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presentmacandcheese · 1 month ago

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bring you some peace

jason todd x gn reader

summary: you discover your boyfriend jason is the Red Hood, to his surprise and concern you're not upset in the slightest

or 5k on loving and appreciating your hardworking vigilante boyfriend

a/n: back at it again! This isn't exactly a sequel to softer than, but it's not not a sequel either. I picture it being the same reader, but this piece can absolutely still be read standalone! That said, go forth and please enjoy my second ever DC fic

also on my ao3!

A sigh pushed its way from his diaphragm as the mattress caught Jason’s fall. He ran a hand over his face and into his hair, taking another deep breath, thoughts of your relationship began to fill his mind.

Things with you had been going well lately, too well, the anxiety in his brain was certain.

You were suspiciously patient and understanding, especially when he bailed last minute on plans. Sure, you’d meet him with a pout, but it’d disappear as quickly as it’d come and be replaced with a smile that must have been a trick of the light as it seemed... empathetic? Where was the upset? Shouldn’t you be fighting about him “not prioritizing you” enough? It’s what happened the last time he had a romantic partner.

His partner had felt Jason wasn’t willing to put them over his work, which... He made what time he could for them, but there were lives at stake. He couldn’t be with them every second of every day like they attempted to demand, and they weren’t willing to compromise when the truth of his work remained hidden.

His chest ached at the thought of losing you, knowing it would hurt significantly more than his last relationship. They were nice, mostly. But you. You meant more to him. You meant... everything. Something felt different lately, off in enough way that he felt it making home in his bones.

Maybe he needed to come clean, maybe that was the honesty this relationship required. His heart raced as the thought settled, stomach churning. Would you still want him once you knew? Was he risking his safety, his family’s safety, your safety in vain?

Jason mulled it over, knowing the other shoe may drop with this decision, but pleading with the universe that just this once it wouldn’t have to. Maybe he’d be allowed to have and keep something good.

You knew your boyfriend was the Red Hood.

Jason, bless his heart, had certainly been trying to keep it away from you. But the more time you spent around him, the more little details you were able to put together.

At first, the nights he was unable to spend time together made sense. He told you he worked graveyard shift most nights and his behavior and absences backed that up.

Until he started canceling at confusing moments with vague excuses. The timing of his walk outs beginning to raise a flag in your mind.

“Work thing, gotta go.” When his phone buzzed as your heads had just hit the pillows.

“My brother needs me.” Two minutes into the TV show you watched together weekly.

“I have a thing to do.” When you were about to be that thing.

Jason went out of his way to make it up to you, finding alternate times to see and spend time with you, leaving you far more curious than upset.

The curiosity increased when you noticed the influx of injuries he’d have after a night of cancelled plans. The dots didn’t begin to consciously connect until Jason had walked out on your movie night early, a murmured “work errand, sorry.” Leaving his lips as he parted.

You were more concerned than anything, he’d been wanting to watch Pride & Prejudice with you for weeks after you’d read the book together; a re-read for him and a first for you, only to leave half an hour in?

Your thoughts roamed as you snuggled into the hoodie, he’d purchased solely for you to steal, burrowing into the blankets on your couch and settling in for the new plan of a night to yourself. You wondered what errand could be so important to need urgent tending to. Maybe you’d ask Jason later, maybe you’d finally get your curiosities quenched.

You’d just gotten comfortable, pulling out a project you’d been working on for fun and throwing the news on in the background when a story caught your attention.

“Red Hood takes mustard gun to the face. Fresh off an Arkham Asylum breakout this evening, Condiment King stood off against Crime Alley’s very own Red Hood. It seems to have been Condiment King’s lucky day as he managed a hit on the rehabilitated crime lord, launching mustard directly at the so called “eyes” of his helmet. That’s bound to leave one hot dog of a bruise if you ask me.”

You rolled your eyes as you processed the pun, it felt in poor taste given how much worse the situation could have been, especially if Red Hood had been without his helmet. The idea made you frown. You’d found yourself with a soft spot towards the vigilantes of Gotham for years, but along the way Red Hood had become your favorite.

You admired what he stood for, the protection he offered women and children, the way he was willing to offer it no matter the cost. The other vigilantes seemed more black and white, you respected that Red Hood appeared to often understand the world was gray.

You zoned back into the TV, focusing again on the reporter’s words.

“Witnesses reported Nightwing ketching up to the scene shortly after, promptly taking down Condiment King and assuring he won’t be able to a salt anyone again anytime soon.”

You groaned, turning channels so you wouldn’t have to listen anymore to the attempts at making crime more lighthearted.

The night passed rather calmly for you, but the same could not be said of the streets. Checking social media and news sites revealed the Arkham breakout was much larger than merely Condiment King.

And as you realized multiple heavy hitters were loose, you sent out a quiet prayer to whoever was listening that your city and its protectors would remain safe.

Jason needed to see you.

Adrenaline left his body wired, hands trembling and breaths labored. The night had been harsh to them all. Rogues left and right hellbent on freedom and destruction. Every Bat had taken far more hits than preferred throughout the night, but they prevailed without serious injury. Somehow luck was on their side with a swift recapture.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t frazzled.

Going from a peaceful night in; snuggling his sweetheart, to getting two black eyes from fuckin’ Condiment King of all people was bound to leave a man off-kilter. Especially when the ante of it all was only upped from there. A night’s full of adrenaline catching up to him as the morning latened.

Exhaustion ran bone deep, his knocks on your door muddled as if his blood had turned to molasses. The rush that got him through being patched up and taking a shower drained from his body and left Jason half asleep on your doorstep.

He leaned against the frame, eyes blinking slowly as he heard the lock click before the door opened.

“Baby?” There it was, confused voice still dripping gentle honey as your eyes met his.

He was fading fast, Jason knew he’d be unconscious in minutes, but that was okay. He had proof that you were safe, and that was all he needed.

You took Jason’s arm, guiding him inside and towards your bed. You’d seen him tired plenty of times, but never quite like this. This was exhaustion. His movements slow like you were trudging through quicksand, every step heavy as though the second you stopped moving, he’d begin to sink.

It was worrisome. Clearly, his job was burning him out or something worse. You’d noticed the redness under his eyes, the way they were swelling in what would surely become two black eyes. What happened to him last night?

Oh god.

As you moved the blankets on your bed to open a space for him, your mind was stuck on an awful thought. What if he’d been caught in the Arkham attacks?

Pushing Jason into place on your mattress was more than easy, once the opening was created a soft wind could’ve blown him down. He collapsed into the plushness, face immediately buried in your pillow and body going lax. It would’ve made you chuckle if you weren’t so worried.

You removed his shoes before covering him with the blankets, tucking the sides in to secure him. Sitting beside him on the bed’s edge, you lifted a hand to run through his hair, delicately untangling any small knots and lightly scratching his scalp.

A shaky breath left your lips, watery eyes locked on where Jason’s chest rose and fell. You could see he’d had a night, but he’d survived that night. He was here. he was safe. You just needed to get your anxiety to catch up with reality.

You watched him sleep for half an hour before your body regulated, your heartrate lowering and allowing your mind to clear now that the fear was dissipating.

Your fingers finally left his hair, trailing down to lightly caress over the side of his face that’d emerged from the pillow. Hovering over the swelling under his eye your brain whispered what happened, Jay?

Did someone hit you? Why? How?

A nugget of information from the previous night floated to the foreground. There was someone you knew had gotten hit in the eyes last night.

Red Hood.

Your hand slowly retreated, lowering to a stilted rest on his shoulder. It. It was absurd, wasn’t it?

Except.

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand nearest you, opening the internet and searching ‘Red Hood.’ Your hand left Jason’s body as you frantically searched at length, looking for evidence. The builds were damn near the same, Red Hood seemed only the slightest bulkier, your guess was an armor-padded suit. Articles highlighting injuries he’d received in the recent past aligned with nights he’d rushed away from you.

And the most damning. A picture someone had managed to get of him without his helmet.

He still wore a mask, but even in a far and grainy picture you’d recognize the love of your life’s face anywhere.

Jason Todd was the Red Hood.

You locked your phone, not wanting to stare at the image anymore and turned your gaze to Jason. You expected fear to roll in, knowledge fresh of some of the brutality he’d committed, but the longer you looked at Jason the more your shock calmed.

He was a hero. A statement you figured he’d argue, but that’s how you’d felt about Red Hood for ages. Sure, his methods were unorthodox especially when he first debuted in Gotham, but he’d been trying to better the city every step of his way. He stood up for the underdogs, for Park Row and everyone in it that were constantly overlooked.

You knew firsthand how much it needed that. Park Row, Crime Alley had been your home for a spell of time. The first ten years of your life had been spent struggling there. At your youngest and most vulnerable, you learned that life wasn’t always fair. Life wouldn’t always give people what they deserved, not when the cards were stacked against them.

Park Row needed help, it needed a protector. It needed someone who would stand up and fight for and in it, that never seemed up Batman’s alley.

But Red Hood? Red Hood was doing what needed to be done. Jason was doing what needed to be done.

Heavens, he must be so tired, so unappreciated. Even if his methods seem to have calmed since the start, reports on him still labeled him as more violent than the rest of the Bats, treated him as more of a threat and a borderline villain at times. Like he was a ticking time-bomb.

A frown twisted your mouth, disappointment setting in that others couldn’t see how wonderful your vigilante was. The shift to determination was easy, you’d just have to show him how appreciated he was.

Jason woke up in darkness, disorienting him until his eyes adjusted to the surroundings. The weight of the comforter on him as familiar as the plushness of the pillow, your scent wrapped around him more fully than the blankets.

He turned his head to the walls, pictures and posters of the things you love adorning them. A soft smile graced his lips, he was in your room, he was okay, he was safe. His eyes trailed along to the window, wanting to peek out and gauge the time of day. He was met with confusion as he saw a blanket pinned to the wall over it, blocking out most all the light.

Jason lingered on the detail only a moment more before he sat up. He was in your room, where were you? He stretched as he stood, making his way out of the dark room and further into your apartment. The soft tones of you singing led him easily to you in the kitchen.

“Good evening, sleepyhead.” You greeted over your shoulder, hands in the sink as you washed dishes, your tone was playful, but there was a glint in your eye he couldn’t quite place.

“It’s evening?” His eyes flitted to the clock on the microwave, just after 6 pm. “Wasn’t sure with the makeshift blackout curtain.” He raised a brow.

You looked away, but Jason came closer, spotting the blush on your cheeks.

“I just wanted to make sure you were able to rest properly; my curtains didn’t make it dark enough.”

The words came out sweet and simple. An easy care in them that had Jason’s cheeks reddening too. Your thoughtfulness never failed to make him flustered, knocking him giddy and disbelieving of what he’d done to deserve you.

“Dinner will be done soon, too.” Jason recognized an out when he saw one, you were giving him the room not to reply directly to being taken care of, he appreciated it.

He stepped closer, arms wrapping around your waist and leaning his head onto your shoulder.

“Thank you.” It was weighted with everything he could be grateful for. When you let him in this morning and put him to bed, when you chose to care for him instead of making him feel like shit for leaving you, you cooking for him now and continuing to be kind.

“Anything for you.” As you settled back into him, leaning your weight on him, Jason had no idea how deep that promise would run.

It’d been a month since you’d discovered Jason’s secret. A month of showing him extra kindness, understanding, and appreciation. You were content to wait to talk about his vigilantism with him until he was comfortable sharing with you. You were letting your actions speak louder than your words anyhow.

Making sure to give him praise on his character whenever he was around.

“You have such a beautiful heart, Jay.” Said with a sincerity that threatened tears in the right moment.

“Your mind is incredible, you’re so intelligent.” Said with an awe that spoke of true wonder.

“You’re such a good man, Jason.” A promise, a vow of the truth the statement held for you.

Making sure to care for him through blankets draped over him in his vulnerable states, enveloping him in the softness the outside world never would.

Making sure to keep him well fed, showing your love through recipes passed down and long since mastered by your family.

The final action that spoke of your empathy though was one utilized when Jason wasn’t around. You were helping cover for him. Disappearances made around your friends were easy for you to excuse. When he gave you an apologetic kiss and uttered to the group an “it’s work, I’m sorry,” you’d follow up with “he has a highly demanding job, I’m so impressed by how much of himself he gives.” Your confidence and understanding kept people’s opinions of him high, your appreciation seeping into the roots of their minds the more you spoke tenderly of him; to help people see him as you saw him.

All in all, it’d been a great month of loving your boyfriend.

Jason was going to burst. Anxiety filling him to the seams as he came to terms with what he’d need to do. He had to confront your relationship problems. Trying to figure out when all this good would be ripped away was eating at him like termites in the wooden home of his brain.

All the praise, the home cooked meals, the soft blankets and somehow even softer greetings. The gentleness of your touch, like you thought he deserved to be held as something delicate. It was all too good to be true.

Something had to be wrong. This was the calm before some sort of storm. Overcompensation for how badly you wished to break up, maybe. Jason couldn’t fathom another explanation for why you’d be treating him like this. Like something precious.

The cruelty of whatever joke this was had self-doubt eating him alive. Itching beneath his skin and clawing its way out of him.

“What’s wrong with us?” Jason blurted one night, watching you make a pot pie crust from scratch, you’d been prepping dinner for at least an hour and a half while he simmered and stewed with anxiety. His eyes were locked on your hands, covered in flour and dough as you pressed the crust into your desired shape.

“I mean we’re a little strange as people, but I wouldn’t say anything otherwise.” Your lighthearted tone, still focused on the diligent work at your hands, did nothing to ease his worries.

“No. What’s wrong?”

The plea in his voice had you turning to look at him. His eyes were swimming with desperation; a broken shine to them that made you frown in concern.

“Jay? What’s this about? I don’t think anything’s wrong, but I don’t believe you’d ask unless you thought there was.” Your hands were rinsed and wiped on a dish towel as you stepped closer to him and there it was again, that empathetic lilt to your being that made him feel so undeserving.

The anxiety in his skin bubbled, a cauldron overflowing and exceeding containment, spilling over until no more was left inside. Every ounce of fear and worry splashed around him, rolling out in waves.

“I don’t deserve this.” Rushed words, a harsh admission in light of your softness.

“What do you mean?” Jason took a step back as you took one closer, he couldn’t let you touch him right now. Not when you’d slip in his mess and get swept away by the current, never to be seen again. You paused before moving back half a step, Jason found himself simultaneously weighed down by guilt and able to breathe easier.

“I don’t... This is all too nice. You are too nice. All this care and consideration, it’s wasted on me. Why are you being so fucking good to me?” His hand flew into his hair, tugging at the strands as he tried to let the pain ground him enough to suck in a deep breath.

“Jay, baby. You deserve all the good the world has to offer.”

“I DON’T! How can that possibly be true? The things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt. You don’t know. That’s how you can be so fucking kind to me, because you don’t know what I’m hiding.”

You nodded, seemingly undeterred by the panic Jason knew he was getting lost in.

“Okay. So, tell me? I bet you I can still find kindness to give no matter what secrets may unfold.”

That gave him pause. If anyone could look past what he’d done, it probably would be you. Hell, his family had forgiven and accepted him, and you hadn’t been through an eighth of the shit he put them through.

“I’m. I’ve hurt people. I’ve done some ugly things, some I’m not proud of and worse, some that I am. Are you sure you want to know?” He needed to hear you choose this, choose him, his truth.

“Tell me. Please.” It sounded more reassuring than afraid.

“I’m the Red Hood.” As the words left Jason’s lips, he looked down to the floor. He couldn’t face the look in your eyes yet, the horror that he might find in them. The disappointment as you realized your boyfriend was a murderer.

“Thank you for telling me.” That... didn’t sound horrified? It was almost... daresay, proud?

Jason hesitantly lifted his gaze to your form, watching you turn back around, fingers dancing as they always did when you considered the next step in your cooking, a soothing hum befalling your lips.

“That’s it?” That couldn’t possibly be the only reaction you had. He was expecting tears and anger and distrust. Even the worst case, being kicked out and never spoken to again, losing you entirely in the wake of this revelation.

You faced him again and Jason stilled as he saw the peaceful look on your face, posture relaxed and no less welcoming than it’d been before. With the light hitting just right, there was an air of relief as well. It was as though nothing had changed. As though this information... wasn’t... new...

Oh.

“You knew.” Not a question, a fact.

He watched as a guilty smile graced your lips, your legs shuffling where you stood and a breath of nervous laughter left your mouth.

“Maybe a little.” The admission felt both damning and relieving.

“I- What? How?”

“Maybe we sit down for this one? I get the feeling your emotions are awfully overwhelming right now.” You started to walk to the living room, making grabby hands behind you to get him to follow. Jason’s lips upturned at the cute habit, steps aligning with yours as he geared up for this conversation.

You placed yourself on one end of the couch, giving Jason the option of space if he still needed. He sat further than when he joined you for comfort, but within arm’s reach which was progress from the kitchen. You took a deep breath and began to explain.

“Okay, so it was about a month ago, when you got injured by the mustard gun. You came over the morning after, exhausted and worried about me, which just had me worrying about you, so I got to more thinking than usual, and it started to connect.”

“The way you frequently disappear at night and leave our plans, the injuries you end up with and the lack of explanation you tend to have for them. I thought for a minute that you were being abused at work. I suppose I wasn’t exactly wrong.” The laugh that left your lips came with a disbelieving head shake.

“I started looking deeper into the vigilantes of Gotham, well, just Red Hood. He was the only one I needed to look at that morning. Once I had pictures, it was all too easy to recognize the man I love. I could recognize you anywhere. I could recognize you by touch alone, by smell; I would know you blind, by the way your breaths came, and your feet struck the earth. I would know you in death, at the end of the world.”

You watched Jason’s eyes light up, some of his anxiety melting away at the familiar quote from a book you knew he favored despite the tears it’d brought you both.

“You don’t have a problem with that though? My identity? The crimes I commit, the lives I’ve taken, the families I’ve destroyed.” His voice trailed off at the end, quieter as shame clouded his gaze. Beneath it there was a desperation that screamed of a little boy’s fear. A young one’s need to be accepted with open arms and loved unconditionally.

“Jason, my love. You’re a hero. You have done more to save this city than I’m sure anyone gives you credit for. I don’t have a single problem with what you do nor what you’ve done to look out for our city, our home. You’ve been cleaning up in the ways you felt were needed. How could I fault you for that?” Your eyes locked with his, hands coming up to cup his face and reaffirm how genuine your words were.

“I love you. I love what you stand for. I appreciate you. I appreciate everything you do, everything you are, and everything you will ever be.” You promised.

For a moment, Jason sat frozen, looking at you as though his whole world view was changing before his eyes. Given his earlier insecurities, it very well may have been.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew?” A whispered curiosity uttered after moments of silence.

“I was waiting until you were ready. It wasn’t my secret to force out of you. I figured you’d share eventually, and until then I just wanted to care for you. I wanted someone to show you some damn appreciation, and I was more than content with that being me. That’s why I’ve been doing more for you, because you deserve it with all the hard work you do to clean this city up and keep her safe.” Your thumb stroked over his cheekbone, your touch matching the ease of your words.

Your head tilted slightly; lips downturned as you continued to speak. “I’m sorry my behavior left you so uneasy, it was never my intent for my compassion to scare you.”

In the seconds of quiet after, your heart rate picked up, this was going to be it huh? The moment when yet another partner confessed you were “too much.” That your affections were overbearing, your intensity frightening and something they weren’t willing to match. That it’d be better if this ended.

You’d accept Jason’s will if it were the case. You’d let your heart be sliced open, bleeding out from every cut so long as it would make him happy.

You moved to pull your hands from his face, feeling as though your permission was already being revoked. He caught them with his own, holding them sweetly.

“It wasn’t that it scared me. You could never scare me. It was that... It felt far too good to be true. I have a hard time believing that good things can happen to me without being ripped away.” Jason’s admission made your heart ache, longing for him to receive only the best from the world and to know that he deserved it.

“Jay...” He released hold of you to briefly put one hand up, asking you silently to wait a moment before speaking. When you kept quiet, he returned to his full hold on you. The light grip reassuring and soothing while you anticipated his next words.

“Sweetheart, you are the best thing that has happened to me in this and any lifetime. I am terrified of losing you, that’s what I’m scared of. I don’t want you to be ripped away like so many things I’ve tried to love before, and I don’t want you to leave. I fear that I would not survive a world where I no longer had you in my life. That’s where my panic came from, that’s why I was afraid to reveal my identity. I didn’t want to lose you.” Vulnerable eyes turned down to look at your combined hands. The feeling of his thumbs soothing over your skin providing as much assurance as his words.

You waited a handful of extra breaths to see if he had more to say, but it seemed no further words were making themselves known.

“You are the love of all my lives, Jason Todd. I’ll be here for as long as you let me.”

“That could be a long time, ya know?”

“I’m counting on it.”

Snuggled against Jason’s chest on the couch, dinner long since forgotten, a thought came to mind.

“So, you’re the Red Hood.”

“We’ve covered that, yes.”

You gave him a light nudge with your shoulder. “Hush.”

A brief chuckle before his lips pressed atop your head.

“So, you’re Red Hood. I know you work closely with the rest of the Bats, and you wouldn’t work closely with people you didn’t trust, not on this. You only trust a handful of people beyond me, and I know I’m not a vigilante. Since you’re all Gotham based, they must be around here too. The only people in the state that you trust are your family. Ergo, the rest of the Bats are the other Waynes, no?”

“And they call Batman the “world’s greatest detective.”

“Holy crap, that means they call Bruce that. Brucie Wayne the greatest detective. Oh my god.” You sat up, turning to face him with excitement.

“Hang on, I didn’t confirm your theory.”

“You didn’t deny it either!” Your finger pointed in his face, Jason leaning in to nip at it and making you both laugh.

“Don’t distract me! I’m totally right!”

“No comment.”

You leaned over to reach for your phone on the coffee table, Jason gripping your free arm to keep you from toppling over in your excitement. You smiled appreciatively at him before doing an image search on Gotham’s vigilantes. Looking closely at the pictures with what you knew only solidified your belief that much further.

“Would you... want to meet them?”

Your gaze snapped from the phone to look at Jason’s face, a nervous smile graced his lips, and his eye contact wavered as he waited for you to process.

“You want me to meet the Bats?” A light test of the waters, dipping your toe in.

“I want you to meet my family.” A hand taking yours, pulling you further in with a promise of security.

“Same thing.” A grin born of playfulness and safety.

“I’d love nothing more, Jay.” Left your lips whispered, excitement so encapsulating that it need be forced into something serene lest it overtake your entire being. Jason nodded, like he understood how deeply you were feeling before pulling you into a kiss. The unspoken words the kiss provided promised that he did, in fact, understand.

And the deeper the kiss found itself, the more it felt like an oath he always would.

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entomologistt · 5 months ago

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Reacting to you in a revealing outfit!

Featuring: Ganji Gupta, Demi Bourbon, Andrew Kreiss, Naib Subedar (separate)

Contains: slight suggestiveness (but nothing actually happens), fluff, kisses, pet names, match-like setting, Fem! reader

Ento note: Requested by Anon! Ty for this idea… I’m not over Ganji’s summer skin he’s so fine I need him NOW iwannabesaaaved

Ganji Gupta “Batter”

When the summer lineup was announced, it was to be himself, Norton, and Fiona as the S-tiers. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to walk up to the table in such a revealing summer swimsuit, complemented with other accessories.

You can’t see his eyes due to the sunglasses, but his jaw tightens as he turns away from you, tapping William awake. He leaned into him to whisper something, nudging the forward in the rib when he showed clear annoyance.

When the match starts, it’s you who takes the first kite. You do well enough until there are 2 ciphers left, finally knocked down and lifted off your knees. But before the hunter could place you into the chair, a water ball hits them square in the stomach, making them stumble back and you back on your feet.

A light of gold flashes behind you, and you recognize it as a late use of the excitement trait. Fully expecting to be knocked back down, a bell dings, but you’re still up. You’re shoved past a pallet, making you look back to see Ganji throwing it down. He limps after you, clutching his toned abdomen… that could only mean he took the hit for you.

William was nowhere to be seen. Ganji is determined to show off to you, harassing the hunter to keep you alive, and boy, does he come in for the clutch every time you think you’re done for. God, did he look fine doing it too; he even took the final hit for you for the last cipher to pop!

The hunter ends up surrendering, and you all return back. The first thing you’re met with when you open your eyes is Ganji’s chest, your eyes moving up to meet his hidden ones. “Thank you, Ganji, you really saved me…! You were amazing!” you say in appreciation, smiling sweetly as you lift your hand to take a hibiscus flower that was tucked in your hair, offering it to him.

“For you, Ganji!” ... He wanted to ask you about the costume—but the sweet gesture of offering him a flower and your praise was the thing that made his face heat up.

Demi Bourbon “Barmaid”

You walk up to the table, taking your seat. You tug at the straps of the top, adjusting whatever was necessary. Demi looks over your rather revealing outfit, her green eyes meeting yours, and her next action will depend on you.

If you’re self-conscious about it, she offers a gentle smile, affirming that you look good, that she’ll have your back. But if you’re staring at her, thanking her for her compliments bashfully, she gives you one of her famous winks, showering you with a more sweet compliments and playful teasing before the match begins.

During the match, Demi takes the first kite and does pretty well; it is her strong suit after all. But insolence and blink have it out for her, two bells dinging at once. She drinks the mysterious Dovlin, and the hunter loses sight of her—she immediately runs around the map to find you!

Since she’s a bit tipsy, she stumbles towards you, giggling as her arms snake around your shoulders, rubbing her cheek against yours. “Y/nnnnnn! My pretty girl!” she coos and giggles, swaying with you while you decode. “Are you proud of me, hun? This is the last cipher… Focus, darling.” “Demi…! Very proud! Now help me push the cipher!”

When the cipher pops, you were expecting to have to drag her to the gate, but she takes your hand, pulling you to it. While you’re decoding the gate door, she twirls one of her white strands of hair with her finger, leaning into you as she playfully bats her lashes at you. “Can I get a kiss from my beautiful girl?”

Please kiss her; you look so hot she wants to eat you up… When the gate opens, you gently cup her face with your latex gloves, and she practically melts in your hold. Her lashes flutter shut when your lips meet, a short but sweet kiss. When you two pull away, she shoots you a wink as you lick your lips, the taste of dovlin lingering on your glossy lips. “You’re very pretty too, Demi.”

Andrew Kreiss “Grave keeper”

A gasp leaves his lips when you take your spot beside him, but instead of sitting, you stay standing, leaning on the chair. Your outfit is filled with black lace, a gothic costume with pretty red roses. You were a part of a gothic vampire essence! Despite how much it showed, he genuinely thought you looked pretty in it.

“Hi Andrew!” The pale skin of his face immediately heats up, not realizing that he was staring at you. He immediately shrinks a bit and rips his gaze from you, whispering an apology.

Neither of you are first kite, nor do you get a heartbeat. You got a friendly hunter! Not only that, but it’s Red Church night! And you know how Andrew likes this setting as the night sky graces the environment, illuminated by candle lights and jack-o'-lanterns.

Finally, you found him in a corner, decoding a cipher, decoding away. You join him, a small smile on your face. You for him to talk to you first, to get comfortable, allowing him to simply enjoy your close presence. When the cipher was popped, there was silence between you both.

“You… Y-You look… Divine tonight, y/n,” he said softly, his red eyes meeting yours. Even if a lot was exposed, he saw past that, appreciating you... for you! Though, he did struggle a bit to keep his eyes on you, wanting to be respectful. “Thank you, my sweet Andrew.”

Since there’s not much to worry about, you two stay close together, enjoying each other’s presence while the other three were in the basement for some reason. Andrew followed you around in his shovel state, popping out halfway once you stopped, looking up at you curiously.

You crouched down, gently cupping his face in your lace gloves with a smile on your face. You brush some dirt from him, something you’ve grown used to. Leaning down, you press a soft kiss onto his forehead, making his breath hitch in his throat, his pale face becoming red once again, matching the blood red lipstick stain you left on his skin.

Naib Subedar “Mercenary”

When you take your seat beside him, you hum and tap the table in front of him, trying to get his attention. But he scoffs, keeping his arms crossed as he keeps his head lowered, hood over his eyes. “What?? No costume? I think you’ll like mine!” you cheer, but it doesn’t deter him from acting like… himself. You hum and push your plate of food to him, to which he accepts, giving you a nod of gratitude.

You take the first kite, but it doesn’t go so well. Whether you got terrorshocked on purpose or not, it doesn’t matter because the motherfuckin’ mercenary is on your team.

While you’re squirming on the chair, Naib suddenly slams into it from the power of his elbow pads, his arm over your head. The hunter had left, not needing to camp… Or they just got greedy after getting a terrorshock so early into the game.

His eyes lock onto yours, his brow furrowed as he took a sharp breath of air. “We gotta go; they’re sure to be back. Getting cocky 'cause you got terrorshocked,” he said in a low, hushed tone.

His strong hand takes the handle of the chair, ready to lift it off you until he pauses, looking down at your revealing costume, added with the angle he had of you as he loomed over your form.

Naib lifted the handle off of you, ripping the cuffs off before taking your wrist. He says nothing, dragging you along with him to safety as another survivor calls out that the hunter was on them. He takes you to a cipher, and when you decode with him, you realize he had missed many calibrations. He was actually on edge, worried about you. He definitely noticed your costume and stayed close to you for the rest of the game, practically your shadow, glaring daggers around the others.

#identity v x you #identity v x reader #idv x you #idv x reader #ganji gupta x reader #demi bourbon x reader #andrew kreiss x reader #naib subedar x reader #ganji gupta #demi bourbon #andrew kreiss #naib subedar #ento writes #idv fanfic #idv headcanons

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liillyliilly · 11 months ago

Text

No Free-Solo

kenji sato x reader words; 10021 synopsis; from high school on, kenji couldn't do it alone, especially not when she was there for him.

“You’re missing me with that busy shit. You’re missing me with your whole ‘I can’t come over tonight’ act.” Kenji sat in what she liked to refer to as his dungeon, his lair, his Ultraman den. His too large for life couch made of black leather was cold and the emptiness was expansive in his mansion. He wanted her near, he wanted her to come back.

“I really can’t come over, I’m helping out Ami with Chiho tonight.” She tried to let him down gently, but he huffed through the phone.

She wasn’t a nanny per se, but she did do a fair amount of long-term babysitting for lots of people, mostly for Ami, occasionally for other busy mothers. She had a certain touch to the whole watching and raising kids thing, entertaining the child while also educating them.

Chiho was snoring in her bed. Ami was out with her fellow reporter boyfriend. And she, well she was watching movies in the family room of Ami’s house. Drawings that Chiho had done were covering the walls, plenty of Ultraman pictures to Kenji’s amusement.

She knew the Sato family through a long-winded connection by friendship shared between mothers. Kenji’s mom was best friends with her mom. In terms of maturity though, she was light years ahead of Kenji even when they were in high school. Back in America, when life was typical (meaning lacking in Kaiju and Ultraman responsibility) and the LA Dodgers still reigned supreme in Kenji’s head. They had met for the first time right before her junior year and his senior year.

She would be the youngest junior at the school and he would be one of the oldest seniors at their Los Angeles high school.

Her mom had insisted they visit her good friend the summer before her junior year started, and that she would need to help the son out in adapting to American High school since they had just moved from Japan.

She was worried due to a potential language barrier, but her mom assured her that he would be fluent in English. But how would her mom know that? Her anxiety was off the charts. She spent hours studying basic Japanese, which she found was probably going to kill her, why a language needs more than one writing system was beyond her.

“Ah! It’s so good to see you, Emiko!” Her mom went in for a big hug, and the petite Japanese woman returned the hug with as much enthusiasm as had been given. Her mom muttered about the separation between Emiko and Hayao, and Emiko gave a strained smile, leading them into the house.

Kenji was lounging on the couch, which she soon learned that he loved to do, a tendency to sprawl due to his height and lankiness. He was switching TV channels, until he landed on a baseball game and committed to watching that.

Her mom ushered her over to him, telling her to make conversation and get to know him. How she expected her to do that despite not knowing him at all was a wonder. She didn’t suspect that they had anything in common, and with the zeal he was watching the baseball game, she also suspected that he wasn’t going to be a huge fan of her preference for movies and shows over sports.

So she mustered up a greeting in Japanese from a textbook she had picked up. She had missed the way his eyes glinted with amusement, it was at that moment he decided to play just a small inconsequential game. A game where he pretended he didn’t know any English.

He responded in Japanese, and she realized she really knew nothing at all about Japanese. He sat up and patted the seat next to him. The moms left the main living space in favor of drinking some tea upstairs on a balcony, leaving her alone and incapable of communicating.

Pointing to herself, she said her name with a forced smile. He said ‘Kenji’ while pointing to himself and saying a variety of other words that she had no idea meant anything at all. At least Japanese sounded pretty, so she started thinking about the linguistic history and design of the syllables. He waved a hand in front of her face and she snapped out of her mini history lesson to herself.

Pushing his joke a little further, he used his head to point to a door near the stairs. She raised an eyebrow. He spoke for a few more moments, and she could only stiffly smile and nod in return. When he grabbed her hand and went to the door she thought she was going to die.

Inside the door was his room, and she really thought that this was the end of her sanity, her childhood, her innocence. She had fandangled herself into an intimate relationship with someone who didn’t even speak English and her heart was going to burst at the seams. Trying to recall all the words she had memorized, she was mad that she never learned the words for; no, stop, or I’ll kill you.

It was when she began to slink towards the door and hold her arms across her body in a cross shape that he realized maybe he should drop the joke. Her ears seemed like they were burning and her breathing had increased to a mile a minute in pace.

“Relax, I just wanted to show you my baseball cards.” He held up a binder and opened it to reveal a collection of player cards double sleeved and tucked neatly into a sheet protector.

“I thought you didn’t speak any English!” She frowned and put a hand to her heart. He laughed and she realized she had fallen for a trick.

“My bad.” He holds his hands together and puts them up near his head with a slight bow to apologize. Kenji pushes his bangs back and licks his top row of teeth, “Do you know if our school has a baseball team?” He asks.

She nods. “We’re in the top bracket for playing, it’s super hard to get onto the team though, my friend tried-”

He raised a hand to get her to stop speaking, then he informed her of his inherent athletic prowess, “Believe me, I’ll get onto the team.”

And he had. He’d even qualified to play on the varsity team.

A few months into the school year, while she was eating in the library with some friends, Kenji came bustling into the open space with his pack of baseball players. They always tagged along behind him, treating him like some sort of fancy foreign exchange kid, which she realized was exactly the situation and so her mental analogy didn’t end up working out and she clicked her teeth.

But the majority of white boys at the school did tend to lean a little too hard into the racial stereotypes and unfunny jokes. All Kenji could do sometimes was purse his lips and keep eating his natto. They thought because they had an Asian friend it was an excuse for their behavior, why Kenji never stood up to them and told them off was a huge confounding plight in her eyes. Kenji himself didn’t quite understand it either. Not even when they shortened his name into just Ken for ease and convenience.

Before she could tidy up her comparison and dissection of Kenji Sato, he was leaning on her desk, eating her carrots and searching for her eyes to meet him. He said something in Japanese, and she tried to remember how the words sounded so she could look up what he had said.

“I need your help.” He stole a bite of her sandwich, then drank some of her water. Before he even took it without asking, she offered her pastry to him and he ate the whole thing in one bite and mumbled a ‘thanks’ with his mouth full. He finished chewing and swallowing.

“I need you to pretend to date me so I can get these guys off my back.” He stuck his thumb in the direction of his teammates.

“Absolutely not. No way in hell, Kenji.” She started to pack up her bag, but he just put his hand on her bag and pressed it hard against the desk. With his other hand he gently grabbed her by the chin, and tilted her face up to his. Inches away. Her eyes went wide.

“Pretty please?” He licked his lips and she tried to bring her own face back to avoid his tongue getting to her lips.

She thought about what her mom said, telling her to help out Kenji if he needed it. This couldn't apply though, right?

“I’m going to need so many favors.” She groaned, managing to get her bag out from under his hands.

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, ruffling her hair and heading out with his friends who began to goad him for keeping her a secret for so long. He had just taken her first kiss and it didn’t seem like it bothered him at all. She was too busy pressing her hand to her lips to even notice the way his ears were a scorching hot red.

When she went to research what he had said to her, she thought she must have misheard him because the proposed English translation was something along the lines of, ‘please let this work out in my favor’.

Continuously, she called in favors, and he was there to meet them. Getting books off the top shelves in the library. Sharpening pencils when they were studying. Even helping her learn just a little more of his language.

“No, no you gotta give each syllable its own beat. Copy me.” Kenji went over the blended ‘r’ and ‘l’ sound that felt clunky in her mouth.

She did replicate what he was saying, at least to her own belief that that was her best ability. He laughed a little and she frowned.

“Okay, move your tongue a little, right behind your front teeth, but also not touching your teeth, just let your tongue kinda do the sound in the middle.” Kenji opened his mouth a little so she could observe. She tried again but it sounded even worse than the first attempt.

“I wish I could just move your tongue for you so you could get the motion right.” She looked quickly side to side, biting her bottom lip. Kenji backtracked immediately, “That didn’t come out quite right, I think that’s enough Japanese for one day.” She nodded rapidly and closed the journal she was using to take notes.

He said that they could go get food, she agreed and they got burgers and milkshakes at a run down family owned diner. He paid, despite her insisting she could pay for her own food. Saying that that was apart of the whole fake dating thing.

“You know, you do a lot of things under the guise of our not dating, dating thing.” She sipped her milkshake. Kenji took a bite of his burger, musing about what he would say.

“Well, we’re friends as well right?”

“Yeah, we’ve been hanging out since you basically arrived here. We’re friends, but honestly, we behave more like best friends.” She finished off her shake and cleaned up her area.

That was something he liked about her, her consideration for cleanliness and organization. But also her appreciation for others around her, cleaning up her stuff so that the likely overworked waitress didn’t have to. A person who thinks about other people. Now that was his type he decided.

“I’m happy with being best friends.”

In all fairness, he was probably the best fake boyfriend that a girl could’ve asked for. They had settled on knowing their relationship was best friends, but for others they had the additional label of dating. Sometimes though, he’d do something like grab her hand or wrap an arm around her. When those situations presented themselves, she always looked for possible viewers, his teammates. But based on her data, he only did things like that around 20% of the time when his teammates were actually watching. Meaning that the other 80% of the time he did the physical acts of affection, no one was around to watch.

While his English was practically perfect, he had the hardest time in social studies and history, so he got her help with his U.S. government class. He claimed that because he hadn’t lived here at all, and because he had Japanese citizenship that this class was completely useless for him. His defeatist attitude towards history made her roll her eyes at him.

One day, when she was intending to come over to help him, Emiko crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as he cleaned up his room. He threw his baseball socks and jersey into the dirty clothes hamper.

“She’s coming over then?”

He mumbled an affirmative answer.

Emiko got giddy, saying she’d make a good rich curry tonight for dinner and that he’d need to tell her to stay for dinner. He gave a wave and kept picking up his room.

When the doorbell rang, he ran to the door. Emiko chastened him and told him to calm down. He let her in, and she greeted his mom, giving Emiko the box of fruit her own mom told her to drop off. He complained in Japanese that she always went straight to his mom instead of greeting him first. Emiko in turn smiled at her while scolding her son again in Japanese.

Watching the conversation unfold, she shrugged, Japanese was just not her strong suit.

“How hard is it to understand a constitutional federal republic?” She looked over his essay answer to a prompt she had given him to practice for his upcoming test. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, chewing the end of a pen. She was leaning against his bed frame, reading papers and marking up his essay with her red pen. Each time she made another red mark, he grumbled. Of all the people she had tutored though, his handwriting was the best.

“Correct these things first, and then I can edit again with my orange pen.” She held up said pen while handing the paper back to him. He just mimicked what she had said, holding his own pen the same way she had held up hers, even going so far as to bring his shoulders upwards to make him appear smaller.

In response to the insulting imitation she grabbed her notebook and hit him repeatedly on the knee. He let out a pained ouch, and she felt bad, so she put the notebook away and just patted his knee instead.

“If you really loved me you’d just write out the whole essay and then I could just memorize it and cross apply the right parts for the actual prompt Mr. Henry gives in class next week.” Kenji adjusted his body position, and her hand wasn’t on his knee anymore but dead center of his thigh instead. He smirks, and she immediately retracts her hand.

“Good thing I don’t love you then.” Kenji presses his hand to his heart and sighs, falling back into his pillow. “Just do the essay Jiji.”

He lifted his head and repeated what she had said, “Jiji?”

“Kenji.” She says his name and enunciates the two syllables cleanly.

“I like Jiji, I think it suits me. It’s a cute nickname.”

He finished rewriting the essay while she poked around his room. Photos of him with his mom and dad, which she already knew not to ask about because last time she did he went total silence for two weeks. But then he felt guilty about ghosting and took her out to get a sweet treat everyday after school for one week straight. Trophies from his old school back in Japan for his baseball achievements. Multiple MVP awards from the games he had played here.

The other photos that were in his room were mostly of him and his teammates. He just didn’t look too happy in those ones, so she tried to skim them, but failed. His teammates did their best to make him seem like he was a part of the group, but it just didn’t click all the way. Kenji always looked too serious in the photos, or it seemed like he was actually looking at the baseball diamond instead of the person taking the photo.

There was an adorable little figure, made either of acrylic or vinyl, of a little superhero with a red and silver supersuit and a blue circle on the chest. She picked it up and inspected it. What she assumed was Kenji’s name was on the foot of the toy. She bent the arms of the toy and moved it around like it was flying midair.

Kenji had completely paused writing his essay in favor of watching her dart around his room. He clenched his jaw for a second when she picked up the Ultraman toy, then eased his body language when she started making the toy fly around. If only that’s what Ultraman really was, just a toy. Just a toy and not an impending responsibility to protect and serve the people of Japan from Kaiju monsters. He wondered if she’d ever want to live somewhere besides Los Angeles. Tokyo for example.

“Kenji! Curry! Get the applesauce from the cabinet please!” Emiko called out.

She set the toy down and turned around, but Kenji was already standing right behind her. He had only meant to watch her movements a little more closely, but now this was entirely too close. He played it off like he was adjusting the Ultraman doll, smiled and then opened his door for her to exit and head downstairs.

When he heard the steps trailing down, he silently screamed and raised his hands to the sides of his head. Then he dragged a hand down his face and carded fingers through his hair. He envied the self he saw in the photos, cool and nonchalant.

“So, are there any boys you think are cute at school?” Emiko ate another bite of katsu that was drenched in curry sauce.

She swallowed thickly for a second, “I- uh, no. There’s not many good options for dating material at a hyper-athletic school.” She laughed to cut the edge off the conversation.

Emiko drank some water, but then prodded a little more. Kenji wished the earth would open and swallow him up.

“Not even at a school full of athletes? I would’ve sworn there were some good options for you on Kenji’s baseball team. What was his name? Eric? Eli?”

“Ohh, Ezra Johnson?” She supplied, eating some applesauce and then tapping her mouth with a napkin.

Kenji looked to her, then to his mom, then back at her. He was trying to stuff his face with his food so he could exit the conversation and then drag her and himself back to his room. She seemed insistent on blocking out the whole fake dating thing from his mom’s view and perception.

“Yes! He’s a really nice kid! He actually greeted me when I went to the first game. It was so sweet of him. His mom and I got to know each other a little bit. I can send you his details if you want?” Emiko grazed the back of her phone.

“No!” Kenji burst. His mom and his fake girlfriend both looked at him. “Uh, Ezra is talking to this girl named, um, Claire. Yeah, Claire.” He held his plate up and his mom nodded.

Rinsing his plate off he put it into the dishwasher, then from behind his mom’s back he tried mouthing to her so they could go back upstairs but she was too busy still talking to his mom to notice anything.

When she finally finished eating, she said she needed to go back home.

“What about my essay though?” Kenji rested his forearms on the kitchen counter while she was busy doing the dishes despite having to gently fight with Emiko about letting her even do the dishes in the first place.

“I gave you enough content to work with, just do the corrections and you’ll be good to go.” She bumped the dishwasher with her hip to close it, and he wondered what her bumping into him would feel like. And then he groveled a little that he wanted to be a dishwasher for even a split second. “I need to do my own homework now, tell your mom thank you again for me, okay?”

She rubbed his arm to comfort him slightly, but he took his chance to reach to her hip, tugging her lightly into him.

“What are you doing?” She hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down in case Emiko was still lurking around.

“Saying thanks for the help, goodbye, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grabbed the hand that she had on his arm and held her hand for a second, then brought it up to his mouth to press a light kiss to her knuckles.

She smiled, then pushed his shoulder.

When she had left the house, he flung himself onto the couch and giggled a little. Kicking his feet that were dangling over the arm of the couch. His mom peeked downstairs to see Kenji wriggling around and muttering. She just laughed a little. Maybe her instigation had worked out in the end.

The next week, she was hounded by baseball players after school.

She kept holding up a hand to cover her face, but they would not relent. Asking questions about her and Kenji. What Kenji was like outside of school, outside of baseball. If Kenji ever stopped being serious and aloof for even a minute. At this point they were just crowding her and not giving her the space to breathe.

She kept giving short curt answers, tugging her backpack straps closer and closer to her. At one point, one of them stepped on her foot and she winced a little.

It was like some kind of sonar sensor, Kenji could tell something was wrong. When he turned the corner, all he could see was his girl getting cornered by a bunch of idiots who didn’t even have his best interest at heart. The only reason why he asked her to fake date him was so that he could get out of dates with the girls his teammates had thought would suit him. The secondary reason was so she could avoid his teammates entirely. But clearly, the second reason did not go as planned because his teammates were a bunch of no-brainers who didn’t even really care about baseball.

“Hey, let’s go, I’ll drive you home today.” Kenji stuck his hand in between two of his teammates, and she grabbed it, so he was able to pull her out from the crowd they had made around her.

He strung two fingers around her jean belt loop and guided her to his car. When they finally sat down, and Kenji had started the engine, she let out a shaky breath. He put his hand behind her seat, and then moved his hand so he could lightly touch the back of her neck at her nape.

“Are you okay? I had no idea they would do something like that, I mean, it’s just completely ridiculous. I don’t even talk to them that much, if at all. And they treat me like some kind of foreigner, which I may be yeah, but really come on. That’s just herd mentality to the max. Ridiculous behavior, so childish.” Kenji kept talking while driving, she thought that maybe he needed a chance to really unload everything and mitigate the tension that had built up around him.

When they got to her house, he apologized again. And again.

“Don’t let it eat you alive, it’s all good, no harm no foul, if it makes you feel better, they totally reeked of body odor.” She chimed in after he finished his long wind of apologies. “And, um, what time is your game on Wednesday? My mom asked, she wants to hang out with your mom.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to see me completely kill the opposing team.” Kenji tried to lean out of the car just a little more, but his seatbelt kept him from getting his head out of the passenger side window. “I’ll text you. Get to your house safe ok?”

To her house from the car was approximately seven steps. The smile she gave him wrinkled her eyes and creased her nose just perfectly. He slid his hands up and down the wheel, smiling to himself as he started home.

The game went perfectly, he stole practically all the bases, and he made two home run hits. And an LA Dodgers scout was there. Once he got the documents and the scout shaked his hand, he was over the moon excited to play for the best team in the United States.

When he saw her with her mom and his mom, he just couldn’t hold himself back. In a second, he was hugging her and ranting about the scout continuously just repeating the experience over and over. Since his mom knew she would have a hard time prying Kenji off of his best friend, she just had to listen in to what he was saying, and she clapped when she had finally heard it all, celebrating from just far enough away to let them enjoy the moment.

His graduation was boring, she sat with his mom in the stands waiting for him to get his name called out. There were a lot of speeches, and she recognized the valedictorian from various library encounters, but for the most part everyone was a stranger to her. Emiko kept getting a call from an international number, but she didn’t try to ask about it.

Kenji barrelled through the crowd of graduates to get to his people, his mom and his best friend. When he started to talk about what he was going to do over the summer, his baseball camps and training, getting to meet the members of his team. His mom put a gentle hand to his shoulder, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the serious environment his mom had suddenly crafted. She backed away a little, but Kenji grabbed her hand and shook his head, telling her to stay for whatever his mom had to say.

“Kenji, your dad, he’s, your dad wants to talk to you. He’s, he’s on the phone.” Emiko couldn’t help but stutter a little, unnerved with how Kenji would react.

Kenji shook his head no, pulling her closer to him trying to use her as a crutch to prevent an interaction with his father from occurring. She looked between Kenji and his mother for a moment. Emiko with her tightened face and hand gripping the phone tightly said more than what her original request was saying. Emiko wanted Kenji to answer the call. So, she in turn encouraged him to answer it.

“Jiji, just answer the call. It’s your dad.” He felt betrayed.

“I’m not picking up the phone, I’m not talking to dad, and I’m getting a ride with a friend.” He pulls his hand away, despite missing her touch, and leaves his mom and her standing and stunned from his reaction.

Emiko pulled her into a side hug. “Thanks for backing me, you’re much more mature than I think people give you credit for. I have udon at home, call your mom and let’s have a girls night. I don’t think he’ll be home for a while. I’ll let him blow off steam today, but don’t think I’m soft on him, he’ll have some hell to pay when I catch him tomorrow.”

Patting the back of her head, Emiko went to the small electric van. She stood for a second, thinking about the space Kenji had just occupied. Maybe the family dynamic in the Sato household was more complex than she had anticipated, Emiko seemed to still love her husband despite them being separated. Kenji seemed adverse to and angry with his father, but Emiko didn’t carry any slight of resentment.

Girls night was a blast, including face masks and bad romance movies. Kenji got back around midnight, just as her mom and her were leaving his house. When she left, he was the one who closed the door after her. He gave a short pained smile and a wave. In her mind, it was a win because at least he wasn’t upset with her for taking Emiko’s side.

Summer was hot and burned the apples of her cheeks, leaving both sunburns and memories in it’s fragmented state. Kenji was busy conditioning for baseball practically everyday. Somedays he’d invite her out just to watch him play, so she could sip some icy lemonade and sit in the shade instead of being cooped in her house doing whatever it is that homebodies do.

It would be deceiving to say that she didn’t enjoy just watching him play. The way his baseball jersey would bunch at his elbows and shoulders when he hit the ball. Or the way he would run the bases each time he missed a throw from the ball machine. He still needed to get a haircut, so his bangs would completely cover most of his face, until he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and his almost snake-like eyes would study her from afar.

The best part was when he told her to move her legs a little, so he could sit on the row of bleachers in front of her. Eventually positioning himself to settle in between her legs, resting his arms on her thighs and his head was leaning on her torso. Although his sweat would lightly mark up her shirts when his hair dripped from his practice rounds, she still loved to be there for him in this capacity.

Either he was here with her or he would be at the diamond alone and angry. When he came alone, he would throw his bat when he made a mistake instead of just brushing it off and doing a lap. Somehow, doing baseball training alone while waiting for official LA Dodgers’ orders made him all pent up and out of control. So when she came to observe, it felt like he had more things in his control, his ability to manage.

“How are you gonna survive without me next year?” Kenji rolled his shoulders before getting his water bottle and guzzling down the IV infused liquid.

“Well, as far as everyone knows, we’re still dating, so I’ll have another year of free solo-ing the romance world at a hormone ridden cesspool.” She slid her backpack on, ready to start the trek home.

Kenji slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, then quickly switched which shoulder his bag was on once he saw which side she let her bag rest on, so that their bags wouldn’t bump into each other as he walked her home.

“You’re not gonna tell people we ended it?” Kenji sucked in some air through his teeth, readjusting the bag’s weight placement a little.

“Nah, it’s just easier that way. At graduation though if anyone asks how we’re doing I’ll say you found a supermodel that preys on greenie Pro-Baseball players.”

He nods, accepting the route she was going in order to terminalize their fake relationship.

“I was a good boyfriend though, right?” Maybe he asked so that he could feel out the possibility of a real one, or seeing what he could do better when he finally worked up enough courage to ask her out for real and for forever. For now though, he knew that friendship would satiate most of his yearning for her time and attention.

“Comparatively, to what I heard other girls went through, you were practically a saint. I mean, you never did press me into a couch so we could make out. Ruby held that over my head for the whole year once her girlfriend did that to her.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad actually,” Kenji stroked his chin, “One last boyfriend duty for me to do before I get too busy, ya know?”

“Kiss me without permission and you're a dead baseball boy.” He held up his hands defensively.

“That was one time.”

“In the middle of the library, in front of a good majority of my friends, right after I had been begged to be a fake girlfriend.”

Kenji raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head, “I do not recall begging.”

“You definitely begged,” She clasped her hands together and turned towards him, pausing their pace on the sidewalk for her to parody him, “Pretty please.”

She fluttered her eyelashes and pouted dramatically.

He rolled his eyes and tugged her hands so she would keep walking.

The postseason began around October for Kenji, and he made his official debut into the stage of professional baseball. Around the fifth game he played, he snapped. And that’s why he was sitting on her bathroom counter holding a bag of peas to the side of his face, while she dug through the closet just outside the bathroom looking for a first aid kit.

The catcher had just stepped out of line according to Kenji, messing up his at bat routine with his comments about his age, his inexperience, his lack of genuine talent. The first punch was Kenji’s, the second punch was the catcher’s and it rocked Kenji immediately.

Tasting the metallic blood in his mouth, he was just glad all his teeth were okay. He did feel bad for going to her instead of going home. But he knew that his mom would’ve killed him for hitting another player. The only reason why his mom wasn’t at this specific game was because she had some research files from years ago that his father needed, so she was spending the time trying to transfer data from floppy disks to USB drives.

She should’ve been asleep, or studying for her upcoming exams. He felt like an inconvenience and like a child who was being coddled, but he did feel like he was being fawned over by her which he could live with. Even the way she had reacted to him texting her and asking if she could help patch him up a little. She had sent nearly thirty messages, mostly angry, but also laced with worry.

“This might sting a little.” She reached up and pressed a cloth to his lip. He lurched away from the disinfectant, and she almost fell over due to having to reach up to get to his face.

“Hold on, give me a second.” Kenji got off the counter regardless of her complaints, she stopped complaining and was silenced once he swapped their positions, her sitting on the counter and him in front of her with his hands on either side of her hips, placed on the edge of the counter. “Better.”

She hummed a little, pressing the cloth to his face again, he tried to not lurch away this time. She put some triple antibiotic ointment on his lip and temple where there were some cuts. Putting some small star shaped bandages on his face where the cuts were biggest.

“All done!” She put her hands on his shoulders and gave a big smile.

Maybe he leaned in, maybe he didn’t. But their lips were definitely touching. When she pushed him away he realized he must have made a fatal error. So he decided to play it off.

“Sorry, a little faint from the fight earlier, not in my right mind.”

“Yeah, you, uh, you were just trying to, yeah.” She chewed the inside of her mouth.

Kenji helped her off the counter, and walked to her front door, ready to head out.

Holding onto the door, she stuck her head out and commented to him before he got too far away from hearing distance, “No more fights okay?”

He threw her a thumbs up before leaving her house. When he was safely back in his car, he did something that was all too familiar when he slipped up around her, he silently screamed and gripped his hair.

Years went by.

They stayed close, and he made sure of that. Baseball was going great, but no championships under his belt. She had graduated college, working at an office as an assistant. She moved out of her family home and got a shared apartment with some college friends who also worked in the main part of Los Angeles

Then, his dad hurt his leg, and everything went to hell. Hayao had called, telling Kenji it was finally time to take the name of Ultraman. He now needed to bear the gauntlet, the responsibility of keeping his home country safe. His mom just agreed, putting her hands on Kenji’s knee. Telling Kenji it was finally time for him to go home and be who he was supposed to be. And he was supposed to be Ultraman?

Baseball was his thing, he knew baseball and he was good at it too. Baseball felt like home, LA felt like his home, she felt like his home.

On top of all that, within a week of his father’s request and his mother’s urging, his mother had an accident. He had no idea what happened. Just that one day, Emiko was there and then she wasn’t.

He was depressed, and so he drank. His house was a mess. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, he was wearing the same clothes from four days ago. His toothbrush had become unfamiliar. He didn’t bother turning on the lights, staying in the dark and sulking.

When her mom found out about Emiko’s disappearance and presumed death, she called her daughter and told her to check in on Kenji. He had been distant lately, and she knew that the distance was a result of his grief. Her stomach twisted into knots, and she realized she hadn’t reached out to him in a few weeks.

His front door was locked, she had a basket of fruit and a stack of tupperwares filled with lunches and dinners for an entire week. She tried to think about what food were both comforting and had a lot of protein, so she made a variety of pasta dishes with extra meat.

“Kenji?” She knocked repeatedly, checking her phone only to see that her messages had been left on read. She called out for him again, knocking harder. “I know you’re in there Jiji.”

Opening the door made her grasp the gravity of the situation he was in. His hair was covering his face, he seemed to have recoiled into himself, wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt instead of his typical jeans and jersey thrown over a solid color tee. He smelled too, not of his usual mintiness and clean linen, but of all and any sort of alcohol. With eye bags darker than dirt, and hollow looking features, he just left the door open as he lurked back into his blacked out house.

Setting her gifts on his kitchen counter, she turned on the lights, and got to work. First the dishes, and then she picked up all the clothing and started a load of laundry. She made him a plate of the food she had brought, and a big glass of water and some Advil for the inevitable hangover he would have.

Lying on the couch, Kenji played with the hem of his sweatshirt. He tried to take another sip straight from a bottle of red wine when she stole it out of his hands. Whining, he told her to give it back and turn the lights off. She clicked her tongue.

“Eat this,” she handed him the plate, “Drink this,” she sat the water and pill on the coffee table. She tapped her foot, her arms folded in front of her chest. He groaned but did as told.

Satisfied with his actions, she dragged him upstairs and told him to take a shower. Hearing the water running, she looked around his room and cleaned it up. His passport, along with a one way ticket to Tokyo for one month out, was on the floor, covered by blankets that were strewn around. Opened letters were lying on the floor as well, pictures and clippings of ‘Kaiju’ attacks in Japan. Maybe she needed to brush up on her international news instead of staying in her little bubble.

Coming out of the shower with baggy clothes on, he dried his hair with a small towel.

“What are you doing?” He saw her holding the letters his dad had sent. He reached out for them, but she held them back and to her chest.

“What are Kaiju?”

Soon, he was sitting on his bed with her as well. He had the Ultraman doll in his left hand and a stuffed animal that she had given him some years ago in his right hand.

“Basically, I’m this, by blood,” He shook the Ultraman doll, “And I’m supposed to fight these back home. Since my father can’t anymore.” Laughing slightly, he slammed Ultraman into the stuffie repeatedly.

Her eyes were wide. She may not have understood everything about what he was, or what he was supposed to be doing, but she knew it was important to him to some degree. It was irrelevant that his dad needed him, the only thing he cared about was that his mom had asked him to take the step to become something he wasn’t sure of.

But the idea that her best friend was going to be a superhero? That he could change into some kind of robotic monster slayer? She had to disconnect a little from reality just to process the whole thing.

Suddenly, he thought of something that could possibly get him out of his funk. Something that could make his time in Tokyo, living an entirely new life bearable.

“There’s some extra rooms at the place I’ll be living in. I know that you want to go to some kind of graduate school. There are really good graduate schools in Tokyo.” He scratched the back of his head, if she said yes, then he would be truly mortified that she had seen him like this but he would also get to have neverending time with her on a day to day basis if she agreed.

“I remember none of the Japanese you taught me, I’d need to get a visa,” She started listing off all the things that would keep her from leaving, “But, uh, I think I’ll go with you. Yes.”

“I can handle the visa thing, you’re just going to need to sign some papers and have an interview with some people, and you’ll need to wear a ring on your ring finger. As for the Japanese, I’m a better teacher now than when I was 18.”

Getting married was not on her bucket list, but at least she could get better tuition at her graduate school for technically being a form of naturalized Japanese national. Her mom was glad to see her living away from LA, and she was grateful for Kenji going with her daughter. Her mom just didn’t know about the marriage for a green card/visa situation, and honestly, she didn’t plan on telling her mom.

The whole flight to Tokyo she was practicing her Japanese with Kenji. For the first time in a long time, he was actually happy. Not ready for the whole Ultraman thing, but ready at least to leave home and be out of LA. Los Angeles reminded him of his mother, every street sign, every restaurant, the greenery and flowers, it all came back to his mom.

What he had explained to her as the Ultrabase wasn’t just some place that he was staying at, it was a literal industrial modern masterpiece of a mansion. The sleek design ebbed and flowed into the molding of the island it resided on. Ceilings higher than a museum’s, she traced her finger along every surface trying to soak in the elitism of it all. He reclined himself on the ginormous couch, watching her observe the surroundings.

To him, she was the best feature of the homebase. Where most things were cold and stricken with a detrimental weight of his responsibility, she was like a beam of no expectations. She gave him the space to just exist without pressure. That and she was always fighting with his robot assistant MINA which also made each time returning back from fighting a little easier to endure.

“Listen MINA, I just think that you’d be more effective if you were pink, also can you pass me my pencil case.” She was sitting at the kitchen table, snacking on candy and working on an assignment from one of her professors on her Master’s Committee. MINA used an extended robot hand to fly over the pencil case that had been in her backpack.

“If I was pink, it would detract from my integrated design.” MINA floats around her head, observing her completed work thus far. “Your work is completely correct, why are you changing the grammatical structure?”

“For the love of the process MINA, for the love of the process.”

Kenji just ate another bite of his New York Strip, enjoying the free entertainment. When he finished his meal, he asked if she wanted to go out for an adventure.

Matching helmets, black and gold design with her wearing one of his extra leather jackets just in case. For safety he justified. The cool Tokyo air felt even colder as they rushed around the streets, lane splitting and cutting in between cars. The headphones had built in bluetooth so they were listening to a shared playlist they had made. Blending rap, RNB, pop, and EDM crafted the right ambiance needed for a late night drive.

In some ways, Tokyo was similar to LA. She reasoned that it might have been the lights to a certain degree, but here, the lights were brighter and bolder. Neon signs and air pollution were the common denominators between the two cities.

He takes a corner just a little too hard, and she instinctively tightens her arms around his waist, tucking her head a little closer to his shoulder.

They end up taking a break for a minute, pulling off the side of the road to grab some vending machine drinks. Tea for her, coffee for him.

That’s when his watch begins to blare red. She fidgets with the ring on her hand, she didn’t need to wear it around he told her, but the cool diamond gem had grown on her. Just as a precaution if the case workers came around to check on their ‘marriage’, that was the explanation she gave to him for why she always had her ring on. They never talked about why he always kept his on too, despite interviews asking and continuously pestering him about the ring. The baseball world had just concluded it was either a secret wife or for the style since he never gave an answer.

“I think you have to go do your whole superman thing.” She pointed at his watch that he was trying to ignore.

Kenji groaned a little, calling for a ride so she could get back to his place. MINA had already gotten to them by the time the watch had started to blare.

“Ken, it is time to mitigate the primary conflict in Shinjuku.” MINA did a bow with their robot body. She tried to throw a pebble at MINA to test for reaction time, that being said MINA caught the rock. She shrugged.

Back at the dungeon, also known as the Ultrabase much to her distaste for a name like that, she was surprised to see an elderly man with a crutch sitting on the couch in the central living room.

He was watching a big hologram screen, which now clearly looked like Kenji (in Ultraman form) fighting with a pink monster dragon thing. When he got a particularly nasty body slam she sucked in some air through her teeth.

“Ahh, hello strange girl in the Ultraman base.” He circled her for a moment, his crutch slowing down his assessment of her.

“Ahh, hi strange grandpa in the Ultraman base.” She waved, and the older gentleman introduced himself as Professor Sato.

“Kenji’s dad?” She checked.

“Yes, I’m his father.” She nods, getting a glass of water.

When Kenji gets back to the base, that’s when things get a little crazy. What was once a slimy egg turned into a cute komodo dragon mutant baby. She was all over the baby in an instant, trying to get to know it better.

“She’s adorable. I love her.” She was tapping the glass of the containment cylinder, cooing at the infant Kaiju. The baby seemed to respond positively, making little coos back and stomping around a little.

Kenji just folded his arms and took it all in. He was still trying to get rid of his dad, despite his father’s willingness to help out. He just couldn’t balance it all without Hayao’s help, he realized. Especially when Emi needed more assistance, and help avoiding the KDF’s insistent attacks. She loved Emi, despite the Kaiju having the ability to totally crush her, Emi reciprocated quickly to her. Considering the contrast in how long it took for Kenji to demonstrate that his Ultaman form and his regular self were the same through systematic desensitization.

They became a family, even if a family consisted of a pro-baseball player, his fake wife/best friend, an estranged but loving father, a Kaiju baby, and a robot assistant.

A learning curve consisted of a lot more mistakes and complaining, but at the end of it all, Kenji had to commit. He was Ultraman now. He needed to protect Tokyo. At least now he had a support system he could rely on. Slowly, changes occurred with him. Putting others before himself, really truly thinking about life and the value of other human beings. The catalyst was a Kaiju baby named Emi, especially the way that said Kaiju baby loved openly.

The misadventures of raising Emi were wild and laced with KDF fights, but in the end, Kenji and his dad were brought together by defending Kaiju in a unique way. The monsters weren’t intentionally villains, humans had just made them out to be like that. That’s life though, people defining and categorizing things into concepts and schemas that made sense to them.

That’s what his dad was doing when he and Emiko separated. Hayao was trying to find ways to open human eyes to the world and beauty of Kaiju. Living in tandem with them may not have been immediately possible but why shouldn’t it be ever given a chance? Professor Sato, his dad, wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, he was trying his best to make the world a little bit better. Forgiving a father who he once believed left him wasn’t an easy road, but it was a path that needed to be traveled.

Saying goodbye to Emi was rough, yet, the Kaiju Island was close enough to go and visit on occasion. Baseball was great, winning the championship and going into a post-season diffusement.

Yet, Kaiju still came and wreaked havoc, and Kenji still had to fight and protect Japan. Even if that meant coming back to the base bloodied and bruised. She was almost always there, wrapping his arms in white bandages and wiping off blood with towels. Running ice baths and making cold soba noodles.

Which is what she was doing at this moment, rinsing the noodles in ice water and stirring a sweet sauce for Kenji to pour over rather than dunk his noodles into.

He was resting a frozen water bottle on his shoulder, hoping it would numb the pain, the Kaiju just had to try and rip his good arm off didn’t it?

“Hey, can I come in? Got your soba.” She knocked on the bathroom door using her elbow, since both hands were carrying bowls of soba with sauce containers precariously resting on her lower palms.

“Yeah, I’m wearing swim trunks.”

“Good because I’m not ready to see you naked, like, ever.” She chuckled, but pulled a chair next to the ceramic tub, breaking her chopsticks and saying a quick itadakimasu. He copied her, immediately drowning his noodles in the sauce she set on the edge of the tub. She rolled her eyes at his action.

He laughed a little, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, “What, it tastes better like this.”

She hummed an affirmative sound, but her eyes glinted with an agree to disagree conclusion.

The noodles had been fully digested, but she was still there, dipping her fingers into the water and making small swirls. The frigid temperature makes her fingers feel detached from her body.

Kenji lowers himself in the tub for a moment, getting his hair wet. When he came back up, she was pushing his bangs away from his face, smiling. Her hand stayed in his hair, brushing the strands away from his face as they dropped droplets down the back of his neck and then into the tub again. The ice cubes bumped into each other, melting slowly but steadily.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, uttering a few words, “Hot tub?”

She nods and heads out of the bathroom to get a swimsuit on.

The pool on the second to bottom floor of the base had an attached hot tub. He turned on the low lights, leaving the space in a warm brown shade of yellow light. The glass wall gave an outlook over the city and the ocean that surrounded the base.

MINA zoomed into the pool area, “Shall I put on some smooth jazz Ken?”

“No. Do not do that.” Kenji waved off MINA with red stinging his ears. MINA states they were just trying to speed up the whole process, and quoted one of her favorite phrases adding an addendum of MINA’s understanding and AI learning, “For the love of the process, especially if it's about love.”

The hot tub was warm, not quite boiling, but warm. She rested her arms on the outside ledge of the tub, looking out through the window. Kenji came to her side and replicated how she was positioned, before remembering that his shoulder hurt and gave out a small sound of displeasure. She giggled a little, rubbing the back of his shoulder where there weren't any distinct injuries.

“You’ve changed a lot since we were in high school.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head so that it was on her crossed arms.

“That’s what happens with time.” He wants to ask why she brought up his self-improvement. But she cuts him off before any words settle in his mouth.

“Yeah, but you’ve made a lot of great changes. You’re actually friends with your teammates now. And you’ve taken on this whole responsibility for an entire country. You aren’t just Kenji Sato, you’re also Ken Sato, and Ultraman, and I like to think you’ve fully embraced your father again, and not to mention our friendship.” She looks up at the ceiling, “You’re like an actual adult now.”

“I’ve been an adult for way longer than you.”

“But not like this, like an actual responsible person. You can juggle everything now.”

She sniffles a little, “Which is why I can understand if you don’t want me to stay once I finish my program you know?”

Kenji grabs a hold of one of her hands, “What the hell? Why would you ever think I’d want to kick you out?”

She shrugs.

He continues, “I hate to say it, but I think you’re stuck with me. You know too much about my dark secrets.” She smirks in response to his teasing tone.

Kenji dives deeper into things he wished he would’ve said earlier.

“I mean, you already have the ring to prove it too.” Her mouth gapes open a little, raising an eyebrow.

It would be amiss to say that this wouldn’t alter everything, but it was time.

“I know that we’ve only ever been friends, but you need to know what I feel.”

“I think I already know.” She cups the side of his face, and he pulls her into him, and makes her face him. She’s sitting on the expanse of his thighs, and he looks up at her from how he’s leaning back onto the wall of the hot tub.

Wrapping arms around his neck, careful to not rest too much of her arm on his shoulder, she brings their noses to brush against each other.

“Mine now? Right? You’re mine now?” When she doesn’t respond he continues, “Pretty please? Mine?”

“I thought you said you never begged?” She grazes his lips with her own and he sighs with a light shudder in his chest.

“I’ll beg for this, for you.”

“Fair enough.”

He tightens his grip and pulls her flush to him. Angling his neck up and tilting his head, he kisses her. She smiles too much for it to be a proper kiss, but he keeps pressing against her mouth. When she stops smiling and starts responding with her own pressure of lips to lips, he has to suppress the hunger to bite her.

His tongue brushes against her bottom lip and she opens her mouth for him, he runs his tongue along the inner lining of her mouth before biting on the tip of her tongue when she tries to take her turn. He chuckles when she pulls back a little, nose crinkled and lips wet.

“C’mere.” He trails kisses down the side of her face, going to her neck and collarbones, glad that her swimsuit was low cut enough for him to graze the top of her chest, where the rise of her curves began. She just presses kisses to the top of his head while her hand tangles into the hair at his nape, twisting the locks into fake curls.

When their fingers were wrinkled from the water in the hot tub, they showered and curled up on his bed, watching a meaningless show.

“So, my thoughts are that we can just skip the dating thing and go straight to marriage since legally we already are.”

“My mom will kill me.”

“Good thing she loves me, just say we eloped.” He wraps his good arm around her and pulls her down to lay on the pillows. She snuggles into the silk blend pillow cases and murmurs a little, tired from a long day. He caresses the side of her face and rests his hand on her hip.

MINA flits around the base, erasing specific footage from the recordings in the pool room, for everyone’s benefit.

Kenji paced back and forth in the base, waiting for her to get back from babysitting Chiho, hoping that Ami’s date would end shockingly early for his benefit.

He’s still on the phone with her, “I don’t want to wait to see you.” He kicks a throw pillow that had fallen on the ground from the couch.

“Have patience, I’ll be back around one AM.”

“This is spousal abuse.”

“It really isn’t”

MINA chimed in and agreed with her, so she exclaimed and said that even a robot knows the truth that Kenji was just a little clingy.

“I think you should stop watching other people’s babies and come take care of your family. And by family, I mean me.”

“I know what you meant.”

He looks to the clock, three more hours of waiting would be excruciating. But at least she’d be back in time for him to wish her an extremely early happy anniversary with the new ring he got.

#ultraman #ultraman: rising #ultraman x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman rising #friends to lovers #slowburn #hot tubs play a role there somewhere #ken sato x reader #identity reveal #girl dad fr #best friends #best friends to lovers #pining #childhood friends to lovers #mutual pining #lilly's red string of fate

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