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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 2 months ago

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Period. | Sebastian Sallow x OC #16

Something I think gets overlooked a lot in coming-of-age fanfiction—especially with Hogwarts Legacy characters—is finding that balance between all the crazy, traumatic stuff they go through and the fact that they’re still just teenagers. Sure, their experiences might make them mature in some ways, but they’re still awkward, impulsive, and trying to figure themselves out.

This part of my Sebastian x OC story is all about that balance—showing how, even with all the drama and big stakes, Sebastian and the crew still have those moments where they’re just being teens.

And, in my never-ending mission to bring characters with different bodies into the spotlight, I also want to shake up the idea that male love interests have to be totally perfect. In my headcanon, as I'm sure is the case in most of yours, Sebastian is still strong and fit, but I think it’s important to show that guys can be swoon-worthy without having to look like they stepped out of a magazine.

Summary: Evangeline navigates an unexpectedly mortifying day in Hogsmeade after her period arrives at the worst possible moment, with Sebastian and Ominis offering their usual mix of teasing and support. As Sebastian attempts to "help" with an awkward but well-meaning curiosity about her predicament, Ominis ensures the chaos remains somewhat contained, all while the trio's signature banter keeps things lighthearted.

Words: 8,766

Tags: Hogsmeade Shenanigans, Awkward Conversations, Soft Sebastian Sallow, Protective Friends, Humor, Slow Burn, Coming of Age, Soft Moments, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love

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It had been a couple of weeks since her courtship with Lysander Clearwater had come to an abrupt, somewhat messy end. Though his words had left deep scars, Evangeline found herself feeling surprisingly... relaxed. The constant weight of expectations—of being perfectly poised, perfectly acceptable—had vanished, and in its place was a tentative sense of relief.

Without Lysander, she felt more herself. The absence of his polished but suffocating presence made room for laughter with her friends, for impromptu afternoons in the Undercroft with Sebastian and Ominis, for nights spent reading until her eyes drooped without worrying about fitting a “future Lady Clearwater” mold.

That didn’t mean the sting of his words had entirely faded. Late at night, when the castle was quiet, her mind still replayed them in painful detail. But during the day, she was beginning to rediscover parts of herself she’d nearly forgotten—parts that didn’t need to meet anyone’s expectations but her own.

She wrapped Sebastian's scarf tighter around her neck as she waited by the castle gates, February snowflakes dusting her dark hair and settling on her shoulders. Hogsmeade weekends always held a certain charm, and today was no exception. The village would be bustling with students, the air filled with the scents of butterbeer and fresh-baked goods from Honeydukes.

Sebastian arrived first, his cheeks red from the cold, his signature grin lighting up his face. “Ready for the best day of your life?” he asked dramatically, bouncing slightly on his heels.

Evie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “You mean your best day. You’ve been planning to raid Honeydukes for weeks, haven’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, but the mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away. “It’s been at least a month.”

Ominis joined them a moment later, his expression caught somewhere between fond exasperation and mild annoyance. “I can already hear the sugar-high disaster waiting to happen,” he said, tilting his head toward Sebastian.

Sebastian smirked. “You say that like I haven’t been a disaster since day one, Ominis.”

Evangeline chuckled, falling into step between the two boys as they headed down the snowy path toward the village.

“So apparently," Ominis began as they walked, eager to share the gossip he’d overheard from his family. "The Clearwaters are so proud of Lysander,” he said, his tone dry. “They’re telling anyone who will listen that the choice to end the courtship was wise, that he’s ‘never been better.’”

Sebastian snorted, adjusting his scarf. “Never been better, huh? Is that why he’s been sulking around the library like someone kicked his prized Kneazle?”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow. “He has?”

“Evie, he's practically radiating misery,” Sebastian said, his grin sharpening. “I passed him yesterday, and he didn’t even manage his usual sneer at me. It was tragic, really.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched into a faint smile. “You’re awful.”

“Awful, but observant,” he countered, his grin widening.

Ominis sighed, shaking his head with a mock solemnity. “Sebastian thrives on the suffering of others. It’s how he keeps his skin so youthful.”

Evangeline laughed, the sound spilling out before she could stop it. She wasn’t sure if it was the fresh air or the company, but she felt better—lighter—than she had in weeks. Even the mention of Lysander didn’t sting as much as it might have. Maybe it was because Sebastian and Ominis made it so easy to focus on the here and now, on the ridiculous banter and comfortable familiarity they shared.

When they reached Hogsmeade, the streets were bustling with students and villagers alike. The shops glowed with warmth, their windows fogged from the heat inside, and the scent of freshly baked bread and butterbeer wafted through the crisp air.

“Alright,” Sebastian declared as they reached the main street, his tone imperious. “Priority number one: Honeydukes. I’m thinking at least two chocolate cauldrons, some fizzing whizzbees, and maybe—”

“Maybe,” Ominis interrupted, “you should show some restraint. I overheard you last week complaining to Eldon and Marcus about how hard it’s been to 'maintain your abs since Christmas.'”

Sebastian froze mid-step, his face twisting into an expression of utter betrayal. “You weren’t supposed to be listening to that.”

Ominis smirked, tilting his head as though deep in thought. “You do realize your bed is approximately ten feet from mine? It’s not eavesdropping if you’re loudly lamenting your fitness struggles in the middle of the dorm.”

“It was a private conversation!” Sebastian protested, his ears tinged pink as he glared at Ominis. “And for the record, I said I’ve adjusted my regimen since Christmas. You try doing broom drills for hours on end while Imelda shouts at you without a little chocolate to keep you sane.”

“Ah, yes,” Ominis said, his smirk widening. “Your tragic plight. A true hero’s burden.”

“Merlin, you’re insufferable,” Sebastian muttered, his ears tinged pink. “Evie, back me up here.”

But Evangeline was distracted, her mind stuck on an unwelcome tangent: Sebastian’s abs. And his chest. And his shoulders. And the freckles that might dust his skin from summers spent under the sun in Feldcroft. She was picturing it, clear as day: the golden-brown tone of his skin against the pale light, the way his back might shift and flex beneath his shirt. The thought hit her like a rogue bludger, and she nearly tripped over her own feet.

“Evie?” Sebastian’s voice pulled her back to reality, and she realized he was watching her with a faint frown, “You alright?”

She cleared her throat, willing the heat in her cheeks to fade. “Fine. Just, uh, the snow’s slippery.”

Ominis turned his head toward her, his lips quirking in a faint smirk. “Funny. You’re walking on cobblestone.”

Traitor. Evangeline shot him a glare he couldn’t see and quickened her pace, stepping slightly ahead of them. “Honeydukes it is, then,” she said, her voice slightly higher than usual. “Come on, before all the good stuff’s gone.”

Evangeline kept her eyes fixed firmly ahead as they entered the warmth of candy store, the cheerful jingle of the bell above the door marking their arrival. The smell of chocolate and sugar immediately wrapped around her like a comforting hug, but it did little to distract her from the thoughts swirling in her mind.

She busied herself scanning the shelves, her fingers brushing against jars of fizzing whizzbees and neatly wrapped chocolate frogs, but her thoughts refused to stay tethered to the present. Struggling to maintain them since Christmas, he’d said. Her mind drifted back to the time they’d spent in Feldcroft over the holiday—days filled with laughter, late-night chess in the warm glow of the fireplace, and, admittedly, a lot of indulgent food that had left her unbothered about calories for once. She wondered if he’d been the same.

She had noticed him, of course—how the heavy sweaters he wore settled snugly over his shoulders and chest, emphasizing the breadth of him. It had been impossible not to. But now, as she idly plucked at a jar of pear drops, she wondered: had the indulgence softened him a little? Had the sharp lines and angles the girls in their year whispered about blurred slightly over the holidays?

Her gaze hovered on a row of chocolates, though she wasn’t seeing them. Her thoughts now wandered deeper, straying to the whispers she’d heard among the girls in their year. They often spoke of Ominis, with his tall, lean frame, always carried an air of elegance. Garreth, a bit shorter, had a stocky, athletic build, easygoing in its solid strength. Then there was Leander—wiry and tall, all raw angles and restless energy. Sebastian, though… Sebastian’s frame was something else entirely: broad through the shoulders and chest, with a natural strength that seemed effortless.

The girls’ would giggle behind hands, whispering not-so-quietly about how chiseled he was, an almost intimidating sharpness to him that seemed just out of reach. Yet, as Evangeline paused in front of a shelf of shimmering sherbet lemons, she found herself wondering about the possibility of something softer.

Maybe after the holiday, the sharpness of his torso had blurred just slightly, the result of evenings spent without a care in the world, evenings spent with her. The thought surprised her, unexpected but oddly delightful. She could picture it now—Sebastian, still solid and dependable, but with an added warmth, a touch of softness that felt almost endearing.

Evangeline smiled faintly, a blush creeping across her cheeks. The idea of him letting go, of being unguarded and human, was disarming in its intimacy. It wasn’t just that it made him more approachable—it made him him, someone she wanted to know in every form, sharp lines or otherwise.

She realized, with a start, that she’d been standing still for far too long. Shaking her head, she reached for a bag of sherbet lemons and tried to steer her thoughts back to the present. But even as she moved to join the others, her mind kept circling back to him, to that damn comment, to the way she’d been picturing him more and more lately in ways that were... decidedly not friend-like.

“Find anything good?” Sebastian’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to find him standing a little too close, holding a stack of chocolate cauldrons and fizzing whizzbees. His grin was easy, but his proximity sent a jolt through her that she tried desperately to ignore.

“Just these,” she said, holding up the sherbet lemons like a shield.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sherbet lemons? A bold choice.”

“Bold?” she asked, tilting her head.

“They’re not exactly decadent,” he said, popping a chocolate into his mouth, “They’re what my uncle used to give me when I was sick.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes. “Well, I thought I'd give them a try.”

Sebastian’s grin widened, and for a moment, his dark eyes lingered on her in a way that made her heart stutter. “Fair enough,” he said, his voice lower now, almost teasing. “But I still think you’re missing out.”

She swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the heat radiating from him, of the faint scent of woodsmoke that still clung to his scarf. “I’ll manage.”

Before he could respond, Ominis appeared at her side, his wand held aloft as he spoke. “Sebastian, I trust you haven’t bought out the entire stock of cauldron cakes again?”

Sebastian groaned, rolling his eyes. “That was one time.”

“It was three,” Ominis corrected, his lips quirking in a faint smirk.

Evangeline took the opportunity to step back, grateful for the distraction. But as she watched them banter, her gaze drifted back to Sebastian’s profile, to the way his scarf framed his sharp jawline, to the warmth in his expression when he teased Ominis. And, annoyingly, to the thought of what he might look like without the scarf. Or the sweater. Or—

Ominis tilted his head slightly in her direction, breaking her spiraling thoughts. “Evie,” he called lightly, gesturing toward the counter with his free hand. “Come on, I’ll pay for your sweets. I still owe you for that butterbeer last week.”

His offer was like a splash of cold water, jolting her back to reality. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she protested, though her voice sounded a little too high-pitched, even to her own ears.

“Nonsense,” he replied, already heading toward the counter with his characteristic confidence. “Consider it payment for enduring Sebastian today.”

Evangeline huffed a small laugh, grateful for the reprieve from her wandering thoughts. She followed Ominis to the counter, her bag of sherbet lemons in hand. “Alright, but just this once,” she said. “Next time, I’m treating.”

“Whatever you say, Evangeline,” Ominis replied, his lips quirking into a faint smirk as he handed over a few coins to the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper handed back their purchases in neatly wrapped paper bags, and Evangeline clutched hers tightly, letting the familiar weight of sweets in her hands ground her. She shot Ominis a smile. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he said lightly, tucking his own bag under his arm.

Sebastian rejoined them, a mischievous grin on his face as he popped another sweet into his mouth. “So, what’s next? A butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, or should we let Ominis ruin my day some more by dragging us to Tomes and Scrolls?”

“I hardly think it’s ruining your day,” Ominis said, his tone dry. “Though I suppose it would be a tragedy to make you enter a shop that doesn’t revolve around your stomach.”

“Truly heartbreaking,” Sebastian deadpanned, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

Evangeline let their banter wash over her as they stepped out into the snowy streets of Hogsmeade once more, the brisk air nipping at their cheeks.

The trio set off down the snow-dusted streets. Around them, shoppers wrapped in thick cloaks shuffled in and out of stores, their arms laden with bags and parcels.

Evangeline walked slightly ahead, her boots clicking against the ground as she pulled her coat tighter against the cold. She glanced over her shoulder to find Sebastian stuffing another sweet into his mouth, a smug grin plastered on his face as Ominis gave him a withering look.

“Do you ever stop eating?” Ominis asked, his voice flat.

“No,” Sebastian replied breezily. “And really, Ominis, shouldn’t you be thanking me? Without me around, who would you have to complain about?”

Ominis’s lips twitched in what might have been the beginnings of a smirk, though his tone remained dry. “I’d manage, I assure you.”

Evangeline bit back a laugh as they passed Zonko’s, where a small crowd of students had gathered to gawk at the latest display of enchanted trick items. The cheerful jingling of bells from the joke shop’s door mingled with the muffled crunch of the snow beneath their feet.

The path to Tomes and Scrolls curved slightly, leading them away from the main thoroughfare and into a quieter side street. The shop’s warm glow spilled out onto the cobblestones, inviting them in. Frost clung to the edges of the windowpanes, framing displays of spellbooks and quills arranged in neat rows.

Sebastian groaned loudly as they neared the door. “Last chance to reconsider. There’s a perfectly good butterbeer waiting for us, and—”

“Oh shush Sebastian,” Ominis rolled his as they came to a stop by the door, "I do need some things in here. You two are welcome to join me, though I understand if you prefer to loiter outside.”

Evangeline groaned theatrically. “It's too dangerous in there for my budget,” she said, clutching her bag of sherbet lemons. “If I go in, I’ll come out with at least five books I don’t need and no money for butterbeer.”

Ominis smirked. “A wise decision."

Sebastian nudged her lightly with his elbow as Ominis slipped inside, his expression mischievous. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you company. Someone has to make sure you don’t slip on all this treacherous cobblestone again.”

She gave him a sidelong glance but didn’t protest, stepping to the side of the shop to wait. The snow continued to fall in soft flurries, dusting the cobblestones and the hem of her cloak. She leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped when Sebastian stepped closer.

He didn’t bother with personal space, not with her, and before she knew it, he'd slid behind her and his chin was resting comfortably on the top of her head. “So,” he began casually, his breath warm against the cold, “what about that book you had over Christmas? Did you ever finish it?”

Evangeline blinked, her cheeks immediately growing hot as the front cover of Intimacies and Affections: A Guide to Healthy Romances immediately came to mind. He couldn’t possibly be talking about that book. Could he? No. Surely not. Her thoughts raced as she tried to compose herself, though her heart hammered in her chest.

“Uh,” she stammered, forcing a smile that she hoped didn’t look as awkward as it felt. “What book are you talking about, exactly?”

Sebastian chuckled, and she could feel it reverberate through the slight pressure of his chin on her head. "You know the one I mean."

“Oh I—I didn’t even finish it.” she stammered, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably.

He hummed thoughtfully, “Pity,” he said lightly, “Could’ve been useful, you know. For research purposes.”

Evangeline groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Can we please talk about something else?”

“Why?” he asked, his voice brimming with faux innocence. “I think it’s fascinating. Maybe you can give me some tips—”

"Sebastian,” she warned, her tone shaky from equal parts mortification and amusement, “if you value your life, you’ll drop it.”

“So, what chapter were you on when you gave up?" He pressed on, "The one about expressing vulnerability? Or the one on, what was it—building trust through meaningful touch?”

Her face turned a shade of red she was sure rivaled the Gryffindor common room decor. “I didn’t give up,” she said quickly, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I just… didn’t finish it yet.”

His brows shot up, the glint in his eyes turning downright wicked. “Oh, so you’re still reading it?"

Evangeline groaned, letting her head thunk back against the wall. “Why do I even talk to you?”

“Because I’m endlessly charming and undeniably handsome,” he said without missing a beat, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “If by ‘charming’ you mean annoying, and by ‘handsome’ you mean infuriating, then sure.”

He laughed, the sound warm and rich enough to make her momentarily forget her embarrassment. “Evie, please. You’d be bored without me.”

“I’d be peaceful without you,” she shot back, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

Before Sebastian could fire off another quip, the door to the shop creaked open, and Ominis emerged, his wand held loosely at his side. “Are you two done embarrassing yourselves out here?” he asked dryly, tilting his head in their direction.

“Not even close,” Sebastian said cheerfully, though he stepped away from Evangeline, much to her relief—and, annoyingly, a flicker of disappointment she refused to acknowledge.

Ominis sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t even want to know.”

“You really don’t,” Evangeline muttered, shooting Sebastian a glare before pushing off the wall. “Let’s just go to The Three Broomsticks before he decides to test my patience any further.”

“Lead the way,” Ominis said, gesturing grandly with his free hand.

The walk started off as any other might, with the snowy streets of Hogsmeade bustling around them and the easy rhythm of Ominis and Sebastian’s chatter filling the air. Evangeline found herself smiling as she listened, letting their conversation flow over her like the familiar warmth of a well-worn cloak.

“Did you hear about Martin Groves?” Sebastian was saying, his tone practically dripping with glee. “Caught in an empty classroom with that Ravenclaw girl—what’s her name? Abigail?”

“Arabella,” Ominis corrected, his lips twitching in a way that suggested he was trying not to smirk. “And yes, the entire common room has already heard about it.”

Sebastian laughed, the sound echoing cheerfully in the crisp winter air. “Serves him right. He couldn’t have picked a worse spot, honestly. Fifth-floor classrooms? Everyone knows the portraits up there are nosy.”

“And loud,” Ominis added. “I’m sure it was the portrait of Lady Willoughby who tattled.”

Evangeline chuckled along, their gossip as entertaining as ever. She felt light, almost carefree, despite the wintry chill settling in her bones.

But then came the familiar, unwelcome twinge in her lower abdomen. At first, it was easy to ignore—a dull ache she brushed off as nothing more than a result of the cold weather or perhaps lingering soreness from their last Quidditch practice. She rolled her shoulders and shifted her weight slightly, willing the discomfort to ease as they turned down another street.

Sebastian’s voice, vibrant and teasing, pulled her back into the moment. “Honestly, Groves should’ve just stuck to the Quidditch pitch broom shed like a proper Hufflepuff. At least it’s private!”

Evangeline managed a small smile at the comment, but the ache began to shift—sharper now, more insistent. Each step against the uneven street seemed to jostle something inside her, sending small waves of pain that were harder to brush off. She instinctively tugged her coat tighter again, as though the gesture could stave off the sudden unease settling in her gut.

She forced herself to focus on the way Ominis gestured with his wand, pointing out some minor detail of their gossip as Sebastian chimed in, his grin visible even from her angle. For a fleeting moment, she clung to their energy, trying to match the lighthearted pace of their walk.

But the ache sharpened again, this time almost like a stab, forcing her to falter ever so slightly. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to suppress the grimace threatening to form and adjusted her stride to mask her discomfort.

“Evie, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Sebastian called, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed, not with suspicion but with curiosity. “Usually, you’re the first to mock me.”

She forced a laugh, waving him off. “Just trying to keep up with you two and avoid slipping. Unlike you, I don’t have years of experience skating through life on charm alone.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but the grin that followed was warm. Ominis, however, tilted his head slightly in her direction, as though he was searching for something unsaid in her voice.

She quickened her pace to draw level with them, but the realization of her situation was insistent She knew this pain, this feeling—it wasn’t new. It was unwelcome, inconvenient, and entirely impossible to ignore.

Her period.

Of course, it had to come now.

Her stomach tightened in betrayal, one hand brushing against her abdomen as though that might somehow stave off the inevitable. It had been coming—she should have known. The signs had been there for the past week, subtle but unmistakable, but she’d just been too distracted by the prospect of a day in Hogsmeade with her friends to think about it properly.

Panic started to bubble up as the reality of her predicament set in. She wasn’t just unprepared; she was woefully, catastrophically unprepared. No potions for the pain, no extra layers to cover up, nothing remotely useful in her bag to manage the situation. And, of course, she’d decided to wear trousers today—a snug, flattering pair that she had been so pleased with that morning. There would be no hiding under the forgiving folds of a skirt or cloak.

Her eyes darted to Sebastian and Ominis, who were still deep in conversation. Sebastian was gesturing wildly, his face lit with mock outrage as he recounted what sounded like another one of Garreth’s failed potions.

She pressed her lips together, clutching her bag of sherbet lemons tighter as though that might ground her. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Maybe they'd make it to The Three Broomsticks and she could excuse herself to the restroom to figure something out. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than letting them realize what was happening.

“Evie?” Sebastian’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. “Are you even listening? I said Leander ended up with his eyebrows singed off and—”

“I'm fine!” she blurted, her voice pitched slightly higher than she intended. Both boys turned to look at her, Ominis tilting his head in that way he did when something seemed off.

“You’re fine?” Sebastian repeated, his brows furrowing.

She waved a hand, willing her face to stay neutral. “Sorry, I just—uh, distracted. Cold weather and all that.”

Sebastian’s frown deepened, and his eyes flicked over her, searching for something while Ominis raised an eyebrow. “Your voice is tight. Are you in pain?”

Of course, he had to notice that. She tried to laugh it off, though it came out more like a wheeze. “No, no. Just—cold, you know? Chilly air, cobblestones, all very inconvenient.”

Evangeline gritted her teeth, desperately hoping they’d drop it. But as they continued walking, her discomfort must have shown on her face, because Ominis slowed his pace to fall into step beside her.

“Do you need to sit down?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with concern.

“No, no, really I'm okay,” she said, her cheeks flaming. “It’s nothing."

But then, she felt it. A telltale dampness that made her heart plummet into her stomach.

Oh no. No, no, no.

She froze mid-step as she tried to calculate how bad the damage was, whether it might already be visible, whether there was anything—anything—she could do to salvage the situation.

“Evie, seriously,” Sebastian probed as they came to a stop, his tone softening. “What’s wrong?”

Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. How could she explain this without dying of mortification? She glanced at Ominis, who was frowning slightly as if trying to piece together her silence.

Sebastian’s expression darkened with concern. “Evie, you’re scaring me. Is it—are you hurt?”

She shook her head rapidly, her face blazing. “No, no,” she reassured him, her voice shaking. “I just—uh, I forgot something.”

“Forgot what?” Sebastian asked, his confusion deepening.

“My… um…” she stammered, wincing at how unconvincing she sounded. "Just um. A girl... thing."

Ominis, bless him, seemed to understand immediately. “Ah,” he said again, nodding slightly. "I see."

Sebastian, on the other hand, blinked at her like she’d just spoken in Parseltongue. “Girl... thing?” he repeated, his tone equal parts confusion and trepidation.

“Yes,” she snapped, her embarrassment making her tone sharper than intended. “Just… can we move on?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, likely to make some infuriating comment, but Ominis placed a firm hand on his arm. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and serious. For once, Sebastian listened, though his eyes flicked nervously to Evangeline.

“Take her to Gladrags." Ominis said firmly, reaching for the bag of treats clutched in Sebastian's hands, "Find her something to, er… tie around her waist or cover her back. A scarf, a cloak, anything. And walk behind her on the way there."

Sebastian blinked, “You want me to—”

“Just shut up and do it,” Ominis said, cutting him off. “I’ll meet you at The Three Broomsticks.”

Sebastian turned to Evangeline, “Okay,” he said slowly. “Let’s—uh, let's go?”

Evangeline could feel her face burning as Sebastian gently placed a hand on her elbow, steering her toward Gladrags as he walked behind her.

“This way,” Sebastian murmured, his tone unusually soft.

She kept her gaze firmly fixed on the snowy cobblestones, every step making her hyper-aware of the unwelcome sensation that had set her entire day on edge. Her mind raced with mortifying thoughts about what Sebastian must think, how much worse this could get, and whether she might actually drop dead of embarrassment before they reached the shop.

As they neared Gladrags, Sebastian finally broke the silence. “So,” he said, his voice pitched just above a whisper, “when you say ‘girl thing’... do you mean, uh…”

Evangeline groaned inwardly, wishing she could evaporate into the snowy air. Of all the scenarios she’d imagined for her day, this had to be the most humiliating.

“I mean—do I really have to spell it out?” she muttered under her breath, her voice tight with both pain and embarrassment. She didn’t dare turn to face him, keeping her eyes locked on the path ahead.

Sebastian, to his credit, cleared his throat and attempted to tread carefully. “No, no, I get it now,” he said quickly, though his voice betrayed his obvious discomfort. “It’s just, uh, I’ve never exactly dealt with this before... But it’s fine! Totally fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Evangeline wanted to die on the spot. If the snow-covered street could open up and swallow her whole, she would’ve gladly let it. Instead, she tightened her grip on her bag, keeping her focus ahead as they neared Gladrags. Her cheeks were blazing, and the ache in her abdomen wasn’t helping her focus.

Sebastian trailed a few steps behind her, clearly trying to follow Ominis’s instructions to the letter. She could feel his presence, hear the crunch of his boots, and it only added to her mortification. Please, for the love of God, don't look at my ass.

When they reached the shop, he held the door open for her, his expression carefully neutral. “After you,” he mumbled, avoiding her gaze as though the entire situation might collapse if he made eye contact.

The warmth of Gladrags was a welcome change from the biting cold outside, but Evangeline hardly noticed it. She hovered near the entrance, unsure of what to do next. How was she supposed to handle this? What could she even ask for?

“Alright,” Sebastian said under his breath, scanning the racks. “Something to cover up with. Easy enough.”

Evangeline hovered awkwardly near the entrance, her hands twisting nervously. “You really don’t have to—”

“Evie,” he interrupted, turning to her with a look that was somehow both exasperated and reassuring. “I’ve got this. Just… go browse while I figure it out, okay?”

She nodded mutely, grateful for the chance to disappear into the racks of clothing while Sebastian took charge. She didn’t even care what he found, as long as it worked. The sound of hangers scraping against racks and Sebastian muttering to himself filled the air as she tried—and failed—to distract herself by examining a display of enchanted gloves.

“Got it,” Sebastian called after a few minutes, his voice a touch triumphant. She turned to see him holding up a deep burgundy cardigan with gold accents, clearly designed to match a Gryffindor uniform.

Evangeline blinked at the cardigan, a mixture of relief and mortification swirling in her chest. “That’ll work,” she said quickly. The sooner this was over, the better.

Sebastian grinned, holding it up like it was some grand trophy. “See? Told you I’d handle it. Stylish and functional.”

“Functional is all I care about right now,” she muttered, her cheeks still burning as she took it from him. She glanced around, realizing she couldn’t exactly tie it around her waist in the middle of the shop without drawing attention. “Can we just… pay and go?”

“On it.” Sebastian strolled to the counter and the shopkeeper, a kind-looking witch with silver-streaked hair, smiled warmly at them as she rang up the purchase.

“Lovely choice,” she said, folding the cardigan neatly. “Would you like it wrapped, or are you planning to wear it right away?”

Evangeline froze, her mortification threatening to boil over. “Uh—”

“Right away,” Sebastian cut in smoothly, flashing the shopkeeper a charming smile. “It’s a bit chilly outside.”

The witch nodded knowingly, handing over the cardigan as Sebastian slid a few coins across the counter. “You two enjoy your day, then,” she said, her smile lingering as they turned to leave.

Once they were back outside, Evangeline wasted no time. She ducked into a quiet alcove beside the shop, clutching the cardigan tightly. “Okay, just… stand guard or something,” she muttered, avoiding Sebastian’s gaze as she shrugged off her coat.

Sebastian obediently turned his back, though she could hear the faintest hint of amusement in his voice as he said, “You know, this is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened all day.”

“You’re not helping,” she snapped, fumbling with the sleeves of the cardigan and pulling at the back hem to make sure it covered everything.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender even though he wasn’t looking at her. “No jokes. Totally serious. Silent as a grave.”

She let out a frustrated sigh but didn’t respond, focusing on pulling her coat back on. Once satisfied, she stepped out of the alcove. “Okay. Done.”

Sebastian turned, his grin softening when he saw her. “Looks good,” he said simply, his voice free of teasing.

Evangeline hesitated, biting her lip as her gaze darted to the snowy cobblestones beneath her boots. Her face felt like it was on fire, and the ache in her abdomen only made her more aware of how vulnerable she felt. “Can you, um…” she started, her voice coming out strained. She coughed and tried again. “Can you just… make sure it, you know, covers everything?”

Sebastian blinked, his expression shifting into something more serious. “Yeah, of course,” he said quickly, his voice steady. As she turned around, he stepped closer, eyes flicking over her with a quiet focus that made her heart beat faster.

“It’s fine,” he said after a moment, his voice reassuring. “Nothing’s showing. You’re all good.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed, her cheeks still burning.

Sebastian stopped in front of her again, meeting her gaze. “I’m sure,” he said firmly, his brow furrowed slightly. “You’re fine, Evie. I wouldn’t let you walk out here if you weren’t.”

The sincerity in his tone made her stomach twist—not from pain this time, but from the way he was looking at her, like this whole ordeal was nothing at all, like it didn’t bother him in the slightest. It was infuriatingly kind of him, and somehow that only made her more embarrassed.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, clutching her coat tighter around her. She paused, shoving her hands in her pockets, "Did you... was it bad? Before, I mean."

Sebastian tilted his head, his expression softening even more. “Bad?” he echoed, his voice quieter now. “No, it wasn’t bad. Hardly noticeable, honestly.”

Evangeline exhaled a shaky breath, unsure if she should be reassured or not, because while she was glad nobody else had noticed, the fact that Sebastian had still made her want to disappear into the snow. It was mortifying, the kind of thing she’d never live down in her own mind, even if he seemed determined not to make it a big deal.

Her cheeks burned, and she couldn’t meet his gaze. “Still,” she muttered, shoving her hands deeper into her coat pockets. “You noticed. That’s… humiliating enough.”

Sebastian frowned slightly, tilting his head as if trying to figure out what to say. Then, his voice softened, losing its usual teasing edge. “Evie, come on. You’re acting like you sprouted antlers or something. It’s not a big deal—I promise.”

Her stomach twisted again, this time not from pain but from the gentle, almost protective way he said it. How was he being so calm about this? She wanted to snap at him, laugh it off, something, but instead, she just mumbled, “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who—who—”

“Had an awkward moment,” Sebastian finished for her, his tone light but not mocking. “Sure. But who hasn’t? Everyone has bad days, Evie. This just happens to be yours. And, for what it’s worth, nobody else noticed a thing. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

She risked a glance up at him, biting the inside of her cheek. “You’re really not going to hold this over my head?”

He grinned then, but it wasn’t his usual sly expression. It was softer, almost conspiratorial. “Tempting, but no. I think I’ve used up my teasing allowance for the day. Besides…” He shrugged, hands shoved into his pockets. “I’d rather make sure you’re okay than win a point in our banter war.”

Evangeline blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected sincerity in his words. She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just nodded, feeling the tension in her chest ease slightly.

“Now let’s get going before Ominis sends out a search party,” Sebastian said, his grin widening back into familiar territory. “You know he’ll assume the worst if we’re too late.”

"Can we swing by the potions shop first?" Evangeline asked, her voice still edged with embarrassment. She felt marginally more human now that she wasn’t completely panicking, but the dull ache in her abdomen was becoming harder to ignore.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Potions shop? Sure. You need something specific?”

“Yes,” she replied hesitantly as began walking in the direction of J. Pippin's, already dreading the inevitable follow-up question.

“What are you looking for? Pepperup? Wiggenweld?”

She hesitated, her fingers tightening on her sleeves before muttering, “Menstrual Elixir.”

Sebastian stopped mid-step, turning to look at her with a puzzled expression. “Never heard of it. What’s it for?”

Her cheeks flared crimson, and she shot him a withering look. “Take a wild guess, genius.”

His brow furrowed as he genuinely seemed to consider it. Then, realization dawned, and his eyes widened slightly. “Oh.”

Sebastian quickly fell into step beside her, clearly fighting the urge to comment further. His silence lasted all of ten seconds. “So… cramps, then? Is it that bad?”

Evangeline shot Sebastian a glare as they walked, the heat in her cheeks persisting. He held up his hands defensively. “Alright, alright. Sorry.” He paused for a moment, his expression unreadable, before glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s just… I should probably know more about this kind of thing.”

She blinked, her annoyance faltering as she glanced at him. “What?”

Sebastian shrugged, his hands jammed into his coat pockets. “I mean, Anne never really… talked to me about this sort of thing. I guess I just assumed it was handled.” His voice softened, and his gaze flickered down to the cobblestones. “And now, well, we don’t exactly have the chance to talk about anything.”

Evangeline’s irritation ebbed, replaced by a pang of sympathy. She knew how much Anne’s absence weighed on him, even if he didn’t talk about it often. “It’s not like it’s your fault she didn’t bring it up,” she said gently. “It’s not exactly a fun topic to share, even with family.”

“I suppose.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Still, I never thought about it, you know? I just—I should probably be better at this. My best friend is a girl. I guess just I never really thought about you… like that.”

She blinked, the meaning of his words taking a moment to settle. “Like what?”

“Like…” He exhaled sharply, searching for the right words. “Like a normal girl.”

Her steps faltered, her heart skipping a beat. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sebastian winced, realizing how his words must have sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, his eyes meeting hers with something close to panic. “I just meant… you’re not like anyone else. I don’t… think of you the way I do other girls. You’re just… you.”

Evangeline slowed her pace, “I’m just… me?” she echoed, her voice softer now, unsure if she should feel insulted, flattered, or something in between.

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, his expression equal parts frustration and desperation, like he was trying to navigate a conversation far more delicate than he’d intended. “You’re just… different.”

“Different,” she repeated, still trying to pin down the meaning behind his words. “That’s either a compliment or a very backhanded insult.”

“It’s a compliment,” he said quickly, his tone firm. Then huffed a small laugh, though it was tinged with self-deprecation. “Merlin, I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?”

“A bit,” she admitted, though her lips curved into a faint smile.

Sebastian sighed, his shoulders slumping as he shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets. “I swear, I’m trying to say something nice, but it’s coming out—”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twitching upward despite herself. “Like a disaster?”

“Exactly,” he said, his voice dry but laced with a hint of humor. He glanced at her again, his expression softening. “What I’m trying to say is… I guess I don’t always think about the, uh, normal things you might deal with, because you’re just… you’ve been through so much, and you always handle it.”

Her chest tightened, warmth blooming alongside the ever-present ache in her abdomen. They walked in silence for a moment, the bustling noise of Hogsmeade around them somehow fading into the background.

Evangeline watched him out of the corner of her eye, noticing the way his shoulders seemed to relax slightly now that she wasn’t glaring at him. “So…" She began, breaking the silence, "What do you know?”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed, and he gave her a sidelong glance. “What do I know about what?”

“I mean,” she said, her tone edging toward teasing, “you said Anne didn’t really talk to you about this, so what do you actually know? About... periods.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t seem offended. “I’m not a complete idiot, Evie. I know what the menstrual cycle is. I’ve had some education. It’s just… all the other stuff that comes with it? No idea. I mean, I get cramps are a thing, and it’s inconvenient as hell, but…” He trailed off, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t really know how I’m supposed to be… helpful.”

The genuine effort in his tone caught her off guard, and, despite herself, she smiled. “Well, for starters, not being a git about it is helpful.”

“Good to know,” he muttered, though his lips twitched into a faint smile.

“And,” she added, unable to resist, “if you need to know more about the female reproductive system, I’d strongly suggest you pick up a book or two.”

Sebastian stopped in his tracks, turning to give her an incredulous look. “Oh, come on. I’m not that clueless about how things work.”

Evangeline grinned, the tension in her chest finally easing. “I don’t know, Sebastian. I might have to recommend a book for you. It’s very informative. Covers all sorts of things—" She watched his expression twist between confusion and realization.

His face went bright red. “You wouldn’t.”

"Intimacies and Affections: A Guide to Healthy Romances is a very useful book," she teased, her grin widening.

Sebastian groaned, running a hand down his face as he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “For fuck's sake..."

Evangeline laughed at the sound of the muggle curse leaving his lips, and for a moment, it felt like the earlier tension had never existed. “Oh, come on,” she said, nudging his arm with her elbow. “You walked right into that one.”

“I didn’t walk,” he grumbled. “I tripped and fell headfirst into it."

As they walked, Sebastian shook his head, muttering under his breath about “evil Gryffindors” while Evangeline wore a triumphant grin. The ache in her abdomen still lingered, but teasing Sebastian was a surprisingly effective distraction.

When they reached the potions shop, the warm, herb-scented air hit them as they stepped inside. Evangeline quickly made her way to the counter, where the shopkeeper, a wizened wizard with sharp spectacles, simply nodded at her request for the Menstrual Elixir.

“Ah, yes,” he said, bustling about behind the counter. “A classic choice. Quick-acting, but I recommend drinking plenty of water afterward.”

“Thanks,” Evangeline said, dropping a few coins onto the counter. She accepted the small vial of potion, its liquid shimmering faintly in the light, and turned to Sebastian, who had wandered toward a shelf of bright blue potions labeled Wit-Sharpening Elixir.

“Ready?” she called.

As they stepped back outside, the cold bit at her cheeks, but she ignored it, uncorking the vial and downing its contents in one go. The potion was bitter, with a faint minty aftertaste, but the warmth that spread through her belly was an instant relief. She let out a soft sigh, already feeling the sharp edges of her cramps dulling.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his tone light but with an undertone of genuine concern.

“Much,” she replied, slipping the empty bottle into her coat pocket.

Sebastian fell into step beside her again, “So,” he began, clearly treading cautiously, “now that you’ve taken care of the pain… what are you gonna do to, you know… stop the bleeding?”

Evangeline nearly choked on the air she was breathing. She stopped walking, whipping around to stare at him.

“What?” he asked, his tone genuinely baffled, though his lips twitched in what she could tell was an attempt to suppress a grin. “I’m just asking. I mean, I know there’s… stuff for that, but I don’t know the logistics.”

Evangeline groaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment before letting them fall to her sides. “Why are you like this?” she muttered.

“I’m curious!” he said, throwing up his hands.

She bit her lip, torn between the urge to die of mortification and the reluctant need to answer his clearly genuine, if insufferably curious, question. Finally, she sighed, lowering her voice to a mutter. “Fine. But if you ever bring this up again, I’ll hex you.”

Sebastian raised his hands in surrender, but his grin only widened as she glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot. Leaning slightly closer, she said, “They’ve been working on a charm for it for decades, but it’s still not perfected. Causes… odd side effects. Like spontaneous nosebleeds and red hair. So, for now, it’s all handled with products. Luckily, the wizarding world is way ahead of the Muggle world on this, so my life has improved dramatically since coming to Hogwarts.”

"What... did you do when you still lived as a muggle?"

"We used old cloths," she said bluntly, her voice flat as she avoided his gaze. Evangeline could feel her face turning an even deeper shade of red, but there was no point sugarcoating it. “It was messy. Thankfully, the wizarding world has products that you... put inside, instead. And they're charmed to vanish."

Sebastian nodded slowly, his expression caught somewhere between understanding and bewilderment. “Right… I do know about those. Tampons. I'm shocked that the muggle world hasn't caught up to that yet,” Sebastian finished, shaking his head slightly.

Evangeline huffed a laugh, "It's considered... inappropriate. Quite taboo. The muggle world is too concerned with a woman's virginity."

Sebastian blinked, his brows shooting up in disbelief. “Virginity?” he repeated, his voice low but incredulous as they neared the warmly lit windows of The Three Broomsticks. "It's for soaking up blood!"

Evangeline nodded, her cheeks still tinged pink but her tone matter-of-fact. “There’s this ridiculous stigma about anything that, you know…” She gestured vaguely, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Goes inside.”

Sebastian shook his head, a mix of outrage and disbelief etched on his face. “That’s absurd. So, they’re fine with making women suffer just to cling to some archaic nonsense? Bloody hell, I’ll never complain about wizarding traditions again.”

“Don’t get too smug,” she shot back, though her lips quirked into a faint smile. “The wizarding world has its own share of ridiculous rules.”

“Yeah, but at least we’ve got tampons,” he muttered as he held the door open for her, his expression still set in a mix of indignation and disbelief. “I swear, Muggles make no sense sometimes."

The warm, bustling atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks greeted them instantly, the scent of butterbeer and roasted food wrapping around them like a cozy blanket. Evangeline glanced around, spotting Ominis almost immediately. He was seated at their usual corner table, his wand resting lightly on the surface as he traced it idly along the grain of the wood.

“Finally,” Ominis said dryly as they approached, not bothering to look up. “I was starting to think you’d decided to elope.”

“Elope?” Evangeline and Sebastian said in unison, their voices a mix of indignation and embarrassment.

Sebastian sputtered first. “What? Why would you even—”

“Merlin, Ominis, don’t be ridiculous!” Evangeline cut him off, her cheeks turning scarlet. She quickly slid into the seat across from him, avoiding both their gazes. “That’s the last thing—”

“You’re both awfully defensive,” Ominis interjected smoothly, the faintest smirk playing at his lips as he picked up his wand. “Relax, it was a joke."

Sebastian flopped into the chair beside her, crossing his arms with a dramatic huff. “You’ve got a twisted sense of humor, you know that?”

Ominis tilted his head toward Sebastian, his expression as calm as ever. “Oh, I do. Now, care to explain what kept you? I can’t imagine why a quick trip to Gladrags would take so long."

Evangeline groaned, burying her face in her hands while Sebastian leaned forward with a smirk, "Just needed to ask our dear friend a few questions."

Ominis raised a curious eyebrow, his smirk growing more pronounced. “Questions?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but Evangeline shot him a glare that promised a thousand hexes. “Don’t,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous. Turning back to Ominis, she added, "Our dear friend Sebastian is ill-informed about the ways of womanhood, it seems."

Ominis’s smirk widened, and he leaned forward slightly, clearly savoring the moment. “Ill-informed, you say?” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement. “That’s rather shocking, given how Sebastian likes to act as though he knows everything. One might think he’s not quite as experienced as his late-night outings suggest.”

Sebastian straightened in his chair, his smirk faltering. “Excuse me?” he said, his tone defensive. “I am very experienced, thank you.”

Evangeline snorted into her butterbeer, her earlier mortification giving way to reluctant amusement. “Clearly not that experienced if you had to ask me a million questions about something half the population deals with regularly.”

Sebastian sputtered, glaring at her. “It’s not like they teach us about that in class! And sorry if I wanted to be a little better informed. You should be grateful for my curiosity.”

“Grateful?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “For what? The opportunity to have the single most mortifying conversation of my life?”

Ominis chuckled softly, tilting his head toward Sebastian. "Perhaps you should reconsider your qualifications before your next trip to a broom closet. After all, how can one be trusted to navigate… certain situations if they don’t even understand the basics?”

Sebastian’s ears turned pink, and he pointed a finger at Ominis, his voice indignant. “For your information, I’m more than capable of handling—”

Ominis raised an eyebrow as he interjected, “And yet, you seemed rather uninformed just moments ago.”

“That’s different!” Sebastian shot back, his cheeks now noticeably pink. “I mean… it’s not like… I don’t need to know that kind of stuff when—” He stopped abruptly, realizing he was digging himself deeper.

“Ah, so the excuses begin,” Ominis said smoothly, his smirk practically oozing with amusement. “Do tell, Sebastian. Should we expect some enlightening stories of your expertise to prove your point?”

Evangeline shifted in her seat, her face heating for an entirely different reason now. She grabbed her mug of butterbeer, sipping it quickly to mask the sudden tightness in her chest. She didn’t want to think about Sebastian’s so-called expertise. The idea of him with other girls, in broom closets or otherwise, made her stomach churn.

Sebastian scoffed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I don’t need to prove anything. I’m perfectly confident in my… abilities.”

“Clearly,” Ominis said dryly.

Evangeline set her mug down with a thunk, her patience wearing thin as she cut into their bickering. “Alright, boys, that’s enough,” she said, her tone sharp but edged with amusement. “Sebastian, you’re not exactly doing yourself any favors here. And Ominis, stop encouraging him.”

Ominis turned his smirk toward her, tilting his head as if to feign innocence. “I’m merely pointing out the obvious. Someone needs to keep our dear friend humble.”

Sebastian glared at Ominis but then turned his gaze to Evangeline. “Fine, let’s all gang up on me. I see how it is.”

��Oh, don’t be such a martyr,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “You brought this on yourself. Now can we please just enjoy our butterbeers like normal people?”

Sebastian and Ominis exchanged glances before Sebastian finally leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Fine. Truce?”

“Truce,” Ominis agreed, though his smirk lingered.

Evangeline sighed, taking another sip of her butterbeer. “Thank you. Now, let’s talk about literally anything else.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning closer to her. “Anything else, huh? Alright, Evie—if not enlightening conversations about biology, then tell us this: which one of us is your favorite?”

Ominis rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. We all know the answer to that. It’s me.”

Sebastian gasped in mock offense. “What? Evie, tell him that’s not true!”

Evangeline snorted, shaking her head. “You’re both my favorites—when you’re not acting like complete idiots.”

“Sounds like a pity answer,” Ominis said with a smirk, taking a sip from his mug.

“Agreed,” Sebastian added, though his grin was infectious. “Guess we’ll have to keep competing for the title.”

Evangeline laughed despite herself, the earlier tension finally melting away as the three of them settled into their usual rhythm of banter and teasing. No matter how mortifying the day had been, moments like this made it all worth it.

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alienaiver · 2 years ago

Text

Tales of Meet Cutes

Kozume Kenma x gn!reader

warnings: this is pretty fluffy! while reader is gender neutral, they are cosplaying male characters and are being described wearing makeup, so beware if thats not ur thing! :’) wordcount: 4.4k content: FLUFF, genderneutral reader, poc!friendly reader, canon compliant, post-timeskip, meet cute, kenma FALLS IN LOVE... HARD!, cosplayer!reader meeting kenma at a convention basically, kuroo’s the worst wingman but he swings it anyway!, kenmas a bit awkward but hes got the spirit, weirdly enough became an advertisement for the tales of games..., unbeta’d bcos i am sobbing about my con, reader cosplays mikleo from tales of zestiria and jack vessalius from pandora hearts! heres mikleo and heres jack (theres no switch release of zestiria this is just me dreaming btw </3)

notes: hihey!!! i was at a convention this weekend and have been ruDELY STRUCK by the post-con depression and its... its GIVING ME feelings. so i wrote this. im aware that conventions in japan are usually simply called ‘events’ and not cons like in the west but it felt sO UNSPECIFIC so ye. i actually do Not know what bouncing ball corp DOES... so im playing around. this is all based off of my own convention experiences but theyre obviously very local to my country so idk how it is in others <33333333 i hope u enjoy AWKWARD KENMA who stutters <3

It’s Friday afternoon and Kenma’s plugging the Nintendo Switch’s HDMI into the television’s port that the convention provided for their booth. Kuroo’s humming by their table as he places the flyers nice and orderly next to the game cases. Kenma turns to his friend, “you didn’t have to do this.” he says, flustered that Kuroo had to take a weekend off for him. Kuroo smiles, “’course I didn’t have to,” he looks knowingly at Kenma who bites his lip and stares pointedly at the floor, “but I wanted to. It’s a free convention, a weekend with my best friend plus, you’re paying me.”

It's true, Kenma has agreed to pay all of Kuroo’s meals this weekend no matter what he wanted – he knows Kuroo will seize the opportunity and ask for food he’s normally too cheap to buy himself, but Kenma’s happy to indulge.

Bouncing Ball Corp has for many years sponsored a big part of Tokyo Expo’s Game Room. It was one of the first places that properly introduced Kenma to streaming so it’s become like a silent thank you to them. The community is nice too and he knows a lot of his fans come here. For just as many years that he’s been a sponsor, they’ve tried to get him to have a booth or maybe even a panel but he’s been dodging them successfully every year. The attention seems like it’d be too much for him to handle for a whole weekend so he’s always declined and showed up stealth as a regular convention guest and enjoyed the Game Room. He was almost found out once because he beat a high score on the big center screen in front of an audience. He’s never ducked out so fast of anything in his life.

But this year’s dodging and parrying proved unsuccessful due to circumstances out of his power. You’d think running your own company would make situations like these impossible but alas. Kenma has been playing the Tales Of game series on his channel since the early beginning and after the third game, Bandai Namco reached out and they made a rather fruitful arrangement that’s served both of them well. Now, they’re releasing an anniversary Nintendo Switch release of Tales of Zestiria and wanted Kenma at the convention, advertising. He was put between a rock and a hard place when the game company reached out to the convention on his behalf – he knows they did it on purpose to render any of his moves ineffective.

So here he is, plugging the television into the massive outlet that runs through the room to accommodate every booth and game (is this even fire safety regulated?) with Kuroo by his side. One of the volunteers, a Gopher, has already stopped by multiple times to offer their assistance in setting up. Kenma thinks they might be a fan because the Game Room’s volunteer-leader has already been by upon their arrival and walked through whatever they might need from the convention and what they’ve brought themselves to the booth with him.

There’s usually not a lot of booths in the Game Room, traditionally focusing more on just having a lot of platforms and screens available with games ready to be played by the guests but it’s not uncommon to see a company or two advertise for something. At the far end, Kenma knows an indie-game developer is going to be. She’s also going to host a panel on how to make your own games and where to start. He’d like to stop by for that out of curiosity. There’s also a booth from a school where you can become a game designer who advertises for their education and tells people of the way you’ll have to go to reach that.

And then Kenma’s. He certainly feels out of place as he sets up the brand-new Switch with only one game inserted provided by Bandai Namco. He originally connects it to the Convention Center’s Wi-Fi but decides his own might be faster for the final download of the software. He hears Kuroo talk to someone behind him as he fiddles with his phone settings. The convention opens in just a few hours and he’d like to get lunch before anyone arrives. He dreads how he’ll have to be available here until at least after the dinner rush. He’ll have to eat a heavy lunch. He has a gnawing suspicion that Kuroo’s got food or snacks in his bag if the size of it is anything to go by. He hopes there’s the red bean Taiyaki that he likes in that bag. He really wants one now.

His stomach is gnawing, reminding him of that Taiyaki he imagined earlier. It’s past 7PM now and there’s been so many people that he really doesn’t want to come back tomorrow. Kuroo’s currently out, there was a tabletop event he wanted to check out and since there wasn’t that many people when he left an hour ago, he had said yes but they’re all coming back from their dinner and filling up the room again. The heat is unbearable; poor ventilation and so many machines turned on making it worse on top of the people crowding it. More than once he’s had to explain how the Switch controls work for curious guests and it’s getting repetitive in a way that he really doesn’t enjoy. Is he really an asset as a sales representative? He thinks not.

Maybe he should just take a peek in Kuroo’s bag. He probably wouldn’t mind, right?

Turns out that he definitely wouldn’t mind given that all there is in said bag is snacks that only Kenma likes and that he knows Kuroo doesn’t even the least bit pretend to enjoy. He stays crouched and rummages through it and lo behold, a red bean Taiyaki shines from the bottom of the bag. Out of the corner of his eye he spots two people nearing the booth, one whose color scheme is glaringly blue. He hears talk, someone jumping in excitement and thinks it might be an old fan of the game excited about the remake. He’s surprised by how few knows the game – it’s not that old, he keeps telling himself.

“It’s you!” a voice exclaims and with the Taiyaki hanging from his mouth, Kenma looks up with confusion and an accidental glare. Before his booth stands two people. One is dressed like an anime character from that fighting show he’s heard about and the other… Well, the other is none other than Mikleo, a character from the game he’s currently advertising. You’re standing with the game in your hands, sparkles flying from your eyes in excitement, your underlip worried between your teeth.

Kenma drops the Taiyaki from his mouth as his brain decides you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

(Luckily for him the snack lands on the bag and not on the floor. He doesn’t notice that at all though.)

“I shouldn’t buy it. I already have it at home for the PS3,” you start arguing resolutely, putting down the Switch case with much reluctance. Your friend laughs at you, “yeah that would be silly. But you were so sad about not finding any merchandise with Mikleo or Sorey on it in Dealer and Artist, so I’m glad we saw this!” you nod to your friend, eyes still glued on the game, “me too. I hope this remake will get it the revival it deserves. Maybe we’ll actually meet people who knows the game now,” you sigh before you start to continue on, “I don’t want to be late for the Tekken tournament though and if I stay here much longer, I’ll end up buying the game.” Your friend follows and you look back at the game one last time with mock sobs and an arm reached out towards it. Your friend laughs and drags you along.

Kenma stays crouched and frozen for a few more moments until Kuroo’s voice breaks through, “that cosplayer’s the character from the game, aren’t they?” his eyes are turned towards you before he looks down at Kenma, “you found the snacks?” he walks around the tables to get inside the booth, “we can go get dinner in an hour or so, is that fine?”

Kenma barely registers any of the questions that Kuroo asks him, still looking after your form. It’s easy to see where you’re going with your cosplay prop, Mikleo’s staff being his guiding star as you’re walking towards the big screen for the Tekken tournament.

Maybe he should join the tournament.

No, he definitely shouldn’t.

Right?

A palm suddenly touches Kenma’s forehead and Kuroo’s form is crouched next to him, looking only mildly concerned, “you okay? You need to get out a bit? Too many people?” the questions are many as Kuroo tries to locate what Kenma’s issue might be. It’s not a fever, so the redness in his face much be account of the crowd, Kuroo thinks. Kenma scrunches up his nose before he gets back to his feet, “I’m fine.”

Kuroo shakes his head before he picks up Kenma’s abandoned Taiyaki and gets back up, “let me know if that changes. I’d be more than happy to duck out for food early.”

Kenma reluctantly grabs the Taiyaki from Kuroo and continues to eat it in silence. Kuroo does what he does best and try to sell the game to whoever stops by even if they’re only stopping briefly. There’s an influx of people for the tournament and Kuroo manages to sell a few copies to old fans. Kenma fiddles with his water bottle as his eyes are glued towards the tournament area, hoping he’ll see you on your way out. He definitely doesn’t want to go for dinner before it ends.

Sadly, he doesn’t see you in the crowd leaving the area, all morphed together into one blob of mass. The Game Room is finally breathable again and they get ready to leave the booth, putting up the “Out for dinner, be right back!” sign and notify the Gophers that they’re leaving so they can keep an eye on the unattended booth for them.

Kuroo wanted something from the food stalls, much to Kenma’s chagrin. Kenma doesn’t particular like going out to eat but a restaurant’s volume levels is miles apart from the food halls of an anime convention’s. The line luckily isn’t long as Kenma stands with his phone, playing Valkyrie Connect on it to pass the time. Kuroo talks to the people around them in line, blending in even though this normally isn’t his crowd.

“Ah, thank you for holding the line! It was such a bother going to the bathroom in this,” you laugh, sounding out of breath as you pat your friend’s shoulder.

Kenma’s afraid to look up because out of his peripheral he spots the blue of the bottom part of Mikleo’s pants. The tail ends of your cap sways as you move around too and he feels his tongue grow a few sizes in his mouth. Kuroo continues talking with your friend who introduces you to him.

The good thing about Kuroo, that Kenma’s always appreciated, is his uncanny way of knowing when to push Kenma’s social buttons and when not to. So Kuroo simply lets the conversation flow with the two people in front of him, not letting their focus shift to Kenma in an effort to relief him.

He chances a look at you without lifting his head and you’re even more beautiful up close. Your wig seems to be of high quality and well taken care of, even after a whole day at the convention. Kenma doesn’t know a whole lot about makeup, but he can see that yours is sharp and accentuating the parts that make you resemble Mikleo the most. You’re wearing purple contacts and Kenma’s brain is fuzzy with the thought of what your real eye color must be like. Is your hair long underneath the wig? Or short? Your face seems perfectly sculptured and he has to look back down at his game so he doesn’t pass out from the way you shine.

“Whatcha want?” Kuroo suddenly asks Kenma and he realizes it’s already their turn. Kenma gulps loudly and shakes his head at Kuroo, hoping his blush isn’t too obvious. Kuroo nods at his non-verbal response before he orders two sets of bibimbap with two chicken bao buns. Kenma fumbles to get his wallet out of his pocket to pay for the food and Kuroo wordlessly takes the wallet from him so he can hand them the correct amount. “Anyways, have a great con!” Kuroo gladly tells you and your friend as they go to leave the queue and wait by the side for their order. Kenma stomps his feet mentally and looks you squarely in the face. Your smile is gentle and warm as he gets eye contact with you, “you’re a… b-beautiful.. Mikleo.” he stumbles over his words and hurries to join Kuroo by the side, feeling very childish with his breathing ragged and heart beating. He hears you making a reply behind him but he doesn’t make out the words as he focuses on Kuroo’s shoes and quieting his own heart.

When he reaches Kuroo, an unfortunate but very teasing smirk is on the bastard’s lips. “So it wasn’t a fever.” He teases, ruffling up Kenma’s hair. “Shut up,” he bites back and punches Kuroo’s stomach. Kuroo leans forward in mock pain and whispers close to Kenma’s ear with a teasing lilt, “they’re still looking at you. I think they’re flustered.”

Kenma just hits him again but dares not to look back to confirm whether or not Kuroo’s right, a pout evident on his face from Kuroo’s teasing.

Saturday morning comes around without too many hiccups and Kenma’s playing Octopath Traveler on his own Switch, precariously tipping the chair to alleviate boredom. Kuroo only teased him mildly yesterday and this morning, so he thinks he might be safe with his private crush. It’s lunch time soon and the big cosplay show is currently underway, which makes the Game Room pleasant, only a few people sitting by different platforms quietly playing games.

Kuroo’s at the cosplay show too, leaving Kenma behind. He’d offered to go together, but Kenma thinks the noises will be too much. He can always watch the show online at another date and he doesn’t technically mind manning the booth when it’s this quiet. A few fans have found out he’s here and passed by for pictures, but it hasn’t been too wild. He misses his cats even if he briefly saw them this morning.

He yawns as he finishes off one of the chapter 2 bosses, checking his battery percent as the victory screen loads. He’s still good to go for at least some time yet before he has to get up and dig the charger out of Kuroo’s bag.

“Excuse me,” your voice rings as you clear your throat and Kenma’s head whips up so fast at the sound of your voice that he loses balance and with a leg raised tall in the air, he falls backwards with a yelp that he’ll deny until the day that he passes.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” he hears the worried wobble in your tone as you shuffle around towards the little entrance to his booth but stops in front of it, unsure if you’re allowed to enter, stomping your feet anxiously. “I didn’t mean to give you such a scare, I’m sorry!”

As Kenma groans and places his Switch carefully next to him on the floor, he realizes that you’re trying to hold back a laugh at the scene in front of you, but your brows are still furrowed in worry.

You’re not Mikleo today.

He’s not sure who you are, really. He doesn’t recognize the design but then again, he hasn’t watched a lot of anime. But even if you’re in a total different outfit, with a different hair and eye color than yesterday, there’s no mistake who you are. You’re the one inflicting psychic damage on Kenma’s heart and he’s not sure how to handle this properly.

Your outfit is no less detailed or well-done than yesterday, with a blonde wig styled with a ponytail and a very exquisite-looking, long green coat lined with gold. You’re wearing a ruffled shirt underneath a black vest, knee-length boots and white pants. You must be hot in all that. He feels heat flush to his cheeks at his own staring and throws his head back to the ground, staring at the ceiling to avoid your gaze, exhaling a deep breath. You crouch down, still by the entrance to his booth and look at him, careful of the length of your ponytail – he can see now that it’s a braid. “Are you sure that you’re okay?” you ask, biting your lip in worry about how he has yet to reply to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have walked up to him at all.

Kenma tries to make his eyes meet yours but he finds that he’s not really able to. He’s frozen staring up at the ceiling, feeling his blood pump faster than he’d like. His palms are lying spread but he can feel the sweat gathering there and there’s quite a bit of saliva gathering in his mouth that he seems to have forgotten how to swallow.

“Uhm. Was it Kazu?” you look up at the ceiling to see if Kenma’s found anything interesting, “ah! Kuroo! He said you’d be here when I saw him during the show break…” there’s a pause as you seem to think about what you want to say and Kenma finds the courage to move slowly to sit up, the thought that you sought him voluntarily out replenishing his HP bar.

You follow him with your eyes, a triumphant yet tense smile on your lips at making him blush so exceedingly. He’s pretty when he blushes, you think.

“I was wondering if you’d like to… Uh, get some lunch together from the food stalls?” Kenma whips his head towards you again, his expression more constipated than positive and you raise your arms in alarm with an apologetic smile, “y-you don’t have to of course! Kuroo just suggested that you might be hungry and well… I am too, but my friend didn’t want to miss the award ceremony so I thought… maybe… you’d like to? We could talk about the Tales of games, if you’d like?”

Kenma nods and looks away to regain control of his voice, “I’d like to, let me just close up here before we leave,” he says and a new excitement rises in him from being able to speak a whole sentence without stuttering to you. He chances a look at you he feels like he shouldn’t have because the smile that adorns your features is absolutely breath-taking and Kenma feels his heart stutter at brightness in front of him. You move to get up and dust off your thighs before reaching out to him, “need a hand?”

The walk to the food stalls isn’t as awkward as Kenma feared it’d be with his newfound inability to compose proper sentences. You let the conversation flow freely and naturally, filling in when his answers are stunted. You’re so calm and patient that Kenma finds himself opening up more naturally as you reach the stalls, taking a walk through the area to figure out what you’d like. Kenma also learns that you’re dressed as a character from Pandora Hearts today, a character named Jack. “Don’t get the curry,” you warn in a whisper-voice and lean in close to continue what Kenma supposes is gossip but his heart is beating so loud in his ears he barely hears why you issued such a warning in the first place. He simply nods and trots along, hands buried deep in his hoodie’s pockets.

You settle on the food stall that sells pizza slices. It’s a small food truck with a pizza oven inside that Kenma’s frankly fascinated by. There’s not a lot of options that he likes on their menu and he feels embarrassed to order something where half of the ingredients needs to be taken off in front of you but he would also like to be able to eat said food in front of you.

When it’s your turn in the line, Kenma motions for you to go first and as he hears your order, his mind immediately relaxes – he’s not the only one with special requests to remove certain ingredients. As it turns out, you end up wanting the same exact pizza as him, so he taps your shoulder and quickly asks if you want to change it from two separate slices and just share a regular sized pizza. Your eyes shine at his question and you nod excitedly before turning towards the cook on the other side who happily takes the new order.

You’re seated in front of each other with the pizza between you, the conversation flowing naturally and freely between games. “Have you ever played Fire Emblem?” Kenma asks through a bite of pizza and you hum through your chewing, “not yet. I only recently got my hands on my own Switch and that’s my first Nintendo console so I think it’ll take me a while to rack up my arsenal,” you laugh and Kenma nods, “you could always watch a stream of it?” he tentatively ask and you shake your head and put down your slice of pizza to take a sip of your drink, “I can’t really concentrate on streams… they’re kind of boring,” you admit with a sheepish laugh and Kenma’s back straightens as he tries not to take it personally. It’s technically not a big deal and he usually isn’t bothered by whether or not people would like him but he has a very deep-seated need for you to like him right now.

“What do you do on the daily? Outside of cons?” you ask after you’ve swallowed your last bite of pizza, “something with sales?”

Kenma raises a confused eyebrow at you and you laugh apologetically, “I just thought maybe for Bandai? Since you’re selling their game at the con.”

That’s when Kenma realizes.

You have no idea who he is.

And hey, Kenma isn’t that conceited that he thinks everyone knows him but with all the games you have the same interests in, he’d figured you at least knew his name or something of the sort. He also had a tiny drop of fear that you might just be seeking him out due to his status. He’s not sure he wouldn’t just let you, given how infatuated he is with you. What a wonderful way to get played, he absentmindedly thinks.

He's glad it seems to be in a whole other alley. You might just be interested in him for him.

“I uh, I own a company.” He tries not to sound like too much of a jerk but the sentence makes it hard to not sound high and mighty, no matter how he’d said it. Your eyes widen and you slap your palms onto the surface of the table, “that’s so cool!” you exclaim and Kenma tries to will down a blush. “What kind of company?”

He must look like a deer in the headlights to you because you shrink in on yourself and apologize for prying. He’s not sure why he didn’t expect such a follow-up question but his brain malfunctioned at the way your eyes shone. You’re wearing contacts again today, bright green and making your eyes seem bigger than they actually are. There are golden lashes lining your eyes and once again your makeup best accentuates what he believes fits the character because it’s different than it was yesterday but still just as sleek and beautiful. He hitches a breath before he can properly reply, “uh, it’s called… Bouncing Ball Corp.” he admits with a hand scratching the back of his neck.

Realization seems to dawn on your face as your eyes narrow, seemingly in deep thought. Then your mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape before you burst out laughing, a hand to your stomach. Kenma’s sitting like a duck, watching you go through all of these motions, confused as to what they might mean. Then, you wipe a stray tear from your lash line and apologize for your outburst, “it’s just. Oh my God, please apologize to your friend. When we met him at the show…” you laugh again, trying to breathe calmly, “I thought he was trying to hit on me because he started talking about knowing some kind of CEO and a streamer. My friend knew who it was but I didn’t and he seemed embarrassed that I didn’t. Oh God,” you’re still laughing, hiding your face behind your hand as Kenma puts two and two together.

That blathering idiot.

How many times does Kenma have to tell Kuroo not to be his wingman? He groans as he hides his face on the surface of the table, letting out strings of apologies on behalf of his friend. “I’m so sorry he’s just… like that,” Kenma bites out as he raises his head back up, licking his front teeth. You wave your hand with a smile, “don’t worry, don’t worry. He seems… fun. And he really seems to care about you.”

Kenma nods and plays with the woody veins on the table, unsure what to say when you grab his hand, “but you can thank him for his meddling, I think. It got the two of us talking, right?”

Kenma’s body seems to freeze at the contact as he feels the warmth of your hand in his. Your eyes look hopeful as you worry your lip between your teeth, a half-smile on your face. Kenma smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way as he squeezes your hand back with a courage he hadn’t felt in a while, “yeah, I’ll be sure to treat him to a nice dinner later. But I think I’d like to treat you to one first.”

You giggle as you look down at the table in front of you, “that’d be lovely. But I think you need to see me out of cosplay before you decide, don’t you?” you ask with nervousness teetering in your lilt. Kenma shakes his head, “I cannot imagine that you’re not beautiful underneath your costume. Besides, your personality’s what’s important and I like that a lot already.”

The smile you send his way make his heart pump again. Yeah, he definitely needs to thank Kuroo, no matter how stunted his attempt were, it ended up working.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu fluff #kenma kozume fluff #nohr.writing #I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE...... AGAIN IT IS UNBETA'D AND MY BRAIN IS STILL AT THE CON. I THINK I LEFT IT IN DEALER HALL LMAO #TRADED IT FOR A HAWKS FIGURE #i hope i got across how absolute STRUCK kenma is w reader. how bamboozled he is by their beauty

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dreamsanddrafts · 7 months ago

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What is your Heaven?

06/30/24

Somewhere in our city of sweat is a group of friends who were just getting together for the first time in weeks. What started as a green tea shot in the middle of a red cesspool tax bar, ended in the pink abyss that is the beloved huaraches. I missed the laughter my friends carry in their bellies, and how even when we are annoyed with circumstance, we still find it in us to try to have a good time. Bodies bounced between the music, and somewhere i forgot about the troubles that haunted june. I suppose when it is hot, life is always harder,, maybe we are melting inside,, or maybe delight dissipates with rising temperatures, the same math that makes opposites attract… i know june is finally over because the sky is painted with cloudy nights and pink cries, and my mind is finally nice. chaos opens up and i can find the center; finally rest in the beast that i battle. this last weekend was a cluster of moments most needed to transition into july. people from my past popped by this weekend, and I kept it the most collected. I think i have found some peace with the pieces that never found a place in my puzzle. I'm glad for the life i live now. I hope i learn to live in it rather than look at it… whatever that may mean to you.

Twenty-four peaks its head around the corner, and i cannot wait to catch up. I quit my job that i hated so much, and found myself back in the same corner i was a few months ago… a new job blessed my existence, but it has also felt like a few steps back. But i remember progress is not linear, and my goals won’t work unless i do. and i think i need to retrace some steps and figure out which door i should have never opened, and learn why i did.

As of lately i have been thinking of my future,,, and how can i keep it to taste as sweet as cherries and sparkle like fireworks,,, ahh july… i wonder if years of horrible patrons and partners have turned me into something so irreversibly cynical. I wonder if i ever stopped to see if something was actually my happy place,,, because truthfully i only remember the bad of every year… of every show,, of every job, and person, and relationship.. and the good,,, that happened inside all the bad. I can find a silver lining,, but i never stay on the side that holds contentment,, i always need to find what's wrong before it finds me. rage followed anxiety. And see, i just don't care for that to be me anymore. I think the life i have been building for at least the last year has its flaws, but it finally feels so free. I love my friends, and i hope they never seek florida. Everyone i love has to leave,, maybe it’s time for me. phoenix is a hard place to love when you have to prove yourself. that is why it is so important to build and keep those personal close. i don’t know what i am saying,, but it feels fine to spill again and i have waited for this moment for so long. Till next blog…

-JAM

#dreamsanddrafts #blog #lols #JAM

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passerine-writes · 2 years ago

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Silent Sparks - Volt 18

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma and scars Word count: 2325

Notes: Italics - Tsukare signing Bold italics - Family member/friend signing 'Italics with apostrophes' - Thoughts Masterlist

Volt 17 | Volt 19

I didn't get much sleep through the weekend. School ended up being cancelled Friday and Saturday but it didn't help my mind. Instead, I was now sat in Principal Nedzu's office, since he wanted to check in on Hitoshi and I. He poured me a cup of tea and offered me a tray of cookies, I took one so I wouldn't come off as rude and slowly munched on the delicious treat.

"It's been quite some time since you've been in my office, Tsukare. I understand the USJ was a difficult day for you." I nodded and sipped on the tea. "I also understand you have some qualms with the newest teacher here, but we'll discuss that later. How have you been holding up? It looks as though you haven't been sleeping much, if at all." I shook my head and fought to find the words.

"I've uh, been having nightmares. Every time I try to sleep, I just see my dad getting his face slammed into the ground over and over again. Or that hand guy killing him or Pops or Hitoshi. I haven't had nightmares this bad since one of my foster homes." Nedzu hummed and grabbed a cookie.

"I used to get nightmares too after the experiments. I got them to stop by rationalizing with myself, reminding myself that it's not happening anymore. It took quite a lot of time but it eventually worked. It's okay to have problems after something like this, its a completely normal response." I nodded along, understanding where he was coming from but not knowing how effective that might be for me.

"Do you think they'll ever stop?"

"Yes, however I don't know when. I would like to circle back around to your issues with All Might. I understand that you've been having problems this past week. I know he's new to teaching, but I have a feeling that's not it." I raked a hand through my hair, not excited for this talk.

"I've never really cared for him growing up, I didn't understand why he was everyone's favorite. Then the more I heard about him, the more I started being off put by him. I heard about him teaching here so I knew it would be a pretty good chance for him to be teaching one of my classes. Then he let an over scaled fight happen on the second day."

"Over scaled?" I bounced my leg to try and keep my focus since I didn't take my meds.

"Yeah, he doesn't know and didn't care about the history between Bakugou and Midoriya, I don't know if you do either."

"I do, your dads came in here bragging about how you got in your first fight and that it was for the right reasons. It's understandable to act on impulse because someone touched a sore subject in your life." I nodded along, silently thankful that he was helping me keep my train of thought.

"Yeah, well Bakugou exploded his giant grenade thing and it was huge and he used it against Midoriya and I told him he needed to intervene and shut it down and if he didn't then I would but he only said something after Kirishima said something. Then he took me to Chiyo's office and tried getting me put on seventy two hour psychiatric lock up and we found out because of that that he didn't read most of, if not all of, our files. Which he was supposed to do. Plus, I've been clean for over three years. It's very obvious that these scars are old and he tried getting me medically detained for it. And when I asked Chiyo to call my dads down and say it was an emergency, he ended up trying to treat me like I was crazy and told me that people only have one dad." Nedzu sat for a moment processing, taking a sip of his tea before he said something.

"Oh dear. I can see why you would have some qualms with him. If he does one more thing out of line then there will be consequences. I will give him a warning as well. What's happened is unacceptable." I sighed, glad that he came to some sort of agreeance with me.

That's one thing I appreciate about Nedzu, he won't sugar-coat or aimlessly agree. In the years that I've known him he's always been very realistic and open ended. He wouldn't argue for the final word but he would help shine light on other aspects or flawed outlooks. If someone came to disagree with him, he would respect that they had different perspectives and not force his own.

"Tsukare, if you don't mind my asking, have you been getting anymore thoughts lately?" One of the dreaded questions.

"I haven't had them in a while, not serious thoughts about it at least. On occasion, I'll get a thought about death or harm, but it's gone as quick as it came and I don't act on it." He nodded and took another sip of his tea.

"I ask because when old wounds are brought to light, it can bring some old feelings as well. I also couldn't help but notice that you haven't taken your medication and wasn't sure if it extended to your other prescriptions as well." I shook my head, wanting to make things somewhat clear.

"No, I still take my anti-anxiety, magnesium and anti-depressants everyday. On days where I don't have school or something in particular to focus on, I don't take the ones for my ADHD." He hummed contently.

"I'm glad to hear they're working. Well, that is all I wanted to ask you today, you're free to leave. Thank you for coming Tsukare." I stood up and bowed, thanking him as well before leaving. On the walk to the train station, I called Pops, wanting to keep him updated.

"Onryo, is everything okay?" I checked the time and scolded myself for calling him while on patrol.

"Sorry Pops, I didn't see what time it was. I was just letting you know that I'm leaving Nedzu's office now and I'll be home in about forty five minutes." He sighed and I could practically hear his soul re-enter his body.

"Okay, just text me when you get home, okay?"

"Okay, love you."

"Love you too, little listener." I ended the call and popped an earbud in to play some music.

On the walk to the station, I noticed four familiar heads of hair at the skatepark. One blond with a black streak, one red, one black and one pink.

"Hey is that- Hey! Tsukabro!" I waved and went to the entrance, the four rushing over to greet me.

Mina wore a pair of ripped, jean shorts with a crop top. Sero wore an over sized shirt with some joggers. Kirishima had on a muscle tank and cargo shorts. Kaminari however, had on a navy blue v-neck t-shirt with an unbuttoned, short sleeved button up, a small necklace hanging freely, ripped jeans with a chain, a multitude of bracelets on one wrist and vans.

"Tsukababe! Now I have most of the hot guys in our class as bodyguards!" I blushed awkwardly at her compliment, rubbing the back of my neck to try and focus.

"How come you need bodyguards when you have such a good quirk?" I was confused, it didn't make sense to me.

"Creepy guys try and flirt with me when I dress how I want." My eyebrows furrowed, cinching together in confusion.

"Why?" She laughed softly and ruffled my hair, not noticing how I flinched a little.

"You are such a cinnamon roll, no wonder you and Midoriya are such good friends. They want to smash because I have a body and they think I'm dressing like this for them." She laughed as I grew more confused.

"But, this is hurting my brain, gods some people are stupid. And I thought I was dumb. Jeez." I ran a hand through my hair as I tried to piece things together in my brain. "So, wait, okay, some people think it's okay to do that stuff because of how you dress?" She nodded slowly, being patient with me. "But you're not dressing for them, you're dressing for you. And even if, there's nothing wrong with how you dress." She nodded along and I groaned. "Either this isn't making sense because I didn't take my meds, or this isn't making sense because it doesn't." Kirishima patted a hand on my shoulder.

"It just doesn't make sense, bro." I nodded along, completely confused as to how some people function.

"Then I'll be a body guard despite my lack of hotness." I dramatically bowed, a forearm tucked to my stomach with the other extended. "I shall make them temporarily deaf if they think of talking to you for those reasons." She clapped her hands together with a wide smile on her face.

"Yay! You all drink your respect women juice!." Mina cheered and Kirishima bumped his fists together while activating his quirk, sending us a pointy smile.

"Hell yeah! My moms raised me better then to act any other way!" I held out a fist and smiled as he gave me a fist bump. "See, Tsukabro gets it!"

"And Tsukababes! You are too hot! We've all agreed on it so it's true." I simply shrugged my shoulders as everyone nodded together.

"Hey, I hope you it's okay if I ask, but is it true that Aizawa's your dad?" Kirishima asked, thankfully changing subjects. I scratched my wrist nervously, realizing I screwed up.

"He took me in as his foster kid when I was eight and adopted me soon after I turned nine. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone for safety reasons, but now the whole class knows. Dammit, gods I can't believe I was so careless. But yeah, he's my dad." All of them nodded as they let the information sink in.

"I get it bro, my moms adopted me when I was a baby so I never really had to go through how bad the system is. Adoption bros!" I couldn't help but laugh, amused at his antics.

"So me, you and Hitoshi are in an adoption club now?" He nodded happily, succeeding in cheering me up as well. A hand gently grabbed mine, stopping me from itching. I looked up the see Kaminari holding my hand gently, almost cradling it in his own as he slipped his fidget in my hands. I blushed and sent him a small smile of gratitude.

"It's gotta be weird having your dad as your teacher though. But you could get away with so much! Is that why you got away with talking back to All Might?" Sero asked, seeming genuinely curious but I hated his implication.

"No, if I do something out of line then I'll take the repercussions. I don't want my dad being a pro hero or a teacher at UA to give me unfair advantages. If I achieve something I want it to be because I earned it. Y'know?" Kirishima wiped a faux tear and pounded a fist against his chest.

"So manly." I ducked my head and bashfully thanked him.

"Hey uh, can you guys do me a favor? Just don't tell anyone in other classes, please? Nobody's supposed to really know." Kaminari sent me a thumbs up with a wide smile.

"Yeah of course!"

I ended up staying at the skatepark hanging out with them for another twenty or so minutes before I realized what time it was and that I had to head home.

"Hey, can we get your number, Tsukababes? We're working on starting a class group chat!" I nodded and was handed one phone at a time, my phone buzzing immediately after and letting me know who was who.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow in class!" They all said goodbye and I quickly texted my pops to let him know I got caught up talking to some classmates and would be home soon. I immediately realized I forgot to give Kaminari back his fidget cube.

From Pikachu: Hey it's Kaminari!

From Scraggy: Hey Tsukare, it's Sero

From Boldore: Hey Tsukabro! It's Kirishima!

From Venomoth: Hey Tsukababe!

I couldn't help but laugh to myself at what I put their contact names as, each of them a different Pokémon.

To Pikachu: Hey Kami, I completely forgot to give you back your fidget cube. I'll make sure to bring it tomorrow!

From Pikachu: No worries! You can hang onto it, I got a bunch more at home :)

To Pikachu: Are you sure?

From Pikachu: Yeah, don't sweat it

From Pikachu: I'm glad you hang out with us a bit today

I couldn't stop the blush on my face, smiling like a dork at my phone while sitting on the train.

To Pikachu: I had a really good time, I've never been to a skate park before so that was a first

From Pikachu: Wait, seriously????

From Pikachu: How?!?!

To Pikachu: I don't know how to skateboard or anything, so I've never gone

From Pikachu: I'll teach you how one of these days

To Pikachu: You sure?

From Pikachu: Yeah!

I stared at my phone as I walked into my house, sending a quick text to Pops to let him know I was home safe before I spotted Hitoshi on the couch.

"What has you blushing like that?" I stared at him with wide eyes, like a deer caught in head lights.

"Uh, something that will piss off dad a lot so I'm not telling him until I have a better idea of where it's going." He froze for a second before he shrugged, turning back to one of the cats on the couch.

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thebisexualdogdad · 2 years ago

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Weekend adventures - Poison Ivy x M!Reader

You and Ivy had been "borrowing" a penthouse for the weekend whose actual owners were out of town for business.

This certainly wasn't the first time either as you regularly scoped out the homes of Gotham's wealthiest and took full advantage of their frequent travels.

The two of you always made sure to leave the places how you found it so as to not tip off the residents who would then contact GCPD starting an investigation on the string of break ins or worse, get Batman involved.

However, being that rich people have no real sense of their belongings they never really noticed when an expensive bottle of wine or last season's coats went missing.

You spent the weekend pampering yourselves, Ivy found a plush bathrobe that fit her just right that she planned on taking with her before you left, it's not as if it would be missed amongst the two dozen other robes the woman hoarded in the closet.

In the master bathroom was a huge bathtub that you had been itching to use and since it was your final night before its owners returned it was your last chance to take it for a spin.

You drew a bath while Ivy was napping in the king sized bed post a decadent breakfast you ordered in that morning using a credit card you stole from some guy off the street the other day.

When she awoke she heard the water running, sauntering into the bathroom to investigate.

"Whatcha doing there lover boy?" She asks.

"I found all this fancy bath stuff in the cabinets thought we'd enjoy our last day in paradise," you tell her.

She's standing there in the robe she hasn't taken off in three days and she looks as beautiful as ever.

You turn the water off and stand up, removing your clothes and stepping into the tub, bubbles falling over the side.

Ivy smiles and lets the robe fall to the floor revealing she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

She joins you in the tub, her back pressed against your front.

"I must be the luckiest man in the world," you say kissing her neck and wrapping your arms around her waist, "to be in this gorgeous penthouse with such a gorgeous woman by my side."

"You don't need to sweet talk me Y/N, I'm already naked," she teases.

"You know I always mean every word."

You relax for a while, enjoying each other's company and the luxurious bathtub though with your cock pressing into her back Ivy is getting turned on and feeling like spicing things up.

She takes your hand and guides it down her stomach until you reach her center.

Ivy moans when you cup her, arching her chest above the water, covered in bubbles.

You toy with her clit, gently rubbing it before plunging two fingers inside her.

Her head is thrown back into your shoulder letting you nip at her neck while your fingers curl upwards to hit her g spot with every pump.

With your free hand you play with her breasts, Ivy gasping and groaning when you bring her to her first orgasm.

She is nowhere near satisfied and turns around in the tub, splashing water everywhere as she sits in your lap.

"God you're so hot," you say as she grinds her center down into your hard cock.

"If I had a dollar for every time I've been told that I'd be a very rich woman," she laughs.

"Maybe then we wouldn't have to spend our weekends breaking into real rich people's penthouses," you chuckle.

"Well then life would just be boring," she says kissing you, "nothing makes me happier than having an adventure with you."

"I swear I'm gonna marry you someday," you tell her, guiding your cock inside her.

"You promise to add in your vows that I didn't use any of my aphrodisiacs to make you love me?" She giggles, slowly bouncing up and down.

"Even if you did I wouldn't care," you laugh, "I'd shout it from every rooftop in Gotham that I'm so deeply madly in love with Pamela Isley."

Hearing you say that causes another wave of arousal to hit her and she's making sounds of pleasure you never even heard from her before.

The floor is soaked with all the water falling over the side of the tub while she rides you but she just keeps moving.

Her chest is now at face level so you flick over one of her nipples with your tongue, the taste of cherry blossom soap on her skin.

She moans, moving faster and faster in your lap so you wrap your lips around her nipple sucking on it and playing with it.

Every so often you alternate between her breasts giving them equal attention and Ivy is so close to the edge.

Ivy moans your name when she cums again, riding you through her orgasm.

She continues to rock her hips until you cum, giving her multiple aftershocks as you fill her up.

Her body stills and you bask in the moment together, breathing in sync and looking into each other's eyes.

"I love you so damn much Ivy," you tell her.

"I love you too Y/N," she smiles before kissing you passionately.

#dc imagine #poison ivy imagine #poison ivy x reader #x male reader #fic

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cheesus-doodles · 2 years ago

Text

A Friend In Me: Chapter 2

Yandere Platonic Toman

‎‎‎

<< Chapter 1

Masterlist

‎A/N: Holy hell, it's been a while! Really glad to be back from my break, it's honestly weird to not be writing every free minute I have. Crunch time just to finally get this out on time for my boy's birthday :3 As usual I will edit the grammatical errors later cause its super late now. Happy (very belated) Birthday Mikey!!

‎‎

It was an unusual spring in your step and an exceptionally cheery hum on your lips that accompanied you when you returned to school the following week, your spirits riding high off a fun-filled weekend surrounded by your precious friends. Albeit it was a break that the boys had forced a very reluctant you to take against your will and the mountain of homework piled high up on your desk. Yet all it took was a lavish sprinkle of whining and tugging and pleading, combined with a generous serving of extra strength puppy eyes, and you caved like the crispy top of one of your homemade pot pies.

And that was hands down the best decision your friends had ever made for you all month, you had to admit.

As someone whose life had been all but consumed in an endless cycle of school, work, home and utter loneliness up till meeting Baji and Mikey on that fateful afternoon, it blew your mind that there was so much to see, so much to do in this city you’ve lived your whole life in. Maybe it was just that the city came alive when you were with your friends, the alluring lights dotting skyscrapers winking at you from the distant skyline. Or maybe it was the laughs and smiles that helped saturate the sounds and sights that filled your wide eyes and ears. Be it fishing by the riverbank in the outskirts of the city with Draken and Pah-chin, which you had barbecued there and then and eaten the fish, trying out a new cafe in outskirts with Mitsuya and Mikey, a half-an-hour bus ride away from your home, or even just picnicking in a public park under the shade of a century old tree with Kazutora and Baji, you never found a reason for your smile to drop.

Needless to say, the high spirits carried over from weekends translated into a bounce in your step as you skipped the last few steps to the gates of your school, waving goodbye to Mikey who had dropped you off. You could do this. You were certain you could. All this time spent around friends who truly cared for you, who so kindly, so patiently helped you through your social anxiety - if you couldn’t make a single one on your own, maybe you didn’t deserve any. But you wouldn’t let them down, not this time.

Confidence at an all-time high and in the midst of giving yourself a pep talk, the ever so slight crinkle of the corners of Mikey’s black eyes and the small smirk that quickly faded from his face slipped by you unnoticed.

“Morning, Yamamoto-kun, Kaito-kun!” You chirped out, completely undeterred from the lack of responses you were receiving from the various classmates shuffling by: they had been enthusiastic enough last Friday after all. It was probably just the Monday blues, and you conveniently brushed off the nervous glances sent your way. The morning sun shining directly into your classroom - the same one that shone on you last week as you finally broke ground with new people on your own accord - brought with it a sense of hopefulness with the refracted fragile lines of rainbows through large clear glass windows. Spending a few minutes to watch as the rays dance across the still classroom filled with students, you resigned yourself to reminiscing about your amazing weekend while waiting for the gloom to drain from the atmosphere.

Alas, it seemed your understanding of the situation was far from reality, and the realization only finally dawned when homeroom, and then first class dragged on and the expected friendliness never materialized.

“Tanaka-kun! How was…your…week…end?” Your voice trailed off as said boy simply stalked pass without a glance in your way, your raised hand slowly retracting back under the table as you watched his back disappear round a corner, not once acknowledging your presence. And he wasn’t the first with those cold shoulders and even colder glares that you couldn’t even begin to understand, already one of countless you had been on the receiving end of in the first few hours of classes. Biting back the tears you felt starting to well up in your eyes, at least the risen sun melted away a little of the icy reception you received. Why? What did you do? Maybe it was the way you were pronouncing their names? Was it your expression?

No matter. “I’ll try harder.” You mumbled to yourself under your breath for the umpteenth time even as your fingers picked at the corner of bleeding fingernails, the other hand tugging and grasping at the hem of your school shirt. You could always try harder.

But as time dragged on and your class started and ended one by one, it became clear to you that social skills just simply weren’t a strong suit of yours. And your mind - or more so your heart, you suspected - started to fail in its ability to push back those nagging voices that haunted you, allowing them to roar straight back to the front of your thoughts. What you felt now - it was like that dream you had again and again of falling off the tallest skyscraper headfirst. Your dream never had you crash into the warm pavement below, but you could confidently say you learn that feeling first hand; your hopes of making even more friends through your own ability all but smashed into million pieces, and yourself dunked straight back into the harsh cold waters of reality.

Yet all you could do was unwillingly trudge on, clinging to the last bit of hope as you slumped into your seat. In a vain attempt to turn your bittering thoughts off your current treatment by who you once thought were acquaintances - you were hesitant to call them friends so quickly, and you guessed that was the right call after all - you turned your attention to the vacant seats littering the classroom. And there were quite a few of them to your surprise as you mentally tallied the total count, and there didn’t seem to be any one pattern to reason for so many of your classmates to not be here. Maybe the flu? But it wasn’t flu season. Or maybe it was just that they had too much fun over the weekend and didn’t feel like coming back, cause that would have been your reason as well.

The ring of the school bell broke you from your thoughts: banded classes were starting as evident with the scrapping of chairs against wooden flooring and scuffling of bags against tables, and you had to move. Leaping to your feet as you scrambled to gather your scattered belongings, you mustered what remained of your courage at the familiar sight of brown pigtails, turning with what you hoped was a bright smile. “Ah Aki-kun, wait for m-”

“Stop! Stay away!”

You froze. “I-”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know.” The normally mild-natured bespectacled girl all but hissed at you as shoved past you, another icy voice you never expected from another mouth you were certain you never crossed. “You did this to them! Just - stay away from me!”

All you ever did was to call out to her to wait so that you could pack. And she and everyone else left you standing there alone, your belongings half strewn across the table top with the other half messily stuffed into your bag. The cloudy skies and cool breeze that kissed your skin and teased your hair, coupled with the copious amounts of food and laughter you enjoyed with your friends over the weekend, now seemed so distant, a stark contrast to the bleak present you were in. You stiffly stuffed the rest of the items into your bag.

No one wanted to sit, talk or even look in your direction. For reasons beyond you, no matter where or who you desperately reached out to, the reaction you received was exactly the same. Different people, different classes. Nothing.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did.” You muttered, but it was really more for yourself than anyone around, your fingernails only digging further into already bruising flesh. “I’m sorry.” Being plunged once more back into miserable isolation was a difficult feeling to bear quietly; just when you thought, for once in your life, that you've made it. Yet all you could do was curl into yourself and mumble apologies under your breath to whoever out there could hear you, whoever would hear you. For what unknown crimes you weren't sure, but if everyone else agreed it was all your fault for something, who were you to disagree? You must have done it.

Time seemed to drag on forever, every minute an excruciating hour spent trying to ignore those inhospitable glares digging into your back wherever you went. At least the one thing you could be sure of, lost in this confusing world alone with your self-esteem falling off a cliff face, was that the clock still ticked uncaringly on, dragging you forward with every rotation of the second hand - it brought with it hope that this nightmare would come to an end.

Staring out the window, your teacher’s voice faded away into the background as you watched cars speed by to destination unknowns, the sunlight twinkling off reflective paint a mocking reminder of how cold you felt despite the afternoon heat. You always thought you had hit rock bottom before, but it seemed that that had been nothing but a false bottom just waiting to spring open. What were you even thinking? Trying to make friends as if you could? You failed, those whispering voices laughed at you repeatedly, their taunts echoing in your head and in your ears. You failed.

You tried to pull yourself together as best you could - perhaps it was all just a misunderstanding. Maybe your classmates had mistook someone else for you. But then why was this feeling of dread settling comfortably into your gut as if it had always been there? Or this incessant thought that all your friendships were built on nothing but pity? You failed not just yourself. You failed them.

It was a miracle you made it to lunch without so much a leaky nose, having barely held yourself together through the various classes and murderous looks that you probably deserved with nothing more than tightly pursed lips and a silent vow to yourself to not further embarrass everyone you knew. But as the clock ticked down little by little to lunch and you spotted the all too familiar mob of lilac hair settling just outside the wall of your classroom, you came to the quick realization that there was no way you could face Mitsuya without instantly bursting into tears - the same hastily, desperately, erected walls that you had holding back the quickly surging tide of emotions would crumble. The knot of dread and shame that settled in the base of your gut only grew and grew.

And then the bell went off.

“Hey!” Mitsuya stepped forward to greet you as you appeared through the doorway of your classroom, arms spread for his routine hug you never failed to return. The eagerness at spending his precious lunch time with you was clearly written on his face, yet you couldn’t even face him. “Let’s head to -”

Wordlessly, you shoved past him, reddening eyes and cheeks hidden in your sleeves, and you disappeared into the growing crowd.

You didn’t return to school. It was the first time you had ever skipped school too; ironic that it was this meaningless nonsense that finally broke your back and not the group’s persistent invitations of fun and adventure. Your feet trailed a path you knew so well, and you found yourself back at the small lazy river snaking its way downstream noiselessly - the smell of grass and flowers and water bringing back those memories of many happier days spent here with your friends, imagined or otherwise.

How could you face the others like this as an absolute failure? And those nagging voices pipped up once more - had those six boys even really been your friends? The simple question stumped you; what should have been a clear and resounding ‘yes’ instead turned into a strong sense of being stranded and lost in your own mind at the same time.

You didn't even know what you did to your classmates. Has your classmates' friendliness been nothing more than pure imagination? Then were Mikey's and Baji's and the others’ fake too? Could you have just been seeing their eager eyes and bright smiles in your head? What if they left you? Certain that you wouldn't like the answer to that question, you pushed it to the back of your mind like the rest of your pathetic existence as you huddled further into your jacket, desperate for some comfort, any comfort. Kicking a stone down the path, the river continued to flow undisturbed even as you failed to stop the tears that welled up and poured down your cheeks in hot streams, or the hiccups and whimpers that leaked from between bitten lips.

Even still, no matter how much you doubted your own judgment, the sunlight that tanned your skin yet failed to warm you didn’t seem to brighten your world as much as when you had been with them.

Stumbling back home alone wasn’t anything you weren’t familiar with, having done it every day before you met Baji and Mikey. Your feet were sore from hours of walking down alongside the river, yet they still faithfully carried you home, trudging the dead streets in the light of the evening sun. But so caught up in your self pity were you that you almost failed to notice all 6 of the boys already waiting for you, scattered in smaller groups along the street outside your house. You instantly froze upon catching a glimpse of that unmistakable gray checkered jacket from the corner of your dry, bloodshot eyes, but it was too late, Mikey having already spotted you, expectant gaze turned from the overcast sky to meet yours. The rest looked up when you meekly approached, eyes lowered and not daring to look at what you assumed was fury - at you? - blazing in those gazes.

For a moment, all was silent. Even the wind who had been faithfully drying your tears stilled in that moment, and you thought you fucked up this friendship too. It was all over for you.

But when a cold drink was thrust into your hands by a red-faced and mumbling Baji, and Draken rested a hand atop your head and gently asked you what happened, you couldn't hold back the tears any longer, your already painful eyes squeezing as a fresh wave ran down your cheeks. You couldn’t care less about what you looked like any more.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled under your breath, delicate fingers white from clutching desperately to the worn strap of your school bag. “Is it me?”

Was it something you did? Was it something you said? Maybe it was just you? You didn’t dare look up again at the boys, a fresh wave of hot painful tears spilling from eyes already swollen from the earlier pity party you threw yourself. And the silence you received in response only seemed to align with what you always believed deep down. Pathetic. You must look absolutely pathetic, a sniveling mess in your crumpled uniform. This must be what your classmates had seen of you, yet there was not much you could do in the moment to change - to improve - that in front of the six boys you naively called friends. “I’ll - go. If it’s me.”

If they wanted you gone, the least you could do was pick up what was left of your broken heart and make sure you do your best to never let them have to look at you again. Maybe move across Japan, maybe even overseas. No one would need or want such a pitiful friend to throw a wet blanket on their day, and you understood that well. You wouldn’t hate them in the slightest for their decision.

A blink, and you found yourself engulfed in a warm comforting hug, familiar arms wrapped around you as best as they could under and around your bag straps. “Don’t be stupid.” Mitsuya sighed out, one hand running soothingly through your hair and a rare indulgent smile pulling at his lips when you finally broke down and started bawling into his shoulder, yet the boy barely seemed concerned with the growing wet patch on his shirt as you buried your shame in the depths of the soft cotton.

‎

What you didn’t know was just shy out of range of your still fragile emotions and your cone of view, it was a breath of relief your six friends hadn’t even realized they’ve been holding that was let slipped and floated off on the light breeze, the tension that had been draped heavy over them finally lifting.

When they had first heard of you simply shoving past Mitsuya at lunch to run off by yourself through said boy’s worried messages and calls to Mikey, they weren’t quite sure what to think. Maybe it had just been a bad day? Completely possible, given that they did have a hand in contributing to that. But it was only when you failed to return to your classes after lunch (a first ever for you, you cared far too much about your studies to ever skip) was when the panic finally started to sink in, settling into the base of their gut like an uncomfortable glop. Instantly leaping to his feet, Mikey was barking out orders and everyone was racing to their assigned search area, fanning out to look for any sign of you.

Anger, irritation, anything that wasn’t you being back in their arms had all seemed to melt away from their thoughts as they combed the streets. Have you figured out what they did? Were you trying to run from them, break off your friendship? What if you left? Unthinkable consequences the boys were hesitant to even consider should thoughts have power, and chose to collectively sweep under the rug when such possible outcomes were brought up during their secret meetings in the shadows of Musashi Temple. How to plead their case to you was not something any of them was eager to find out.

But for all the anxiety and sweat and tears you put them through, was this all you had been worried about? That they, of all people, would be disappointed you couldn’t make friends by yourself?

“You’ll- you’ll let me know i-if I m-m-mess up?” You managed to whimper out between your adorable hiccups, flushed cheeks only serving to highlight bloodshot eyes.

You hadn’t even stopped to consider the one-eighty in your classmates, about your sudden shunning in school and whether they had a role in that. Such a heretic thought must have never even crossed your mind, and it was then that it dawned on them they could truly do no wrong in your eyes: not your beloved friends who cared deeply for you. And that was what they liked so much about you - that you never doubted them, only yourself.

No response was needed for such a silly question - you could never ‘mess up’ in any way that would matter to them when it came to not ‘making friends’ - and you were quickly and roughly yanked off Mitsuya by a grinning Pah, momentarily stunning you out of your crying as you were sent flying for a brief second. “Kazutora, catch!” Landing smack in said boy’s chest, the boy with the black and gold hair only had enough time to toss your bag onto a nearby bench and sneak in a quick yet tight hug before you were once again pulled away, a flash of long black momentarily blocking your sight as Baji earned himself a loud cry of indignation. Kazutora once more attempted to launch himself at you, only to miss and be sent flying at Mikey instead.

Your anxiety and tears were no match against the sheer force of your friends’ cheer as each boy took turns yanking and pulling you into their own big hugs, the tried and true exaggerated pats on your back and hard ruffles of your hair not failing to pull your lips upwards. “Bastards,” The lilac-haired boy could only shake his head at having you pulled from his arms, but the smile on his lips was clear, and he reached out to grab you mid-flight for a quick cuddle before allowing you to be stolen away again by a cheeky Draken. Hiccups morphing into giggles and into all-out laughter as you were pulled here and there, you couldn’t help the happiness bubbling up into your chest and bursting free, your face buried into various shoulders and chests (and a single armpit, courtesy of Mikey).

“What did your shitty classmates do this time?” Baji sneered, as he dodged under Kazutora’s arm, pulling you out of reach from those grabby fingers.

“It’s not them, I-”

Mikey cut you off. “Nah, it’s definitely them.”

As the others echoed the same view, under the barrage of assurances that you couldn’t possibly fuck up, not with them, the fear that had been weighing on your chest, that made it hard to breathe, finally lifted. Your arms grabbed from the sides by Kazutora and Mikey, you had no choice but to laugh along as you were all but mobbed by your friends, frogmarched towards their bikes for yet another adventure with them, something to clear your mind and heart they claimed, though you did pull away just before they could haul you onto the back of a bike.

“Sorry about your shirt, Mitsuya,” You scratched at the back of your hair, your gaze darting between the wet stain on his shirt before and the dusty ground. “I’ll wash it for you, I promise.”

He only waved off your apology, lightly dusting your hair with his knuckles before herding you towards where the rest were waiting. “You smiling again is good enough for me.”

With the cheer and laughter that surrounded you almost constantly throughout what remained of the day, the niggling worries and anxiety at the back of your mind quickly melted away under the setting evening sun, the dying rays of light bringing with them your sorrows and fears. Even if the scars stayed forever embedded deep in your heart, there was nothing to worry about, you were sure about that, your mind once more building up the strength to push down the taunting voices that said otherwise. You didn’t need more friends. All the friends you needed were right here, with you. They did care.

“I can do this. I can do this.” You repeated under your breath like a mantra, attempting to steel your nerves as best you could. Going back to the mutterings and hostile looks behind your back the next day was tough, not after the previous evening’s distractions. Even if you were prepared, knowing what was coming, the first icy glare and your confidence was once more ready to crumble - this was a lot harder than it looked. But this time, you persevered, trying to allow the seemingly infinite anger directed at you to wash away with every step, though that didn’t always work. “I can do this.”

It would certainly be a while before you could walk down the corridor with your head held high, or until your self-esteem recovered enough to stop muttering apologies to whoever seemed even the slightest bit annoyed at your existence, but you were sure you could get there in time. You did have lunch and after school to look forward to now. With your real friends.

‎

Relief. Pure, unadulterated relief.

That was all the boys could feel when you enthusiastically waved them off at school, your figure disappearing past the bend of a wall as the shrill scream of the school bell pierced their ears. You didn’t actually find out what they did behind your back - they had all but thought you gone, having left in disgust. And your disappearance, despite you returning to the safety of the group, all but sealed the fact that what happened over the weekend was nothing you needed to know. And you probably didn’t want to either, your fragile self unable to handle all the nasty, grisly details that they were keeping you safe from, sheltered and protected from the harsh realities of the sinister world out there.

The threats dished out almost casually by Mikey and the beatings dealt out by Baji, or the blood on Kazutora’s hands and the crunch of bones under Draken’s. It was all for you.

Despite their intended outcome being to hit where it hurt the most, in this case your feelings and self-esteem - they did know your personal flaws very well - the sight of your face red with tears, combined with the gut-wrenching sadness pouring through glossy doe eyes, felt much like a stab to their chest. The pain and fear smeared across your expression was almost too much even for these delinquents to bear.

“First time, last time,” Baji said grimly, turning to trudge the few steps back to his motorcycle as the courtyard of your school emptied of the last loitering students, though the sentiment wasn’t exactly echoed by the others. Even if the momentary pain that they put you through was justified in the end, the means was too painful to repeat. They could only hope that this truly was a one off, both for you and for them - deep down they knew they would do it all over again. Again and again, however many times it takes to sink it into your head. But right now, at this moment, this feeling surging through their veins, it was liberating. Your real friends no longer need to worry about any of your school garbage stealing you away from them, no more.

You were truly theirs, and only theirs.

‎

Days and weeks passed in a flash, and you don’t think you’d ever been happier. The hours melted away like ice cream in the middle of summer, your time torn between school, friends and much to the dismay of the boys, work. Despite their insisting that you should just play with them, that you really didn’t have to work, you still had been taking as many errands as your limited time allowed. And any money you earned went almost entirely towards those bentos crafted specially for each member of the group that took a whole day to make, filled to the brim with their favorites, which you would have never been able to afford without the extra allowance. The appreciative smiles and the empty boxes you received in return made your effort, time and darkening eyebags all worthwhile.

Arguments and tensions within the group never lasted long with you present, easily diffusing their hot tempers and that itch to fight with just a crack of a smile or a small laugh that slipped through. Life was easier and a hell lot more fun with you around, and everyone in the group knew that.

Yet for all their effort day after day, no matter how hard your dear friends labored thanklessly trying to keep you away - to protect you - from anyone and anything that might steal you away from them, you still somehow manage to slip under their defenses time and time again. Be it a kind word to some random (scumbag, they just know it) guy, or an offer of help to a random passing stranger who looked the slightest bit lost, you could never seem to keep your attention where it belonged, and their efforts to intervene and keep you safe were far from watertight. After all, you were all just kids busy living your own lives, and keeping you within sight of at least one of them at all times wasn’t something that they were capable of at the moment.

Worse still, your tendency to wander off from them wasn’t an issue that your friends could settle with a one-off beating dished out behind your back. You were no social magnet, a known fact to all, so why couldn’t you stay in your lane? Why must you insist on exposing yourself to unnecessary danger?

‎

It was one of those sweltering afternoons - the kind where the sun beating down mercilessly atop heads was enough to redden skin and foul the best of moods - on which it finally sunk in on Draken just how reckless, how carefree you could be. What was supposed to be just a normal patrol round your little neighborhood quickly curdled like fresh milk on stumbling upon you surrounded by a group of boys, his already wretched mood souring further. Rival gangsters, Draken’s mind filled in in the next heartbeat, the eye-catching logo decorating their large backs glowing lightly in the shadows only serving to taunt him. And then you, looking even more delicate against threateningly larger figures, a bright smile on your face as you gave directions to them, which only fan the flames of his growing temper, his hands unknowingly clenching into tight fists at his side.

Of all the days for none of your friends to be free to accompany you on your mundane route, of all the times to have this very rare downtime with no one scheduled to you, it just had to be today and right now. You were supposed to be on an errand for your neighbor, Draken knew that, a simple delivery. He checked your schedule yesterday, and he checked it again earlier today. So why weren’t you focusing on your task? Why were you going out of your way to help some nobodies again, exactly what they told you not to do?

The vein that had already throbbing away in his forehead was now on the verge of bursting when you saw fit to see them off with a friendly wave, and their reply to all of your your generous help was to fucking blush and blurt out hurried thank yous. Things that would have earned them a trip and long stay in the nearest hospital, but not anything that would be suitable to dish out in front of your innocent eyes. Draken was way past pissed, not just at them, but at you. Didn’t you know how hard your friends were working to keep you safe? Were you just spitting in their faces?

“Hey.” Hand shooting out to grab at your arm, fingers instinctively tightening around flesh like they always did in a fight, though the initial harsh grip he had all but crushing you quickly softened when you seemed to jump at the sudden onset of pain, panic clear on your face as you whirled around.

“I’m sor- oh! Ken-chin!”

The fear was quickly replaced with a smile as bright as the afternoon sun above, as if you hadn’t just ruined his entire afternoon, your cheeks flushed from the heat beating down on you. And the sight of your cheer was somehow enough to calm him down from his rage. Draken could never stay mad at you for long - not you of all people, with those doe eyes shining up at him. Instead opting to toss a mask at you (one of those things that he always carried around for this sort of emergency), you obediently slipped it on without question, by now probably used to your friends’ weird tendencies and habits when it came to being out and about you.

“You ready? Come on,” was all the golden-haired boy with the dragon tattooed told you. And you unquestioningly slipped your hand into his offered one, allowing your tall friend to lead you down familiar roads, Draken making sure to escort you straight to your errand’s endpoint (a friendly old man who ran a small corner store the boys frequented) and then back home, only pausing to send off a quick text to Mikey about his disrupted patrol. His hands still itched for a pummel, but not that you knew of course, simply glad for the company, and you waved him off from the porch of your house with a pack of his favorite snack.

‎

It was only that fateful afternoon, for the very first time, that something stirred deep in the guts of your six self-proclaimed closest (and only) friends, a feeling that the boys soon discovered all of them shared. Before, with your classmates and your other little misadventures, it had been an easy fix to hoard your attention and your time for themselves. But they knew this far-from-little issue you had had always ran deeper than these surface-level interactions that they watch play out again and again - you were too naive, too fragile, too nice to live without them. Unable to stop yourself from helping any random scum you came across, unable to stop trying to find “new friends” you didn’t need and who were likely to take advantage of you and your kindness. They were your friends first after all, and they were the only friends you needed. They alone deserve all of your time and your care and your love - a finite supply that wasn’t to be shared with the undeserving. You needed their protection more than ever.

“A gang?” The six boys watched carefully as your expression fell, the mix of worry and confusion they had been expecting showing in those doe eyes of yours as if on cue. “Is that…um… dangerous?”

The night had started off as what seemed like just another regular weekend night, one of many they spent hanging out in the shade of Musashi Temple, sheltering from the light drizzle pattering the stone tiles just a few steps away from where you seven sat, munching on snacks and discussing the day’s events like you did every other week. But the mood had instantly shifted when Mikey had tried to slide the topic by you.

“Well,” Pah scratched at his ear. “Yes, but so are other gangs.”

“Other gangs?”

Baji slapped him on the back of his head, having spotted the wince Pah missed. “What Pah meant,” the black-haired boy shot the other a dirty look as he continued, though Pah simply ignored him. “Is that there’s a big gang that’s been harassing us. Black Dragons, Kazutora lives on their territory.”

Your gaze shot to Baji, the anxiety now written all across your face as you made to stand. “Harassing? Are you boys safe? Should we go to the police?”

It was Baji’s turn to get slapped on the back of his head, this time by Draken, who only tsked when the other choked on the onigiri he had just bitten into.

“No, no, we’re fine,” Mitsuya placated, tugging you back down. “But it’ll be safer for us to have a gang to fight back rather than trying to take them on individually.”

That was technically the truth, that the Black Dragons contributed to their decision - well, it was a partial truth, but there was no lie. They hated to ever have to lie to innocent, little you.

Yet at the same time, it wasn’t exactly the whole truth. Sure the announcement seemed out of the blue, impulsive even, with the way the idea was slid almost casually into their conversation. Yet the decision had already been made a few nights before on the true impromptu suggestion from Baji, and an equally unplanned unanimous agreement from the rest, away from the presence of your eyes and ears. But you didn’t need to know the whole truth anyways, just enough to convince you to willingly accept the protection of their new gang. And the night you agreed was what made the gang as official to them as it was to you.

“So does that mean I can jo-”

“No.” The newly crowned gang leader cut you off before you could even finish your question, those abyss eyes turning to fix on your gaze.

You cocked your head in confusion. “No?” You echoed. “Why not?”

“You can’t join.” Mikey pursed his lips stubbornly as the others shuffled their feet nervously, their silence only unknowingly adding to the tension they felt weighing on their shoulders. “I won’t let you. What if you get hurt?”

“But it sounds fun,” You pouted, yet they knew instantly that wasn’t the biggest of your concerns - knowing you, it was the all what-ifs running through your head, you probably thinking you could somehow stop your friends from getting hurt, stop them from unnecessary fights. The mere thought of that was enough to warm their hardened delinquent hearts, though feel-good thoughts didn’t work either on this boy. There was no standoff though as Kazutora had initially feared; you instantly caved, throwing your hands into the air in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

“So you won’t join, right?” Draken clarified, and you nodded contentedly, a light smile as you leaned back against the old wooden beam.

“You can be an honorary member!” Kazutora immediately blurted out, unable to keep the relief from flooding through his veins, as the others burst into cheers, throwing their arms around you and pulling you into side hugs, pumping the snacks they were holding into the air. The most dreaded part of this entire operation was now history, and with you behind their decision, everything else was trivial in comparison.

Now, even the duo-colored haired boy couldn’t say exactly why he had been so worried to begin with. You were you, after all, and you were happy just to be included in this new exciting venture with your true friends, accepting the honorary member status with equal eagerness and glee. Laughing as you waved away their assurances about how it was as good as being a full member, or how they just wanted to keep you safe by not involving you in their fights, or even how you would have your very own version of their uniform, your giant smile told them all they needed to know as you ruffled and combed your fingers through their hair. You seemed just glad not to be left out.

“You boys… haven’t decided on a logo yet? Not even a name?”

Draken ruffled your hair as he dug into an onigiri. “We were waiting on you, punk.”

And for the rest of the new founders, now with you happy and safe under their protection, the Tokyo Manji gang burst onto the scene like a storm.

‎

Mikey’s birthday was one of those events that you had been expecting for a long time yet still surprised you when it finally did pop up on your calendar. You had pondered here and there about presents, but hadn’t quite come to any particular conclusion as to what to get someone like Mikey - maybe a bunch of taiyaki? Everything you could think up felt simply too normal for such a special occasion, and you instead decided to crowdsource an opinion.

A humid and hot afternoon, combined with the lack of the slightest trace of wind, had resulted in a lazier and needier than usual boy, though you were always glad to indulge Kazutora during his lunches with you as you did with everyone else. Relaxing the shade of an overpass and sheltered from the brutal heat, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to find the duo-colored hair delinquent cuddled in your lap, burying his face into your soft thighs while you run one hand through his hair, humming along as your friend blabbered about anything and everything that came to mind in between his whines for you to keep up the hair stroking. But the peace was momentarily broken when he brought up the issue of Mikey’s birthday and present.

“So I’mma steal a bike for Mikey.” Kazutora announced proudly. You had to admit his idea was on the surface sound and logical - you had known that Mikey came back from one of those road trips the boys went on without his precious moped, but you hadn’t been willing to prod too much into what happened, not with how vacant his eyes had been. But still -

“Absolutely not.” You chided lightly, lifting one hand to flick the middle of his forehead and break his train of thoughts. Kazutora’s gaze instantly flew to meet yours upon impact, clear confusion swirling behind his sandy brown eyes.

“Wha-” No matter how sure you were about the little flick that hurt you a lot more than your delinquent friend, it didn’t stop the tears from starting to swell up at the corner of his eyes. You’ve never raised a hand against any of them before. Ever. So why him? “T-that hurts.”

You steeled your heart as best you could in the face of his upset, though the sight of his reddening cheeks felt like a stab in your chest. All you could do was truly hope that he understood your intention, that he didn’t hate you for what you were doing. “Felonies would hurt a lot more, I would think. You are absolutely not going to steal a motorcycle.”

“B-but Mikey needs a bike! And bikes need to be handed down to us by seniors… they cost so much!”

That was also true, yet at the same time, there was no way you could just let your dear friend waltz off into the night and get himself into unknown heaps of trouble. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you did, and you knew that.

Yet, you still paused before you answered. You knew what needed to be done, but the niggling doubt almost broke free from the back of your mind where it had been banished. Could you really? It was a whole motorcycle - not just some handicraft you could pop into a store to get some materials and knock something out in a few days. A bike would mean the world to Mikey though, you knew that, even with the what-ifs - you found yourself speaking before you could finish thinking. “I’ll get him a bike.”

The unexpected confidence took both you and Kazutora aback. “You?” The boy carefully echoed.

You forced out a firm nod before you could attempt to backtrack at the heavy responsibility, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes, me. I will do it.”

Though you weren’t quite done with this particular topic, the severity of your gaze unlike anything else you had ever dared level at your friends. “Promise me you’ll not go through with the plan to steal a bike.”

And a visibly frightened Kazutora quickly complied, the implication of not doing so carried wordlessly by the wind. “I-I promise I won’t steal a motorcycle for Mikey.”

“Promise promise?”

He held up his pinky finger. “Promise promise.” You took it.

Now armed with the verbal promise, the scary gaze quickly faded away - the few minutes of being that serious had already completely drained you, your fingers starting to thread through silky hair.

Tugging at the shirt of your school uniform, the flood gates opened once more as tears once more ran down his cheeks, Kazutora rubbing at where you had struck him earlier. “I-it hurts-s, I want kisses.”

“Okay, okay.” You finally relented. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

‎

You were truly glad that your friends had stopped you where they did you mused, as you rounded yet another corner, the sky above having already been dark for several hours.

Even though you had given yourself extra lead time, and with blood pumping and excitement in your chest building, the week building up to D-day turned out to be anything but fun. Well, you did kind of expect that to be fair. Your friends, probably already having guessed what you were attempting, had barred you from anything to do with Mikey’s party, insisting that you focused on your present. Yet everyday still seemed like the longest day, and you stopped keeping track of where the sun was in the sky as school and work blended together. With your phone constantly ringing in your ears, and you always being on the move, the hours seemed to drag on forever, tracking every lead you have on a bike that Mikey would be proud to own. At the same time, the days seemed to wash by like water down your favorite river, peacefully slipping by one suffering minute at a time. It was endless hell running from place to place, and the phone calls from your various old clients with tip offs kept coming.

Your routine had all but gone out the window as you struggled to keep your searching a secret from Mikey; sleeping just the bare minimum of hours at night before heading to school, followed by spending your arranged time with the boys and rushing to and fro errands, before finally being able to restart your search when the sun disappeared from the overhead sky. Under the yellow overhead streetlights that lined quiet roads, and the biting cold wind that ate at your skin, you found yourself in places that you never expected to visit; those little alleyways that wound behind city buildings, speaking with people you never expected to speak to. Thankfully, everything turned out well for you, with every person you came across being polite and kind, pointing you in the right directions, until you finally, finally, had something you could work with. An older model of bike for sure, but the engine was good (or at least that was what he assured you), and the bike rode fine. And it even came with an unexpected surprise, the previous owner agreeing to sell it to you for cheap - just fifty thousand yen, which was all you managed to save up despite taking more jobs - in return for some mild favors, which you happily agreed to.

‎

The bike was rough, very rough. Even if you did find exactly what you were looking for, the peeling leather and spotted metal was a clear indication even to inexperienced eyes just how many more hours of work laid ahead of you. You couldn’t lie about that, not even to yourself nor to the clock ticking down to the minutes to your absolute deadline. Yet there was no denying the pride swelling in your chest as you carefully wheeled your prize back to your small garage, amusement pulling soft lips up at how the motorcycle seemed to look even worse under the bright white lights that hung low from the ceiling. At least it started, right?

Retrieving a small case of tools, a heap of towels, and a beginner’s manual to motorcycles that had seen better days, you got to work. Just five days left, and at this point, you weren’t sure if you would make it.

Cross fingers.

Pulling every string and connection you had painstakingly built with every errand ran, it was still a race against the clock to get the various bits and pieces you needed customized to perfection. You even skipped an entire day of school (secretly of course, Mikey couldn’t find out) just to rush to the edge of town to pick up some expedited parts for your build. Bicycle skidding to a halt, you found the store owner seated in the doorway of his unlit shop, cigarette lazily held in one hand, a cloth-wrapped bundle by his side. Gaze rising to meet yours as you ran the last few steps, he carefully handed over your order, brushing aside the canvas to reveal its package to you. “Here’s your part. Lucky I had one spare lying around.”

Your mouth o-ed as you gaped at your reflection in the perfectly glazed metal, and you were sure that your eyes were all but sparkling when you looked up. “It’s amazing! Thank you for rushing it, ojisan!”

“Oji- hey! I’m not that old!” The older black-haired man spluttered indignantly, though the small smile he was sporting told you otherwise.

You laughed as you ran off, fuel tank cover tucked neatly under one arm, waving at the store owner with your other. “See you later, ojii-san!”

‎

A few hours later, and you were ready to throw the wrench you had been holding out the window and bash your head into the wall, the light and warmth of the sun having long been replaced with the cheeky glimmer of moonlight and the cool breeze. How could replacing a single part be this difficult? Letting out an exaggerated sigh, you instead opted to allow the metal tool to slip to the ground with a clatter, bringing both hands up to rub at weary eyes. This entire endeavour had been a lot tougher than you had imagined, and this stupid manual did little to explain what you needed to do despite it claiming to be for beginners.

“Goddamn book,” you grumbled. You did have one out of course - you really hated to bother him more than you needed to, even if the former owner of the motorcycle had given you his blessing to call him whenever necessary - but this was truly an emergency. There was no way you were ever going to figure this out yourself. Picking up your phone, you took a deep breath.

A ring, two rings, and then the call connected.

“Hey! Sorry for calling this late.” You paused, sneaking a glance at the small clock balanced carefully on the edge of one shelf. “Were you asleep?”

“If I was, I’m not anymore am I? What’s up?” Came his familiar bemused voice over the phone, and you swore you could see the twinge of his lips carried in that soothing tone. Yet despite him not sounding the least bit sleepy to you, his soft breathing accompanied by the occasional clinging of metal against metal in the background that suggested some sort of workshop, you couldn’t quite shake the twinge of guilt that settled on your chest. How could you keep imposing on someone that already helped you so much?

“Sorry for disturbing you again um - I’ll hang up- ”

But he cut you off before you could finish, the sudden rise in volume had you wincing slightly. “No!” A deep inhale, before the boy on the other end continued, his voice once more even and low. “No no, it’s fine, you’re not a bother at all. I told you not to apologize so much right? It’ll get you in trouble some day.”

“Sorry.” You couldn’t help but blurt out again, your hand quickly flying up to slap your mouth in horror when you realized what you did - you were sure that the clap of flesh was clearly audible through the phone along with your mortification.

A chuckle, and then a creak; and that was all it took to distract you from the start of a downward spiral of anxiety. You could almost just imagine the boy on the other side of the line leaning forward in his chair, elbows pressed down on his thighs, phone propped against one ear. You couldn’t quite pinpoint why the mental image made your cheeks flush and burn, but you quickly brushed those particularly intrusive thoughts aside when his voice echoed across the phone again. “So why’d ya call?”

“Oh! Um-” You startled, nearly dropping the manual you had propped open in your lap when you tried to shift backwards on the small stool you were perched on, one slim finger running down the page in a hasty attempt to recall which part of the complex text you had been stuck at for the past hour. “It’s a bit silly, but I’m stuck at changing the oil filter.”

“The oil filter?”

“Yeah, the manual only - wait,” Flipping the page back and forth failed to materialize any of the information you actually needed, and you sighed as you let the page drop. “The manual only says you need to change it, but not where it is or how. I have a new one with me, but I’m super stuck.”

There was no reply to your question, your phone instead picking up the sound of hurried whispers that you couldn’t make out, followed by a few soft creaks of metal. His voice suddenly booming back over the speaker almost gave you a heart attack, but he did at least bring good news. “The oil filter’s at the bottom of the bike, near the front wheel. Do you have a torque wrench? The bit should be - uh - hexagonal-ish.”

“Let me check,” You sighed out, turning to fumble inside your toolbox with only the vaguest idea of what that particular tool looked like. This was going to be a long night.

Long, as you found out, was in fact a generous term for those few days (and nights) leading up to Mikey’s birthday. Because when D-day finally rolled around and the last bolt was tightened into place, it was pure relief that swept through your veins, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything more than drag your exhausted self straight up to bed and collapse into the inviting soft bed and pillows, only pausing to switch into a clean shirt. You fell asleep before your head hit the pillow.

But alas there was no rest for the wicked, and peace was not meant to be. Because boy did D-day start off with a bang. Literally. You were jolted awake from your sleep by the cry of your ringtone, and you fumbled for the device screaming away without a care from your bedside table. “H-hello?”

Your name was hollered through the speaker, barely audible against the rumble of engines and the very distinctive, very unmistakable sound of police sirens, and you immediately sat up. “Pah?! What happened?”

There was a scuffle as the phone was seemingly passed to another of your friends. “We got in a fight, but the police were especially fast today,” Draken laughed out, the wind zipping past him making him sound a thousand miles away. “Can we hide out at yours?”

“Garage’s open,” you replied automatically, and then the roar of engines flaring up before the call cut. Thank goodness past-night you had the foresight to hide Mikey’s present away when you were done, the bike tucked neatly and securely in a corner no one would think to look at (behind a shelf of books that is). One quick breakfast later, and you were off to school, content with letting your friends hang around - it was a strange choice all things considered to attend classes on this special day, given you had skipped out for less. But you had your reasons, and your classes were spent with your head nestled in your folded arms, fast asleep behind propped up books, attempting to claw back as much of your lost sleep as you could - today definitely wasn’t a day you wanted to accidentally fall asleep on. Never again, you swore, the all-nighters you had pulled repeatedly now back to haunt you.

As it turned out, your choice of small naps in school throughout the day was actually the right one, given how you were instantly ambushed when you returned home in the afternoon, the cloudy overhead sky seemingly out to taunt you with the ideal napping weather.

Your front door slammed open, the eager figure of Kazutora already halfway out before he could finish his sentence. “You’re back! Let’s go already!”

“H-huh? Wai-” Thrown over his shoulder and rushed off to your garage before you could blink, you found yourself being unceremoniously dumped into the passage seat of a bike and whisked off to god-knows-where despite never quite having the opportunity to set your bag full of books down, your Toman friends’ motorbikes filling every of your senses even as your head whirled with your lack of sleep and the quick pace of events. Didn’t stop your laughter from bubbling up and over though, as the chilly, blinding winds that tore at your eyes and ears woke you straight back up.

Somehow, someway, the entire day’s plan went off without a hitch. Entertaining Mikey had really been as easy as Draken had said, the boy overjoyed at being dragged from cafe to carnival and back to cafe, everyone having pitched in to spoil Mikey with all his best-loved foods and activities. You don’t think you’ve seen a person eat as many taiyakis in one sitting before today, though you only ruffled blond hair when he was finished - a birthday’s a birthday after all. And when night time fell, a very stuffed gang indeed rolled up to their favorite hangout on the bank of the lazy river, where you had secretly peeled away earlier to hide your present nearby. The weather was somehow amazing despite your initial worries of rain - the sky full of gray clouds that had been threatening to pour all day had finally moved along nicely - and the full moon had emerged from its cover of clouds.

‎

You certainly assumed that you were being sneaky Mikey mused, following your back fade into the dark of the night from the corner of his eye as you attempted to tiptoe away from the group as best you could. Yet even with the rest of his five friends trying their best to cover for you and him being faced almost completely away from you, there was no way he would let you waltz off that easily - you were the safest with him after all.

Yet it seemed that his crafty agenda (or so he thought at least) was discovered almost as quickly as Mikey made it up, Mitsuya immediately stepping between Mikey and his view of you.

“Shut up, I know you know.” The lilac haired boy whispered urgently under his breath, following that up with a quick slap to the back of Mikey’s head when he failed to release you from his gaze despite you throwing a cautious look backwards. “Just play along idiot.”

“Fine, fine.” He grumbled, finally allowing abyss eyes to drift from you to focus on the sight of Pah laughing alongside Kazutora. For all his curiosity on your comings and goings, Mikey wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you got sad over your little surprise being ruined.

Turning his attention back to the group, even the whoops and cheers of the rest of his friends as they set off sparklers didn’t quite mask the sound of new rubber creaking and rubbing against pavement as you fiddled with something behind his back, though Mikey was doing everything he could not to turn around. Just a few more minutes, the boy mentally chided himself, and he was on his last leg of self control when finally, finally - the moment everyone had been waiting for.

A pop of streamers, and he was forcibly whirled around to face you and his unknown present.

‎

“Happy Birthday from all of us, Mikey!” You laughed out, the barely held back excitement clear in your eyes as you tossed off the beige coverings with a flourish. And from under the seemingly plain canvas, the moonlight scattered across the polished surface of a gleaming CB250T.

The Toman insignia shone proud, a blaze of gold that popped out against the gloss black of the custom built fuel tank, somehow catching the light of the overhead streetlamp despite every inch of the motorcycle being equally cleaned and polished to perfection. The silver of the frame contrasting against the matt black of new tires, the brand of ‘Kamikaze’ across the front of the bike - it was clear that there was no shortage of love and attention, and a healthy amount of blood and sweat no less, that had been poured in to bring this present to reality. If he wasn’t busy gawking with his jaw dropped like an elementary schooler, Mikey was sure he would instead be occupied slapping himself silly trying to free himself from the dream he was sure he was trapped in. Because how could this be real?

Dropping the bike’s kickstand to allow it to stand free, you stepped back, the surge of anxiety having you bounce on your heels, fidgeting in vain to keep yourself calm waiting for a reaction. Did the boys like your work? Did Mikey like the bike? As the seconds ticked by undisturbed, you found yourself yearning more and more for just any reaction, your gaze flittering from one pair of eyes, the pounding of your heart away in your chest making it harder and harder to breathe. But for all the nervousness playing havoc on your mind in the single quiet moment before the storm, it seemed your worry was all for naught.

“Where did you- ” Was all Mikey could mutter out in the moment, stumbling forward to graze his fingertips across the cool metal, the streak of fingerprints left on previously unmarked areas only sealing that it was as real as him. Swinging round to take a brief glance at the rest of his now-oddly quiet friends, it was obvious that none of them were in the loop either, judging from the recognizable looks of astonishment reflected back at him, with Baji looking like he was on the verge of passing out, propping himself up against the safety rail.

Even Draken couldn’t seem to hold himself back from the tantalizing glimmer of moonlight in the pools of seemingly infinite darkness, his own black eyes swinging up to meet yours in shock. “Is that- ?”

You would be biting your nails at this point if your friends weren’t as vehemently opposed to the habit - it was getting harder by the second to suppress that particular urge. “D-do you like it?”

A moment of silence.

And then, absolute chaos - an onslaught as sudden and harsh as the unexpected wind that swept down along the small canal.

Letting out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding, your worry seemed a million miles away now as you leapt to throw your arms around an elated Mikey, allowing the blond-haired boy to bury his face into your chest even while you sent a secret wink at Kazutora. You did promise a bike that Mikey could be proud of come hell or high water after all, and the relief at being able to deliver was impalpable.

“Did you steal this?” Baji couldn’t help but blurt out in awe as he eagerly yanked Kazutora off the seat of the bike to have a go himself, asking the question everyone had already been thinking. “Where did you even get something like this from?”

“It’s a hand-me-down, I swear.”

The incredulous looks you got in response were clear enough that your friends didn’t need to put it into words, you laughing as you crossed your heart with a single delicate finger. “I swear, guys! Come on!”

“Must have crossed a fortune,” Draken muttered, squatting to take a look at the meticulously cleaned engine and the shiny pipes that made up the frame. “It looks new.”

You puffed up, a rare smug smile replacing the usual adorable one. “Previous owner upgraded recently or so I heard, I got it at an absolute steal! You should have seen the state it was in, I cleaned it up myself.”

“And the previous owner is…?” Mitsuya followed up, one eyebrow elegantly lifted as he watched his friends crawling all around the new toy.

“Can’t tell you that, I promised not to say. But it’s really a hand-me-down! Really!”

The Toman founders took your word for it - this was something they would never tell you about save you try to hide it from them, but you had a bad habit for wearing your entire heart on your sleeve, and the gleeful, shiny-eyed look you had gleaming from the depths of those wide eyes in the moment told them all they needed to know. You never lied to them before, and the boys had no reason to believe you would at a time like this either.

Grabbing the hanging keys from your smaller hand was child’s play, and so was wrestling a dumbfounded you into the back of the motorbike with a toothy smile. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Mikey roared, as party hats were quickly jammed onto everyone’s head and a helmet on yours. And off you went cheering into the quiet night, the goosebump-raising roar of motorbikes marking the start of the real celebrations.

‎

The next day, although a school day, had also been slated for the after-party celebration. One day was far from enough, and you did decide to skip class again, given it was the first birthday that you were celebrating with your friends. Though this still couldn’t quite explain why everyone decided that the best course of action to carry on the celebratory mood was to crash your house. That was how you found yourself with your friends strewn randomly, haphazardly across your bedroom floor, most of them opting for just a comforter thrown over the cool wooden floor, with only the birthday boy himself allowed to cuddle with you up in your bed, limbs tangled and face snuggled into your side. Why your house you suppose you would never find out you thought to yourself, considering that it was Mikey’s birthday and not yours. But you didn’t mind of course, not in the slightest, secretly pleased that they liked your place enough.

Or that was what you originally thought to yourself, until the group launched their unscheduled attack on you, now refreshed and determined to get answers from you on your earlier stunt. In your own room to boot.

‎

“Still not going to spill where you got the bike, huh?” Draken solemnly asked again, though you didn’t miss the mirth twinkling from behind his eyes or the amused quirk of the corner of his lips. You shook your head, only to quickly yip and try to wriggle away when Baji ran the feather you swore he pulled from your winter jacket up and down your foot, earning another round of giggles from you.

“W-wait! S-stop-p!” You squealed, and much to your relief, they did, allowing you to catch your breath for the first time in the past ten or so minutes of almost non-stop laughter.

“Gonna talk now?” Pah grinned, jokingly punching his hand.

“C-come on guys, I really-y-y - hehe - can’t tell you!” You pleaded almost tearfully, and the two boys who had been digging into your ticklish spots were already ready to cave, face with your watery eyes.

“Why not?” Kazutora chimed in, his head popping into your view from the side where he had been helping to keep one arm carefully pinned to the bed with his cheek.

“You know why! I promised!”

But Mikey had other ideas. “Guess we can’t stop then,” The blond-haired boy ordered, even as he turned his back on you to instead continue sucking on the lollipop you had given him earlier. “Carry on the punishment.”

“No waiiiiittt-“ Was all you could get out before the room once more filled with a symphony composed entirely from your hiccups and giggles and pleads for mercy, a joyful tune that didn’t fail to bring large smiles to all the boys’ faces as tears started to pour freely down your cheeks.

You still cooked them breakfast anyway.

‎

The thought of your non-answers faded from their minds as the days passed by even though they never did get the information they had been hunting for - not with the thrill of finally being able to roar down city and country streets alike together a top speed, Mikey’s new ride a fierce black and silver against the dull gray of paved roads, you whooping from the passenger seat. You had never lied to them, and your friends were more than willing to give you the benefit of their doubt this time, trusting that you really did just happen across someone wanting to pass down his CB250T. Even the registration and licenses matched up, with you having made the transfer in ownership to Mikey earlier on in secret before gifting the bike, although no amount of digging around seemed to give up the identity of its previous owner. You really did a good job with hiding your tracks, and the boys had to admit they were somewhat proud.

But despite your Toman friends hoping for these good times to never end, their honeymoon period came to an unexpected screeching halt.

“I still think there’s someone else in the picture,” The duo-colored boy grumbled bitterly, sandy brown eyes turned up at the empty sky. It was clear the incident that had played out just earlier that afternoon was still living rent-free in his head, the bite in his tone hard to miss for the other five gathered round. They knew what he was referring to, given it ran its course right after a fantastic lunch shared in the shade of an underground passage a stone’s throw from your home.

“Sorry boys, gonna have to pass for today.”

Those few words had been enough to catch the attention of the entire group, and six pairs of eyes instantly whirled round to land squarely on you. “B-but you always ride with us!” Baji protested, knuckles whitening as his hand tightened around his personalized bento box, the plastic creaking slightly under the force of his grip. Were you hiding something from them?

“I’ll let you ride with me,” Mikey offered, though even that wasn’t enough to sway you despite the bike being the same one you had poured your blood and sweat into, and you shook your head. It was the first time you had ever done that to your friends, let alone on a day as ideal as this for a ride - hot sun and a cool breeze that blew away any trace of sweat.

“It’s strange I know, but I have something I need to do.”

“I’ll come with you!” Kazutora immediately piped up, as he scooted forward to make room for you to ride passenger on his bike, patting the seat behind him. “It’s faster on a bike, right?”

But you only laughed, turning his offer down as sweetly as you always had, as if you weren’t shattering his whole world with your response. “It’s alright Kazutora! I won’t be long. You shouldn’t miss riding with the rest because of me.”

“Where’re you going?” Draken’s unusually serious gaze bore into you, though you simply waved it off.

“A small errand I have to do. They helped with Mikey’s bike, so I’m just returning the favor.”

“One errand?”

“Mmm! Just this once, I promise.” That smile you always had never fell as you hopped the few steps away from the group of bikes. “I’ll be back before you boys realize it!” And then you were gone, disappeared round the bend in the road, a skip in your step and a tune under your breath.

But your eyes had shone with the same sincerity as always when you waved them off from the porch of your house, arms laden with empty boxes, promising to prepare a snack when they returned. And you did as you promised. They weren't sure exactly when you reached home, but the hot, piping snack was ready on your dining table when they returned.

“Drop it, Kazutora.” Mikey drawled, tossing the wrapper of his lollipop into the bin behind him without a glance backwards, before stuffing the sweet into his mouth.

In the eyes of the group, there was no reason to push this issue any further with you - you told them what you were doing and why you were doing it. Besides, their hands were full as it is, with Toman’s strength swelling in size far more rapidly than they had previously anticipated. Too distracted between organizing new members and beating rivals, they were more than willing to let this seemingly one-off event slide. You wouldn’t do anything horrendous to your treasured friends would you?

‎

But then it happened again.

It always was the best day of the week when you appeared from the front gates of your school, bags of bento boxes slung over both arms.

“What’s for lunch?” Pah all but demanded, attempting to poke one grabby hand into the lunch bag, though it was quickly swatted away by Mitsuya, whose offer of help to alleviate your burdens was accepted.

You usually ate with at least one of them at lunch, but with the growing Toman and responsibilities that came with it, sunny afternoons like these were one of the few consistent times that you could see everyone together. Heading to the group’s favorite alleyway a stone’s throw from your school gates, you spread out a small blanket in the shade of the tall brick-lined walls as the boys yanked their own boxes from your bags, recognising their lunch by the furoshiki you always wrapped them in.

“Wait - fuck! That’s mine, asshole!”

One by one, the tops were cranked open, and the boys dug in. Yet even after all the various members of the group had their personal boxes, and putting yours aside on a space next to Draken, who you trusted to stop anyone attempting to have your lunch as well, you still had one box left in the bag.

“Ya counted wrong or something?” Pah-chin pointed at the remaining box, a confused look replacing the previous excited one on his face. “Ya brain turning to mush too?”

“Maybe it is all the studying getting to my head, Pah-chin.” You beamed, ruffling his tuft of hair slightly before carefully lifting the last box free and into the sunlight for the first time, the bento wrapped carefully in what seemed like a new furoshiki that none of them recognised - a crane print one with the elegant birds locked in an eternal dance on the silky cloth. “You boys go ahead, I’ll just drop this off and be right back.”

Before anyone could ask or even follow you, you were gone, leaving your friends alone and bewildered. What was going on?

You were cooking for someone else now? Wasn’t your cooking only for them? For your closest and dearest friends? Was this related to the previous time you flaked on their ride?

Judging from the irked looks being pulled across the faces of the various members, these incidents could no longer be overlooked. With no other way around it, your friends resolved to speak to you and help get your priorities straight. Even if you weren’t doing it on purpose, they couldn’t risk having you risking your safety through seeing someone else that they haven’t vetted. Or even worse, making new friends with literal strangers. You were bound to be taken advantage of with how kind and naive you were, and they must protect you from the harshness of the world.

And if you didn’t listen to them, well, that was an issue that they would deal with within their own world.

But alas, it seemed things were not meant to be that day, and the Toman founders instead found themselves being jumped by a group of delinquents in a uniform they didn’t recognise as they were steeling themselves for the talk. Already thirsting for blood - anyone’s blood at this point - their plan to corner you about your little side adventures was all but forgotten as your six friends flew into action under the shadow of the alley walls, the crunch of bones quelling their annoyance at being disrupted.

Noses were broken, guts were punched, and the newest Toman members were sent packing with their tails between their legs. Returning to a sight of the boys nonchalantly helping themselves to and finishing up your lunch, you could only bring yourself to only feel at most slightly annoyed at the empty box you returned to. Settling for just a sigh and a tutt, and sitting yourself down next to Draken so you could lean on him as support, you munched away at the sandwich you packed in case of emergencies like these as the rest laughed and joked and teased. You could never get angry at your friends.

And so life went on for you.

‎

It had been days since then, and tonight so happened to be one of those nights that Baji found himself once more unable to sleep. Maybe it was the hot and humid night, one of those where the wind was nowhere to be found and all he could feel was the sweat building up and pouring down his forehead, where even the stale breeze kicked up from riding full speed on his motorcycle didn’t seem to help. Or maybe it was the bright full moon that shone directly into his window, the light of which he couldn’t get out of his head. Whatever it was, the fact remained that Baji couldn't sleep, and even after winding up and down familiar empty city streets, he somehow found himself back on his street just further down the road, near where you lived.

These sort of nights always seemed to lead him back to you. He knew you wouldn’t mind if he crashed for a bit. A hot drink and a few of your tired blinks and yawns might be the cure he needs to rid himself of this restlessness. Maybe you’ll even let him crash with you for the night; perhaps your arms wrapped tight around him was just what he needed to sleep. The street in front of your house was always quiet at this time of the night - your neighbors were run-of-the-mill families who had work and school to wake for after all - and the only sounds that dared to break the silence as Baji tracked down the lifeless street was the flickering of bulbs overhead and the occasional chirp of crickets.

Or at least so Baji thought, pushing his bike along until your house finally appeared over the curve of the horizon. And there you were, standing in front of your house when you should have been asleep. Yet before he could call out to you, ask you what you were doing up so late past your bedtime, his voice died away when he saw your delicate hands wrapped around a helmet that didn’t look familiar, to the side of a bike that didn’t look familiar.

Illuminated by the light of the full moon behind you, Baji watched as you handed over the helmet shimmering in the night, your lips moving as you muttered something that he couldn’t hear. And then someone accepting it from you, a boy - his hands lingering on yours for an unacceptable amount of time before moving to hang the helmet loosely from his handlebar.

What was this he was seeing? What was this supposed to be? You didn’t even seem to notice Baji, one of your oldest friends, standing right here, the look of disbelief smeared clearly across his face, white knuckles still clutching the handlebars of his motorcycle even as he tried to force himself to move. Towards you? Away from you? Anything but this. Just let go and move, he screamed at himself from the confines of his mind, chapped lips mouthing nonsensical words.

But all Baji could do was stand and stare, his body frozen for reasons beyond him. And the worst part? Their eyes met. Just for a moment as that piece of garbage looked up and away from you, turning to glance down both sides of the street, but he saw, and he knew. He knew Baji was watching. The absolute bastard, who knew he was standing right there, leaned in close and caught your lips in a quick peck, before pulling away. And in that moment, under the yellow light of the overhead streetlamp, Baji watched your face flush, your hand moving up to touch your lips - in shock or horror he couldn’t tell. Or in love.

But that jerk wasn't done. As if he hadn't defiled your sweet face enough, his filthy fingers moved to run through your hair in what seemed like nothing more than a mocking copy of the heavenly way you ran your fingers through Baji's, gently tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. And then turning in Baji’s direction to toss him one last smug grin as that bastard finally sauntered off, bike roaring into the hush night, all he could do was watch you - with his own two eyes - shly wave off that shitstain, before you turned and retreated into your house, a skip in your step.

Toman’s first division captain was bad at remembering a lot of things at school - math formulas, geography, whatever boring words his teachers had to say much to the anguish of his mum - but this was the one thing he would never forget. The face of this lesser-than-garbage who dared to steal his friend away that was now burned into the back of his eyelids. What were you thinking? How could you associate with criminal scum? Who knows what he has done with those foul hands of his that he touched you with so casually?

Now, more than ever, Baji couldn't bear to leave you alone without them, to be alone without you, and so he forced himself to wait right there, hands still firmly on the handlebars, his bike resting on his waist. Minutes ticked by, one painful minute at a time, or maybe they did. The breeze had picked up between then and now; it was now a harsh, biting wind that tore at his eyes and tossed his hair. His brain was screaming at him to report this - the boy simply knew he had to let the rest know - yet all he could numbly think about as he stood underneath the streetlamp, white noise buzzing in his ears, was how much he just wanted to check up on you.

He waited until he could not, his bare hands freezing on his handlebar, until he was sure it had been long enough between that dickbag leave and him arriving. Your spare key was where you had always left it, where it had always been: tucked away in a soft cotton pouch behind a loose wooden panel in the wall. Stopping his bike inside your heated garage, the warmth on his numb body was but a temporary relief, his last refuge before he had to face the storm. The turmoil in his gut only grew and grew with every step he took towards your front door. Baji hesitated, his fist resting on your door for a few moments, the turmoil within him too much for just a moment, before he finally moved to rap his knuckles.

Hearing you sing out "Coming!" from up top, something about that cheerful note hit him wrong. Unable to pinpoint what it was that he felt in that moment, Baji couldn't help the tears that started welling up, even when he tried to force his indiscernible feelings back down. Was it seeing you happy with someone else? Was it your continued cheer even after you betrayed your friends for a stranger?

And it was to his mournful face that you opened to, Baji immediately stumbling in, wrapping his arms tight around you, burying his face into your chest, the tears he couldn’t stop wetting the soft shirt you had on for the night.

“Baji?” You didn't seem surprised - you never did - simply standing still and allowing him to bawl his eyes out on your front step, wrapping your arms around him, gently stroking the back of his head and humming quietly to him. “You okay?”

He didn't even need to ask to stay; you bundled him into your room, your comforting arms wrapped around him as you ushered him to the low coffee table he knew so well. “Sit, okay? I’ll be right back.” Your low voice seemed to linger in your still bedroom as you disappeared out the door, leaving Baji frighteningly alone with his own thoughts.

And you were; with two mugs of hot chocolate in hand, the two of you silently sharing a drink in the darkness of your room, with only the occasional sniffle and the whistle of wind through your open window breaking the silence. You weren't like that, was what rolled through Baji's mind, as he crawled exhausted into your bed, you tucking him in under your sheets tight before turning in for the night yourself, the two empty mugs left neatly on your table to wash the next day. You wouldn't cheat on your friends- and definitely not your best friends, he tried to reassure himself, as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his head into your chest, your hand coming to rest on the top of his head. You were too kind for that, his eyes flickered close as your breathing evened out. So why didn't he believe that?

Sending off the nightmare scene he had witnessed was Baji’s first priority as soon as his eyes popped open, the black-haired boy guiltily reaching over for his phone even while you snoozed on undisturbed. This was something he should have done the previous night, but no one could quite fault him for this delay; the mere thought of you seeing someone else, maybe even having a boyfriend, it almost broke the boys. Panic mode, armageddon, there didn’t seem to be a word that could quite encompass the instant turmoil.

This wasn't something they expected. It wasn't in the calculations. They weren't prepared. When did this happen? Your Toman friends thought they made sure to scare off any that had even the most remote chance of stealing you away from them. Was he where you got Mikey’s bike? Was this the favor and strings you pulled? How long have you been seeing him?

Despite the emergency this new development had plunged them into, the boys had still planned for their initial inquiry to be gentle. You were delicate, and your emotions even more so; they didn’t want to scare you off by coming on too strong or throw around false accusations that would drive you away. Maybe just a few quick questions weaved in between ordinary conversation about who that guy was and what was his relationship with you. Something that wouldn’t catch your attention too much while they investigated more behind the scene. But all their plans went out the window when Kazutora, unable to contain himself, with jealousy and anger written clearly across his face and burning in his gaze, stormed up to you the next morning. “Who was that?” He demanded, though his voice quivered and his eyes started to water. “Who was that bastard last night?”

‎

You didn’t deny it.

And the dam broke, with the rest of the group all but swarming you, each bearing their envy and resentment in their own special way. But you didn't even flinch in the face of your friends' raging insecurities, allowing them to pull at your limbs and rant and seethe and pout at you. Draken and Mitsuya with their standoffish attitude, content with seething internally and throwing you dirty looks through narrowed eyes, Pah-chin and Baji getting louder and louder trying to convince you of something you couldn’t quite make out, and Mikey and Kazutora all but yanking at your arms, their silent pleading conveyed through their shiny eyes.

To a certain extent, you could say that you were used to this - they did act up like this occasionally, especially when they wanted time that you couldn’t give them. This round was definitely what counted as an escalated tantrum, but you couldn’t really blame them in the end. It was your fault for hiding this from them, and you did feel guilty. Yet at the same time, you couldn’t say for sure why they were reacting so harshly. Weren’t they glad that you made a new friend all by yourself?

“What’s wrong?” You soothed their grasping hands. “I don’t understand yet, but I’ll listen.” What was it about your newest friend that they didn’t like?

He was part of a different gang, they tried to tell you, as you stood there patiently, soothingly. Riding under a different banner, fighting for a different leader. A rival; to Toman, to them, and to you. “You can’t see him! He’s not Toman!” Mikey insisted. What if he was just using you to get to them? What if he hurts you? Couldn't you see that?

Trying your best to calm them down, you allowed them to pull at your shirt even as you ran your fingers through their hair, pulling others into a hug and into your lap even as you answered their questions. Yes he did ask you on a date in return for his help with the bike - or rather, in return for his bike, you thought to yourself - but it was nothing serious. He just wanted to know you better, and vice versa. Yes, you also knew he was part of a different gang, clear from the insignia of his bike, but he never did bring it up nor hang it over your head, so you didn't either. And no, you didn’t like him that way, and him being there was no way diminishing how important your friends were to you. Hell, you could even say outright that he was in no way as important to you as your friends.

‎

“Just let me give him a chance,” yet you continued to plead on behalf of what they saw as literal trash, refusing to let up and just compile like you always did before. “It’s nothing serious I swear. He won’t get in the way at all.”

Your street was busy as it always was at this time of the day, the rumble of cars and trample of feet as your neighbors returned home after a long day, having long learnt to ignore the mass of bikes and people gathered on the porch of your house. You couldn’t seem to understand what they were trying to tell you - it wasn’t just about the very limited time you had to spend with them and your priceless love and attention that this scumbag was stealing away from them. You - your entire self - was actively being taken away from them, and you didn’t even seem to fight it? Were you trying to leave?

“Then why?” Draken raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest in his clearest sign of displeasure.

You sighed, running one hand through your hair. “It was a promise I made, and you know I don’t like breaking promises. He helped a lot with your bike, you know.”

“I don’t care. I said no, and that means no.” Mikey huffed, brushing off the hand you had resting on his shoulder.

But you were still relentless, those doe eyes of yours shimmering with hope that they simply couldn’t understand. “Come on, you guys trust me, don’t you? Just this once, please? I promise I won’t do anything weird.”

They could do nothing but watch you thank them for their concern, waving a quick bye at them before disappearing into your house, a spring still in your step as if nothing wrong had happened. As if you hadn’t just tried to forsake whatever they had so painstakingly built for you for some stranger you didn’t know. They had failed you. You had failed them.

Where was your loyalty to Toman? To them?

With no other option open to them, it seemed that yet again, they had to take matters into their own hands no matter how much they rather not have to. It was all for your own good, of course - having to interfere in your personal life hurts them as much as it hurts you, watching your face twist with sorrow when you are abandoned yet again by what you had thought was a new friend. But your naivety, which had been what endeared you to them to begin with, was getting in the way of your usual steadfast logic and reasoning, and none of your friends was quite ready to see you lose that aspect that they loved so much. But as it was always the case when it came to you, it seemed that the six boys would have to be the one to step up and protect you once more, as friends should.

At least one small mercy granted by whoever was watching over you was that your new so-called friend was also a delinquent. And that carried with it the ability to settle things their way. You wouldn’t even complain either - you never did when they fought with other gangs after all, so why would this be different?

Toman, with its expanded membership and Mikey its unquestioned head, could theoretically easily keep you under watch throughout all hours of the day, but needless to say, its founding members were reluctant to let anyone else come close to you. No, they couldn’t risk it, not when you already showed your ability to wander off from them at a drop of a hat. Even if your friends did try their best to occupy as much of your time as they could, to the point of letting you dip your toes into their world, allowing you to sit at their meetings with the hope that if you saw just how dark, how violent their world and their rivals were, maybe it’ll open your eyes in a way their words couldn’t.

And while they waited for any signs of effectiveness, between the six of them, it was agreed that they would each take turns to watch you when you were away from their side. No actions were to be taken in front of you though - you didn’t need to see that side of them yet.

“Fuck, let go of me Ken-chin! I’ll kill him!” But that vow was almost already broken on the first day almost as soon as it had begun, starting with a near miss when Draken had to physically wrestle Mikey from leaving their little hideout and handing out one of his nuclear kicks. Two pairs of black eyes had watched in utter contempt as you gently rested your head on his shoulder, as if you already felt safe enough around this absolute stranger like you were around them. And the other just…let you. No brushing you off, no jerking back. Like how your Toman friends let you. Though all they could do was continue to watch as that dirtbag picked away at the bento you had made, wrapped in that same crane-printed furoshiki they have come to despise, when he suddenly put aside the box to pull you into his lap.

You giggled - giggled - when he rested his chin atop your head, arms wrapped around your waist, allowing you to swing your legs freely from where you were perched, the light breeze tossing your hair about, content with hand-feeding the jerk, your body language screaming nothing but being relaxed in his grasp. Mikey’s face was void of emotions when Draken finally let him go, long after you had left hand in hand with that jerk, but Draken recognised the wrath that blazed behind those eyes too well. It was, after all, a clear reflection of his own.

Similarly, Baji had to knock Kazutora straight out cold before he could outright shank the shitstain running their lives, your life, after having to spend an entire afternoon observing you hand feeding lunch to him. An afternoon that you had originally scheduled for errands, time that was theirs, now gone, instead devoted to entertaining a bastard that didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone bathe in your gentle gaze like they did.

Even Mitsuya, the most level-headed, laidback founding member of Toman, had been all but fuming by the end of his shift, his normal calmness gone, replaced with a cold fury that burned deep in his eyes as he stormed off past Pah-chin. Nails dug into his palms and an unbearable thirst for blood raging in his chest after spending an afternoon following you around at a fair, the usually calm lilac-haired boy wanting nothing more than to tear out and feast on the eyes of that imbecile you let kiss ice cream off your reddened cheek, fingers tightly intertwined with his.

You had been their stability from the start, the hidden glue that held Toman together. It had always been you. Being there for them through the ups and downs, steadily carrying and pushing them forward no matter what happened, soothing away their anger and frustrations. Without you there, silently cheering them on when they were victorious and comforting them when they weren't, none of them could say whether there would even be a Toman. But now with the road to leaving them behind in the past open to you, the world that they had wanted to build with you, for you, was threatening to crumble.

No. None of the six needed to speak, yet the singular thought echoed through each and every of their minds. You couldn’t possibly survive in this harsh and cruel world without them. Not kind, naive you. And they couldn’t fathom a life without you by their side. The Tokyo Manji Gang wouldn't allow this. And them, as your real friends, wouldn't allow this. You simply can’t leave.

This was war.

311 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

total opposites

You and Toge swap bodies after encountering a fairytale curse, and similar to its origin, it also takes a fairytale method to break it.

REQUEST. body swap au + best friends to lovers

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight crack fic, some cursing, implications of nsfw but nothing explicit, just Toge being a not-so closet pervert, usual best friend bickering, reader is fem bodied, unedited story (I should stop saying this, everyone knows I don’t edit my stuff)

NOTES. I enjoyed writing this, tysm for the request anon, this was really cute! definitely this is shooting up in one of my fav works ever (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

You stretched your arms overhead, feeling great after sleeping in. It wasn’t common of you to sleep this late, but you and Toge had gone stargazing the night before. A smile made its way to your face as you reminisced him reciting rice ball ingredients, signing that he was telling poetry to ‘match the mood’ until you’d both fallen asleep on the soft blanket atop a hill.

You don’t remember how you made it back to your room, but figured that Toge had carried you back home before the sun rose. Making a mental note to thank your best friend later, you yawned as you padded out to your room, hands rubbing in circles at your stomach.

Hopefully breakfast would be amazing today.

The door next to you opened, revealing your younger classmate, and you frowned, because wasn’t Kugisaki your next door neighbour? Well, whatever, he, Yuuji, and Kugisaki might’ve taken advantage of the rare, peaceful weekend that they probably had a movie marathon the night before.

“Morning, Megumi!” you greeted, coughing a bit when you sounded off, throat a little horse and itchy. At the sound of your voice, Megumi stilled in his tracks, eyes wide at you. His comical expression had you barking in laughter, shooting finger guns his way as you wiggled your eyebrows. “Ey, be a good dog and bark for me, will you?”

Semi-visible sonic waves drifted like waves after one another out your mouth. Megumi scowled before he froze the next second, ears perked up and backside wagging in replacement of a tail. “Woof woof!”

“What the hell?” you reeled back in slight disgust, your underclassman’s cheeks burning red. Then, your lips grazed against a soft cloth, making you look down.

You blinked back once. Twice. You were definitely...built different today. Curiously, you tugged at the zipper peaking out from your black collar, the familiar zhoop sound of the zipper burned into your memory after hearing your best friend do it countless times before.

In front of you, Megumi screeched – the most noise he’d made ever since you met him – his jaw dropped open while you – or rather Toge stood at the end of the hallway, his hands squeezing at your breasts that were still under last night’s pyjamas. You blinked back once. Then twice, steam pouring from your nose when Toge, in your body, pointed at his body.

“Oh, oh!” your scream bounced off the hallways hard enough that Panda slammed his door open, about to tell everyone to shut up when your voice let out a high-pitched scream.

“What are you doing in my body?!”

Looking down at where Toge was pointing, you were greeted by the sight of his dark uniform and sock clad feet, your chest replaced with hard muscles instead of the soft flesh. You turned to Toge with a stupefied look that mirrored his, both of you falling on the ground with fists pounding on the hardwood floor.

“I’m a fucking girl!” he cried out, whether out of happiness or frustration, it was hard to tell.

Meanwhile, you zipped his collar back up, tugging at his off-white hair as you forced yourself to remember his limited vocabulary. “BONITO FLAKES!”

Now you understood Toge’s frustration of being a cursed speech user.

“Bonito Flakes” definitely did not hold the same fury as “FUCK” did.

“You and I need to set down some boundaries,” you signed to him, brows pulled together. Toge seemed to be enjoying this sudden body swap a lot more than you did since he hadn’t stopped posing in the mirror the moment you pushed him back to your room, locking it shut to get some privacy. “You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to shower, do you understand?”

Toge scowled at your words, sassy as ever with his hands placed on his hips, buttocks jutted out. You hated, absolutely hated that he used your body this way because this time you couldn’t even laugh – not when seeing your body felt this awkward.

“You would really rather me stink?”

“You can’t undress too! Ever! Or if you will, your eyes better be closed. No peeking too!”

“Y/N, you and I grew up together. I’ve already seen everything,” he rolled his eyes, earning him a hard slap from the arm. Considering he was a lot more muscular than you were, your hit came a lot harder. “Ow!” he protested, rubbing the sore spot that ached, only to laugh at the sounds emitting from his lips. “Wow, I have to admit that this is really fun though. I’m actually talking,” he announced, “Hey, say salmon for me.”

“Bonito flakes!” you shook your head, “The moment Principal Yaga is back, we’re going to talk to him, okay? I don’t want to be stuck in your body any longer!”

“Please, you’re lucky you get to feel me up,” he winked at you, taking your (his) hands to flatten it on his stomach. “Come on, come on, feel my abs!” Whack. “Would you please stop slapping me? Your body is a lot more delicate than mine and my hands are – stop slapping me!”

Feeling bad for your friend and not wanting to abuse your body too much, you raised your hands in surrender with a roll of your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously with that voice. You’re too cute.”

“Complimenting ourselves now, aren’t we?” he scoffed, “Well, whatever, you are cute, especially when you’re angry. Such a shame I can’t see you do that right now because my handsome face is looking back at me.”

“I won’t hesitate to choke you, my friend.”

“You wouldn’t. You adore your body too much,” contrary to his words, Toge pulled a defensive stance. You threw a pillow at him, to which he easily dodged, clutching at the hem of your pyjamas afterwards. “Speaking of bodies, I really need to pee.”

“Hold it!”

“Are you insane? I’m not holding it, you’re going to kill us both!”

“Fine, I’ll take you to the rest room then,” you tugged at the hood of your shirt, pushing him inside the communal female restroom. Toge stood in the middle shock still, evidently flustered at the stalls and lack of urinals. You flicked a finger on his forehead, finger pointed to a stall. “Go pee. That’s my body – I need to make sure you’re not going to do anything weird with it.”

“I thought you trusted me, friend. Why would you think I’d touch you that way?”

You gave him an ‘are you serious?’ look. “You jack off every fucking night, Toge. I can hear you even from the next hallway. Plus, you’re a horny teenage male, who’s to say you wouldn’t be curious and try to see what female masturbation feels like?”

His eyes lit up at the idea, fist coming down to bounce at the palm of his hand as he nodded. “That’s actually a good idea—”

“Don’t you even dare.”

“What?!” you and Toge both exclaimed. He faced you with utter horror written on his face and you gasped, slapping both palms over your lips.

“It is true,” Principal Yaga affirmed with a grim look on his face. He’d recently got back to fetch your troublesome Gojo-Sensei who’d been caught starting a ruckus in Roponggi while women flocked around him, leading to your principal to haul his ass back to the school grounds. “Some curses are manifested through daily objects, and sometimes even through nature. That shooting star you saw was an example of that.”

“But is kissing really necessary?” Toge queried with a wary gaze sent your way.

“It’s a fairytale curse. It can only be broken through a true love’s kiss.”

“But sir, Toge and I have never dated anyone before. How can we miraculously fall in love with someone to break this curse overnight?”

“It doesn’t have to happen overnight. Sometimes, a simple crush will do,” Principal Yaga sighed, scratching his bald head with his face pulled deep in thought. “Y/N, you have a crush on Gojo-Sensei right? I’m going to kill him if he actually kisses you – and knowing that damn brat he might if you ask him – but I think a kiss on the cheek will suffice. For now, you both just have to...broaden your relationships. Maybe go out on dates.”

“I don’t mind that. In fact, I’m going to have the time of my life,” Toge cheered, his mood dampening once he saw you stiffen. “But my body is...”

Knowing full well that he’d get insecure over his lack of speech again, you glared at him hard enough that your best friend straightened up, lips puckered out in a pout as if you hadn’t just caught him talking badly about himself again when you’ve told him countless times he was perfectly fine the way he was.

It made you sigh, feeling slightly bad that until now he still couldn’t see himself the way you saw him – not that you’d ever vocalize this; Toge would never shut up (in the best way he could) if he had the slightest idea what went inside your head.

“You’re lucky you have a pretty face. Otherwise, it’s going to be impossible for anyone to like you,” you teased instead, somewhat flustered at your indirect compliment.

Toge merely scoffed at you, his gaze burning and hard, contrasting the teasing little shit grin he wore. “Oh, please, if I wasn’t the cursed speech user, I would’ve banged—”

“Kids!” Principal Yaga threw his dolls at you hard, the both of you clutching at your heads in pain. How were those dolls as heavy as rocks? “Take your bickering back to your rooms please. No more of this mess and noise. It’s late.”

You frowned at the old man, face pleading as you signed, “Principal Yaga, can’t we really do anything else? Aren’t there any techniques to undo this?”

You and Toge knew that combination so well – pitch black eyes, jaw clenched, lips pursed and palms interlaced under his chin – one that meant his words were final and irrevocable. None of you could argue or suggest more solutions the moment the words left his lips like an ultimate decree. “The technique is the kiss. Now leave.”

You and Toge tried, you both really did.

But following Principal Yaga’s suggestion of dating others had turned out to be a complete fail – even with your normal body and Toge’s physical charisma.

It simply didn’t work; not when Megumi ran away from you every time you tried to get him to kiss you with your arms wide open, and Toge wasn’t helping either by pushing Gojo-Sensei away from you every time the cheeky eyed teacher announced his willingness to help.

Eventually, you and your best friend had retired in his room, the scent of him coated all over his pillows and his shirt that you wore. That felt comforting, at least, and you buried yourself in the crook of your body’s neck, bodies tangled with one another.

Who knew dating could be so tiring?

A wave of irritation flashed over you from today’s events, knowing full well that this could’ve been avoided long ago. Scowling, you cuddled Toge closer, lightly flicking your fingers on your body’s chest. “This is your damn fault, Toge.”

“You were the one who asked me to stargaze with you.”

“You don’t always have to say no to everything I ask of you, you know.”

“You’re really dumber than I thought if you think I could easily say no to you,” he snorted above you, his chin resting atop your head. “I don’t have a lot of weakness because I’m a strong sorcerer—” another flick, a harsher one this time around. “Okay, okay, I’m just kidding! But I mean it though – you’re my best friend and my weakness. Of course I’d do anything to make you happy, even if it’s something as stupid as stargazing.”

“Hey!” you made a sound of protest in your throat, looking back at him with a frown. “It wasn’t stupid, it was romantic.”

Hell yeah, it was romantic indeed – your heart still skipped a beat every time you remembered Toge’s starry eyes matching the night sky’s beauty, the words salmon and mustard leaf surprisingly sexy every time it came from him. It was stupid – so fucking stupid – that you groaned into his chest to hide your flushed face.

“Yeah, I suppose it was.”

The room fell silent, your syncopated breathing soothing during this stressful times. Taking advantage of your voice, Toge began to hum, singing the songs you both had always listened to in the privacy of your room during lazy days. It brought a smile to your face as you clutched to him tighter, heart pounding in your chest as you gazed up at him, tapping his chin to get his attention. “Toge, can I say something weird?”

“Please, nothing you say surprises me anymore. Shoot.”

Your mouth began to dry as you cleared your throat in an attempt to hide your awkwardness, gaze pointedly averted from his prying ones. “You and I...we’ve known each other for a long time and we love each other. As best friends, of course.”

“Sheesh, friendzone much?”

“Would you please shut up and listen to me seriously for once?” you huffed, making him snicker, but nodded at you anyway to continue. “As I was saying – why don’t we kiss? It could be true love’s kiss.”

Toge didn’t speak for a good minute, the pregnant pause filling in the gap filled with tension. You taped his cheek, waving his hand in front of his eyes when he dazed out. When his gaze focussed back on you, Toge was surprisingly calm – although beneath that composed exterior, his mind had simply short-circuited. “If this is your way to get to make out with me, I’m going to sock you in the face.”

“Toge, I’m serious! Let’s kiss!”

“I don’t want to!” he shook his head indignantly, hiding his face by hugging you close to his chest instead.

“Why not? Don’t you want to swap back to your original body? Both of us haven’t showered in two days and I’m sick of the way you smell. You’re lucky I love you though, otherwise I’m going to cry. Come on, Toge, what’s holding you back?” you tried to fight back from his grip, but he’d surprised you both when he only squeezed you tighter, both your erratic heart rates matching the other.

“I said no.”

“Toge, it’s just a damn kiss, what’re you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that if we don’t swap back, then that means you don’t love me the way I love you!” he finally admitted, breathing hard before continuing. “Principal Yaga said it must be a kiss between lovers and not just platonic friends okay?” you attempted to scramble away from his arms again, and this time he let you, though he’d closed his eyes, cheek squished on the pillows as he murmured, “I don’t want you to reject me... even though I messed up already.”

“Wait,” you snapped your fingers to make him open his eyes, hesitant as you signed, “You...you love me that way?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because my face is staring back at me and it’s fucking awkward – I wanted to see your face when I confessed!” he sat up with a frustrated groan, childishly kicking off the sheets of the bed as he clutched his head in his hands. “I had everything planned, okay? Nobara and Yuuji helped me think of everything because Megumi is shit when it comes to love. Listen, I was going to ask you on a candlelit date and then maybe kiss the life out of you – if you feel the same way—”

“Kiss me.” The body he possessed a victim of his own powers, Toge was left with no choice but to grab your face before his mouth pressed against yours, fingers entangled into the other’s hair. You were smiling into the kiss the whole time, barely able to recognize when Toge had shifted your bodies until you were under him, his hands running down your sides lovingly the whole time.

Pulling away to get some air, you opened your eyes, unsurprised when Toge laid above you, his strong arms planted beside your head.

Both of you were breathing hard from the passionate kiss filled with so much sexual tension and longing, your tongue darting out to swipe at his taste on your lips. The laughter that bubbled out of you was pure, wholesome and swollen like your heart. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Salmon!” Toge peppered your cheeks with kisses, pulling out more gleeful laughter from you, his playful and loving attacks more of a gift than a punishment. Once you’d recovered from your happiness – although really, who could recover after that? – Toge unzipped his collar, his smile nothing but wicked when he commanded, “Kiss me again.”

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sariahsue · 4 years ago

Text

Confession

Part two of this (but can be read on its own)

It was barely 9:00 a.m. and Adrien Agreste was already sweating. After an hour of pep talking and encouragement during patrol last night, Ladybug had declared that she wasn’t ready to ask Adrien out yet, but she never would be, so why keep waiting?

And Ladybug was Marinette.

And Marinette wouldn’t stop looking at him.

He hadn’t even gotten through his first class and it was already the longest school day of his life.

(Adrien peeked over his shoulder for the eighth time, just as Marinette turned her face away again and blushed. He whipped around to the front. She was going to get suspicious if he kept doing that, but he couldn’t seem to stop.)

It had been a whole week since Chat Noir had found out Ladybug’s identity, and four days since she’d told him the name of the lucky boy who’d caught her heart. And Adrien still couldn’t believe it was him.

And now she was going to ask him out. When? That was the question floating through his mind as his teachers droned on about algebra. When? Maybe something about the Revolution in history class, but he wasn’t entirely sure. When? Science possibly?

When?

When was she going to talk to him? Today? Tomorrow? Did he smell nice? Had he misunderstood and she meant a different Adrien Agreste? Should he wait for her to approach him or start a conversation to give her an opening? He should have asked her last night! Why didn’t he ask her that?!

One advantage to peeking at her so often was that he could tell he felt more nervous than she looked, which was probably a good thing. Maybe something he said to her last night had helped. He felt scattered and on edge. Marinette’s nervousness was subtle. A tap tap tap of her pencil. The squeak of her shoe as she bounced her knee. Meanwhile, his mind was going in a hundred directions at once, wondering how she would confess.

And that thought sent anticipation swooping through his stomach.

Maybe it would have been better if he’d just told her his identity last night, make sure she knew how crazy he was about her so she could stop worrying.

But Ladybug had made it clear how much she wanted to ask Adrien, and how much effort she had already put in for him, and he didn’t want to minimize her struggle. Plus - and he felt a little guilty for it - he really wanted to hear what she would say. Wanted her to ask him. Wanted to be wanted by her.

Behind him, Marinette let out a breathy sigh. This was going to be a very, very long day.

***

A few hours later, Adrien stood at the top of school stairs, looking down at the waiting limo with its door already open for him, waiting to take him home for the weekend.

His pep talks hadn’t been enough. Even though she’d had plenty of opportunities, Marinette hadn’t asked him. His footsteps were heavy as he walked away from the school doors and waved a limp hello to his driver.

“Adrien, wait!”

He turned back so fast that the world blurred. Marinette ran toward him and then stopped a few inches in front of him, stone still, hands clenched to her sides.

His heart pounded in his mouth. “Yeah?”

“I-” That was as far as she got before her eyes fell to her feet.

“Yes?” Adrien prompted, hoping he was keeping the desperation out of his voice. He was not going to let her get out of talking now. Not if she was finally going to tell him how she really felt about him. “Was there something you wanted?”

“N-no, I don’t want anything,” she said, eyes flicking back up to his. “Just, um.” Paper rustled as she reached in her pocket and held out a small piece of notebook scrap to him. This wasn’t in any of the plans that they’d made together.

“What’s this?” He took it quickly, careful not to let their fingers brush (even though he wanted them to) because it might make her more nervous. On it was a little doodle of a cat face.

“What’s this about?” he whispered, even though he knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“So I have a purr-fect idea.”

This was it. This was it! She was making puns! She was going to ask him out! This excitement and joy were expected. Every single wish he’d ever made was about to come true.

And all of it was almost overshadowed by the single revelation that his Lady trusted him this much, to take his advice on something so important to her, something that was literally keeping her up at night with worry. It wasn’t trust out of necessity. It was trusting him with her vulnerabilities. He hadn’t realized that was going to hit as hard as it did.

“Cat got your tongue?” Marinette asked.

A second cat pun? Adrien leaned against the open car door for support. It swung farther open under his weight and nearly took him off his feet.

Marinette’s face went white.

“Sorry,” he said, standing back up. (He leaned against the frame of the car this time.) He had to pull himself together and not make this harder for her than it already was. “Sun was in my--” The sun beat down on the back of his neck. “Never mind. What’s your idea?”

“Uh.” She pointed to the paper. “Flip it over?”

On the back was a hastily-drawn ice cream cone. One of the many date ideas they had discussed. That had been his favorite one. Low pressure, but still enough to get the point across that it was a date and not just hanging out. She trusted his opinion and went with his idea.

“If you’re free sometime, would you want to get ice cream with me?” Its job complete, Marinette’s mouth clicked shut. Her lips screwed up tight as she politely waited for his answer.

Adrien was having none of it.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you asking me for ice cream?”

“Oh.” Marinette folded her hands in front of her chest, eyes looking everywhere but at him. “I just, you know, thought that you might like some ice cream. Some time. And I like it too, and we know each other, so we could get some at the same time.”

“Is that the only reason? Because you thought we both liked it? Or is there something else?”

She sighed, shoulders dropping suddenly. “Listen, I really like you. A lot.”

“Yeah?” he prompted.

She finally looked at him, searching his face for any sign of impending rejection. Adrien smiled softly to let her know she wasn’t ever going to find any there.

“I think you’re great,” she said. “You’re very kind and you’re fun to be around, and I was hoping you’d want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Yes. I’d love to.”

“Wait.” Marinette took a step back. “Yes? Did you just say yes?!”

“I’m really glad you asked me,” he said. “I’ve had a huge crush on you forever.”

It was Marinette’s turn to be speechless, but she recovered enough to squeak, “How about Monday after school? Do you have time then?”

“Sundaes on Monday? That sounds great!”

Marinette beamed, beautiful and wide and just for him. She liked him! She’d asked him! She trusted him!

She trusted him.

And he couldn’t start a relationship with her when he was keeping a huge secret from her.

“I have something to tell you first though, before our first date, and then you can decide if you still want to go out with me.”

Marinette cocked her head. “Of course I will. What is it?”

Adrien took a deep breath. Would she? He’d effectively tricked her into asking him out.

The Gorilla cleared his throat. A line of cars was forming behind them.

Feeling a little like a coward, Adrien started climbing into the limo. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“But it’s Saturday. We don’t have school tomorrow. And don’t you usually have shoots and fencing?”

He leaned out of the door and grabbed her hand. It would be too much of a hint for him to kiss it, so he squeezed it instead. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find you.”

***

Author’s note: There will be one more part! Update: Here it is!

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #mlb #love square #postreveal2021

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kuroos-babie · 4 years ago

Text

falling in love with a single mom hcs

INCLUDES: nishinoya, tsukishima, yaku

you spent a good part of your childhood with nishinoya, chasing away the dogs that had a penchant of scaring your best friend shitless, climbing trees and playing treasure hunt

it was funny, to say the least, seeing how he grew from such a scaredy-cat to the energetic and confident noya everyone knows

throughout highschool you watched him chase girl after girl and he watched you turn down guy after guy

the dynamic you two had was that of a feral gremlin child and its chill owner holding the leash and everyone, including you two, thought you would always be together

everyday was fun with nishinoya's energy hanging around you, no doubt

but when he asked you to travel the world with him right after graduation, he was met with a hesitant refusal

"i'm planning to go to college, yuu"

"it'll be fun, y/n! like going on an adventure!!"

"visit me once in a while"

his heart clenched at the way you smiled at him with teary eyes, "i can't change your mind can i?"

with a soft shake of your head, he sighed

he leaves in three days

the first few months of him being away were filled with calls and pictures of his trips, smile seemingly wider and brighter than before and a part of you regretted not coming with him

but college starts in a week, and with that came missed calls and ignored messages

at some point, neither of you just remembered to hit the other up, caught up with the stresses of your own life and before either of you knew it, 5 years have passed

he came to visit home for the first time in years, no longer the boyish noya you knew but he still had that warm aura around him

you were the first thought to come to mind the moment he step foot in town, his whole body buzzing with excitement at the mere thought of seeing you again

so of course he went straight to your house, feet taking step after memorized step and hands clutching bags of things he got from his travels

"Y/N!!!!!", he calls out as he enters your house which was answered with a harsh shushing

turning a corner he saw you in the living room, lovely as ever-- he thought, and with a baby sleeping soundly in your arms, "the baby's sleeping, yuu"

"whose...?"

you laughed at the cracking in his voice, "mine, who else's?"

man, he looked like he was about to cry

he quietly approached you, careful as to not wake the baby

"for you", he mumbled while handing you the bag of snacks and stuff

the room was filled with silence after you hummed a short thanks

he was looking at the child's face, it looked like you, he thinks

he asked when you got married, "you didn't tell me, didn't even invite your best friend to your wedding", he whined

"i didn't, i'm not married"

his eyes were wide as they looked at you

you told him about getting pregnant shortly after college graduation and getting ditched

he thought of himself selfish as he heaved a sigh of relief

"it's fine though, my parents are helping me a lot", he notes how you looked at your baby with such fond eyes and his heart swelled, he felt like crying

you chuckled at the look on his face, "hey don't look so sorry for me, can't be happier to have her"

"what's her name?"

you looked at your daughter's face and pet at her cheek with a finger, "yui"

nishinoya couldn't hold it in anymore and so he let himself cry and pulled you close

and for the nth time since the day of your college graduation he asked you again, "come with me, y/n, let's travel the world" but you have a child "i'll stay with you here until she's old enough", he said while kissing the tears that slipped down your cheeks

"then we can all go travel the world together"

he liked working at the museum, he really does

at least that's what he tries to tell himself as he led the group of preschoolers through the sendai museum

they were cute, yeah, but also very chatty

especially this one little boy with the frog hat

"what's this called?"

"it's a fossilized remain of--"

"how about this one?"

"it's--", and before he could answer, the child was already running to the other side of the exhibit

he just sighs

the tour ended and he was getting ready for his lunch break, proceeding to the cafe by the entrance as he always does

his eyes almost caught the flurry of green that passed beside him but he chose to ignore it

but of course it wasn't long after he sat down with his order when he heard a familiar bubbly voice

"mama that's the dinosaur guy!", he heard the little boy whisper loudly, "he's so tall, like a brachiosaurus!"

he couldn't supress the chuckle at the child's remark and he turned in his seat, "so you were listening, i thought you were just bouncing all around the place"

"oh sorry, did he give you a hard time?"

your voice drew his attention and he smiled at the sight of your worried face, something that surprised even him, "not really, no"

he invited you two to sit and eat with him and he listened to your son ramble all about dinosaurs and prehistoric animals

"a smart one, i like him"

your son really liked him too and asked you to take him to the museum again and see tsukishima

and so it became a habit for you to visit the museum every friday with the little boy, waiting for the tall blonde to get off work so you three could grab something to eat

and every time he sees you in the little cafe by the entrancne with your son, tsukishima couldn't help but smile a little and pat at his chest to calm the subtle fluttering as he push the door open

it was a weird feeling he never knew would come so naturally at the mere sight of you two

he bought your son picture books and and figurines and copies of the "walking with dinosaurs" documentary

"we should watch it this weekend..." his eyebrows shot up for a moment at your meek suggestion

of course the little boy was elated, excited to have him over at your house "yes! let's go now! i wanna watch it with tsukki now!!!"

tsukishima returned his gaze on you, "if it's not too much trouble then i'd love to go now"

and so the rest of the friday night was spent on your couch with all the lights turned off and a narration of al the allosaurus' life

you looked over at the other side of the couch to see your son laying on tsukishima, eyes fluttering shut with the man passed out and lightly snoring

he must've been tired

you draped a blanket over the two of them and waited for sleep to visit you too and it soon did

morning came and you woke up to the smell of coffee

"i borrowed your coffee maker, i hope you don't mind", his voice was still low, trying not to wake the little boy

"yeah, sorry i didn't wake you up last night... you looked tired"

he chuckled as you walked over to the kitchen to take out two mugs and prepared some toast, "i don't mind, it was the best sleep i've gotten in a while. i hope it wasn't too much of a bother for you though"

you leaned on the kitchen counter as you took in his appearance; hair ruffled and eyes puffy with sleep, "i don't mind it one bit"

he huffed a laugh and looked over to the sofa where your son still laid

"he likes you a lot"

"so it seems, i hope you do too", his face was smug but you didn't miss the red that tinted his cheeks when you told him "of course i do, in fact i was thinking maybe we should do this more often"

his smirk grew, "just say you want to wake up everyday to the sight of me and leave it at that"

you rolled your eyes at his comment but smiled nonetheless, "oh shut up"

he had just come back from the nekoma volleyball team reunion, head lightly buzzing from the few bottles of alcohol kuroo forced down his throat

making his way through the carpeted hotel hall, he could barely make out the sound of little feet hurriedly padding on the floor and quiet sniffles

taking out the keycard to his room with the blissful thoughts of finally sinking into the soft mattress was interrupted by a soft bump on his thigh, a muffled thud and a small "ow..."

it took a few moments before the sight of the little boy on the hotel floor registered properly in his brain

it was well past 2 am... why the hell is there a child running around the halls

"uh... hi?"

big bright eyes looked up at him and he can't help but sigh at the sniffles increasingly growing louder

"where's your mama, little guy?", yaku crouched to the little boy's level, careful to keep his balance as the booze and exhaustion was catching up to him

however, at the mention of his mother, the little boy's eye filled up with more tears and was ready to burst anytime, "mama..."

"oh no no no no"

yaku's too tired for this

so with a sigh and a groan, he took the boy in his arms and entered his room

"let's look for her in the morning, okay? i think i still have some cookies in my room, would like some?"

the little boy nods his head, earning a relieved sigh from yaku

the rest of the night was spent with cartoons playing on the large hotel room tv, yaku leaning against the headboard with the little boy snoozing away while being tucked in his arm, cookie on his hand and crumbs all around

morning came and panic surged through your body the moment you realized your 3 year-old son was nowhere inside your hotel room

your hurried to the security desk to report and hopefully make an announcement, head reeling and aching with the sudden rush of adrenaline first thing in the morning

with your head in your hands, you let out a groan while trying not to cry at all the possibilites flashing through your mind

your wallowing was cut short with an "excuse me, i found this child last night"

turning your head back to the security desk, you see a man in his pajamas and slippers, hair ruffled from sleep and a sleepy little boy laying on his shoulder

"oh my god"

the whole conlict ended when you came up to them and introduced yourself, the little boy quickly recognizing your voice and whipped his head over to you, "mama!"

your son reached out for you and yaku couldn't help but notice how pretty your glossy eyes were despite how disheveled you looked

"mama, yakkun gave me cookies and we watched cartoons aaaaall night!"

yaku's eyes widened at the little boy's words and let out a nervous chuckle, "you make me sound so suspicious"

he turned to you and explained how your son bumped into him at 2 am and he was just too tired to bring him down to the security desk

"my tired tipsy brain thought it was a better idea to just let him sleep in my room and look for mama in the morning", he ended with the tips of his ears tinged red

you laughed at his nervousness, "well we can talk more about it over breakfast, what do you say yakkun? my treat"

with the way you were smiling at him, how could he even refuse?

the rest of the morning was spent with coffee and waffles, juice and fruits and chatter

he learned you and your son were in town for a few days, "i wanted to go see the fishies in the aquarium!", the little boy quips

with the new volleyball season just around the corner, yaku knew he'd have practices but he offered to tour you two around tokyo

he wanted to see you two again

briefly taking care of the toddler last night and having breakfast with you, he realized, were very much a welcomed change of pace in his hectic pro volleyball life

"are you my dad? mama told me daddy was working in tokyo" he remembered your son quietly mumbling last night, "i haven't seen him though, not ever"

the rest of your stay in tokyo was spent hanging out with yaku, your son growing more and more attached to him and slept over at his room every night

as promised, he took you and your son on a tokyo tour and even brought you to practice, introducing you to the national team and teaching your child receives

of course your trip eventually reached its end, promises of meeting again drowned in the little boy's tears as he tried to reach out to yaku

"we'll meet again, little guy", he says while ruffling the boy's hair, "i'll even go visit you and we'll play lots, okay?

of course he made a point of contacting you frequently, often video chatting during meal times and bedtime and a few more hours after, relishing in the time he could spend talking alone with you

"i can't wait to see you two again", he always says right after "good night"

taglist: @churochuu @bakarinnie @faithieeee @strawberriimilkshake @paulazockt @pattys-got-cakes @hidden-otaku-stuff @haikyuubabie @sachirou-senpai @your-local-abyss @stcrryskies @toosaltyforacookie @mrs-kuroojinguji @shawkneecaps @miyastrology @galacticstxrdust @wakaushi @boosyboo9206 @sugawara-sweetheart @threeconsecutivefs @chichibia @diyosku @curiouslilbeast @cowbeboppy @tsukkaria @yyvveess @kirakirasaku

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heyiwrotesomethings · 4 years ago

Text

A Compulsive Gambler?!

Yumeko Jabami x She/Her Reader

A/N: Could you imagine Yumeko dating someone and they have no idea she’s, ya know, a gambling freak? I bet she would have a hard time pulling back like, she’d still gamble with her SO but in a sneaky, more subdued way. Something like, ‘if you can guess what number I’m thinking of you can pick what we eat for dinner’, or something like that. Seems innocent enough but she just can’t help herself into turning some interactions into gambles. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy! Word Count: 5,170

For perhaps the first time since Mary met Yumeko, the girl was a nervous wreck. The usually carefree gambling addict was pacing around the near empty classroom while she twisted the ring on her thumb around and around again with no sign of stopping. Finally, Mary had had enough. If Suzui wasn’t going to be useful and ask what the hell was going on, she would do it herself.

“What the hell is your problem? Are you going through withdrawals or something?” Mary asked with an annoyed huff.

“Oh Mary-san!” Yumeko practically moaned, the back of her hand raised to her forehead with over dramatic flair, “I don’t know what to do!”

“About what?” Mary asked, accompanied with an annoyed eye roll.

“My girlfriend is coming to visit tomorrow and she’s going to be staying with me over the weekend!” Yumeko blushed cupping her hands over her face at the mere thought of it all. It just made Mary more annoyed.

“And? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“You have a girlfriend?” Ryota blinked, the poor boy seemed to always be falling behind.

“Yes, we’ve been together since our last year of middle school. We went to the same high school too until I transferred,” Yumeko gushed while she hugged herself, twisting and swaying slightly on her feet, “I love her so much! It’s been hard to be away from her all this time!”

Ryota scratched his cheek. “Then... why do you seem so uneasy?”

“Well that’s easy!” Yumeko cheered, a dazzling smile over her lips. A moment passed by and Yumeko appeared to pale considerably and a nervous sweat dotted her face, her body trembled and yet, the smile stayed in place. Mary and Ryota side eyed each other before staring back at Yumeko, waiting.

“She doesn’t know about my severe gambling addiction!” Yumeko finally disclosed.

“What?!” Mary and Ryota spoke in unison.

“Yes, it’s hard to believe isn’t it?” Yumeko sighed. “I’ve kept it hidden from her all this time because I feared what she would think of me if she found out. That, and I wouldn’t want her to get hurt from tagging along. I love that girl dearly and I can’t risk losing her.”

“How are you going to keep your secret, Yumeko?” Ryota’s worry for his friend was plain on his face.

“That’s where I’m hoping you two will come in!” Yumeko grasped a hand of Mary’s and Ryota’s in both of hers, a pleading pout on her face. “Help me keep her occupied and away from any mention of gambling!”

“Are you an idiot?” Mary scoffed, not waiting for an answer. “This school is all about gambling! Not to mention we’re in the midst of this insane election. You’d be better off just having her wait off of school grounds rather than parading her around for all your enemies to see.”

“Please Mary-san, it’s only for one day!” Yumeko cooed. She tried to wrap the blonde up in her arms, but Mary stood and held her away at arm’s length.

“I’m not gonna go out of my way for this fool’s errand. I’ve got to go meet with Ririka now. Figure it out yourself, but if you want my advice you should just come clean.” Mary said, giving Yumeko one last shove as she made her way out of the classroom.

“Oh yes, do you think Ririka-san would help? Maybe we could get Itsuki in on it as well!”

“You’re on your own!” Mary called from the hallway, making Yumeko whine.

“I’ll help you Yumeko.” Ryota predictably volunteered.

“Thank you, Ryota!” Yumeko bounced giddily, “Hopefully everything will run smoothly tomorrow if we play our cards right!”

***

“(Y/n)!” Yumeko jumped the girl as soon as she saw her approach the gates of the prestigious academy and showered her face with dozens of little kisses that made her girlfriend laugh and try to wiggle away from the continuous onslaught.

“Yumeko! I take it you missed me too then?” (Y/n) smiled, catching Yumeko’s face in her hands so she could land a few kisses of her own.

“Of course! You know it was one of the hardest decisions of my life to transfer here. I need to make up for lost time!” Yumeko grinned in return. She was about to steal another kiss when someone cleared their throat behind her.

“Oh, right!” Yumeko recalled, pulling (Y/n) to her side until they were near flush together. “Ryota, this is (L/n) (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Suzui Ryota, one of my friends!”

“Nice to meet you.” Ryota said. He was no stranger to feeling out of place, but after that intimate display he had never felt more awkward.

“Nice to meet you too, Suzui-san. I hope Yumeko hasn’t caused you too much trouble.” (Y/n) joked.

Thoughts of millions of yen in debt, gambling for nails, house pets, guns in a seedy basement, among other things, flashed almost violently in Ryota’s mind but he managed to keep a somewhat pleasant expression as he answered.

“Not at all! Yumeko’s a model student,” he lied.

“Oh god, I thought you’d be in the classroom by now. So much for a quiet morning.”

“Mary-san! Good morning!” Yumeko pivoted, still holding (Y/n) close, “Come meet my (Y/n)!”

“Hi. Saotome Mary. It’s a pleasure. Excuse us a second.” (Y/n) blinked and Mary was halfway through the courtyard before she noticed Yumeko being dragged along with her.

“Are you stupid?” Mary whispered harshly with no preamble once she found a secluded spot in the trees.

“Mary-san, what are we doing?” Yumeko asked, tilting her head like an inquisitive puppy would.

“How about what are you doing?” Mary hissed back. “The whole school must know you’re dating at this point!”

“Well that’s good isn’t it?”

“It’s the exact opposite of good! Do you have any idea how many people are gonna try to use her against you now? Use your head a little!”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to help me, Mary-san.” Yumeko giggled, “but you really do care about my happiness, don’t you?”

“Shut up!” Mary blushed, pushing Yumeko away before she could hug her. “I just don’t want some innocent girl to get caught up in this crazy school. Just be more discreet from now on. She already sticks out like a sore thumb without the Hyakkaou uniform.”

“I’ll do my best Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped. “It’ll be hard though since she’s just so kissable.”

“I didn’t ask.”

When they got back to the gate, they only saw Suzui looking around desperately while sweating bullets. When he finally saw Mary and Yumeko walking towards him, he ran up to them, breathing heavily.

“Ryota? Where did (Y/n) go?” Yumeko smiled.

“Iki... Ikishima’s girls took her! Tried to.. stop them but—“ Ryota panted and wheezed, stopping the retelling of his account once Yumeko rose her hand to his lips, directing him to silence.

“See? What did I tell you?” Mary groused. “And Ikishima of all people...” Mary shut her mouth tightly upon seeing the look on Yumeko’s face. The pure disgust and hatred that rolled off of her made Mary’s skin crawl.

“Ryota, Mary,” Yumeko eerily called, “it’s time for me to get my (Y/n) back from her visit to the trash heap. You’ll accompany me won’t you?”

It went without saying that Mary and Ryota followed after their friend. Whether out of fear or support, it could have gone either way. Even Mary thought it wise not to berate the usually carefree girl with ‘I told you so’s’ in this state.

They hurried to the bowels of the school and pushed through the beautification committee members. The members didn’t retaliate, one look at Yumeko’s face was enough to make them part their ranks like Moses and the sea. Yumeko approached the big metal door and knocked three times, loud metal echoes rung out over the hum of generators and fluorescent lights.

A wild laugh sounded upon the knocks. An eager cry of, ‘she’s here!’ could clearly be heard from inside as quick steps over linoleum could be heard tapping in rapid succession towards the door before it was wrenched open with a heinous squeak from its hinges that nearly matched pitch with Midari’s own delighted squeal upon being face to face with Yumeko.

“Yu-me-ko!” Midari sang, “so glad you could join us!”

Yumeko breezed past Midari without so much as a glance and went straight for (Y/n) who was tied to a chair in the middle of the room like some crime movie.

“Oh my (Y/n), are you alright?” Yumeko cooed, freeing (Y/n) from the gag and turning her face in her hands to look her over.

“I think so,” (Y/n) shivered, “just what kind of school do you go to where people are kidnapped at gunpoint?!”

The thought of Ikishima pressing that dirty gun against (Y/n)’s head made Yumeko want to curb stomp Ikishima’s head into a fine paste, but the deranged girl would have just loved that, wouldn’t she? Instead she worked on untying the ropes from (Y/n)’s middle, comforting her girlfriend along the way.

“It’s alright my love! The beautification committee is just really serious about following the dress code. They won’t bother you anymore.”

“Yumeko,” Midari moaned from behind her, “I brought her her so you would gah—!”

Mary slapped the girl hard over the back of her head and gave her a warning look. Midari shut up more out of the delight of being hit more than anything else.

“...’Gah’?” (Y/n) flicked her eyes over everyone in the room, trying to get some kind of explanation for what the hell was going on.

“‘Gah?’” Yumeko repeated right back with a smile. “Whatever does that mean, my dear?”

“I don’t know, the girl with the eye patch said it.” (Y/n) replied, finally loose from her bindings, she rubbed her hands over her arms where the scratchy rope had dug in.

“Oh sweetheart, you must be seeing things. I see no such girl here.” Yumeko said, causing a whimper to fall from Midari’s lips. “Let’s get to my class now, shall we?”

“Anywhere is better than here.” (Y/n) sighed, choosing not to question Yumeko about the girl who had taken her. She clearly didn’t like her and after being dragged here against her will, (Y/n) couldn’t say she enjoyed the crazed girl’s company either.

“That’s my girl,” Yumeko cooed, pulling (Y/n) tightly against her side. They walked past Midari as she blubbered and crawled over the floor towards Yumeko only to have the metal door slammed in her face.

“Come on, we’re already late!” Mary griped. “Some of us have scholarships to keep!”

“I just can’t wait to be sitting in a classroom with my (Y/n) again,” Yumeko sighed dreamily, “it will be just like old times!”

“Yeah.” (Y/n) smiled though she was still coming to terms with being held at gunpoint for wearing the wrong uniform. Yumeko hadn’t even seemed to be phased by it. Like it was something that was part of the school policy. We’re all rich people schools like this? Whatever, (Y/n) wasn’t going to let this one setback, no matter how momentarily terrifying, ruin her weekend with Yumeko.

Before they could make it to their classroom, the were jumped by another second year student with literal stars in her eyes as she grabbed Yumeko’s hands.

“Yumeko, I’m so glad I caught you!” She cheered.

“Oh hello Yumemi, what are you doing outside our classroom?” Yumeko asked.

“Waiting for you! It’s been so long since the Dreaming Creaming Sisters have performed and I need you to pretty please join me for a concert!” Yumemi sparkled.

“Dream—“ (Y/n) tried to muffle her inelegant snort with her hand but the action immediately drew in Yumemi’s attention, the idol’s face darkened slightly.

“Oh? What’s so funny stranger?” Yumemi asked with faux sweetness.

“I, um, sorry. It’s just uh, a unique group name you’ve got there.” (Y/n) answered sheepishly.

“Well, I’d like to see you come up with a better rhyme for dreaming!”

“Scheming, beaming, redeeming... meme-ing.” (Y/n) listed the first words that came to her head, making Yumemi’s smile tighten further with every suggestion.

“Who’s your friend, Yumeko?” The idol asked, fake interest rolling off her tongue.

“This is my girlfriend (Y/n)!” Yumeko said with pride. “Isn’t she just so cute and smart?”

‘Smart ass maybe.’ Yumemi thought to herself.

“Anyway, I’m sorry but I can’t perform with you right now. I’ve got class and I don’t want to leave (Y/n) alone.” Yumeko explained, hugging the girl for emphasis.

“I didn’t know you were part of an idol group now, Yumeko.” (Y/n) said as Yumeko guided her towards the doorway.

“It’s just a side hobby really.”

Before they could enter Yumemi pulled (Y/n) out of Yumeko’s hold, hugging her from behind, her starry eyes dancing with mischief.

“You’ve never seen Yumeko preform then, have you (Y/n)-san?” Yumemi asked, still hugging the other girl close as she weaved her trap.

“Yumeko has sang to me before, so I know she can sing very well.” (Y/n) admitted bashfully. “I’ve never seen her act as a full blown idol before though.”

“Isn’t that something you’d like to see? We could have it all set up in a matter of minutes, wouldn’t that be great?” Yumemi coaxed.

“I wouldn’t want Yumeko to do something she doesn’t want to do. Besides, her class is starting soon.” (Y/n) said.

“I didn’t hear a no.” Yumemi sing-songed while (Y/n)’s face buzzed with heat.

“If you’d like to see then I don’t really mind, (Y/n).” Yumeko grinned, pulling her away from Yumemi, “I like the idea of singing directly to you in a sea of people. They’ll all know exactly how much you mean to me.”

“Yumeko..” (Y/n) hid her face in the giggling gambling addict’s chest.

“Oh for the love of— are we going to class or not?” Mary yelled impatiently.

“I’m afraid I have a concert to prepare for Mary-san. Will you come watch with (Y/n)?” Yumeko asked.

“Fine whatever.” Mary bristled.

They all made to leave when Mary halted Ryota with a hand to his chest.

“Wh- what?” He asked, jumpily.

“You are going to stay here and take notes. They better be good ones too.” Mary threatened.

“But—“

“Notes, Suzui.” Mary commanded. The poor boy gave a resigned nod and with drooping shoulders he sulked into the classroom.

***

While Yumeko and Yumemi prepared backstage, Mary and (Y/n) found their seats and made light conversation as more bodies filed into the seats around them. Despite dating Yumeko, Mary found that (Y/n) seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.

“Saotome-san, what is that boy taking bets for?” (Y/n) asked.

“It’s just some weird niche idol thing Yumemite does. Don’t worry about it.” Mary dismissed, though inside she was worried this would become a bigger gamble that she couldn’t possibly cover up.

“This rich people school is so weird.” (Y/n) commented offhandedly.

“Tell me about it.” Mary agreed.

The house lights dimmed and the stage was set aglow. Upbeat music began to play and the crowd around them cheered as Yumeko and Yumemi entered the stage.

They sang their opening song and (Y/n) watched with delight, her heart beating faster every time Yumeko would meet her eyes throw a flirtatious wink or smile her way. (Y/n) would wave the red glow stick she was given in return.

“Now it’s time for the event you’ve all been waiting for!” Yumemi yelled over the crowd, causing them to cheer again. “The rematch of the century!”

“Rematch? What is she talking about Saotome-san?” (Y/n) asked.

“Ah, there just seeing who can do best in various idol based competitions.” Mary responded, truly hoping that that would be it, but Yumemite wasn’t done talking just yet.

“Before you all got here, one lucky seat was chosen for the spotlight! Let’s see who it is, shall we?”

Yumemi swept her hand across the packed auditorium and one light after the other blinked across the sea of bodies while the audience cheered. A bright light shone on (Y/n) and she blinked at the sudden brightness, surprised when the light didn’t immediately flicker back off.

“And there we have it! Our visiting guest from another school, how lucky you are!” Yumemi said with mock surprise as if she hadn’t had the thing rigged from the get go.

“You’ve won the opportunity to go on a date with one of us, the Dreaming Creaming Sisters! How will it be determined who you go out with? Well, it all depends on which one of us wins this gamb—“

“Game!” Yumeko hurriedly interjected, a faint gleam of sweat streaked down her cheek.

“Well, yes, I suppose ‘game’ is also accurate.” Yumemi cocked her head at the strange outburst. Yumemi didn’t really care what Yumeko called the gamble, she just had to win it. What better way to get back at the girl than to steal her girlfriend away for a night.

“The rules to this game are simple Yumeko-chan! There will be three rounds: perfect pitch, name the tune, and choreography memory match. Win two out of three, and you’ll get to go out with our lucky chair holder! Lose, and you’ll be paying for mine and (Y/n)’s night out. I’ll warn you, I’m not cheap!” Yumemi said with a showy laugh.

“But, I’m already dating Yumeko,” (Y/n) frowned, “I can’t go on a date with someone else!”

“Just hope Yumeko wins then.” Mary sighed. At least Yumemi’s way of gambling wasn’t too obvious. Her gambles were big and grand, but to an outsider they weren’t immediately discernible as anything but stage entertainment.

“Let’s make this quick, Yumemi-chan!” Yumeko smiled, hoping she could keep her desire to up the stakes in check.

Yumeko won perfect pitch, matching nearly every note with perfect accuracy. Yumemi won name the tune as many of the songs were conveniently of a western selection. Last was the choreography memory game and (Y/n) was nervous.

(Y/n) knew that Yumeko had a splendid memory, but the girl also detested demanding physical excursions such as this. She was probably already tired from dancing at the start of the show. To (Y/n), it was not looking to good for her girlfriend.

But to (Y/n)’s surprise, Yumeko followed the impromptu routine like a champ. Yumeko refused to let Yumemi outdo her, all for the sake of keeping (Y/n) close.

“She’s going to be so sore after this.” (Y/n) marveled. “You know I used to have to threaten her to make her go to gym class?”

“You could actually make her go to gym class?” Mary rose a brow, impressed. She hadn’t seen Yumeko attend gym class since the first week of her transferring. While Mary was still a house pet, she took great pleasure in watching Yumeko suffer through that class period.

Minutes went by and the two girls each adorned a a sleek sheen of sweat as they continued to dance, matching each other step for step. The fans were going wild at the display, waiting to see how would win the dance battle of a lifetime.

Then it happened in a flash. Yumemi, in her desire to get back at Yumeko for their last gamble against Natari Kawaru, tried to add a very complex step in her next turn and fell to the stage which led to her loss.

“Jabami Yumeko wins!” The MC announced.

Saori appeared from behind stage to help Yumemi back to her feet. Though pissed and embarrassed, Yumemi hid her feelings well and congratulated Yumeko on her win.

They closed off the concert with one final song and then the event was over.

“Have a nice dinner on me!” Yumemi sparkled, shaking (Y/n)’s hand after the show before walking back to her dressing room with Saori in tow. The poor manager was sure to get an earful from the idol once they were away from polite company.

Yumeko practically collapsed in (Y/n)’s arms.

“(Y/n), I’m so tired! Carry me!” Yumeko whined.

“After all that hard work you did? Happily.” (Y/n) hoisted Yumeko onto her back and the sweaty girl squeaked joyfully, wrapping her arms around (Y/n)’s neck.

The trio talked about the show as they walked (or in Yumeko’s case, carried) through the halls, slowly making their way back to the classroom for the next class period. Mary paused in her next comment as loud, purposeful steps were quickly catching up to them.

“Jabami Yumeko!” A voice filled with contempt called from behind them.

“Oh, Sayaka! How good to see you!” Yumeko smiled, sliding off of (Y/n)’s back to try to greet the secretary with a hug.

Sayaka dodged the attempt on her life, zapping her taser in warning as she glared at the demon before her. (Y/n) wondered if all the students were allowed to carry such dangerous items at school.

“You are in violation of school rules!” Sayaka sternly informed. “You did not fill out the proper paperwork to bring an outsider into Hyakkaou.”

“Really Yumeko,” Mary scoffed, “those are like, the easiest papers to fill out.”

“I’m sorry Sayaka, it must have slipped my mind.” Yumeko apologized.

“Your apologies mean nothing to me. Escort the girl out now.” Sayaka clipped.

“All I want is to spend time with my girlfriend. Surely you could make an exception just this once, Sayaka, friend?” Yumeko pleaded.

“Don’t refer to me as your friend,” Sayaka’s jaw clenched, “better yet, don’t refer to me ever.” Then Sayaka’s expression switched from hostile to something akin to a hopeful curiousness. “Did you say girlfriend? Like dating... monogamously perhaps? As in, you aren’t looking to be dating someone else right now? You want to spend more time with her than anyone else?”

“Yes!” Yumeko nodded, smiling obliviously.

Sayaka turned her attention to (Y/n), walking up to the other girl and grasping (Y/n)’s hands tightly in hers.

“Never break up with her,” Sayaka said, the closeness of her face scaring (Y/n) slightly, “please.”

“I um, wasn’t planning on it.” (Y/n) stuttered in reply.

“My, what do we have going on here?” A silky voice called from behind the group. Sayaka gasped and removed her hands from (Y/n) as if they had burned her.

“President! Vice president! What are you doing here?” The secretary asked.

“I’ve been hearing rumors of Yumeko stirring up my aquarium with a new fish.” Kirari’s lips curled in an interested smile as she eyed the unfamiliar girl. “This must be the one, hm?”

“This is (L/n) (Y/n), my girlfriend. She’s visiting me over the long weekend and I wanted to show her around the school to maximize our time together. Unfortunately I didn’t fill out the proper forms, you’ll allow it won’t you president? Please?” Yumeko explained with a cute pout that made Sayaka livid.

“Of course.” Kirari easily complied, tapping a blue nail against her smiling, equally blue lips. “She’ll just have to gamble with me first.”

Oh no. She said it.

“Gamble?” (Y/n) looked at the president questioningly while Yumeko and Mary hosted a silent eye battle between themselves to figure out how to deescalate the situation.

“Yes, dating Yumeko, I can imagine you must be amazing at it to catch her eye,” Kirari produced a pack of cards from her blazer, “any preferences?”

“I’m not much of a gambler, neither is Yumeko. I’m not quite sure I understand.” (Y/n) answered.

“Not much of a gambler, Yumeko?” Kirari’s lips rose into a highly amused smile.

“What she means to say is that I’ve dabbled in some friendly school gambles while I’ve been here. It’s kind of a tradition at this school, (Y/n). All in good fun.” Yumeko laughed.

“Yes, try telling that to the house pets.” Kirari mused.

“Could you just, shut up for like, five minutes?” Mary seethed, turning to the masked girl standing silently at Kirari’s left, “I thought I told you to keep your sister occupied today so this exact thing wouldn’t happen.”

Ririka shyly removed her mask, looking contrite. “I tried but she wanted to know what Igarashi-san was doing.”

“Could someone please explain to me what is going on here?” (Y/n) asked holding her hands out expectantly as she looked over each face in the little group they had formed in the middle of the hall.

“How about this,” Kirari circled the girl, “you beat me in a gamble and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“And if I lose?” (Y/n) questioned.

“No penalty. This is highly entertaining for me as it stands. I just want to know if I can see what Yumeko sees in you.”

“Then I guess I don’t see the harm in it.”

“Excellent. Let’s take this party to the student council room shall we?”

Yumeko nervously twirled her ring as she watched (Y/n) sit across from the president. Kirari had all sorts of gambling dirt of her, as much as she loved (Y/n), she hoped the girl would lose this one.

“Blackjack?” Kirari asked as she shuffled the deck.

“I don’t know how to play that actually.” (Y/n) said.

“That’s fine. Texas Hold ‘Em?”

“No, sorry.”

“How about gin rummy?”

“Haven’t heard of it.”

“Thirty-one?”

“Nope.”

“Ten card no peek baseball?”

“Is that a real thing?”

“What card game do you know?” Kirari tried instead.

“...Go Fish?” (Y/n) replied.

“A woman after my own heart.” Kirari said, causing Sayaka to pout severely.

Kirari dealt the cards, spreading the remaining deck face down between them and the game was set. The pairs flowed evenly for the first couple minutes until (Y/n) had to go fish and Kirari obtained a small lead on her. (Y/n) just as quickly turned the tides a few turns later with a good guessing streak that landed her five more pairs.

The casual luck and easy going attitude (Y/n) presented while gambling with the president made Yumeko even more attracted to her girlfriend by the second, but still she hoped Kirari would turn it back around somehow.

It appeared luck wasn’t on Yumeko’s side however, as (Y/n) won the game with three more pairs then Kirari. The president smiled, mildly impressed by the outsider’s victory.

“Well then, what questions do you have for me?” She asked, shifting in her seat to cross her legs the other way.

“So this is some crazy gambling school, right?” (Y/n) asked with no preamble, not pulling any punches.

“Crazy would be subjective, but gambling is as important in this school as breathing. I’ve made sure of that.” Kirari answered.

“And Yumeko gambles.” (Y/n) said, mostly looking for acknowledgement that clarified the validity of the statement.

“Yes, one of the best in the school.” Kirari praised.

“It’s not dangerous though, right? She hasn’t done anything too drastic?”

Yumeko bowed her head, twisting her ring with a bit more force. A blush coated her skin as her heartbeat pounded in her chest. This was like a gamble in itself and oh, how intense it felt!

“Mm, hard to say.” Kirari shrugged, “I feel as though our definitions of these terms may differ.”

(Y/n) turned to face Yumeko who looked every bit the part of a scolded puppy. She didn’t need to ask any more questions. Not for Kirari to answer anyway.

“Yumeko, just what have you been up to?” (Y/n) asked, covering Yumeko’s hands to cease their twisting.

“(Y/n), I’ve been hiding something from you.” She sniffled, “I’ve been hiding it from you for a long time!”

“What is it?” (Y/n) asked gently, patting the girl’s silky hair.

“I’m, I’m a compulsive gambler!”

“Really?” (Y/n) was stunned.

“Yes, it’s true. I’ve had so many gambles I know you wouldn’t approve of.” Yumeko blinked her tears away as she allowed the truth to be out in the open. “I’ve gambled myself into millions worth of debt just so I could gamble even more, I’ve bet my finger nails, I’ve played Russian Roulette, I’ve bet my free will against become a pop idol and never being able to date again... I’m sorry you had to find it all out like this.”

“Yumeko...” (Y/n) was speechless, she didn’t know what to make of all this. Her sweet, adorable girlfriend had an intense gambling addiction that made her put herself in harm’s way on the daily?

“Please don’t break up, please don’t break up, please don’t...” Sayaka mumbled quietly to herself, rolling something that looked suspiciously like prayer beads in her hands. All the poor secretary wanted was for the snake to have a keeper that would pull her attention away from her president, was that so much to ask for?

(Y/n) sighed through her nose and pinched Yumeko’s arm harshly.

“Ow!” Yumeko whined.

“That’s for keeping secrets.” (Y/n) huffed, pinching Yumeko’s other arm, “that’s for putting yourself in dangerous situations. And this,”

Yumeko closed her eyes, waiting for another stinging pinch. Instead, she received a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“This is an apology for making you feel like you had to hide from me. I love you.”

“I love you too!” Yumeko sniffled, knocking her head into (Y/n)’s chest as she hugged her tightly.

“This doesn’t mean you’re getting a free pass anymore though, no more life changing gambles!”

“...how about three a week.” Yumeko asked shyly.

“Once a month max. You’ll kill me, my heart won’t be able to take the stress.”

“This day has been exhausting.” Mary groaned. “I thought I wasn’t going to let myself be dragged into this idiotic mess.”

“You’re a true friend, Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped.

“Ugh,” Mary ignored her, “come on Ririka, we’re running late for our next election gamble.

Ririka hurried over to the blonde and they exited the room together. (Y/n) and Yumeko followed after giving a cheery goodbye to the amused president and her disgruntled secretary.

“Lessons are over for the day,” Yumeko grinned, hugging (Y/n)’a arm as they walked towards the front gates of the school. “I bet you’re hungry, we didn’t even have time for lunch.”

“Food sounds awesome right now. Any suggestions?”

“I know a few places that might be good. We can go over them while we get ready in my apartment.”

“Sounds great.”

“Don’t let money discourage your final decision. Remember that Yumemi has graciously agreed to pay for our date tonight!”

“Oh yes, how could I forget my almost date with a pop star. How are your legs feeling by the way?”

“They’re so sore (Y/n)! Every step hurts!” Yumeko whined.

“Alright,” (Y/n) bent forward, “up, up.”

“Yay!” Yumeko cheered hopping onto (Y/n)’s back.

Yumeko refused to get off of (Y/n)’s back until they got home... which made taking the bus a little awkward.

~~~

Bonus Scene

Ryota sat stalk still in his desk, watching the hours tick by in the darkened classroom only lit by the soft light from the street lamps outside. He looked down at his notebook, filled with notes, two identical hand written copies for Mary and Yumeko. He looked back at the door, waiting for it to slide open.

“Yumeko, Mary-san,” Ryota weakly called, “please come back soon, I’m so hungry.”

#kakegurui x reader #kakegurui oneshots #Yumeko Jabami #Yumeko x reader #Yumeko Jabami x reader

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