there. Shit.
“U-uh guys? It’s almost curfew, shouldn’t you... stop? I know you both want to prove how big of badasses you are but... don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
Mondo scowls at the meaning of the words, knowing that he sure as shit ain’t gonna back down first. He’s already so worthless. He’s gotta prove that he can at least do this, of all fucking things.
“Shut up!” he barks, at the same time Ishimaru does, making him feel fucking wigged out at how they’re both on the same page again.
Naegi replies back to them, saying something about it being nighttime, and a tie... it honestly offends Mondo, but before he can reply, the kid is... talking... saying something about how in a true competition, there are no ties. That you either win or you lose, and that... that’s the only thing that matters. It honestly kinda pisses Mondo off, even if he agrees fully, so he fires back how he will push the kid right up to the gates of hell, meaning it fully.
He tells Naegi to leave then, knowing that this might drag on a lot longer than he had anticipated. Shit. He knew Ishimaru was fucking stubborn as shit, willing to do absolutely anything to reach his goals, but this... this is just madness. Utter madness. As Naegi leaves, Mondo cannot help how he stares at the hall monitor, who looks so fucking sick right now. He does his best to ignore it, to wait the kid out, but when roughly fifteen more minutes pass and the kid isn’t tapping out, despite looking half dead, he... he can’t help the worry that he feels. And then, when the kid closes his eyes, barely breathing, Mondo... s-shit...
“Hey... man... are you... are you okay...? Ya don’t... don’t look so good...”
Mondo listens, getting really kinda freaked, when Ishimaru lets out a soft puff of air, almost like he’s trying to laugh but can’t find the energy. He lolls his head over to Mondo, the first movement he’s done in minutes, but his eyes are still closed, which looks so fucking freaky. It takes him far longer than it should to open his eyes, and when he does, they... shit. They look glazed, like the kid isn’t fucking in there, like he... he’s...
Already dead...
F-fuck...
It really does look like that, though. Eyes glazed, mouth partially open, chest so scarily still... o-oh, shit. Shit, what if he... what if he is dead...?! Y-yeah, he just moved, but he- he looks so still, it... Mondo...
But then the kid is speaking, and he sounds so very out of it, but at least he’s alive, thank god...
“I- I’m... I’m fine, I...”
Oh, shit... no, he... he’s not fine, is he...? Shit... s-shit...
“Shit... man... no, y’ain’t. I know my... my limits. I’ve got some time... left in me... but you... shit. Just give up, dude. Just... just give... up...”
It makes something in Mondo clench when he sees the kid’s face screw up, like he wants to cry but just has no tears left within him. And then he... he’s speaking...
“No... n-no, I can’t... I- I can’t... give up... I have to... have to...”
The kid stops, then, and Mondo feels so fucking confused, his head all stupid because of the heat, making it hard to think. What? He has to... what?
“Hafta... what? What... is so important... ta ya?”
The kid blinks, like he hadn’t expected to be spoken to, before opening his mouth and muttering words. It... it’s like the kid doesn’t even know he’s speaking, the words sounding so fucking slurred and soft. Mondo has to strain to hear them, even though the silence is oppressive between them.
“I can’t... give up... must... restore... honor... family... f-family name...”
Mondo furrows his eyebrows, his lips turned down in a frown, not... not understanding...
“Yer family... name? What… what about it?”
Ishimaru blinks, like he can barely understand what Mondo is saying, and fuck is that scary...
“I must... fix his mistakes. I must... I must bring honor t-to... to our name... my grandfather...”
Okay, that... that doesn’t make any fucking sense... his grandfather? The fuck? Shit... Ishimaru needs to stop this, he... he’s not making any sense...
“What? The fuck... the fuck ya talkin’ ‘bout, man? Shit... Ishimaru, yer ‘bout ta... ta fuckin’ pass out... why can’t ya just... just give up, man?”
Ishimaru isn’t looking at him anymore and is instead staring blankly at the steam that is billowing around them, looking like he’s not aware where the fuck he is. It makes Mondo’s stomach clench, the concern rising. He... he doesn’t wanna give up, needs to prove himself, but he... Ishimaru... f-fuck...
And then... Ishimaru starts talking again...
“It... it’s all up to me to fix it... t-to make it better... m-make it- it right-! I... I can’t... give up, I... I’m not... not allowed to... give up... giving up is- is wrong... and immoral, and- and I am not wrong! I... I’m not- not immoral... I... I’m better... better than my grandfather... better than myself... better... than...”
Okay. Okay. Okay, it’s official. Mondo is fucking freaked the fuck out. What... what does any of that even mean? He... Ishimaru...
“Fuck, dude, yer- yer scarin’ me... what the hell does… does any a’ that even… even mean? Yer the fuckin’... Ultimate Moral Compass... ‘course yer not- not... immoral...”
Ishimaru is shaking now, eyes still glazed, staring at the steam as if it holds the answer to life itself. And fuck... it’s so fucking creepy...
“But I am, I am... I’m worthless, I’m nothing... my grandfather... he’d done so many terrible things, had hurt s-so many people... he’d ruined... ruined Japan... e-everyone hated him... hated me... I have to do better... to be better... to fix... my grandfather’s... mistakes...”
His grandfather? Who the fuck is his grandfather? And why... why does he even matter? Even if he was so fucking terrible, Ishimaru... he ain’t... he...
“Dude... y’ain’t... ain’t yer grandfather... yer yer own person... an’ frankly... I kinda... kinda like... s-shit. Just... stop this, man. Just admit it. Admit it’s... too much...”
The kid shakes his head, and Mondo doesn’t know how he’s able to even hear him, as far fucking gone as he looks, but fuck, he’s clearly responding, ain’t he...?
“Nnnn- n-no! I- I... I can’t... can’t admit... weakness... god I’m so... so weak... pathetic... the children, they’re right about me, they’re all so... so right... I’ll never... amount to- to anything... I’m worthless... pathetic... scum...”
H-holy shit... Ishimaru he... he can’t fucking believe that... can he? No... n-no, he... he ain’t none of that shit, Mondo is, Mondo is, but not- not Ishimaru! He... he’s fucking... he...
“Ishimaru... Ishimaru, stop... s-stop! Y’ain’t... none a’ that is... is true... yer the best... goddamn person I ever... ever met, ya... ya never gave up on me... no matter how horrible I treated ya... ya just... wouldn’t leave... I tried ta make ya leave, why... why wouldn’t ya leave...”
He hadn’t meant to ask the question, voice so fucking soft, but he couldn’t help it. It’s been plaguing him for weeks now, wondering why... why Ishimaru bothered staying... why he didn’t just leave his ass... why he didn’t just... give up on him... like everyone always does...
“Me... leave? Why? Where would I... go...? I’ve n-never... had a friend... if this is... is friendship... then what else can I... do? I don’t... w-wanna... be...... alone.........”
Oh... oh, shit... suddenly, so many things make so much fucking sense. Why the kid always seems so fucking nervous and awkward around people, though he tries his damndest to hide it. Why he is always alone, never seen really talking to anyone, not without a reason. Why he always... always does his best to extend olive branches to people, offering to tutor or help or do whatever is needed to... to get them to talk to him... g-god... he never would have thought the kid would have no friends, even though it’s so fucking obvious when Mondo thinks about it. He’s just... he’s just so fucking bright and full of sunshine... Mondo can’t imagine people seeing that and not... not wanting to...
It’s right then, in that moment, brain stupid from heat, halfway gone but not fully gone yet, that Mondo... Mondo makes a decision.
If they survive this stupid fucking challenge... he... he will be Ishimaru— no, Kiyotaka, his name is- is Kiyotaka... he will be Kiyotaka’s friend... and he will be a fucking good one, the friend that the kid... that he fucking deserves...
If the kid even wants to be friends with him...
“Fuckin’... shit, man. Yer not... alone... I’m here. Ishimaru... Kiyotaka... I’m right... right here...”
The kid shakes his head, breath still shallow, but now it’s wavering, shaking... trembling... g-god... fuck...
“No... no... I’m alone, I’m alone. Everyone... always leaves... my mother... my grandfather... even my father would leave... if he could... he’s never... never understood me. No one... understands me... I don’t... even... understand...... myself..........”
Oh. Oh. Oh. This... this poor fucking boy... he... s-shit. Shit... this... they gotta fucking stop this... they...
“I... I understand ya. Yer... yer like me... ain’t ya? Shit. We gotta... gotta stop this, man... what are ya... tryin’... ta prove?”
Kiyotaka is shaking again, looking like he wants to cry but just... can’t. God... god... fucking... god.
“Everything. Everything. Every… everything… I have to prove them... wrong. I have to prove... that I can do this. If I... if I give up... i-if I let myself give up... then I fail. I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail. I c-can’t... fail, I can’t... g-give up... or else... what is... the point... of me...?”
Point? The point? Why... why does he have to have a point? Shit... he’s so fucking amazing, he... he doesn’t have to have a point... no more than just... just being...
“Ain’t gotta... have a point man... ya can just... be. Be... Kiyotaka. What’s so wrong... with that?”
The blank look on the kid’s face grows, his voice soft, weak. Trembling, like he doesn’t mean to say it, like he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Mondo has never heard someone sound so... so... dead before... h-holy shit...
“Everything. Everything. Everything. E-everything... is wrong with... me... I- I’m too... too much. T-too passionate... too vibrant... I- I hurt... hurt my own eyes... I hate... l-looking at myself... hate... b-being myself... if I could... be someone else... I- I would... gladly...”
No. No. No, fucking... no! Ish- Kiyo... Kiyotaka can’t fucking believe that... yeah, he’s so fucking passionate, so fucking bright, but that... that’s not a bad thing... he... he’s so fucking good... so fucking... amazing... and he... Mondo wouldn’t...
“I wouldn’t. Want that. Yer... fuck. Yer somethin’... somethin’ special... I thought I... I hated that ‘bout you, but... man you... you shine... I don’t deserve... someone as... as wonderful... as you...”
Kiyotaka is shaking his head again, barely breathing, looking so dead, so very, very... dead...
Oh, god...
“I- I’m not... wonderful. I’m not... anything. T-the children... they hated me... t-they all... hated me. My f-father... hates me. My mother... if she could s-see me... now... s-she’d hate me... too. Why... w-why do I bother... trying...? W-why... why don’t I just... g-give up...”
N-no... no, no, god, please... no... Mondo feels pressure behind his eyes, and he doesn’t think he has ever felt such pain. Because that... that sounds so goddamn familiar... he always has seen Kiyotaka as so different to him, so much better, so much brighter. But if the kid is to be believed... he... he thinks of himself like... like Mondo thinks of himself, and he... he can’t... can’t fucking stand that thought, oh god...
“Kiyo... Kiyota- Taka. Kiyo... Taka. Just... ya don’t hafta... give up... but yer... yer gonna kill yerself if ya... keep this up... s-shit...”
Mondo feels himself go cold when Kiyotaka responds, sounding half dead, looking so... so nothing...
“Kill... myself? No... I’m not- not that weak... not anymore... not... n-not again... but maybe... maybe... m-maybe it would be better. If I weren’t... weren’t...” a pause. “Alive...”
What?! No... no, no.... nonononononononononono-!!! He... he can’t... he can’t-
“What?! Dude... no... god... fuckin’... dammit! Ya can’t be... serious... Kiyo... Taka, ya can’t...”
“I am. I am. I- I am. If I wasn’t... so weak. If I wasn’t... s-so afraid. I know... k-know how to fix it... a-all of it. How to... t-to make it better. My father... would be happier. The children... w-would be happier. And I... I... I’d be... I’d be...”
A pause. Inhalation of breath. And then... softly, so fucking softly...
“Dead...”
No. No. No, fucking-! No. This... this is so fucking stupid, why is Mondo doing this, he... he has to stop this. This kid ain’t gonna stop, he can’t fucking stop, he won’t stop until he is fucking dead, and Mondo... Mondo can’t... he fucking can’t-
He can’t lose someone else... not during another fucking challenge that he fucking issued... he just... can’t.
“Okay. That’s it. This ain’t... fuckin’ worth it. If y’ain’t... gonna quit... then I! I fuckin’... I fuckin’ will. Ya... ya win... Kiyo... Taka... ya... ya win. Now, c’mon, man. Let’s… let’s get outta here.”
With all the strength he has left, Mondo stands and hobbles over to where Kiyotaka is sitting, looking like a puppet with its strings cut. He’s not moving, barely breathing, and his eyes are so glazed over Mondo doesn’t think he can even see right now. Mondo has never seen someone look so still before, and it scares the ever-loving shit out of him. Especially now that he... he knows that... that the kid has tried... or at least wanted...
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
But he doesn’t have time to hate himself for issuing this stupid ass challenge. He doesn’t have time to waste. Gathering all his strength, he bends down, and he wraps an arm around Kiyotaka, heart stopping when he feels how boneless he is, not moving at all. But then, as he starts moving towards the door, he feels the kid start to struggle. It’s weak and doesn’t sway Mondo even a second, but fuck does it relieve him. The kid is even able to walk a little, barely. It... it’s good.
The second he manages to get the door open, however, the cool air almost torture on his overheated skin, he feels Kiyotaka gasp, all the fragile strength he had gone as his knees buckle, making him deadweight. But Mondo hasn’t spent the majority of his life lifting weights for nothing, so he just adjusts his grip, taking on more of the kid’s weight. He doesn’t lift him, doesn’t have time for that, but he drags him bodily over to the bench, accidentally throwing him on it since he’s not really at a hundred percent himself. He sees the kid start to topple, then, and he immediately moves forward to steady the kid, the skin under his hands far, far too warm. Oh... shit, that’s not... not good, oh fuck...
“Goddamn shit. Ya look... fuck man. Why didn’t ya just... dammit. Ya need water... I’ll be right back.”
Mondo stand abruptly then, feeling clumsy and wrong. His chest feels so fucking painful, like it’s being sat on by an elephant, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more concerned for anyone. Well... other than one person... but shit, he can’t think of him, not now. Not now. Not when Kiyotaka needs him. He takes off his duster as he strides forward, tossing it carelessly on a bench, too fucking hot to deal with that shit. He needs to go quick, needs to... to get back to Kiyotaka... and he needs to drink some water himself, fuck, he’s so fucking dehydrated... fuck.
However... once he’s at the water cooler, filling up one of the paper cups for himself to drink, he hears the kid muttering again, the words making no goddamn sense, but damn if it doesn’t make his heart clench...
“...they won’t, they won’t, they won’t... I’m alone, again... all alone... everyone has left... everyone leaves me in the end... why would I expect anything different... why would I expect-“
Shit. Shit. Shit. Mondo quickly finishes filling the cup and downs it, filling the second one as quickly as possible while the kid rambles on about being alone again. As soon as the cup is full Mondo practically teleports back to the kid’s side, an odd sense in him that he never, ever wants to be anywhere else...
“Shit, Kiyotaka, I’m here. I just... had ta drink myself, shit. Now c’mon. Drink this. Please, man. Fer me. I can’t... ya can’t fuckin’ die on me, man... f-fuck...”
He carefully places his hand on the back of Kiyotaka’s neck, lifting it gently up, so he can get the kid to drink some water. He knows that the boy is prolly dehydrated as fuck, and he seriously hopes that’s the only thing wrong with him, because if it isn’t... s-shit. He can feel Kiyotaka struggle as he moves him, his lips moving, muttering those fucking words again...
“W-why am I so weak, I need to... to be stronger... to be... better...”
God, is everything this kid says gonna make his heart break? God... he’s not equipped for this, he doesn’t know how to be kind, to be gentle, but after all the shit he has done, all the pain and misery he has needlessly made this wondrous, incredible, sad fucking boy go through... he owes it to him to not only try, but to succeed.
Even if it fucking kills him...
“Shh... hey, it’s okay. Y’ain’t fuckin’ weak, man, yer goddamn incredible. Now c’mon. Stop fightin’ me. Let me take care a’ you. You... you’ve been so strong fer so long. Let me... let me help you...”
With that, he slowly presses the cup against the kid’s lips, and he feels as he struggles, whimpering softly, scared. Shit, he... he prolly has no idea what the fuck is going on, is so fucking disoriented...
He begins whispering to the kid then, not knowing what to say, but just... knowing he has to say something, something soothing. He hums softly as he decides to just... let the soft words that he’s been gathering for weeks now out of his heart, telling Kiyotaka that he is there, that he will always be there, promising that he’s not alone, that he’ll never be alone again, that Mondo will take care of him, he promises... he promises...
And then he... he says...
“Open up, Kiyotaka, shit. P-please... I’m beggin’ ya man... just... drink some water...”
The kid... Kiyotaka stops struggling then, and finally, finally opens his lips. It’s just a little, a small amount, but it’s enough for a small trickle of water to get passed his dry and cracked lips, which is so fucking relieving. But then... then the kid startles again, a soft sound of distress getting released as he panics, taking too much water too quick. Oh, shit...
So fucking scared, not knowing what to do but knowing he has to do something, Mondo lowers the hand holding the cup but doesn’t put it down, moving his other hand to rub soothing circles on the kid’s back, shushing him softly.
“Aw, shit. Slowly, man, slowly. That’s it, nice an’ easy... I’m gonna try that again, okay? Go slow this time. Idiot.”
With that, Mondo moves his hand back to Kiyotaka’s neck and brings the cup back up to his lips, praying that he will drink this time. He’s so fucking dehydrated and if he won’t drink, Mondo is gonna have to call an ambulance or some shit, because he needs liquid, and fast.
Luckily, this time when he asks the kid to open up, he does so immediately. And then, when he tips a little of the liquid into his mouth, the kid doesn’t panic and just... sips it. Slowly. Mondo can see his throat working, moving slowly, swallowing the water, and fuck... he’s never felt so relieved in his life, watching the kid drink some fucking water, god...
However, then the kid is letting out a sound of desperation, seeming to realize that he is so fucking thirsty or something. He sees the kid’s hands try to come up, wavering so fucking much as they try and force the water down faster, but Mondo stops him, knowing he needs to go slow.
“Aw, shit man, stop! Ya gotta go slow. Yer dehydrated, ya can’t drink it too fast... trust me, man. I got you. I won’t let you down. Not again. I… I promise.”
And he means it. He fucking means it. He has failed this kid so many fucking times, but he won’t this time, and he never will again. Because now he... he knows that this kid fucking matters. He’s always known that, from the minute the kid had run into him and knocked his world on its side, but- but he... he’s always been so afraid of it. Of the feeling. Of what it means.
But he’s not afraid of it. Not now. Not... not anymore. He doesn’t know why he feels this way, why this boy matters so fucking much to him, but it just doesn’t matter now, and he refuses to let his goddamn fucking nonsense ruin this shit anymore. This kid has faced some truly horrible fucking things, things that Mondo has barely scratched the surface of but can tell have damaged the kid so fucking much. He has scars all over his chest and back, which Mondo has noticed before, of course he’s noticed them, but now he’s really starting to realize what exactly they mean, and it just... it’s fucking him up inside, and all he wants is to bundle this kid up and never let him get hurt again, keep him safe from all harm, and Mondo has always felt like that, always wanted that, but now, for once...
He’s not afraid of it.
And he won’t back down.
Not unless Kiyotaka wants him to...
(But even then. Even then, Mondo will do everything he can to keep him safe. He won’t stalk the kid, but he will make sure that no one dares to lay a finger on him. He’s firmly under Mondo’s protection now. Nothing will change that. Absolutely nothing.)
Knowing that Kiyotaka needs to drink more, so he’s not so weak (physically. He’s so fucking strong emotionally, so fucking strong) anymore, he presses the cup back to the boy’s lips, his heart lurching softly when the kid immediately opens up and drinks, slowly, not even needing Mondo to remind him to go slow and steady. Mondo is so fucking proud of the kid, like a fucking mother hen, but he doesn’t care. This kid deserves all the softness in the world. If there’s one thing Mondo is sure of, it’s that.
It doesn’t take long for the cup to run empty, but the kid needs more, so Mondo gets up to refill the cup. But then he’s fucking crying, sad and pitiful, and Mondo immediately returns, holding him close, saying to him, “aw, shit, I’m just getting more water, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.”
And when Mondo is forced to leave again— though god does he not want to— he keeps talking. Promising that he’ll be right back, that he’s not leaving, that he will never leave again... promises that he will never break, and not just because he doesn’t break promises, but because he fucking means the shit out of them. More than any promise he’s ever made before.
He’s back soon after, bringing two cups with him this time, helping Kiyotaka drink, and drink, and drink. Mondo doesn’t know much about severe dehydration, just knows that it’s important for the person to be given fluids, preferably sports drinks, but since he doesn’t have that shit, water will have to do. If Kiyotaka doesn’t get better after the third cup, Mondo’s gonna try and see if he can take him to the nurse if the lady is still there. If not... shit. He’ll prolly have to call an ambulance, since he doesn’t think Kiyotaka could handle riding on his hog to the hospital, which is at least a ten-minute ride away. He’s hoping he won’t have to do that, though. Hopes that drinking the water will be enough to help him. He also hopes that it’s just dehydration that’s the problem... fuck.
The good thing is that Kiyotaka is drinking willingly. And the more he drinks, the more lucid he appears. He still seems very out of it, but about halfway through the third cup, he starts blinking rapidly, like waking himself from a dream. His eyebrows furrow, and he starts looking around a bit. He takes in the bathhouse and even looks down at his chest, like he’s just then noticing that he’s half naked. Mondo allows him to do this, but always makes sure the kid is still drinking, wanting to make sure he gets at least three cups in, since he had to have lost a lot of water while sweating. Mondo himself isn’t feeling too hot and knows he needs to drink more, too, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t ensure that Kiyotaka is okay before doing anything else for himself.
Mondo knows the exact second that things slot into place for the kid, since one second he’s loose and pliant in his arms, allowing him to hold his neck and give him the water, and the next he’s sitting ramrod straight, eyes wide. It startles Mondo a bit and he straightens up from the hunch he’d found himself in, so fucking relieved to see some lucidity in those bright red eyes. Fuck, but was that glazed look terrifying...
“Oh, shit. Are ya back? Ya really fuckin’ scared me there, dude, the fuck...? I was ‘bout ta take yer ass ta the nurse, consequences be damned. Shit, should I still do that...? Kiyotaka?”
The kid is just staring at him, his skin far too pale, his eyes moving back and forth over Mondo’s face as he seems to try to be figuring something out. They then widen somehow further and then-
“Aw, shit! Fuck, man, what the hell!”
Mondo stares wide eyed at the kid as he abruptly stands, his body shaking horribly, looking like he just saw a ghost, shit... Mondo is afraid the kid is about to collapse so he stands quickly, hands hovering to ensure he doesn’t fall, but the kid doesn’t seem to notice him. Oh... shit... he’s not better, is he? God fucking dammit...
“W-w-w-what... w-what... h-h-happened?! I... I didn’t... oh god...”
Mondo sees Kiyotaka sway then, looking like he’s about to faint, scaring the absolute shit out of Mondo. Rushing forward, he grabs the kid by his shoulders, holding him upright. Part of him wants to pull him close, to wrap him up and never let him go, but he can tell the kid is super fucking freaked out, and he doesn’t want to make him panic, shit.
“What the fuck... aw, shit, y’ain’t better. Okay, that’s it. I’m takin’ ya ta the fuckin’ nurse. Goddamnit...”
Mondo tries to move Kiyotaka, then, carefully guiding him over to the door so they can make the stupidly long walk to the nurse’s office, mind racing a mile a minute as he tries to determine if it wouldn’t just be better to call the ambulance now. On one hand, he doubts the nurse is still there, since it’s well after curfew, but on the other... calling for an ambulance means he might have to explain this shit, and he just... shit. But he needs to do right by Kiyotaka, and if that includes getting himself in trouble, he’ll fucking do it. He doesn’t care what happens to him, just as long as this wonderful, incredible boy is safe. Huh...
As distracted as Mondo is, he doesn’t expect any resistance to his movement, expecting Kiyotaka to be as pliant as he previously had been. As such, when the kid fucking pulls away from him, weak as it is, Mondo isn’t expecting it and thus is unable to keep his grip. And he watches, heart stopping, as the kid slams into the row of lockers, collapsing immediately to the ground with a soft noise of pain.
Shit!!!
“Shit! Kiyotaka, are you fuckin’ alright?! What the hell, man?! Stop bein’ an idiot and let me take ya ta the nurse, fuck!”
He doesn’t mean to sound angry or anything, he’s just so fucking scared, needing the kid to cooperate so he can just get better already and not make Mondo worry he’s gonna fucking die or something... but given the way that Kiyotaka glares at him (or tries to glare, Mondo can tell he’s still a little out of it and can’t quite put the usual amount of passion into it), he can tell the kid intends to be difficult, looking at him like he doesn’t want Mondo to come any closer or something. Mondo immediately says, ‘fuck that,’ though, and rushes to the kid’s side, kneeling down, his eyes bleeding with his concern. He watches the kid blink, some more lucidity rising within the red, as he opens his mouth to speak.
“W-wait! I don’t... dang it. I don’t need to go to the- t-the nurse! I’m just... confused. Give me... give me a moment to... collect myself!” Kiyotaka says, his chest heaving with the effort of speaking. Mondo looks at him firmly, ensuring the kid means it and that he’s not just saying random, nonsense bullshit again.
Once he’s satisfied that the kid is, in fact, lucid enough to make that decision, he nods stiffly, still feeling so very, very concerned.
“Alright... shit, fine. If ya say so. But ya gotta drink some more water, alright?! Slowly. I should drink more too, fuck...”
Mondo stands, then, and walks over to the water cooler again, hands tingling unpleasantly as he leaves Kiyotaka’s side. He quickly fills up two fresh cups of water and hurries back, handing the kid one of the cups as soon as he is by his side.
As soon as the kid takes it, Mondo flops down to sit beside him, so close they touch, and begins to drink his water, finding comfort in being able to feel the kid warm against his side. He is honestly thirsty as fuck, wanting to gulp it down again, but he forces himself to go slow, not wanting to be a hypocrite. He notices after a second that Kiyotaka isn’t drinking and is just staring at him blankly, eyes glazing over again, which scares him more than he is willing to say, fuck.
“Dude. Drink. Or I’m draggin’ ya ta the nurse, kickin’ an’ screamin’. Don’t think I won’t,” Mondo rumbles, startling the kid out of whatever fugue he’d entered into. The kid glares at him lightly, not nearly as strong as Mondo knows it could be, but at least he doesn’t try and counter him. He just brings the cup to his lips and drinks the cool water slowly, his eyes darting back and forth as he thinks hard about something. They don’t glaze over again, though, so Mondo lets him be and just drinks his water, every cell in his body so fucking aware of the kid sitting directly beside him. It honestly would scare him, how much he cares about this kid, if he’d not already decided to not care about that shit anymore. He cares about the kid. He doesn’t know why, he just does. End of fucking story.
Mondo doesn’t know how long they sit there drinking their water, and he doesn’t really care. He usually hates sitting still for so long, his skin crawling to get up and do something already, but strangely... he doesn’t really mind it too much. Sitting here, beside Kiyotaka. It... despite the worry he still feels, there’s also a strange calmness inside him now. Like... like something inside him that had been out of place and broken for years is just... gone, allowing him to breathe easy for the first time. It’s so strange but also... so very, very nice...
Eventually their cups run empty, and Mondo is about to offer to get them both some more water again when the kid speaks. His voice is low and shaky, but it sounds a lot better and more lucid than it had before, which relieves the shit out of him. But then he comprehends the words, and he...
“O-Owada... back in... in the, uh, sauna... I didn’t, um. Say anything strange. Did I?” Kiyotaka asks softly, looking very nervous. It concerns Mondo a lot that the kid apparently doesn’t remember what happened in the sauna, but he supposes it makes sense. He had been super fucking outta it...
He still takes his time to think about it. He usually just blurts out his words, no thought put into them at all, but this... shit. This matters. And he has to be so fucking careful if he doesn’t want to hurt the kid again. And god, does he not wanna do that...
Finally, he figures he’ll go the safe route and figure out what, exactly, the kid does and doesn’t remember. If he remembers nothing, then maybe... maybe it would be better to keep it that way, shit...
Ignoring the way his heart clenches at the thought, he sets his face into a carefully neutral expression, revealing nothing as he speaks, voice a low rumble.
“That depends. What do ya remember?”
Mondo watches, heart clenched strangely again, as Kiyotaka bites his lip gently, eyes unfocused as he thinks. They’re not glazed, though, so Mondo thinks he’s just concentrating, not zoning out. After a few moments, the kid glances up at him, expression open and searching. It makes Mondo want to gasp, everything in him swirling, and when the kid speaks, still looking at him, he... h-he...
“I’m… I’m not sure. It’s all... fuzzy. I can’t quite tell... what is real or not. I have no idea what I said during that last part, though... just fragments of old memories and thoughts.” Kiyotaka pauses, his hands shaking lightly. He looks away then, down at the ground, and Mondo feels so strangely bereaved... “But I... I remember you... you said... things. About- a-about me. Y-you... you called me... wonderful. Special. H-heh! H-how r-ridiculous! I must... must have been- been hallucinating! Aha!”
The kid sounds nervous, frantic, like he’s afraid Mondo will hurt him, like he’s afraid Mondo will laugh at him, will tell him that he... he’s wrong, that Mondo hadn’t said that, that he... he doesn’t believe that...
Which is bullshit. Because he did say that. And he’d meant it. Means it. Fully and completely.
Mondo consciously forces his shoulders to lose the tension that had entered them unbidden at Kiyotaka’s frantic words, sighing softly, a wry smile rising on his lips as he looks at the kid. The kid looks so fucking scared, so desperate, like he doesn’t believe that Mondo had said that shit, but that he wants to believe it.
And, shit... even if he hadn’t said it, he sure as shit would say it now. Because Kiyotaka truly is wonderful and special, ain’t he...?
Heh...
“Nah. That, uh. That happened. You really don’t remember what you said?” he asks as casually as he can, his head tilted in question, hoping he’s hiding the way his heart is racing well enough, but honestly not really caring if he’s not. He... he doesn’t want to keep shit from this kid. Not... not anymore... he watches as Kiyotaka shakes his head weakly, moving his eyes to stare at his hands again. It makes Mondo’s smile widen, eyes soft as silk. Heh. So... so fucking cute...
“Heh. Makes sense. Ya weren’t exactly all there, ya know. Kept mumblin’ bits a’ nonsense. Could barely make sense a’ ya myself, tell the truth. Somethin’... somethin’ ‘bout yer grandfather. ‘Bout needin’ ta right his wrongs. An’ then there was somethin’ ‘bout other kids? An’ hatred? Ya mentioned how yer da don’t understand ya, how he hates ya, or somethin’. An’ ‘bout how... how ya... ya hate yerself. Which I think is fuckin’ bullshit, ya shouldn’t fuckin’ hate yerself, yer incredible, but whatever. There was a lot a’ other stuff too. ‘Bout not givin’ up, ‘bout havin’ ta prove people wrong. Some other shit, too, but I don’t really ‘member it all, sorry. But... shit man. Is that... is that real? Did ya... did ya really mean alla’ that?”
Mondo doesn’t really mean to ask the question, knowing the kid needs to be allowed to rest and relax, not be asked stupid fucking questions, but he can’t help it. He’s not lying when he says he doesn’t quite remember everything. It’s all starting to blur in his head, and while he’s fairly certain he remembers the most of it, some details are starting to slip away, and he just... did the kid really say all that shit, or had he imagined it, too? Shit...
But then... then, after a moment, Kiyotaka, he... h-he...
“Aw, shit,” he mutters under his breath, which seems to just make the kid cry harder. It breaks Mondo’s heart so much, hating seeing his tears. God... this kid just always fucking cries around him, doesn’t he...? Shit... shit! H-he didn’t want to make the kid cry! G-god, he... he wants so badly to hold the kid, to keep him safe from the sorrow within him, but would the kid even want that? After everything he’s done, all he’s taken from him, would he actually want to be held in his arms? It’s his fault he’s crying, his fault he’s in this situation, and he doesn’t know if Kiyotaka would want to be anywhere near him, let alone in his arms! But he... he wants so, so badly to... t-to...
“Please, man, don’t cry, shit, I’m sorry! I... aw, fuck it. Come here.”
Mind made up, Mondo darts forward and— carefully as he possibly can— wraps an arm around the kid, pulling him gently to his chest, firm and tight. He can feel the kid struggle against him, and it kills him inside to feel it, especially when the kid starts frantically apologizing, like he thinks Mondo is going to hurt him or something. He thinks it might be best to let him go, to apologize and never touch him again, but he... h-he thinks the problem isn’t that Mondo is hugging him, but that the kid thinks Mondo is upset. So maybe... if he can reassure the kid that it’s okay, that he wants this, maybe... m-maybe he’ll stop struggling so hard... and maybe... m-maybe...
“Shhh. Shh, c’mon. It’s okay, Kiyotaka. I’m here. Y’ain’t alone. I got you. Ain’t got nothin’ ta ‘pologize fer, ya got it? Yer okay. We’re both okay.”
He keeps his arms steady on Kiyotaka, praying to any god that will listen that he’s doing the right thing, that he’s not hurting the kid more, that this is okay, and then... after a minute... after a minute...
The kid stops. Stops struggling, stops apologizing. His chest is heaving, and his eyes are still leaking tears, but he doesn’t seem distressed at Mondo holding him anymore. At least... Mondo hopes he isn’t. And then... t-then...
Kiyotaka buries his head in his chest, firm and present, hiding his face. His arms come up too, fists curling into Mondo’s tank top, clutching it like his life depends on it. And then he... he just...
Lets go.
The kid is crying so fucking hard, chest heaving, sobs loud and noisy, and fuck, does it hurt. Mondo feels so fucking helpless as he holds the kid, doing all he can to rub soothing circles on his back, whisper soft words in his ear, doing all he can to remember the shit Daiya would say when he was little and he still allowed himself to cry, not yet realizing it was wrong of him to do such a thing. He feels like it’s not enough, never enough, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s never seen the kid cry so hard before. Before he- he would always stifle it, keep it in.
Mondo hadn’t realized it at the time, but seeing the kid truly let go now, he can see just how hard he would fight to keep his tears and true sorrow contained, and he feels so much for the boy that he can’t even begin to describe it. It’s like... a sad kind of pride. Like he’s proud the kid was able to keep going despite the sorrow and despair he clearly feels, but also so, so fucking sad that the kid had to do it. That he had to keep this all in, unable to have anyone to share his burden with, to shoulder the pain and anguish he so clearly feels inside. Mondo... M-Mondo knows what that is like, what it’s like to have to always keep everything in, never let it out, and he... he hates that Kiyotaka knows it, too. The pain. The loneliness.
Maybe they really aren’t so different... are they?
Fuck... and who knows? Maybe that’s why he’s always cared so much about this kid. He... he just reminds him of him so goddamn much. Of... of the kid he used to be, before he built up walls so high around that child that he’d never see the light of day again. Of the scared little boy that he was, wondering why his parents hated him, why he was never good enough, why he didn’t fucking matter. He’d always been so scared and sad back then, so small and weak. Kinda like Kiyotaka is now, even with how fucking strong he knows this kid to usually be.
But...
But he had Daiya, didn’t he? Even when the whole world was against him, (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~) he... he always had Daiya. Daiya, who loved him. Daiya, who cared for him. Daiya who raised him, Daiya who taught him, Daiya who sacrificed fucking everything for him. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~). It didn’t matter that he was scared, or that he was weak. Daiya loved him regardless, and he always, always kept him safe.
Kiyotaka... Kiyotaka never had that... did he? He can’t say for sure, but the kid has never mentioned a sibling, either older or younger, which makes him think he’s an only, no sibs, bro or sis. Which means that he... he didn’t have anyone always on his side. Someone who would protect him no matter what. Or someone that he could protect, no matter what. His da is clearly not that great, if Kiyotaka’s words about him hating him were to go by, and his ma is gone, who knows for how long, or what his relationship was to her when she was around. He... he didn’t have someone to protect him... to keep him safe, from all harm... to... t-to love him...
Eventually the kid stops crying so hard, the desperate sobs petering out into soft, quiet ones, his breath hitching only slightly every few seconds. And then, a little while later he... he stops sobbing entirely. The tears have run dry, his body has stopped shaking, but he... he doesn’t move away. He just stays there, in Mondo’s arms.
Like he belongs there...
“Ya feelin’ better?”
The words are said softly. Gently. He doesn’t wanna spook the kid, knowing how fragile he prolly feels right about now. Mondo gets it. He hasn’t let himself cry fully in years, not even... h-heh. Well. Point is, while he’s not truly cried in years, he remembers how fragile it leaves you feeling afterward. How shaky.
And when he sees Kiyotaka’s eyes dart up, looking scared and afraid, Mondo doesn’t tense up. Doesn’t try and hide the openness on his face. He lets the kid see it. The softness. The care. The... the affection, because god, does he feel affection. He lets the kid see it, and he feels the kid settle against him, the fear vanishing, though the lingering sorrow remains. God... how Mondo wishes he could take that away...
“Yes. I... yes. M-Mondo... t-thank you. I... I’m sorry...”
Mondo can’t help the way he reaches out at that, hand gently grasping a warm, wet cheek. He realizes absently that that’s the first time the kid has said his name, and god is it making his insides squirm. And he can see the kid look at him with wide, watery eyes, lips open on a soft gasp, looking almost... dazed... shit...
“Don’t. Thank me. Apologize. Ain’t nothin’, got it? I... I didn’t mind. At all. So, don’t... don’t apologize. It’s alright. You’re... you’re alright.”
And he means it. God... does he mean it. It... it had felt nice. So very, very nice. Holding Kiyotaka. Comforting him as he cried, somehow not fucking it up as badly as he’d been fearing. He’s always been so fucking shit at comforting people, feeling like he has to be tough all the time, unable to comfort since tough people aren’t soft and sympathetic. But here, with Kiyotaka... h-he’d been able to be soft. Kind. Gentle. All the things he’s secretly yearned to be for so fucking long, but never was able to, since he doesn’t lead a life that is suited for such things. He always has to be so tough, so strong, but... but with Kiyotaka... with this wondrous, amazing, incredible, beautiful boy...
He can be soft.
And he will never be able to thank Kiyotaka enough for giving him that ability.
And when Kiyotaka smiles at him, wide, bright, unrestrained...? Mondo can’t help how he smiles back, wider than he’s ever felt it go before, heart beating so softly and yet meaningfully, feeling so very much for this precious boy. He... he’ll never be able to repay him for this... will he? For what he has given him this day... even if they are never this close again, even if Kiyotaka doesn’t want anything to do with him after this, he’ll never forget what this felt like. What it feels like to be soft. And gentle. And... and kind.
But... shit. Shit.
Now that they have this... now that he’s tasted this... what happens now? He... he doesn’t wanna...
“Shit, man. The fuck we do now? I... I don’t wanna go back ta how it was. I... shit. I was a goddamn monster ta ya these last few weeks... since we met, shit… I... goddamn it,” Mondo mutters, feeling his smile fade as pain fills him, remembering all the shit he has done to this poor, amazing kid. The shit he’s said. The way he’s acted. Kiyotaka gave him so much today, but he hadn’t earned any of it, had he...? He can see the kid shaking his head, looking frantic, like he doesn’t agree, and Mondo can’t help how he glares. Lightly, but it still makes the kid flinch back, proving how much he’s hurt him, and how much he can still, potentially, hurt him. God... he doesn’t wanna ever hurt him... not again… “No, don’t deny it. I was a fuckin’ moron. I just... I ain’t ever... I don’t get you, Kiyotaka. What I feel... when you- you look at me...”
And it’s true. He still doesn’t quite get it. What he feels. Why he feels it. It... he thinks he might kinda get it, might kinda realize what this feeling is, why he wants to protect this kid so badly, but it... it doesn’t quite feel like it fits. And he just... he just doesn’t know... but... if not this then... what else? H-heh...
Sighing softly, feeling so confused but strangely not angry about it, Mondo allows a wry smile to rise on his lips as he presses closer to the kid, as close as he’s always secretly longed to be, since that first day when he held him but not ever close enough. One of his hands is curled loosely around Kiyotaka’s waist, while his other is still gently cupping his cheek and has been for a little while now. He notices dimly how they are almost bare, Kiyotaka wearing only his underwear while Mondo is in his thin tank top and loose black pants, and he can feel the kid’s heat as it presses against him, oddly intoxicating. Mondo’s hair is down from its pomp, having been knocked loose sometime in the sauna, and it’s been years since someone outside his gang saw him without it up, it makes him feel so naked to have it down, but he... he doesn’t really care. Not when it’s only Kiyotaka who sees it.
He... he wants Kiyotaka to see all of him... every last part.
Because he... he views the kid like... like a...
“It’s like yer my brother or somethin’. Like... my nerdy, dorky little brother. Someone I gotta take care of. Protect. Keep safe, from all harm. I never... shit. I had my brother, but he... he��s gone now. I can’t... I couldn’t protect him, fuck. An’ I… f-fuck. I can’t protect you, either, can I...? No, I… I can’t... I can’t... a-and why the fuck would you want a fuck-up like me, anyway? You... god, you could do so much better... why would you want someone like me as your brother, s-shit...”
The thought stabs Mondo through the heart, the realization that as much as he may want to have this with Kiyotaka, to have a brotherhood with him, they... they likely never will. Because Mondo has messed up too much. Because Mondo ruined their chance before it ever even had the opportunity to live. Because Mondo is so fucking broken and damaged that no one in their right mind would ever want him as a brother. Daiya was forced to have him, and he was so fucking amazing that he chose to love him anyway, but Kiyotaka... he doesn’t have to be stuck with him. He doesn’t owe Mondo anything, anything at all. In fact, Mondo is the one who owes Kiyotaka. So much. So very, very much. Kiyotaka wouldn’t want him. He just... he wouldn’t.
And as he feels the kid freeze against him, breath stuttering and harsh, he... he knows he’s right, isn’t he? S-shit... he shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have thought himself good enough to deserve such a gift. Kiyotaka, wanting him like that... wanting him at all... while he may have been soft and pliant in his arms a moment ago, seeming like he was at ease, that doesn’t mean it was because of Mondo or anything that Mondo did. He’d been through an emotional time and he’d needed comfort, and Mondo had just been the nearest warm body. Doesn’t mean he trusts Mondo or that he wants anything from him at all. He’d have to be the world’s biggest fool to think Kiyotaka could ever want him, want him at all.
And Mondo... he may be a fool, but he ain’t that big of a fool.
Heart aching painfully in his chest, Mondo can’t help how he pulls away, not wanting to force Kiyotaka to be near him when he doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve it at all.
“Shit, I was right, goddamn it, aw shit! J-just forget I said anything, I- fuck!”
Mondo hands come up to clutch at his hair, then, the grip tight and painful but he doesn’t care. He wants it to hurt. To ache. It’s what he deserves for fucking this whole thing up, for being so woefully unworthy of being close to such a bright and beautiful boy. Maybe, had he been better— a better person, a good person— he could have been worthy of it. Had he never let his insecurities get in the way, had he just accepted what he felt as true the minute he felt it, not pushed it away in fear, maybe... maybe then, he could have had this. Kiyotaka, as his friend. Kiyotaka, as his brother.
But no. No, no. He had pushed it away. Had been afraid of it, so very afraid. Had let his fear turn to anger, like he was so wont to do, and ruined everything before it even began.
He deserves all the misery he feels for how stupid he’d been...
Mondo gets jolted out of his thoughts when he feels a soft, tentative hand touch him, his eyes wide and manic as he looks at Kiyotaka, who looks so fucking afraid, god. H-he scares the kid so goddamn much, like he scares everyone, because he’s a monster, a senseless beast that only ever hurts people. Breaks people. He’s not allowed nice things, not allowed good things. Not allowed to be gentle, or soft, or kind. He... he’s just not...
To his utter shock, he can see Kiyotaka smile at him. It’s soft, and hesitant, and... and beautiful... but it can’t be real. It... the kid is trying to be kind, trying to hide his fear to make Mondo feel better, because he’s so goddamn nice, so fucking good, shit-
“N-no! Don’t worry! I was just- not expecting that! But I- I feel- the same. I feel- the same! I would be honored, Mondo Owada, to be considered your brother! I’ve never had a brother, never even had a friend, but I couldn’t imagine a better one than you! Y-you... you’re incredible...”
He... he... does he really mean that...? Does he truly... truly wanna be Mondo’s... Mondo’s brother? The kid is so bad at lying, and it hadn’t sounded like he was lying, but... but it... shit. It can’t be true, it can’t... after all the shit Mondo has done, how could the kid ever see him positively, even a little? Mondo isn’t a good brother, he’d always been so shit to Daiya, taking and taking and taking and never giving. He’d taken everything from Daiya, never satisfied with what Daiya gave freely, so he stole the most important thing in the end.
H-he’d just steal everything from Kiyotaka too.
It’s what he does...
“Ya can’t mean that, Kiyotaka... I’m a goddamn mess... and you... you are... shit. You’re goddamn perfect and I’m hot dog shit, ya can’t... y-you can’t...”
And it’s true. Mondo has more to say, more to confess, but his throat is so thick, and he doesn’t know how to say it. To confess all his crimes to Kiyotaka, to let him know how unworthy he is. He- he hears Kiyotaka take a deep breath, and he doesn’t wanna hear what the kid has to say, doesn’t wanna hear him agree, but then he’s speaking, and his words... t-they...
“Mondo... I- I’m not perfect. I... I’m not. B-but that’s okay! I do my best, but so do you! I can see how hard you try and sometimes that’s all that matters! You’re not... dog feces! You... you’re so much more, Mondo...”
No... n-no, the kid, he... he doesn’t understand, he just- he doesn’t understand! Mondo, he has to... has to tell him. N-not all of it, he’s not strong enough to confess it all, he’s always been so goddamn weak, but he- he has to... a little. Enough so the kid knows. So he stops feeling pity for him and realizes that he...
He’s just not worth it...
“No. N-no, I ain’t shit, goddamnit, I...” Mondo has to stop, feeling so fucking conflicted. On one hand he wants to confess, on the other hand he wants to be selfish, and he just... h-he just...
But he can’t. Be selfish. Not... not about this.
Not with Kiyotaka.
With a soft sigh, he feels the tension inside him melt away, his body relaxing with the decision he’s made. All of his emotions— both good and bad— fade away until all he feels inside is... is...
Cold resignation...
“I hate myself. Always fuckin’ have. Heh. There, I... I fuckin’ said it. I love the gang, don’t get me wrong. I love bein’ with ‘em, bein’ a part a’ somethin’ bigger than myself. I love leadin’ ‘em, ridin’ my hog, wind in my hair... I fuckin’ love it. Even bein’ here, unable ta lead directly, I still like callin’ the shots from behind the scenes while my second in command implements it an’ shit. Means somethin’, ‘least. But... I dunno. Sometimes I’ll be in the middle ofa fight and I’ll just... wanna stop. Quit. Do somethin’... do somethin’ else fer a change. But I… heh. I can’t. I promised my bro... Daiya, I... I promised him I’d keep the gang together. He built it from scratch an’ I... I can’t leave that. I made a promise, a man’s promise, ta keep us together. So, I... I gotta keep doin’ that. Can’t stop. Ever. Not ‘til the gang is dead an’ shit, all the members movin’ on ta do better shit with their lives. An’ me… heh. Not much use fer me after that, is there?”
Mondo pauses, and then looks down at his hands, a small, sad smile on his face.
“But you? Yer gonna go places, man. Shootin’ fer the moon. Prime fuckin’ Minister, shit, man. Never met anyone with such high goals, really. Never met anyone who wanted ta do that sorta shit, change things from the inside. Heard ya in class, talkin’ ‘bout yer plans an’ shit. Wantin’ ta make the world a better place, havin’ such hope for this garbage planet. Ya... ya’ve got drive. Determination. An’ I know yer gonna do it, ya know. Succeed. More than any a’ the other chucklefucks we go ta school with, ‘least. Yer just so... determined. Got such passion. I... I admire that ‘bout ya, always did.”
Mondo pauses again, and he… he laughs. It’s sad, and pathetic, and it... he... h-heh...
“But that… heh. That ain’t me, Kiyo. Ain’t me. I ain’t got plans, ain’t got any fuckin’ clue a’ what I’m gonna do after school ends. They got me takin’ fuckin’ leadership classes an’ shit, but the fuck am I gonna do with that bullshit? I can lead a gang, yeah, but that… heh. That’s ‘bout it, Christ. An’ ya… yer gonna see that one day. And yer gonna leave me. And I’ll be happy fer ya, ‘course I will, but... sh-shit. God... goddamnit...”
Mondo doesn’t know where he’s going with this. He doesn’t know what he’s saying or why he’s saying it. His head is so jumbled, so scrambled, and part of him wants to tell Kiyotaka everything. About his parents. About his brother. About what he did, what he stole. He wants to confess so, so badly, to see the hatred and anger and rage on that kid’s face when he realizes how big a piece of shit Mondo really is, horrified that he’d ever felt pity for such a pitiless creature.
But...
He can’t. Can’t do that. He... he can’t burden Kiyotaka with his bullshit. And knowing the kid... he’d still try. To feel pity. To feel sorrow. He- he’s such a good person, so bright and shining. He’s the kind of person who would see a merciless and dangerous monster like him and think there’s something worthwhile in it. It wouldn’t be until his neck is snapped under Mondo’s uncaring hand that he’d realize he was wrong. And maybe... maybe not even then. He’d die, thinking Mondo was better than he was, even if it were Mondo who killed him.
God...
So, he can’t tell the truth. Can’t burden the kid like that. But he... he can’t let him get close. Even if he... he really wants to...
“I’ll just hold ya back. Ya don’t want someone like me, Kiyo. Ya don’t want someone like me at all. So... I ‘ppreciate yer words. But it may be best ta leave this here. Ta... ta forget ‘bout this all and just... move on. I’ll leave ya alone and ya won’t hafta-”
“No!” Mondo hears echo through the room, cutting off his words so thoroughly. It startles the fuck out of him, and he can’t help how he stares, wide-eyed, up at Kiyotaka. It’s weird, looking up to see the kid, but he’s sitting upright, almost standing but not quite, knees firmly planted on the floor. But seeing as how Mondo is crumbled pathetically on the floor, sitting back on his thighs, he has to look up to see Kiyotaka. And he looks... looks so...
Scared...
But...
Not... not of- of... of Mondo...?
“Mondo, please! I just... look. I- I try to be perfect, but I... I’m not! And I know you aren’t either! But... but maybe that’s okay! Maybe... m-maybe... maybe we can learn to be not perfect... together? I, ah. I don’t know! A-all I know is... I want to be f-friends with you, Mondo Owada. I don’t care about your flaws; I don’t care that you’re in a gang! I just... I want... w-we can be brothers. If you want... we can be brothers. I want... I would want nothing more than to be your brother! Your kyoudai!”
Brothers. Brothers. Kiyotaka wants them to be... brothers...
It’s too good to be true. Too fucking good to be true. Mondo doesn’t get nice things like this. He doesn’t get soft, kind, gentle things. He gets shit. He gets cruelty. He gets anger and hatred and rage. He gets angry fists and cruel words, and a suspicious look on his back at all fucking times. After all the shit he has done, the people he has hurt, the lives he has ruined, he... he doesn’t deserve... he just doesn’t...
But as he sits there, staring up at Kiyotaka with wide eyes and an open mouth, he... he remembers something. Something the kid had said, in the sauna. How he... he never had a friend before. How everyone always hated him. And it could have just been insecurity talking, the kid thinking people hated him when they really didn’t but judging by the scars, he... he would doubt that.
He’s never had a friend. He’s never had a brother. Someone to keep him safe. To protect him from all harm. Someone to hold onto, someone to tell him it is alright. That he is alright. He... he hasn’t had that.
And Mondo is the worst choice for a brother. He knows it, okay? He’s so fucking awful it’s not funny. But... but he... the kid doesn’t seem to get that. And Mondo is too weak to explain why he shouldn’t want it. And, as such, he... Kiyotaka wants to be friends. Brothers. With him.
Mondo is a mess. He messes everything up, ruining everything he touches. He... he doesn’t want to ruin Kiyotaka too. He doesn’t want to hurt him. He... he never...
But maybe...
Maybe...
It’s stupid. God, so fucking stupid. But maybe... if he tries hard, so fucking hard... if he is careful, keeps his anger in check, does all he can, he... maybe he...
He can be Kiyotaka’s brother...
And keep him safe...
It makes him smile. It’s small at first, tentative. Like a stiff wind will blow it away. But as Kiyotaka keeps looking at him steadily, earnestly, he... he feels the smiles strengthen. Feels as it grows wider and wider, until it fills his whole face, his eyes squinting with how wide it is. He’s never felt like this before, so scared and terrified, but also... also...
Hopeful.
“Ya... ya really mean that, Kiyo?”
Kiyo. Mondo doesn’t really know why he’s calling the kid that, nicknames aren’t super common in their culture, but somehow, he... he kinda likes it. He doesn’t know if the kid does, he should ask, but before he has the chance to, the kid is nodding. Enthusiastic and bright, a shaky grin on his face. He still seems a little out of it, but god, is he trying... fuck that kid is so amazing...
“Yes! Of course! I always mean everything I say! I would not lie to you, Mondo, I promise you that! We shall be the best kyoudai! You’ll see! Aha! This is fantastic!”
Oh, god... this kid is so fucking cute! God... h-he really shouldn’t be thinking that, should push it away like he always pushes stupid ass thoughts like that away, but he... he’s allowed to see his brother as cute... right? Or, well... his little brother. Though... fuck. Is Kiyotaka younger than him? He seems like it, as naive and endlessly optimistic as he is, but fuck, he doesn’t actually know. Mondo is usually one of the youngest in his class, since his birthday is at the end of the year, but he’s always felt decades older than the chucklefucks he goes to school with. Maybe it’s ‘cuz he was forced to grow up so fucking fast in order to survive, shit.
But you know what? Whatever. It doesn’t matter if Mondo is older or not. He’s the older brother regardless. That shit is felt, not necessarily determined by birth order. Daiya was his older brother in more ways than just because he was physically older, after all.
At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that... that Kiyotaka wants this. Wants... wants Mondo. And Mondo doesn’t deserve it, had never deserved it, but fuck, is he a selfish bastard. But he won’t take this shit for granted. Now that they are brothers, Mondo will go all fucking out. No fucking reservations. They are brothers, now, and Mondo is the big brother. The ani. It’s his duty and obligation to keep Kiyotaka safe from all harm, including (and especially) from Mondo himself. And he won’t. Hurt him. Not now, not ever. If he ever does, he will stab himself in the gut, commit fucking seppuku, he swears he will. He’d rather die than hurt this precious, amazing, incredible boy ever, ever again.
And so, Mondo grins, and he laughs, and he lets his arms reach forward and wrap around the kid, like he’s been wanting to do since he ripped himself away the last time. Part of him is afraid the kid won’t want it, or he’ll realize how stupid this whole thing is, but Kiyotaka doesn’t even tense at all as he goes willingly into Mondo’s arms, melting like warm putty against him. Like he... he belongs there...
S-shit...
“Okay. O-okay. Kiyotaka, I... I’ll do my best. I can’t promise ya anythin’, know I’m a goddamn fuck-up who ruins everything, but... but for you? I’ll try. That... that’s all I can offer... heh…”
It’s not enough, not nearly enough, but he feels Kiyotaka wrap his arms around him, holding on so very, very tight, and it... it feels...
Like coming home...
“That is all I could ever ask of you, my kyoudai! Y-you’re not a- a screw up! And- and your best is more than enough!”
Shit. Shit. No one... no one has ever told him that before. That the best he offers is more than enough. It’s never been enough, he’s never been enough. He’s a screw up. The unwanted kid. The person who is good for violence and anger and rage, and that’s about it.
But here, being held by this remarkable fucking kid... hearing him say that it’s enough... that he’s enough…
Maybe he’s inclined to believe him.
Wow... just...
Wow...
After a minute Mondo pulls back, knowing they need to talk about stuff, knowing he has to make promises, and it makes his heart sing when he feels the kid resist, arms refusing to let go at first. It makes him laugh softly, especially because he fully understands. But he doesn’t intend to go far. Just... he needs to look the kid in the eyes. He... he needs to see those beautiful as sin eyes...
Pressing his forehead to Kiyotaka’s, soft and gentle and intimate, he can’t help how he smiles, eyes shining with the light he feels inside. And Kiyotaka... he...
He looks at Mondo like he fucking matters...
“I’ll be good. Fer ya... I’ll be good. Promise, Kiyo. And ya can hold me ta that, got it? This is a promise between men. That means I gotta keep it.”
The kid looks stunned, eyes glazed but not in a bad way, breath hitched, and it... it makes Mondo feel...
“Likewise! I- I will do everything I can to be the best brother I can be! I promise! We shall be the best kyoudai in the world! That’s a Kiyotaka Ishimaru guarantee!”
The enthusiastic words make Mondo laugh again, and he pulls away to wrap an arm around the kid’s shoulders, ruffling his hair gently like Daiya would always do to him. He notices that the hair is a bit longer than it once had been, and fuck, does he like it. The sweat from the sauna had made all the gel run out and his hair is now soft as it dries, curling lightly around the kid’s ears and it just...
It’s so beautiful...
But ruffling the kid’s hair makes it fall in his eyes, which makes the kid let out an annoyed sound, adorable again, and Mondo can’t help the way he laughs. God, this kid makes him so goddamn happy... he’s never felt this happy before... never...
“Yer the absolute, goddamn best, kyoudai. Kiyo. Hey, uh... is it okay if I call ya that? Kiyotaka’s just a bit of a mouthful, ‘sall. Ya got any other nicknames I could use?”
He looks at the kid at that, Kiyotaka’s (or should he say Kiyo? Does the kid like it? Shit...) mouth pulled down in a thoughtful frown. A moment passes, and then-
“A-ah! Kiyo is fine! If you’d like! B-but... well... m-my mother. She called me... Taka. Y-you could use that, as well! If you’d like...”
Taka, huh? Taka. Taka. Yeah... yeah, he- he likes it. He likes it a lot! It suits the kid, and while Mondo still does kinda like Kiyo, he might like Taka a bit better. And if the kid wants him to call him that, then shit... who is he to deny him...?
Smiling, soft and gentle in a way he’s never been able to be before, he nods.
“Taka... heh, I like it! Alright, Taka. Mondo ain’t exactly got any good nicknames fer it, but ya can call me that, if ya’d like.”
Mondo watches as Taka blushes lightly, lips still partially open as he breathes in and out slowly. His eyes are kinda glazed still, but he seems present enough. Just... like he’s thinking of something. Mondo wants to reach out, wants to pull the kid into a hug again, wants to always, always be touching him, but he keeps his distance. Just... just for now. But later...
The kid shoots up again, interrupting Mondo’s thoughts, looking so enthusiastic again, eyes bright and smile happy. Holy shit...
“Oh! I can always call you kyoudai!! That way the whole world will know our manly bond!”
It makes Mondo laugh again, harder, and he can’t help how he reaches out to ruffle his hair again, needing to touch him at least a little. Kyoudai, huh? ... yeah. Yeah, he likes that, too. Daiya was always ani to him, the proper name for the big brother, and Daiya usually called him shit like ‘kid’ or whatever, so it’s not like Taka calling him that will bring up any bad memories or shit. It’s just... something for them. Their own, little thing, for them and no one else.
Him and Taka. Taka and him. Two... two kyoudai...
Incredible...
“Alright, Taka. If ya’d like. Now, it’s fuckin’ late. I ain’t even gotta look at a clock ta know that. Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get ya ta bed.”
Mondo stands, then, realizing how fucking late it is. The kid always gets up stupidly early, he remembers Taka saying that once a little while ago, so he knows they should be heading to bed soon. He feels strangely reluctant to do that, never wanting to part from this beautiful boy, but- but he’s the big brother. He has to keep his little brother safe and healthy, and that includes ensuring he gets a good night’s sleep. Even if it means they have to part ways...
As Mondo stretches, he sees Taka stand as well, his body flushing bright red as he looks down at himself and seems to notice his state of undress. Like he’d forgotten or something. Mondo hadn’t. Not... not for a single second. Shit...
He feels his eyes dart down to the kid’s chest, unbidden, and he feels the small smile die on his lips as he sees the long, jagged looking scar that goes from Taka’s collarbone to the bottom of his sternum, right over his heart. How... how the fuck did he get a scar like that...? It doesn’t look like one that would come from surgery or something, since it’s too jagged, and it also doesn’t look accidental. But... but how the fuck...
“How’d ya get that? The... the scar?” Mondo finds himself asking softly before he can stop himself, his hand rising absently to trace the length of it. Fuck, but it feels as jagged as it looks... angry and painful. H-he hopes it doesn’t hurt anymore...
“A-ah... that...” Taka mutters, his body flushing. It jolts Mondo out of the fucking fugue he entered, and he removes his hand quickly, feeling embarrassed. S-shit... he shouldn’t have asked that, it ain’t his fucking business. Yeah, they’re kyoudai, but that... that don’t mean he’s earned the right to hear the kid’s dark history. He still has to earn that shit. He knows that.
“Aw, shit! Taka, ignore me. Y’ain’t gotta talk ‘bout that shit. Uh, shi-shoot, I mean... stuff? Sorry… heh, know ya hate swearin’ an’ sh- stuff. Heh…”
Taka blinks at Mondo’s rambling words, which makes him feel strangely nervous. He doesn’t let it take over him, though. Doesn’t let himself get angry. But strangely... the anger he usually feels when embarrassed or nervous just... never showed up in the first place. Huh...
He watches, then, heart clenching, as Taka smiles at him, soft and gentle as ever. F-fuck...
“I... I don’t mind! It’s not exactly a pleasant story, but I trust you, kyoudai! And... I don’t mind you cursing! Much! It... it’s what makes you, you! Just as long as you don’t do it in class or in the halls!”
He... doesn’t mind him... cursing...???? After all those warnings, all of those detention slips, he truly expects Mondo to believe he doesn’t mind it when Mondo fucking curses?
But... huh. He can’t detect a lie in the kid’s words. He looks as earnest as ever, and it just... god. Mondo can’t begin to describe how he feels right now, just that it feels... soft.
Taka... Taka makes him feel soft. And fuck, is it not bad... not bad at all...
Unsure of what to say, what to do, Mondo just laughs again, since that’s the only thing that even slightly manages to express the softness that he feels inside, and he smiles at the kid gently while nodding. He should feel stupid, ridiculous, but he just... doesn’t.
God...
He watches then as Taka walks over to the locker he’d used earlier, seeming to want to no longer be partially nude. Mondo doesn’t mind it, has never minded being around naked dudes, but he guesses not everyone can be like that. As the kid dresses, he starts to talk. And the story he tells...
“It was one of my middle school bullies. I, er... wasn’t well liked, as a child! They never liked how I would get them in trouble, not to mention... ah. M-my, well. My grandfather,” Taka mutters, voice turning nervous as he talks about his grandfather, glancing at him anxiously.
Mondo still isn’t entirely sure what the kid’s deal with his grandfather is, but he can tell it bothers the kid, shit, so he does his best to not look at all judgmental, even though the fact the kid was fucking bullied makes his blood fucking boil... shit. He’d expected it, honestly, but it still fucking angers the fuck out of him, Christ…
Luckily, it seems his anger at that isn’t too obvious, since the kid continues then, voice less shaky and upset, even though the shit he says...
“One day, one of them was... particularly angry. I’d gotten him suspended, you see, for a week. It was his own fault, he was the one who had scratched profanities into the headmaster’s car, I’d just been the one to report it! Still, he was... angry. So, after school, he had his friends hold me down while he cut this into my chest. A reminder, he said, to mind my own business. I think he was going to do more but was interrupted by something. It was most unpleasant!”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Holy shit, holy shit!
What the goddamn shit?!
Some goddamn motherfucker... carved that shit into Taka’s chest...?! And how the fuck can Taka sound so casual about it?! Mondo has never felt so much rage directed towards someone he’s never met, but holy fucking shit, that goddamn bastard had better hope Mondo never meets him, or else he is fucking dead. The thought that anyone could ever hurt this wonderful boy in such a way is just so... insane to Mondo. How people can see him and not want to keep him safe from all harm is just... he doesn’t get it. Even when he told himself he hated the kid, he couldn’t bear the thought of actually hurting him. Not really.
And Taka he... he looks so fucking sad, right now. But also, just... resigned. Like he expects that treatment and, while it sucks, it’s just... life. Which is so much fucking bullshit, holy fucking shit-
Mondo unintentionally lets out a strangled noise, his anger and rage choking him inside. He sees the kid look up at him and sees panic rise in his face when he sees the anger Mondo so clearly feels. Oh, shit... shit, he’s not mad at Taka, he’s not at all, but he can’t make the anger go away, because... because...
“They fuckin’ what?! What the goddamn shit?! Please tell me ya got those fuckers expelled!”
He had to have... right? Taka is so gung-ho about rules and shit, he- he must have told on those fuckers and got all of them expelled... r-right?
Wrong...
“A-ah! N-not exactly! I... I never reported them! I rarely ever did, to tell the truth... it wouldn’t have mattered, see! The teachers didn’t like me much either; they only ever believed me if I had proof, and even then, only half the time! And they never much cared when I got hurt... b-but it was okay! I persisted and never let them break me down! My struggles made me stronger! Aha!”
W... what? He... he... oh, oh god... n-no...
“Y-you... what?” Mondo whispers, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands shaking. He has never felt so horrified before, a terrifying realization overcoming him. Because he... he was right, wasn’t he? This kid... h-he was abused. Horribly so.
By literally fucking everyone, holy fucking shit-!
“I mean... that’s just... how it was? I handled it, though! I never gave up! They... they did not break me!”
Oh. Oh. Oh, this... this poor fucking kid... his poor fucking kyoudai, having to go through that nightmare, actually believing that it was just... normal. Just... how it was. But he... he can’t actually... actually believe he deserved it... r-right...?
“Goddamnit... that’s why ya keep tellin’ me ta... ta punish ya, ain’t it? Taka, please tell me ya don’t actu’ly think ya deserved that shit?”
He can’t. He can’t. Please, god, he... he can’t...
Mondo watches, heart breaking so thoroughly inside his chest, as Taka looks down at his uniform jacket, the only piece of his get up he’s not yet wearing. He’s frowning gently, like he actually has to fucking think about it, oh god, no...
“I- I... I suppose so... I mean-! I... I don’t know. They all hated me... s-so... they must have had a good reason... r-right? To... to hate me. I... I must have deserved it... right?”
No. No. No. Mondo... he can’t fucking handle this shit. So many things make so much sense now, and he has never hated himself more. For not seeing it sooner. For not allowing himself to care about this boy all along. For maybe even reenforcing this goddamn bullshit, making the kid think he is right, when he sure as shit ain’t. He...
He can’t help how he moves. Swift and quick. He- he just needs to be near the kid, needs to hold him, reassure him that no, he didn’t. Didn’t at all. He needs to do what he should have done weeks ago, in the laundry room, and reassure that kid that no. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt. Not... not ever...
He stops, though, when he sees Taka look up at him, terror in his eyes, like he... he thinks Mondo is going to fucking hurt him. He wants to go forward, wants to hold the kid so fucking bad, but he doesn’t have that fucking right, so he stays where he is, all the sorrow he feels surely reflected in his eyes. And as the kid looks at him, he... he relaxes. He still looks upset, but he doesn’t look scared. That... that’s something...
Right?
“No. Fuckin’ no. Y’ain’t deserved any a’ that shit, goddamn, man… and I promise ya, Taka, I’m gonna make sure ya see that one day, even if it takes the rest a’ my goddamn life. And that’s a man’s promise.”
And he means it, fuck does he mean it. He had never meant anything more. He will spend the rest of his goddamn life ensuring that this wonderful kid knows how special and amazing he is, and that he never, ever deserves to be hurt. It’s his life’s fucking goal now, the one thing that fucking matters. He will take care of Taka for the rest of his goddamn life, even after the kid finally wises up and leaves his ass. He will watch from the shadows, keeping a careful eye on him, there to keep him safe from all harm. This kid will never know pain again if it’s the last fucking thing Mondo does. He swears.
As the kid looks at him, he sees the softest and most beautiful smile he’s ever seen lighting up the boy’s face. His eyes sparkle with it, and he’s looking at Mondo like he’s important again. Like he... like he matters. And Mondo...
He won’t ruin this shit. He just... he won’t.
This matters too goddamn much for him to let it slip away.
“T-thank you... thank you, kyoudai. I... thank you.”
Mondo smiles gently at the kid, moving forward to tentatively wrap an arm around his shoulder, squeezing gently, needing to touch him but not wanting to overwhelm him, god.
“Ain’t gotta thank me, bro. Now, we really should head ta bed. Got school tomorrow an’ I don’t want my bro ta be tired! Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get goin’.”
Taka nods quick and puts his jacket on, buttoning it with practiced fingers. The kid turns back to the locker, frowning gently at whatever he sees inside. Mondo watches as the kid reaches out and grabs it, his breath hitching when he sees the kid is holding the glasses case that started this whole fucking mess. He... he honestly had forgotten about that shit, to tell the truth, with all the drama that just occurred. But as he looks at the kid, who is looking so softly at the glasses case, like they’re precious to him, he... he knows he owes the kid for the shit he put him through earlier, for no fucking reason. He can’t quite find it in him to regret what happened, not when it ended up like this, but he... he has to make it up to the kid. All of it.
So, quick as a wink, Mondo darts his hand out and carefully takes the case from Taka, ignoring the startled sound the kid makes. He can feel the kid watching him with wide eyes, but he doesn’t let it stop him as he opens the case and— without a single moment’s pause— puts the glasses on his face, blinking at the foreign feel. It... it hasn’t changed his vision much, since this shit is only supposed to help with close up shit, but it... huh. He guesses it ain’t so bad...
“Huh... I guess they ain’t that bad... tell me, kyoudai. How do they look?”
He hadn’t really meant to ask the question, but he just... couldn’t help but remember the shit he’d done the last time he’d worn the glasses and Taka had told him what he thought. He... maybe he wants to show that it’s different, now. That he won’t get angry, not this time. To prove that he will never hurt Taka, never again. Not... not ever again.
He watches as the kid flushes bright red, mouth open slightly again, and- and god, is it an attractive look on him... s-shit... and then the kid is smiling shakily, giving a shaky thumbs up, and that’s even... even worse... or better, heh...
“You look amazing, kyoudai! They suit you well!”
A-amazing, huh? Shit... no one’s ever said he looks amazing before... he’s had a couple of people call him hot, or even sexy once or twice, but never... never amazing...
He adores it... adores... Taka...
It makes him smile again. Soft. Happy. So goddamn happy... he will never be able to repay Taka for the happiness he gives him... not even if he dedicates the rest of his life to trying. Which he will. He... he will...
But it’s late. So fucking late. They... they need to get to bed...
Even if Mondo never wants to part from this amazing kid...
“Ah, cool. I guess. Now, c’mon! Bed! Ain’t gonna be the reason ya can’t focus in class tomorrow, ya nerd!”
With that, Mondo turns to grab his duster off the bench he’d tossed it on earlier, shrugging it on carefully, before finally exiting the bathhouse, Taka on his heels.
Shit...
#The Problem with Mondo preview#Mondo Owada#Mondo's POV#Kiyotaka Ishimaru#Danganronpa#Danganronpa fanfiction#My fanfic#Ha hope y'all liked it#:-)
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The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay
Meant To Be Good News
A/N: ... heyyyyy- its been a bit. I got rapped up in exams and i felt like being productive today so u get a chapterrrr and i wrote another one so u have about two chapters guaranteed ill try to be more consistent lol (also long chapter as compensation)
(also let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)
First | Previous| Next
words: 2286
summary: Virgil doesn't want to deal with this mess but he was sent to deliver a message so, theres not much he can do
pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit, Remile
warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, negative self talk, food mention, worried for a characters safety
(let me know if there's any other)
They went up the steps in silence.
As they entered through the door, Roman grabbed the basket that was abandoned during the argument. He left it on a table near the entrance, he headed towards the corner with shelves, grabbed a brown book, nothing interesting in the cover, just a plain brown book and headed towards the window seat to read.
Virgil was struggling to decide if he should try to speak or not, he absolutely despised small talk but if he didn't talk he didn't want it to get awkward. He looked over to Roman because if he did decide to talk to the prince, what in the hell would he even talk about?! Virgil saw the royal glance up from his book to look at the small table near all the shelves that had a single red book, it was simple like the one he was holding, it just had a title, yet it caused more intrigue than the other.
When Virgil took a good look at Roman he looked somehow defeated, like he had lost- no, given up on a 100 year long fight. The monarch glanced once more at the table with the red book, this time however, he caught a glimpse of the stormy knight, “ You should sit down, the trip back alone takes a few hours, it's gonna be some time before you get to go back.” Virgil looked up at the prince who had resumed his reading, “Uh… yeah” he took a seat near the desk Roman kept glancing at.
Virgil decided to take a glance at the book. It seemed to be a fictional adventure book...seems interesting. Roman looked at the table again and spotted the tall knight carefully opening the book. “It’s an adventure book. Just a fairytale.” Roman’s voice seemed to startle Virgil as he immediately slammed the book shut.
“Y-yeah sorry, I didn't mean to open it without permission, that was so rude of me and-” Roman stopped him mid rant “It's alright, you can read it. One of my personal favorite books.” The prince smiled at him to show he didn't mind “I’m not much of a reader. I just uh… got curious, I guess?” Virgil didn't seem sure of his answer. “Well, I can give you a small summary! If you’d like me to, of course.” Roman backtracked pretty quickly, snide comments about how excited he got over meaningless things forcing themselves into his head. But Virgil’s “Sure, Why not?” Made him a little less apprehensive.
“Ok! So, the story is focused on this boy named Aaron. He is a poor farm boy living with his family in a village that was overthrown by the guards, they became corrupted and betrayed the royal family and took control for themselves.” Virgil just nodded along.
”They treated the least wealthy of the kingdom the worst, they didn't have money to bribe them with so to them they were useless, it got to the point where they were becoming the robbers, they would never steal from people with money because they were cruel people. Aaron and his father wanted to make a change but his mother didn't want them to, she wanted to play it safe and just gather enough money to leave for a better place.”
Roman rambling about the story not realizing how little of a summary it actually was since he definitely wasn't being concise, “I agree with the mom. Her plan sounds safe and effective.” Virgil didn't really mind, at least he wasn't going to be bored while he waited, “Maybe so! But where's the fun in that, dear knight?” Roman didn't really get the knights perspective “May not be fun but at least they'll get outta there without a problem” Virgil thought he was in the right and that the main character would make stupid reckless decisions for the drama and suspense.
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“Aha! They went back to the mom’s plan anyway! There was literally no need to try and do all that heroic shit.” Virgil was now fully invested in the story, he probably wouldn't have been if Roman wasn’t such a good storyteller.
“Well yeah... But it was worth it! If they didn't try they would have never known the outcome of that situation.” Roman was happy the knight seemed invested, he was mostly happy because he finally got to discuss the book with someone, and that someone had very different opinions than himself.
There was a knock on the door.
They both looked at each other, It didn't feel like they had been talking for that long. So, who in the hell was at the door?
Virgil stood up, hand fidgeting with the hilt of his sword. Roman stood as well, they both walked towards the door. Virgil opened the door, only to find Ruth on the other end of the door. “Oh, it's the lady from earlier.” Virgil turned to Roman as he let her in.
“Nurse, how did you get back so quickly?” Roman spoke up. “I wouldn't say it was that quick, it's been a few hours. But we found someone along the way so that did speed up the process.” Ruth talked as she noticed the untouched basket and started nearing it.
Roman and Virgil on the other hand looked at each other with confusion. It didn't feel like they had been talking for more than half an hour. “I'm sorry, I must have been talking your ear off.” The royal felt a need to apologize, “Hey, at least you made the wait entertaining.” the knight did not deem it necessary.
Ruth turned and glared at Roman. “So, you haven't eaten?” Roman glanced at the untouched basket and cursed under his breath, he completely forgot. “ Well…” Ruth was not having it “You brat.” She walked behind him and started pushing him towards the table.
“I had an excuse!” Ruth stopped pushing him “And what is it?” Roman turned to meet her eye and said, “I get nauseous when I eat too early.” Ruth looked unimpressed “I'm fully aware Roman. But it's almost noon.” Roman’s brain scrambled for another excuse “I was reading and I lost track of time.” She was still very much unimpressed. “As long as it wasn't the book you always read, fine by me”
As Roman’s nurse made sure Roman ate she noticed Virgil standing a few feet behind them. “I wasn't able to introduce myself earlier. I am Ruth, the brat’s nurse.” She extended her hand with a smile. Virgil shook her hand while he chuckled, which was interrupted by Roman’s overdramatic offended noises. “Nurse! You’re making him think I'll be a nightmare to care for!”
Ruth turned to him “Was I supposed to lie to him and tell him you’re a delight? My apologies, sire” Roman put a hand on his chest and gasped. “Now I understand why Trent called you a witch!” Ruth laughed, “You’re just basically proving my point.” Roman could only grumble and go back to eating.
Ruth took a look around the tower and spotted the red book on a table. “I see you've decided to become a liar huh?” Roman turned to her “Whatever do you mean?” She walked towards the table and picked up the book “Seems like someone was reading the same book they always read, I don't understand why they read it if they've memorized the whole book!” Roman knew Ruth was only joking but he didn't appreciate being called a liar “I wasn't reading it this time it was just out in the open! You can ask him!”
Roman pointed at Virgil, Ruth just looked at Virgil expecting an answer, “He wasn't reading that book, he was reading the one by the window” it wasn't a lie. “You better not be covering for that devil.” Virgil noticed there wasn't any malice behind her voice, her words portrayed something different. “Are you accusing me of being a liar? I thought that was reserved for the prince.” Ruth started laughing “Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Virgil just chuckled.
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Roman’s nurse sat next to the window, looking out worriedly. Roman knew his nurse fairly well, “Has Remy not gotten back yet?” Ruth sighed and turned “My son and his tardiness again”.
Roman went over to his nurse, giving her a hug “I’m sure he’s just a little late..” Ruth tried to smile at Roman “I know Roman. I'm just a worried old hag.” Roman rolled his eyes and sat by the window
Ruth looked out the window one last time and took a deep breath. “Well I have to get going so we get there some time before sunrise” Roman stood up to say a proper goodbye to his nurse. “See you in a few days…” Roman really didn’t want to let go but he didn't have much of a choice.
Ruth started packing what she had brought in silence, once she neared the door she spoke “Roman, his and her majesty will have to be informed about this incident..” Roman was obviously not content because this would surely somehow be put partially on him. “Yes, I understand.” Ruth smiled sympathetically and turned to the storm eyed knight only a few feet away.
“Virgil, you’ll have to stay with Roman for a while longer. Commander Arlott sure didn't expect the need to find a replacement for Trent and truly not a day after being stationed here.” Virgil just nodded, he understood the circumstances and was glad to be able to witness such a sight. “The Commander insisted it would take quite some time to take someone off their post, he insisted he wasn't worried.” Ruth opened the door ready to leave, while Virgil was just trying for the pressure to not get to him.
Ruth said her final goodbyes and exited the tower.
Virgil then turned to the Royal, who went back to the same spot he had been before Ruth arrived, and just stared out the window as his nurse left.
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As Roman sat near the big window just looking out he started wondering why Virgil had even come here in the first place. He vaguely remembered Trent mentioning him being a messenger but that could just be some Knightly insult he was unaware of. So… he asked “Virgil, if you don't mind me asking...why exactly did you come here?” Virgil looked alarmed for a second as he had just zoned out for about 20 minutes “Commander Arlott, wanted me to deliver a message to Trent” Roman just responded with a simple “Oh” and resumed his staring out the window.
“So… how did the book end?” Virgil felt a little embarrassed to interrupt the silence to ask but he got extremely invested, to the point that if the Prince refused to share the information he might just read it himself. Roman just laughed, he knew how intriguing the book was “Well… In the middle of the mother’s plan being in motion they actually got word of a rebel group that had been inspired by their attempts to take the crown back.” Virgil sat down right across from the Royal nodding for him to go on.
Roman continued speaking but he kept getting distracted by a tapping sound. At first it was nothing, but then it got so prominent he couldn't ignore it anymore. Mid-rant he stopped himself and started looking around to see where the sound could possibly be coming from.
Virgil was confused as to why the heir had stopped speaking but then he started to hear taps. They didn’t sound like just a regular forest sound and they would surely not hear minuscule noises from such a height.
“Dear knight, are you hearing that?” Virgil nodded and stood up to see what could possibly be causing the ticks, Roman stood right along with him and then suddenly pointed towards the balcony doors. “Virgil, it's coming from the balcony.”
Virgil stopped to listen carefully “Yeah, but what's causing it?” They then saw a little pebble hit the glass doors of the balcony and make the tapping they had been hearing.
Roman went to the balcony with no hesitation and opened the doors.
Virgil started having his thoughts race a mile a minute, what if this was to lure the prince out to assassinate him? If the prince died on his watch he would be hung no doubt.
As these thoughts crossed his mind, he moved forward to follow the prince. He then quickly realized the prince was leaning over the balcony having a casual conversation with his possible murderer.
“Remy, what are you doing here? Ruth is going to kill you if you don't get there by sunrise!” Roman screamed down to the man in a black cape with dark tinted glasses covering his eyes. “Well yeah! But I had to make a stop here! I have something for you!” That made Roman start jumping with anticipation as to what Remy could have brought him from his trip
“What is it Rem? Is it something fancy? Is it food? Is it a book?” Though his eyes couldn't be spotted, not only because of his glasses but due to the height, it was very apparent he rolled his eyes. “No! It's a letter.” That got Roman even more excited. Could it actually be him? Roman haven't received anything but it could actually be! Finally some good news!
“Who’s it from?!” Remy looked down at the letter as if inspecting it “I don't know.” That caused Roman’s excitement to dull immensely. He would have surely marked it. There’s still a chance it could be him, right? Roman’s anticipation quickly turned into more of an anxious feeling.
taglist:
@meowthefluffy
@shade-romeo
@pattonsmile
@sevencreepycatsinacoat
@mychemically-imbalanced-romance
@innerpostturtle
@queenof-hell
@joyrose-fandomer
@vpow
#prinxiety#remile#ts roman#roman sanders#ts virgil#virgil sanders#roman angst#prinxiety fic#platonic remy n roman
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Haikyuu!!│Boys going grocery shopping w/ you! HC’s│Ft. Bokuto, Nishinoya, Terushima, Kuroo & Kunimi
I had this late night idea and just HAD to follow through, the chaos would be O F F T H E C H A R T S. Thank you to @deathcab4daddy for helping me brainstorm some good characters for this post lmao I love you bby and can’t wait to do a collab. <3
E N J O Y ~
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
BOKUTO:
WHEN I TELL YOU THIS BOI PICKS UP EVERYTHING IN SIGHT LIKE A 6 YEAR OLD
I FUCKING MEAN IT.
“(Y/N) we need this”
“Bokuto we do not need a 7th jar of peanut butter.”
“But (Y/N) it has a squirrel on the front-”
“BOKUTO I SWEAR TO GOD”
Tries to drift on the edge of the cart like something straight outta CSGO and the cart nearly obliterates under his weight.
V e r y l o u d u n e c c e s s a r i l y.
Everyone always stares at y’all when you’re going through the isles bc ur literally escorting a man-child sprawled in a shopping cart who’s going “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” at everything he sees like he’s a toddler at the zoo who’s never encountered a chimpanzee before.
Unless you have a bottomless bank account do NOT take him shopping of any kind he is LETHAL.
When you’re at the check-out he turns it into a basketball competition and tries to launch everything perfectly on to the conveyor belt.
Volleyball player? Nah this sis with the NBA now.
Do not ask him to go get something, he will return with at least 9 items you didn’t need and everything BUT the item you requested
He turned up with a whole ass pineapple, a jar of jam, a stick of butter and a bottle of olive oil.
Like,,,where is the correlation in those items???
Once made the mistake of asking him to grab some pads from the hygiene section and specified it HAD to be with wings
Boy showed up ten minutes later and looking very confuzzled.
You questioned why he has a pack of wingless pads in one hand and a can of red bull in the other.
He said it’s because they didn’t have any with wings so he figured the Redbull would suffice and do the job for you.
i-
NISHINOYA:
Can literally fit him in the little cart seat made for kids and he LOVES it lmaoooo IT’S SO CUTE MY HEART.
HE JUST SWINGS HIS LEGS EXCITABLY WHILE YOUR GETTING STUFF AAAAAAA
Ppl give you such weird looks though bc you have a guy who’s at least 14 years older than the intended demographic sitting there and raising his hands in elation over you copping a cookie dough pie and chucking it in.
Again, another who is VERY LOUD FOR NO REASON AT ALL.
Get’s out of the cart after a while bc his legs be growing numb and begins roaming around.
Someone came back with a feral Noya in hand stating “Is this your child” WNDKJWEFNWJEF.
M’AM HE’S LIKE 18 EXCUSE YOU.
Was salty about it for the rest of the day.
Just ruffle his hair and call him Senpai
Problem solved.
Picks up tons of exotic fruit that look more like plastic or fuzzy poisonous plants and begs you to get them.
“Noya what the fuck is that.”
“...a Pitaya.”
“...”
“Can we get it-”
“no.”
“(Y/N)-”
“I SAID NO DAMMIT”
Last time you bought some strange fruit he took it to practise and got Tanaka to spike it LMAOOO
IT SPLATTERED E V E R Y W H E R E
AND OVER DAICHI’S SHIRT.
He begged you to no longer allow Noya to purchase weird fruits from then on since he is like a child with a nerf gun.
He once picked up a phat wrinkly purple fruit and turned to you asking if it was an overgrown raisin.
“Noya sweetie that’s a Date.”
HE FULLY TSK’ED AND THREW IT BACK SINCE IT REMINDED HIM OF DATE TECH I CAN’T.
My boy out here defending Asahi even in the Grocery Isles.
We stan a loyal king.
TERUSHIMA:
Another one who tries to stand on the ledge and the cart wheels almost collapse because it wasn’t designed to hold the weight of a young adult.
Oh young adult??? Sorry I mean’t MAN CHILD.
He treats a shopping experience as a time to practise his aim apparently because he ALWAYS THROWS SHIT AT YOU TO THE POINT YOU’RE THREATENED TO BE KICKED OUT.
Definitely picks up phallic looking objects and places them against his crotch, snorting and saying “Like what you see (Y/N)?”
Homeboy is stood there in front of a wife and child presenting his cucumber appendage for the world to see.
He once grabbed a pair of fat ass melons and pressed them against his chest, shaking them and belting the lyrics to ‘My Milkshake’ while begging you to SQUEEZE HIS MELONS.
“Look (Y/N) they’re bigger than yours!”
I just-
I give up.
Constantly tries to sneak mutli-packs of energy drinks into the cart to the point you’re convinced he is going to keel over from heart failure and kidney stones by the age of 20.
Has his airpods in 90% of the time and treats the isles as his personal dance floor.
He busting them MOVES and performing the MJ moonwalk while in the dairy section.
ONCE HE SLID TOO FAST AND SLIPPED ON HIS REAR IN FRONT OF LIKE 12 PEOPLE LMAOO
He was DEAD silent the rest of the trip.
Probably the most serene shopping experience you’ve had to date.
The checkout clerks occasionally hit on Mr. Sore-Ass over here.
Until he opens his mouth and they realise he’s a total dolt and question how you have the patience for him.
You don’t know either honestly.
The whole bagging experience is spent with them shooting you sympathetic glances as if to say ‘sis you shoulda’ left him at home’.
Yes, yes you should have.
Never a dull moment with Teru as your shopping partner.
KUROO:
LITERALLY LIKE A MIDDLE-AGED MAN OR A TODDLER WHEN Y’ALL GO SHOPPING THERE IS NEVER AN EVEN MIDDLE-GROUND.
Frequently cracks lame-ass food puns or dad jokes that make you want to crawl into a hole and die.
You have competitions on who can come up with the most and the loser always faces a penalty.
Kuroo and creating penalties do NOT mix safely so you better hope you win.
“I love you a waffle lot.”
Proceeds to hold up a wrapped waffle.
Ok that one was kinda cute you’ll let it slide.
“I ap-peach-iate you Kuroo.”
Cue HyenaLaugh.mp3
“Want a pizza me baby? Bitch peas, doughnut take me lightly.”
You changed your mind.
You didn’t talk to him the duration of that shopping experience, no penalty could be as horrifying as what just came out of his mouth.
“(Y/N)... sometimes I feel like you don’t carrot all.”
You slapped him with said carrot and obviously had to pay for it after.
You forced him to eat it raw.
He is the definition of Neutral disaster when you go shopping.
Shitty food puns aside, he is actually very responsible when making sure you both get what you need.
Not without tons of poking, prodding, and blowing into your ear while you’re trying to decide what ingredients to buy for dinner.
You contemplated serving him a plate of bubbling snot and moulded broccoli seasoned with rosemary.
Bone apple teeth, bitch.
Ofc you didn’t because he always pulls out the puppy eyes and cuddles card after since he knows he’s well and truly rattled your patience lmao.
Actually picks really healthy food options?? Being the captain of a team he has the responsibility of keeping his health in top condition and leading by example so at least he knows the right ingredients to make a bomb-ass and nutritious meal ig.
Y’all always bicker and tease each other at the checkout which is usually great amusement for the clerk serving you as they often smirk and perceive you as an old married couple.
Which tbh you kinda are, it feels like it at least.
Still such a big asshole though lmao you never leave the store without your sanity being scathed.
KUNIMI:
Honestly just wanted an excuse to make jokes at the expense of the Aoba Johsai teammates.
and what better candidate for cracking these than Kunimi.
He’s a very chill partner to have tag along with you on your endeavours.
Not without some grumbling and groaning on his part though, lazy bitch.
You always finish shopping trips with a busted lung at how much you have been laughing though with some of the SHADY ASS REMARKS HE MAKES ABOUT THE OTHER TEAM MATES.
You were outside the store when you both spotted an angry looking Doberman tied to a nearby post.
“Smh who let Kyotani outside again.”
You hadn’t even set foot in the store yet and he was already spitting flaming insults.
[Walking up to the automatic double doors]
“Damn Oikawa move out of my way.”
Oikawa just tryna live and he keeps getting roasted for his flat cheeks
#StopOikawaAssShaming
Ten minutes of scouring the store later he picks up a spikey Kiwano and compares it to Iwaizumi’s hair.
Proceeds to beg you not to tell my boy Iwa because he KNOWS he will get decked to the gym floor.
Passers by often wonder why you’re wheezing and producing noises like a boiling kettle.
When I tell you no one is safe, I mean N O O N E.
“These Yule logs really out here looking like Matsukawa’s brows.”
The finisher was when Kunimi picked up a turnip and said
“Huh, kinda looks like Kindaichi.”
I just-
He could roast a whole chicken in minutes from the burn of these comments I stg.
You can now never look at the Seijou team without various foods or inanimate objects plaguing your thoughts.
Thanks, Kunimi.
#hq#haikyuu#kuroo tetsurō#nishinoya yuu#bokuto kotaro#terushima yūji#karasuno#johzenji#nekoma#fukurodani#haikyuu headcanons#hq headcanons#haikyuu x reader#aoba johsai#kunimi akira#seijou#seijoh
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I see you posting Odo and I'm curious: What do you think about Odo autism? I've heard a lot of autistic ppl relate to him and I was sceptical but now watching ds9 I'm kinda relating to him in that way soo. Julian and Odo autistic kings? (And honestly everyone else on ds9 as well but we'll leave that analysis for later 😳) sory for the long ask
i say autism bc im autistic and i like him and thats what happens to any fictional cunt i like 😁 but ehrm here's my lil strings of thoughts
BUT fr! no, no, no- i see it. granted, it still does feel like super early days for me to write anything truly indepth on that - not to mention, that kinda thing isnt my forte (i just talk to meself a lot innit<3 and those thoughts arent always so coherent or wonderfully put) but i think its like...
well, tip of the iceberg: he's an alien, yah? and quite specifically, one not amongst his kind - and therefore kind of an outsider, who doesn't have a blueprint on how he's supposed to be. and instead, he has to try and integrate into a predominantly humanoid society. and that setup really lends itself to, like, being analogous with autism narratively. LIKE... it's kind of a thing, isnt it, honestly, where aliens (and androids/ai too!) are often incidentially read as autistic. which sometimes that's- yknow. i'll drop a thought on that at the end. BUT, spock and data are the obvious examples - even if u strip back some of their more "stereotypical autistic mannerism" or whatever. bc this idea of, like... learning social standards, as odo would have had to, yeah.
but furthermore. he's quite lliterally being taught to redefine his existence, to present as humanoid. you can read that as a metaphor for masking, easy. and granted - i havent even finished this ep yet - but with how The Alternate elaborates a bit more on his past... i know a lot of autistic people (myself included) have had a traumatic experience with being forced to mask in certain ways. being pushed into it, because it's what's best for us as Dr Mora says - even though the "best" is just the expectation of how a person should act, which is totally arbitrary.
and with Dr Mora, also, you can extrapolate more parallels: with how he insists that Odo wasn't ready to be let out into society, that he wouldn't cope on his own, that he wasn't yet meeting this necessary standard, that he won't be accepted and accomodated for... and again lotsa ppl ik have that experience!
and it's not just that. i think... ok, going back to data and spock: again i say they're very "stereotypically autistic" in their mannerisms. yknow how it is. odo doesn't always read so overtly, but there's some habits he has? that i think also apply.
cant remember what episode it was. but it was, ehrm.... he was talking about lying and how he could tell ppl were doing it- and the way he analysed ppl was, like, by cataloguing very specific movements. not emotions or expressions. instead he methodically deconstructed it.
and... with justice. ok. personal fave there bc he does have a fixation on it? and idk- I GET THAT TOO, YAH? unsure if one track minded is the most appropriate term, bc its not like a lack of nuance even if it sometimes feels like tht to ppl... but that kinda thought process.
and just general social mannerisms. some detachment tht i also kinda vibe with. and when lwaxana came onto him and he LITERALLY had no clue what to even do, bc he was so outta his depth like - OKAY, SAME BESTIE? SAME, SAME, SAME... and again these lil bits at the end are all more, like. small lil things that i dont think are indicative full stop but i do find they RESONATE, yknow!!!!!!
SO YEAH LIKE. MY POINT IS. i see where ppl are coming from!! me too<3 i'd like a lil autstic reading of odo 😁
(BUT: as i did briefly say earlier... i am verastile with, like, autistic readings when it comes to inhuman characters. and the same applies to gender/sexuality, actually - although i find it easier to explain why with the latter as thats a lil different for sure. basically im v much of the omg yesss soooo true bestie when it comes to my own projections and most other ppl's but also there are . yknow . sticking points when it comes to using inhuman behaviour as a parallel for autism that makea me go 🤨 which i mention in PASSING bc idk if i can unpack that whole moving van of stuff by myself in a silly little aside but YOU KNOW. just feels like some comment on tht has to be said here since im going on a big long rambley anyways 😁
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remember me || t.a.
SUMMARY: Tamaki Amajiki saves a civilian. He doesn’t expect her to buy him coffee and teach him about the wiles of floral culture.
PAIRING: Tamaki Amajiki x Fem!Reader
RATINGS: T+
WARNINGS: mild violence and language, etc.
WORD COUNT: 6.9k+
LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* TAG LIST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ is at the end of this post!
AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my first submission for the @bnhabookclub provisional license event! if you want to participate, here is the post! and if you want to apply for the server, here is the application!!
i have to get sappy here for a second. i had 2 panic attacks while writing this because i was so self-conscious, so riddled with doubts about a. was i getting tama’s character right b. was i even on par with the great and wonderful writers of this fandom and c. am i proud of this? eventually, after talking it through, i realized that it doesn’t matter how i measure up to everyone else. i should be writing this because i want to, and because i’m enjoying myself. so, special thanks to @freckledoriya and @k-atsukidayo who have once again been my lifeline. i love you guys ♡
if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!
Tamaki Amajiki had never given flowers much thought.
He usually passes by the windows of a floral shop and notices the blossoms just enough to smell the variance of air – from stale to sweet – and then he moves on, not much effort spent towards the colorful display of petals in the open windows.
But now, after finding you, he cannot stop thinking about the way they bloom.
“Columbine,” your eyes light up, thumbs pressed to the dark red petals, “they are used to symbolize anxiety.”
Tamaki’s eyes graze over the flower, wondering how you could know so instantly that he might connect with this specific budding plant. The tether he feels to it is strange, something particular but also aloof – as if he could not place it if he tried.
Anxiety is something very relevant to Tamaki’s life, a demon he has struggled with every day since he could comprehend the reason his stomach tied into knots, the worry he keeps pent up in his chest burning ulcers into his belly. He wraps his arms around his waist at the memory of meeting you, the way his entire body was wrought with anxious thoughts, mind unable to comprehend the extent of your impact on him at the time.
You tilt your head as if able to realize that his mind has begun to spiral, “We don’t usually add these into bouquets, but something about them is just so beautifully broken, I can’t help but fall in love.”
It is a typical day on patrol when he first stumbles upon you, nothing special or out of the ordinary, not really.
Tamaki has been working under Fatgum’s agency for a few years to date, and he’s comfortable with the route that he’s been assigned, a routine he has held since the beginning of his deployment. The elder hero understood from the very start that Tamaki tends to try and avoid social interaction. In response, Fatgum made sure to create a patrol route so Tamaki could walk the least populated paths while also providing an effective amount of protection to the community. It’s the least he could do for the young Suneater, a new hero steadily climbing the charts despite his difficulty in speaking with the press outlets.
Some days Tamaki will try to stop by various vendors’ carts, eating foods that will create good manifestations for his quirk or just to support the local economy. It also allows him to try and force himself to have a discussion, even if there isn’t much substance to it, trying to grow more familiar with the ideology of small talk. He’s decided that he is going to stop by his favorite sushi bodega today, already thinking up his lengthy sashimi order as he starts towards the food stand.
And then he hears someone cry out.
Tamaki races in the direction of the distressed sound, channeling his quirk as he rounds the corner. The tentacles that are thanks to the octopus he regularly incorporates into his diet are extended from his fingertips, ready for action as soon as he skids to a stop in the street.
Your body is pressed against the wall of the alleyway, face cut by the brick beneath your cheek. You connect your gaze to his, your brilliantly shining irises seeking him out like a moth to a flame. Tamaki can’t help the way his chest constricts at the sight of such a helpless person, and then his heart lights on fire when he sees the burly man currently trying to take advantage of you. He snarls, digging his heels into the concrete, tentacles growing straight from his fingertips.
Before you can part your lips to try and beg for help or mercy, Tamaki is landing a swift blow to the thug’s head, successfully knocking him unconscious to the ground. You clasp your freed hands around your neck, coughing violently as you bend over at the waist, stars in your eyes and shards in your throat. A thin river of tears streams freely from your lids, and when you’re able to look back up at him, you’re far from embarrassed.
“Th-Thank you,” you manage, voice hoarse. You lick your lips and swipe your hands at your face to rid your skin of tears and snot, “Seriously. That guy-he came outta nowhere!”
Tamaki finds the adrenaline of the short-lived skirmish to have fled from his system, leaving behind only the crippling anxiety that makes him blush from head to toe. He swallows the growing lump in his throat when he realizes he’s been staring at you without responding for at least a full minute now. Your hands are shaking and your shoulders quiver, but Tamaki is frozen in place, feet unable to start towards you.
Fatgum taught him how to comfort civilians, but he’s never been good at it, and the way that you look at him like he hung the moon in the sky does not make the encumbrance of his task any less intense. He knows that the objectification and idolization of heroes is inevitable, no matter how poorly he projects himself onto the public. The reality of it all only does more to constrict his throat, the familiar shroud of apprehension blanketing his body and curling around his spine like a snake. It slithers its way up into his throat until he can’t breathe, tongue deadweight in his mouth.
“Black-eyed Susan,” you muse, plucking a set of three yellow flowers from a vase not too far from him. You turn the buds between your thumb and index finger, the canary-colored blossom blurring in midair as Tamaki tries to stay focused on it. He’s not so close with you that he can smell your perfume, a distinct scent even when you are hidden amongst the blossoms in the greenhouse, but near enough that your presence is dizzying.
It is hard to focus anyway, what with the way your eyes are sparkling under the lowlights of the greenhouse.
You bring the bright flower toward your face and scrunch your nose as you sniff it, eyelids fluttering closed in bliss, “They’re used to express a fierce sense of justice. Usually, we use these in our arrangements for hero galas and festivals.”
Your eyes turn to him, connecting with his violet irises as a smile tugs the corners of your mouth upward, “Don’t you think they’re stunning, Tama?”
For some reason, when he answers, you can’t help but feel there’s a duality to his words, as if he is saying one thing but meaning something else entirely. Tamaki’s eyes are trained in on your face, not the flower, and his lips move in slow motion, like syrup dripping from his tongue, “Oh yes,” Tamaki is close to smiling, “quite stunning.”
You return to your arrangement and begin to hum a gentle melody between heavy breaths as you meticulously place the flowers in their perfect order. The way your brow furrows, creases ever-present on your forehead, draws Tamaki’s attention.
For a fleeting second, he wonders if he were to press his mouth to your worried skin, would you find yourself able to relax? To allow your body to melt into his touch?
“U-Uh, yeah,” he forces the words out, a hand brushing the back of his neck to try and relieve some of the tension he’s feeling. Tamaki adjusts his cape, taking a step forward, just like Fatgum taught him in his earliest days of training. He reaches out his hand for you to shake, but you’re fumbling towards him to capture his frame in a hug before he can make sense of what is going on.
You cup his face in your hands as you pull back to look him in the eyes, completely oblivious, it would seem, to his current state of panic, “Thank you so much! You’re Suneater, right?”
Tamaki gulps down what is left of his dignity and nods in silent confirmation, eyes a little glossy as he gazes over your face. He takes in your features, noting the slope of your nose and the bow of your lips, and he wonders if he’s ever seen anyone as pretty as you before. Normally his body would turn him to mush at the mere sight of a person such as you coming so close to him, but there is something different about your aura, the way you carry yourself. Your hands pull from his face, and he can’t help the manner that his body follows you, desperate for more.
Just as he’s coming to his conclusion about your beauty and grace, he realizes that you’re talking again, lips moving animatedly. Only this time, you aren’t speaking directly to him. You’re on the phone with the local police, letting them know that there’s been a low-level thief apprehended in the streets.
Tamaki is in awe of you – absolutely shocked at your ability to take charge of the situation, to hold onto it with an iron grip and make it your own. He should be the one alerting the cops, giving them an address and a rundown of what’s happened – that’s his job. And yet, here you are, phone to your ear and authority in your voice, detailing the scene down to the hair and eye color of the perpetrator currently propped up in the alleyway. He’s still unconscious, with his head lolled to the side with tongue protruding from his mouth.
Amajiki’s jaw is hanging just slightly, you notice, so when you step forward, crowding his space all over again, you nudge his chin with the crook of your thumb. A gentle giggle parts your lips, your head tilted in such a way that reminds him of a curious young animal, “Do you want to stop in at my shop? The police said they should be here any minute.”
“Y-Your shop?” he stutters, eyes flitting around to the different curbside stores on the strip of the road in an attempt to pinpoint the building you might be speaking of. He sees a few food stands and a bodega selling travel brochures, but nothing that screams you.
Although, does Tamaki really know enough about you to determine what kind of shop you might own or manage? He chastises himself for jumping too far ahead, his intense and sudden feelings forcing his heart to tumble over his inhibitions.
The habit of his emotions leaping into his throat is one he has struggled to curb for years now – he’s fully aware of his naturally forward-thinking spirit. He can take one action, one string of words, and force it into a new, paradoxical reality which he has fashioned all on his own in a matter of moments. The fabric of this new world is woven so intricately that it’s difficult for him to pull himself out of it, the alternate universe sucking him in and creating a vortex in which his mind can play.
You nod, grabbing your phone out of your pocket and unlocking it quickly, heading to your pictures folder for something specific. The split seconds in which you are distracted give him time to pull himself out of the recesses of his mind, to mend the fabric of time to bring him back to the present. You proudly hold the device up in his face, and he blinks harshly so he can focus.
The photograph on your screen shows him a rather familiar front display stand, dozens of budding flowers framing a beautifully crafted window sign that he’s seen every day since the start of his time at Fatgum’s agency. Tamaki tilts his head, trying to take in the store fully before he admits that he patrols by your flower shop consistently.
His head spins – he can’t believe he never stopped into your store before. Could he have met you a long time ago? Could he have seen you every day for the past few months, getting to learn your favorite flowers and flavors and the specific perfume you wear to smell so enticing? Another question plagues his mind – would you have stopped to give him the time of day had he not met you by saving your life?
“Oh,” he forces himself to speak, to dislodge himself from his tumultuous thoughts, “I-I’ve seen that shop before. You own it?”
You’re looking at the photo now, marveling at it with proud, shining irises. The picture distracts you from his enlarged pupils and blushing cheeks, and he’s thankful for the reprieve of your daunting gaze. Tamaki takes advantage of the seconds of your distracted scrutiny to map out your frame again, attempting to commit as much of you to memory as possible, given the short amount of time he has with you. He swallows the lump in his throat, licking his dry lips when you shove your phone back into your pocket, and he must refocus his eyes on some facet of your face other than your lips.
“There’s an adjoined coffee shop just to the left of it.” You’re smiling at him, and Amajiki thinks his heart is going to beat right out of his chest, flesh bruised from the intensity of its ministrations underneath the skin of his pectoral. The beginnings of a bashful tinge of pink warm your cheeks and ears, and Tamaki speculates whether your body is reacting to him or the heat of the afternoon. You lick your lips, “We can grab a scone and a cup of coffee if you like? My treat since you saved me.”
Tamaki is immediately refusing, holding his hands up as he shakes his head, ducking away from you entirely. “No, n-no, I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Your lips are pulled downward in a pouted frown, eyes losing a little of their luster. Tamaki regrets instantly that his mind is so tied down to the rules, the reality that: “Heroes aren’t supposed to accept bribes, gifts, or rewards in any form.”
You are twirling a different yellow flower between your fingers – this one is much more fragile in nature. Tamaki eyes the papery blossom and ponders the antiqueness of its appearance, as if it were meant to be made into outdated floral prints on fine china.
Your eyes are focused in on the center of the bud, narrowing just enough that he can tell you’re trying to concentrate, “These are yellow carnations. Carnations can mean so many different things – red for heartache, white for innocence, pink for the reality of being unable to forget someone – but yellow, wow yellow is something much more draining, exhausting.”
Tamaki is scooting closer to you, his body drawn in by the tone of your voice, “If the other flowers mean something so kind, h-how can this one have such the opposite effect?”
Your eyes are sparkling, but there is something hidden in the back of them, an emotion he can’t quite pluck out. Perhaps you have a familiarity with this type of flower? Does it hold a different power for you than the others? Are there memories tucked away in the recesses of your subconscious that wreck your spirit when you see this type of blossom?
“That’s the beauty in the buds,” you laugh at your attempt at a jesting remark, eyes hooded now as you glance downward, “if you choose the wrong one, you’re sending a different message entirely.”
Tamaki’s knee bumps into yours, and usually, he would pull away, but this time something feels different, weightier than before. His eyes cannot stray from you; he finds it difficult even when he tries. And so, he succumbs to the desire and leans closer. Near enough to you now that your body heat is intoxicating once mixed with the headiness of your perfume. He tries to keep his eyes from crossing and his hands in his lap, body uncharacteristically wanton for your skin.
You take a breath, your chest expanding, “Yellow carnations mean rejection, disappointment. Usually, they’re used as a revenge flower, given to someone who has harmed you, or taken advantage of you. We don’t do many yellow carnation bouquets.”
The phrase only seems to make you more determined – your brows pull together so tightly that your forehead creases, “Well,” you pause, brushing your hand over your face, “I guess it just won’t have to be any of those things then.”
Tamaki’s head tilts just enough to remind you of a confused animal. His inky irises are zeroed in on you, raven locks of hair falling in his eyes, “Wh-“
“It’s a date!”
His eyes practically bug out of his head, sweat starting to bead down his temples. He shakes his head and steps back from you, holding his hands up in the space currently separating your bodies. Tamaki attempts at conversation, trying to tell you in as few syllables as possible that no, that’s not okay, we can’t, I don’t think that’s allowed…
You shrug, “Listen, call it whatever you want - it’s just coffee.”
The police arrive with sirens blaring a few minutes later, taking down a statement and emailing Tamaki a new set of paperwork he’s going to have to fill out later regarding how and why he used his quirk. He secretly is praying that you will flee the scene once you realize how mundane this part of the hero job can be – interviews and paperwork and confessions on the street.
Maybe you’ll find him and the whole process tedious enough that you’ll run away, back to your flower shop where you can live on in peace, pretending as if you never met him. It’s not always fun and games being a hero, and typically, once a civilian realizes it, they walk away from the scene at hand and find something much more interesting to take up their time. Tamaki is sure you must have a thousand other things you would prefer to be doing than waiting for him to wrap up a discussion with a police officer, or so he’d like to believe.
For some reason, it does not surprise him to find that you are still waiting on him, patiently sipping a bottle of water given to you by another officer while you chat, feet twisting back and forth to pass the time. Tamaki’s mind begins to wander again to how he always passed your shop and never found you outside, watering the arrangements or even in passing in the window. He would have waved – that’s what Fatgum taught him to do. He has been trained to interact with civilians, to remind them that he is there for their protection and safety, as a beam of light in the darkness of their daily lives. There are other shop owners who he knows by name, their faces somewhat cataloged in the recesses of his mind, so he knows he would recall meeting you.
You’re remarkable; Tamaki would have remembered you.
And yet, he knows that now, every time he passes your shop, he’ll think of you, regardless of whether or not you’re outside watering the plants or inside working on an arrangement. Tamaki will be distracted with thoughts of your pretty smile, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about your shop. Surely he’ll never be able to walk the beat of this street again without remembering you, his heart hammering in his ribs as he plucks up the courage to pass your shop each day. He’d bank on the hope that you’d see him, that you’d turn to wave, and he might be able to catch a glimpse of you, maybe even hold a full conversation more than a few sentences long.
It’s like his eyes are magnets for you now, drawn to find your essence like a northern pole. He turns his head so he can look over the officer’s shoulder, trying to find your frame again amidst the police and pedestrians alike.
Tamaki is more than surprised to find you staring directly back at him.
“What are these?” Amajiki points to a white flower he realizes he should have memorized based on its simplicity, and yet the hero knows that he’d sooner hear your bell-like voice rattling off the meanings to him, “I feel like I’ve seen them before…”
“Daisies,” you giggle, plucking a plume from your wall on display.
You twirl the flower around, taking an inhale of it before returning your attention to the hero stood in front of you. Your body moves without thinking - inhibitions tucked away in a box in your heart as you step forward, so your body is almost flush with his own. You press one palm flat against his chest, eyes connected with his inky orbs as you grin.
Tamaki is frozen in place, his feet cemented into the ground. He couldn’t escape you even if he wanted to, what with the way his anxious heart stutters underneath the cage of his ribs. Amajiki is somewhat thankful for the bone structure around the organ, acting like a prison so his heart can’t flutter out into the open. His body blushes from head to toe, painting his skin pink, when he feels your fingertips brush against his cheek.
“You look so pretty, Tama,” you murmur as you tuck the bright white blossom behind his ear.
You cannot pull your gaze away from the fragile petals held in place by the thickness of his violet hair and the curve of his ear. The blossom looks so lovely and light in contrast to his inky hair, tucked away like a secret between the strands and his skin. You are practically whispering when you speak next, afraid you might shatter some unspoken moment, “A daisy symbolizes innocence and hope. They’re typically used to symbolize the potential of new beginnings, a promise of faith despite a certainly somber situation.”
Tamaki’s face is bright red, but he manages to speak, “O-Oh, so a get-well type of flower?”
“Something like that.” Your hand ghosts over his cheek, pushing the bud deeper against his temple so the petals are flayed outward, a hauntingly beautiful smile painted on your lips. “It looks purely providential in your hair, Amajiki. Like a light in the dark.”
When you catch him staring, your left eye drops in a wink. Tamaki knows that he has never felt his entire body blush before, but now he is privy to what the sensation is like, an intense heat traveling from his ears to his toes. It’s hot and stimulating in all the strangest of ways, pinpricks of heat underneath his skin, making it seem like he may balloon up and fly away at any given time. He coughs to try and conceal the way his throat is bobbing, covering his mouth with his gloved hand. Even his palms are bright pink beneath the white leather of his suit, turned darker in shade by the overwhelming heat of your gaze but thankfully hidden by his gloves.
The eye contact between the two of you must make you bolder, because you are walking towards him now with purposeful strides. Tamaki knows that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t make his body combust instantaneously to avoid talking with you, and he can’t quite run away when you’re striding towards him. None of those options would prove very heroic.
And, at the end of the day, despite his personal inhibitions and self-restrictions, his job is to be a good hero, to strive to provide the public with safety and comfort, and maybe today the word heroism just means coffee.
You step over to him, your body closer now than before, “You think you’re ready for that coffee now?”
“I-It’s three in the afternoon, what if the caffeine-“
“There is this cool, new invention called decaffeinated coffee,” you deadpan, raising a patronizing brow at him, smirk lilting your lips, “or you can always try tea.”
Tamaki runs his fingers over his jaw in trepidation, the pads of his digits soothing his sweating skin. He licks his lips and chews on the inner corner of his mouth, diverting his eye contact from you to the ground, focus now steadily on the toes of his boots.
The first thought in his mind is that he could be reported for this – he’s still on duty, and he’s decked out in his full hero costume. If he were to be spotted by one of the head heroes or a news outlet for being too friendly with a civilian after saving their life, it could end poorly for him in terms of his reputation. Not only would Fatgum be disappointed, the Suneater’s ranking would dip into the undesirable zone, and he’d probably lose a few of his current brand endorsement deals.
And yet, when you grab him by the elbow and loop your arm through his, Tamaki is frozen just long enough for you to begin dragging him down the street with little opposition.
“Hollyhock,” your eyes roll back in your head as you smell the pink flower in front of your face, a whimper caught in your throat at the dizzying scent. You groan, slumping down in your chair, “One of my favorites.”
Tamaki’s ears perk at the statement, eyes widening just enough so he can memorize the shape of the floral arrangement, stashing away the memory in hopes that he might pull it forward if he were to need it in the future.
“This flower is usually an accent piece, something to show that the recipient is ambitions, outgoing,” you place the stem back into the arrangement, neatly tucking it away to ensure the set is not disturbed. “They’re so stunning, such a phenomenal meaning. So often we don’t reward ambition, instead trying to stifle it.”
The hero turns toward the arrangement, eyeing it carefully. He tilts his head, careful of what he says next, “They a-are pretty flowers.”
“Yes,” your voice has quietened when you admire the blossoms, eyes glazing over as if you were under a spell. You sound far away when you speak, like you might be somewhere between here and there, feet planted on the ground beneath you but mind and soul much further away. “I think so.”
The scent of floral buds and coffee beans makes his head spin – or maybe it’s just the closeness of your body and the gentle breeze that blows your perfume towards him. Your smile mixed with the sunlight of the day makes Tamaki’s breath hitch, eyes averted from your gaze so he won’t turn every shade of red in the book.
“Bean There, Done That,” you rattle off the name of the shop, “they give me free coffee because I put together the floral arrangements for their shop.”
Tamaki is overwhelmed by the menu alone – his eyes roll back and forth over each flavor of roast and style of drink that they offer. Eventually, he feels terrible for holding up the line and he starts to stutter, attempting to spit out some flavor of some type of some kind of drink. His surprise only grows into silence when you half-step in front of him, palm jutting out to wrap around his bicep as you start ordering something that sounds like he might actually like it.
“I-I’m sorry,” he apologizes as you wait off to the side, his toes overlapping as he turns his feet inward. Your hand has since released him, but that does not stop his body from blazing beneath his costume from your touch. Tamaki coughs to hide the trepidation, “I-uh, I don’t really…I don’t really drink coffee? I-It doesn’t do much to help my quirk, so I tend to stay away from it.”
You shrug, folding your hands together at the knuckles in front of your waist, “It’s okay! I figured.” You’re turning to look at him, softness held in your irises as you behold his face, “Plus this place has a lot of options, so it can get kind of easy to feel bogged down, especially when you’re in a line, and other people are waiting impatiently.”
Wow, he thinks to himself, it’s like she’s in my head.
You’re pressing your palm to his arm now, warm touch once again like an anchor to his befuddled mind. When he looks down, you’re smiling, and some small part of him wishes your expression would never fade away into anything less miraculous than your grin coupled with dimpled cheeks and shining irises.
The crumpled petals look like sheets of tissue paper all bundled together, but somehow your magic touch makes them look appealing, beautiful even. Tamaki watches as your delicate hands swirl around the arrangement, tucking different colored flowers into various sections of the vase, transforming it from something that was one dull on its own to a symphony of color and meaning. He tilts his head and smiles, a gesture he’s discovered to be much easier now that he’s found you, “A-And, what are these?”
You glance up from your work, hands caught beneath a blossom, “Hydrangeas.”
He nods, as if he might know exactly what that word entails, lying through his teeth. When you see his unsure expression, you can’t help the grin that tugs upward on the corner of your mouth, “Do you know what these symbolize?”
Tamaki curls in on himself, shoes overlapping as his knees knock, “Uh, n-no?”
“Hydrangea flowers are beautiful because they are used to communicate gratitude for being understood,” you pluck a blooming flower from the stand, turning to hand it to him. When his knuckles brush yours, it’s like a dozen electric shockwaves tumbling through his veins, blistering his blood beneath the skin, turning him to ash inside. Tamaki gasps at the contact, but he’s thankful that you don’t laugh at his unexpected outburst, or rather you continue as if nothing happened, allowing him to shrink back in on himself with less shame than he may have been burdened with otherwise.
You lick your lips and take a short breath, eyes returned to the arrangement at hand, “Hydrangeas are beautiful and easy to manage, most people have them in their yards or gardens for decoration. I haven’t met many gardeners who know what the true meaning is, however, it seems that people always choose them for their bouquets.”
“When would you give someone a hydrangea?” Tamaki asks, eyes tracking your motions no matter which side of the arranging table you’re on. He cannot get enough of you, body drawn to your presence as he sits in wait of another story, another tale to tumble from your lips.
You are tilting your head, considering the question like it held the weight of a court behind it, as if Tamaki were your judge and jury. You sigh, the weight of the world seemingly settled on your shoulders, almost like you’d thought about this question far too much before, “I think if I were going through a hard time, and I had a friend who just was there for me, I would give them a bouquet of hydrangeas.”
“Why?”
He wishes he hadn’t blurted it out – how rude of him – but your answer makes it worth the accidental insensitivity.
“It’s easy to try and instruct someone on what you think they’re to do next,” you answer carefully, eyes following invisible directions as you stalk around the arrangement as if it were your prey. You grind your teeth together; Tamaki can tell based on the way your jaw quivers under the strain. “It’s difficult just to sit and listen. Even when it’s meant to be kind and helpful, it can sometimes be overwhelming to constantly be told how to react or what to say or how to handle a situation. Almost like they aren’t considering you at all, instead preaching to you of their prowess, how they might have done better if they were in your shoes.”
Your voice is almost chilling, hollow like a needle or a feather, “To find a friend who could listen to me without interjecting their opinion, without telling me what to do, now that is worthy of a hydrangea.”
He allows his subconscious thoughts to wander for a moment, thinking on the implications of you possibly having a mind-controlling quirk. Is that the reason he was okay with coming here? Was it all because you manifested a quirk that allows you to influence the minds of men? Or did your quirk work on women too? Did you-
“Hey,” your voice is gentle, subtle despite the loud volume of everyone else in the shop. Your palm is on his bicep, and for some reason, it anchors him instead of making him want to float away at the sudden contact. Your eyes are genuine as you whisper, “Breathe.”
Tamaki listens to you, taking a short breath in and exhaling soon after, eyes never losing direct contact with yours. His shoulders roll with tension, Tamaki’s lower lip tugged between the bite of his teeth. He swallows, realizing what a fool he must appear to be. How can a hero need assistance from a civilian just for breathing?
“I know what anxiety looks like.” You brush your thumb against his bulky costume, and Tamaki wishes a very secret thing then – something he would never admit aloud. He is curious about how intense your touch would be if he weren’t in his full hero outfit.
Would the pads of your fingertips be soft? Would he be able to feel the heat from your skin leeching onto his own? How much more calming might your skin be if it was direct on his own?
You tilt your head, a considerate grin tugging on the corners of your lips. He’s pleasantly surprised to note the dimples that dip inward, making you all the more appealing, as if you needed any additional help. Tamaki tries to say something, but it gets lost in his throat, so you speak instead, “I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you at the counter. I just wanted you to be a little more comfortable. I felt bad since I was the one who asked you to come.”
“N-No, it’s fine,” he forces the words out, turning to look you in the eyes. Tamaki grits his teeth together and muscles through the anxiety gripping his bones like a vice. He questions when the day will finally come when he might break. “I just feel bad for the people waiting on me.”
“This flower is pretty,” Tamaki licks his lips and leans forward, inspecting the blossom rather intently.
You laugh, and he’s reminded of how delicate you are when you giggle. His eyes are momentarily redirected toward you, taking in every curvature of your face, the dimples created by your smile, the way the gesture reaches your eyes, and it’s like little stars shine from your irises. Tamaki can’t help the way he grins, your laugh and your smile are infectious, much like your love for flowers.
“Have you seen one before?” you ask him, stepping towards the wall of blooms, “They’re a beautiful choice, a lot of meaning behind them. Most people have never seen one, though.”
Tamaki turns to face the flowers again, compelling himself to detract from your silhouette, “Are they rare?”
“Not necessarily,” you respond. You push yourself up on your toes to grab a bright red bud from the wall, twirling your choice blossom between your fingerprints. The scent wafts from the center of the flower, a small dusting of pollen coating Tamaki’s nose.
You giggle as you reach across to brush his skin free from the yellow powder, hand lingering just slightly too long for him to ignore your possible intent. You lick your lips, irises swallowed by your pupils for a moment, allowing him a direct line of sight into your soul. He reads you for a split second, and he swears that the look in your eyes mirrors his own when he thinks too hard about the way you move and the distinct notes of your smell. You’ve taken over every inch of his mind, every last curve of cerebrum and cerebellum.
For the first time, Tamaki is somewhat confident that you might be under the same spell.
“These are anemones,” you break him from his stupor, pulling his line of sight towards the budding flower in your grasp, “they signify anticipation – the build-up before the burst. Kind of like when you’re going to have your first kiss!”
Tamaki stutters, “T-That’s why you’d g-give someone this flower? Wh-When you want to kiss them?”
“No, silly,” you swat at him, smacking the back of your palm against his bicep. However, before you can turn away from him entirely, he notes the beautiful blush turning your cheeks to a rouge. You sigh dramatically with your hip leaned against the table, “I just mean that’s what the flower symbolizes – the tantalizing next step into the unknown.”
“Sounds scary.”
Your eyes light up as you turn to look at him again, irises gleaming under the bright lights of the flower shop, “Oh, but doesn’t it feel riveting?”
You are too close now, your pose intoxicating as he remembers every time you’ve come so near to him and he hasn’t had the strength to reach out and grasp you by the waist. Is this his time? Is this the day that he finally hands you a blossom and tells you the truth about the war raging inside of his chest? He has little soldiers prodding at his heart, stomping all over his bones, making them ache when he is adjacent to you.
Something within him wanders into the tumultuous thoughts of how you might respond, what his body would do in reaction to you. Would he finally find some relief from the plague of himself when he finally passes the threshold into adoring you on a physical level? Mentally, he’s been infatuated with you for some time now, but his throat can’t force the words out when he’s within ten feet of your frame.
Tamaki reaches out, his hand weighted down with reserve and implications. And yet, it’s almost like you lean into his touch before he can think on it too harshly, before he can make the rash decision to retract it and flee. He gasps audibly, eyes flashing to find your face, irises connecting like some sort of lighthouse out at sea, giving one another hope despite the disparity of every other moment leading up to this one.
“Anemones,” Tamaki whispers, voice curling from his throat, projecting onto you like a prayer. His hand is hot with hesitation as it rests on your rib cage, “I’ll have to remember that one.”
“Well, the people waiting on you can get over themselves. Everyone needs to learn a little patience, anyways.” You brush a hand through your hair, blowing away stray locks as they float back into your line of sight. You sigh, voice sounding dejected until your topic turns to blossoms, “I-I’m sorry if this wasn’t the place to bring you. I just figured it would be easy since it’s right next to my shop. I’d love to show you some flowers if you have time?”
“I-I’m on patrol,” he manages to push the words out from between his teeth, his throat grating like sandpaper, “I’m not sure…”
“Maybe another time, then?”
Dare he say you sound hopeful? And maybe even a little nervous?
How is it that each time his mind snaps him from you like a rubber band, you are right there, ready to stretch his limits yet again?
“I have seen this one…in Mother’s Day bouquets, I think?” Tamaki asks, unsure of himself this time as he circles the table. There are so many different types of blossoms, so many different meanings to decipher based on genus and color alone.
Your nod makes the pit in his stomach settle for some reason, and Amajiki releases a breath he didn’t realize that he was holding captive in his lungs. He’s not sure he understands why just the small reassurance of your head bobbing or your voice lilting on the right side of kind can calm the raging sea in his mind and stomach.
Tamaki is nearly tucked into your side, hands itching to find purchase against your body, his frame devoid of his typical uniform. The long sleeve shirt may cover the majority of his palms, but that does not mean he would refrain from baring his skin if it meant he could dip his toes into the edge of the ecstasy he might feel at your touch.
His fingertips are on the cusp of you, the calloused pads extended, beckoning you to come closer in a silent, desperate plea. Like your hearts are tied together in some other realm, as if you’ve done this a thousand times before, in a dozen other lives, you turn subconsciously to allow the collision of his fingerprints to impact the curve of your waist.
“Gladiolus means remembrance,” your voice is breathless as you point towards a set of buds that are seated proudly on the wall of flowers. You tilt your head upward, eyes shining as you press the heel of your palm into the column of his throat, thumb grazing his Adam’s apple to soothe it.
The weight of your words does not fall on deaf ears, Tamaki’s every sense on high alert as you speak next, “They can mean remembrance of someone past, or of someone you’re currently trying to honor. Or they can just mean a simple remember me.”
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* TAG LIST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
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Do you ever think about how in BOTW Robbie says in his diary he never got to say goodbye to Purah?
Like- I can't. I JUST CAN'T! 😭
WHEN I TELL U I THINK ABOUT THAT NEARLY EVERY DAY I AM ONLY BARELY EXAGGERATING
i reFUSE to accept it. i think he lied in his notebook. they all write their journals like they're EXPECTING them to be read. they all LIED and i rEFUSE-
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have the extended wip from my very first wip wednesday based on this VERY THING
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Slapping her hands over her mouth was all Purah could do to smother her own laughter, watching as Robbie smacked Link in his lower back with his rolled-up notebook.
“I’m starting to think I liked it better when you kept your nose outta things!” Robbie said, huffing and puffing his entire way back to his chair.
“I’m sorry!” Link said, keeping his distance out of swatting range.
Robbie swatted at the air, grumbling again.
Looking over at Link, all Purah could do was grin. “What’cha get into this time, Linky?” she asked.
He crossed his arms, face flushed with embarrassment.
“Journals I never said he could read!” Robbie answered, getting another laugh from Purah.
“How was I supposed to distinguish that from all your other mess of papers that you said I could?” Link asked.
The look Robbie shot her was that of, ‘Can you believe this guy?’
She shook her head. “Now he’s done it to both of us…”
Robbie continued to fuss at Link, all the way until Jerren and Zelda came to his rescue, dragging him along on their trip to Skull Lake to further investigate the shrine that was there.
Given it had been over 100 years since they last saw one another, Purah opted to stay behind with Robbie to continue catching up.
For the both of them, seeing one another after so long was...odd, at best; but in the same breath, odd always accompanied their relationship in some way, pre-calamity and post-calamity, so it wasn’t too hard to find a rhythm with one another again.
On Purah’s end, it was odd seeing Robbie as he was now. As a little old man, with a wife and a kid. (Never mind the part where his wife had been her assistant at one time)
For Robbie, even though he was fully aware of her experiment that had led to her physically reverting to a child, nothing could have prepared him to see her looking almost exactly as she did the day they last saw one another, the only key difference being a lack of dye in her hair and on her nails.
“What was he even getting into, anyway?” Purah asked, setting her cup of tea on the table separating them.
Unrolling the notebook, he leaned forward to place them down, angled to where she could read the first page -an invitation to continue reading if she wanted. “Just an old journal detailing coming out here and whatnot. My fault for having it out, I guess.”
Waiting for him to lean back, she looked down at it. “Can I?” she asked.
He nodded. “Go ahead. Nothing good in there, anyways. Just a lot of guilt,” he said, tugging at her heart.
She knew the feeling all too well. Far too many of her early journals were just detailed rants about the guilt she felt about not having done enough to stop the calamity.
As she began to read the first few pages, a smile tugged at her lips. His writing always tended to be more...poetic. Writing tended to be the only place he ever properly gathered his thoughts, whereas when speaking he could easily get off on one tangent, only to go down six other tangents before finally getting to the point.
It was one of many things that helped them get along, seeing as she was no better in the manner.
“Pushy? Me a pushy woman?” She asked, her grin evident in her tone.
He crossed his arms, returning the grin. “Don’t even pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said.
She rolled her eyes in a playful manner. “I have never been pushy a day in my life. Especially not when it came to you,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Pushiest damn woman I’ve ever worked with,” he said.
When she looked up at him over the notebook, it occurred to him that, a lifetime ago, the look would have been more than enough to drive him mad in only the best kind of way. In only the way Purah ever did.
“Oh, please, you liked it. You wouldn’t have rolled over so easily if you didn’t. Mister Rebel Without A Cause only ever let me push him around,” she added.
“You and now my wife, apparently,” he said, thinking nothing of the comment.
Purah hesitated, re-reading the same line she had been on again. “That’s because I trained her first,” she said.
She re-read the line again, still not absorbing any of the words, too suddenly consumed with the thought of her oldest partner marrying and having a child with her old assistant. An assistant who was fifty years younger than the both of them.
If there was one major drawback of suddenly being so much younger, physically, it was that her emotions had distinctly become harder to control again. All the experience from her lifetime wasn’t enough when faced with a frontal lobe that wasn’t fully developed again.
A frontal lobe that only wanted to scream about how wrong all of it was. A frontal lobe that was competing with the knowledge that the calamity had forced people into odd situations, good, bad, and indifferent.
Robbie and Jerren were merely a product of the calamity; two people making the best of a bad situation neither had any control over and--
She re-read the line for a third time, finally registering a few words.
Though, it was thanks to her third re-read that she realized something: this wasn’t Robbie’s writing.
At least, it wasn’t his writing from when it would have been written.
Despite his hasty nature, his handwriting had always been immaculate. Neat, flowing letters, always in a perfect line even without some sort of paper line to guide him.
This handwriting was...scratchier. Some things didn’t connect the way they would have in the past. It wasn’t like his current handwriting, but it was better…
As she turned the page to continue reading, she hesitated.
Up to that point, she knew his account wasn’t entirely accurate, but had chalked it up to emotions getting in the way.
The way he described their parting, however, was an outright lie.
“Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice that Dr. Purah had slipped away. I knew Hateno Village wasn't much farther along the road, and that the Calamity had barely touched that area... So I felt safe letting her continue on her own. We parted ways without even saying good-bye, I suppose. Stirring myself back to action, I set out on my own journey back to Kakariko Village.”
Closing the notebook over her finger, she looked up at Robbie. “You and I both know that’s not how we parted,” she said, keeping her voice down, as though there was even anybody to overhear.
He looked away, unable to come up with a response.
“I might have skipped over some details, but I at least implied what happened,” she continued, feeling a distinct ache in her chest, cursing her young body. She had sworn a long time ago she had put all those feelings to rest.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he carefully looked back up at her. “You know I very well couldn't have written out every little detail like some trashy novel-”
“Like I said, I at least implied…” she defended.
Though, there had been a journal, long ago, right after she set up in Hateno, where she detailed everything. From everything the two of them had done, to every emotion she had forced herself to hold back from saying.
The guilt she felt from burning it in the ancient furnace nagged at her now and then.
“Don’t know why I’m trying to keep secrets after 100 years.” He adjusted himself to be more comfortable in his chair. “That’s an amended version, Cherry.”
From the other room, she just barely heard the Ancient Oven stir to life, a low grinding sound as it moved around.
Despite herself, she felt a shiver run up her spine. It had been a long time since she last heard that nickname. A nickname he had given her after she first put the red streak in her hair. A nickname she only allowed him to use.
A nickname she realized he had omitted from the journal -something he would have never done in the past.
She leaned forward again to put the notebook back in its place, her desire to read any more thoroughly quashed. “You never told Jerren about us, did you?” she asked.
“No, but in my defense, you never did, either,” he said.
“No, but I didn’t knock her up and marry her, did I?” she asked, not holding back any of the bite.
He seemed to flinch at her words.
Over 100 years later, and she could still get a rise out of him; always knowing just how to get under his skin.
And like 100 years ago, no matter how much he wanted to fight back, he rolled over.
“Jerren wasn’t even born by the time you and I had to part ways. There wasn’t a point in bringing it up,” he said.
She’d rather he just punch her in the gut.
She wanted to fight back. To yell. To lay into him for making her think that what they had never actually meant anything.
For the life of her, she couldn’t. No words would come out.
Robbie breathed a laugh. “I know that look, Cherry.” She wanted to tell him to drop the nickname. “Whatever you’re overthinking, don’t overthink it.”
She rolled her eyes, pushing herself back into her chair. “Easy for you to say. You’ve got an old man's brain! I’m over here stuck with my dumb twenty-something brain that is determined to bring up every dumb emotion I swore up and down I had buried!”
He was silent for an uncomfortably long time.
Staring at the fire crackling away in the fireplace, she nearly jumped when he said her name.
“Humor me. Come with me a minute,” he said, sliding off his chair.
She said nothing, but stood to follow him.
He led them back into the main room, where the Ancient Oven turned to greet them, their weird voice tone still grating to Purah’s ears.
“Greetings, Dr. Robbie and FamiliarNameMissing,” they said.
Robbie chuckled, regarding the machine with a look that was probably uncomfortably soft for just about anyone else. Purah, however, remembered the look well. He had always been attached to the guardians they had drug into the Royal Research Lab, giving each of them individual names.
At the time, she pretended to think it was stupid, but, secretly, she had known all the names he had given them.
“My pride and joy, the Ancient Oven. Few things I love more in life,” he said.
She breathed a laugh, uncrossing her arms.
“Jerren, though...hates it,” he continued, getting another laugh from Purah.
“Kinda figured that. The way the poor thing sprung to life after Link finally replaced the blue flame told me it hadn’t been on for a while,” she said.
It had been rather sweet; Link not even needing to be asked to do it. The second they arrived, he saw that the outside furnace wasn’t lit, and headed off without prompt. The personality adjustment was still new to everyone, but he still had his core, endearing qualities.
“Ancient Oven wasn’t her original name,” Robbie continued. “And well...I suppose you deserve the truth.”
The machine looked between the both of them, Purah now regarding her...differently.
“Ancient Oven, what’s your name?” he asked.
She focused on him. “My name is simply Ancient Oven,” she responded in her odd cadence.
He shook his head. “What’s your real name? The name I gave you?” he clarified.
She hummed for a second, a slow grind of her gears. “My name is Cherry.”
There had been considerable heat emitted from the machine before, but Purah was positive the heat she was now feeling was from her own flush.
“Why are you named that?” Robbie asked.
“I am named after the first woman you ever loved...” The machine almost seemed to hesitate.
Maybe it was a part of her programing to acknowledge everyone within her vicinity while talking.
Maybe it was pure happenstance.
Maybe the machine somehow knew.
“Cherry,” she concluded, looking straight at Purah.
If she was flushed before, she was having a full-on hot flash now.
“Don’t misunderstand me. I love Jerren dearly. I love the son she gave me more than life itself...but there will always be a part of me that belongs to you.”
Run.
She wanted to run.
She wasn’t sure what was making it so hard to breathe. The heat from Cherry, her own flush, or the knowledge that she could say the very same to him.
She wanted to cry.
“I’m sorry-- I shouldn't be here,” she said, turning on her heel to leave.
“Purah-”
“No, no- I shouldn't be here. This was stupid- I’m so fucking stupid-- I knew coming here would do this! I knew seeing you would do this,” she said, ranting her way to the door. She didn’t even bother going back for her coat, or anything else she didn’t have on her person. Zelda and Link could grab it for all she cared. She needed to get out.
“Purah, please,” he pleaded, following her to the door.
The midday air outside was far cooler thanks to the constant breeze coming off the ocean.
She looked around, searching for Mule among the horses in the nearby holding pen.
“Maybe I should have left without saying goodbye! I knew it then-- I should have made you hate me! Getting you to hate me- I should have. I should have done it.” She nearly tripped down the stairs, barely catching herself in time.
“You know damn well I could never hate you. I only ever lo-”
She instantly reared on him, talking over him so she didn’t have to hear that word. “Don’t! Don’t say it! Don’t you fucking say it!” she yelled.
Words that were all too familiar.
Words she said before.
Her eyes began to sting as she fought back tears. “I don’t care if you don’t feel it now, but don’t you dare tell me you felt it then!”
He waved his hands in exasperation. “Why? What is so damn bad about hearing me tell you how I felt?” he asked.
“Because you just don’t get it! You don’t get how pathetic I feel because I never got over you! I never moved on! I promised you I wouldn’t let you hold me back, but I lied to both of us! For over 100 years, I never moved on! I’m pathetic!” she yelled.
Only the wind dared to break the silence that followed. A soft rustle of the spring leaves. A sound far softer than her confession.
It took everything in her to not crumble in on herself. “You just don’t get it, Robbie. Maybe it was easier for you to move on, but I just...I never could.”
He grabbed a hold of the railing, but made no motion towards her. He only looked pained. “I don’t know what to say here, Purah. Nothing I can think of will make you feel better.”
#loz#tloz#hwaoc#botw#purobbie#fanfics#my fics#wip#can u believe there's gonna be MORE AFTER THIS#AND ALTERNATE ENDINGS????#it's wednesday somewhere#wip wednesday#i'll post another wip tomorrow PROPERLY but i just CANT resist sharing this
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Hiya molls! I realized in the tags of my reblog of in the in between (omg I never remember fic titles but I KNEW that one wow it's cuz I love that title) ANYWAYS It occurred to me that I haven't publicly declared my love for you or cyberbullied you in a while. So here I am!!! I have a couple of things. Number one is that I bought a water bottle today that is The most violently vibrant shade of violet and it makes me think of you. Number two is that I think in the in between felt so real precisely because it had no plot the way most other fics do; real life doesn't have arc plots. Real life is linear. Outta sight, outta mind. And that's what you wrote so perfectly. Lately I've been thinking about the existence of other timelines where I've probably said batshit things in public and been all around more unhinged. Is it possible for me to have gotten where I am, which is where I want to be (I think) and have been a little crazier? I'll never know. Have you ever felt like you're right where you're supposed to be?
ahhhh adri @cringeycal i have missed getting asks like this from you in the middle of the night. i know you've been very busy with stars and a normal sleep schedule so u know...sometimes you have to sacrifice anon asks.
when i first read about your violently violet (nail polish name) water bottle i interpreted it as the water being violet and i had a lot of questions, but now that i've sorted it out i'm very glad you think of me every time you hydrate.
i'm very happy you like the title of in the in between bc i'm terrible with titles. that doc had so many working titles and none of them felt right. that's normal, though, i almost never feel like my fic titles are right and i just have to live with it. but then i was listening to wfttwtaf for approximately the millionth time and that little tidbit of baby blue jumped out at me. i'll pass your compliments along to luke; i'm sure he'll appreciate it since he knows you're a hard sell.
you are a very perceptive person so it is no great surprise that you make a fantastic point about plot. real life doesn't have a plot. stuff happens, and it's never really clear exactly where it starts and ends; sometimes it never does. there's usually no grand climax or resolution, and if there is, you only really realize it in hindsight, not in the moment.
this is probably one of several reasons that as both a consumer and a creator i tend to favor characters and relationships in stories over plot, but i have never really thought about it so directly in this specific way before, so thank you for that.
interesting thoughts on alternate realities and it's like, way too early for me to make sense on the topic, but yeah it's sort of crazy to think about. we've all had these moments where we really WANT to do or say something but we don't for one reason or another, and how might things be different if you'd done the thing?
you probably would've either been emboldened to do the thing (or other similar things) again, or had a bad enough consequence that you never wanted to try anything like it again out of anxiety or fear. and in either case, that winds up creating a different version of you than the one that actually exists, just based on that outcome! sort of insane.
but i like this framing of it as being right where you're supposed to be. because even though i clearly have things i could work on as a human, there are definitely times i think...wow, life is very strange and i never would have guessed i'd be in this specific situation but it's exactly as it should be.
a relevant example: answering this ask from you.
a year ago i was here, reblogging stuff quietly and not interacting with anyone, only starting to consider the possibility of maybe writing a fic, obsessing over fics from people like meg and jess and not having anyone to talk to about any of it.
but look at how things are different now! jess actively bullies me! i've met people like you who i love and can talk to about the thing i love and more! the fact that i've had meg to talk to these past couple of months with all the luke solo stuff is all the evidence i need that i'm right where i'm supposed to be at least in one specific way.
as i say that i realize i sound absolutely unhinged framing, like, big life questions around a blonde guy with an album but i figure it all counts in one way or another. because even if i weren't here i'd still be insane about it, now i just get to be insane with other people.
well that was certainly a way to start the day.
i love you adri thank you for forcing me to address existential questions at 7am. :wrymouth:
#ask#sucking chalk#abolish plots 2021#this is all over the place i'm sorry#i love you#and also meg and jess if you see this i love you too#and more of you as well just right in this moment there's like a trifecta emerging around this specific question
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i love ur stuff!!! do u think u could write something like diego and the reader not liking eachother (maybe the reader is friends with klaus or allison or someone) and then slowly they begin to like eachother ??? :0
A/N: Thank you so much for the sweet message Nonny ☺ it was a lovely prompt, and I hope you enjoy.
Word Count: 2060
Content Warning: mild swearing
“Hey Y/N, why don’t you like Diego?” Klaus asked one evening as the two of you lounged on your couch watching Allison’s latest red carpet event.
“Is that a serious question?” you counter with a raised eyebrow, popping another piece of popcorn in your mouth.
“Yeah. I mean, you get along with everyone else, literally. But not Diego.”
“I don’t get along with everyone else. And I just…think he’s jerk.”
“He is. But so’s Luther and you like him fine.”
You rolled your eyes. “Look, I don’t know how to explain it. I just, every time I talk to your brother I get filled with this overwhelming desire to hit something.”
Klaus started laughing and you raised an eyebrow questioningly. He just shook his head, still laughing. However, he dropped the subject after that and you decided not to push him on what might have been so funny.
~
“You’re welcome,” he said with a smirk, still holding onto your arm.
“Oh don’t do that, Diego,” you snapped. “Don’t act like you did me some favor and I should be grateful.”
“I just saved your life, Y/N.”
“It was a guy on a bike; I think I would have been fine. I can take care of myself.” You folded your arms over your chest, pulling out of his grasp in the process. “What are you even doing here?”
He shrugged. “Out for a walk.”
“Really? In this part of town nowhere near anything you usually have to do with?”
He shrugged. “It was a long walk.”
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m outta here.”
“Not gonna offer to buy me dinner for saving your life?” he called after you as you started to walk away.
“In your dreams Hargreeves,” you shot back.
~
The next time you saw Diego, you had called him to meet you and he seemed quite surprised when he showed up to the park.
“What’s going on, Y/N? No offense, but you were the last person I was expecting to hear from,” he asked, trying to hide the fact that concern had made him run most of the way there.
“It’s Klaus. He hasn’t been by in a while and he missed our weekly breakfasts. He never does that, especially since I pay. So I’m worried and…I couldn’t think of anyone else who might be able to help. Sorry to bother you.” You shifted uncomfortably and bit your lip, worried that you had annoyed him and that he would refuse to help.
“Shit,” he sighed, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. “Alright, I’ll help you look for him. But the kind of places he hangs out…we probably shouldn’t split up, even if it would let us cover more ground.”
“That’s kind of what I was thinking too. I figured I should call someone in for backup.” You shrugged and forced a smile.
The two of you walked in silence for a while, figuring that you would be more likely to actually spot him if you moved on foot than by car, even if it would take you more time. And, if you were being honest, you didn’t mind the amount of time. You found that when you weren’t actively fighting, you appreciated the presence of the other Hargreeves. You certainly felt safe with him beside you, between the knives and the subtle strength that you could see in his stance and the muscles that his clothing clung to.
“Is there something going on between you and Klaus?” he asked suddenly after a while of quiet.
“What? No. He’s my best friend. I don’t…I don’t see him like that.”
He gave you a look that suggested he didn’t quite believe you.
“I’m serious. I love him sure, but the same way I love my baby sister. I want the world for him and would do anything for him but…romantically…blegh.” You scrunched up your face in disgust at the thought and the man beside you laughed.
“So if not my brother…is there someone special?”
You fell silent, studying Diego through the corner of your eye. Part of you itched to snap that it was none of his business. The other part of you, quite rebelliously, admired the slope of his shoulders beneath his black sweater and the cut of his jaw, how the long scar above his ear interrupted his smooth, almost militaristic appearance and made him more attractive, more dangerous looking.
“No,” you said, after maybe too long of silently enjoying the view of him. “No one’s seemed worth my time.”
“You really think highly of yourself don’t you?” he laughed.
“What?”
“’No one’s seemed worth my time,’” he quoted back, “sounds awfully pretentious.”
You felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “No…I just meant that I’ve dated quite a few duds in the past, and I don’t see the point in wasting my time. If I don’t feel a connection with the person before we go out…” you shrugged. “Maybe it’s high maintenance, but I’d rather be that than miserable.”
He nodded and stayed silent. A quick glance over at him showed that he was lost in thought.
As the two of you patrolled, looking for any sign of Klaus, you found yourself wondering more and more about the mysterious “Number Two.” But after several hours, even though you were enjoying your, mostly silent, time together, you were growing frustrated.
“This is hopeless,” you groaned. “It’s going to take the two of us days to canvass the whole city, and if he’s been checked in somewhere, we still won’t find him.”
“You’re probably right, Y/N,” Diego said with a nod. “Let’s grab some lunch and then we can start—”
“Calling the usual rehab centers,” you finished at the same time as him. “Sounds like an excellent plan.”
He smiled softly at you and reached out, as if offering you his hand to hold before quickly retreating and shoving them into his pockets.
“Do you like Greek? I know a great Greek diner nearby,” he offered.
~
After that day, you found yourself spending more time with Diego, realizing your initial distaste was misguided, a snap judgement that he really didn’t deserve. One afternoon, Klaus caught you chatting with his brother on the phone, he had called to invite you to one of his boxing matches, and twirling the cord between your fingers as you did.
“Oh. My. God.” he cried out, slapping his hands to either side of his face with exaggerated shock. “You liiiike him.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, punching him lightly, a hot blush creeping across your face at the thought of Diego potentially hearing.
“What was that?” he asked, voice tinny through the receiver.
“Nothing, just your idiot brother.”
You heard him chuckled. “I see. Well, anyway, the gym is kinda out of the way so it can be hard to find, so how about I meet you at your place and we can walk there together?”
“You don’t have to do that Diego.”
“But maybe I want to?”
“O-oh,” you stammered, thrown by the warmth in his voice. “Well, in that case, that sounds nice.”
“Good. It’s a date.”
“A date?” you raised your eyebrow even though he couldn’t see it and tried your best to ignore Klaus’s flailing and pumping his fist excitedly in the air.
“Yeah, a date. I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you later, Y/N.”
“Okay, see you later Diego.”
You were smiling when you hung up the phone, and the warmth in your chest made you feel like you were floating. So much so that you were completely compliant to Klaus dragging you through the apartment the two of you sort of shared, insistent on picking out the “perfect outfit” for you to “stun his brother so hard he drops in shock and awe.”
~
The night of the date, you fidgeted nervously on your couch, bouncing your leg and chewing on the corner of your thumbnail, waiting for Diego to get there. A thousand thoughts a minute ran through your mind and you stomach twisted itself in knots. You tried to tell yourself you were being ridiculous, the two of you had become friends over the past several weeks, and there was no reason to think this evening was going to be any different, just because Diego had said it was going to be a date.
You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear the buzzer or notice Klaus rushing to greet his brother until Diego stood in the doorway, trying to get around his brother to say hello.
“If you ever hurt her Diego,” Klaus said sternly, poking an index finger against his brother’s chest, blocking the short hallway of your apartment.
Diego raised an eyebrow as if challenging whether Klaus was actually trying to threaten him.
“If you ever hurt her, my beloved brother or not, I will eat your shoelaces,” Klaus continued, undaunted, eyes narrowed and face the picture of seriousness.
“What?”
“Every single shoelace. Slurp ‘em up like spaghetti. Inconvenient as hell.”
“Klaus, you are my very best friend and I love you,” you interrupted, rising to go and stand by the two, equally unable to get Klaus out from between. “But what the fuck? Please don’t eat shoelaces in my defense. God that is the weirdest sentence I’ve ever said…”
“Yeah, and we can’t afford to take to the vet and have them removed when they tangle around your intestines,” Diego added, rolling his eyes. “We’ll have to just put you down.”
“Unsettling and inconveniencing my family and dying? Best day ever!” Klaus gave a little clap and jump of joy, which quickly morphed into an apologetic look when he glanced over his shoulder and saw your glare.
“Well, I’ll get out of your way. You two crazy kids have fun now,” he said cheerfully, as if the previous conversation hadn’t happened. “Don’t do anything I would do!”
You rolled your eyes as he sidled past back to the living room, giving you an affectionate pat on the shoulder as he did.
Diego felt his jaw drop as he took in your outfit. It wasn’t quite your usual style, but was enough like you to not feel like you were trying so hard. And you looked stunning in it.
“Wow,” he eventually breathed, causing you to chuckle and rub the back of your neck nervously. “You look…I don’t know if I’m going to be able to focus on the fight with you looking like that.”
“It was Klaus’s idea,” you mumbled. “I know it’s a bit much…”
“No!” he assured, a little too quickly. “It’s great…you look great.”
You shot him a slightly flirtatious smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” You let your eyes rove over his tight-fitted jeans and Henley, in black of course.
“C-c-can I kiss you?” he stammered, stepping closer. “For luck?”
You responded by snaking your arms around his neck and leaning in to press your lips to his. He groaned into the kiss, hands coming to rest on your hips, fingers digging into your sides and pulling you closer. Gently, he backed you up the few steps necessary to pin you against your wall, running his tongue over your lower lip at the same time. You let out a little gasp as you bumped into the plaster and he took the opportunity to slip in and begin exploring your mouth.
Grasping his hair in your fist, you eventually pulled him away from you to drink deeply of the air, trying to ignore the wave of desire that shot through you when the action made him moan hungrily.
“We should stop,” you panted.
“Why?” he responded, equally out of breath and fighting your grip to kiss the side of your neck.
“You have a match to get to. Wouldn’t this be so much better as a reward for winning it?” You teased lightly. “And somewhere your brother wasn’t…?”
He laughed. “You have a point there. I want you all to myself.”
“Well then get a move on. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
He threaded his fingers through yours as he led you through the door.
“Don’t wait up!” you called back over your shoulder to Klaus, making Diego groan once more and you smirked. Tonight was shaping up to be even better than you could have hoped.
#something of an abrupt ending but I got stuck and gave up#Diego Hargreeves x Reader#featuring Klaus Hargreeves#because he's too much fun not to include lol#Diego Hargreeves#reader-insert#The Umbrella Academy#TUA#a little light enemies-to-lovers?
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