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itsuki-minamy · 1 year

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"AYAKA – SIDE STORIES 01": BROTHERS

TRANSLATION: NARU-KUN

* List of Chapters

BROTHERS 01: YANAGI YUKITO & KURAMA HARUAKI

From Yukito Yanagi's experience, there were quite a few people who had the fixed idea that "raising children in an orphanage is a pitiful existence".

In particular, the older you get, the more likely this is to happen. The reason why he dare not call it prejudice is that there is sympathy and concern, and there is not much discrimination or condescending sentiments.

It's a little different if you just say it's an admission based on precise facts.

Yukito, who left the island where he was born and raised as a child and lived in an orphanage, realized early on in his life that perfect happiness is not often found in this world. At the same time, he naturally came to understand that there was no such thing as pure unhappiness.

The orphanage was a mixture of happiness and unhappiness.

Of course, the environment in which the enrolled children were born and raised is quite harsh compared to general world standards.

Father abuse. Disappearance due to financial bankruptcy of the parents. Abandonment of the mother. Accidental death of all relatives who only helped.

The children who came under such circumstances have wounds in their hearts that will never heal.

A slightly older boy at the same institution had a habit of urinating on the bed even when he became a high school student. He had an older sister who never made eye contact with him. Some of them left the institution before graduating from high school because their violent behavior towards others was notorious.

They were all carefree to a greater or lesser degree, but that does not mean that they were depressed or lamented by their misfortunes.

They were all working hard to overcome the handicap of the absence of family and live a full life according to their age.

Although commonly misunderstood, children in institutions are guaranteed a certain degree of financial freedom.

In addition to his monthly pocket money, he received a small gift at Christmas and, although it was not expensive, he was given a New Year's gift at the beginning of the year.

Also, the use of pocket money was basically voluntary for the kids, unless it was for some very odd purpose, and they were free to save it up and buy slightly expensive items like gaming hardware.

In the shared space of the institution where Yukito was, there was a fairly comprehensive collection of the latest game consoles, software, manga, etc. purchased by the children who were enrolled with his pocket money.

Yukito once invited a classmate to the institution where he lived, but the boy...

"Well, I have lots of toys to play with."

He had mixed feelings when he heard him mutter with envy.

From Yukito's point of view, more than any toy, he would be happier to go home and spend time with his family at night. He remembers feeling vague and almost frustrated, and when he consulted the most trusted Yu-nii-chan in the facility…

"But you know, Yukito."

Brother Yu twisted his body from his study desk, turned around and said in a soft voice.

"Maybe there are childlike circumstances that Yukito doesn't know about. Just because you have your own home doesn't necessarily mean it will lead to happiness."

Yu-nii-chan, who looked intellectual with his silver-rimmed glasses, was a second-year high school student. He was the facilitator for the children at the facility.

"We often tend to think that we are the only unlucky people in the world. You have to be very careful there."

It's not like he was 100% convinced by what he said, but because it was Yu-nii-chan, whom he respected, who reprimanded him, Yukito was able to accept the feelings he had at the time.

And he was shocked that Yu-nii-chan was an adult after all. When he grew up, he honestly wanted to be like Yu.

However, after that, he naturally distanced himself from that classmate. He doesn't even remember his name now.

Yukito Yanagi lifted his upper body from the bed and stretched once. He stood up, rubbed his eyes, opened the blinds and looked outside to see a cloudless blue sky.

It hasn't been that many days since he came to the Ayaka Islands, but most of the time it was clear and sunny like this. He still doesn't understand many things, but he has no doubt that this is a place where the weather is nice.

Normally, he would have been able to wake up in a good mood, but the noise in the middle of the night woke him up, so he couldn't deny that he was lacking sleep. But when he looked at the clock on the table next to his bed, it was already eight.

Unlike when he was at the facility, he didn't have a set time to wake up, but the habits he had cultivated over the years were firmly ingrained in Yukito.

Besides, he didn't want his roommate, Momoko Amamiya, to think of him as spoiled.

He doesn't care about the other roommate.

After getting dressed, when he went out into the hallway, another roommate besides Momoko Amamiya, who was the cause of Yukito's lack of sleep, was lying on his stomach.

Sagawa Jingi.

He was the one who invited Yukito to this mysterious island, and now he is Yukito's teacher. Just in case. Yukito squatted down with half-hearted eyes and silently looked up at the strange art object, which didn't even move. This teacher went out alone at night, drank a lot and then went back to drinking with his bad friends. He woke him up to the sound of them making a lot of noise.

The others seem to be on their way home at dawn.

Currently, only one person, Jingi, is lying on his back in the hallway in a strange posture with only his right hand stretched out.

(Are you breathing?)

As expected, he was a bit worried and looked at his face.

(You're not dead, are you?)

At that moment, Jingi's arm trembled. Yukito was startled, Jingi looked up slightly.

"W-Water..."

He spoke as a person lost in the desert. Yukito sighed, went to the first floor sink, filled a suitable glass with water, and headed back upstairs to Jingi.

He dared to put the glass at a distance that his hand might or might not reach. Squatting down and looking at the strange insect with observant eyes, Jingi managed to grab the glass, his fingertips trembled and his arms stretched out as hard as he could.

Purupuru.

His fingers moved at different angles.

Jingi's face changed seven times with a desperate expression. Eventually, however, he wore himself out and returned to the same position.

"Gu~"

After a while, a nice snore came out of his mouth. Yukito sighed and stood up.

He thought from the bottom of his heart that he would never want to become that old.

On his way from the second floor to the first floor, he could already smell the fragrant smell that stimulated his appetite. He could also hear the sizzling sound of something getting cold.

Yukito headed for the kitchen, the source of the sound and smell. The door was open, so he looked inside.

Momoko Amamiya was cooking on a frying pan as she softly sang.

She moved her shoulders from left to right for a while, and when she finished singing...

"And in the potato~♪"

As she made the comment, she scraped up the contents of the pan with a spatula and poured it into the blue bowl.

She always seemed to be smiling happily, but she was in a particularly good mood this morning. Even when Jingi came home in the middle of the night and made a fuss, she didn't seem to wake up, so he guessed that she's the type of person who can sleep soundly once she goes to bed.

It was a bit awkward to watch in silence, so when he tried to talk to her...

"Uh..."

Momoko turned around and said:

"Oh, good morning, Yukito-kun."

She said the morning greeting. Her voice was slightly inverted. She must have been embarrassed that she sang without realizing Yukito was there, and she tilted her head awkwardly.

"Oh, good morning."

He wanted to insist that he wasn't spying on her, but he didn't have a good way to convey it.

He breakfasts at the dining room table.

All of Momoko's home-cooked meals gleamed in the soft morning light. Tofu and Iwanori seaweed (harvested on the island), miso soup, freshly cooked rice, perfectly cooked salmon fillets, and potato salad with sautéed bacon and onions (excellent!)

Not only did it look great, it tasted great, but he couldn't eat in peace.

The reason was simple. The awkward atmosphere that had been created between Momoko and Yukito had continued for a long time, and he couldn't really enjoy breakfast. Yukito was wondering how Momoko was doing, and Momoko was also curious about Yukito.

"Ah, the rice is very delicious."

Like Yukito, she thought that she was telling her true feelings, but somehow her voice sounded like she took it for granted.

Momoko too.

"Oh, thank you."

Although she looked happy, she couldn't hide the "Did I make you worry about me?" expression.

Yukito is not good at interacting with people. It is a so-called communication disorder. So it was common for institutions and schools to have this type of situation.

It was the first time Momoko and Yukito were so awkward, so he was confused. Then he suddenly realized the reason.

At the same time, he clicked his tongue in his heart.

(Because Jingi-san isn't here.)

He didn't want to admit it, but if Jingi was there, he would talk to her, including things she didn't need, so there was a side of him that had a gap.

It hasn't been that long since he came to the island, so he hasn't had many chances to come face to face with Momoko.

(What should I do?)

He thought of ten patterns of conversation clippings in his mind. As a result of the examination, four of them were caught up in the following conversation, two were excessive self-talk, the other three were somewhat inappropriate topics to talk about in the morning, and the last one was nonsense.

As a result, he chose to remain silent. Momoko, on the other hand, seemed to still be trying to make conversation with herself.

But then he said...

"Mo-, Momoko-san, I, my head, want..."

As he held out his hand in front of her, Jingi stumbled into the dining room like a zombie, plopped down on his own chair and fell forward in disappointment.

"Jingi-chan! Wait a second? Are you alright?"

Momoko ran to him and began to take care of him.

"I'm going to get you water and medicinal herbs right now, okay? Oh, I told you not to drink too much!"

It was only a little, but he could see the sense of relief that she was able to finish the exchange with Yukito.

No.

It could just be Yukito's jealousy and preconceptions.

He had just finished eating, so...

"Thanks for the food."

He curtsied politely and tried to take the plates to the kitchen. He tried to leave that place.

"Uh..."

Momoko looked at Yukito. After...

"...Yukito-kun. What do you want for lunch?"

That was what he heard.

Yukito replied.

"Anything will be fine."

He thought it was cutting speech.

He regretted his attitude towards the person he was indebted to, but Yukito had some reason to behave that way.

For some reason, Momoko always asks what he wants to eat after every meal.

At first, he was frustrated and frantically searched for the answer, but gradually it became a nuisance. Yukito is not a picky eater. None of the children in the institution complained about the food they were served.

That was why he was grateful to eat whatever Momoko cooked for him.

Being too careful is really painful.

(I wonder if I'm not good "here" too.)

Suddenly, negative emotions arose that made him sick.

At that moment, a strange gelatinous thing crossed in front of him.

Yukito was startled for a moment and then immediately realized it.

(Mitama?)

There are many strange things on the Ayakashima Islands that are not found on the mainland, and this Mitama is one of them.

The size of a fist. It's just faint, but it looks like it's glowing. Also, Yukito could hear them muttering something under their breath.

The Mitama shifted while rolling in the air. Yukito unconsciously chased after the Mitama. The Mitama finally entered the living room as he made a playful little noise.

Yukito followed slowly, making sure not to catch up with the Mitama. Before long, the Mitama crossed the room and slowly began to float towards the sky through the open window.

Yukito went to the window frame and opened it. With the clear sky in the background, the Mitama became smaller and smaller.

When he looked closely, there were many other Mitama floating and they were about to flow in the same direction.

(There is something there?)

However, he didn't have the curiosity or the perseverance to go out of his way to chase after it. He tried to leave the room, but somehow he got curious and looked towards the Buddhist altar where the portrait of his father was placed. He hesitated for a moment about what he should do, but for the moment, he nodded towards the picture of his father, who had a very bright face.

He only looked at his father's face.

He couldn't remember anything in particular.

It was the same for this family, Momoko and Jingi. Although he was a child, he should have lived with everyone for a considerable period of time, but he did not feel any special emotions.

To be more precise, he only remembers a little bit, he has a memory like that, but it doesn't connect with intense emotions.

Maybe he is a colder person than he thought.

It was the same when he saw his father's portrait placed on the Buddhist altar. Exceptionally sad and nostalgic. He couldn't help but feel that this house is where he truly belonged. He remembered feeling uncomfortable somewhere like when he was on the premises.

Even if he suddenly went to another place like when he was brought to that island, he wouldn't feel so much pain.

Yukito let out a small sigh and left the room.

He thought from the bottom of his heart that he is not good at interacting with people, but he was too easily influenced by people.

Or maybe it's because he's not good at interacting with people.

Either way, it's easy to get carried away. Yukito thought idly as he soaked in the hot water of the public bath.

It was the first time in his life that he entered a public bath in broad daylight. The exterior and interior of the building were old, but the bathroom was beautifully polished and filled with a refreshing clean feeling.

Brilliant sunlight streamed in through a large skylight, illuminating the mural of cherry blossoms.

He let out a sigh of relief. So...

"What's wrong? You're so old even though you're a kid."

Jingi Sagawa, who started to enter the bathtub with his feet up, called out to him with a smile. And when he plunged into the milky white water up to his shoulders...

"Haa, it's hot, it's hot. Hot water is good. My lifespan is really getting longer~"

He walked past him and said words that sounded like an old man.

"......"

Yukito silently stared at the person who had half-heartedly put him into that public bath. Jingi, who noticed that look, pouted his lips.

"What? It can't be helped! The best thing for a hangover is to take a bath during the day."

"Then go alone! Don't involve me."

"Okay. There's no need to worry. You don't have anything to do, right?"

Jingi calmly stirred the hot water with his hands like water on a frog's face. Yukito was confused by those words. Indeed, Yukito, who is currently on spring break, has nothing in particular to do other than the training that Jingi has imposed on him as a connection to his veins.

"What is this?"

The voice that he tried to object to was weak.

To be honest, it is undeniable that he had nothing to do. Otherwise, no matter how forcefully he was invited, he probably wouldn't have followed.

(And I'm a bit uncomfortable with Momoko-san right now.)

If possible, he wanted to avoid a situation where Jingi would go out and be alone with Momoko at home. Jingi didn't care about Yukito's condition at all.

"This place is a natural hot spring. And yet, there aren't always many customers, so I wonder if the business is doing well."

He turned his neck a little. It's true that there were no other customers at the time, Yukito thought for a while and then said:

"No, I'm not particularly familiar with that either, but it's usually the public baths that get crowded, don't you think? But, it's past noon, right?"

"Oh, no, actually. After all, I basically just come here hungover."

Jingi laughed unapologetically. Yukito made a disgusted face.

"You're a really bad adult, aren't you?"

"Don't praise me like that, don't praise me."

"I'm not praising you!"

"Hahaha." Jingi turned and laughed. Yukito sighed. If you try to reason with this person, you will run out of physical strength. It may be fair to ignore it moderately.

At the moment, he is supposed to be a teacher.

At that moment, Yukito noticed that Jingi was looking at him with a different expression than before, so he cautiously asked.

"What?"

"Well, I brought you here, but are you okay with taking a bath with people?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"No, I thought a guy like you would absolutely hate these kinds of naked places."

"...Well, not bad at all."

Yukito looked away and answered, being careful not to be self-deprecating on purpose.

"Sometimes I can't say that because I grew up in an institution."

"......"

After being silent for a while...

"Momoko-san was worried about you. During breakfast today, she thought that she said something that offended you. You were in a bad mood at the end, weren't you?"

Yukito was surprised and turned his gaze to Jingi. He said slowly:

"Something happened?"

"......"

"Tell me if you don't mind. I am your teacher after all."

With his hands wet with hot water, Jingi stroked Yukito's head. The droplets traveled down Yukito's forehead and cheeks.

Yukito was a little annoyed by his behavior that seemed to be tolerant, but in reality he wasn't very sensitive, but he didn't take his hand away.

Maybe Jingi brought him here on purpose to make time for just the two of them.

"It's not an exaggeration to say that something happened."

After making that introduction, Yukito slowly spoke about his own feelings. Jingi listened quietly as he looked up at the ceiling.

"That's why I get to eat all the delicious dishes that Momoko-san makes. Even so, every time I'm asked what I want for the menu, I'm like…"

Yukito couldn't help but stammer at that. Jingi listened silently.

"Do you want to stop being treated like a customer all the time?"

Yukito was silent for a second, then nodded slightly. After giving a big yawn...

"Yes! In fact, I felt that way too. Momoko-san worries too much, right?"

Yukito once again shook his head weakly.

"But Momoko-san also has a reason for doing that. That person, above all, I feel sorry for you."

"Eh?"

Jingi smiled at Yukito.

"Although it was my master's last will, I sent you to the mainland alone when you were a little boy, and suddenly called you back, right? It's not like I, Haru-nii, or Inou-san don't have that kind of of feeling, but Momoko-san is the kindest."

"...That's right."

"I'm sure you had a proper life there, but I thought I could have taken it away from you."

Yukito sighed deeply.

It seems there are several things he didn't understand.

(Is that why you thought that I could spend a comfortable time on this island?)

Jingi said with a sensible face.

"Well, you should tell Momoko-san how you feel right now. If you can't do that, you're still a kid, right?"

He tried to admire Jingi for the first time, but...

"Eh?"

Jingi peered into the tub.

"Ahahaha, you are definitely still a child!"

He laughed so hard that he stopped. Yukito turned bright red and twisted his body to the side.

After leaving the public bath, Jingi had washed hair and a bright face.

"Well, I'm going to play with my friends again!"

He gestured with his finger and left. Yukito let out a sigh with a slight amount of admiration mixed with the great amazement.

(That person is living like a playboy in a period drama.)

Or a college student on a long vacation.

Yukito had no choice but to go home alone. He was a little nervous about seeing Momoko alone, but maybe he should tell her how he feels as soon as possible.

He is frustrating, but his advice never fails.

Momoko was making a big mistake.

(I was at that facility...)

At that moment, Yukito realized that he was near the irrigation canal that had been attacked by the Aramitama the other day. It seems that he took a slightly wrong direction while he was walking while he was thinking. He reflexively steeled himself.

He was afraid of meeting an Aramitama again, but he was more afraid of losing control.

But, there is no perfection.

No one can protect you or stop you.

Yukito quickly got out of the irrigation canal.

Before he knew it, he was in a place he had never seen before. He seemed like he was completely lost. In front of him, dense trees grew, and the path he had been walking up until now continued there.

He didn't remember going through a forest like that, so he had to turn around. When he was about to turn back...

"That is...?"

Yukito suddenly noticed that many Mitamas were floating around him, moving towards the forest in front of him.

Each of the Mitamas fluttered, moving gently up and down, and happily flowed into the forest like children riding in a flowing pool (that's what Yukito saw).

(Maybe...)

Yukito thought. The Mitama that he saw at home this morning may have also flown in this direction. Thinking about it, he began to wonder what was in store for him. Yukito made up his mind and followed the Mitama and the others into the depths of the forest.

At first, the path was quite paved, but the undergrowth gradually increased, and before he knew it, there were no clear tracks left. It wasn't that he couldn't walk or anything, but that a narrow path that could only be described as an animal trail stretched through the trees in a zigzag pattern.

At first, Yukito advanced timidly, looking back to keep track of the way he had come, but gradually he began to take a bolder and bolder step.

In the morning, the depression that he was feeling faded away as he progressed, and instead, a faint feeling of happiness and an uplifting feeling that made him want to ignore it gradually filled his heart. At first he thought it was the cool forest air that made him feel this way, but then he realized it.

(I see. I can sense the presence of a particularly strong lifeguard here on the island.)

Yukito knew that he had special senses that normal humans don't have. The sensor detected it.

(If I remember correctly, Jingi said that the lifeline flows underground on the island and vitality comes out of it...)

In Yukito's words, how would he describe it?

The density of life is dense.

The Mitamas, who were taught to filter out of the lifeline in the same way, increased in number more and more, and were circling around Yukito like a group of fireflies.

They were all fluffy, swaying and having fun.

Yukito felt a little uneasy that he wouldn't be able to go home if he didn't come back soon.

He doesn't know why, but that forest is full of life. He could feel the same kind of presence in some shrines and trees even in the city, but the level of concentration was completely different.

In the city, it's like a powdered soup diluted dozens of times, but here it's thick and strong like porridge boiled to mush.

And he feels so comfortable in that peculiar space that he felt a little bloated. To be more precise, within that feeling of joy, there is also the anxiety of opening doors that should not open in order.

He may not really be able to come back.

(By the way...)

Yukito remembered.

At that moment, he felt that kind of excitement and fear at the same time.

That happened on a trip he took with everyone at the facility. It was summer vacation. They stayed in a national lodge in the mountains, played table tennis and bathed in hot springs. There were staff at the facility, there were children of the same generation, and there was Yu-nii-chan, whom he adored.

The event occurred on the last day. When he was playing in the water in the river bed, he got into a fight with one of the children from the institution over a trivial matter. Yukito felt that he was being mean to him, but the other person probably didn't have much malice.

It was a common fight between the children.

Emotional shocks that inevitably occur in institutions with several children. A piece of everyday life that is insignificant. The only thing that was different from the norm was...

There was an uncontrollable creepy power latent within him. Before he knew it, the river water suddenly rose up and swallowed the other boy, who was in agony unable to even scream in the water.

Yukito, who was stunned, finally realized that the abnormal phenomenon was caused by him, and in overwhelming fear, he tried to free the boy.

Luckily in the midst of the misfortune, the column of water dispersed and the boy fell helpless to the surface of the water before he lost his life. For better or worse, it was a series of events that happened because the check on power wasn't working.

After that, a nightmarish time with no sense of reality passed. Ambulance with flashing red lights.

The police rushed. Adults coming and going. Children crying.

Yukito was questioned many times by the people around him about what had happened, but he was unable to answer any of the questions.

Partly because he was still in the lower grades of elementary school, he didn't fully understand what had happened in the first place.

And before he knew it, he was back at the institution. Yukito came to his senses and first tried to apologize to the other boy. Just to be sure, he underwent a full examination at the hospital, but no significant abnormalities were found and he heard he was resting in his room.

However, he was interrupted by a boy in the middle of the hall.

It was Yu-nii-chan.

Yu-nii-chan stopped Yukito and said:

"Yukito, you should stop."

"Uh, but..."

"Even if you go, it will have the opposite effect. That child..."

Yu-nii-chan hesitated for a moment.

"Now he's scared."

After a while, Yukito realized what Yu-nii-chan didn't say.

What is the child afraid of?

None other than Yukito Yanagi himself.

"......"

Yukito realized that tears were welling up at the corners of his eyes.

"Yu-nii-chan? Are you afraid of me, Yu-nii-chan?"

Yu-nii-chan slightly averted his gaze from him and then responded with a laugh.

"Haha. Yukito is Yukito. There is nothing to fear."

Yukito bit his lip and nodded as he thought.

Yu-nii-chan is an adult.

He is so good at lying that he cares about people.

After that, Yu-nii-chan and the people from the facility treated Yukito very well, looking fair. If the frightened children acted to drive Yukito out, he even liked it.

However, Yukito had already stopped opening his heart to those around him. If he disturbed his emotions, he might hurt someone important again. If the teacher in the facility or Yu-nii-chan were to suffer damage, he could never forgive himself this time.

And what was even scarier was...

(I feel comfortable with this flow of power. If I let my guard down, I feel like I'll be swallowed as is.)

The sensation was strange to him. The Mitama around him was constantly increasing and it was already like a great current. He had the feeling that the further he went, the closer he got to a place out of this world.

Momoko made a big mistake.

(At first, I didn't have a place to live on that institution. That's why I didn't resist coming to this island at all.)

No maybe...

In the first place, his own place may not be anywhere in human society. With a strange mix of frustration and joy, Yukito advanced further into the depths of the forest.

Somewhere in his heart, he vaguely thought that he might not come back.

(If that's the case, then that's fine.)

He wasn't weird or sad or scary.

And suddenly his vision widened. There was a gap between the trees, a small open space in the woods.

Yukito stiffened his body. It was not because of the impressive vitality, nor because of the countless Mitamas that continued to circle around the place with joy.

Because there was an unexpected client. Sitting quietly on the mat in the center of the venue. As he hummed, he pulled out a bottle and a bag of candy from a bag.

"Ah?"

The person immediately noticed Yukito's appearance.

"Hello, Yukito-kun."

He waved his hand in a happy and smiling voice.

"Are you taking a walk too?"

Yukito was speechless. Intuitively, he approached the image of meeting in isolated and unexplored territory.

(Walk?)

That person is...

Kurama Haruaki, Yanagi Makoto's former disciple and Sagawa Jingi's classmate, called out to Yukito with a smile.

"You can come too. Today is really a good day for a picnic, right?"

"......"

Yukito came closer as if he was fascinated. He really felt like he had been charmed by a fox or a raccoon dog.

As Yukito sat on the edge of the rug, Kurama excitedly poured the warm liquid from the bottle into a glass.

"Take this, it's tea."

He continued speaking.

"Do you want sweets too? Do you want crispy and delicious fries?"

Yukito looked at the delicate and neat face of a woman in Kurama, and then said:

"Oh, no, thank you. I'm fine with just the tea."

He finally murmured his thanks to him and received the tea. He was completely detoxed.

He took a sip of the tea into his mouth, and when he somehow felt comfortable, he sheepishly asked a question.

"Umm, Kurama-san, what are you doing here?"

"Ah?"

Kurama, who was looking at the soft light coming through the cracks in the trees, smiled and bowed his head.

"Eh? What are you saying...? I'm taking a walk... Just like you, right?"

"Oh, yes."

Yukito nodded vaguely. Kurama nodded.

"This is a place where life flows well. I like it too, and sometimes I come here to bathe in the forest. Come to think of it, my master used to walk here a lot. Fufu, you can't fight blood. It's very good."

Kurama looked very happy.

"......"

Yukito finally understood.

At first, he thought that Kurama had gone before him for some reason to help or warn him.

But not.

(This place, which I have entered with all my might, is nothing more than an easy daily path for Kurama-san.)

Kurama's next statement made it confirmation.

"If you don't mind, can I show you the deep end?"

"......!"

Something that had been stubborn inside Yukito suddenly melted away. He let out a wry smile involuntarily. The tragic feeling that he had thought that he might not be able to come home now was ridiculous. He was sure that he must have been walking on a promenade that was the size of a hiking trail, as if it were the end of the world.

"No."

Yukito shook his head with a giggle.

"I'll stop. Today..."

"Yes?"

Kurama tilted his head curiously.

Then he spent some time with Kurama. He drank another cup of tea and took some sweets with him. At first, the vitality he felt was excessive, but as he chatted with Kurama, he changed to a moderately comfortable level.

Yukito felt his feelings calm down slowly and silently. Before long, he helped Kurama put the mat away and walked with him to the entrance of the forest.

At that moment...

"Speaking of which, what about Jingi?"

Kurama asked.

"Yes. Well, I'm fine. That person isn't a proper adult, so it's a big deal."

"Yes."

Kurama seemed worried. They reached the exit of the forest faster than he expected.

(I see... I didn't go into the forest at all.)

He thought deeply.

The sun was still high when they came out of the woods. Thereupon, Yukito parted ways with Kurama, who had other business to attend to, and headed straight home. Strangely, unlike him before entering the forest, he was able to return home without hesitation.

When he got to the door, he met Momoko who was sweeping.

"Ah, Yukito-kun."

Momoko looked at him as if she saw Yukito's expression. Yukito took a deep breath.

(Alright.)

He talked to himself and smiled.

"Momoko-san, I have a little story to tell you."

Anyway, he thought of telling her little by little what happened while he was away from that island.

Momoko relaxed her shoulders and smiled as if she had sensed something.

"Yes. Well then, why don't we have a cup of tea? There are delicious rice crackers, would you like?"

"...Yes!"

Yukito followed Momoko through the front door. He noticed that his shoulders were weaker than when he left.

BROTHERS 02: KURAMA HARUAKI & JINGI SAGAWA

An Aramitama was crying.

While spinning like a tornado, he would swing his eight arms and destroy whatever he hit.

It was like a storm of malice that cut fields, felled trees and stone walls. The constant roar of the wind sounded like a scream of agony.

Poor thing.

Kurama Haruaki feels helpless pity for the supernatural beings that wreak destruction.

A block of stone was blown by the wind from the Aramitama, brushed the hem of his hunting clothes and hit the railing behind him. Steel railings were smashed into dogleg shapes and stones were smashed to pieces. With that behind him, Kurama stepped forward.

"Oh, pathetic vitality that has become stagnant and polluted. I will exorcise your suffering."

And Kurama crossed his arms.

"Between heaven and earth, empty and endless, move and finally come out."

The Aramitama turned to him.

Red eyes glued to the raging wind widened. The vitality that floated in the surroundings moved towards Kurama as if it was drawn to him. It became the current of the atmosphere, the wind, and began to revolve around Kurama.

An Aramitama has no intelligence. However, instinctively, the Aramitama recognized Kurama's vitality as "something that makes it difficult for him to exist". Extending his eight arms, the Aramitama rushed towards Kurama with the force of a hurricane.

The golden fan was flung open.

To hide his mouth, Kurama turned his fan forward. The gold-rimmed key shone faintly in the sunlight. Kurama swung the fan from right to left, like a good dancer dancing for a moment.

The Aramitama's charge drifted far to the left.

Caught by the hand of an invisible giant, the Aramitama began to spin around Kurama as if he was being forced. He stretched out his eight arms and struggled to grab hold of Kurama's body, but was never able to escape Kurama's path.

Kurama kept dancing. He was also spinning on the spot, pulling his legs, stretching his arms, and swinging the fan constantly.

Kurama was now producing a large tornado. When he turned, the atmosphere changed, and the wind from the Aramitama turned into a tornado entangled in a tornado. The eight arms that were in front of Kurama gradually lost their strength, and began to sway as if they were responding to Kurama's fans and enjoying dancing in the wind.

"Nothing is called the beginning of heaven and earth, existence is called the mother of all things."

When Kurama chanted that spell, the entire tornado began to glow pale gold. The flowing vitality eliminated the Aramitama's stagnant vitality and he was about to eliminate it. Aramitama himself, as if pleased by this, extended his eight arms and pointed them towards the sky.

A golden glow enveloped the Aramitama.

Eight arms stretched out into the sky, the red eyes caught in the center turned into golden bubbles and melted in midair. Like a receding wind, the golden bubbles rose up in a tornado and were sucked into the heavens.

Before long, Kurama stopped dancing.

Nothing was left behind. You couldn't even feel the sway of a gentle breeze. A veil of tranquility fell everywhere.

Kurama raised his face.

His usual calm expression had returned. He closed the golden fan with a snap and returned it to his pocket.

As if on cue, a young man jumped from the railing of the embankment.

"Hey, Haru-nii. Are you done?"

Jingi waved his hand slightly with his usual sloppy face. Kurama let out a small sigh and looked up as if to reproach him for such an act of kindness.

"You're too late, Jingi. I finished everything."

"Ok, then, originally it wasn't a job two people could do."

"That's right. It's a job you should do alone."

When he said it without hesitation, Jingi was unable to answer and remained silent. Kurama slowly climbed onto the bench, one step at a time, a smile on his face.

"In the first place, you're the one who said that you wanted to appease the Mitama because you needed money, so why did I come earlier?"

"No, well, that's... a lot happened. I helped an old lady who was in trouble on the road."

"Hmm. Where is she from? I have to say hello later."

"......"

Kurama was smiling. It wasn't that he was angry. He has been seeing his brother like this for over ten years. It's not that kind of relationship that will make you angry, shocked or abandon him.

But where it must be pressed, it must be pressed.

Upon reaching the embankment, Kurama tapped him on the shoulder.

"But don't worry, Jingi. You still have work to do."

"What is it...?"

Kurama turned around. A desolate field stretches there. Fortunately, it was fallow land, so there was no crop damage.

"It must be hard for the people in this house to clean up after themselves. Please help me with that, Jingi."

"......"

Jingi made a very unpleasant face. He knows this because they have known each other for a long time. The act that this younger brother hates the most is none other than "work". In particular, he thinks that he would be better off dead than doing simple, tedious, persevering work like cleaning up afterward.

Of course, Kurama doesn't care about such things. If you want compensation, you have to work for it.

"Then please, I'll give it to you, Jingi."

"Oh, I'm coming!"

Shouting as if he had given up, Jingi went down the embankment. Kurama nodded in satisfaction when he saw her back.

++++++++++

"This is the last time!"

He threw the large stone caught in the field back into the original river bed and it collapsed on the spot.

His entire body was drenched in sweat, and while he was out of breath, Jingi wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had already taken off his jacket and was only wearing a T-shirt. He covered the areas that could be covered with the pulse patching technique, but all other areas were manual labor. His entire body creaked, telling him that he would definitely have muscle pain tomorrow.

"Haru-nii! It's over, damn it!"

Still crouched, Jingi turned his head and looked toward the bench. Under the sky that was turning redder, Kurama was sitting calmly on the edge of the bench.

"Yes. Thanks for your hard work, Jingi."

Kurama, smiling and drinking tea, looks like a jizo or something. In fact, all around him were rice, vegetables, sake and other offerings, in other words, gifts from the islanders. Kurama, who has appeased many Mitama as the priest of the Kasen Shrine, is very popular among the islanders, and even if he passes through the path, he will receive things.

Standing up and starting up the embankment, Kurama lifted the teapot next to him.

"Would you like some tea? Tomi-san in the back made it for me. I have some for you."

"No, it's okay, I'll have this drink."

Jingi took the four-sided bottle, put it directly into his mouth, and began to drink. The sweet alcohol slid down his throat and his insides heated. He let out a breath and sat down on the spot.

"Ah, I'm tired... or rather, Haru-nii, if you're just looking at me here, please help me."

Kurama smiled slightly.

"I can't do that. It's a devotional job, so I can't get my hands on it."

"If that's the case, there's no point in being here. You should have waited somewhere warmer."

"My brother is working for the first time in a long time. Isn't it your brother's duty to watch over you?"

Jingi sighed quietly. If he was someone other than Kurama, he would have simply pointed out, "You shouldn't be watching, you should be helping". But this brother says it from the bottom of his heart. Look at Jingi with the affection of the family, not with duties and responsibilities.

Precisely because he knows that, Jingi didn't raise his head to Kurama.

Kurama brought his mouth close to the teacup and then looked inside. He looks like he ran out of tea. Kurama suddenly directed his attention to the bottle Jingi was holding and handed him a cup of tea.

"One for me too."

That was fine, Kurama is fresh mouthed. Jingi smiled wryly and tipped the sake bottle.

"Okay."

Totto-totto-, the teacup was filled abundantly while making a pleasant sound. After waiting for the sake to settle down, Kurama took it to his mouth. The white throat moved up and down two or three times, and Kurama let out a satisfied sigh.

"Yes. I like it, it turns me on."

"Is that so? Are you cold?"

"Oh, of course. It's still time for hot sake to be delicious."

Suddenly, the brothers' eyes met. They didn't need words. They nodded to each other, rose to their feet at the same time, and began preparations for withdrawal.

He returned the teapot and teacup to Tomi-san in the back, and for some reason, it was decided that the reward would go to Jingi. It was rare for Jingi to do this kind of simple job, but for some reason, when she got close to Kurama, he turned like this.

"Come on."

Kurama was walking down the sidewalk with Jingi, clutching a four-sided bottle in one hand. His face was slightly drunk, and he had been repeatedly hiccuping for a while now. If other people were doing the same, they'd be sloppy drunks, but when his brother's drunk, there's a happy atmosphere.

"Hey, Haru-nii. It's dangerous, come a little closer."

"Hmm? Oh, that's right. Fufufu, thanks, Jingi."

Kurama smirked as he staggered closer to Jingi. He should have been reasonably strong against alcohol, but it might be because he drank the sake from the teacup in one go. When he was worried about whether he could reach his destination safely, Kurama suddenly took something out of his pocket.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Haru-nii, that..."

"Oh, this? Fufufu, it's alright. Chatarou and Yako chose it. Are you jealous?"

"No, it's just a cell phone, right? Everyone has one."

"Is that so, isn't it? Oh, my, this is so easy to operate!"

"That's because it's for children. It's the first time I've seen a twenty-year-old wearing something like this..."

"Well, it's better to be easy than hard, isn't it? Well, that's it... What are you trying to do?"

Kurama stopped, turned his head and began to think. After that, he suddenly turned his cell phone towards Jingi, pointed at the messaging app.

"Hey, Jingi. What's that red thing in the upper right?"

"What? It means you have unread messages. What's that?!"

"Is incredible?"

"Haru-nii, you didn't reply! Look at this, you've been receiving confirmation messages from Chatarou many times!"

"Chatarou, ah, that's right! I was thinking of telling Chatarou that his job was done! Great, do your best!"

With a bright expression on his face, Kurama patted Jingi's head. Although he was weak, he was willing to accept it.

Kurama looked at his cell phone again. He blinked several times with his eyes wet with alcohol and, for some reason, crouched down with the sake bottle at his feet.

"Well, if you want I'll show you. Click here... then..."

"......"

"Press the white area, then... "F" "O" "R" "C" "H" "A" "T" "A" "R" "O" "U"..."

"......"

"Hmm? Hey, okay? How can I make the "letters" smaller?"

"Don't worry! Lend it to me!"

Jingi grabbed Kurama's cell phone and sent a message to Chatarou at high speed. "I'm done with my work, so I'm going out for a drink. Just do it right away."

No matter how you flip it, it's a line Kurama is unlikely to say, and Chatarou will probably get confused, but that's not what Jingi knows.

"Yes, it's over! That's enough, don't use your cell phone!"

When he handed back Kurama's phone, he clapped for some reason.

"Oh, that's amazing! I'm sorry, Jingi. After all, you are a reliable little brother."

"Oh, I'm not at all happy to be praised for something like this..."

"But is it okay? Maybe it's too soon and it won't arrive properly?"

"Eh?"

Kurama crossed his arms and thought. He's always been fluffy, but now he's twice as fluffy because he's drunk.

"If you go too fast, you might make a wrong turn or get stuck somewhere. I'm starting to feel uneasy. Would that message get lost?"

"That's not going to happen, what are you saying?"

"Hmm. Just in case, let's send it by another means."

Kurama didn't seem to have heard Jingi's words at all. He put his cell phone in his pocket and took out something else in his place. It was a note on Japanese paper and a brush.

He scribbled something on a notepad and tossed it into the air. Concentrating on the fluttering notes, Kurama signaled at a speed that didn't draw attention.

"Humanity, earth and sky! Each one of us, the arts and crafts of our husbands, return to your roots!"

A localized tornado erupted, entangled the memo and propelled it into the sky. The note flew over his head like a bird into the sky at breakneck speed.

Looking at the stunned dedication, he nodded in satisfaction.

"With this, I should get to Chatarou properly. Come on, Jingi."

Looking at Kurama's back, who began to walk quickly, Jingi replied weakly.

"No, you don't need a cell phone, you..."

++++++++++

Izakaya "Usagi" has many advantages, but the biggest one is that you are free to bring your own food.

Of course, there is a fee per seat, but still, it's cheaper to bring as many snacks and sake as you want, and if you pay for the ingredients and technical fees, the owner, Azuki Mitarai, will cook you a decent dish. In Ninoshima, where there are many people engaged in agriculture and fishing, it was truly a dream shop.

That's why Kurama and Jingi visited "Usagi".

"Oh, Kurama-sensei! That's weird!"

"Sensei! Thank you very much for the other day! Thanks to you, my wife is fine!"

"Sensei! Have a drink! It's my treat!"

As soon as he entered the store, the customers welcomed Kurama at once. Kurama greeted with a smile, responded to the handshakes and gratefully accepted the alcohol and food they offered him. It was also nice not to show unnecessary restraint or concern, and it was one of Kurama's virtues.

Kurama, who was in high demand, was finally given a seat at the table in the center of the store. On the other hand, Jingi delivered the offerings received from the residents to Mitarai.

"Azuki-chan, I beg you to do this. Keep it nice."

"Okay, but I'll take the exact price. The bill won't be paid this time."

"Huh? Well, that's it, hahahaha..."

"Don't fake it by laughing."

Unlike Mitarai, who had a calm look, Jingi's gaze wavered.

Kurama thought with a drunken head. (My brother is in trouble.) Then it was his brother's turn.

"Okay, okay, I've got this place. Let's pop, pop!"

The interior of the store exploded.

"Oh, Sensei!"

"Are you sure you want me to do that...? We didn't do anything."

"But that's what Kurama-sensei said. I'm grateful here..."

Kurama tilted his head. He really didn't understand why everyone was so upset. It occurred to him that his comments were interpreted as "treat everyone".

Jingi noticed the same thing and rolled his eyes and said:

"Wait, wait, you cheeky bastards! Why would Haru-nii buy from you?"

"Of course it's fine! Everyone's portion is also my present!"

Jingi opened his mouth wide and the drunken guests cheered.

"Uooooooh, as expected of Kurama-sensei! Higher humans are different!"

"Sensei! Bring as many bottles of sake as you can! Sensei, I'll order it for you!"

"Sensei, I will follow you forever!"

"Sen-sei! Sen-sei!"

Kurama laughed and waved to the applause that rained down. Jingi said bitterly as he sat down across from Kurama.

"Hey, Haru-nii! Are you alright?! Even the Kasen Shrine can't afford it!"

"Well, that's good. It's a celebration of devotion to work."

"No, I just happened to work today, and it's not like I'm going to get a job."

"Oooh?! Did you hear that?! Looks like Jingi is going to get a job!"

"What?! That devastating dedication!"

"Jingi's Dedication?!"

"A worthless dedication!

"Stay in line there. I'll hit you one by one!"

He got angry and kicked his seat, but the same number of sake bottles as the number of guests were pushed, and they were thrown back to their seat. The sake cups were lined up in front of Kurama, and they poured one after the other without worrying about spilling.

"Come on, Sensei! First of all, come over here!"

"Yes."

For now, Kurama held the sake cup in front of him high.

"Good luck then."

"Cheers!"

He didn't remember much after that.

He only remembered the hands of the owner who brought the food, his expression of devotion as if he had swallowed a sour bug, how he toasted each time a new customer arrived, and how many people asked him for advice, but his drunken head closed. But he couldn't quite understand, and when he repeated "I see" and "I see", the conversation somehow went smoothly.

Before long, those hours had passed, and when the only people sitting at the table were Kurama and Jingi, he suddenly said:

"How is Yukito-kun?"

"Eh?"

Jingi, who was drinking chuhai, looked at Kurama with dark eyes. Up to that point, he's been drinking gallons. "Ah...", he let out a voice that sounded just like he remembered it, and Jingi laughed out loud.

"That reminds me, I heard you met him the other day. Somewhere in the woods. I don't know what to do, but please tell me, thank you."

"Thank you? What?"

"Well? He mentioned that he was able to get home thanks to you. He got lost?"

Kurama thought with a drunken head. It is true that he met Yukito during a bath in the forest, but he didn't think he was lost. All Kurama knows is that they had tea together and had a good time chatting.

Jingi then slammed his body against the back. Suspending the handle of the cup with just his little finger and turning it (Kurama thought it was dangerous, he shouldn't do it), he said without looking at anyone.

"Well, is it okay for me to be his teacher? Isn't it better that I be Haru-nii? You have two apprentices of the same age."

It's not like he's complaining. Jingi is not that kind of person. He was just expressing a question that had just popped into his head.

Indeed, Kurama thought. Jingi isn't necessarily qualified as a hookup master. Little serious and irresponsible, living from day to day. No matter how much a person likes Jingi, he can't deny that he is given such an evaluation.

But Kurama smiled and shook his head.

"That's not true, Jingi. Luckily, you're fine as his master."

Jingi looked at Kurama. He had a look as if he was asking, "Why?"

Kurama closed his eyes thoughtfully and answered.

"Of all of us, you are more like his master than anyone. You are similar in his ugly parts, but you are also similar in his amazing parts. That is why you are perfect for Yukito-kun, my master's son."

"......"

"Aka and I probably won't be as good as you. We won't be able to open Yukito-kun's heart. That's why he's okay with you, Jingi."

Jingi gasped slightly. It must have been because his head was half asleep. Kurama didn't quite understand who he was talking about.

He just took a small breath and laughed.

"Then. Well, if Haru-nii says so, I will remain his master in silence."

"Yeah. That's fine. That's fine."

It was then that he lost consciousness for a moment.

Before he knew it, Kurama was being shaken by someone. When he opened his eyes and looked over there, he seemed to be the owner's face. With a slightly concerned look on his face, he shook Kurama's shoulder.

"Sensei, Kurama-sensei, we're closing the shop. Damn those guys, they made him drink until he was like this..."

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry, Mitarai-san. It's alright, I'll prepare..."

"Hmm? Are you going to walk along the river bank?"

For some reason, while drinking canned chuhai, Jingi, who was sitting in front of him, asked curiously. Kurama smiled wryly. Sleeping for a moment, his thoughts woke up a bit. The difference between Kurama and Jingi is that he likes sake, but not enough to drink.

"No, it's the end of the day, Jingi. Go home properly for today."

"...Yes."

Seeing his younger brother nod more obediently than usual, Kurama smirked and reached for his kariginu's chest.

He serched and serched.

He serched again.

Kurama then looked at Jingi. With a troubled smile, Jingi's expression suddenly clouded over.

"Jingi."

"What's happen?"

"Apparently, I lost my wallet. I think it was when I faced the Aramitama."

"Eh?"

The matter seemed problematic. If Jingi said the same, he'd probably be cussing, "Liar, you runaway bastard!" There was no way the famous Kurama could do such a thing. Before long, his gaze remained on Jingi's twitching face, as did Kurama.

At that moment, Kurama, with a completely innocent smile on his face, said to Jingi:

"Then please take care of me, Jingi."

"Even so, you really listen to what Sensei says, you bastard. To think that he would just go looking for his wallet."

Mitarai muttered something like that as he cleaned the shop.

To his credit, Kurama was allowed to wait inside the shop. Although it is spring, the nights are still cold. It was a political consideration that he couldn't throw at a celebrity who was still drinking sake, but Kurama didn't notice that and grabbed the cup of tea he had just drunk with both hands.

"Yes. He's a reliable little brother."

He said it sincerely and drank the tea.

BROTHERS 03: JINGI SAGAWA & AKA IBUKI

Human beings have certain qualities that they are born with, each has its own position and is designed to fit where they should.

"Mochi is a rice cake", "Society is a puzzle that compensates for unevenness", "Everyone is different, everyone is good". No matter who you ask, you'll probably come across one or two of those idioms.

Taihei Makita believes that there is some truth to this mediocre view of society.

But at the same time, there are people in this world who are truly extraordinary, people who cannot belong to the "professional", and there are tasks that only they can do. Makita also knows that such a person exists.

For example, Aka Ibuki, the head of "Ayaka Security", is one of them.

++++++++++

He still couldn't sense anything disturbing in the lights of the distant downtown area.

However, the reason why he seemed like this is because Makita has no spiritual qualities. A keen sense, due to a special practice or innate constitution, the possessor can see the flow of spiritual energy before it solidifies and manifests, what the local language calls "Ki".

How would you like this scene?

He wondered what the representative of "Ayaka Security", Aka Ibuki, sees.

Saying nothing, Ibuki took a chocolate bar from his pocket and chewed on it. It hasn't been long since he started waiting in that alley on the outskirts of town, but the garbage can next to him was already full of packing scraps.

Ibuki stuffed things into the spaces between work and daily errands. Since he was a child, he's always been a big eater, but lately he's been much hungrier than normal people.

He is not a giant like Makita. His physique wrapped in a suit is rather slender. As for where the food disappears, it probably becomes Ibuki's "abilities" and physical drive, in other words, the heat of the fight.

A strange scream was heard from the direction of the city center. A bestial roar was mixed with an unpleasant metallic sound.

"An Aramitama, it has materialized. Let's go there."

"I understand... Boss, I'm coming."

When Makita, who received the report, looked at him, Ibuki gave a slight nod and began to walk towards the light. His whole body began to feel strange. It was a high-pressure life force that glowed in the surrounding air like a mist of heat.

"Ayaka Security" is a security company whose service area is Ayaka and Ichinoshima Islands. That is their official position, but in reality they are a group of armed exorcists whose mission is to exterminate the materialized psychic disorder "Aramitama" and minimize the damage.

The distant screams began to mix with the shots, and then those driven to shoot appeared.

Hovering over a two-story building on the outskirts of the city, a huge "snake" with a thick body that looks like the trunk of a large tree, with two arms twisted like a rope. It has a mask-like head with a gigantic eye that splits vertically.

The members of "Ayaka Security" surround the squirming "snake" and chase after it. A team of about 10 people, focused on young people in their twenties. They are armed with large and small firearms such as pistols, rifles, and machine guns. It is a weapon that is sophistically approved for use under the guise of "a tool used in festivals held on the island". All bullets have undergone goryo exorcism and have a spiritual impact.

However, the anti-personnel firearms did not do much damage to the giant "snake". The "snake" rushed forward with increasing speed, as if it hated the hail bullets that were hitting its entire body. It was an impulse that tried to crush Ibuki who was standing in front of him.

Ibuki took out a large pistol from his pocket and fired casually.

The bullet landed on the "serpent's" forehead and its huge head was knocked off.

Ibuki's weapon, itself, was nothing compared to the firearms his subordinates possessed. However, the power of the bullets fired from there was incomparable. It is the difference in ability between the subordinates who use weapons imbued with the power of magic and Ibuki, who is a powerful magician.

In succession, two, three more bullets fired by Ibuki hit his torso, scraping the flesh of condensed vitality, and the "snake" soared into the sky as he raised an anguished voice, and then, eyes shining at Ibuki. He recognized Ibuki as his enemy.

A gigantic sickle head turned towards Ibuki, and his entire body was bent with terrifying power. In the next moment, it came out like a spring.

A fierce smile appeared at the corner of Ibuki's mouth. As he took a low stance and stomped his feet firmly on the ground, the vitality that enveloped his entire body began to emit a strange glow. In other words, he himself was a monster comparable to an Aramitama. The "snake" roared and jumped on another monster that appeared in front of him, opening his jaws. He was already too close for a gun. A poisonous fang like an iron spear would pierce through Ibuki's body at that moment. The pistol grip was hammered into the forehead of the "snake".

A strong blow like an iron hammer broke the mask of the "snake", the face of the exoskeleton with a single huge eye.

Ibuki uses a pistol to apply his own technique to the bullets and shoot them from a distance. If you are within range of realistic fists and legs, it is more effective to hit with meat.

Second shot, third shot and more. With each punch, Ibuki made a big swing and threw his grab, elbow, left fist, left and right knees with all his might. Furthermore, he plunged deep into the frightened

Aramitama, placed the pistol in his right hand on his chin in a boxing manner, and fired rapidly. When the magazine was empty, he dropped the pistol and hit the head and entire body of the "snake" with both fists. His rough appearance is exactly like a devil.

Makita gave instructions to the members who were chasing the "snake" and had them surround the demon and the "snake" from afar. If that happens, there is nothing they can do. Originally, the purpose of that mission was to drive the giant Aramitama away from the city and guide him to that place where his "boss" could wield all of his power.

An Aramitama up to a certain scale can be dealt with by members with the provided firearms. However, it's hard to deal with something that has grown to a monstrous size, like that, unless it's a real caster.

Although "Ayaka Security" prides itself on being Ikki Tousen, it is essentially a one-man team focused on and working to support the powerful magician Aka Ibuki. If you compare it to a Guso puzzle, Aka Ibuki is a gigantic distorted and sharp piece. He is irreplaceable.

"Oh, it's decided!"

One of the bloodthirsty members raised his voice.

A barrage of fists and feet strengthened by supernatural art finally shattered the "snake" mask. A gigantic eyeball the size of a melon, Aramitama's core was exposed and rolled out of the half-destroyed skull. If that is destroyed, the Aramitama will no longer be able to maintain his body, and it will become a stagnant life force and disperse.

But...

Another eyeball appeared behind the giant eyeball.

"There are two cores...!"

Makita and the members were amazed, and Ibuki also took a retreat stance as a precaution.

The first eyeball of the "snake" formed a new skull with a thick vitality in the air.

The torso, like the trunk of a large tree, fell apart. It was originally made of two "snakes" twisted together like a shimenawa.

(This is bad...!)

In a head-on fight, Ibuki never loses, but the separation of the Aramitama in front of him was completely unexpected.

He started a two-on-one battle against the two-headed "snake". Just as Makita feared, the two coordinated snakes played with Ibuki, who was superior in strength. As Ibuki's eyes warned against one of the "snake" heads, the other ate from the side.

A living fist struck one of his long torsos, and the other, unharmed, became entangled.

Makita ordered the members to take cover, but the firepower was insufficient, and moreover, the line of fire was limited so as not to hit Ibuki, who was fighting with the "snake". It could not be called a decent force. There was no place for ordinary people to enter the vast arena of spiritual warfare.

As the armed members struggled to get their hands on it, Ibuki was quickly outnumbered. Originally, it is a style that consumes a lot of physical strength and is not suitable for long duration battles. Even as he did that, Ibuki's attacks were muffled and his defenses were weakening. At some point, he would receive fatal damage.

Not that there was nothing they could do. It would not be impossible to forcefully intervene in this battle between the devil and the "snake" to break the deadlock. But that puts some members at risk of injury.

"You can go. I'll stay a while and become a decoy."

The member who spoke earlier, Furin, told Makita.

"There are many people who can replace us, but there is no one who can replace the boss. Make no mistake."

"No, no, you are irreplaceable human resources."

Makita smiled wryly as if to fool his inner thoughts, but he had to make a decision immediately.

Finally, the fangs of the "snake" grazed Ibuki's shoulder, it didn't seem like a fatal blow, but his stance collapsed and his next move was delayed. On the other hand, the "second snake" had already built up strength in preparation for the next blow.

"Come on!"

As Furin jumped, something flashed overhead with a sharp sound.

Next, the head of the ''snake'', which attacked Ibuki, was flipped over by a great force and fell backwards. Fine droplets smelling of alcohol fell on Furin's head.

"What is this... alcohol?"

"Alright."

A young man approached from the street. He raised one hand in a nonchalant tone and held a long can of commercially available chuhai in the other hand.

"Jingy...!"

"Hey, why are you here?"

Both Furin and the other members, looking somewhat relieved, called out to the man in the chuhai.

To Ibuki Aka's "younger disciples", Sagawa Jingi's face was familiar.

"When I was drinking in town, it seemed like there was some kind of chaos around here... so..."

As he spoke, Jingi climbed up on the wall next to him and sat cross-legged.

"Haha, I came to see you."

"Hey, if you're just kidding..."

Controlling the wind forest, Makita said:

"Please give your support to the boss."

"Well, it's alright. This brother will do his best~♪"

Jingi tipped the can over and spilled the contents on the ground in front of him.

No, the spilled liquid floated as if it had lost gravity just before hitting the ground, turning into a spongy transparent sphere. It is the effect of the moisture manipulation technique, which is Jingi's specialty.

As he did so, the two-headed "snake" regained its stance and attacked with a beast-like siren scream.

Responding to the simultaneous left and right attacks, Ibuki turned towards the head approaching from the left and punched out with his fist from the front. A blow that entered the center of the monocular, the impact shattered the "snake's" skull, and hard eyeballs protruded from the back of his head.

Another "snake" head attacked Ibuki's empty back. A fist-sized transparent mass hit the side of his head. It wasn't as fast as a bullet, and it wasn't as powerful as Ibuki's fist, but with just the right amount of power, it accurately hit the opponent's nose.

The time gained by Jingi was less than a second. That was enough for Ibuki to regain his balance.

Ibuki, who turned towards the remaining head, grabbed the center of the "snake's" head with his fist as before and pulled it out of the skull.

The life energy that made up the body of the "snake" that had lost its two cores quickly dispersed, and the yorishiro that was left in midair fell with a thud. It's probably something like the amulet you're dealing with in Ichinoshima Shrine It is a keyring with two bells attached to a small shimenawa.

"Well done, big brother. Congratulations!"

Jingi lightly clapped his hands and Ibuki loosened his grip as he undid the technique. His breathing was rough and his fatigue was dark, but his expression remained calm.

"But maybe you're trying too hard. Let's take it easy."

Jingi jumped off the wall, walked around after the fierce battle, picked up the Aramitama cores one by one from the ground, muttered something, and tossed them into empty chuhai cans. Then, for some reason, a handful of eyeballs were sucked into the small spout of the empty can. As if to check the contents, Jingi waved the can to his ear and heard the sound of small things rolling and a low moan.

"Wow, is this the same guy?"

Jingi picked up the "snake" yorishiro from his feet. A small shimenawa, wriggling like two entwined worms, jingling bells.

"Maybe it's because I used the shimenawa as a yorishiro... the veins of the two Aramitamas got entangled and their lives will be lost. Well, there's more than I can handle..."

"Jingi, I'll take care of that here."

As Ibuki extended his right hand, Jingi suddenly frowned and stared at his hand.

"No. I'll take this guy to Minoshima and make him calm down."

When Jingi mentioned the name of the place, the atmosphere of the place stiffened for a moment. The employees of "Ayaka Security" secretly looked at Ibuki's complexion.

After a short pause, Ibuki jerked his chin toward the path home.

"Do what you want."

Jingi smiled and nodded, then began to walk briskly. In contrast to Ibuki's behavior, which would intimidate even his direct subordinates, Jingi had nothing to defend. He is a unique respite from the sibling relationship.

"Well then, big brother and everyone, see you later."

Jingi slipped past the employees and walked toward the city. Just as he thought, he came running from a few steps away.

"Almost forgot! Big brother, pay for the chuhai you used in the technique just now, pay! 200 yen! 200 yen!"

"You're a child!"

Beside Furin, who reflexively retorted, Makita smiled wryly. Ibuki's expression also seemed to soften a bit.

"Makita."

Prompted by Ibuki, Makita took his wallet out.

"Here. Liquor fee plus attendance fee. Thank you very much."

"Oh, you have a million tickets! I love you, Maki-chan!"

Jingi waved the 10,000 yen bill he was holding between his fingers and literally danced away.

"Thanks big brother! Let's all play again!"

"It's not "Let's play again". We're working."

"Hahaha..."

As Jingi slipped past the employees, he stepped into the darkness, jumped, and disappeared.

"Damn... as usual, he's an iffy guy."

"He's hanging out anyway, so he should work at "Ayaka Security"."

"Ah, regardless of personality, he is reliable as a fighting force."

"What do you think? He can't be a team player, right?"

As the main members of "Ayaka Security" said, Makita warned them with a wry smile.

"Don't say that. He must have his own way of thinking."

So...

"No, that's not true, Makita-san."

"He only moves with immediate glue!"

"Haha, is that so?"

While laughing, Makita looked at Ibuki.

Ibuki stared thoughtfully into space as he rubbed his right hand, but after a while he pulled a chocolate bar from his chest and began to nibble on it.

Makita shrugged slightly and began to instruct the members to stand down.

++++++++++

Human society is a puzzle. While each other's distortions complement each other, they come together as one.

But Jingi Sagawa is not a piece by any means. Like water, like smoke, it seems to fit anywhere and doesn't fit anywhere. He slips through a small gap and drifts off again.

There are extraordinary people in this world, and there are duties that only these people can fulfill. Taihei Makita knows that such people exist.

Ibuki's "little brother", Sagawa Jingi, is probably one of those people.

Makita, who is an ordinary person, has no way of knowing what kind of duties he will carry on his shoulders.

BROTHERS 04: AKA IBUKI & YUKITO YANAGI

"The sea train is not moving?"

Yukito Yanagi stood still in the Ichinoshima Station building with a puzzled expression on his face.

"It sure is windy today."

In contrast to the puzzled Yukito, Sanji Inou nodded calmly.

"Um, when are you moving in?"

"Well, it's impossible today, isn't it?"

A reluctant driver said rudely.

Yukito became increasingly worried and looked in the direction of Yukito's current home in Ninoshima. The island's shadow isn't far away, but if it's separated by the sea, Yukito won't be able to reach it on his own.

He had heard that the sea train was easy to stop, but he didn't think that even on a sunny day, strong winds would stop it.

"What shall we do? The ship..."

"If you ask, there will be places that provide it, but you shouldn't force yourself to cross the sea on a windy day. Stay in Ichinoshima today."

Inou said that lightly. For 15-year-old Yukito, not being able to go home today was a big deal, but seeing Inou's calm smile, his shoulders relaxed as he wondered if he would be forced to find a way to get home.

Today, Yukito came to Ichinoshima at Momoko's request. It was a simple mission to deliver the botamochi made by Momoko to Inou and buy a special ham from a store in Ichinoshima. Since he came to Ayaka Island, he has always gone out with Jingi, but this morning he went out to have fun, so Yukito is alone. He felt a little uneasy, but he remembered that he had been taken there before, and he was able to get to the town hall without any problem. Inou welcomes Yukito when he visits, treats him to tea, and accompanies him to a renowned butcher shop that sells delicious ham.

He had finished his errands without a hitch and all that was left was to go home.

Yukito followed Inou out of the sea train station building.

"Well then, you should come to my house. However, I'm sorry I can't have dinner with you today because I have a dinner plan..."

"No! All I need is a place to sleep."

"But..."

It seems that Inou can't bear to let Yukito eat alone. He turned his gaze as if he was thinking, fixed his eyes on a corner of the busy Ichinoshima street and exclaimed: "Ah!"

"Aka-kun!"

As he followed Inou's gaze in shock, he saw a tall, thin young man in a suit across the street.

Aka Ibuki. The second disciple of Makoto Yanagi, Yukito's father. He currently heads "Ayaka Security", a special security company that deals with the Aramitamas on the island of Ichinoshima, while also fighting on the front lines himself.

His eyes are sharp and he wears a terrifying atmosphere that seems to be not solid. In fact, Yukito knows that he has a weapon hidden in his pocket (it's a special anti-Aramitama weapon, and although seems to have obtained permission from the city, it's still dangerous).

Yukito has a strong revulsion towards Ibuki's way of eliminating the Aramitama. In addition, there is also a feeling close to fear from having witnessed that incident.

Yukito flinched, but Inou smiled and moved closer to Ibuki. Yukito reluctantly did the same.

"Aka-kun, are you at work?"

"Yes. I'm about to head back to the office after completing my patrol."

"Are you free after this?"

"As long as no Aramitama appears, that's it for today."

Yukito had a bad feeling about the way Inou was speaking.

"Umm, Inou..."

"If you don't mind, can you have dinner with Yukito-kun today and let him stay the night? He was in trouble because the sea train stopped and he couldn't return to Ninoshima."

Yukito hugged his head.

Inou, who had been kind enough to say so, scratched his head and said, "My house is fine, but I can't bear to leave him alone late at night."

Ibuki's gaze turned to Yukito.

(Say no.), Yukito prayed in his heart. It's not that he hates Ibuki, but he's kind of scary and awkward. Even now, he remembers feeling suffocated. Ibuki was too high a hurdle for Yukito, who hadn't trained well in interpersonal relationships.

"You guys are like brothers, but you haven't been able to talk much since Yukito-kun came back, right? Because Yukito-kun is always monopolized by Jingi-kun."

Although Jingi is a troublesome guy with a high degree of uselessness, he now deeply felt how calm he was. Ibuki looked at Yukito for a few seconds with a blank expression that he didn't know what he was thinking. As soon as he said "Come on.", he turned on his heel.

Frowning, Sanji Inou looked at him with a smile on his face, as if to say that he was happy, and waved his hand saying, "See you later."

Reluctantly, Yukito followed Ibuki.

"I'm counting on you, Aka-kun.", said a relaxed voice behind him.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"I don't mind."

He was worried that he was angry at the way he was speaking, but Ibuki gave Yukito a sidelong glance and blurted out more words.

"What do you want to eat?"

"Eh?"

"In the dinner."

He seems like he really wanted them to have dinner together.

"I, anything..."

"...Right. Then I'll search the store properly."

Ibuki nodded to himself.

"I'll go back to my office. Yukito, please wait in the restaurant."

"Yes."

He once went to GOZ, a restaurant apparently owned by Ibuki. The "Ayaka Security" office seems to be in the same building where GOZ is located, so after parting ways with Ibuki once in the elevator, Yukito went to the restaurant alone.

GOZ was a store with a high threshold for Yukito, and after hesitating for a few seconds to work up the courage to open the door, he opened from the other side.

"Oh, you really are here."

A muscular brown-skinned man (he thinks his name was Makita) who showed his face from the other side of the door smiled brightly at Yukito.

"I just got a call from the boss. Aka-kun is coming, so drink some juice and wait for him."

"Thank you."

As he entered the store, the eyes of the four men and women sitting in the front boxes, dressed in outfits similar to Ibuki's and wearing red "Ayaka Security" armbands, turned to Yukito.

"Oh! That kid is Yanagi-sensei's son? It's dangerous."

A long-haired man in a threadbare suit got up from his seat and approached Yukito.

Furthermore, a beautiful woman leaned forward and tried to look at Yukito's face.

"Hey! He's cute! Is he around the same age as Ibara-chan? Ayakai!"

"Hey guys, don't do anything to surprise him."

A serious-looking young man in glasses scolded them both.

"...Sorry. Nice to meet you."

A young man with bangs long enough to hide his eyes greeted him silently.

When Yukito was puzzled, not knowing how to respond, Makita smiled brightly.

"I'm sorry, Yukito-kun. They are employees of "Ayaka Security"."

Furin was the man with long hair, Kanezaki was the beautiful woman, Mizutani was the man with glasses, and Onden was the man with long bangs.

The four of them (especially Furin and Kanezaki, who seemed to have bright personalities) seemed to want to talk to Yukito more, but the shy Yukito hesitated and went to the counter where Makita was. Makita laughed and opened a bottle of cider for Yukito. He poured cider into a glass filled with ice and there was a refreshing sound of bubbles popping.

Yukito sat down at the counter and thanked him for the glass of cider.

"Since you are the boss's younger brother, everyone is very curious about Yukito-kun."

"Brother..."

"Ah, I know. They're not related by blood. But, Yanagi-sensei's three disciples were all Yanagi-sensei's children, so it felt like they were brothers. Actually, Yukito-kun is probably an only child, but I can't help feel that he is the youngest."

None of them clicked. Ibuki and the others were like older brothers, and Yukito was thought to be the youngest, and he was the only son of a man named Makoto Yanagi.

"We're both Jingi's classmates. So when I was in elementary school, I often heard Jingi talk about Yanagi-sensei, his older brother, and his younger brother Yukito-kun. It felt like family proud."

Kanezaki smiled. Unable to imagine it, Yukito tilted his head vaguely.

"He's Yanagi-sensei's disciple and I get along with him because he's a future connection, right?"

Furin laughed. It was easy to imagine how he would get carried away, and this time Yukito nodded vaguely.

"But it's true that he loved his family, the Yanagi clan. He must be very happy that Yukito-kun has returned to the island. It seems that when he was a child, he loved them so much that he would protect their happiness. "

"Haa... I see, what is it?"

Yukito bowed his head again at Mizutani's words. He couldn't help feeling that he was getting "love" in a bad way even though he meant it with "love".

"Yes."

It was Makita who accepted the contract with a brilliant voice.

"Jingi is such a guy, but I'm very happy that Yukito-kun is back. And so is my boss."

"Ibuki-san?"

"Yes. It's hard to understand, but the boss is also happy about Yukito-kun's return. He has that kind of personality, and well... a lot has been going on, so it's hard for him to go see Yukito-kun on his own. Therefore, today, let him indulge you and eat expensive meals."

"No, not that..."

"Hahaha, it's filial piety to treat your older brother."

When Yukito was confused, the restaurant door opened.

"Ah boss! Good job!"

Looking at the person who entered, Furin straightened his posture and said that. The other three also shouted, "Thank you for your hard work!"

Expressionless, Ibuki slightly raised his hand in response and looked at the other people. He doesn't think he's angry, but his deadpan expression is intimidating.

The employees of "Ayaka Security" must have gotten used to Ibuki, so Kanezaki casually asked, "Boss, what are you going to eat with Yukito-kun?"

"...I thought of some candidates, something like "Arcane Ciel"."

A commotion broke out among the employees.

"Arcane Ciel?! That restaurant on the top floor of the most luxurious hotel in Ichinoshima?!"

"If you want to decide on a proposal, go there! Is that right?! The steak looks really delicious!"

Seeing Kanezaki and Furin raise their voices, Yukito broke out in a cold sweat and approached Ibuki.

"Ah, that's too high a threshold...!"

At Yukito's appeal, Ibuki raised his eyebrows, "I see."

"So, what about the "Grand Feast"?"

"Grand Feast?! It's totally a party place, isn't it? The giant roast turkey over there is so delicious they say you have to make a reservation two years in advance for Christmas!"

"Maybe I can get in at this time of year, but isn't it hard for two people to go together? Let's go together?!"

Mizutani calmly retorted from the side of Kanezaki and Furin, who were once again in shock, saying, "Guys, don't get in the way where the brothers come in."

Yukito's cold sweat increased and he shook his head.

"Um... if you could just ask at a store that wasn't so important!"

Makita laughed and sent a boat to help.

"Boss, you're too enthusiastic. He's only fifteen years old, so we have to make it a place where middle and high school students can eat comfortably."

Hearing Makita's words, Ibuki made a serious face.

"Is that so?"

++++++++++

The charcoal grill placed in front of Yukito made a small creak.

Ibuki grabbed the raw meat with tongs from the plate placed next to it and put it on the net. There was a nice sizzling sound and the fragrant smell of burnt sauce wafted through the air.

In the end, it turned out to be yakiniku.

It seems that everyone in "Ayaka Security" often goes to eat that "Gyouen". The security personnel were relieved to learn that they had settled into a reasonably secure restaurant, but a yakiniku restaurant was unfamiliar to them. Or better...

"It's my first time at a yakiniku restaurant."

Ibuki slightly raised an eyebrow as he remained expressionless.

"...Oh, really?"

Yukito was raised in an orphanage. He didn't have many opportunities to eat out. As he was looking curiously at the meat dripping with juices and being roasted in front of him, Ibuki yelled, "It's about time."

"Oh, yes."

When he tried to pick up the colored meat with his chopsticks and put it on the plate with the sauce, he said: "Wait!"

"That's too salty. You should dip it in lemon instead of sauce."

"Yes."

He wondered what that was next to the sauce dish, but it turned out to be a dish with lemon juice. As Ibuki instructed him to dip it in lemon and put it in his mouth, the refreshing taste of the meat spread out. It has a strange texture and is delicious.

He said, "Hey, hey.", as he felt the heat of the freshly roasted meat, and Ibuki replied, "I see."

Ibuki's expression was still deadpan with the usual sharpness, but he felt that his eyes had softened a bit. As he was looking at Ibuki's face through the smoke billowing from the charcoal stove, he told him, "The next one is cooked too."

"These are ribs. Dip them in the sauce and eat them."

"Yes!"

"The roast was also cooked. This is also a sauce."

"Thank you."

"Skirt Steak, Cooked"

"Yes, thanks."

"Rice is here too. Eat it with meat. Refills are free."

"Yes."

"Growing children should also eat vegetables. This grass is lettuce. Wrap the meat in plenty of sauce and eat it."

"Hm."

"This is a hormone. This one is also cooked."

"......"

He had run out of time to respond.

Without letting go of the tongs, Ibuki roasted the meat one after another. When Yukito's eating rate couldn't keep up and his chopsticks no longer reached the top of the net, Ibuki used his chopsticks to throw more and more ready-to-eat meat onto Yukito's plate.

The kalbi, tenderloin, flank steak, and hormones were delicious, but he felt like he was slipping away.

"Ah, umm, let me grill the meat next time. I've always had Ibuki-san take care of me, so…"

Rather than be considerate, it was an offer to at least control the pace of the cooking, but Ibuki firmly shook his head.

"No need. Yukito, focus on eating."

Ibuki still clung to the tongs, but while he took care of the meat that was always scattered in the net, he didn't neglect his own meals at all. He ate meat, rice and drank twice as fast as Yukito. Also, he called the store clerk and placed an additional order.

"Special Kalbi, Pork Tuna, Thick Sliced Beef Tongue, Bone-in Kalbi, Pot Pickled Brisket, Roasted Short Rib, Rump, Yukgejang all on two plates and one raw."

"Guh..."

Involuntarily, a frightened voice came out.

"Oh, it's too..."

"Don't stop"

"It's not that..."

"Also, rice for two."

"Uh..."

He was desperate to eat the meat offered to him one after another, and he forgot about the tension of being alone with Ibuki halfway through.

Yukito walked out of the store with a stomach that looked like it was going to burst.

"Thanks for the food..."

"Yes."

Ibuki must have eaten a lot more than Yukito, but he didn't seem to be sick to his stomach. Yukito looked at Ibuki's toned abdomen, wondering what was going on with that person's body.

"So, shall we go?"

He planned to stay at Ibuki's house today. However, Ibuki's legs headed for the building where the offices of GOZ and "Ayaka Security" were located. When he opened the door to the building, Yukito bowed his head.

"Are you going back to GOZ?"

"No, my room is next to that store."

"Eh?"

When he unintentionally let out a surprised voice, Ibuki looked at Yukito and smiled a little.

"Don't worry. I only have the bare minimum, but I don't have trouble sleeping. If you're hungry, go to GOZ and eat something."

"No, I'm not hungry anymore for today..."

It was a painful level of satiety. He even felt that he would be fine if he didn't eat anything for the whole day tomorrow.

Yukito let out his voice because Ibuki lived next door to GOZ, in other words, just below the "Ayaka Security" office, and it felt like he really only saw the house as "a place to sleep". Therefore, it was much like Ibuki to live a life dedicated solely to exterminating the Aramitama. They boarded the vintage elevator in the multi-tenant building and descended on the fifth floor. A bright voice could be heard from the other side of GOZ's door, and he could sense that the members of "Ayaka Security" or other customers were making a fuss, but Ibuki turned his back on them and opened the door at the back of the room runner.

Ibuki's room was as drab as he had said and as Yukito imagined.

The only furniture is a bed, a couch and a simple coffee table. There was not a single cooking utensil in the small kitchen. He had a feeling that this person was running a restaurant so that he could hire Makita to cook his daily meals.

"Yukito, use the bed."

"Uh, no, I'm the one staying here, so I'll be on the couch..."

"Can you put a child to sleep on the couch? Sleep in a suitable place and grow up."

Perhaps, before this person, Yukito could still be a five-year-old somewhere.

When he suddenly thought about it, well, until he was five years old he lived in the same house as this person, like a family.

After taking a shower and brushing his teeth with a toothbrush he bought, he couldn't spend any more time in the empty room (it was impossible with Ibuki's personality and Yukito's skills to enjoy chatting) and he went to bed early.

Lying on his side as if to protect his belly from his swollen meat, Yukito stared at the couch. Ibuki was lying on his back on the couch and covered himself with a blanket. His long legs dangled over the edge of the couch.

"Yukito."

Ibuki yelled with his eyes closed. Yukito flinched a bit, wondering if he had been caught spying on him.

"Yes."

"Are there any drawbacks to living in Ayakashima?"

"No. Momoko-san is kind, Inou-san cares about me, and Jingi-san is a careless and troublesome person who always drinks alcohol, but... as my teacher, he teaches me various things. I think I'm living a much more pleasant life than I thought."

Kurama's name was consciously not mentioned. Yukito, who has only been on the island a short time, doesn't really understand the enmity between Ibuki and Kurama, but he does know that there is an extraordinary animosity between them. Kurama also lived as brothers in the past, but the distance between Yukito and Ibuki wasn't close enough to ask such a thing.

"It's alright then. If Yukito is alright, I'm sure my master will be happy."

Ibuki said that quietly, lying down with his eyes closed.

It's not like Yukito's feeling of weakness and fear towards Ibuki that he felt that day when they first met disappeared.

++++++++++

For Aka Ibuki, hospitality meant feeding him.

Ibuki has never flattered others. He therefore, he does not know how to please others.

However, rice is the source of human energy and the source of the body.

For Ibuki, giving it was the best expression of goodwill and a proof of respect.

"Eat."

He decided to have breakfast at GOZ. It's not cool, but it's made by Makita, so it's nice that it's flexible.

He placed a hamburger in front of Yukito. Ibuki ordered three thick burgers with cheese and tomato sandwiched between them.

Ibuki grabbed his own slice of the burger by pressing down on the bun and squashing it up and down. When he looked to the side of him, Yukito couldn't handle the tall burger and half collapsed as he ate it with all his might. It may be that he has little experience eating not only yakiniku but also burgers.

"Makita. Two full plates of fried chicken."

When he placed an additional order, for some reason, Makita gave him a concerned smile.

"Um. Is that for the boss?"

"Since there are two plates, one plate is for Yukito."

Yukito widened his eyes and looked at Ibuki.

"Ah, Ibuki-san, I still have the roast meat left over from yesterday..."

"What are you talking about? That's not true."

While thinking that he was the one holding back in a strange way, he signaled to Makita, "Let him eat the freshly fried stuff." Makita gave a slight shrug and headed for the counter.

For some reason, Yukito let out a low voice, "Hieh..."

He knows that Yukito has a feeling of rejection because of his way of doing things that he deviates from the principle of connection.

He has no desire to be understood.

It was unfair to Yukito, but he should learn and grow from Kurama's side. Yukito is the legitimate successor of his father, his teacher.

The most Ibuki can do for Yukito is to feed him when he visits him like this.

After breakfast, he took Yukito to Ichinoshima Station with Makita.

"Come back when you feel like it."

"Yes..."

Yukito, who was wobbling with his arms covering his stomach for some reason, he was put on the sea train and fired.

As he looked at the tail of the train in the distance, when he was thinking that he could treat him well, Makita muttered to his side, "Maybe I should have given him stomach medicine..."

#ayaka #yanagi yukito #jingi sagawa #amamiya momoko #kurama haruaki #ibuki aka #inou sanji

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 2 years

Text

destiel!steddie brainrot pt. 2

Here's the second part to this destiel/spn themed au (first part here, which has updated and made a bit longer!!)~!

i'm brainstorming titles for this, may keep going with little snippets from this universe as they come to me and post them to ao3 too :)

tw/cw: mentions of suicide and suicidal ideations below; nothing described/graphic, but mentions of characters wanting to/who have died by completing suicide (has to do with this part's monster of the week and Real Steve's story from the first part!). and said monster of the week originally died by overdose; again, not said directly, just alluded to. please read with caution!

Do two different cases of vengeful spirits make him lucky? Or unlucky?

First it was the damn ‘witnesses’ that Steve told him were part of the demons’ (yes, those demons, but from what he gathered from Steve, were different on the whole from crossroads demons) plan to release Lucifer.

“Ah, Lucifer. Of course.”

“Why do you sound unbelieving?”

“Oh I believe you, I’m just surprised that I’m not surprised by it. Because of course, angels, demons, hell, Lucifer is a given. He’s like THE angel, right?”

“He was the first of my father’s children and the first to fall from heaven if that is what you mean.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m getting at.” Eddie goes to pull his hand through his hair, which gets stuck on his rings and on his hand in general because somehow he forgot that he’d put it up about five minutes earlier.

Now, after dealing with those motherfucking ghosts, helping Wayne put together a pyre for one of his good hunter friends who was killed by her own ‘witness’, they got word of a long string of suicides at a high school in a small Indiana town that had the kids’ parents convinced it was some sort of pact.

“Y’know, I grew up here.” Wayne says as they pass the ‘Now Entering Hawkins’ sign.

“Really?”

“Yep. Good ol’ Hawkins, Indiana. Surprised we haven’t been through here yet, there was always weird shit happening here when I was a kid.”

It’s late morning when Eddie’s van rumbles to a stop outside the motel.

“Boy, we really need to get you a new set of wheels if you’re gonna keep pretending to be a professional at anything.”

“What’s wrong with my baby??”

“Ed, you’re about to put on a suit and pretend to be a professional that works with children, and you’re gonna pull up in an late 70s panel van. What do you think is wrong with your baby?”

“...okay, you’ve got a point. You gotta new set of wheels for me at that junkyard of yours then, old man? I’m not exactly flush with cash.”

Wayne thinks for a moment. “I think I might, got it from a hunting buddy of mine after his brother died.”

Eddie just nods, “Whatever you say, Wayne, now c’mon lets get changed and get to the school.”

This time, they’re pretending to be mental health counselors sent to work with the families of the students who’ve passed. The two of them get through a few interviews each, but it’s one of the students’ little sister that has the first inkling of what they are really dealing with. ‘Best thing about young minds,’ Eddie will tell Wayne later, ‘they are sensitive to, and open to, way more than adults are.’

He and Wayne are in this one together, last one of the siblings at the school, and the snarky redhead calls out her mom’s practiced answer of ‘I never saw anything wrong’, calling her out for never being around and putting the pressure of being the parent to her.

Eddie looks at the young girl, then back to her mother. “Ms. Mayfield, may I have a word with Max here, alone?”

She looks unsure, so he continues “We’ll be right here, you can be on just the other side of the door and watch us the whole time, I promise.”

Ms. Mayfield nods her head shakily, and stands, Wayne accompanies her out, to give her some semblance of security.

“So, Max, Max right?” She just eyeballs him incredulously. “I’m going to just start talking, and you stop me if I’m way off base, ‘kay?” She looks away, but doesn’t say anything to the contrary.

“I think you know the pattern already, that you know this isn’t just some stupid pact, huh? I think you know who may be a target next; that if this thing, this whatever it is, can wheedle its way under your brother’s skin, that it may get to your…” He looks her over “...friends next. Right? Obviously no one in particular, just your friends, huh?” Her head whips back to him and he leans back in the seat he was given, knowing he’s got her pegged. She’s worried about a crush or a boyfriend, or something. He can tell.

The look she has tells him she’s already putting seemingly impossible pieces together on what he and Wayne are doing here.

“Whatever it is, it’s a bully. It’s going after whoever it thinks it can sink its claws in. Like it’s finding those with the biggest insecurities and driving them to their deaths.”

“You’re very astute, you know that, don't you.”

“Duh.”

“What do you think it is then, Red?”

“My friends have been calling it Vecna.”

Eddie’s brain stalls. “H-how do you know that name?”

“Ah, so you’re a nerd too, huh?”

“Your friends play D&D.” Eddie breathes; Max just smirks at him, but her face falls just as quickly and that just won’t do. “Hey, don’t worry Red, my uncle and I got this covered. We’ll get this bastard taken care of.” And he means every word. Not one shred of this motherfucker is going to lay a finger on this girl’s friends as long as he has anything to do with it.

She looks down at her feet, “Please hurry,” she mumbles “I can’t lose them too.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but she’s up off the little couch lightning fast and heading to the door. He shoots up to follow, “Thank you Ms. Mayfield,” He says when he exits. “She will be just fine. She’s just worried about her friends too.”

“Thank you.” She says, still a bit out of it as her eyes follow Max down the hall.

“Just make sure she knows you’re there for her, and get some more permanent help for the two of you, real help, not just us temp guys.” Wayne smiles at her.

All she does is nod, then moves to follow her daughter.

“What’dja find out, Ed?”

“Super-powered, cartoonishly evil, bully of a ghost named after a D&D villain?”

—-

He and Wayne split up after that, Wayne goes back to the motel to whip up some extra salt rounds for them, and Eddie heads to the Hawkins Library to do some research on deaths in the area.

After some searching, he comes across Jason Carver. Seemingly the small town’s golden boy tragically killed by an overdose. He seems to match the fleeting glimpses that all the witnesses to the students’ deaths were able to give. Cropped blond hair, 6’2” or so, a flash of green that seemed like it could be a Hawkins High varsity jacket.

The dealer that gave him the drugs was found guilty of manslaughter and he got 10 years and a permanent shun from the town. He, Fred, still lived in Hawkins though, in the Forest Hills trailer park.

Eddie calls Wayne at the hotel, “Whatcha find out, Ed?”

“Looks like a good contender for a high school bully ghost, does the name Jason Carver mean anything to you?”

Wayne scoffs, “Sure does, that kid was horrible to me and my buddies back in the day.”

“Not a golden boy?”

“Didn’t say all that. I think I know who we can talk to.” Eddie can hear him shuffling around and the jingle of keys.

“Is it a man named Fred Jameson, lives out at F–”

“Forest Hills, yeah. Be there soon for ya.”

“How’d you– aand he’s gone.” he says into his receiver to only silence.

—

“Of course I knew where you were talking about Eddie, I grew up in this park, Fred was one of my best buds back in the day.”

Wayne pulls into Fred’s drive, behind a well-loved red pickup. The rattle of Eddie’s van must’ve alerted Fred to their arrival, because he met them outside before they could even get all the way out of their seats.

“I thought I recognized that rattle, still haven’t hocked that hunk of junk yet, eh Munson?” Fred folds Wayne into a hug, giving him a couple of pats on the back for good measure.

“Hey, that’s my baby you’re talking about.” Eddie grumbles.

“Damn, that you, Teddy?”

“Teddy? Who in the hell–”

“Yeah, he really looks like Margie, huh?” Wayne crinkles a smile at Eddie’s disgust at Fred's nickname.

“You knew my mom?”

“Of course boy, I knew you both back when you were just a little bean. There were a good few months there, after you were born, that Margie and you were living with Wayne.”

Eddie doesn’t really know what to say to that, but luckily Wayne gets right to it.

“Fred, I hate to do this to ya, but we’re here on business.”

The other man’s face falls sickly and pale in an instant.

“I shoulda known you’d be comin’ ‘round. What do you need to know?”

“It’s about Jason Carver.” Eddie winces at how much worse the man’s expression twists.

“C’mon D, you can’t’ve believed that suicide pact shit.”

“I never believed it. He’s been…” Fred pauses, seeming to look for the right words “He’s been haunting my dreams. Nightmares really, telling me all the things he did to those poor kids. Says it was my fault.”

Wayne and Eddie share a look. “D, it wasn’t yo-”

“Sure it was, Wayne. I should’a just stood up to him and said I ain't had shit.”

“You know what he would’a done to ya if you had.”

“Well now there’s six lives lost, not just one!” Fred snaps. “If I had just stuck with it, told him I couldn’t get it until Reefer Rick was back, I wouldn’t’ve gotten that bad shit, he would still be around, and so would those five other kids!”

“Fred–”

“I gotta get going, Wayne, y’all should too.” He cuts him off “Good t’see ya Teddy.” and with that, he turns and heads back inside his trailer.

The two Munsons are frozen in Fred’s driveway for a moment longer, before they turn back to their van. They drive in silence on their way back to the motel. It’s only when they’re parked in front of their room again that Eddie says something.

“Fred’s next.”

Wayne’s face sets itself further into its frown. “I think you’re right.”

—-

They go out to the graveyard as soon as night falls, finding Carver’s grave easy enough. They run a salt line around the site, and start digging together, but Wayne’s back has him dropping off only about two feet deep.

It’s just after Wayne settles himself onto the handle of his shovel to rest for a bit when they hear something crunching through the dark towards them.

Eddie hops up immediately, Wayne tossing him one of their shotguns. He skirts off between the taller granite and marble stones around him, getting closer to the intruder’s unskilled footsteps.

He peeks around the base of a way-too-large angel statue and whips up his gun. He’s face to face, shotgun to pistol, with a petite woman in a high ponytail.

This woman looks human enough, definitely not ghost-y, probably just wondering why she just caught a couple guys grave-robbing. Better safe than sorry, though, so Eddie tests her.

“Christo.” There’s no extreme reaction to the word, only confusion. “Who are you and what are you doing here?? It’s not safe!”

“I should ask you the same thing! Are you the one causing all these deaths?” her grip on her handgun does not waver.

“Jesus H. Christ, I don’t have time for this.” Eddie says under his breath, dropping his shotgun and walking back to the grave. “Hawkins High has a ghost in it. We’re trying to kill it before it can convince someone else to do it to themselves.” He hops back down into Jason’s grave and tosses his shotgun to the girl who’d followed behind him, gun still raised. Smart. Eddie thinks, then also notices she was able to cross their salt line easily. Human, then.

She catches it easily, blinks once, and says, “Fine, say I believe you. Now how in the hell do you kill a ghost, also how is a ghost causing these deaths?” she un-cocks her revolver and tucks it back in her waistband.

Eddie’s about to answer when the loose hairs around his face are blown into his mouth with an invisible flap of wings “Eddie, I need to speak with you.”

The girl goes pale at the sight of Steve.

“Steve?”

“Yes. Do I know you?” the angel cocks his head at the absolutely bewildered woman.

Eddie has to look between Steve’s confused face and the woman’s heartbroken one a couple times before it clicks.

“Are you kidding me!? You’ve just been using your vessel’s real name? That’s fucked up.” Eddie says around the last few hairs stuck in his mouth.

“It was as good a name as any.”

“Uhm hello? What is happening right now? You’ve been missing for months.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Eddie interrupts, “Eddie, Wayne, you apparently know Steve,” He gestures to the three of them. “Shoot anything that is not us, while I salt and burn this sucker.”

To Eddie's surprise, she steels herself with a roll of her tiny shoulders and cocks the shotgun in her hand, immediately turning her back to him and watching for that damn Jason.

“So, how does a shotgun protect against a ghost?”

“Our own creation, the buckshot is replaced with rocksalt.” Wayne explains, not turning from his vigil.

“Salt repels ghosts?”

“Amongst other things.” Eddie shovels up another pile of dirt. “Steve, my man, I know you needed to talk to me about something, but can you maybe help with this?” Eddie looks at the beautiful man through his bangs, sweaty despite the November chill.

“How would you like me to help, Eddie?”

Eddie continues shoveling, “Well, there’s another shovel up there, otherwise do you maybe have some special grave-digging angel powers I don’t know about?”

“Angel powers, what are you–” the girl starts as Steve lifts his hand and snaps his fingers.

Eddie’s suddenly standing above a completely cleared out grave, un-sweaty, hair pulled back neatly again from the shambles his bun had been in when he’d started digging, shirt straightened, and his jacket back on. Both shovels are sticking out of the pile of soil nearby.

“Wow..” Eddie breathes.

“Damn, why didn’t you show up sooner? Could’ve saved myself the stress of watching Ed do all that work..” Wayne deadpans to the angel.

“Can it, old man, now help me lift the lid off this thing.” Eddie bites back at his uncle, and jumps back down into the grave. “Stevie, watch her back, make sure Jason doesn’t come barreling in.”

“Her back is fine, Eddie.”

“That’s not what I–you know what, thanks Steve, now watch the opposite side of the grave that she is and make sure Jason doesn’t sneak up on us. Stop him if he does.”

“Oh..” Steve’s voice is quiet at that; he’ll learn eventually.

Eddie helps Wayne climb down and they get to work prying up the coffin lid.

It’s simple enough work after that, salt, fuel, torch, burn.

Except it never is when you want it to be.

As soon as the first grain of salt hits Jason’s crumbling body, there’s a wail from above them.

“Every time..” Wayne grumbles.

“Everything okay up there?” Eddie calls.

“Yes, we can see him, but he can’t cross the lin–oh shit.” the girl says.

Fuck, he should’ve known this’d happen. Jason has been torturing the poor sensitive souls at his old high school and has thrown things and people. He should’ve known he’d be strong enough to blow a crack through the salt ring.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Damn, why’d he think it’d be okay to leave a random girl that just happened to walk up and what is basically a baby in a yellow sweater to defend against something this strong??

Eddie scrabbles up the inside of the grave out of sheer will, and Wayne tosses one of their pry bars up to him.

“Keep shooting him to keep him back, we just need to stall him while Wayne makes sure he burns!”

Steve and the woman–damn, he really should’ve asked her name–nod at him, and Steve suddenly has some long silver stake looking thing in his hand.

“Steve! Silver wont work on him, it has to be iron or salt!” Eddie tosses his crowbar to the angel, who catches it easily, turning back to take a swipe at Jason who’d come up from behind him.

Eddie snatches up Wayne’s salt rifle and takes the third section of the circle, willing the fire to burn faster.

Their new party member seems to be holding her own. She’s found their spare cartridges and makes sure they’re in reach while she keeps aim at the poltergeist’s head.

He only comes at her once, and she fires. That keeps him away long enough for the body in the coffin below to burn enough, banishing him from the mortal plane for good.

Finally, Eddie can relax. They watch as Jason burns down to nothing. “Are you a hunter?” Eddie asks the woman.

“I’m assuming you’re not talking ‘hunter’ in the traditional sense?”

Eddie smirks at her, shakes his head, “You’d be correct.”

“Then no. I have been trying to figure out what’s been happening here for a little while now; I heard there were a couple guys running around asking weird questions so I followed you out here. And NOW I want to know what’s going on with not-Steve.” she directs to Eddie, then turns to said Steve. “Robin is going to be so pissed at you.”

Steve opens his mouth to respond but Eddie cuts in before he even thinks about it “His girlfriend?”

She scoffs, “As if; she’s his best friend.” She looks at Steve with sad eyes, “And Dustin too.”

“Dustin?” Steve cocks his head to the side again. This time it seems like there’s sadness behind his confused look.

“Okay, dinguses, sounds like thi’should be a conversation held over a good meal, not over a fried corpse.” Wayne cuts in. “Name’s Wayne Munson.” He holds out one dirty, time-gnarled hand to the girl.

She smiles and takes it readily, “Nancy Wheeler, sir.”

“None’a that now, Wayne is jus’ fine.”

“Stevie, would you be a dear and fill that back in for us?” Eddie sighs, feeling the adrenaline dropping out of his body, fast.

Steve nods once and snaps his fingers. The hole is refilled and the salt line is gone. The three of them are also cleaned up and straightened out.

“Thanks, Angel, now let's go get some burgers, gotta get our energy back.”

“I do not need to consume anything to replenish my energy.” Steve’s cocks his head.

“I know you don’t, big boy,” Eddie pats him on the shoulder, taking the spare shotgun from Nancy and heading back down to his van.

“I am not much bigger than you in this form, Eddie.” Steve deadpans, as usual, then actual curiosity colors his tone “Have you seen my true form?”

“Can’t say I have, are you much bigger than Steve?” Eddie can feel the double meanings closing in.

“My true form is approximately the size of your Chrysler Building.”

Eddie trips over a divot in the soil. Definitely not over his own feet at that implication.

“Oh, definitely a big boy.” He manages to say, turning to smolder at Steve (What? It’s not like the angel knows the nuance of human facial expressions..) but catches Wayne’s disgusted face and Nancy’s fully amused one (hand over mouth to keep from laughing), over Steve’s adorable confused expression.

“Yes, that is what I am inferring. Eddie, are you alright? Your face is flushing.”

Nancy, the jerk that she is, bursts out laughing.

“Shut it, Jerk!”

“Don’t you call me a jerk, Bitch!” she calls back easily.

He grins. Damn, having her around is going to be fun.

—--

“Okay, lemme get this straight.” Eddie says around a mouthful of fries. “You used to date Steve, this Robin chick is his best friend–”

“Platonic soulmate, correct.”

“Right, that, and Dustin is his brother.”

“That’s the best description, yes.”

“So what did you think happened to Steve?”

Eddie sees Steve’s mouth open and claps his hand, that’s not full of burger, over the angel’s mouth, who looks at him with as much anger as he’s learned to express in these couple months on earth. It’s not much.

Nancy gives them a weird look, but starts speaking. “Robin just told me that he drove off one night, one of his bad nights. I don’t know the full extent of what makes a good or bad night, but Robin insists he had been getting better….

“There’s not much more after that, Robin knew where to start looking when he goes off on his own like that, and she found his BMW out at the quarry. Of course, she thought the worst, but they searched every inch of the bottom and no Steve. It was like he disappeared into thin air.”

Eddie nods sadly to himself, thinking as comforting of thoughts he could muster upwards to where Steve had said Real Steve had been brought. Damn, this religious shit being real is really throwing him for a loop. “Nancy, I—EW WHAT THE FUCK??!”

He whips his hand back from Steve’s mouth, now slick with spit. He looks at him incredulously, wiping his palm on his thigh, but his face falters at the absolute dopey look on the angel’s face. Stone-cold blank still, as usual, but his tongue is hanging out between his lips.

Fuck, he’s cute. Damn it! No! Bad Eddie! He’s dead! The real him!

“Where in the hell’d you learn that?”

“The angels have watched humans for a long time, one would pick up a couple things.” He shrugs. Like actually shrugs. “I thought this might get you to remove your hand.”

Eddie doesn’t have a response for that.

“Nancy, Steve was–”

“Wait! Hold on, Stevie, you don’t know this is something she wants to hear.” Eddie murmurs.

“She does; She said as much back at the graveyard. Do you not remember?” Steve retorts in a normal volume.

“Steve. These things are difficult for humans. They’re called emotions. At least ask her first.”

He nods once, still seeming to be confused. “Nancy, you want to know what happened to Steve, correct?” Eddie elbows him, and he feels like concrete against his arm. Steve looks at him confused again, but seems to get what he’s trying to get at. “It may be difficult to hear..?”

Eddie nods, and Steve turns back to Nancy.

She just looks between the two, confused as all hell. “Uhm, yes?”

“Your Steve did not wish to be of this world any longer.”

Eddie throws his hands up in exasperation. Well, there goes being sensitive about it.

Nancy’s eyes are wide. “...Ah.”

“He offered his body as a vessel, and I brought him to my father’s kingdom of heaven.”

“Oh…Steve..”

“He is being well looked after, I promise. If he would like to return when my mission is complete here, he has the option, I swear it.”

Eddie thinks Nancy is going to be more upset at that, but she just smiles sadly, and nods. “I should call Robin.”

Eddie splutters, “No! No, bad idea Nance!” She’s out of the booth and at the door before he can even say her name. “Damnit, remind me to not sit against the wall next time.”

“Okay, Eddie.” Steve nods.

“Dude! Move! I gotta stop her! Or do you want to explain to this person too why you aren’t her best friend.” Eddie shoves against the shoulder closest to him.

Steve blinks at him once and is suddenly outside the booth, leaving Eddie to fall onto the bench where the angel had just been.

He scrambles up (finally) and heads to the door, only to meet Nancy there, already coming back in from calling this Robin character.

“She’ll be here in about three minutes. Tops.” She grins.

“Jerk.” Eddie grumbles and follows her back to their booth.

“Bitch.” she retorts happily.

He slumps back down into his spot in the booth, wracking his brain about what to tell her.

“Eddie, would you like me to go?”

He snaps his head up to the angel “Hell no! She’s coming here to see you, you gotta be here for that!”

Steve blinks once, then his eyes dart to the door.

“Don’t you even think about i–”

“I will return momentarily.” And with another soft brush of wind and feathers, he was gone.

“That absolute mother fu–”

“So, tell me about this hunting thing.” Nancy says, and tosses a fry into her mouth.

Notes:

Edancy sibling vibes?? Jerk?? Bitch??

Jason having Vecna powers = vengeful spirit in spn land

Wayne calls his friend "D" 'cause, y'know, Fred > Freddy > D

In my head, this is modern AU too so maybe Wayne and his friends dealt with upside-down stuff back in the day and maybe possibly Nancy and current day party have seen some shit too (that's why Nancy's basically unbothered about there being a ghost problem in Hawkins now, too)?

Bobin and Dustin (maybe more?) in the next part!

lastly, i haven't watched spn in what must be a decade now, so continuing on may not follow the show, but just the spn vibes.

Part 3 here! | NOW ON AO3

#destiel #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #dean winchester #castiel #bobby singer #spn #st #stranger things #supernatural #destiel!steddie #spn au

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aries-writingblog · 2 years

Text

Enemy Fire: 5

Summary: There’s a new kid in town, and she’s got a city to usurp.

Pairing: Jason Todd x F. Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: arson, mild threats, language,

AN: photos from Pinterest

Yn grunted, tossing the final empty bottle of oil to the side. She had spent at least half an hour amassing a pile of wood in the front yard. The trail leading straight to the grand pièce de résistance.

The sun was rising. She had been at it all night. All over the south end of Gotham.

This was the last one. The final fire to set.

And she had chosen quite the extraordinary setting for this one.

A two story home, not far from Crime Alley in the Narrows. One of Hood’s properties. All the fires she had set in the hours prior had been on Red Hood’s properties.

Only this time was a little different.

With all the other properties, she had meant damage. She set fire to the buildings and any other accompanying structures nearby. A few of the unlucky night watchmen who didn’t run, had become casualties.

But here? Standing in front of a house where she knew women were inside— women who hadn’t done anything but fight to survive. Who had fought their way to living where they were?

A message needed to be sent. The scraps of wood and other flammable objects she had amassed as fuel all piled up, soon would be spelling letters of smoke and hellfire.

If casualties needed to happen… well, women would have the sense to run from the fire instead of fight it.

Besides, she had intentionally given them a heads up with her quiet endeavors. Piling fuel to the pyre instead of lighting the home itself.

That seemed mercy enough.

She wouldn’t have guessed Red Hood owned two brothels in the city. She could see the warehouses and shit bars and safe houses, but brothels? Really?

Then again, he was a crime lord of Gotham. He had taken over his predecessor’s properties. And lost some. Black Mask had several pieces that Red Hood had lost— or given up.

She supposed that evil and good weren’t so mutually exclusive.

Exhaling the deep breath she had taken, YN called to the pit of fire that nestled in her chest. Warm against her heart, roiling against the cage it was in.

The flames flickered to life in her palm almost instantly. She stared at the warm ball for a moment.

How many times had she stood at that intersection? How many times could she have spared a life, instead of taking one?

How many times could she have stopped her hand from being forced?

If this was her acting on her own free will, what did her actions say?

Eh… fuck it.

She touched her finger to the puddle of oil— orange flames igniting, a bluish hue at the base.

Red Hood needed to lose something— everything. He needed to be weakened. Isolated. Panicked.

Or even just angry.

From what she heard, he could get so distractingly angry.

It was the perfect chink, the most beautiful flaw in his armor.

“Hey!”

YN swung around, her hand instinctively flying up, blocking the aluminum bat flying at her face.

A very disgruntled brunette stood in a wide stance, ripping her bat away and swinging again.

“No one sets our house on fire!” She growled, aiming lower.

YN side stepped and easily ripped the bat away. She tossed it, leveling her gaze with the brunette’s. The woman seemed to be emboldened instead of frightened— straightening her shoulders and tipping her chin.

Protective.

Yn’s eyes slid to the left; The front door was wide open, the porch crowded with several women. Who all looked equally pissed off.

She hummed, a small smirk rising to her face.

Finally, she thought, someone with some guts around this city.

“Tell Hood he has twenty four hours to meet me. Alone. He’ll know where to find me.” She spoke low enough for only the woman to hear.

“If I don’t?” She demanded, keeping her spine straight and her shoulders squared. Glaring at the pyromaniac on her front yard.

YN smiled— a soft, barely there, full of promised threats, smile. Her tongue ghosted out, wetting her lips. She leaned in close, reveling in the misguided fear as the woman leaned back.

“Then I’ll find him and it’ll be on my terms what I do with his body.”

The woman swallowed, though her eyes never left the domino mask. The determination never wavering.

YN turned on her heel, marching right past the fire on her way out of the gate.

Cristy pushed her fear aside as the woman escaped (a narrow escape, at that). Shaking herself from her stupor, she turned to the women standing behind her on the porch.

“Someone call Jason.”

Bruce frowned, watching the screens flicker. Live footage of multiple fires in Gotham City. Firefighters and police crawled over the scenes; Ambulances and EMT’s carried out survivors. The ME’s team carried black bags.

The attacks seemed connected, all the damage was done to a single person’s property. All arson.

On the heels of a victim being burned alive at the docks, Bruce wondered about how well his son was handling his territory. It seemed there was a new nuisance wreaking havoc.

The door’s to the elevator opened, Dick stalked out and into the Batcave. Bruce flicked over to the newest scene: a house completely engulfed in flames. He recognized it as one of Jason’s old safe houses.

“Another one?” Dick asked, tossing his Nightwing mask to the table.

He plopped down into the desk chair, propping his elbows on the arm rest, pressing his fingers to his temples.

He had gone out to investigate the second fire, only to be directed to the fourth and then the fifth.

The smell of smoke still lingered on his suit— the sight of bodies on stretchers stained his eyelids.

“They’re lighting up all over the south end.” Bruce confirmed, turning the volume down. He leaned against the table, facing Dick.

“Has he called in?” Dick asked.

Bruce shook his head.

“Jason’ll never admit when he’s in over his head.”

Dick leaned his head back against the chair, his brows furrowed. That sounded a lot like ‘we can take over and handle this’.

Bruce had the best of intentions, especially when it comes to his children. But sometimes, Dick noticed, he overstepped his boundaries.

And Jason had very distinct and very heavily enforced boundaries.

“What if he has it handled?” Dick questioned, lifting an eyebrow.

“And if he doesn’t? You’d rather take that chance?”

Dick’s mouth closed, his lips pursing. He had gotten so far in repairing the rips between himself and Jason. He didn’t want to risk that for a suspicion.

But… Jason was prideful. He would never call for help. Not from them. Not anymore. And he couldn’t bare to see his brother hurt again. He couldn’t do it again.

“I could call the Titans in.” He offered. Bruce shook his head again, standing straight.

“No need.” He pushed himself away and toward the doors.

“He’s gonna be pissed.” Dick blurted, spinning his chair around to follow his mentor with his eyes. Bruce stalled, keeping his eyes low to the ground, his back to him.

“I’d rather him be pissed, than dead.” Bruce decided, boarding the elevator and closing the doors.

Dick exhaled, swallowing the trepidation in his throat.

“Not so sure about that.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x f!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #enemy fire

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xenonmalachite · 2 years

Text

TW: (alien) blood

image under cut. putting image ID up here so you know what is going on and you can decide for yourself if you wanna see. there’s also a short story under the cut. not gonna say much else about it other than I'm not dead and i am just in assignment purgatory rn. but this is a good thing that’s gotten me from my art block so i hope you enjoy [image ID:

a drawing of the artist’s rendition of Crosshairs holding his hands up with a soft but slightly confused look on his face in a scrapyard. a scar on his face is dripping energon/blood. the artist’s oc, Truss, stands in the panel below in the same scrapyard from a different angle and wields a wrench. she’s crying, scared.

dialogue reads as follows Crosshairs: hey. hey. easy, kiddo. I'm not gonna hurt ya Truss: STAY THE HELL BACK! End ID]

Scouting was Bumblebee's job, however, given a new hideout, it had to be shared to see if it would be eligible as a resourceful and safe base. Crosshairs hated that responsibility with a passion, but Loco Motion, his Conjunx, gave him a nudge to just do it this once and he can stay by and guard next time if this place didn’t work out. He obliged with a huff. He was tasked with the east area. There seemed to be a lot of used and dead technology in that area. Perfect. If the place worked out then there was his escape. Blend in amongst the tech and everyone will stay out of your way.

It wasn’t until mid afternoon did he catch something unusual. At first it was a clicking sound. He assumed at first it was rats or bugs and thought about asking Cade to hire an exterminator. But then... was that the sound of a music box? Crosshairs never believed in ghosts, so there was one explanation. Someone was there. He was on high alert when the music stopped. He stepped closer to the source to investigate so he knew what to tell the others.

One more twist he didn’t expect... was a youngling cybertronian. She was close to about 11-12 if she were a human. She wasn’t at an age where she could transform, not on her own at least. Crosshairs didn’t have time to fully process what was going on when she spotted him. She grabbed a drill and aimed it. She pulled the trigger and the drill bit fired from it. Cross was very unlucky in that it hit him, close to the optic. He let out a yelp and stumbled back in surprise

He wiped the energon bleeding from the drill bit hitting him as he got a few seconds to ponder the situation. There’s a youngling here with 1 of 2 options. 1, She was with an adult and that adult would be coming back. or 2, The youngling was by herself.

The youngling fiddled for a weapon, being “out of ammo”. She started to cry in panic, but was more focused on finding a weapon then sobbing. Cross piped up with a comment “You’ve got an aim on ya, I'll tell ya that” He said.

The youngling then let out as much of a roar as she could as she lifted up a massive wrench, wielding it like a battle axe. She started to swing at him. Crosshairs jumped back in surprise, hands up in surrender. He saw her panic and fear. She didn’t hesitate to attack. He took a better look at the area and made a chilling discovery, at least to him. There was no evidence of an adult around. “Hey. Hey. Easy, kiddo. I'm not gonna hurt ya” He told her, softening his voice before she took another swing at him again.

Then she spoke “STAY THE HELL BACK!” She shouted. There was a slight accent to the Cybertronian reverberations in her voice. While she spoke English, there was still the undertones and reverberations from her voice that communicated a possible origin. And hers were from Caminus. She’s too far from home. “Get back!” She growled in warning.

“I'm not going to hurt you” Cross repeated. “I want to help you”. This wasn’t like him but this kid seemed to be afraid for her life... or something. If she was afraid of something, it’s likely she may have encountered the TRF. And a kid being face to face with a TRF solider didn’t sit right with him.

The youngling threw the wrench which he caught. She froze before running behind a pile of junk and hiding. Cross sighed. He turned his back to the pile and sat down, taking out a small medical kit to treat his wound.

The young cybertronian walked out of hiding slowly. Cross still kept his back to her, not wanting to scare her. It must have been a long time since she’s seen a grown up. She sat down with her back to him too, seeing he was not a threat.

“Where did you get that drill?” He asked her

“I made it.” She answered

“Made it? You mean you rigged up a drill to act as a gun? That’s incredible! Genius even! You’re talented. I'll give you that.” Cross told her with a smile, trying to appear not threatening. “Your parents teach you to do that?”

The youngling shook her head “No. I don’t have parents”

“Don’t have parents? What do you mean? Are they... with the Allspark? Did they leave you here?” Cross started asking

“I don’t know” The youngling shrugged. “I don’t remember my parents or how I got here. All I know is is woke up here and I live here now...Unless you want me to go?”

“No. Please stay.” Crosshairs told her, slowly moving to face her. “It’s too dangerous out there for you. You could stay with me and my team. I'm sure my conjunx wouldn’t mind having you around”

the youngling just shrugged in response with “Okay. I'll stay”. She shifted herself so she and Cross sat next to each other instead

There was a silence between them for a brief moment before Crosshairs asked “Do you remember anything about yourself at all?”

“I remember I like trains and fixing things. I like seeing how things work.” She responded “I also know my name”

“What is your name?” Crosshairs asked her

“Truss” She responded.

“Crosshairs” Cross responded, introducing himself, holding onto his goggles and dipping his head as if tipping a hat. It managed to bring a giggle out of Truss.

“You’re not wearing a hat.” Truss smiled, starting to feel safe.

Cross chuckled “No. But sometimes it’s fun to pretend. Slip out of reality for a bit. It never hurt anyone”

Truss stretched and laid down on her back, which Cross followed.

“Do you know how long you’ve been here, Truss?” Crosshairs asked.

Truss shook her head “No. I've never left here. I like it here. so much stuff. I never get bored”

“I can see why. You’ve got a talent” Crosshairs commented. “It’s getting dark. You got somewhere to recharge? Keep warm?”

Truss shook her head again “No. I just kinda move to a comfy spot wherever and just pass out there.”

Crosshairs sat up “Well that can’t be healthy. Tell ya what. You can stay with me and my conjunx until we re-group with our team in the morning, okay?”

Truss nodded as she got up and started to pack her things. Cross offered his hand when she was ready. Truss was hesitant but held it so she wouldn’t get lost. this was new but she was up for a new challenge in life. Hey, she woke up one day in a scrap yard with no memory of how she got there or her origins, this might as well happen.

Loco Motion was investigating something she thought was of use when her Conjunx Endura, crosshairs shouted her name. She looked up at his direction and was rendered speechless. There was Crosshairs... with a youngling in tow?

“Loco! honey! look what i found!” Cross called to his conjunx before picking Truss up. Truss giggled at being lifted high up, almost in the style of Lion King “Can we keep her?”

#tw blood #transformers crosshairs #crosshairs #bayverse crosshairs #tf crosshairs #bayformers #bayverse #bayverse transformers #transformers bayverse #tf oc #transformers oc #my art #malachite arts #maccadam #maccadams

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indoorfishs · 2 months

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ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ Introducing my... SELF INSERTS

꒰ Relapse ; 🕐 ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ her² ) The Boys ♡ Homelander Relapse is Homelander's girlfriend and co-worker. Her supe power revolves around rewinding time though she has more complex feats such as returning an object to it's past position. [ tw dead dove ]

꒰ Freita ; ⛓️‍💥 ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ him² ) Hunter x Hunter ♡ Kurapika Frieta is one of the few Kurta clan members left alive, her mother was kidnapped instead of being killed with the goal of having her fall pregnant. The man orchestrating it found a rare red eye dupplication glitch (forced birth.) She is unaware of her relations to the man who raised her until she crosses paths with Kurapika and her life unravels. [ tw dead dove, incest ]

꒰ Aemma II ; 🥚 ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ they² ) House of the Dragon ♡ Daemon + Rhaenyra She is the last born child of Viserys and Aemma Targaryen. Aemma, afraid of her husbands judgment upon finding out she gave birth to a girl, sent her away to be raised elsewhere under the guise of a miscarrige, with strict instructions to return her to the castle once Viserys had a son. Years after her death and Aegon's birth she was returned to the castle, bearing an unhatched dragon egg as proof of her lineage and idetity along with a letter from Aemma to her husband; 'I have given her my name, love her as you have loved me.' [ tw dead dove, incest ]

꒰ Anaïs ; 🛠️ ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ him² ) Five Nights at Freddys ♡ Steve Raglan Anaïs is Steve Raglan's step daughter. His intention was to make his secret identity more credible through marriage. He didn't even care about his own daughter, nonetheless some other man's kid, but something about her made her a usuable target in his eyes. She's a college + trade student who works part-time at Tealerland amusment park due to her dream of creating animatronics. [ tw dead dove, incest ]

꒰ Minsce ; 🦭 ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ him² ) Okegom ♡ Idate + Rocma She is a leopard seal-girl who lives on Iceberg Isle. She paractically runs her fathers fishing shop and resturant, spending most of her time out on the ice. Due to her nature, she has an incisive hunger for penguins and struggles not to butcher and eat those who are unlucky enough to live around her. She is Rocma's good friend and is Mafuyu's god mother due to her being a seal as well. [ tw dead dove ]

꒰ Ocelotte ; ⚰️ ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ hir² ) Elden Ring ♡ Any characters lol She is the spawn of Dragon Lord Placidusax and an Empyrean. I have a whole wiki formatted doc for her, there's too much info to even share here (╥﹏╥) [ tw slight dead dove? not really ]

꒰ Byleth ; 🗡️ ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ hir² ) Fire Emblem 3 Houses ♡ Claude This is less of a self-insert and more of just my identitiy in a different world! More soulbond related than selfship but technically counts as a self insert! [ tw none ]

꒰ Howl ; 🐺 ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ him² ) Zenless Zone Zero ♡ Ellen Same as above however the appearance I imagine isn't canon nor included in the game. Howl or Bleiz is a dog thiren that runs the news stan. Unlike most thiren she is able to go from dog-like, to a full blown dog, posing as a cute canine in order to bring in more business to afford her apartment. She met Ellen at a video game convention and it was love at first sight. [ tw agegap, ephebephilia ]

꒰ Agnieszka ; 💋 ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ her² ) Zenless Zone Zero ♡ Jane Doe + Seth Agnieszka, Agnes or Aggie for short, is a N.E.P.S artillery and explosives specialist. She's a akugyo yokai who's been good friends and roomates with Seth since their time at the academy. [ tw none ]

꒰ Minato ; 🎧 ꒱ 𐕣 she¹ her²) Persona 3 ♡ Akihiko I self insert as Persona 3's Femc! Apearance, story, and pretty much all else follows the canon timeline and game! Other characters from P3 would be considered platonic/friend f/os [ tw none ]

#╭ ꒰ 💉 ⁞ Loving. . .#tw dead dove

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noteguk · 3 years

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white lies | jjk | m

— summary; in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.

— contents and warnings; smut, fluff, very minor angst, poor attempts at humor, athlete!jungkook x reader, childhood best friends, fake dating, idiots to lovers, far too many movie references, a tiny bit of jealousy, jk is a football/soccer player, mentions of alcohol and drugs, the catastrophic event that is a frat party, jk is kind of a himbo, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, a lot of touching, dirty talk, fingering, grinding, jk has a big dick, praise, body worship if you squint, unprotected sex (don’t.), pulling out, very mild possessiveness, mid-sex confessions, the L word…, Jungkook wants to fuck you in his team jacket because his tastes are very singular and you wouldn’t understand it

— words; 13,3k

— author’s notes; I know what you’re thinking… and yes, every bad movie mentioned is real. Also, this is a self-aware cliche and 100% self indulgent. Have fun!

When people first found out that you and Jungkook were friends, you received a very predictable, repetitive sequence of reactions.

First came disbelief. It was the most comprehensible one, at least from your perspective, taking into consideration that you and Jungkook were completely different people. He was loud (sometimes too loud) and outgoing, probably knew at least ninety percent of the campus population by name and city of origin. Jungkook was warm, friendly, the type of guy that you’d confess all your worries to if given enough time. You, on the other hand, was more on the “colder” side — you weren’t as inviting with strangers, and didn't mind going through moments of awkward silence. Jungkook was a talker and you were a listener; he was a daydreamer and you were a brute realist: maybe that was why your friendship worked so well. But most people couldn’t really get it.

Second came the questions — the doubts, the sideway glances, even a few bitter comments if you were unlucky enough. Jungkook had kind of a reputation when it came to sleeping around, so most people jumped to the conclusion that either you were his favorite plaything (which might have been the most offensive thing you’ve ever heard) or that you were simply the rare one he had friendzoned because he didn’t want to fuck you (a big runner-up to that prize). Eventually, though, you settled their anguishes simply by saying that you knew each other ever since you were kids.

Which took you to the final phase: relief and acceptance. The ones who saw you as a threat instantly relaxed, and the ones who couldn’t understand why he would “waste his time” with “someone like you” quickly understood that it was a deep, innocent connection that he was just “too sweet to let go.” Obviously, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Truth was, it was kind of hard being friends with Jungkook. Mostly because the boy casted a light so strong that it was almost impossible not to stay in his shadow, but also because you always felt like you had to justify your existence every time he chose you instead of anyone else. You were the person he ran to hug once his team won; you were the one he ditched other people for, just to hang out with you. It made you insecure. And, yeah, there was also the fact that you had been madly in love with him for some time now, but that was unimportant.

Well, until he asked you to be his (fake) girlfriend, that was.

Jungkook, bless his heart, was never one of the brightest when it came to real-life situations. He could ace a test with no issue, but, when it came to reading the room, he was a lost cause — something a bit paradoxical when you realized how social he was, but, well, people probably thought his cluelessness was adorable. And that might also be the reason why he never caught onto your pathetic crush, but that was a different topic.

“Why the fuck would I do something like that?” You munched on your chips, eyes flickering over the TV screen. The two of you had made the terrible decision to hatewatch all the bad shark-themed movies you could find, and now you were suffering the brain-smoothing consequences. “Sounds like the dumbest plan in the world. And I don’t understand what you’d get out of that.”

He whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Jungkook had been trying to convince you for half a movie now, and he was running out of arguments. “I told you already,” he stressed, eyes locked to the white ceiling. With the living room completely immersed in shadows, the shades of blue and yellow from the television reflected off his face like a prism. “The boys have been teasing me because I could never hold a date.”

“And? That’s your problem.” You looked at him, meeting his desperate stare. “And, honestly, why did you even lie about it? It’s true, you know it.”

“You’re cruel.” Jungkook tugged the bag of chips off your hands, ignoring your complaints. “I have my reasons.”

You laughed. “Yeah, what is it again? Waiting for the right person?” You teased, watching as his frown only deepened, his cheeks puffed out as he angrily chewed. “Come on, Cinderella, snap out of that fairy tale. Have you stopped to think how many nice girls you let go because of that stupid mindset?”

“It’s not stupid,” he murmured, clearly irritated.

With a sigh, you shrugged. “Fine. It’s not.” You yanked the bag of chips away from him, slightly sad that it was almost finished. Unfortunately, your marathon had made you eat a lot more junk food than your body could probably handle, but that was a problem for the future you. Present you really wanted more chips. “I’m just bitter.”

“We can agree on that.” He smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes that prepared you for the worst. “What was it that those guys called you in high school?”

You pointed at him. “Don’t,” you warned.

But his smirk only grew, morphing into a full-blown (dazzling) smile. “Ice queen?” Jungkook tried.

You rolled your eyes, sinking into the couch. “It’s a dumb nickname, shut up,” you groaned, trying to focus on the shitstorm that unreveled on the television. There was a priest trying to exorcise the ghost of a demon shark, and that was a thousand times more interesting than recalling the nightmare that was high school. “It got even worse when Frozen came out.”

“Still gets to you, though.” Jungkook poked you on the shoulder, allowing himself one last laugh at your distress before striking once again. “So… wanna help me?”

Yeah, like that would have magically changed, you thought. “I already said no.”

Jungkook leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his palms. He was in anguish, but you couldn’t feel that sorry when he had caused that himself. “But I already told them we were dating,” he whined, defeated.

“Again, sounds like a you problem,” you said, throwing the empty bag of chips on the coffee table. “Just say that you panicked and made some shit up. Own up to it, you’re already a grown up.”

Jungkook shook his head. “I can’t, they’ll never believe me again.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Dragging this out won’t make it any better. You should tell them the truth,” you said, pausing for an instant. “Actually, I can’t see this ending well in, like, any possible scenario. Even Doctor Strange had better odds in Infinity War.”

The fact that you liked Jungkook was the key point that he didn’t have access to, but that was very clear inside your head. Even in the best possible outcome, in which no one doubted a single thing and everything magically went back to normal, you’d still have to live with that weight inside your chest. Sounds pretty fucking painful to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend when you were almost considering selling your soul to turn that into a real situation. And then to be done with it like it wasn’t nothing more than a business transaction, or a platonic favor for a good friend... that would just suck, to put it lightly.

Sadly, Jungkook wouldn’t give up so easily. “What if we, like, only do it tomorrow night?” He pressed on, turning to take a better look at you. He always looked so breathtaking, his gorgeous big eyes just staring at you like a cute dog pleading for a piece of meat. You could sense yourself starting to fold, and that was always a bad sign. “Just for a few of my friends to see us together, show that it’s the truth, and then I can just say that we didn’t work out and decided to stay friends.”

“But it’s not the truth,” you stressed, turning your head back to the television. You were starting to get pissed at the fact that you’d have to watch that movie again to try and make sense of what was happening. But you were also sad because you were both considering his request and suffering in advance because of its unavoidable consequences. “I don’t wanna be just another name in your list of conquests, Jungkook.”

Correction: you didn’t want to pretend to be one. You were fine with trying something out (for real) with Jungkook, even if you didn’t get a fairy tale ending. You just didn’t want to play with your own emotions — and probably induce some emotional trauma — because your best friend couldn’t own up to the fact that he lied about something (again).

And, yet, it was getting to you. Just like a vipers’ venom, it had started to spread inside your body, corroding the walls you had built up for yourself. Your therapist would rip you to shreds if she knew you were thinking like that, but maybe ignoring the only chance you’d have with Jungkook — real or not — would be the foolish decision there.

Besides, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? You could push your pride aside and help a friend during a time of need… and who knows, maybe get a couple kisses along the way? And just for one night? You could do that…

Back in the present, Jungkook was just now digesting your previous claim. “What? You’d never be just that,” he guaranteed, an expression of bewilderment plastered all over his obnoxiously handsome face. Every day was a new test from God, and you were failing miserably. “You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”

Ouch. That was a low hit. And worse? You knew that he didn’t say that with any malicious intent to manipulate you or anything — he genuinely meant it. Jungkook was such a sweetheart when it came to you, he’d stay up to help you with your projects; volunteer to take you out on an adventure when you were feeling down, even if he had to face the consequences of skipping practice later. He had done so much for you, and you couldn’t even push your feelings aside one time to help him out.

Your high school insecurities were starting to erupt, and you were thinking that maybe those dumb nicknames were right. Maybe you were kind of a cold-hearted bitch. Especially when your best friend/love of your life was pouting and begging you to help him and all you could do was to mock him.

Beside you, Jungkook deflated like the saddest balloon in the world, a long sigh leaving his lips. “You know what? You’re right, this is stupid,” he admitted, running one hand through his hair. You always wanted to do the same, it was so soft and puffy that you could get lost in it. Also, there was something about the tattoos on his arms, the veins of his hand, that just made you lose your mind. “I should just own up to it.”

Took you a couple seconds for your rational brain to catch up to your horny one, but it eventually did. “It’s okay, I’ll do it,” you told him. “Just one night.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes widened like a kid’s during Christmas morning, a beautiful smile overtaking his features. He jumped in your direction and, before you could even react, his strong arms were wrapping around you, pulling you into a warm hug. You were so fucked. “You’re the best! I owe you big time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll remember that.” You placed your hand on his forehead and pushed him away, ignoring both his whiny complaints and the quickening of your heartbeat. “Now back to our shark exorcism.”

Jungkook’s teammates didn’t get why the two of you were still friends.

As Jimin, the world’s most competitive striker once said, some things are so obvious that you just can’t ignore them unless you have a secret agenda. When it came to that specific subject, the obvious thing would be that Jungkook had an earth-shattering crush on you, and his secret agenda was the fact that he was too blind to see that it was mutual, so he decided to repress it until it asphyxiated him.

His teammates tried to warn him over and over again that you, in fact, were all heart eyes and chuckles when he came around, Namjoon even got close to creating an entire PowerPoint presentation about it, but all of it fell on deaf ears. Jungkook, in his blissful ignorance, just wouldn’t hear it. From where he was standing, there was just no conceivable way that his laughable childhood crush had any chance of being mutual.

Jungkook didn’t know much about psychology, though, because, if he did, he might have faced those emotions head-first instead of avoiding them until they started presenting themselves in different, slightly destructive ways. When you repress something, it doesn’t really go away, it just settles somewhere else, like squeezing a handful of slime. No matter how much he tried to get a hold of it, it still slipped between his fingers — made him cancel dates last minute to spend the night with you, convinced him to do the dumbest things just to make you happy.

And, now, in a weird projection of a personal fantasy, he was pretending to be your boyfriend.

In his defense, it wasn’t a machiavellian plan he had meticulously constructed: it just kind of happened. Jungkook wasn’t exactly a poster child when it came to being teased — after all, he was used to be being the best at practically everything — and, when his teammates all ganged up on him during their break, claiming that he just couldn’t get a girlfriend even if he tried, both his annoyance and the practice-induced exhaustion made him say that he was already dating someone.

“Yeah, right,” Hoseok had mocked, pressing a towel against his sweaty forehead. The changing room thankfully had a great ventilation system, combined with large windows, otherwise they would’ve died from the heat and the smell already. “Just say that you can’t take a joke and move on, Jeon. No need to lie about it.”

Taehyung barged in before Jungkook could get a word out. “Besides, we know there’s only one person that can fit inside your heart,” he said, watching as Jungkook’s eye twitched. “How’s ___ doing, by the way?”

“She’s fine,” he answered, monotone.

“Yeah? Are you gonna ask her out or what?” Jimin teased, his voice coming from beyond a row of lockers. “Or are we free to do that?”

In typical animal planet fashion, the locker room exploded in a roar of laughs and fragmented provocations, every guy trying to speak louder than the other. Jungkook felt himself shrink, his frown deepening as his heartbeat quickened. There was something burning at his insides, a mixture of shame and jealousy, and that was exactly what pushed those idiotic words out of his mouth.

“Actually,” he started speaking when the thunderous laughter diminished, turning around to place his bag back in his locker. “I’m dating ___.”

It was almost amazing how fast the room morphed into a crypt — the thick silence hitting Jungkook right in the face, weighing down and turning into guilt and worry inside his stomach. He was unable to look back and face his friends, instead pretending to be extremely interested in his bag’s zipper.

Why did he always do that? Why couldn’t he tell the truth for once in his life?

“That seems even harder to believe,” Taehyung was the first one to speak, the one brave soul that verbalized what they all were thinking. Simply as that, life returned to the locker room, and so did the sounds of his teammates laughing at him. “Just yesterday you were acting all nervous around her.”

Jungkook slammed his locker door shut, turning around with a determined expression. “Well, yeah, because I was planning to ask her to be my girlfriend,” he had never constructed a lie so fast before, but, even then, Taehyung didn’t look like he was buying it. “I’m serious.”

Which was probably the least trust-worthy thing he could say.

“Prove it, then.” Hoseok smiled, crossing his arms. “Call her right now.”

“I’ll do you better,” Jungkook didn’t hesitate — a terrible sign, he realized one heartbeat too late; it was never good when his mouth decided to take the lead, allowing for the words to flow out of him before they could be filtered by his logical brain. But Jungkook was competitive, both in the field and in his personal life, and he couldn’t stand the humiliation that came from both losing an argument and being caught in a lie. As ironic as that was. “I’ll take her to Saturday’s party and you can all see it with your own eyes.”

Jungkook was just buying himself some time, hoping that his charms would be enough to sweep you into his miraculous scheme before his teammates could realize something was off. Hoseok, of course, did not know that, but his expression showed that he wasn’t all too convinced either. “Sounds great,” he lowered his voice, looking at his friend up and down. “See you there, Jeon.”

Jungkook left the locker room with a crown of victory hovering over his head and a bright, prideful smile — one which shrunk and shrunk as his day progressed and he realized that there was no way in hell that you’d accept to be swept into his personal melodrama.

He had enough time between that conversation and the night at your place to go through all the stages of grief. In denial he found himself running from those cyclical thoughts, ignoring that it had happened in the first place — maybe it was all a big misunderstanding and his friends would let that situation go; maybe he didn’t have to sacrifice his friendship with you just to avoid being wrong about something. In anger, came anxiety, frustration at himself for being so dumb and impulsive, allowing for his ego to step in the way and shield him from reason. That one he suffocated with extra gym time and a consequential terrible cramp in his shoulder.

Soon enough came bargain and Jungkook was thinking that, if he were to be very lucky, he could convince his friends that you happened to be way too sick to go to the party that night, and that, weirdly enough, you two broke up the very next day and you didn’t want to talk about it ever. Maybe he could go through all that in secret, use all his brain power to construct an elaborate, moviesque plan to get him out of the ditch he had dug himself and no one would ever know of his dirty lies.

It was all for nothing, however — the depression stage materialized soon after, in the middle of his advanced calculus class, and Jungkook was practically imploding over the fact that he had managed to ruin everything between you two, and also between him and the rest of his team. That was it: not only would he lose his best friend (and perhaps the love of his life) but he would also lose trust and respect in the field.

Acceptance only reached him when Jungkook was on his way to your place, and he came to terms with the idea that he was already in deep shit, so he should at least try and change that. He would ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a bit — even if he was positive you’d laugh until you were out of breath and never let him forget about it — under the possibility that perhaps, you’d say yes.

Which, surprisingly, you did.

Now, Jungkook wasn’t particularly emotional when it came to most things — even in the field, he managed to control that side of him well — but there was something intense bubbling up in his stomach as he made his way back to his dorm after the movie was over; a laugh that hung somewhere between maniacal and desperate that he couldn’t hold back. That could be bad, really bad. Especially considering that he didn’t have the slightest clue how he would hold himself back from just vomiting out a fervent love confession the second that you kissed him.

Because that was supposed to happen, right? In a relationship, pretend one or not, people should kiss. He should act like your boyfriend, perhaps a fantasy that he had way too often, and still spare enough brain matter to remind himself that it was all fake. And that it was also all his fault.

As established, Jungkook was the president of the company of putting himself in extremely uncomfortable situations. And, when the night of the party arrived, he decided to screw himself even further by lending you his team jacket.

It was because it was cold, he tried to brainwash himself. It was because you were cold, because the night was cold, and not because he liked the view of you in it in the slightest. Or maybe because it was a bomb pumping his thorax full of pride and possessiveness; because it was making him believe, even for a second, that you two were part of a chimerical alternative universe in which you were together. Not at all. It was strictly business — the neighborly job of a worried best friend, at most.

“Is this really necessary?” you spoke his doubts out loud, tugging at the sides of his large jacket.

Jungkook managed to keep his cool, eyes darting around the peaceful streets. You two were close to the party, he could already listen to the repetitive beat echoing through the cool breeze, and every step he took amplified his anticipation by tenfold. “It speaks for itself,” he told you, his hand firm on your waist. You were wearing a sleeveless top and a skirt in the same color, and there was a stripe of exposed skin in between the two that Jungkook’s hand brushed against sometimes. He felt like he was a virgin again, hyper-aware of your body and completely unsure what to do with himself. “Besides, you look good wearing it.”

You rolled your eyes. “I look stupid.”

Jungkook glimpsed at you, a sleazy smile growing on his lips. “You look like my girlfriend.”

You snorted. “Oh, so I look super stupid,” you corrected, looking away.

“Funny,” Jungkook answered, monotone. His smile melted away — there was no way in hell it was mutual, he thought, his friends were just fucking him over, trying to see him embarrass himself. “I hope you act better than you tell jokes.”

“It’s probably as good as the effects in Birdemic,” you said.

Jungkook shook his head — he had conflicting emotions when it came to that movie, considering that it was so awful that he laughed to the point of choking on his popcorn. You, being the empathic friend you were, brought up his near-death experience as often as you could. “At least that movie was funny, your poor acting will just be sad,” he threw back.

“Thanks.” You giggled, making his heart leap inside his chest. Jungkook wanted to beat his head against the asphalt until that shy spirit of his middle school past left his body completely. “I’ll let you do the talking.”

Jungkook nodded, allowing his gaze to navigate around the neighborhood — there were a handful of strangers in the streets with the two of you, but it was a shortcut to the frat house that not many people knew of. It brought along a peculiar sentiment of intimacy; the way your features were covered by the pale yellow of the light poles making him want to dive in and kiss you until he couldn’t even breathe. The realization that he could actually do that, under the excuse of a fake relationship, was one that almost knocked him out.

“Just to be sure, by the way,” Jungkook started. “You’re okay with me, like, touching you like you were my girlfriend, right?”

You looked at him for a moment, measuring his expression. “Yeah, that’s part of it,” you told him. “I’m guessing you are okay with it as well?”

“Fine by me.” Jungkook cleared his throat. The frat was literally just around the corner, buzzing into the night with a generic beat and the joyful yelps of hundreds of strangers. He usually enjoyed that cacophony of sounds, but, that time, it was like the screams from hell. “Just a couple hours, okay? Then you’re free.”

“It’s fine,” you told him. “How bad can it be?”

Short answer: bad. Long answer: bad, but with a twist.

Jungkook looked around the party like he was a kid lost in the supermarket, his eyebrows furrowed as he searched for his teammates (which that whole spectacle was supposed to be for). You felt like a piece of a puzzle thrown in the wrong box, leaning against his toned body as he tried to think of what to do.

“So…” You cleared your throat, trying to make yourself heard through the loud beating of the song. Jungkook followed your voice, leaning in closer. Maybe your heart skipped at that, but no one had to know. “What’s the plan, captain?”

Jungkook clicked his tongue. You two were leaning against one of the walls of the large living room, in a somewhat calm corner of the party. “I don’t know, I’m not feeling like being interrogated right now,” he said. “I think it’s better if we wait for the guys to get a bit more drunk so they don't think too much about it.” He sighed, looking around for a bit longer. “We could stay here for a while, just sit down and talk. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.” You breathed out. “I’m taking any chance to rest my feet at this point.”

The ancient gods of the frat parties seemed to be on your side, because it didn’t take much longer than a couple minutes to find a sofa that 1) was unoccupied and 2) didn’t look like it had any suspicious fluids on it. You settled by Jungkook’s side, a breath of relief escaping your chest as you felt the pressure on your calves subside considerably — all you wanted was to go back in time and kill whoever thought high heels were a good idea.

However, you relaxed way too early.

You had to hold back a surprised gasp when Jungkook abruptly tugged your legs onto his lap, one hand finding the curvature of your waist instantly.

“This feels... intimate,” your voice sounded stiff when you spoke up, pushing your skirt down.

“Yeah, that’s the point.” His eyes roamed around the room for exactly two seconds before they widened just slightly, then snapped back at you. “Okay, two things.” Jungkook placed one arm on the couch behind you, murmuring as he leaned in. He had that scheming expression on his face that had been plaguing you ever since middle school, when he first discovered pranks, and you didn’t think that was a good sign. “First: Yoongi, Jin and Namjoon are here, and they’re looking— shh, don’t look! Dumbass.”

“Sorry. You’re the dumbass,” you said. It was hard not to look when you felt as if you were under a microscope, watched closely by his meat-headed friends. Still, you tried to keep your composure. “And the second?”

He exhaled, the hand that was on your waist traveling to touch your cheek. You wondered if he could feel how hot your skin had become. “It’s kind of the time that you have to commit to being my fake girlfriend,” Jungkook warned, stare oscillating towards your mouth. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

Suddenly, you felt like you were right back in high school, about to have your first kiss and not having a single clue about how to do it. “O-Okay,” you whispered.

Jungkook didn’t waste any time. Before you could think about something to try and break the ice, his mouth was on yours, silencing you and turning your thoughts into white noise. He kissed you softly, much slower than you had expected, giving you time to adapt to the tender movement of his lips caressing yours.

You sighed, gradually remembering how to move your limbs. Your hands rested on his broad shoulders as he leaned his head to the side, opening his mouth just slightly and deepening the kiss. No matter how many times you had fantasized about that moment, it could never compare to the way his tongue slipped inside your mouth, nor the small grunt he let out against your lips. Kissing Jungkook felt like heaven and you had completely forgotten about your fake dating situation until he decided to pull back just a bit.

“Fuck, you’re a good kisser,” he mumbled, nose bumping against yours.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I’m not surprised.” His hand slithered down to your hips, his warm palm sending shockwaves through your body. You felt like you were in danger from the way he was speaking, his body moving closer to yours. “I knew you would be.”

Jungkook didn’t even give you time to process his words before he was kissing you again — sloppier, hungrier this time. Again and again, he chose to throw gasoline into the flame of your desire, and what could you do but to melt under his touches, to kiss him just as eagerly.

Faithlessly, you were trying to convince yourself that it was all an act, that he was just playing it up because he knew his friends were watching. But his hand just felt so firm on your hips, pulling you closer as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into the soft sea of his hair. It seemed so real when he moaned softly against your mouth, biting on your lower lip before tracing kisses down your jaw, towards your neck.

Or maybe you were just so deep inside your own illusions that you didn’t want to believe that it was all for show.

Your eyes parted just slightly, trying to find his friends amongst the crowd of strangers. It was extremely hard to think when Jungkook was sucking and licking his way down your neck, his hand squeezing your thighs. Apparently they were nowhere in sight, though, for those obviously bright orange jackets had left your field of vision.

“Jungkook,” you called, surprised at how firm your voice came out. The boy only hummed against your flesh, not paying much attention to what you were saying. “I think they already left.”

Still, it didn’t seem like he was willing to stop. Jungkook mumbled against your neck, his voice so low that you almost didn’t catch his words past the loud music. “Yeah, but someone else can be watching.”

You didn’t know who, though, and you didn’t really care. You were more worried about the small bites he was placing on your skin, the soft sucking of his mouth that left you pressing your legs together, begging for relief. “Um, okay, but there’s a minor emergency,” you told him.

That managed to get his attention, for the boy pulled back so he could look at you. “What is it?” He asked, worried.

You shifted around on the couch, your legs still thrown over his lap. You noticed something hard poking against your skin, which gave you enough momentum to admit out loud that, “I’m, like, soaking wet right now,” you said. “My neck is super sensitive and I’m really trying to hold back here.”

Jungkook froze, blinking a few times and your words settled in his mind. He would never understand how you could be so shy in one second, and then just throw that bomb on his lap like it wouldn’t make his dick rock hard in record time. “Fuck, how can you just say that so naturally?” He cursed.

“Sorry.” You bit your lip. Jungkook had to fight the urge to kiss you again. “I’m just being honest.”

How ironic was it that, while Jungkook lied his way through life, you had no problem throwing those random truths right at his face? The opposites do attract, after all.

He cleared his throat, unsure if he should pull away or not. “Want me to stop?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I think this is getting weird.”

Maybe it would be the perfect time for the world to just open up and eat him whole, considering that Jungkook had never felt so embarrassed in his life. “Weird how?” He asked.

“Weird like… weird.” Self-expression under moments of extreme sexual pressure really wasn’t your forte. You broke eye contact, flustered, instead choosing to look at the cluttered coffee table by your side. Jungkook’s hand was still on your body and you liked his touch far too much for your own well-being. “Maybe it would be better if we just went home.”

“Right now?” Jungkook whined. Sometimes he still acted like the kid you knew, all puffy cheeks and demands for attention; for things to happen the way he wanted. You, being the simp that you were, were his number one enabler. “One more hour, please? We’ve been here for so little time, I just wanna cover all my bases.”

His pouty lips and needy voice was a Molotov cocktail thrown directly in your heart. “Fine.” You puffed out.

“Thank you!” Jungkook beamed, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. The action was so automatic, so unthought, that neither of you reacted to it for a second. “Um… why do you say we try the backyard? Jimin said he’d try some new barbecue technique or whatever, so maybe they’re outside.”

“And after that we leave?” You asked. He nodded. “And you do the talking?”

“I’ll try my best,” Jungkook agreed.

You sighed. “Okay. I need some fresh air anyways.”

Back in middle school, you had a very eccentric world history teacher. You clearly remember one afternoon that she simply walked in and asked the class what was the worst type of torturing they could ever imagine a human could endure — which ended up being a great opening line to a very interesting class about the medieval times and the ways of the inquisition, but also something that plagued you for a long time. That night, when you returned home, you dove into the rabbit hole about the topic and (much to the horror of your parents) discovered a thing or two about torture methods.

The key point, it seemed, wasn’t even about the actual physical act, but about the horrendous expectation that came from it. Psychological torture could break a person apart before someone even laid a finger on them. You knew that already, but you had never truly witnessed it until that night.

“Well, guess I have to take back what I said,” Hoseok started, his speech slightly slurred by the alcohol. Jungkook was right, they were a lot less intense after a few drinks, and apparently weren’t questioning a lot either. “I didn’t think you two would ever end up together after so many years of bullshit, but here we are.”

“Cheers to that, brother,” Jimin barged in, raising his cup.

Jungkook chuckled behind you. “You guys have no fucking faith in me.”

As a typical former theater kid, you were naturally dramatic. But you weren’t kidding when you said that pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend might be a newfound method of psychological torture — especially when he made you sit on his lap, his head resting on your shoulder and strong arms wrapped tightly around you. It was because there were no more chairs left in the backyard, and he wanted to play the gentleman/possessive boyfriend and didn’t allow you to stand up. But justificatives were fruitless when you could feel him getting harder by the minute.

“It’s not about faith, you just fucked me up,” Taehyung said. He was the least inebriated one out of the group, but that didn’t mean much. “I owe Yoongi like fifty bucks now, thanks, man.”

Jungkook was probably going to say something equally ludicrous in return, but your curiosity made you act quicker. “Why?” You asked.

Taehyung clicked his tongue, leaning back against his chair — it was the type that folded in half, and you were thinking he would flip over any second now if he continued with those harsh movements. “Ah. No biggie. He was one of the few people who believed your boyfriend here when he said you two were together.”

You giggled, trying to keep yourself composed. Unlike Jungkook, you were not very skilled when it came to making up lies at the spot, so you ended up deflecting a little. “Yeah, it was a bit… sudden. So I understand the surprise.”

Hoseok yawned, throwing his head back. “Nah, not really a surprise.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes, shifting a little behind you. You felt him tense up, which probably wasn’t a good sign. “Yeah, what do you mean?” He echoed.

“I mean… that it wasn’t a surprise,” Hoseok repeated, raising his eyebrows in a quiet mockery, as if you had just questioned the color of the sky. “Yoongi was sure Jungkook had finally gotten the balls to confess to you. I, myself, didn’t think it was that likely.”

Wait, what? Suddenly you felt like you were the one being lied to, and all of them were in it together, building this huge prank around that story just to humiliate you. There was no way Hoseok was serious about that, not when the booze was probably melting his brain.

Before you could continue to think about that, however, Jungkook spoke up. “Man, you guys suck.” He laughed. “I told you I’d do it someday and you never believed it.”

Ah. That was it. Jungkook had lied about it just like he had done countless times in the past.

You deflated a little, a sting of pain inside your chest as the conversation continued to unravel around you. Right then and there, you felt like the stupidest person alive, with no right to complain about the consequences you knew would come from that idea. Even if you had almost convinced yourself otherwise, what probably happened was that Jungkook got cornered some time in the past about some other girl, and ended up telling his friends that he liked you instead, just to get out of that situation. Like some of his lies, it snowballed, and it took you to where you two were now.

It was hard not to feel hurt, even if you still believed you were a bit at fault for agreeing to his moronic plan. You knew you’d end up like this, suffering over someone who didn’t see you the same way, and you still fell headfirst into that trap. Maybe you were the bad guy in that situation, maybe you were the creepy one for taking advantage of his situation just to feel his body against yours, just to kiss him and pretend that it was all true. Maybe you had no room to judge.

If you concentrated really hard, you could probably pinpoint the exact moment in which you realized that you were head over heels for your best friend. It wasn’t as glamorous as you’d like, just a dirty thought catalyzed by your teen hormones that unleashed an avalanche — it had happened back in the dark, desolate lands of high school, when you were cheering for Jungkook during one of his games. It was an important one, from what you could remember, his brain buzzing with the tension of his senior year and the promise of a fantastic victory. As always, you were there for him: front row, face painted with the colors of your high school, and cheering him on.

He smiled at you, like he always did, but there was something odd about it. Like a lightning crossing the sky, one simple (yet fatal) intrusive thought popped up inside your head: he’s hot.

It was all downhill from there. As much as you tried to wave those ideas away, they kept growing and multiplying, finding new ways to justify themselves — not only was Jungkook hot, suddenly, but you also realized that he would be an amazing boyfriend. He was sweet, kind, funny, determined, a bit ditzy sometimes but nothing you couldn’t deal with. He heard you complain about your problems when needed, but also felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you. There were so many shared interests between you two that you were positive that you could talk forever and never run out of topics to discuss. Jungkook was a walking minefield and you just stepped right on it.

And there you were, stumbling your way down into hell as your lives progressed, and Jungkook got into the same college as you. As predicted, he quickly grew to be the campus’ new star player: a great attacking midfielder, with the number 10 plastered on his shirt and a heart-stopping smile on his face. How on earth could you fight that temptation? It was like a re-enactment of Eve and the snake in the garden of eden. Only the snake had amazing thunder thighs that looked even better with his team’s shorts.

You always asked yourself if Jungkook knew what he was doing when he used his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead, leaving his glistening abs in full display; or maybe when he hugged and swirled you around after they won a game. Part of you wanted to believe that he liked you back, even if you couldn’t really see it. Most of you believed that he was just his personality and nothing else.

“Hey,” he breathed out, voice husky against your ear. You thanked his oversized jacket for concealing the goosebumps on your arms. “You good?”

Just on the brink of a meltdown, no biggie. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He hummed, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Just a little bit longer, alright?” He placed a tiny kiss there, but it was powerful enough to make you whimper quietly. No one seemed to notice, but you didn’t know why Jungkook did that when you had just told him that your neck was sensitive. “They seem convinced.”

Maybe “they” should have you included as well, because you had to actively remind yourself that you two were just acting, that he didn’t see you that way. Nevermind the pool of wetness between your legs, nevermind the way your body was on edge with his strong arms pulling you closer; his chiseled abs pressed tightly against your back. Nevermind Jungkook’s sweet smell or the gentle touches of his lips against your skin. It was all fake, dollar store material. It was just a matter of time before your ride became a pumpkin and the dream was over.

At the same time, you could tell that Jungkook was being affected as well — you could feel the outline of his hard cock poking against your ass when you pressed down on his lap; noticed the tense movements of his arms as they held onto your body. And when Jungkook spoke, with his head placed on your shoulder and a solemn expression on his face, you could tell that he got just a bit choked up every time you shifted around, brushing your ass against his erection.

The human brain is amazing when it comes to searching for any reason to prove our own theories, however, and that was why you weren’t taking any of those signs seriously — cognitive bias was a thing, and you weren’t falling for its tricks. If there are people out there that believe that the earth is flat, even with a ridiculous amount of evidence against it, you couldn’t trust yourself in believing that you had enough proof to think that Jungkook was interested in you. Maybe your argument was equivalent to “well, I can’t see gravity so it doesn’t exist”, and you didn’t even know it.

So you decided to take it easy, to aim towards the side of caution, as the night progressed into the deeper levels of Dante’s Inferno. By the time that Jungkook decided that you two had accomplished your goal and it was time to get you home, you almost cried in relief.

You two drove in almost complete silence, only sparsely commenting on a few occurrences of the night. There was a thick blanket of tension hanging between the two of you, a bitter taste in the back of your throat that you couldn’t ignore. It had been a fun night, yeah, but it was done with. Time to burst that bubble and crash back into reality.

Thankfully or not, depending where you stood, Jungkook didn’t seem to be as worried about those details. He was ridiculously cheerful, beyond proud of his skills, and a little over the moon about the fact that he had been with you the entire night, acting out things he never thought would come true.

“There you go, all done,“ he exclaimed, victorious, the second you two walked into your apartment. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

You scoffed, leaning against the wall so you could remove your shoes. “It wasn’t good either,” you said, monotone. You were physically, emotionally and psychologically exhausted, and you seriously didn’t want to look at his annoyingly pretty face for another second. “Have fun telling them about our instantaneous breakup.”

At that, Jungkook visibly tensed up. “Ha. Yeah…”

You sighed, beyond pissed off (and heartbroken) at that point. You weren’t Jungkook, weren’t built to lie your way through life, to pretend as if the feelings inside your chest were not your own. “By the way — fuck, I hate high heels,” you complained, throwing your shoes on the floor with a bit more force than necessary. Jungkook flinched a little, distracted. “By the way, what did Hoseok mean by that?”

He blinked, swallowing dry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck — think of something. “By what?”

You raised one eyebrow. “Saying that you’d never have the guts to confess or whatever.”

The worst part was that Jungkook could see in your downcast eyes that you had no idea what you were asking him. You seriously couldn’t tell that he had feelings for you — or, if you did, you simply couldn’t believe it. Or maybe you just despised him on a level in which a crush would be preposterous to even consider. “Ah.” He clicked his tongue. Think, you dumbass! Come up with something! “That.”

You were getting a little choked up now. There was no way you couldn’t notice the trademarked signals of Jungkook buying himself some time, trying to come up with something inside that evil head of his. Maybe you had been right thinking that he had mentioned your name randomly one day, just to save his ass, and now he was dealing with the backlash of his actions. “Yeah, what was it about?” You pressed on.

Jungkook chuckled, nervous. “Man… I was really hoping you’d forget that.”

You took a step closer to him, anticipating what was to come. If he was going to hurt you, you wished he would just do it quickly, without dragging it out so much. “Just tell me, Jungkook.”

And he was trying. Kind of. Jungkook was looking at you like his brain was frying, the Widow’s blue screen reflecting off his widened eyes. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, stare falling to the floor. “I can’t lie to you about that.”

You scoffed, venom running up your throat. That was priceless. “You tell white lies almost every day, why is this so different?”

“Because it’s not a white lie.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and narrowed your eyes, taking another step towards him. “Why are you thinking about lying to me, in the first place?” You asked. “Even if… even if it will hurt me. I deserve to know.”

“Uhh…” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. “Because the truth kind of sucks and it can fuck everything up. And I don’t wanna do that.”

Apparently you were right about your previous theory, then. Jungkook didn’t see you the same way, after all. And that was fine (it wasn’t), but he couldn’t even grow a pair and tell you straight on. “So you would rather avoid it?” You didn’t relent, motivated by your frustration, your hurt, that sickly feeling of betrayal — everything at once. “That has been kind of a running theme with you, hasn’t it?” You stared at him, but Jungkook could only avert his eyes from your burning gaze, instead looking at his feet. “Fine. Don’t tell me if you don’t want to, but quit dragging me into these bullshit lies of yours. I’m tired.”

“No one has ever cancelled a date with me,” he blurted out.

You hesitated, blinking a few times as you digested his words. “What?”

He breathed out. “No one has ever cancelled a date with me. It was all me,” Jungkook confessed. “I lied to you about that because I wanted to spend more time with you. And I didn’t care about anyone else.”

“Wh—“

Overwhelmed by a random wave of courage, his gaze snapped up at you. “I like when you watch my practice and bring me stuff, and I like when you invite me to those dumb movie marathons and make me watch the most disgusting shit,” Jungkook continued, his words falling incoherently from his mouth. You could only stare, flabbergasted, as he spilled months — years — of secrets all at once. “And I like watching you study, and I love seeing you laugh, I love spending time with you, and Hoseok is fucking tired of hearing me talk about it and do nothing.”

“I... don’t understand what you’re saying,” you told him.

“I told the guys that we were dating because you were literally the only person that popped in my mind, and the only person I actually wanted to be with,” he just went on, not paying attention to your previous comment. Jungkook was a little on edge now, a bit breathless and wide-eyed. He’s nervous, you realized. It had been a long time since you saw him like that. “And this was the best night I’ve had in a while, just because you were there and I— I’m fucking everything up, I told you I would.”

“Jungkook,” you called softly, feeling as if every inhale was an olympic sport. Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that you were afraid of having a syncope before you could hear the words you needed so badly. “Just tell me what you want to say.”

He cleared his throat, shifting the weight from one leg to the other. “I’m like… how do I put this…?” Jungkook paused, took a deep breath, and dropped the bomb. “I’ve been kind of in love with you ever since we were like eight, yeah.”

Record scratch. Freeze frame. “You what?”

Jungkook chuckled. “Yep… awkward,” he said. “Sorry.”

It hasn’t settled in just yet, which explained why you didn’t start screaming at him. “And you have the guts to tell me that I drop things naturally?” You asked. “Are you serious? You better not be fucking with me right now.”

He raised one hand and placed it on his chest. “I’m not, promise.”

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks. “Jeon Jungkook!” You screeched, both hands flying to hold onto his shirt, rocking him back and forth with the strength of a thousand men. “I’m gonna make you swallow my fist!”

Jungkook was dumbfounded, ten times more confused than when you tried to explain to him the plot of the Velocipastor — which really wasn’t that hard, it was just a pastor who was also a dinosaur shifter. But his brain wasn’t good at following those types of unpredictable plots, and that counted your burst of anger. “That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting at all,” he murmured, voice flat with disbelief.

But it was your turn to ramble incoherently. “You’re an idiot! You’re even worse than I thought!” You were still speaking loudly, letting all that frustration wash out of you, giving place to relief. “You made me go through all this fucking night, kissing you and pretending to be your girlfriend, while you actually like me? You prick!”

You punched his chest — his stupid, muscular, rock-hard chest. “Ouch!” He whined, but you doubted it actually hurt.

“I was almost crying because of how hard it was to suppress my own feelings for you,” you told him, pulling on his shirt once again. You wanted to take it off, wanted to kiss him until he was all that you could think about. But you also wanted to dropkick him straight to the deepest circle of hell. “And you like me back? Idiot!”

“Wait, wait, what?” Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, a perfect picture of his surprise. “For real?”

“For real.” Your shoulders slumped, the anger that possessed your body left you as quickly as it had arrived. “I’m in love with you too, you smooth-brained asshole. Ever since high school.”

He blinked, dumbfounded. “I had no idea.”

“Didn’t I tell you that speaking the truth is always the better option? You never listen.” You tugged on his shirt one more time, for dramatic effect. “Dumbass.”

“You’re the dumbass. And no, I don’t think I do,” his voice was flat, mind navigating miles away from your place. “___?”

“What?” You barked.

“How mad are you?”

You groaned. “Pretty mad, why?”

It was his turn to take a step towards you, the heat that emanated off his body now surrounding you. “Because I’m gonna kiss you right now and I’d greatly appreciate it if you didn’t bite my face off.”

You sighed, relaxing against his torso. Jungkook’s hands came up to rest on your waist, guiding you closer to him. “I’ll try my best,” you told him, “go ahead.”

Maybe all those foolish love songs and melodramatic romantic poets were onto something, because you swore you saw fireworks when Jungkook finally moved in, crashing his lips on yours. Yes, you had kissed him already that night, but there was no way those two situations could be comparable, not when you felt much lighter now that the secret was out, and that you knew what he felt when he pulled you closer, when he sighed against your mouth and caressed your lower back.

Long years of friendship granted you the knowledge that Jungkook was tender with some things, rough with others — he was gentle with kids, with his other friends, with you; he was hard around the edges when it came to his matches (being especially fiery around championships), people he didn’t like, and goals he wanted to reach. As he kissed you, you could notice him trying to figure out which approach to take with you: his lips were soft on yours, tongue slowly exploring your mouth, but his hands were harsh, groping your ass as he pushed you up against the nearest wall, a growl vibrating inside his chest.

Maybe it was a bit evil to push his buttons when you knew he was so dangerously close to snapping, but you weren’t in the right frame of mind — or, rather, you weren’t in any frame of mind at all. So, knowing very well that Jungkook was the most competitive person you knew, you pulled away from the kiss to say, “Come on, why don’t you kiss me like you mean it?”

Which might have been the dumbest final words you could’ve uttered.

You were graced with just a couple seconds of hesitation from his part — frustration and desire flashing inside his hooded eyes — before he was crashing his mouth onto yours once again. Jungkook didn’t say anything, because he didn’t need to: the messy, sensual kiss he gave you was more than enough to make you shut up. Just according to the keikaku, of course.

His hands were in the back of your tights before you could think, pulling you up and pinning you against the wall. You moaned against his lips, a shaky exhale leaving your mouth when he rolled his center against yours — cock hard and heavy inside his pants, brushing against your covered heat. Jungkook did it two, three, four times, slowly grinding against you like he couldn’t hold himself back any further, groaning at the feeling.

When he pulled away, you were almost seeing entire constellations forming in your vision, your breath labored and mind dizzy with desire. “Fuck,” he cursed, resting his forehead on yours. “Want you so fucking bad.”

“Want you too,” you told him. “Bedroom?”

He pulled back so he could look at you better. “Sure?”

You nodded. “Sure.” Leaning in, you placed a timid kiss on his lips. “Want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

After all those years, that was all that he needed to hear. He was quick to pull you away from the wall, hands holding your body up and your legs wrapped around his waist. Jungkook knew your apartment like the back of his hand, but he still kept his eyes open as he walked towards your bedroom, your lips mindlessly attacking his thick neck. You had dreamed about doing that so many times and you could say with confidence that you weren’t disappointed by the shuddering breaths he let out, or the small grunts he gifted you every time you sucked his skin just right. By the time that Jungkook placed you on your bed, crawling over you, you were so wet that it was almost embarrassing.

He looked at you like he was hypnotized, his hands roaming up your legs, slowly spreading them so he could place himself in between. With the action, your skirt rolled up, exposing your underwear. “Shit, I thought about doing this so many times,” Jungkook murmured, almost as if he was talking to himself. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

“You’re so sappy.” You giggled, but you couldn’t deny that his low voice was getting to you. You shivered when his palms met the exposed skin of your waist, pausing in the space between your skirt and your sleeveless top. Jungkook was deep in thought, his gaze flickering all over your body. “What is it?” You asked.

“You look so fucking hot in this.” He pulled on the large piece of clothing, his tongue coming out to lick his lips. “Wanna fuck you with the jacket on. Just the jacket.”

You almost choked on your saliva — well that was something you weren’t expecting at all. “Seriously?” You raised one eyebrow, teasing him. “You have that much of a hard-on for sports?”

Jungkook didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes, though, because he gave you a serious answer. “No, I have that much of a hard-on for you.” He dipped in so he could nestle his face on the curve of your neck, humming as he inhaled your scent. Once again, you were faced with the contrast of his soft lips against your skin, but the rough tug of his hands on your skirt. “Wanna fuck my girl with only my jacket on, what’s so wrong about that?”

You whimpered when he licked on your sensitive spot, trying to push your legs together, but being stopped by his presence between them. Jungkook successfully pulled your skirt out of you, throwing it somewhere on the floor. “Since when are you this possessive?” You asked.

He moved back, hands progressing to your tube top and sliding it down. It seemed as if the world had conspired in his favor, because it was just so easy to leave you only with his team clothes on, the elastic material leaving your body quick enough. “I’m not possessive,” he responded, only half there. His brain was trying to understand the vision of you before his eyes, only with your panties and his jacket. Jungkook could feel his cock throbbing inside his pants, begging for relief, and he just knew that sight would plague him forever. “Wanna make sure that you know you’re mine, though. I’ve thought about this for too long.”

As you fumbled for something to say, he dove back in, his mouth attacking your breasts with no time. Your back arched, fingers tangling in his messy hair as he sucked and licked your nipples, his strong hands squeezing your tits every time you moaned out. It was almost humiliating how reactive you were, with your shallow breaths and broken calls of his name, but Jungkook was fucking loving it, and he just wanted more of it.

You melted under his touches as he pulled himself closer to you, his mouth tracing its way back to your clavicles, then your neck. Much to your dismay, his hands were still on your breasts, playing with your erect nipples as he finally found that one spot that made you yelp.

“W-Wait,” you stammered, “my neck is sensitive.”

Jungkook knew that already. In fact, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since you mentioned it back at the party; his cock stiff inside his pants at the memory alone. “I noticed,” he groaned, the vibrations of his voice spreading throughout your skin. One of his hands slithered between your bodies, hastily pulling your underwear to the side so his fingers could plunge between your folds. At the sensation of your arousal, Jungkook growled, pressing his erection against your thigh. “Holy fuck. You’re soaked.”

“I told you,” you said, feeling like your brain was about to melt and drip out of your ears. It was hard to concentrate when he was making out with your neck like that, sucking and biting the skin before liking the same spot he had just attacked. Still, the sudden plunging of his finger inside your pussy caught your attention in an instant. “J-Jungkook, I’m—”

How shameful was it that you couldn’t even finish a damn sentence? Lust was getting the best of you, pushing your rationalizations aside and filling your lungs with desire. Jungkook soon added a second finger inside you, stretching you wide as he continued to fuck you. It was a fantastic sensation — his hand was much larger than yours, and you were sure you’d be able to cum like that if it kept it up for long enough.

Jungkook moaned against your neck, pulling his head back so he could take a look at you. His cock throbbed at the sight of your dazed-out face, your parted lips looking so dangerously inviting to him, “Tell me what you want,” he asked, diving in to kiss you. He sucked on your tongue, making you whine as he pulled back. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Want you,” you said, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

Jungkook liked the sharp pain that came from it, raising the speed of his fingers just a bit. “I’m right here.”

“No,” you whimpered, blinking back the tears of frustration that covered your irises. God, Jungkook couldn’t even believe you were all his. “Want your cock inside me, please.”

Listening to you saying that was like experiencing a choir of angels singing directly to him. Jungkook had waited far too long to get you alone like that, so beautiful and pliant beneath him, and there was no way in hell he would deny you your request.

So he got moving, his hand flying to the back of his shirt, which he tugged off with one swift motion. Your eyes fell to his toned chest, roaming his sweaty skin as he moved onto his belt. “Take those off.” He signaled with his head towards your panties.

You nodded, sliding your underwear down and throwing it to the side. Even with his jacket still on — which, you admitted, it was both objectively and subjectively hot — you felt extremely exposed, thighs closing just slightly when Jungkook took his pants and boxers off.

“Keep them open,” he warned, his stare stuck to your glistening folds, and you did. His face was one of sheer lust, tongue coming out to wet his lips as he placed himself back in place. “Wanna see you cum on my fingers,” he breathed, “but I’m too hard. Need to be inside you right now.”

Your attention flickered downwards, pulled by the small collision of his cock against your clit. You winced at the feeling, but one of his large hands kept you in place as he moved closer to your heat. The constant drumming of your pulse was all that you could hear for a second, heart skipping a beat when you fully noticed his size.

Would it be weird to say that Jungkook had a pretty dick? Because he did. And a big one too, which made you second guess your own limits for a moment.

As if he was reading your mind, his cockhead pressed against your pussy, so warm and wet that Jungkook swore he was about to lose his mind — or what was left of it. There was nothing more that he wanted then to nestle himself in your heat, bury himself deep inside you until you were the only thing he could think about. “Shit, look at you,” he murmured, brushing his tip against your entrance. Your figure twitched under him, a soft gasp leaving your mouth at the feeling. “Bet I could slide right in.”

He was hypnotized by the squelching sounds of your pussy, the way your opening fluttered around his crown as he slowly started to press himself into you. He wanted to do it slowly so he could pay attention to every detail of you, every small exclamation of pleasure that dripped like honey from your lips.

The world around you two was getting smaller and hotter by the minute, suffocating you and pulling the air out of your lungs. Your eyelashes fluttered as Jungkook’s cock slid inside you, just the tip at first, your back arching as your walls clenched around him, almost as if your body was rejecting his size. “You’re so big,” you whined, burry eyes fighting to focus on his face.

Jungkook, however, wasn’t looking at you, but at the way his member sank between your folds, diving into your wet heat. “Yeah?” He breathed out, jaw clenching. It was taking everything inside him not to start pounding into you. “I’m sure you can take it, don’t you think?”

You nodded, and it took a moment for your words to catch up to you. “Y-Yes,” you said.

Jungkook was more than halfway inside you now, and his mind was more than halfway gone, thrown out of the window and into the gelid nocturnal winds. The way you were wrapping around him should be illegal; you were so perfect that jungkook was sure he could never find a drug that would get him so high. “That’s it, be greedy for me,” he groaned, “take everything.”

He went as deep as he could, his cock almost brushing against your cervix and your cunt throbbing against him. Maybe he had died and was in paradise, because there was no way he could be feeling so good.

“Move, please,” you asked meekly.

Lucky you, he was more than happy to comply.

Jungkook tilted his hips back, until just his tip was still inside you, only to bottom out again, feeling as your cunt throbbed around him. He did this with unbearable patience at first, allowing your body to get accustomed to his cock splitting you open before he started to pick up the pace. Most of his self control had already burned out, though, at it wasn’t long before he was fucking you fast, rough; groaning at the way your tits jumped every time he shived his length back inside you.

Once again, he felt like a virgin — you were too much, it seemed. Everything about you got him searching for the stars, wishing for more and moaning out every time your cunt squeezed around him. You were so fucking wet, he thought, so tight and warm, that he wasn’t even thinking about cumming, just about how wished to keep fucking you forever. At the same time, Jungkook was sure that he wouldn’t last long, not when you were looking at him like that, calling his name again and again until it silenced all his thoughts.

Your breath hitched when his cock brushed against your sensitive spot. “Right there, right there,” you sobbed, nails scratching the skin of his arms. Jungkook caught onto your request straight away, keeping the same angle until you were a babbling mess under him. “Oh m-my god, yeah,” you cried out. “S-So good.”

“Fuck, that’s tight,” Jungkook cursed, his hands digging into your thighs, shoving them up for him so he could reach deeper, fuck you harder. He couldn’t stop moaning, gasping, producing the most beautiful sounds for you. “S-Shit, you’re just pulling my cock in. Your pussy feels amazing.” If given enough time, he could go crazy staring at the way in which his cock disappeared between your folds, only to come back dripping with your arousal, and then slamming back in. “You’re just so fucking hot,” he couldn’t help but say it out loud. “Play with your tits for me.”

You didn’t have the guts to deny him, your hands palming your tits, squeezing the soft flesh. You whimpered at the feeling, eyes closing in bliss as he continued to fuck you.

“That’s it, so good for me,” Jungkook praised, hips losing their rhythm for a second. His cock was already throbbing, orgasm threatening to hit him any time now. He needed you to cum first, though. “Your pussy too. Come on.”

That time, you hesitated a little, a broken sob falling from your lips as you found his gaze. However, you couldn’t deny it — you wanted to be good for him, to get his praises again and again until that was all that you could hear. So you followed his command, two fingers, sinking into your wetness before trailing back to your clit.

A rush of pleasure ran through your veins, pussy clenching around his cock as your moments grew desperate, needy for more. You were bordering on delirious by that point, your mind unable to focus on one thing, instead jumping between all the stimulation you were getting — your hand squeezing your breast; your fingers rubbing your clit; Jungkook’s cock drilling inside you. “T-Too much,” you cried.

God, but that’s exactly what he wanted. Jungkook wanted to see that pretty, overwhelmed face of yours, wanted to show you that every minute of waiting had been worth it. “Yeah? But you can take it for me, can’t you?” He moaned under his breath, starting to get lost in his own pleasure. You were getting tighter by the second, which was a dangerous thing. “You can cream my cock if I ask you to, right?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’ll do anything f-for you.”

Jungkook sighed at your words, cock throbbing inside you. “Good girl, just like that,” he husked. “Such a good girl.”

Tears started to prickle your eyes, and you didn’t know if it was because of how overwhelmed you were, or because your emotions were just now starting to tip over. “J-Jungkook,” you called his name, for a moment not knowing if you would follow it up with something else. His eyes found your own, dazed ones, and his heart skipped a beat at how beautiful and his you looked at that moment. “Love y-you.”

Years of fantasizing about that confession could’ve never prepared the two of you for such an honest, unexpected moment. Jungkook felt his soul reach levels of happiness which he had never experienced before, mouth only able to say one thing in return. “Love you too.” He pressed his forehead against yours, movements becoming more sloppy, desperate. The new angle was an amazing discovery, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you, which tore a loud cry from you. “Holy shit,” he moaned. “You’re getting so fucking t-tight around my cock.”

“Close,” you breathed out, letting go of his previous requests and just taking your hands to his face instead. Jungkook stared at you like he could see the entire universe in your eyes, his hot breaths hitting your face in gentle waves. “K-Kiss me, please.”

There was no need to repeat yourself. Jungkook crashed his mouth against yours, trapping you in a kiss that felt both like too much and too little at the same. You barely had any time to dive into the caress of his lips on yours before your high washed over you — walls spasming around his length as you dove into bliss; moaning into the kiss and holding to his broad shoulders.

He broke the kiss right after, a stuttering, failed breath leaving his chest. “L-Love you,” he choked out, “so much.” Jungkook gasped. He was so close, but, at the same time, he didn’t want to let go just yet. It felt too good — having you was too perfect. “Can’t b-believe you’re mine.”

You smiled at his state, one hand brushing the sweaty hair away from his forehead. “Love you too,” you said back. You could say it again and again, without ever getting tired. After so many years swallowing it down, nothing felt so free. “It’s okay, you can let go.”

Jungkook nodded, only mildly aware of his own actions. With all the force within him, he pushed himself away from you, pulling out from your heat. Soon, his hand wrapped around his cock, using your arousal to pump himself towards his much-needed release. “Shit,” he choked up, throwing his head back. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Jungkook grunted as he finally reached his high; cock throbbing in his hands. His cum splattered all over your belly, a few white ropes hitting the underside of your tits as well; dripping down to your mound and pelvis as his movements started to slow down. Even then, so fucked-out and overwhelmed, Jungkook looked like a god you’d be more than happy to worship.

“Fuck,” he heaved, hooded eyes trailing over your form. By some miracle, probably the work of some mysterious sports god, his jacket remained untouched. “That looks so hot.”

You smiled, taking a glimpse at your body. “And messy.”

He let out a breathy, tired laugh. “Yeah. Gonna clean you up, just give me a second. I almost blacked out here.”

Playfully, you kicked the side of his thigh. “You better,” you told him. “And don’t be so melodramatic.”

“Rude.” He leaned in, placing a kiss on your lips. You still felt like you were dreaming, trapped in an alternate reality. If that was the case, you didn’t want to wake up. “Next time I’ll cum in your mouth so you’ll learn some manners.”

Next time. Those words fell like a stone inside your stomach. It was pretty much impossible to mask your lovesick gaze now. “Yeah, bold of you to believe it’ll change a thing.” You pushed him off you, signaling towards the bathroom. “Go, be a good boy and go get me a towel.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but did as you said, leaving the bed soon after. “I liked you better when you were pretending to be my fake girlfriend,” he spoke from the corridor. “You were more polite.”

“I was acting,” you said. “This is what you’re gonna get.”

He laughed, appearing back in the room. “Ah, well, I guess I made my choice years ago.”

That managed to shut you up real fast, heart hammering against your ribcage as Jungkook started cleaning you up. His movements were tender on your skin, feather-like touches that moved up your abdomen, to your breasts, then back between your legs. During all that, a familiar, comfortable silence fell between you two — one that you had grown used to; so empty and yet so full.

After he was done, Jungkook discarded the towel, returning to his rightful place next to you. Like it was your second nature, you curled yourself up next to him, head resting on his chest and his arm wrapping around your waist.

The world was perfect for exactly thirty seconds before he decided to ruin it. “So…” Jungkook started, a mischievous smirk already curling on his lips, “you like like me.”

You scoffed, propping your chin on his chest and meeting his gaze. Jungkook was too cute and too hot for his own good, and his post-sex state managed to incorporate both elements in a hazardous combination. “Yes. And you like like me back.” You remarked. “Did you seriously have to go through all these steps instead of just, I don’t know, telling me?”

He threw his head back, eyes closing in sheer desperation. “I didn’t know!”

“Everyone knew!” You exclaimed back, flabbergasted. You couldn’t believe that all those years of shared distress could’ve been solved with the most basic common sense. “Do you think I watch your games because I like them? I tell you all the time I hate sports! Dumbass!”

Jungkook flinched when you slapped the top of his head lightly, forging pain. “Ouch! You’re the dumbass. And I thought you were kidding.” He pouted, eyes drifting off towards a corner of the room. You could tell he was thinking, so you gave him his time. “But now that you mention it…”

You rolled your eyes, laying back down. “Yeah, that’s not so hard to—”

“I cannot stand body horror.”

“What?” You shrieked, sitting up at lightning speed. That managed to be the most unexpected thing Jungkook had told you that night — scratcher that: ever. “You told me you loved watching body horror with me.”

He shook his head, an expression of disgust on his face as he was reminded of every horror movie he had ever watched. “I almost puke watching it. I just pretend I enjoy it because it makes you happy.”

For a moment, your mouth hung open, mind working a million miles per hour to make sense of his admission. Thinking back to it, you had noticed how frequently Jungkook went to the bathroom while watching Tusk; about how many times he coughed and turned his head away from the Human Centipede. “Oh my god.” Your shoulders slumped, your voice was a frail little thing, filled by disbelief. You couldn’t call him dumb when you had acted just the same. “We’re both idiots.”

Jungkook laughed as you returned to your previous position, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I think that’s the only possible conclusion.”

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ptergwen · 3 years

Note

Could you write a fic where Tom is in an interview and talking about the reader as his current gf and also being his first love/childhood love?

woah i wrote kind of a lot like we got DETAILED here 😭 have fun

tom’s love life has been the topic of many conversations over the years. he’s gotten countless questions about who he’s dating and what he looks for in a partner. you’d think the hype would die down at some point, but no. even more rumors have begun to spiral as he promotes cherry.

thank the nosy interviewers for that. they’re taking all their chances to get up close and personal.

“so, let’s talk about love,” an interviewer prompts tom one afternoon. he sits up straighter in his chair, expression serious. “sure, let’s.” “what do you think about it?” she’s being vague so she’ll get the most clickable answers. “do you mean, like, in this film? or just in life?” tom wears a curious smirk now. he glances off to the side, where you’re sat watching.

you’ve been sitting in on his interviews as of late to keep him entertained. as much as the movie means to him, he gets bored of answering the same questions about it. having you there to snicker at his jokes or blow him kisses really livens things up. it’s been that way since you were little. you’re always cheering tom up even if he doesn’t realize he needs any.

“both,” the woman replies, mirroring his cheeky smile. “right, that’s what i thought.” tom clears his throat and raises an eyebrow. “so i’m not mistaken, love in my own life?” “anything you feel like sharing.” she beams into the camera while he nods to himself. you give tom a little smile of approval, which he catches from the corner of his eye. he chuckles at the gesture.

“easy enough. i’ll start with cherry, then,” he decides, getting back into the movie. the interviewer nods for him to go on. “you know, cherry’s always been kind of unlucky in the relationship department.” tom pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. “until he meets emily, and things are still a bit complicated with her. i’d say it’s the same way for me.”

you jaw drops off camera, tom doing his best to stifle a laugh. he’s the biggest tease to walk this earth. “oh, that can’t be right,” tom’s interviewer insists with a mischievous grin. “you’re one of the most eligible bachelors out there.” “not exactly eligible, actually,” he mutters and twiddles his thumbs in his lap. a smile creeps onto his face.

she doesn’t miss that. “you do have a special someone after all?” tom squints at her through the screen. “after all? who’s been asking?” he jokes, the woman laughing like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “everyone has. the entire world.” you make wide eyes at tom. he’s never given many details about his dating life before, so this is a big step to take.

“well,” he starts, glancing over at you subtly. “yes, i’m a taken man.” “by who?” the interviewer blurts. she’s the first person to get anything out of him. “um,” tom breathes out an awkward laugh. you mouth it’s okay to him, ready to give the people what they’ve been craving.

you’ve had this conversation with tom a couple of times. he’s never wanted to put any pressure on you about going public, so it’s been your call if and when you do. now, you’ve made it.

“my, uh, my best friend. it’s not harrison, for those of you who know him.” tom bites back another smile. you sport one of your own, the tips of his ears turning red. “does this best friend have a name?” the woman questions. he looks to you again for your permission to say it. you think about it for a few seconds, then you give in.

“it’s y/n. you might recognize her,” tom explains, shifting in his chair. “she’s been on my instagram a few times, other stuff like that,” the interviewer makes a mental note to insert his posts of you in the video. “yes, yes. i think i do. you said she’s your best friend?” she clasps her hands. he’s fully blushing now, you giggling quietly at the sight.

“since secondary school, yeah. we met in one of our classes. english, i believe,” tom hums. “i was sitting alone, so she came and sat next to me.” he’s grinning at the fond memory. you feel your face starting to get hot. “how sweet. it seems like you became fast friends,” the woman suggests, throwing more questions out.

“what happened that turned your friendship to a relationship?”

it was when you were two wiser and more experienced adults that you and tom came to understand your connection. there was one moment specifically that turned you from friends to something more, though. tom will share that story with his interviewer, since it seems like she’s into the gossip.

“we didn’t seal the deal until a couple of years ago.” tom breathes out a laugh at what he’s about to say. you’re well aware of it, rolling your eyes playfully. “but, there was a moment when we were kids that i knew i really liked her.” “please, spill,” tom’s interviewer happily requests. he gladly obliges.

“y/n asked me to practice kissing with her because she liked some other bloke.” tom whispers to his camera, “which wasn’t true, by the way. we’ll get to that.” you silently groan and throw your head back on your chair. he shoots you a wink before continuing. “she wanted to go out with him, and said it was a best friend’s job to help her... prepare.”

you press a kiss to your middle finger and stick it up at tom. “precious,” he sarcastically mumbles in response. “what happened next?” the woman reels him back in. tom focuses on the screen again. “right. so, i did some research on how to kiss.” he shakes his head at his former self. “i really should’ve been studying for my A levels or something.”

“when i’m all ready, i invite y/n/n over so we can ‘practice’.” tom makes air quotes around the world, you murmuring, “i hate you,” only for him to hear. “i don’t know what website i used, but it was clearly awful.” he holds a hand up to pretend it’s your face. “i went in, and i just, like, stuck my tongue down her throat. like this.” he’s recreating the moment, you cringing at the vivid image you get.

“oh, no. what did she do?” the interviewer gives tom a pained look. “she nearly vomited, is what she did. ran home right after.” tom puffs air out of his cheeks. you press your lips together in satisfaction. “anyway, we’re reminiscing on it a few years later, and y/n/n tells me something very interesting.” leaning forward, the woman gestures for him to say it.

“i was the bloke she was gonna ask out, but my terrible kissing skills, or lack thereof, scared her off.” he exchanges a knowing look with you. his interviewer gasps. “i was like... are you fucking kidding me?” he only mouths the fucking part even though it’s getting bleeped. that makes you snort. “there’s a turning point, there’s a turning point,” tom reassures everyone.

“i told her i’ve gotten better since then, and we should try again if she wanted.” the interviewer puts a hand on her heart. “did you?” tom lets out a content sigh. “we did, and then we had a long talk about feelings and all that shit.” you make a heart with your fingers for him. he puckers his lips to mime kissing you, without tongue. “we’ve been together ever since.”

“what a lovely story. thank you for sharing that with me,” the woman butters him up more. she gets another idea. “now that you two are official, do we get to meet her?” “you kind of have,” tom retorts, but still checks with you. not expecting anything to come of this, you only shrug.

“i’ve noticed you looking off camera quite a lot. is y/n there?” his interviewer points out, much to both of your surprise. you’ve been at this for weeks, and she’s the only one to say something. “uh, she is,” tom finds himself admitting. he’s a terrible liar, so he almost had to. “tell her to come say hi!” the woman pushes. you look horrified when tom peeks over.

“no, no. i don’t wanna put her on the spot,” he brushes it off. “she’s a bit... camera shy.” “come on, just for a second!” she persists, waving you over like she can see you. this lady is starting to get on your nerves. “you just told me about that steamy kiss of yours. what’s the difference?” tom quirks an eyebrow. “i don’t know if-“

he stops mid sentence when you appear next to him. it’s to shut the interviewer up. although, you might as well reveal yourself before paparazzi do it.

“never mind,” tom grins a toothy grin up at you. “you wanna have a seat, darling?” “happy to,” you hum as he pats his knee. you take your spot on his thigh, an arm slinging around his neck. he wraps his around your middle. the interviewer is so stunned, she’s finally out of things to say. this could quite literally break the internet.

your voice a low whisper, you speak into his ear. “i can’t believe i’m doing this. you should’ve stopped me.” tom squeezes you closer and tilts his head to the side. “what if i didn’t want to?” “my god.” you plant a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving tom’s mouth hanging open.

“there’s your thumbnail.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #tom holland request #tom holland smut

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Bloodsport (din djarin x fem!reader) (part one)

rated: 18+

word count: 5.4k

warnings: smut, knife kink (no blood is drawn and consent is clearly given), blowjobs, vaginal fingering, din is sorta a virg duDE, alcohol, mentions of violence (reader punches someone in the face kwejrkejh), some gambling (sabaac) also please let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: oOf this is the first fic in sO LONG IM SO SORRY YALL KEHJRKEJH BUT ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY

It’s been a couple months since Din’s stepped foot on the sandy nightmare of a planet. Went through hell and back and kriff—it feels like a lifetime ago. But the landscape before him hasn’t changed an inch, Mos Eisley same as always—busy with all sorts of scum and villainy he turns a blind eye to.

Din hopes it’s not the only thing that’s stayed the same—selfish as it is. Someone as volatile as you is bound to catalyze and shift, so is the nature of life. A lot can happen in a month or two and it’s ridiculous to think that you would ever push your life to the side and wait for him to return.

Turns out, you are here, still working as the resident mechanic. Though in the same elated breath of hearing that tidbit of news, it’s equally dissatisfying when he somehow misses you completely. You’re off planet, looking for power converters and electrical wiring—back in few days Peli promises. Maybe by the time his wild goose chase is over, back from the butt fuck middle of nowhere, he’ll get to see you—

Nothing goes as planned—naturally. All Din finds is a man playing dress up, an oversized lizard, planetary drama he’s forced to resolve and—to top it all off—an attempted stickup. Maker—he’s not even worried about anything save for the kid and your speeder. The very same one now scattered over the sand in miserable heaps.

At least some of it is salvageable…

By the time Din reaches the outskirts of Mos Eisley, the binary suns are smearing across the horizon like molten puddles of magma. Deep aches amass in his shoulders and back from the weight of the speeder parts, his gear, and the second pair of armor. Maker—it feels like his arms are going to be ripped off.

The baby babbles something incomprehensible.

“Almost there, kid,” Din responds, sparing a quick glance down the baby. “How does soup sound?”

Instead of trudging back to the hangar, Din wanders to the cantina. Call it a hunch or just you and your aunt’s tendency to lurk around the premises, he’s certain he’s going to find one of you here.

Din is right.

The moment he steps inside, he spots your mess of hair, the low solar lights illuminating the rich colors with a soft orange. The baby coos and blinks up at Din, his tiny clawed finger gesturing in your direction.

Din hums. “Good job—you found her.”

The child’s little teeth peek out, pleased with his discovery. Din steps into the doorway, down the carven stairs and over to your table. A older man—a ship rigger by the looks of his uniform—sits across from you, a game of Sabaac spread across the table between you. You’re winning.

“Hello, Shiny.” You greet, dipping your chin in his direction. “Your armor is looking a tad ripe.”

It’s true. The layer of slime coating his armor had baked and crusted under the suns—probably doesn’t smell too good either…

“I killed a Krayt dragon.” Din states it with a twinge of smug satisfaction despite knowing how little something like that would mean to you. He could conquer three dozen planets and shower you in all the precious metals in the world and you’d still turn your nose up at everything.

“And I curb stomped a centipede today—you aren’t special.” Your eyes never leave the set of worn cards you hold between your fingers, acutely ignoring him like you would an overly enthusiastic puppy. You inhale and scrape your right thumbnail along the edge of the hexagonal cardstock—it’s a subtle tell, one Din would more than likely miss if he were the unlucky bastard brave enough to sit at the other end of the table.

“You playin’ or what?” Your opponent gripes. He scratches his unkempt salt and pepper stubble and quirks a furry brow.

You lift your chin in scorned defiance and lay your hand down—full Sabaac. The man hisses through his crooked, clenched teeth and utters a curse as he shoves his winnings towards your end of the table.

“Peli promised me information.” Din pushes, hearing the kid coo in curiosity as you begin shuffling the cards with practiced flare. “About others like me.”

“Do I look like my aunt to you?” You grumble. It’s the first time your eyes leave the perimeter of the game to look at him. They settle on the kid first with a guarded version of compassion, then leap to the faded green armor clipped to the heavy luggage, and then his visor. Your lip twitches at the green slime still coating the beskar. “I’m assuming my speeder didn’t make it.”

“A technical difficulty.”

You roll your eyes and snort, dealing out the cards then setting the stack in the middle. “Right…”

The background ambiance of the bar and the quiet rasp of cards fill the brief lull in conversation. Any other rational person would take the blaring hint to leave, but Din is just as stubborn as you are.

“I don’t remember where the hangar is,” Din lies, cocking his head to the side in mock innocence, “could you show me?”

The tip of your tongue peaks out of the corner of your mouth. The unconscious tic is not one of irritation—not yet. Though before you’re able to respond, your opponent beats you to it.

“Yeah—I know where it is. It’s between fuck off and take a hike.”

Din turns his head, the cool, even tone of his words sharper than shrapnel as he address the man. “I was speaking to her.”

This is funny to you Din realizes—one of the tiny mysteries of your entirety clicking into the place of the puzzle map he’s conjured for you.

“Well, I don’t have the time of day for cowards who wear shiny buckets over their head.” The man gripes into his drink, dark eyes flicking over to Din as he sizes him up. “What’s a Mandalorian doing out here anyway? Thought your planet exploded or something.”

The man’s ignorance irks him—sure. How could it not? But with years of harsh words and jabs at the foundation of Din’s very being, he’s learned to adapt. It’ll always sting no matter how many layers of beskar he wears but you on the other hand…

Your eyes spark, molten and bright like the last solar flare on the surface of a decaying star. Each encounter Din’s had with you, he’s bared witness to the deep well of your anger that fuels your being like the auto-mechanical heart of a droid. He’s felt the bite of your rage firsthand, but this anger—this is the tragedy of the delicate mayfly wings trapped between the black teeth of misfortune—the story of the boy who rammed a spear into the flank of an ancient beast that bites before it barks and gnashes its yellowed teeth in warning.

Din’s hand inches towards his blaster. He’s not willing to weigh the safety of the kid against your rash decisions, despite it being on his behalf.

Though, just as quick as it appears, it recedes like the cool drawback of a tumultuous ocean. Din’s arm relaxes at his side as you release a puff of air.

Your scuffed up fingers, stained with years of engine grease, scars and dirt, curl around your half finished drink. You stand, lay your cards face down onto the table and flash the stranger a feral grin.

Without a word, you toss your drink directly into the man’s unsuspecting eyes. In another breath, the pointed edges of your knuckles fly forward and hook beneath the point of his chin with a meaty thunk. The man’s head whips backwards and connects with the gravely wall—

Out like a light.

Jaw clenched tight, you shake out your bleeding knuckles and gather up the strewn credits over the table. You shove them into the pockets of your jacket and side eye Din. “Restitutions for damages,” you mutter.

The other patrons keep their eyes to themselves as the three of you hurry out the door. Only an apathetic glance from the bar tender serves as proof that something did, in fact, occur. No one wants to dirty their nose sniffing about where they shouldn’t be when they have their own business to safeguard.

The crisp night air rustles the stray strands of hair that escape from your ponytail. Ghostly moonlight carves the shape of your cheeks into an almost ethereal sight—one of those deep space creatures with pointy teeth and hellfire for eyes. Stuff of legends you’d never think to look in a dingy bar for.

But he knows—Din knows that cool mask is just a front from what you hide. It is a hungry ghost that hounds your thin stretched shadow—what ifs and the glories of war you never really escaped. You forget that you are flesh and blood and ghosts are only air and echoes, nothing more.

Din is sharp edged steel. A stray fragment of a shattered mirror, the lacerated reflection of a nameless purpose and a faceless existence. He’s torn edges and cracked glass but his heart beats within his chest with the blood of a thousand suns. Two souls under the umbrella of the word damaged but entirely different in nature.

“No one—“ you growl, your voice a steady and lethal timbre that terrifies a part of Din’s unconsciousness, “—speaks that way to my friends.”

Touching.

“Don’t look at me like that, Creature,” you huff, staring down at the child who gurgles in return. “He deserved it—“

The reunion certainly wasn’t the one Din imagined, though it’s a relief to find that there’s no roughened edge like sandpaper over skin wedged between you. Picked up right where you left off—no questions asked and no inglorious retelling of how Din nearly died on the floor of a shitty cantina. There’s not a doubt in his mind that you'd laugh at him for it—it is sorta funny…

The rest of the evening is spent walking back to the hangar, arguing over the fact that yes Din should take the couch instead of that miserable little hovel he calls a bed, and spend the night. He’d have to find some other mechanic to work through the night if he wanted to leave in the morning, because you certainly did not want to volunteer for that. And so—Din reluctantly takes the couch and agrees to let you tackle the monstrosity of fixing up his ship for tomorrow.

He has to admit…the couch is a bit smaller than the length of his body, but it’s comfortable…maybe he’d buy a better blanket while he was here. As a treat.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You purse your lips and whistle. “I swear each time I see it, it gets worse. Y’know, I know a couple guys selling—“

“Can you fix it?”

You fold your arms over your chest and roll your eyes.“Yeah I can fix it, jeez—no need to get your undies in a twist.”

You try not to take offense, because hey—you’re offering him the info on the good deals on new ships (and at this point anything would be better than this old rust bucket). But if Din doesn’t want anything to do with that, then whatever. His loss.

When you wander onto the ship, toolbox in hand, the Mandalorian tags along. Unsure if he doesn’t trust you with his things or just wants to hang out, it blankets the space with an air of uncertainty. Turns out it was neither of those guesses. All he does is throw open his stash of weapons, collect his pile of vibroknives, and set them on a table to polish and sharpen.

Makes sense, you suppose. Everything has to be as shiny as his armor.

You drop to your knees near the closest wiring panel you find. You wrench open the paneling and frown at the disarray of sparking wires and tangled cords. You organized these perfectly last time he was here. “Who the fuck junked up my rigging?”

Mando sits at the little table tucked away in the corner, brooding over his cache of weapons. He shrugs. “Could’ve come loose when I landed.”

You roll your eyes at his half assed excuse and mutter a foul string of curses under your breath that’d make even Peli wince. It’s fine. It’s cool—no biggie. You can sort through this in a couple hours, maybe three.

But of course rarely anything goes as planned. As time ticks away, arms deep in wires older than the kriffing Clone Wars, the distractions begin. The scrape of metal on durasteel makes the hair rise into little pricks all up your arms—you shoot a glare over your shoulder. Din tilts his head, your kneeling self reflecting within the ever dark visor, features scrunched into an obvious tell of annoyance. Huffing, you bury your head back into your task at hand.

The second distraction arrives in the form of a quiet hum of curiosity originating from the Mandalorian. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bring a vibroblade up to his visor, inspecting the notch in the blade that disrupts the electrical current that flows through the weapon. Din then rubs his thumb over the handle of the vibroblade in a slow, sensual circle. You lick your lips and tear your eyes away. That shouldn’t be hot.

You furrow your brows and tear apart another wire, but the metallic tap, tap, tap of Din bouncing the tip of a different blade over the table is bothersome. You swing your head to your left, mouth parting to snap at him, but his hand—sans glove—brings you to a halting stop.

It’s alluring, the way his long, weathered fingers twirl the knife with practiced ease—like silk through water and followed by the low hum of electricity meant to slice through flesh. Din tosses it in the air, watching it spin three rotations then catches it by the handle. Your lips purse when his visor meets your eyes. He spins it between his fingers.

“Am I bothering you?”

Fucker.

You scowl. “It’s fine.”

The soft rasp of his thumb sliding along the flat of the blade entices the eye and damnit—he’s doing this on purpose.

“Doesn’t seem fine,” he hums.

“Well, it is.” You retort hotly. You snatch up your pliers and imagine you’re pulling his teeth out in place of the crooked paneling. “I’m currently thriving in my element.”

Din hums, the sound buzzing with grainy distortion. “Do you want a closer look?”

You chew your bottom lip. He’s playing with an open flame and you with volatile jet fuel.

“I don’t know, seems kinda lame from here.” You scoff, busying yourself by pinching and twisting another set of frayed wires between your fingertips. “A toothpick if anything.”

Din snorts behind you. The deadly whisper of beskar against the durasteel tabletop makes the hair on the back of your neck prick into points. You tense as heavy boots shuffle along the floor, the near silent rustle of armor tinkling behind you as Din steps closer. You’re slow to stand, even though the presence of the Mandalorian is no less than overbearing. You wipe your grimy hands onto a spare rag, continuing to face the paneling. You then turn, a coy smile threatening to break across your face.

Stars Din is broad—and close enough you swear you’re able to see the perspiration of your breath fog the beskar plating. Your eyes follow the seams of the cuirass, across the leather bandolier and up to his helmet that’s fixed in an impassive glare of tempered steel. Your back bumps into the wall as Din takes another step forward, boxing you in. To escape you’d need to duck under his arm and yet…you refuse to move.

Your breath catches as he languidly lifts his hand and taps the flat side of the vibroblade over your collarbone. The sharpened point tickles up the column of your throat, a crackle of nerves and your pounding pulse following in its wake. Din turns the blade to flat edge and pushes into the space right below your jaw—you squirm when he chuckles, the sound low and deep.

“You like this…”

Din grunts as your hand reaches between his legs, squeezing the growing hardness there. “So do you.”

Din circles his hand around your wrist with his free palm. Moons above his hands are warm. He murmurs your name—you shiver. “Tell me you want this—want me.”

A blush, hotter than the surface of Tatooine in the midday sun, rushes up your neck and pools into the apples of your cheeks. Maker you want him. With a shuddering sigh you nod—braving the scathing shrapnel of vulnerability. “I need you, Din—please.”

A low chuckle rumbles through Din’s chest. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard you say please before.”

Din drops his hold on your wrist as you roll your eyes. “Shut up, Bucket Head.”

The Mandalorian snorts and dips his head—gesturing towards the blade still lightly pressed against the base of your throat. “This ok too, Skitter?”

You flash him a wolfish grin. “Gonna fuck me with it?”

Din swears under his breath, crowding his body closer to yours. You hear his strained sigh as he dips his head closer, the beskar a chilly whisper against your cheek. “You’re depraved…take off your pants.”

You smirk, tear off your belt and shimmy out of your pants and underwear, bottom half now bare. His visor dips, entranced.

Your heart leaps into your throat, your pulse roaring in your ears as he settles one of his bare hands over the swell of your hip while the other trails the blunt edge of the handle from your clothes collarbone, and down your belly. From your mid thigh he skates the handle up your bare thigh and then rests it over the crack of your thigh. Heat flushes through your entire body, a stark contrast to the cool metal of the handle. A shiver races down each vertebrae when he drags it over the swell of your cunt and then carefully pressing it against your clit. You gasp and arch into the light touch, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he increases the pressure. It’s cold, rigid and filthy. Who knows where that knife has been—how many lives it’s taken or severed through muscle and skin.

You don’t find it in you to care all that much.

He trades his hold on your hip to slide his hand into your shirt, palming and kneading your breast through your bra as you roll and whine against his fingers. The tight circles he's drawing over your clit burns through your abdomen, drags you closer to the precipice that you’re all ready so close to. Fuck—it’s been so long since you’ve indulged in this sort of pleasure.You whine his name as wicked heat licking up your body and spreading to each limb. You arch into him, the handle of his knife slipping through your folds as arousal drips from your cunt.

Your groan as you tilt your hips into the handle, craving any lick of pleasure he’ll give. Your breath hitches as Din pushes the hilt closer to your throwing entrance, murmuring praise as he sinks the first couple inches inside of you. It’s cold—the knobby feel of the handle not too much thicker than one or two of your fingers combines. You huff and grab at his cowl, the warmth of his hand grazing your pussy each time he rocks his wrist forward.

“You’re so quiet,” Din goads, pulling the handle free from your aching center. “You usually have plenty to say.”

You shoot Din a glare, tongue weighed down by arousal to come up with a god retort. You lean your head back against the wall of the Crest and with a chuckle, Din’s hand leaves your shirt to pull you against his chest, the vocoder rumbling against your ear. The blade clatters to the floor and instead brings his calloused fingertips to your cunt. He softly rolls your swollen clit between his forefinger and thumb, delighting in the way you shake. “Be a good little thing and cum for me.”

Shit, you didn’t think it’d be that easy. Your body seizes as white hot heat ripples through your core. Stars, brighter than a dying sun burst behind your eyes, a high pitched cry filtering past your lips as shake and fall apart in his arms, your cunt clenching tight around the thick fingers he slips inside of you.

You whine as he pulls out, little aftershocks of pleasure wracking through your body in wake of your euphoric high. You groan as he lifts your head and pushes his digits, coated in your juices into your mouth. You lick them clean, tasting the tang of your own arousal and the salt on his skin. “Fuck—that was good.”

You can only imagine that Din rolls his eyes. He takes a step back but before he can escape—

You drop to your knees, a wicked smile curling over your lips. The muscles in his thighs jump as your palms smooth over the outsides of them, then up to his narrow hips, your thumbs lightly massaging the ligaments that protects the fragile joints. Din sucks in a sharp breath when your fingertips hook around his trousers.

“What are you doing?” Din asks, brushing a thumb over your jaw.

You pause and glance up at him. You quirk a brow. “Was gonna suck you off, but if you have something else in mind…“ He hisses and tips his head back, flashing the underside of his chin as your hand leaves his hip to cup the heavy bulge tenting in his trousers.

“Maker—“ He looks off to the side, inhales a choppy breath and then snaps his head back. “You’d…you’d do that?”

You nod and flash him an encouraging half grin. “Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

Din mumbles an incoherent string of words under his breath and shifts his weight onto his right leg. His fingers touch your cheek again then tuck a loose hair behind your ear. “But—“

Moons above this man is straight out of some kind of fucking fairytale—arguing about getting his dick sucked—or not.

Whatever.

“Din…” His breath hitches at the sound of his name. “I’m asking you kindly to fuck my mouth—it’s cool if you don’t wanna, but my knees already kriffing hurt and—“

He cuts you off with a hasty nod. “Yes—stars, please.”

Fuck yeah.

You smile and slide your eyes past Din’s legs to the cargo crate shoved up against the wall. “You should sit—easier that way.”

He nods and shuffles over, lightly perching himself on the edge and ready to flee at the barest hint of well—anything.

Din’s knee jumps when you place your palm over it. You assume his nerves are from the nature of his occupation—trouble always strikes when you least expect it—and what better time would that be when his pants are around his ankles. “Relax—I’m not gonna bite—maybe.”

He makes a wary sound low in his throat as your fingertips hook into the waistband of his trousers and pull. Din lifts up as you tug the fabric further down his legs, tan skin and solid muscle following in its wake. Fuck…

You swallow, mouth feeling quite dry when your eyes drift between his legs. Din is thick, a rosy brown color, flushed at the tip and curling towards his bellybutton. Beads of liquid shine at the tip, dribbling down the underside and pooling into the dark patch of curls at the base. Din’s fingers hook over the side of the crate, squirming under the weight of your stare.

Yeah—that’s gonna leave your jaw aching.

You hear his breath hitch, magnified by the crackle of the vocoder as your lips descend over a silvery scar on the inside of his right knee. You pepper a trail of wet kisses and light nips up his thighs, and by the time you reach the crease of his leg, his hips mindlessly rock with need.

The second the wet warmth of your tongue brushes over the tip of his cock, his hips jolt off the crate, a load groan echoing through the empty ship. It’s like striking a match to an open line of kerosene—devouring and explosive that’ll leave your delicate skin singed. You’re not nervous playing with fire if this barest scrap of wild heat is anything like burning to a crisp.

Emboldened by his initial reaction, you wrap your hand around the base, pulsing and achingly hard beneath the velvety flesh. You flatten your tongue over the tip, lapping up the sticky liquid the slip the head of him into your mouth. His hands fly to your hair, tightening into fists as he throws his head back. The beskar scrapes over the durasteel with a sharp squeal, but you don’t find it in you to care about the abrasive sound—eardrums be damned.

“Fuck—kriffing hell—“ Din snarls, arching his hips to seek more of your warmth. “K-keep going.”

Your own rekindled arousal blazes hot in your core hearing his stuttered pleas. You pull away to catch your breath, feeling almost guilty for doing so at Din’s low whine of protest. He picks his head up, watching as you languidly jerk him off—entranced with the way your hand rolls over the leaking tip, back down to the base, then up again. You could keep him like this—tease until he cracks under the pressure and begs you for whatever iota of pleasure you want to give but—

You’re not that mean.

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you part your mouth and slide nearly half of his length into your mouth. Din mutters something garbled, his hips jolting as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head.

Din shifts, arching his back and stuttering out broken whispers of encouragement. Placing your hand over his thigh, you can feel his pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips, wild and alive—something real beneath all that heavy armor and unforgiving helmet.

“You—you look…” He grunts as you hum around around his cock, swallowing him down further. “Shit—you look so p-perfect like this.”

You groan and squeeze your thighs together, attempting to ignore the gnawing hunger snapping at your insides.

Rolling your tongue along the underside of his shaft, your fingers slide over what your mouth cant reach—squeezing and gently coaxing him towards his high. He seizes up tight—yet, just when you think you’ve got him skidding off that precarious edge—

His hand fists your hair at the base your neck and yanks you off his cock. He huffs, breathy little pants as he folds into himself like he’s been punched in the gut, his head rolling forward onto his shoulder. Din shivers as he scrambles for control, beginning to loose that slippery foothold he’s so intent on maintaining. His cock, flushed an angry red and still slick with your saliva, twitches and throbs for the release so cruelly wrenched away.

You let him catch his breath. The fingers tangled in your hair go lax and drop away to rest at his sides. You swallow, his previous skittishness suddenly clicking into place. “Din, are you…?” A virgin. Your question tapers off, unsure if it’ll embarrass and scare him off.

“No,” he answers—not in a sharp way like you’d hear with a bruised ego—just stating a fact. “Just not—not this. Never had someone—stars—“

Your teeth roll your bottom lip between them, forcing your face to remain neutral despite the stroke of pride blooming singing in your chest. You’re his first—lucky enough to make this the best goddamned oral he’ll ever have. Something he’ll remember for years.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask, praying to the Maker he’ll say no.

He shakes his head, sucking in another calming breath and unfurling himself. His fingers clench into fists then relax, crackling with pent up energy and unsure nerves as to where he should put them. You solve it by threading your fingers through his and placing them around you head.

Your lips quirk. “You’re allowed to cum in mouth—don’t worry about it.”

His cock twitches as a quiet moan fizzles through the modulator. “You su-sure?”

“Oh, yeah.”

With a smile you bring your mouth back to his cock, tongue swiping up the entire length of him. Din groans as the soft warmth of your mouth slips over the flushed tip of cock, his thick length twitching as you hollow out your cheeks and suck. You bob your head as you slowly work him in further because even like this, hardly halfway into your mouth, you feel your lips stretching a bit too much around him. You groan and part your mouth wider, letting him sink into the soft warmth of your throat. Din inhales, the sound shaky and unsure as his hips twitch with a few tentative thrusts.

You take it slow—lifting your mouth nearly all the up to the tip then back down to the base. Din rolls his hips, helping you ease into the gentle pace. Saliva drips down his cock and over your knuckles making an absolute mess you have zero intentions of cleaning up. It’s his ship after all. Din swears as his hips stutter, your hand squeeing around him, trying to push him off that edge he so deserves. Din gasps your name, the pitch of his words knocking up to a lighter, more airy tone, warmer than melted butter.

“Ca-can’t believe, it—ah—it fits.” He groans with astonished reverence. You preen under his praise.

You swallow around him and grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you let him rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans.

You can feel is cock twitching over you tongue—he’s close—and when your eyes roll up to meet the darkened visor, he’s gone. He shouts your name and knots his fists around your hair as he spirals of that edge. You nearly gag from the force of his release hitting the back of your throat—cock throbbing and jerking in your mouth like he’s been denying himself release for months. His moans, fragile and gasping, filling the quiet space as his hips grind his cock deeper down your throat, his hands threaded into your hair acting as an anchor—the sole tether he has to the waking world.

Din’s grip relents as the last few catastrophic waves tear through his body. He doesn’t move his hands, just lets them rest over your skull as his chest heaves for precious air, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. You pull his still twitching cock halfway out, dragging the tip of your tongue below the frenulum while one of your hands circles the base of his length. Maker—he’s still going—

Last little dribbles of his cum spurt onto your tongue and drip over your knuckles still securely wrapped around him. His legs and lower abdomen flex when your hand falls lower to carefully knead at his balls, milking out his pleasure for all its worth. You let his softening cock slip from your mouth when he swears and mumbles your name.

When you rest your back against the wall, he slips himself back into his trousers and joins you. You take a risk and rest your head over the chilly beskar pauldron. You’d never call this love—the word is much too harsh for this delicate string of seconds. Love means giving pieces of yourself to others like martyrs give their hearts to the sky—or risk fragile skin against the rays of an unforgiving sun. Broken ribs and clenched fists, immensity beyond comprehension—

“You should come with us,” he says with a hesitant mumble. Love is formidable—but you know that somehow, here, pressed against Din’s side, that this is right. In a golden way, a honeyed way, a path that tastes of blood, freedom and blaster smoke that will leave your lungs stained with blackened soot. Cowardice has long made a home inside of your soul, and he’s offering you a chance to shake off the layer of frost clinging to your bones and step into the gentle merciful dawn.

“Yeah—alright, Din. I will.”

tags (only tagging some moots for now bc i have no clue what’s going on in this fandom anymore dbdndn): @goldafterglow @jango-fettish @djxrxn @blsmjoon @spookoofins @krissology @steeeeeeeviebb @teaofpeach @comphersjost @gummiishark @delusionsxfgrandeur @pettyprocrastination @huliabitch

#well it aint that good but it honest work wkerkjehr #my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #fanfic #star wars #sw #star wars fanfiction #jangofctts

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

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Hey. Thanks for answering my last ask. I did like Tom/Lily back at my day (lol as if I'm that old) but to be fair...any ship with Lily is better than Jilly.

One question. What you think of Hinny and Luna x Ginny? Cause nit gone lie I think Luna x Ginny has more potential than Hinny. But maybe is because I love the trope "pop falls for unpop"

... I’m not sure I’m supposed to feel as insulted as I do that I apparently barely cleared the very low bar that is Jily.

Moving on.

I’ve given most of my thoughts on Ginny and shipping here.

Harry/Ginny

To sum up for what you’re asking though, I think Harry/Ginny is a complete disaster. Oh, Harry’s the only one she has eyes for but... it is not a good relationship.

Both of them are attracted to the idea of one another and barely seem to know who the other is.

In the case of Ginny, she tries to be someone who she thinks Harry will be attracted to. She takes note of what failed with his relationship with Cho and goes out of her way not to be that. All of her actions in the sixth book are geared towards desperately getting Harry’s attention. More, she projected this heroic persona onto Harry Potter that she never seems to see anything beneath it.

Harry for his own part... likes Ginny’s skin? His attraction to her in Halfblood Prince is one of the weirdest things I have ever read. He seems to lust after her, sort of, we get this green rage monster that throws a fit every time he sees Dean Thomas with Ginny. However, he really doesn’t know much about her and proceeds to barely spend any time with her even when they start dating. That he leaves her in Deathly Hallows is very telling, and very chilling to me. Not only is Ginny not a part of “the gang” and not invited to their club house, Harry is effectively leaving her to be taken hostage by Voldemort. This doesn’t bother him, at all, but then nothing really does.

I also think Harry’s gay (he spends a lot more time drooling after attractive men in canon then he does attractive women), he just doesn’t know it.

So, I think his and Ginny’s marriage is likely a disaster. Ginny has affairs all the time as nothing works out the way she thought it would but is too in love with the fame, the money, and the dream of being Harry Potter’s wife to ever leave. Harry’s utterly oblivious to his wife cheating on him and has to have it pointed out by James Sirius. Harry doesn’t believe him.

I’ll put it like this, their marriage is worse than Ron and Hermione’s. And that, my friend, is a low bar.

A Tangent: Ginny’s Not Popular

I’m actually going to argue that Ginny’s not at all popular. In fact, I imagine she’s actually severely disliked. Harry’s just too oblivious to notice.

So, first, Ginny is the youngest sister of the Weasley family. We see the hit this has on Ron, who has a massive inferiority complex, but we don’t see what it means to Ginny. What we can assume though, is that she’s known, and that the instant she walks into school she has a reputation that’s not necessarily good.

Percy, her brother, is that smarmy asshole prefect.

Fred and George are those assholes who constantly prank everyone. Some think this is hilarious, usually when they’re not the victims, others aren’t too keen on this.

Ron’s that guy who’s constantly getting into trouble with Harry Potter, is a known dumbass who doesn’t even have a working wand in his second year (wizards are elitist like this), and earns hundreds of house points at the end of the year for committing arson.

All of this will feed into how people perceive Ginny before even meeting her. For better or for worse, she is a Weasley, and that means people will see her a certain way.

And then Ginny has the worst first year imaginable.

She isolates herself and pours her heart and soul into a diary. Every second she’s spending talking to Tom Riddle is a second she’s not making friends. More, Ginny’s behavior becomes more and more erratic as Tom Riddle begins to possess her. She starts missing classes, acting strangely, etc.

And I think it’s damning that no one noticed.

No one is watching Ginny, no one is even around her, so if she disappears for a few hours and wakes up covered in blood in the bathroom, nobody knows. Had Tom not written a message informing the entire school that Ginny had been kidnapped, no one would have noticed, Ginny would have died down there in the chamber and it would have been days until someone, maybe, put it together.

Ginny in her first year has no friends.

And then it’s too late.

We see with Harry that people in Hogwarts form friendships fast and they rarely change. You get your clique in you first few weeks of Hogwarts, and if you’re unlucky like Hermione then it takes a few months and a troll nearly killing you to find your group, and then you stick with that group.

Ginny comes back second year, everyone already has their best friends, there’s no room for her. She tries to integrate into a group, they just give her weird looks, and more remember her as that sickly lunatic.

Because remember, that she was possessed is not known beyond a few people. It’s never publicized, and most probably think Harry or Hagrid was behind the Chamber of Secrets Fiasco II: Electric Boogaloo.

So, you get a bunch of kids who don’t want to hang out with Ginny. And, Hogwarts houses are so insular, that Ginny can’t really go and hang out with anyone else.

For all that Ginny joins the quidditch team, for all she joins the DA, I don’t think she ever really has friends. She’s just the youngest and weirdest Weasley.

And then comes her fifth year.

Ginny decides she’s going to date every guy in Hogwarts to get Harry’s attention. Now, good or bad, this is going to get Ginny a reputation, a very negative one. To the male Hogwarts population: Ginny’s an easy lay. To the female Hogwarts population: Ginny’s that bitch who will steal your boyfriend.

Halfblood Prince will not make Ginny any friends.

Ginny/Luna

It has more potential than Harry/Ginny but I personally don’t think it’s going to happen.

Like everyone else, Ginny looks down on Luna, which is a bit hilarious as per the above I don’t think Ginny’s rolling in popularity either. Luna’s weirdness is tolerated at best in a sort of, “Oh, look how cute and nuts she is, let’s pat Luna on the head.”

More, as I explained in the Ginny shipping meta linked, Ginny only has eyes for Harry and I think it would take a lot for her to look in any other direction. And to go for Looney Lovegood instead?

Part of Harry’s appeal is that he’s Wizarding Jesus, he’s important, wonderful, charming, a prince in Ginny’s eyes. Luna’s that batty girl who lives down the street and has radishes in her ears.

I just don’t see Ginny ever going for it.

As for Luna, she’s hard to get a read on, but I believe she’s fully aware of what different people think of her. She’s a very kind and generous person who overlooks this for her friends, but in a romantic partner... I think Luna is waiting for someone who truly understands her or if not that then at least truly likes her.

I don’t think that will ever be Ginny.

#ask #anon #harry potter

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hawkwhore · 4 years

Note

hi hi hi could i request a hawk imagine where it’s an enemies to lovers kinda thing, so hawk is still in cobra kai and y/n is in miyagi do. basically tori hurts her and he sees her after and gets protective over her, then they get close and kinda secretly date... something like that haha THANK YOUUU <33333

Do Better — Eli Hawk Moskowitz x Female!Reader

HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I literally had an entirely different fic at like 8k words for this before I decided it didn’t fit close enough to the prompt and I just completely started over and this one was even longer than the first so that’s why it took me literal ages LOL.

includes; swearing, fluff, fighting, so much angst

words; 11,394 (im sorry its a whole ass novel)

this takes place late s2, after demetri and hawk’s friendship ends but before eagle fang forms!

Most of your time in high-school you spent in a bubble, keeping to yourself and just your few friends. You didn’t involve yourself in other people’s crap very often, but when an all-out karate war happened at the end of your junior year, you couldn’t keep lurking in the shadows anymore.

Bullying was becoming heavy at your school, and while you weren’t usually a target, you grew tired of watching other people get hurt. Primarily, by a familiar face to you-- Eli Moskowitz.

Not that you knew him particularly well, but you remembered the shy boy you’d shared classes with, and you always tried your best to be nice to him knowing how others treated him.

You never would’ve thought that now he’d be the bully, destroying the confidence of other kids who were just like him.

“Look at this kid,” He laughed to his friend, Mitch. The two boys were standing in the hall, hovering over a small, scrawny boy who looked terrified. “You wanna be in Cobra Kai? Well, see, we had to be un-flinched first. We can do that for you right now, though. See how much you can take.” He teased, threatening a punch, watching the boy wince at his movement.

When you were in the halls on your way to your next class, you witnessed this horrible incident. You watched for a moment, before deciding that it was time for you to step out of your bubble. “Hey, leave him alone.” You said annoyedly, urging the boys to give it up.

Hawk turned to you and leered, and Mitch pushed the kid against the locker so he wouldn’t move while they dealt with you. “Be careful who you talk to like that, princess.” He moved dangerously close, and despite the feelings of anger you had towards him, your stomach dropped a little at the nickname.

Not letting it affect you, you came back bitterly. “Oh yeah? And who am I talking to, Eli?” His face contorted in disgust at the use of his real name. “You know, it’s sad, how you became everything you used to despise. I remember the other side of you, you were sweet..” You said, smiling to your self in remembrance. “And now look at you.” Looking at him in resentment, you finished.

Turning angrily on his heel at your words, Hawk punched the boy in the face and let him go running. He looked back at you with a look of victory, and Mitch smirked. “You better watch your back.” Hawk said threateningly, and knocked his shoulder into yours as he walked to his class.

Through the rest of the day, Hawk thought about you. He knew who you were; Y/N, the only girl to ever be nice to him during his shier days. He remembered the feeling he got any time you’d talked to him, and also how pretty you looked each time you did.

He had almost forgotten until then, how much he had always admired you. He even wanted to ask you out all that time ago, but now too much has changed. Way too much, clearly, because when the commercial for Miyagi-Do came out, you were quick to join.

It was that interaction with Hawk that really set you off, actually. You wanted to be able to stop the cruelty, and you thought that joining Miyagi-Do for defense would be a good start.

Little did you know, the rivalry would only grow.

As weeks passed, Miyagi-Do gained students and flourished. But in the meanwhile, Cobra Kai only got rougher, angrier, and just.. worse, in general.

You had done your best to avoid fights, (like a true Miyagi-Do would) but on a particularly bad day of yours, you were unlucky enough to find yourself running into Tory outside of school.

Being close friends with Sam, you knew to stay clear of Tory after hearing what she did to her. You thought Tory was a vile human being, though, and if she were to start anything-- she was probably the one person you wouldn’t hesitate to absolutely destroy.

When on your way to the dojo, you took a pit stop at a convenience store to pick up some snacks since you had some time to kill between after school and when practice started. You were met with an unpleasant surprise on your way out, when you saw Tory approaching the store.

The two of you made eye contact as you crossed paths, and you decided to ignore her and keep walking. Until, as you walked past each other, Tory stuck out her leg and tripped you over the concrete pathway.

“Are you kidding me, bitch?” You pushed yourself up, scoffing at her, and she smiled maniacally. “What’d you just call me?” She teased, obviously looking for a fight.

As much as you wanted to stay calm, you were pushed over the edge. “You heard me, bitch.” You repeated, letting her know you were not afraid. “What’s your problem? I keep away from you and you just can’t help yourself from starting something. I’ve never even done anything to you.” You confronted Tory, looking for an explanation for her behavior.

It was true, you’d hardly ever interacted with her-- but since you’re in Miyagi-Do and friends with Sam, she just didn’t like you. And Tory being Tory, if she didn’t like someone, she was going to be a bitch about it.

She laughed at your attempt to reason with her, and looked at you in self-satisfaction. “I just think it’d be fun to watch you bleed.” She seemed proud at the insult, stepping forward threateningly-- but you thought it was pretty lame.

Clearly, she had no real answer for the questions you asked her. She was far gone in her own world, using only anger to dictate her decisions.

You had let out a disappointed sigh, shaking your head, and turned to simply leave the situation, remembering that it wasn’t worth it. But Tory had other plans.

She grabbed your wrist, twisting it painfully forcing your body to face her. You quickly rotated it to release yourself from her grip, and punched her in the face with your newly freed hand.

“Leave me alone, Tory. This fighting for no reason crap is bullshit.” You said, stepping out of her proximity and holding your fists up in case of needed defense. Tory felt blood trickle from her nose, and as she wiped it from her face, she threw you a sickening sneer.

Seemingly avid on letting her rage out on you, she only continued. “You’re pathetic.” She cackled, taking a swing at you. You blocked this, but the movement left an opening for her to then kick your stomach, which sent you to the ground.

Before you could manage to get up again, she was hovering over you, punching your face repeatedly. It wasn’t until the pain was sinking in that you finally gained enough power to push her off, rolling forward and pinning her down tightly.

You grabbed a fistful of her hair, turning her face towards the ground. “Give it up, Tory.” She stayed quiet, breathing heavily, until she used her remaining strength to free her arm and dig her elbow into your side.

You fell back at this, and you were now both sat on the ground, mere inches from each other. “Seriously, I mean what’s the point? What are you gaining from this besides a couple of bruises?” You stood up, asking again.

You genuinely wanted to know, what could make a person so heartless. You had done nothing to provoke her, yet she was so intent on hurting you. Your question had unfortunately only sparked her rage again, the way you acted so ‘above it all,’ in Tory’s mind made her only angrier.

She rose, charging towards you for another strike, when the owner of the convenience store came out. “What the hell is this? Do I need to call the police?” The man asked. He had caught you in the blocking position of Tory’s attack, and she bitterly pushed herself off of you.

“You got lucky.” She spat, walking back towards the store she was originally on her way into. “Think about it, Tory! Why?” You yelled as she walked away, wanting your final words to sink into her.

You assured the owner that you were fine, and that he didn’t need to get the cops involved. You took out your phone and checked your complexion in the front camera, cringing seeing the cuts and bruises from Tory’s punches all over your face.

But remembering the bloody nose you had given her in your first punch, you smiled to yourself. Looking at your phone’s clock, you had certainly killed the time, but much more than you had wanted to. You were going to be late, so you texted Sam, alerting her that you got in a fight (sparing the details for later,) and that you would be late to practice.

You figured you could just clean up your cuts when you got home, it wasn’t a big deal, probably. But on your walk to the dojo, a passing car slowed at the sight of you. You started walking faster, instantly assuming the worst, but when the window rolled down, you heard a familiar, extremely unpleasant voice. Hawk.

“On your way to practice, huh? Still no car?” He taunted, knowing you still hadn’t saved up enough to buy your own. You glanced at him and rolled your eyes, continuing to walk down the sidewalk. How many enemies were you going to bump into today?

That was when he noticed your face. “Jesus, Y/N, what happened to you?” He laughed, fully stopping the car. You halted and responded annoyedly, “Tory happened. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late.” Turning back towards the walkway, you continued down the street.

But before you could get far, Hawk had gotten out of his car and caught up to you. “You’re not seriously headed to the dojo like that are you?” He said confusedly, trying to keep up with your pace.

You looked at him like his question was stupid, and continued walking. At your ignoring of him, he pushed his point further. “You need to clean those cuts.” He said, still following close behind you as you walked.

“Since when do you care?” You said irritated, continuing to disregard the boy’s words. At this, he finally stopped following. “You know what, fine.” He stood, speaking sharply, and you looked at him curiously at his abruptness. “Just trying to help, or, be nice or whatever.” He muttered aggravatedly, raising his hands in mocking surrender at your attitude.

You had ignored his concerns, because quite honestly you didn’t believe he was actually concerned. You had assumed it was some sort of set up for a new insult, or a way to just mess up your face even more.

“Oh yeah? That’s pretty unusual for you, isn’t it?” You said rudely, engaging back in the conversation. Hawk pursed his lips together and shifted uncomfortably.

You didn’t know it, but Hawk still cared about you. He may have changed, but his feelings for you hadn’t— as much as he tried to get them to. And right now, seeing you hurt, and since there was nobody around to judge him for it, he wanted to help you.

“Look, I’ve got some first aid stuff in my car. Let me help.” He stayed where he was, not wanting to provoke you, and spoke softly, nudging his head towards his car.

You narrowed your eyes looking at him, feeling skeptical of accepting the invitation. He noticed your hesitation, but did not back down, looking at you expectantly for an answer.

You let out an exasperated sigh, and walked towards his car without saying a word. Continuing to argue with him about it seemed like a waste of time to you at this point.

Hawk smiled to himself in relief that you gave in. Hurrying after you, he retrieved the first aid kit from the trunk of his car and ran to open the passenger seat door.

“You wanna sit?” He pointed at the seat, motioning you to take it. You dropped your bag and got in the car, still glaring at Hawk.

He seemed sincere in his intentions, but you really just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Who knows what he could really be planning?

As you took your seat, you reached out to take the kit from Hawk’s grasp. “Hold on,” he said, moving the box away from your reach.

You gave him a bothered look, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. “Have you ever even done this before?” He said, referring to cleaning up after a fight.

“No?” You shrugged, “It can’t be that hard.” You said impatiently, reaching for the box again. “Can you please just let me do it? I’ll show you how for next time.” He practically pleaded, wanting to make sure it was done right so you healed properly.

You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to him, but you were tired of going back and forth with him. “Whatever, just make it quick. I’ll miss all of karate class at this rate.” You complained, moving closer to the edge of the seat so Hawk could reach you.

The height of his car made you two the same height, so Hawk was face to face with you as you were seated. “Hmm, miss a Miyagi-Do lesson? I don’t see the problem.” He joked, almost making light of their rivalry.

You smiled lightly at that, playfully rolling your eyes, but not saying anything. He stood close enough to examine your face, and it was close enough to make you both nervous.

It was silent as he opened the kit and started to clean your cuts, but you broke it to ask a question that was burning in you. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked at you for a second, looking reluctant to answer your question. “What do you mean?” He dodged, continuing to tend to your bruises.

You laughed, knowing full well he knew what you meant, but deciding to answer him anyway. “Why are you helping me? We aren’t friends.” You said plainly, making sure to keep your face still.

“I don’t know, you just obviously needed it.” He brushed off the seriousness of the question, starting to dab the cloth over your lip so you couldn’t talk.

You pushed his hand away lightly. “That’s hardly an answer. You’d never help a Miyagi-Do, so why?” You snapped, not letting his hand near your face again until he answered.

He finally took a step back, and stared at you looking defeated. “You’re the only one who was ever nice to me. Before.. this.” He pointed to his hair, referring to the era of The Hawk.

You crossed your arms skeptically. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” You asked expectantly, and he rolled his eyes. “Demetri’s different, okay? He betrayed me. But you..”

He trailed off, struggling to maintain eye contact with you. “You were never anything but good to me. You deserve better.” He said, and your heart both stung and fluttered at once, trying to figure out what was going on with him.

You wondered if his actions were truly coming from a place of sincerity. It was very unlike him to be anything but an asshole, so hearing something like that come out of his mouth really made you think.

He tried to ignore the sentiment he had just said by walking back towards you and starting to tend to your wounds again, but you only pushed him back for a second time.

“I don’t understand what happened to you.” You said sadly, examining the way he stood. “I changed.” He said monotonously, trying to avoid matching your energy of seriousness.

His hot-and-cold temper was starting to annoy you, the way he would open up just to close right back down again.

“Yeah, and not for the better. Are you even happy?” You said, frustrated, looking at him hard. His face turned sour.

“More than I was before!” He yelled, stepping towards you threateningly. You were taken aback at his outburst, suddenly feeling small as he grew angrier. “My life was hell, remember?” His voice cracked, and he tried to calm himself as he saw the way you leaned back into your seat uncomfortably.

“Look, I’m sorry for keeping you, I probably cleaned you up enough so... just go.” He said softly, sounding regretful as he moved out of the way so you could get out of the car.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. You felt completely clueless on how he was feeling, and you didn’t want to leave it like this. “Hawk-“, you started, but he cut you off. “No, just go.” He pointed away. “I was stupid to think I’d get a second chance with you.” He muttered to himself, turning to walk around to the drivers seat of his car.

“Wh— second chance? What do you mean?” You shouted after him and hopped off the seat, grabbing his arm before he could get too far.

At your tug of his arm, he looked back at you with the most intense feeling in his eyes. Not wanting to use his words anymore, Hawk turned to grab your wrist from the hand that was already resting on his arm, and pulled you against him.

Hawk smashed his lips onto yours, holding you loosely in fear of your rejection. You weren’t expecting it, but you didn’t pull away. Your kiss continued and you subconsciously shuffled backwards, now being able to lean against the side of the car as he grew more passionate in his movements.

Being with him like this felt amazing, but it was confusing, too-- you had to pull away and clear up this situation.

Finally letting each other go, Hawk looked at you with glossy eyes. You had no idea where all of this came from or what to say, so you were silent as you waited for him to explain.

He knew what you were waiting for, and sighed deeply before expressing how he felt. “I just feel like after everything, I owe you my best.” Hawk said quietly, and you waited for him to go on, having not yet made up your mind on the whole situation.

You enjoyed the kiss, yes-- but you didn’t understand why it had happened, and that was something you needed to know before anything could proceed further. Hawk was a jerk, and he was going to have a lot of explaining to do for you to suddenly be able to forget that.

He moved even closer, and reached his hand out to brush your hair away from your face. “And I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He whispered, ghosting his fingers across the bruises on your face.

You felt a shiver down your spine as he touched you, closing your eyes in the moment. “And,” he pulled away from you, his voice changing to a more regular tone again, “I don’t ever want to be the reason you feel pain. Not after all those times you helped me escape mine.” He said, reaching out to hold your hand, as he referred to how you were there for him so long ago.

Pure concern and care for Hawk overtook you as the words left his lips, and you had never felt so conflicted in your life. It made sense to you now why he would often avoid you, whereas others he’d make it his mission to pick fights with.

He had just admitted to caring about you, and that he never wanted to be at fault for your hurt. He had a reputation to uphold, but he really did have a soft spot for you that never went away.

You felt like you were talking to Eli again, as though the sweet boy he once was had never left, but you also knew that once this moment was over, he’d go back to his corrupt ways again. And that terrified you.

All these new feelings for Hawk were rising in you, but how could you act on them when he was supposed to be your enemy?

He studied your expression, waiting for you to say something. He felt more confident now, seeing as you kissed him back, but he was still nervous for whatever you were about to say.

“What do we do?” You spoke shakily, your expression timid and lost. He caressed his thumb over your hand, noticing your own nerves. “What do you mean?” He asked, not expecting that to be your first question.

“I’ve always cared about you and you know that, but then you go through all these changes and become a total dick, and now you kiss me and tell me how you care too.” You say awkwardly, trying to point out the weirdness of the situation. “I’m confused, Hawk, and afraid. We can’t be together when everything about our lives will keep us apart.” You whimpered, scattering your eye contact.

His heart leapt at the mention of you two being together, but frowned once registering the context of the words. He suddenly felt guilty, seeing how distressed you were. Maybe he shouldn’t have done this, he thought.

But it was too late now, and as he released your hand to move forward and hold you, he never wanted to let go.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into your ear. He knew his recent actions since joining Cobra Kai weren’t exactly admirable-- he knew he should do better. But it was hard; and all he could muster right now, was an apology.

There was a lot to process in such a short moment of time, and you felt overwhelmed. You felt comforted and safe as he held you, but at the same time you felt wrong for feeling that way.

Maybe he was trying to do right by you, but would that be enough if he continued to act terribly when everyone else was around? You needed some time to think. “I should go.” You pulled away from his grasp, trying to be gentle even though your exit was abrupt.

“Oh,” he nodded, watching as you picked up your karate bag. “I just don’t want everyone at the dojo to worry.” You said, trying to rid the conversation of its tension.

He was trying to play it cool, but he was screaming on the inside, terrified that once you left you would never talk to him again. “Just promise you’ll fix that when you get home.” Referring to your still-slightly-messed-up face, he urged you, unable to refrain from making sure you took care of yourself.

You smiled sadly and nodded in response, feeling awkward about everything as you turned to walk back on your route towards the dojo. “And um,” You looked back at him once more. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” You said, assuming he wouldn’t want his Cobra Kai friends to find out he had kissed a Miyagi-Do.

His heart broke when you said this-- you basically thought he was ashamed of you? In a way you were right, he didn’t want them to know. But the guilt that spread across his face at your words, showed how badly he wanted to tell everyone just how much he liked you.

Clearing his throat, he tried to pull himself together again. “Right, yeah. See you.” He said, and watched you for a moment as you walked away.

Getting back into his car, he fought the emotions threatening to spill out, and pushed them away as he headed home. He couldn’t stop thinking about his next move, and what would happen next time he saw you.

Obviously the first thing he would want to do is kiss you, and hold you, and touch you.. but he knew that instead he would likely end up being encouraged by his friends to attack you in some way.

He couldn’t just say, ‘back off guys, she’s cool, i like her now.’ because that would definitely earn him a beating and a seat at the rejects table. He had been fighting these feelings for so long because of this exact reason, and he was pissed at himself that he couldn’t have just kept it under control for longer.

It would have been easier for him, and you. Even you were worrying as you walked to practice about what you were going to do when you saw him again. Your friends may be more forgiving than Hawk’s, but you doubted they’d be particularly thrilled about any of this news.

They would surely tell you to be careful, not to trust him, that it was just a game to find a weakness in you. These doubts inflicted your mind constantly, and it sucked that you had to figure all of it out on your own.

You were a half-hour late to karate when you arrived, and luckily Sensei Larusso had the tools to heal the remaining injuries on your face. You explained what happened with Tory, but you didn’t tell them about Hawk.

Your classmates were angry, Sam especially, and you were too. But after everything, you knew nobody in Cobra Kai was really in their right mind. Tory was an out of control girl with aggression issues, and Hawk was constantly battling a feeling of pressure and pent-up rage.

The worst thing about being in Miyagi-Do, was knowing the right way to go, and knowing that the right way was going to be a long, slow, and difficult process. It was a waiting game at this point-- how many fights would it take for the Cobra Kai kids to realize that wasn’t what they needed to do?

How much pain would they all have to endure, to realize there were better ways to solve their problems? You had only hoped that Hawk taking this step towards you was a step in the right direction-- and that maybe the rest of the Cobras would soon follow.

But until then, it was a secret. And the next few times you saw Hawk were an extreme struggle for the both of you.

Each passing day that you’d make eye contact at school, you’d both immediately look away. Neither of you had spoken or even texted since the kiss, and you were both failing miserably at proper communication.

At first, you thought that maybe the whole thing had been a mistake, and maybe it should just be left alone. But recalling everything Hawk said to you that day, you couldn’t ignore how real it felt. You wanted to be with him, but you had no clue how to go about that.

You were waiting for Hawk to make the next move, but to Hawk-- the ball was in your court. You had left him there, with no definite answer on how you felt about it, and never got back to him since. It seemed to him like you wanted to forget about it, so when one of Moon’s parties rolled around that weekend, he decided to forget about it too.

You were coming to the party, but got there late; and what a wonderful sight it was for the first thing to see as you walk in be Hawk, face inches away from another girl’s, flirting the night away.

Of course, you thought, feeling disgusted at what was in front of you. Of course everything he said was bullshit. You couldn’t figure out for the life of you what his goal was in pretending to care for you, especially when he got basically nothing out of it except a stupid kiss he could’ve gotten from anyone-- but clearly none of it was as real as you thought it was.

It’d been a few days, sure, but you thought maybe tonight you’d finally just talk to him. You watched as the girl played with the string of Hawk’s hoodie, and feeling a pang of jealousy you decided to walk by them, making sure your presence was known.

It definitely worked, because at the notice of your movements he excused himself from the conversation and followed you out towards the pool, where you had gone to get away from the sight of Hawk and the girl.

“Hey.” He whispered, as you poured yourself a drink. “Hi.” You replied boredly with your back turned to him, not exactly feeling excited to have a conversation with him.

He looked around, scoping out who may be listening, but luckily the only others outside were heavily invested in the drinking game going on at the other side of the patio.

Hawk could tell you were bothered about the girl, but didn’t understand why, since you had so obviously been avoiding him.

“Can we talk?” He asked, still being cautious as to not attract any attention. “Go ahead.” You were being difficult, but quite frankly you thought he deserved it. He made you spend days analyzing what had happened between you, only for him to move on from it after a few days?

He stomped closer, and you looked up at him. “You know we can’t talk here.” He nodded his head towards the back of the yard, hoping you’d go with him somewhere private.

You scoffed, and looked at the spot doubtfully. You were upset, but still curious to hear what he had to say. “Fine.” You rolled your eyes, feeling disappointed in yourself for giving in, but you couldn’t pretend you weren’t dying to know what the hell he was thinking.

Hawk walked eagerly to the secluded part of Moon’s property, hoping to get some clarity from you. But before Hawk could say anything, your anger got the best of you.

“So what the hell is your problem?” You started, as soon as you knew you were out of earshot from the rest of the party. Hawk looked taken aback, his eyebrows immediately coming together. “Me? What are you talking about?” He said, offended.

You looked at him in disbelief, mouth dropping open slightly. “Are you joking? Are we going to pretend you weren’t just about to make out with that girl in there?” You said, feeling a twinge of hurt from your own words.

His face knotted in confusion and annoyance. “Seriously? You’re jealous right now? After I confessed everything to you, and you avoided me for days afterwards, I was just supposed to think you actually wanted me?” He tried to keep his voice down, but his emotions were getting the better of him.

“What? I just needed some time to think! It’s not like you bothered to text me either!” You whisper-shouted, now feeling like you were missing something.

“Well when you kiss someone and they basically run away from you, who’s responsibility do you think it is to reach out after?!” He threw his arms up in bafflement, looking at you expectantly.

Your face fell to a look of guilt, and eventually his did too. Suddenly you both felt like idiots at how far you jumped to conclusions.

“I was gonna talk to you today. But when I saw you in there with that girl, all these insecurities just came over me. I thought everything you said was just some Cobra prank and it never meant anything.” Your face drooped, feeling a little embarrassed to admit any of this.

His eyes saddened, and he shook his head. “And I just thought you hated me, and that no matter what I said it’d never be enough for you to forgive me.” He explained his own worry, and your eyes started to water at his words.

Feeling overwhelmed after finally being able to piece together what had been going on this whole time, you sprung into his arms, hugging him tightly. You both stayed embraced, enjoying the feeling of comfort from each other once again, until you finally felt strong enough to pull yourself away.

He kept a hand around your head, as though cradling something delicate. “I meant everything I said that day. It’s not a scheme. I want to be with you.” He told you, proving your suspicions wrong.

You smiled weakly, feeling warm at his confession, but nervous for what’s to come. “I’m sorry I never texted you, but I just don’t get how we’re going to do this.” You said, unconvinced. “We can’t tell anyone, and despite whatever we have, there are a lot more reasons why we won’t work than will.” You look away, your mood of happiness faltering at the idea of being realistic.

“I mean, you know I like you Hawk. And maybe it’s different for us, but, I can’t exactly support the way you treat other people.” You say reluctantly, trying not to sound rude. Hawk gulped, looking down shamefully.

Not wanting to think realistically right now, he ignored what you said and pulled you closer. “We’ll figure it out.” He said sweetly, and moved his hand to lift your chin, kissing you tenderly. As nervous as you were about all of it, the way he kissed you somehow seemed to make all your worries disappear.

Just then as your lips met, sirens went off nearby. “Shit, cops?” Hawk said, breaking apart from you. You giggled at the unfortunate turn of events. “You go that way,” you pointed him in the opposite direction of where you were planning to exit, not wanting others to notice you were together. “See you around.” You said playfully, and he caught on to your plan.

Before he could give you a final peck or even say goodbye, you were gone around the corner of the house, and he wondered longingly when he’d finally be able to kiss you again.

The next couple days at school you’d both done your best to avoid looking suspicious with each other. There were many stolen glances, and lots of private texts, but you both somehow managed to keep whatever fling you two had completely under wraps.

Though you had been initially uncomfortable with the whole secret-dating-thing, you eventually gave up on worrying about what would happen if others found out. You were happy, and having a lot of fun sneaking around with Hawk.

You noticed he had even toned down some of his bullying, and your heart felt full at the thought that he might have done that for you. Of course, there were always a few ‘slip-ups’.. but he made sure you weren’t around to see those.

Even if it was difficult, it was thrilling in a way-- having make-out sessions in his car when no one was around to see, and slipping in through each others’ windows at night to see each other...

It was fun, pretending to hate each other by day, and then not being able to stay away from each other by night. It felt like the whole school was being pranked, and you two were the only ones in on it.

It had been a few weeks now since you admitted to liking each other at Moon’s party, and you were now headed to the sports shed near the soccer field where Hawk had asked you to meet him after school.

You’d came here and gotten a little wild with him twice before, so at the invitation you fully expected to be met with an aggressive Hawk, ready to hook up. But instead when you opened the shed door, he was standing shyly and gave you the sweetest smile.

“Hey,” he said, taking a small step forward to meet where you were standing. “Hi, baby,” you grinned and kissed him chastely, taking note of the more innocent energy coming from him today.

He wrapped his arms around you, his eyes examining your face adoringly. “Um,” he said, radiating nervousness and backing up slightly. “What’s up?” You smiled at him curiously, taking his hands in yours.

After only a moment, he released his hands from your hold, and you suddenly felt concerned. Why was he acting so weird? You watched confusedly as he fiddled with the inside pocket of his jacket, not saying a word.

Pulling out a small box, he opened it to reveal a simple but beautiful silver necklace. “Hawk!” You gasped, looking at it in awe. He felt more confident at your reaction, and felt safe to say something again.

“I thought that, since we always have to act around each other, you could wear it as a reminder of how we really feel.” He said, searching your expression for some sort of approval.

You stared at him in admiration, not yet able to find the words to respond. “It’s simple, so nobody will think it means anything, but, we’ll know.” He spoke again, hoping for it to grant a response from you this time.

Your face began to bloom with happiness. Taking the box from his hands, you kissed him passionately. “I love it. Can you put it on me?” You asked cheerfully, and Hawk smiled brightly. “Yeah,” he nodded excitedly, turning you around.

You did your best to move your hair out of the way, and Hawk gently pushed the few stray strands to the side. Feeling his fingers brush across your skin, you breathed heavily. You could feel his own breath hot on your neck, as he clasped the two ends of the jewelry together.

With your back still against his torso, he placed his hands around your waist, starting to leave soft kisses against your ear, and down towards your collarbone.

You closed your eyes, soaking in the feeling, until the door of the shed barged open. You stumbled away from each other in shock, and looked to see Tory standing in front of the both of you.

“I knew it! What the hell is this, Hawk?” She screamed, prowling towards you. Feeling completely unprepared from the utter suddenness of the situation, you stepped back in fear. “What are you doing here!?” Hawk shouted, ignoring Tory’s question as he blocked her path from getting to you.

She sneered at the both of you, stopping as she noticed his protectiveness over you. “I’ve noticed how you sneak off at the end of school. I finally decided to follow you here.” She said matter-of-factly, giving you a glare.

“So what is she, Hawk? Your girlfriend?” She taunted, starting to circle you. Out of everything she’d said so far, that was the thing that actually made you the most nervous. You hadn’t actually used that word before... ‘girlfriend,’ you hadn’t really made it official, despite how much it felt like you already had.

You weren’t sure how Hawk would react now that he was caught, but you desperately hoped he would say, ‘Yes, she is, and I love her.’ But that was nowhere close, to what he said.

“What? No! We’re just having some fun, alright? It doesn’t mean anything.” He forced a laugh, stepping away from you. Your heart ached. This is what you were afraid of. You knew it was probably for the best for him to have said that, but you couldn’t ignore the hurt you felt when you heard him say it.

You wished he would’ve right then and there just admitted it, stood up for himself, and chosen you. He could’ve just told the truth, and left Cobra Kai, and been with you. But you weren’t enough. He had a reputation to uphold.

“Oh, really.” Tory scoffed, barely believing his lie as she looked between the two of you. “You can have fun with anyone, Hawk, and you a choose a Miyagi-Do?” She spat, staring him down, and his usually-confident demeanor diminished instantly. “Break it off, or I tell everyone.”

Storming off, her threat lingered in the air as the two of you stood alone, unable to meet each other’s gazes.

“Maybe we should just end this, Y/N.” Hawk spoke meekly, finally breaking the silence. Your eyes widened in horror, forcing yourself to look up at him. “What?” You said, your voice faltering. “So that’s just it then?”

Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes again as he met your stare. “We don’t have any other choice!” He shouted angrily, getting in your face. Your mouth fell agape at the way he was acting, your expression hardening.

“Yes, we DO!” You shouted back, and sobs started to escape you. You of course meant the choice being he stands up to the Cobras, and fights for your relationship. You understood his dilemma in the beginning, but at this point none of it seemed worth it to you anymore.

His eyes were fixated on you intensely, and his mind was running a mile a minute trying to figure out what to do.

“You can easily stand up to them, the Cobras! You’re stronger than all of them combined. Why won’t you fight for us?” You cried, searching for any sign in his face that showed he regretted his words. He had never said so, but you could tell the only thing holding him back was the fear of the Cobras’ reactions.

His insides scrambled with guilt watching you cry. But he had to stay strong. Unaffected, unfazed, completely unbothered. That’s how he forced his expression to appear as he turned and left the shed, leaving you alone and in pain as you watched your worst fear come true.

“Hawk!” You yelled after him, but he only kept walking. “What happened to never wanting to be the reason I felt pain?” Your voice cracked, and you wiped your tears from your face, giving up.

Your words cut into Hawk like a knife. If even possible, Hawk was hurting more than you. Each step he took farther away from where you stood, he felt his heart scatter into another piece. He wished things could be different, too-- but you were too much of a risk.

Cobra Kai may be a large reason for his troubles, but it was also the only reason he was still on top. He wanted you so bad, but he was too afraid to let go of everything else just to have you.

It was safer this way, he told himself. If nobody knew, you’d be safer. You wouldn’t have to be involved in the drama that would come from it, you wouldn’t have another reason for the Cobras to come after you, and you wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.

Hawk repeated these things to himself over and over to make himself feel better about the way things ended. But no matter what he told himself, it was never enough for him to fully believe that he made the right choice.

Feeling helpless, you called the only person you thought might understand. “D-Demetri?” You spoke into the phone, taking a gasp for air between sobs.

“Y/N? Are you ok?” He answered, sounding worried. “I need to talk to you, can you-” You paused, trying to catch your breath. “Can you come get me?” You were nervous he wouldn’t be able to, but you needed someone in person, not over text.

You and Demetri weren’t particularly besties, so for you to call him out of the blue, crying, was extremely worrisome to him. “Uh, yeah, okay sure. I only just left so I can turn back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of relief, you thanked Demetri and hung up, walking out of the shed and towards the front of the school to where he would be meeting you. Hawk was supposed to be your ride home, but clearly that was no longer an option.

When Demetri arrived, he didn’t wait for you to get in the car, he immediately got out and walked over to you. “What happened?” He said cautiously, becoming nervous about having to deal with others’ emotions.

He was never particularly great at consolation, being the awkward and blunt person he is-- and he really didn’t want to make things worse for you.

“It’s Eli,” You said, trying to hold back your tears. “I did something really stupid.” Your lip quivered, feeling embarrassed talking about it. You weren’t supposed to tell anyone about you and Hawk, but at this point, you had nothing left to lose.

Demetri looked at you confused. “What do you mean?” To his knowledge, you and Hawk barely conversed, and there should be absolutely no reason whatsoever for you to be crying over him.

The closer you got to explaining it, the harder it got to contain your emotions. Despite knowing Demetri wasn’t very keen on hugs, you ran into him, desperate for the feeling of comfort.

At this point, Demetri’s level of concern was on the rise. Why on earth would you hug him? That’s never happened before. “I just thought you’d be the only one who would understand... if I told someone.” You spoke, words slightly muffled as you were pressed into his chest.

Reluctantly, Demetri accepted your hug and rested his arms around you. “Okay, Y/N, you’re scaring me. What did he do?” He asked, looking down at you.

Gaining the courage to explain yourself, to Demetri’s relief you let go of him and steadied your breathing. “A few weeks ago.. Hawk and I kissed.” You said hesitantly, preparing for the worst.

“What?” Demetri’s face scrunched into the most confused and offended look you’d ever seen him wear. “I know, okay, just wait.” You told him, hoping he would hear you out.

“I thought it was just a stupid mistake, or something?” You began, recalling the uncertainty you felt when it first happened. “But then he said all this stuff about how much he cared about me, and it turns out we actually have something real.”

Aware of the weirdness of what you were saying, you looked to see how Demetri was handling it. He showed a look of understanding, but you could tell he was simply masking the discomfort he was truly feeling. “It was really confusing at first, but then we started secretly dating.. because we knew everyone would flip if they found out.” You continued, the awkwardness worsening with each sentence spoken.

Demetri’s eyebrows rose. “Dating?” You visibly cringed at the reaction, but carried on with your story. “And he even started being nicer to people!” You mentioned, hoping to make the situation seem like you weren’t a complete idiot for allowing it to happen. “Because, I told him I didn’t think I could be with him-- with the way he treats people, you know? And things were actually going well until today--”

You took a moment, preparing the end of your explanation in the hopes you wouldn’t start to cry through it. Demetri looked at you impatiently.

“When Tory found us together and threatened to tell everyone about us if we didn’t break it off, and then Hawk just left me there and said that we should end things because he’s a coward and can’t do what’s right because HE WANTS TO LOOK COOL.” You shouted, running through the sentences fast and furiously. Instead of getting sad like you thought you would, you got angry. Ah yes, another stage of grief.

Demetri looked slightly scared of you at your sudden tantrum, but having heard your story, he did understand what you were feeling-- because in a way, it had happened to him too. This time, it was him who reached out to hug you, and you appreciated him for it. Hugs always seemed to make you feel calm.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know how it feels. He’s stuck right now, but we can’t give up, okay? He’ll come around.” He said honestly, awkwardly patting your back. You laughed a tiny bit, seeing Demetri trying to console, but you were grateful for his presence.

You released each other from the hug, and you wiped any leftover tears off of your face. “Thanks, Demetri.” You said, smiling sweetly. He nodded, placing his hand on your arm in reassurance, and motioned for you to follow to his car.

The ride back to your house was quiet, but your thoughts were busy and loud. That’s how things were for awhile after that day. You kept to yourself again, and though you tried to look alive, you felt like you had retreated back inside the bubble you worked so hard to get out of.

You went to school, you went to karate, you did whatever responsibilities you had to do-- but for the rest of your free time, you spent it alone in your room, wondering what it would take for Hawk to come back to you.

It was unhealthy, really, how you would wait everyday for a sign of acknowledgement from Hawk, and decline any other social invitation because you never got one.

You even wore the necklace, everyday, in hopes that he’d notice and remember how much you meant to him. But it never worked. He never came back.

You got away with the isolation for awhile, but people were starting to notice how you’ve been pulling away. At least you had Demetri to cover for you once and awhile, to help keep up the facade that you were okay.

Because, you weren’t. You wondered if Hawk was, though. He certainly seemed like he was okay, but he couldn’t be. For your own peace of mind, you had to think he couldn’t be. To think that he was doing just fine while you were spending your days miserable, wouldn’t be fair.

He’s stuck right now, but he’ll come around. Demetri’s words echoed in your head, wondering if they were even true. Would he ever really come around? Is he in too deep? The thoughts scared you beyond belief, but as more days passed, the more you believed them.

You eventually forced yourself to stop caring. To stop thinking about it, and to just give it up. You’d spent too long waiting for him, and you were done letting his actions control your happiness. Although there was a part of you that could never really stop caring, you convinced yourself that it was gone.

After a few weeks, you stopped wearing the necklace. When you showed up to school without it on, it was the first time Hawk had noticeably looked at you since the breakup. He always avoided your eye contact, but that day he locked them onto yours as you passed him in the hall. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your neck, and you could see the glum look all over his face.

As much as you wanted to give in to the hope that he missed you, you ignored it. You weren’t going to let any of those thoughts in again-- not when you already worked so hard to let go of them.

Hawk watched you make your way through the corridors, hardly caring who noticed. While you may have had the ability to attempt to move on, he didn’t. It was his fault any of this happened after all, and it was completely up to him whether or not he could fix things between you.

The pressure of knowing he was the only reason for your and his despair was agonizing, and with the necklace no longer around your neck, he realized he was running out of time.

Time is what he thought he had, to turn things around for himself, and you. But his window was closing, and he was panicking.

Not knowing what else to do, Hawk waited a few blocks away from where you trained at Miyagi-Do, knowing he’d catch you on your walk home.

Making your way down the sidewalk after practice, you were completely unsuspecting when Hawk jumped out of his car and jogged towards you.

Things had really come full circle now, hadn’t they? You, walking home on that same sidewalk, pure disgust for Hawk in your veins as he tried to catch up with you.

You stopped short as Hawk stood in front of you, blocking your path. You were nervous and confused at his intrusion, and decided not to bother avoiding him right now.

His stare towards you was intense, and you only glared back, waiting for him to say what he needed to say.

“You stopped wearing the necklace.” He said it so plainly, you couldn’t tell what kind of response he was looking for. It seemed almost like a question in disguise-- why did you stop wearing the necklace, perhaps?

He was looking at you eagerly, though trying to hide the desperation behind the statement.

“Yeah, and?” You laughed at him, matching his tone of carelessness. He looked like he didn’t understand, so you continued. “What’d you expect? That I’d just keep waiting for you?” You said unpleasantly, with a hint of sadness in your own voice.

A shameful look glossed over his features, but you only kept going. “It’s obvious you’re not coming back, Hawk.” You smile at him mockingly, enjoying the feeling of guilt you were giving him.

He tried to stay strong, but every word you spoke was like a hit to his built-up walls, and they were so close to falling down.

“I spent weeks wondering what I’d have to do to get you to come back to me. To choose me.” You said, your voice calm, but the rest of you not. Your body was shaking with anger now, but your eyes were brimming with tears.

“Until,” You sniffled, gaining a tone of indifference, “I finally realized there was nothing for me to do. You just weren’t coming.” You were almost smiling through the pain, and Hawk looked at you in a loss for words.

You appeared so fragile to him, he just wanted to wrap you in his arms and spout apology after apology for what he’d caused. Seeing your eyes squint in attempt to hold back the waterworks, physically pained him.

“So yeah, I stopped wearing the necklace. But you know what?” You stepped forward confidently, despite the single tear that had just fallen down your face. “I think it hurt more wearing it than it did taking it off.” You finished with hardly any emotion in your voice, and Hawk looked mortified seeing you try to act so unaffected.

He had been silent through your whole exchange, because he knew there was nothing he could say now to make things better. He had done too much damage, and he had caused you too much pain. He did exactly what he said he’d never do.

You waited for him to say something, anything-- but as your eyes bore into his strongly, he couldn’t find the courage to speak. The disappointment was immense, and feeling hopeless once again, you pushed past him to go home.

Panicking at your leave, Hawk grabbed onto your arm. “Y/N, Wait, please-” “No!” You cut him off, looking at him coldly. His face was red, and his eyes were stinging now, too. Ignoring the feeling you got when you saw him like that, you ripped your arm from his grasp. “I’ve waited long enough.”

You turned to leave again, and this time, Hawk didn’t follow. There was only one thing Hawk could do now to get you back, and you knew he wasn’t ready for it. There was no use in you hanging around for him anymore, you deserved better. You deserved someone who cared enough that they’d do what it takes to be with you, regardless of social status.

You didn’t even care if he stayed in Cobra Kai, you just wanted him to stand up to his friends and be proud that he was with you. Didn’t he realize that he was one of the strongest Cobras, and that he could get through any of their shit? If his biggest problem was Tory, he hardly had any reason to stay quiet. You knew deep down he could do better.

Hawk hadn’t understood that then, but as he lingered on you walking away, something clicked in his head.

Maybe he really could do better. He wanted to, for you. He was still terrified at the idea of coming clean to the Cobras, but whatever he’d deal with from that couldn’t be any worse than being without you.

He liked the power he had being in Cobra Kai, and he hoped that he could keep it-- but if losing the power meant gaining you, at this point he was totally okay with that risk. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t at least try to negotiate with his friends first.

“Y/N!” It was a new day at school, and you were walking side by side Sam heading to your lunch table when he called your name. You shared a look with Sam, glancing towards him with a bothered look upon your face. “Come here!” Hawk shouted again, apparently not caring that the whole cafeteria had his attention.

A look of dread spread across your face, and you slammed your lunch tray on your friends’ table in defeat before stomping over to where Hawk and his asshole friends sat. Your friends watched from afar, completely clueless as to what Hawk would need you for, and Demetri struggled to pretend he was just as lost as they were.

“What.” You said bluntly, staring him and the rest of his table down. “Yeah, seriously, what are you doing calling her over here?” Mitch asked, looking at you in revulsion, and you rolled your eyes at him.

Hawk looked between you and his friends, struggling to keep his confident manner in tact, and sighed uncomfortably. “I know we don’t like the Miyagi-Dos. And we don’t like the way they run their dojo.” He stated, hoping to hook his friends in by starting negatively towards their rivals.

His friends looked at him in reluctance, wondering where he was going with this-- and you did too. “But I love Y/N.” He said loudly, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and looking around at his friends. He was more nervous to see your reaction than theirs, so he barely looked at you once he said it.

“What?” The words came strongly from not only his friends, but you, too. He had never told you that before, and your heart melted at his declaration. When you spoke, he gathered the courage to look at you, and you’d never seen him so nervous.

“I love you.” He repeated, looking you in the eyes. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and on top of that he was announcing it to the whole school. You glanced over to see Demetri, mouth ajar, observing the interaction like it were a movie.

He meant it, and you could tell. He was waiting on you for a response, feeling more stress than he’d felt in a long time as he studied your bewildered expression.

Before you could say anything, Bert interrupted the moment. “You can’t love a Miyagi-Do. They’re stuck-up pansies who think they’re better than us.” He said, completely convinced that Hawk was out of his mind and needed a wake-up call.

Hawk cringed a little at the feedback, but was surprised when you decided to bite back. “I joined Miyagi-Do because I was tired of people getting bullied. You all choose violence when it isn’t needed, so I just wanted to be prepared.” You defended your intentions, fearlessly.

Tory snorted. “Oh yeah? And how’s that working out for you?” She jabbed, trying to make fun of your self defense skills. Before you could retort, Hawk slammed his hand down on the table and leaned in towards his peers.

“Listen! I’m with you guys, but she’s right. We’ve been reckless.” He said carefully, trying to keep a balance between who’s side he was on. “Sensei told us to fight smart, and we haven’t been.” He locked eyes with Tory, clearly sending her a message.

You watched as Hawk tried to reason with them, admiring his every move. Keeping up his confidence, he set down what was going to happen, and there’d be no arguments against it. “You guys can hate the Miyagi-Dos all you want, but I’m going to be with Y/N, and I’m staying in Cobra Kai.”

Interlacing his hand with yours, he looked at you pridefully before turning back to the outraged looks on his friends’ faces. “From now on, if any one of you touches her, you deal with me. That’s of course if she doesn’t kick your ass first.” He said smugly, and you smiled widely, feeling content at his speech.

Your heart was jumping out of your chest at the gesture he made, and you wanted to smash your lips onto his and tell him how much you loved him back-- but you kept yourself restrained for the sake of the situation.

Most of the Cobras nodded nervously at his announcement, not wanting to challenge Hawk when he was so sure of himself. But Tory wasn’t having it. “You guys can’t seriously be okay with this?” She snapped, death-glaring the entire table.

The group looked like they were trying to decide whether they were more afraid of Hawk, or Tory. You smiled to yourself, knowing that no matter their reaction, you had won this, because you were with him now. It would certainly be a bonus if you gained their acceptance, though.

Mitch looked around in uncertainty about what he was going to say, but stuck up for Hawk. “Come on Tory, I mean, I get it... she’s hot.” He said referring to you, and you laughed a little at the shallow but positive response.

Hawk wasn’t as pleased with it though. “Hey.” He threatened, pointing a finger at Mitch. You giggled slightly at his jealous reaction, but pulled him back from Mitch by the hand you were holding his with. Mitch raised his hands in surrender, and Tory stood from the table, getting close to the both of you.

“You’d better sleep with one eye open, assholes.” She spat, and stormed away from the table. It went better than you would’ve thought, truthfully. Everyone else was loyal to Hawk, and you didn’t really expect anything less from Tory. Again, having Tory be your only threat seemed like small potatoes now that you two were together.

You nodded at the rest of the Cobras in respect, and with that whole thing being over, you tugged him by the hand towards your table of Miyagi-Dos. Hawk groaned, realizing where you were taking him, but did his best to stay civil.

Chris glowered at the both of you, and Sam looked a little disappointed, but she tried to look supportive. “So.... yeah. Sorry.” You said sheepishly, knowing that they had already heard everything.

“I’m glad it finally worked out.” Demetri said through a sad smile. You felt a little bad, knowing that Demetri still needed to work out his relationship with Hawk, and here you were rubbing yours in his face. That would be your next mission, you suppose-- operation get Demetri and Hawk to be friends again.

“Thanks, Dem.” You said appreciatively, and Hawk looked suspiciously between the two of you. “Wait, did you tell him before?” He asked defensively. The whole table looked to you and Demetri curiously, and you crossed your arms sassily.

“Uh, did I call someone to come get me after you left me alone in a shed? Yeah.” You recovered, your facial expression sly as you knew he couldn’t come back from that one. The others looked at him exasperatedly at your response, and his face dropped instantly.

“Oh my god, Y/N I am so sorry about that.” He cowered, immediately dropping it, and you laughed at the remorse he was finally showing. You already knew he was sorry, but you guess it was nice to hear him say it.

He didn’t understand why you were laughing, though. He felt awful. And he also really needed a chance to completely apologize to you in private, now that he had already confessed his true feelings.

Suddenly, he picked you up entirely, arms holding your legs and you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. “Whoah, what is happening?” You laughed, looking at your friends who all looked just as puzzled as you.

Without saying anything else, he took off out of the lunch room carrying you, and made his way to the nearest exit to the outdoors. “Babe, where are we going?” You cackled, amused at the adventure he was taking you on.

Finally outside and alone, he let you down gently in front of him, and took your hands in his lightly. “I’m so sorry. For all of it. I was a complete idiot for letting you go. You knew all along that we could do it, and I was too busy being a pussy to even try. And I’m really sorry for everything that went down today, I hope you aren’t mad, I literally told you I loved you in front of everyone and that must’ve been awkward, I mean you didn’t even get to respond, which, now that I think about it maybe you didn’t want to, or--”

You silenced his rambling with a forceful kiss, grabbing the sides of his face with your hands. “I love you too, Hawk.” You said, pulling away from the kiss quickly, to give him the response he had been looking for.

He smiled big in return, and it turned your insides to mush. “You know, I realized we never got the chance to make things official.” He looked up at you cutely and you smiled back, knowing what was coming.

“So, will you be my girlfriend?” He asked charmingly, his face mere inches from yours. Blushing furiously, you nodded as you touched your forehead to his. “Mhm,” You said in agreement, grinning.

He took a moment, just admiring the look of you so happy, and with his manner still playful, he reminded you of something you had said before. “See? I came back to you.” He said proudly.

You looked at him lovingly, feeling a little emotional at the sentiment. His expression turned serious now, and he parted from you only slightly. “I’m gonna do better for you, Y/N. I promise.” He spoke lowly, and you put your hands on his shoulders, beaming at him in acknowledgement.

You stepped forwards again, getting closer to him. He gave a seductive smirk at your movement, and you subconsciously traced your fingers along his neck, fixated on his face more than anything.

Hawk stared back at you affectionately, his attention flickering down towards your lips. Feeling bold, he placed his hands dangerously low on your waist, and pulled you in roughly for another kiss. You quickly reacted, letting your hands travel to the nape of his neck, your mouth opening slightly-- allowing Hawk the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Your lips stayed connected as Hawk’s hands made their way up your back, his chest pressing closer to yours. As much as you wanted to continue, you were in broad daylight right outside the halls of your school-- and you really didn’t want a detention for too much PDA.

“Mm, Hawk-” You giggled, breaking away from him. “Hm?” He smiled, his hands resting loosely on your waist as he pecked your lips again before letting you free. “If we don’t go back in soon we’ll miss the whole lunch period.” You said, disappointedly.

“Eh, that’s fine with me.” He shrugged, smirking at you as he clutched you closer. You scoffed playfully, hitting him lightly, and gave him one last kiss before escaping his grip.

He pouted at you, and you looked back at him mischievously. He missed your touch already, so he snaked his arm around your waist as you walked back inside to satisfy his need of holding you.

You felt on top of the world with him by your side, now having full confidence in him and his feelings for you. “It’s a good thing I still have the necklace, huh?” You teased, looking back up at him, and Hawk smiled, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

Though your comment may have only been a joke, both of you felt whole at the idea of you wearing the necklace-- and as you walked joyfully through the halls with him, you knew you’d never be taking it off again.

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i just wanna talk about real quick how much i cringe when writing like its actually terrible how much i cringe at myself so idk if i’ll keep doing fics or not HAHAH but y’all can always send requests and i’ll get around to them if i can. hope yall liked this one tho and made it through the whole thing cuz yikes.

#cobra kai #eli moskowitz #eli hawk moskowitz #hawk #jacob bertrand #eli hawk moskowitz cobra kai #eli moskowitz cobra kai #hawk moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai hawk #hawk moskowitz cobra kai #eli moskowitz imagine #hawk imagine #eli hawk moskowitz imagine

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wlntrsldler · 4 years

Text

treacherous (j.p one shot)

PROMPT: based on treacherous by taylor swift. slight enemies to lovers? James Potter and Y/N can’t stand each other until they get to know each other.

A/N: does not follow the timeline at all. the events are not accurate but let’s pretend for the sake of the fic lol.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, a bit of wolfstar, and some sexual tension (brief)

WC: 5.6K+ (this is my longest fic yet omg)

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

treacherous (j.p one shot)

“You’re so goddamn reckless.” James hissed, slamming his fists down on the kitchen table. “You need to wait for my command. This wasn’t a solo mission, Y/N/N. We work as a fucking team around here.”

“If I waited for your command, Prongs,” you replied, rising from your seat. You acknowledged his nickname with a bitter taste in your mouth. You knew you had to listen to James because everyone listens to James but you knew your plan would work. “We wouldn’t have gotten the mission done.”

“You went rogue!”

“But we got it done, right?” you seethed, eye drilling holes in Prongs’ skull. You felt Sirius offer a comforting hand, placing his on top of yours. Your eyes flickered to look at your best friend, features visibly softening. You sighed, slowly feeling yourself come down from your anger. “That’s the important thing, Prongs. I’m done talking about this.”

“Yeah we got it finished but at what cost?” James pushed, not backing down from his dominant exterior. “You could’ve died, Y/N. We don’t trade lives around here.”

“You don’t have to act like you care about my well-being, Potter,” you spat, starting to limp away from the briefing. You sustained some minor injuries because of your decision but you knew you’d do it again if it came down to it. “We all know you just don’t want another person’s blood on your hands.”

It was a low blow. Everyone in the house knew that James was feeling guiltier and guiltier everyday because of the events that happened over the past few months. The McKinnons, the Prewetts, his fight with some Order members— all of it was finally taking a toll on James. Maybe it always did take a toll on him and he just never showed that it did. Nobody really knew what the last straw was but now it was obvious— James Potter was tired, worn out, almost defeated in nature.

Yeah, what you said was a low blow.

James gulped, demeanor changing after your words rattled the room. Remus looked at James apologetically, not really knowing what to say. He didn’t expect that from you, nobody did. Lily cleared her throat, fixing the scattered parchment on her side of the table. Sirius stood up and patted James on the back, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze.

“Right, uhm..” he started, blinking back the effect of your words. “We can revisit this some other time. Great job today.”

James left the room without another word, your voice taunting him as he walked further and further away from the team. Is that what you really think of him? A leader, if that, who only cared about not being the person responsible for another death? Did you think that he didn’t care about you? That you were just a number to him?

Obviously you didn’t. You knew James Potter was a good man, deep down. You could see it in the way he put everyone’s needs before his. He wakes up every morning and gets everything done so the rest of you wouldn’t be burdened with such mundane things. James Potter cooked meals, cleaned the house you all shared, and bought groceries on the weekends because he thinks that you all fighting with him is something he can never repay you for. James Potter thinks that your trust as a team— as a family— is the most important thing in the universe and he’s so thankful that he has you all by his side, even if the whole world disagrees with your cause. James Potter is a good man.

You had a loud mouth. You found yourself, more times than you’d like to admit, scolding yourself after you let your mouth run amuck. This was one of those times. You let your anger get the best of you. The only reason why you even got angry with James in the first place was his lack of trust in you. Did he not think you could complete the task successfully?

“Y/N?” A voice from outside of your room called. You tried to get up from your bed, cursing as the pain shot through your right leg. “Hey, you in there?”

“Yeah,” you yelled out, realizing that it would be better for them to let themselves in rather than you try to open it for them. “Come in.”

Sirius entered, chuckling at your pained expression as you sat up in your bed. You glared at him, propping your injured leg on top of a pillow. “You good there, sweetheart?”

“Just dandy.”

He sat next to you, careful not to touch your leg. He smiled at you, sadly, and you knew what was coming next. A lecture as to why you should apologize to James or at the very least take his point of view under consideration. This was almost normal, and it was definitely expected. You and Sirius grew close, attached to the hip at times, and he was the one who would typically talk some sense into you. You knew that he and James were the blueprint of what an everlasting friendship should look like so you listened to him. Rarely were you ever the first one to apologize, though, but you knew this time was going to be one of those times.

“What you said to James..” he trailed off, eyebrows furrowing in worry. “I think he kinda took it to heart, Y/N.”

“I know,” you sighed, acknowledging your mistake. “I don’t know why I even said that.”

“You don’t like to use your brain when you’re angry.” Sirius responds, laughing slightly. You push his shoulder playfully. “Just apologize to him, Y/N. You know he means well.”

“I know he does.”

“So I’ll leave you to it then,” he announced, getting up to leave your room. “He’s in his room, locked himself in there since the meeting.”

Ouch. You felt the guilt start to eat you up. Sirius shot you a warm smile before shutting the door behind him. Groaning, you lifted yourself up, trying to ignore the swelling in your leg. Was it the smartest idea to walk on an injured leg? No, but you were never one to have smart ideas anyway and today’s events made that clear.

You started to make your way down to James’ room but stopped when you saw him exiting the bathroom. You began to walk towards him, gasping in pain when your foot landed the wrong way.

“Goddamnit, James!” you shuffled towards him, gaining some speed. He stopped to see who was calling him. His face paled when he realized it was you and continued to walk towards his room. “Will you wait for me?”

James stopped in his tracks, feeling bad that you were chasing him with a bad leg. He waited patiently as you limped towards him, an annoyed look on his face. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You blinked, not expecting the harsh tone he was using. No matter how many times you and James argued and were at each other’s throats, his harsh tone always surprised you. He raised his voice, yeah, sure, but this— this was different. You tried to ignore it, knowing that you probably deserved this. “I just wanted to say sorry for what I said earlier.”

He froze up, looking down at his feet. He glanced over at your leg, red with bruises littered over your skin. God you were lucky you didn’t die, he thought. James shrugged, “I don’t care, Y/N. Is that all?”

“Well, blimey,” you snorted, already putting up your harsh exterior, “I was trying to be nice. Get that stick out your ass.”

“Are you done?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

That was it.

James walked away and entered his room before you even moved. You were left to crawl your way back to your room, quite literally. Half way through, the pain in your leg traveled to your hip and you gave up on walking. Remus found you dragging your body across the carpet and took it upon himself to carry you back to your bedroom. You thanked him, half-heartedly, not being able to forget James’ hurt expression from your sorry-excuse of an apology.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were all supposed to win the fight. You were supposed to reconcile and have a drink at the house, continuing to dance the night away. You weren’t supposed to lose.

Half of the people you knew were gone. Poof. Like they never existed.

You, Lily, and James stayed in the Potters’ home, resting after a long day of fighting. Dumbledore left to check on the Order, or what was left of them. Molly and Arthur joined him. Peter was— Merlin knows where. Sirius left to check on Remus. The world seemed so quiet. Empty.

“It’s not the end,” Lily tried to say, looking between you and James. She paced the floor, unsure if she even believed her own words.

There hasn’t been much spoken between the ones who survived. You started to wonder if you were one of the lucky one who survived or if this fate was more unlucky given the circumstances. You lost people you called your family. You all did.

This was a battle none of you expected. It was a surprise attack on the Order during a time when you all had your guards down. One minute, you were all in the backyard, excited as the Weasley’s announced another addition to their already large family. People were dancing, cheering, drinking, and for a moment it seemed normal.

And then they came. They slaughtered everyone that they could. You were lucky enough to get out before it got too crazy. You ushered the young kids into the room, casting protective charms as you held onto Percy Weasley with your other hand. You watched people fall. You heard people scream in terror as they were being tortured. You shielded the kids from looking out the window, afraid that if they were to see something so traumatizing, they would never recover. You were sure it would take years before you would.

“I’m gonna help Euphemia out,” Lily announced, getting up from her seat. You knew there wasn’t much that Euphemia needed help with, Lily just felt restless and she wanted to do something that she could control.

James nodded silently, staring at his shaking hands. There have only been a handful of moments where you’ve seen James Potter— confident, self-assured, James Potter— doubt himself or be nervous.

The first time was when he put on the Sorting Hat in your first year and he pleaded the tattered hat to place him in Gryffindor, though the hat knew better than to place him anywhere else. Then, second year came around and you four found out that Remus was a werewolf. You accidentally overheard their conversation, and it confirmed the suspicions you’ve had for a year. The third time was in fifth year when Sirius made the stupidest mistake of his life and told Snape about the Whomping Willow. He was afraid he’d lose his second family because of it, and he knew that Remus’ anger was justified. And the last time, before today, that you’ve ever seen James Potter nervous was in seventh year. It was the day after his date with Lily— a date that took him years to convince her to go on�� and he realized that they were not compatible at all. Poor bloke was afraid to hurt Lily’s feelings and when he finally told her, she laughed and said, “I know, Potter. I’m glad you see it now.”

Now, you were alone with a terrified James Potter and you didn’t know what to do. You stared at him from across the room, unsure of your next step. You cleared your throat, “Do you need me to do anything, Potter?”

“Huh?” he looked up, eyes weary and mind jumbled. He registered your question and he shook his head, “No, I’m alright. Um, are you going to be staying here tonight?”

You gulped, “Yeah, if that’s alright. I-I don’t really have a place to stay, but if you want me to leave I’m sure I can stay with Remus and Sirius.”

“No, no, it’s perfectly fine,” James replied, quickly, getting up from his seat, “I’m sure mum and dad won’t mind. Please, make yourself at home.”

“I appreciate that,” you sent him a tight-lipped smile and rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes, ignoring the pain that shot up your leg with every move.

“I’m gonna help mum.”

“Okay.”

He left you in the room, rushing to help his mother, but you had a feeling it was to save the both of you from the awkwardness of the situation. Sighing, you began to make your way to your room upstairs. You were half way out the room when suddenly, the room was filled with your friends. Some of the remaining members of the Order popped in, stopping you from completing your plans.

“Well, welcome back everyone,” you remarked, sitting on the couch. “Nice to see you.”

James, Lily, and Euphemia all entered once they heard the commotion. James stayed by the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched Dumbledore take center. Lily and Euphemia sat beside you, on opposite sides. Euphemia gave your leg a light squeeze and a kiss on your temple.

“As you all know, today’s attack caused mass casualty,” your old professor started, eyes flickering to empty spots in the room that the old members used to occupy. “To prevent such things, we will assign teams to designated areas. We can no longer put all our eggs in one basket. We need to prepare.”

Dumbledore continued, “Euphemia, you and Fleamont stay with Mad-Eye. He needs your expertise. Remus and Sirius, your flat is near the Black family home, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Sirius replied, “Wanted to be close, just in case.”

Regulus. Sirius wanted to be close to look after Regulus.

The old wizard nodded, “Very well. You two stay there and make note of any movement. We suspect they’re having meetings there. Lily, Dorcas, and Peter, you three will be taking care of Hogwarts students who live in the muggle world. They’re in Hogwarts for sanctuary, but since Minerva and myself are going to be preoccupied, we need you to make sure they’re safe.”

“What a reunion, aye gang?” Dorcas chuckled, though her laugh was empty. Lily snorted, shoving her lightly as a move of endearment.

“James and Y/N, we need you two here. This will be our headquarters.”

Sirius scoffed, “Professor, are you sure you’d want to pair Prongs and Y/N/N? We’ve already lost a lot of Order members and I’m afraid that if you pair them, we’ll lose one more. One of them will end up killing the other.”

“Shut it, Pads,” you glared, scrunching your nose, “I’m sure Potter and I can be civil.”

“I can be,” James added, side-eyeing you.

“What does that mean?” you questioned, squinting your eyes at the boy by the door. You began to get up but Euphemia stopped you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“James,” she said, warningly.

“Alright,” Dumbledore clapped his hands, calling the attention back to him, “I expect you all to be at your posts by tonight. Stay safe, everyone. Our numbers are dwindling by the hour.”

By 11PM, the house was empty. It was only you and James left. You locked yourself in the comfort of your room, staring wordlessly at the ceiling. The house was unusually quiet. There was no loud laughter coming from the living room— four boys who had to grow up too fast. You sighed, swinging your legs down the side of your bed, wincing as you forgot about your injuries.

“Fuck me,” you muttered, closing your eyes for a moment until the pain subsided. Once it became bearable, you slipped on your house shoes and made your way down the stairs. You tried to tiptoe down the stairs, not wanting to wake James and go through another awkward encounter. However, once you got to the entrance of the kitchen, you realized your efforts made no sense as James leaned against the cold counter, a cup of tea in hand, and his glasses fogged by the steam from his drink.

His eyes flickered over to where you stood, suddenly making you feel self-conscious. You were wearing nothing but pajama shorts and a large t-shirt that you were sure once belonged to Sirius. James raised his cup a bit as a sign of acknowledgement.

You smiled awkwardly and poured yourself a glass of water, “What are you doing up?”

“I reckon for the same reason you are,” he replied, taking a sip from his tea. James snickered, “Nice shirt.”

“It’s Padfoot’s,” you chuckled, “Don’t tell him I still have it.”

“Actually,” James started, placing his drink down. He faced you, “It’s mine. I let him borrow it and I asked for it a few times now. He keeps telling me he’ll give it to me later but I had a feeling he was stalling because he lost it. Mystery solved.”

You blushed, “Sorry, did you want it back?”

“No, it’s alright. Looks good on you,” he coughed, ducking his head to hide the slight blush on his cheeks, “Can’t sleep?”

“No.”

James nodded, “Yeah, me either. You can sit with me for a bit, if you want.”

You pondered it for a moment until you finally decided that a conversation with James Potter was better than staring at an empty ceiling for the rest of the night. You limped to the seat in front of him, clutching your glass of water like a lifeline.

“Are you still hurt?” James questioned, getting up to help you to your seat. He held your arm as you sat on the chair. Once you were situated, he knelt beside you, inspecting your leg, “You are still hurt. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“It’s not a big deal,” you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck in embarrassment. “We all had bigger things to worry about.”

“Why didn't you just cast a spell on it?”

“I’m not the best healer around,” you admitted, looking down at him.

If it was any other circumstance, you would not have admitted your shortcomings to anyone— especially not James Potter. But perhaps it was the toll that the war had put upon you or the tiredness in your system… Or perhaps it was the way he was staring at you from his position on the floor, eyes wide with worry with the candlelight reflecting off his glasses and the look of absolute beauty on his face, that made you become so brutally honest.

“And why didn’t you ask one of us to help you?”

You scoffed, “Well, none of you are licensed healers, either. I figured I’d just live with it until it healed the muggle way.”

“Always so prideful, you are,” he chuckled, pulling out his wand. He muttered a simple incantation and then studied your once injured limb. “There. Better?”

You looked down at it, pleasantly surprised that it was indeed better. You nodded, a skeptical look on your face. James dusted off his pajama pants and made his way over to the seat he occupied before. You tilted your head, “Where did you learn that?”

“I learned for Remus,” James said, “After his transformations, sometimes he would still be in pain from turning so I learned a few things to help him. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn’t but Remus always says that just the thought that I wanted to help him helped with his recovery. Load of rubbish, I say but who am I to decide that, right?”

“Wow.”

James laughed at your reaction, drinking from his tea once more. A playful smile appeared on his lips, “I do have a heart, you know. I’m sure everyone else can see that but you.”

You rolled your eyes, “I know you have a heart, Potter. That’s not why I can’t stand you.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“Well, Godric, where do I start?” you hummed, a laugh escaping your throat. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, smirking at your answer. You bit your lip, “Let’s see… you’re arrogant, cocky, obnoxiously loud. You act like you know everything, all the time.”

His eyebrows shot up. James’ tongue poked out to dampen his cracked lips, “Don’t hold back, I guess.”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, “Your turn. Why do you hate me?”

“Because you hate me.”

“Come off it,” you stared at him, shaking your head. “Why do you really hate me?”

“Seriously, that’s it. I only act like I don’t like you because you don’t like me. I don’t actually hate you, you know.”

You were in shock. Your voice came out as a whisper, “Really?”

“Really yeah,” he shrugged, as if his confession was nothing, “You love Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, and all our friends like they’re family to you. I can tell you’re a genuinely good person with how you treat the most important people in my life. I can’t hate a good person.”

You pursed your lips, “Well, I only dislike you because you act like I’m not a good witch.”

“What?”

“Come on, James,” you gestured with your hands. “You act like I’m a bloody awful witch and an even worse person. Always have since we were in Hogwarts. I just always assumed you thought I wasn’t good enough.”

James was baffled, “Are you being serious right now?”

“I mean, yeah,” you began to explain, thinking back to the many moments in the past where he made you feel that way. “I remember when we first all found out about Remus. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone but you still followed me for two months to make sure I didn’t say anything because you didn’t trust me. Or whenever Sirius would tell you to ask me for help on a prank that required some advanced charms, you would refuse to let me participate like I couldn’t possibly be any help to you. Or more recently, when we had that task to do and you blew up on me for not following the intended plan. You don’t think I’m capable.”

“Y/N, I never thought I made you feel that way,” James frowned. “I was just really scared for Remus. Even as a second year, I knew that he was going to be my best friend for life and I just wanted to protect him. I didn’t let Sirius drag you into our pranks because I knew you were aiming for a spotless record at Hogwarts. I didn’t wanna get you in trouble because honestly, a prank that didn’t end with at least one of us in detention was a failed prank.”

“Oh,” you squeaked, “I didn’t know that was where your mind was.”

“Yeah,” James continued, “A-and as for the last task, I just didn’t want you hurt. We’ve lost enough people already. I’d hate to lose you, too.”

“Careful, Prongs,” you teased, swirling the water around in your glass, “You’re gonna make me think you actually like me.”

“I do, yeah,” he admitted, “I’m quite fond of you.”

The both of you stayed silent after those words left his lips. It wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable. It was the first time you two had a proper conversation and you learned things about each other that you never imagined. James continued to sip on his tea and you stared at each other from across the counter. You smiled at him, admiring the redness of his cheeks.

“Well,” you finally said, standing up. You placed the empty glass in the sink and made your way to the stairs, “I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

James smiled, showing off his perfect teeth, “Goodnight, Y/N/N.”

“Goodnight, Prongs,” you returned his smile, turning your back on him. Before you reached the first step, you turned back around, “James?”

“Mhm?”

“I think I can grow quite fond of you too.”

James’ eyes flickered from his tea to your face, his cheeks completely flushed pink by now. He bit the corner of his bottom lip, trying to suppress his smile. He chuckled, shaking his head, making his curls bounce around. You willed yourself to remember that image because it was the first time that you truly saw James Potter for who he was.

Over the next few weeks, you and James began to grow closer. Your late night conversations almost became mandatory. He began to leave a cup of tea for you across from him where you sat the first night. It took him precisely three nights to finally make your cup the way you liked it without being told. He started to light the fireplace in the living room after seeing goosebumps rise on your skin a week and a half after the first night. Then by the third week of your traditions, he began to walk you up to your bedroom door to wish you a goodnight there.

Sirius and Remus didn’t come to check in until a month later. Sirius, as always, made himself feel at home by raiding the kitchen and eating the food that you and James made earlier. Remus laughed from the living room, muttering about how Sirius acts like he doesn’t feed him.

Sirius sat beside James, peering over the pile of parchment on the side of his desk. He nudged his best friend’s shoulder, “Surprised you and Y/N haven’t killed each other yet.”

James blushed, “She’s not so bad, Pads.”

“Oh, I know that,” he hummed, taking a bite out of the biscuit in his hand, “Glad you know it now, too.”

“I never thought she was bad,” James frowned, placing his quill down to properly talk to Sirius, “Why does everyone think that I do?”

“Prongsie, darling, you would always shut up whenever she’d walk in. You’d avoid her like the plague.”

“I just knew she didn’t like me, that’s all. Figured that if I shut up, she’ll see that I’m not so bad.”

“Huh… Why did you want her to like you so bad anyway?” Sirius asked, sitting on the desk now, disregarding the work that James had done. He waited patiently for James to answer, but the answer never came. Instead, James’ cheeks flushed pink and the boy tried to hide his flustered expression by pretending to massage his temples. Sirius’ eyes widened and he jumped off the desk with excitement plastered over his face, “You fancy her! Merlin, how did I not see it before?! You fancy Y/N/N!”

“Will you—” James shushed Sirius, pulling him down by the fabric of his shirt. He was starting to draw attention to himself. James saw Remus stare at the two boys, puzzled as to why Sirius was running around like a dog. James wouldn’t be surprised if he turned into Padfoot just to swing his tail around. “Will you calm down?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, his lips still twisted in a large grin, “You fancy Y/N/N.”

“Yeah, I do,” James was embarrassed now. He didn’t expect to come clean to Sirius like this— not in the middle of a war. “I’ve always thought she was gorgeous, you know, even back in Hogwarts! I just never did anything about it because she hated me. I mean, really, genuinely, hated me. Then we got to know each other over this time and— I don’t know, Pads. She’s great.”

Sirius smiled so hard, James thought his lips would tear apart, “Yeah, she bloody is. Are you gonna tell her?”

His eyes widened at his best friend’s words as he frantically shook his head, “Merlin, no! Of course not! We’re in the middle of a war, Pads, and I’m sure she barely tolerates me. I doubt she’ll like me.”

Before Sirius could reply, you appeared behind the two boys, an eyebrow raised, “What are we talking about gentlemen?”

“Nothing!” James exclaimed, rubbing the back of his neck in fear, “Sirius was just saying how he needed to get home. Right now.”

“Is this how you talk to your best friend that you haven’t seen in a month, Prongs?”

Remus entered as well, laughing as he spoke, “Come on, Sirius. We do have to head home now. Nice to see you both.”

“Always a pleasure, Moony,” you smiled, hugging them both before they apparated out of the house. You poked James’ cheek, “So what were you really talking about?”

“Guy stuff,” he lied, returning his focus back to the parchment that Sirius messed up.

“Guy stuff?” you snorted, grabbing his jaw and turning his head to look at you. James visibly gulped, all the color draining from his face. You cocked your head, not letting go of his face, “We’re lying to each other now, Potter? Shame.”

“‘M not lying,” he said, voice shaky. You were so close to him. He could smell the strawberry chapstick you dabbed on your lips. Godric, your lips looked so kissable.

“Yes you are,” you tutted, your palm now cupping his jaw. You didn’t even realize how intimate this move was, too busy looking into his eyes to notice your movements, “I can tell.”

“How?”

“You can’t look me in the eye,” you stated, eyes flickering to the different features on his face. You never noticed the small freckle on the bridge of his nose or the small, fading scar on the left side of his lips. “Whenever a good man is lying, he can never look at someone in the eye. So tell me, James, what were you guys talking about?”

James still refused to look at you in the eye. He couldn’t bring himself to because he knew you were right. The minute his eyes met yours, he would crack like an egg. Instead, he focused it on your parted lips, feeling your breath tickle the tip of his nose as you spoke. He mumbled, “I can’t tell you that.”

You didn’t know what came over you but when you spoke again, your voice came out as a sultry tone— breathy and slowly dragging your words, “Please.”

James’ eyes immediately jumped to look at yours once he heard the tone of your voice. He’d never heard you use that tone before and he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him weak in the knees. And for the sixth time in your life, you saw the nervous James Potter again. In a moment of weakness, he spoke, “You. We were talking about you.”

“Me?” you asked, shocked by his revelation. Your hand that was once cupping his face was now hanging off his shoulder. You twirled a curl on the nape of his neck around your index finger, slightly tugging it. It took all of James’ willpower not to groan at the pressure. “What could you have possibly been saying about me?”

“How utterly insufferable you are,” James nudged his nose with yours, tilting his head the slightest bit. His tongue poked out of his lips, licking them in both nervousness and excitement.

“I’m only insufferable because you make me this way,” you tilted your head the opposite direction. Your lips were moving towards each other with every breath you took.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You let your lips ghost over his, before pulling away. You opened your eyes to taunt him, a mischievous smirk on your face. You pulled away from him, untangling his hair from your finger.

“See, you’re proving my point. You’re insufferable,” James said.

And with that, he pulled you by your waist, a surprised squeal left your mouth. He placed you on his lap before he kissed you. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His lips melted with yours, tongues shying away from each other until he finally had the courage to caress yours with his. James squeezed your hips, pushing you down his lap. A soft moan escaped your throat and that brought James back to reality.

Before things could escalate, he pulled away— lips bruised and completely out of breath. You smiled at him, biting your bottom lip. He returned the favor, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t want to continue without telling you,” James confessed, “I like you. A lot, actually. I don’t want you to think this means nothing to me because it does. I-I hope it means something to you, too. If it doesn’t, let me know because I don’t want to do this if I’m just setting myself up for failure here.”

Your features softened at his words. You cupped his face in your hands, once again, and kissed the tip of his nose, then each cheek, then his forehead, and finally, his lips. It was an innocent one, less steamy and passionate than the first, but lovely regardless. You intertwined your fingers with his, “This means something to me, too, Potter. You’re not the only one who feels that way.”

“Really?” he asked, now grinning widely. He connected his forehead with yours, chuckling, “Who would’ve thought we’d get here?”

“Not me,” you giggled, “However, don’t think I won’t bicker with you now that I know you’re an incredible kisser.”

“I didn’t expect you to go easy on me,” James laughed, wrapping his arms around you. “But now, I can just kiss you to shut you up.”

You pretended to think about it for a moment with a fond smile, “Hmm.. I suppose that’ll work.”

James pulled you closer to his body, looking up at you as you sat on his lap. He murmured into the skin of your neck, “See? Insufferable.”

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