Luffy’s simple question, asked out of the blue on a sunny and clear Sunday afternoon at the pier of the newest island you’ve washed up ashore, completely stops you in your tracks, abruptly enough that you practically stumble with interrupted momentum. He takes this in stride, stopping next to you with far more grace; his free hand, not the one that has let ice cream atop a cone drip onto his wrist, holds on to the back of your shirt just enough to keep you from hitting the ground, and helps you right yourself.
“You okay?” he asks.
Your mouth opens and closes in surprise for a split second, but you nod quickly before buying time to respond with a bite of your waffle. Luffy waits patiently, and his expression is difficult to read even for you; there’s no typical smile on his face but he doesn’t seem upset, just patient, perhaps pensive even.
Luffy’s always oddly patient despite himself, when it comes to you.
“I’m fine,” you say after two rapid chews and a swallow. You resume your pace, trying to keep yourself from looking at him. “What do you mean, marriage?”
Luffy isn’t following you; rather he’s planted in place, and you make it four steps before you turn to look at him, your heart beginning to thump just a little harder in your chest. The ice cream continues to drip but he doesn’t do anything about it - rather he keeps his gaze focused on you for a moment.
“You don’t want to get married?” he asks.
The statement is said somewhere between a question and a statement and it makes your stomach turn.
Your relationship with Luffy is confusing.
You can’t deny that he cares about you, but caring is so natural to Luffy that you might as well declare that the sky is blue in the same sentence, or that Luffy plans to be the freest man in the world.
… and therein lies the issue.
You find yourself looking around before you answer, even though no one in this bustling crowd would ever bother to interrupt your conversation, the two of you blending in as naturally as can be despite being wanted (seriously unevenly so, but both with bounties nonetheless). The notorious straw hat remains hidden on Luffy’s person, layered below a light windbreaker and you’ve long since ditched the glasses your wanted person demonstrates you wearing, the Clark Kent-Superman effect surprisingly effective.
For now the two of you are just two lovers, on a date, that may have just turned the tiniest bit uncertain.
“I-It’s not that I don’t want to get married, I’m just surprised you do,” you finally admit.
Luffy tilts his head for a moment. You grimace, but don’t say more, and he finally remembers that he’s a grown man with 3 scoops of ice cream balanced precariously on a cone and dripping onto the boardwalk and practically swallows the entire snack whole, before looking at you.
His expression remains serious despite how silly he is, and a small part of you wants to laugh, but it’s drowned out by the very loud realization that Luffy seriously plans to marry you.
“Why wouldn’t I want to?” he asks.
He takes a few bites of the remaining cone and starts walking anew. You fall into step, retracing the path of your conversation before now to see when and why he might come up with this question.
Your date started off at a buffet (which by the look on the owner’s face, he may have considered banning you, or really Luffy, from every returning); your next move was to play carnival games which Luffy was surprisingly terrible at, and desperate to cheat, stopped only by your equally desperate pleas; after that was window shopping, for candy and trinkets, and then you’d continued to walk until you passed by the ice cream seller and then-
Window shopping. You backtrack.
Your eyes had lingered too long on a towering and particularly elaborate white dress, posted proudly at the front of a bridal shop, paired with ornate, shimmering jewelry at the neckline and dangling from the mannequin’s ears. It was the type of dress that seemed completely out of place at this venue, elegant but attention-grabbing; you’d only looked for a moment, then looked away, but for a second, you considered that it was beautiful; perhaps you saw yourself in that dress for a moment, and just as quickly that thought had dissipated from your mind. A fleeting thought of marrying your captain, gone with the wind.
But here you were minutes later, and Luffy had caught on to you.
Luffy is now asking you why you are surprised he wants to get married.
And most importantly, married to you.
“Why would you, Luffy?” you ask.
He frowns.
“I asked you first.”
Why wouldn’t he marry you?
“Luffy, isn’t your goal to be the freest man in the world?” you ask him, taking another bite of your waffle. There isn’t much left, three bites tops, and then you’ll have nothing to help you pretend this conversation isn’t tearing at the soft of your soul.
Luffy’s cone is gone by now, and you hand him a wet wipe, from a packet you carried in your jacket pocket, which he looks at for a moment, but takes anyway to clean his hands.
“Yeah.”
He hasn’t made whatever connection you’re making, and his tone communicates that.
“But what does that have to do with marrying you?”
You bite your lower lip slightly.
“Ever heard of the old ‘ball and chain’ analogy?”
“Yeah, and it’s stupid,” he replies. You stop for a moment in your walk, and find yourself chuckling.
“What part is stupid?”
Luffy seems almost confused that you’re asking. His hands raise above his head and rest behind neck as you continue your stroll, a relaxed position.
“Don’t get married if you think the person is holding you back.”
You nod. A moment pauses then you stop again. He stops too, and glances at you.
“I don’t want to hold you back, Luffy.”
It’s a surprisingly difficult thing to say out loud, you find, a soft sigh added to the statement. There’s catharsis in the words hanging in the air, the verbalization of your tenuous entanglement with your lover first, captain second.
“You wouldn’t be able to. I’d always want you with me. That’s why I’m asking.”
He stops again, and turns to face you, asking the question again.
“If you don’t want to-”
Too eager perhaps, you cut him off, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Yes, I do, I just…” you trail off, and he’s still frowning, and you wonder why you’re so complicated in your emotions, but he’s far more decisive than you are, and it’s what you love so much about him.
“If so, then just tell me. When do you want to get married? Or where?”
You take a deep breath, cupping your face in his hands for a moment as you settle yourself, eyes closing gently as you think.
You want to marry him. He wants to marry you. You’re not a liability, he wants you there with him.
You say it again to yourself two times over.
Centered by your feet on the ground and your palms holding the man you love, who loves you just as fervently.
“Let me think about it, Luffy,” you ask.
Your eyes open, and he’s staring at you, and is unreadable, but you tip forward and peck him on the lips to reassure him.
“I want it to be grand.”
Luffy finally smiles that smile that rivals the sun, the moon and the stars, before he kisses you again.
“Whatever you want!”
Your hands link again.
Another moment passes, and you stop once more, then whip your head around to look at him.
“Wait, Luffy, this better not be how you propose to me.”
He looks taken aback for a second, but then grins widely, letting out a laugh.
“No, it isn’t.”
His fingers interlace more tightly with yours and he laughs a little louder this time, but you can tell the laugh is partially for him more than for you.
“It’s just nice to know that you’ll definitely say yes.”
synopsis 。。。rindou doesn't know what to do with all the origami stars you give him. he doesn't have the heart to throw them away, so he buys a jar to hold them when the stars—and memories—start piling up.
contents: rindou x fem!reader, childhood friends, perceived unrequited love, death & grief, unnamed illness, non-linear
playlist
note: girl i don't even know if rindou is still in character throughout the story, i just started vomiting words. hope you guys will still like this tho lol
𖤐 "hi rindou! i wonder if you'll even read this. if you see this, say 'star' tomorrow when we meet."
"what's this?" rindou gave you a puzzled look, eyes darting between you and the small origami lucky star in your palm.
"a star," you answered him innocently, making him deadpan at you.
"obviously, i know that." he rolled his eyes. "i just meant... what's it for?"
"it's not for anything," you trailed off, his words making you think. you couldn't let him find out you wrote something on the inner parts of the folded paper star. it'd be more fun if he found out himself, you thought. "i just made it and wanted to give it to someone. you're the only person i can think of."
rindou's gaze returned to the star. he's definitely seen them before—probably in kindergarten or elementary school, but he's never actually received one. you were gifting it to him, he understood that much. so he took it from you, albeit hesitantly.
not because he didn't want it, he just didn't know what to do with it.
"you can throw it away later if you want," you said, as if hearing his thoughts.
there's no way rindou could do that though.
rindou kept the star in his pocket. when he returned home that day, he pursed his lips at the sight of the now flattened star. he was just glad it didn't tear. he placed the star on his desk, not sparing it another thought.
the next day came, and rindou never said the word "star."
—
𖤐 "so you didn't open the star to read it? aw. i wonder what would happen if i said i liked you."
a week passed since the first star you handed him. you had accepted that he either threw it away or just didn't read it. you supposed rindou wouldn't be the type to think, "i wonder if anything is written in this tiny origami star. i should unfold it and find out." so really, what were you expecting?
perhaps giving him another star would get him curious?
"here." you pushed your hand towards him when you met him by the school gates.
"another one?" he raised an eyebrow at you, taking out one of his earphones.
you chuckled, "get used to it. i'll give you one when..." you trailed off, and rindou looked at you expectantly. "whenever i feel like it!"
he sighed, taking the star from you wordlessly before heading to class. every now and then, he'd glance over his shoulder—just to make sure you were still walking with him.
nothing interesting happened the next day. you gave him another few days, and there was still nothing. it seemed he didn't know about what you wrote... or did he find out, but he was just purposely ignoring it?
oh well, there was no point in dwelling on it. the world kept spinning.
—
𖤐 "third time's the charm. i'm getting bullied again by takeo and his friends lately."
you, in fact, were not getting bullied by takeo and his friends.
the last time it happened was years ago. it wasn't as if you were lying for rindou's attention, but you wanted confirmation that he absolutely never opens these paper stars. you knew for sure he'd give some kind of reaction if you mentioned takeo.
the memory was almost clear as crystal. origami papers on your desk, takeo sitting in front of you, lunch break, a half-empty classroom, and no teachers around.
throughout elementary school, takeo had always been a bully and a tease to whoever he felt like targeting. you weren't a special case to him, he just didn't like the way you always sat quietly, playing with the toys you made out of origami papers.
takeo tore your origami papers because he felt like doing it. he crushed your paper cranes because he felt like doing it. he crumpled them and threw them in your contorted face because he felt like doing it. he laughed at the tears you tried to hold back because he just felt like doing it.
unfortunately for him, rindou pushed him to the ground because, well, he felt like doing it.
you didn't even know who rindou was at the time. he was in the same year but different class, though you've heard about his brother, haitani ran—your senior. not long after rindou had pushed takeo to the floor and stomped on his hand, ran came strolling in to your class.
"nice, rindou." he grinned widely at his younger brother before they both turned to you. "takeo's so lame, isn't he?" ran said, picking up the paper crane takeo crushed earlier.
you were unresponsive, which was fine—they weren't really expecting anything. while ran didn't think to do any more for you than give you a tissue to wipe your tears with, rindou couldn't help eyeing your torn origami papers.
"let's go, rindou. you'll be late for your next class," ran reminded him, making his way out. he stopped in his tracks when he noticed rindou wasn't budging.
"your papers..." rindou muttered under his breath, but it was coherent enough for you to hear. ran watched for a moment before he decided to head out first.
"it's okay. i can still use them." you sniffled, rubbing your nose a little before taking a torn piece of origami paper.
"how? you can't make birds with that, right?" he tilted his head. "it's way too thin."
he watched as you grabbed a pair of scissors from your pencil case. when you started cutting the strip of paper to make it slightly thinner, rindou tilted his head in confusion. but before he can say anything, you had began folding. you made a knot and created a small pentagon shape, wrapping it over and over until there was not enough paper left to fold. the real magic happened when you used your fingers to pinch at the points of the pentagon, puffing up its shape to create a star.
that day after classes came to an end, rindou had used some of his pocket money to buy you a new set of origami paper.
—
𖤐 "i always thought you looked cool playing basketball, y'know? i'm just too shy to tell you. i also like when you sit next to me after you're done playing."
rindou noticed the star is a lot... puffier than usual. unbeknownst to him, it was just because you had more words to write at the time.
sweat trickled down rindou's forehead as he gulped down half of the water from his bottle. the puppy sticker you had pasted on it a long time ago was still there, it's a little faded—probably from all the washing it's been through. seeing it always warmed your heart, and you couldn't help but tease him about it sometimes.
"why don't you just scrub it off? it's hanging by a thread at this point," you questioned him. rindou exhaled deeply as he put down the bottle, panting slightly.
"i don't know. it's just there." he shrugged and you huffed at his dry response.
"seriously? i thought you didn't like that sticker."
"i never said that," rindou denied almost immediately. "did it... seem that way?" he added, his hesitance made you laugh.
"so you like the sticker? is that why you kept it?"
"no."
"then why do you keep it?"
rindou sighed, almost groaning at your questions. "i dunno, okay? it just won't come off," he claimed as he stuffed his towel and water bottle into his bag. "now, get up. i'm walking you home."
you followed him suit in silence for a while, a small smile lingering on your face. "i saw you finally scored a three-pointer, by the way."
rindou flashed you a cocky grin. "yeah? looked cool, right?"
"hm, i think you looked cooler when i saw you missing three shots in a row in your backyard."
"oh, shut up. why were you even at my place yesterday?"
"i wanted to try your mom's cookies."
—
𖤐 "it's getting a little hard to breathe, rin. i don't maybe it's 'cause you're so breathtaking!"
rindou never really liked it when you walked tailing behind him. he felt more at ease when you were beside him instead, even better if you were on the inner part of the sidewalk.
at times, he'd find you walking slow—too slow for his liking. there were normally two reactions to this. the first, he would grab your wrist and pull you with him. rindou didn't need to do it too hard, he just wanted to make sure you were still with him. the second, he would simply let you, but not without looking back to check every now and then. it usually happens when you were strolling around the neighbourhood. he hid it well whenever he worried about you, but why he felt that way to begin with was a question mark to even himself.
he always tried to convince himself that it's just because you were a klutz, but it didn't feel entirely right.
as time went on, you grew close enough for him to tease and play around with you more. in a friendly way, of course. he was always careful not to take things too far. after all, he didn't want to be one of the reasons for your tears.
so when you were walking particularly slow one day—your three steps equating to his one single step, rindou purposely walked faster. you were just in the neighbourhood, so he wasn't worried about anything bad happening.
"bet you can't catch me!" he called out, a cocky grin stretching from ear to ear.
and you really did try.
you could still run. you could still run fast enough to catch up to rindou's speed-walking, but his speed-walking turned to running. you knew you couldn't be as fast as him, but you didn't think you'd have to stop so soon to catch your breath.
your hands had found your knees as you bent, head pounding slightly. concern flashed across rindou's face when he could no longer hear your footsteps. when he came rushing back to you, you gave him a grin.
"i know better than to try you in a race, rindou. you'd surely win!" you laughed. you laughed, but rindou felt unsettled.
he blinked at you, handing you his water bottle. "here," he said, and you blinked at him too. rindou urged you to take it as he nodded.
you took the half-empty bottle in your hand, eyeing it hesitantly. twisting the cap open, you tilted it for a sip, pressing your lips against the spot where his had just been. the thought immediately spread warmth across your cheeks, contrasting the cool liquid traveling down your throat.
he was blushing too, but you wouldn't know with his back turned to you. "don't stay up too late. you need the energy if you wanna keep up with me."
rindou held your hand for the first time that day, and he didn't let go until you returned home.
—
𖤐 "i told myself i'd confess after we graduated junior high, but i guess i haven't changed. i'm still a coward."
by the end of junior high, rindou's jar was starting to pile up with all the paper stars you gave him. he had bought it when he received his tenth star. it wasn't a big jar so it didn't take long to fill—it was almost full and rindou had lost count of how many you'd made.
you were also spending an awful lot more time at his place than usual, and even started getting along with ran better.
by the end of junior high, you made a decision to tell him. tell him that you like him, straight to his face. it's clear that he never unraveled any of the stars to read the tiny letters written on them, so you thought, it's about time you told him soon.
and yet, the words never came out.
"i..." you said, trying to ignore his expectant look. "i hope we do well in high school together," you blurted out instead of your confession, preparing yourself for rindou's laughing fit over how corny you were being. his laughs never came out.
instead, he nodded. he simply nodded.
"you gonna give me another star?" he asked. he began to expect it now, the origami lucky stars.
you broke into a fond, gentle smile at his words. your right hand went down to your blazer's pocket, fishing out a paper star. slightly bigger than the ones you usually gave him.
"the strip of paper was thicker for this one. it's a special day after all." you chuckled, placing the star on rindou's already outstretched hand.
—
𖤐 "i miss you a lot, rindou. but you shouldn't miss me too much, okay? hehe <3"
rindou had no idea he'd be going to high school without you.
he remembered you clearly telling him you'd go to the same school as him. well, you more so implied it. your idle chatter with rindou normally took place at school during break, or after school when you're sitting on the bleachers before heading home together, but also on his rooftop whenever the weather was good enough to stargaze under.
"i'm not so excited for high school," rindou had said one time, making you tear your gaze away from the sparkling night sky.
"why?" you questioned and he deadpanned at you.
"maths will be harder, obviously." his response elicited a laugh from you.
"you'll be fine! i'll pay extra attention in class and take notes for us to go over together," you reassured him.
but here you were, nowhere to be seen.
he only got the news about you transferring schools after the semester started. admittedly, he was a little bit pissed. could you not have told him beforehand?
rindou couldn't be upset for too long though. you still visited his house every week and as usual, you gave him a star.
and as usual, he'd never unfold them. as usual, they went straight to his jar.
every week turned to every day—you were always with him, always coming over to his place after his classes ended. even rindou didn't have all that free time, but you were okay with it. most days, you preferred to lie in his bed and do nothing, maybe fall asleep for a while. you rarely wanted to go out and do anything now, claiming that you just wanted to hang around here.
when he asked you why, your answer was something along the lines of, "i like it better here." and it never failed to alarm him.
you always refused to tell him any more than that.
—
the last time you came over to his place, there were plenty of moments when rindou thought you were acting weird.
the first instance was when he was in the bathroom, you were inside his mom's bedroom while she was cooking in the kitchen. he would know, because just as he was coming out, you came out of the room at the same time. rindou always thought it was an unspoken rule to not go into each other's parents' bedrooms because it was... odd, yet you were acting like you did nothing of the sort.
the second weird thing you did was hug his brother. even ran didn't have the slightest idea of what was going on, but he played along smoothly, teasing you for "preferring him over rindou."
rindou couldn't even bring himself to be jealous. he couldn't bother himself with asking why ran got to hug you first and not him. he especially couldn't when you immediately retreated to his room after eating dinner with him and his family at the table. you've been in his room before though, so that wasn't the weirdest part.
the weird part was when you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down onto the bed with you.
you were laughing the hardest he's ever heard you laugh in the past few months. "look at your face, it's so red!" you may have laughed too hard though, and you started coughing a little bit.
"quit it, what the hell are you doing?" rindou exclaimed, flustered. he meant for his words to come out lightheartedly, but fell silent when he realized his tone was a bit too harsh for his liking.
despite that, the smile you wore remained unwavering.
you nuzzled your head into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. "can we stay like this for a while?" you asked, and instead of an answer, he wordlessly draped a blanket over both of your bodies before snuggling a little closer.
"what's up with you today, hm?" rindou questioned, his eyes becoming droopy and his words a little slurred.
"nothing. just missed you," you answered, closing your eyes.
"you saw me yesterday."
"i wish i could see you every day though."
rindou raised an eyebrow. "but you have been coming over every day," he said, and you chuckled at his words.
"i might not get to do this all the time, y'know? what if i make plans or have other places to be in?"
that much is obvious, rindou thought as he pursed his lips. your words had sent him deep into thought, and he found himself imagining things he didn't want to think about. his pounding heart took over his senses for a moment.
rindou is a teenager after all, so the thought had finally crossed his mind that day—is this what it was like to have someone special to you? to hold them close, walk with them hand-in-hand, and feel the need to shield them from anything that would harm them? to want them to stay in your life forever?
you both had fallen silent, it remained that way for a few minutes. the only thing you could hear was the sound of each other's soft breathing. rindou had wondered if you were thinking of him too, the way he thought of you.
"you didn't give me a star today."
your eyes fluttered open at his words to look up at him. he had a neutral expression on, but in your mind, he kind of resembled a wet puppy.
"did you want one?" you teased, a grin appearing on your face when he rolled his eyes.
"you started giving me one every day these past few weeks," he said, jogging your memory. "and you haven't given me one today, so i was just wondering."
"aw, so you noticed." your hand found its way to his cheek. rindou visibly froze and reddened at your gesture, and his eyes widened when your gaze travelled down to his lips. "i might have... something better than a paper star," you whispered, leaning closer to softly press your lips against his.
he was wide-eyed when you kissed him, your hand slightly cold against his cheek. but rindou quickly melted into the kiss once he'd processed what you were doing. tilting his head and placing a hand behind your head, he deepened the kiss and let out a sigh of contentment.
you were acting weird again, he thought. but maybe you really were better than paper stars.
perhaps it was the thrill of having his first kiss, but he found himself looking forward to seeing you again after you left.
much to his dismay, rindou wouldn't hear from you again since that day.
—
everything feels blurry now.
rindou doesn't respond when spoken to, not even when people tell him that they're "sorry for his loss." even when your mother had gasped earlier upon finding out that he had no idea about your illness, all rindou could do was nod or shake his head, as though words had abandoned him completely. his expression so lifeless, you'd think the funeral was for him.
the words are barely coherent as your mother explains what happened to you. again, all he could do was nod. wordlessly. absentmindedly. he's in another world, forcing ran to do all the talking and responding for him.
rindou hates seeing the way you look right now. laying in the cramped casket when you should be lying next to him on his bed. your hands placed on your stomach when they should be cupping his cheeks. and your eyes closed when they should be looking into his, letting him admire the way they glimmer. the thought that they would look hollow if pried open now sends a chill down his spine.
he's known for most of his life that everyone's time would come eventually, inevitably. to be human means to be impermanent. to have life, death needed to coexist. he knows all of that already, but why? why did your time have to come so quickly? why couldn't he know about this sooner?
did you disappear for a week to prepare him for this exact moment? to prepare him for a life without you? he wonders hopelessly.
just when things start to become clearer, just when he figures out that you're the person he wants in his life, everything becomes muddy again. what was he supposed to do now? the thought of moving on felt impossible at this moment, couldn't he just go with you?
your mother approaches him with a small drawstring pouch in her hands. she doesn't say anything at first as she simply opens the pouch, and rindou feels slightly more grounded upon seeing its contents.
more origami stars.
"rindou," your mother speaks up. "y/n wanted me to give these to you, and she wanted you to do something with them."
—
rindou fishes out the pouch from his pocket before taking his blazer off in a hurry, discarding it somewhere in his room. he sits down at his desk, opens the pouch, and dumps all of the paper stars out in front of him. he goes over them for a while, recalling your mother's instructions.
"save the purple star for last."
picking out the purple-coloured star, he sets it to the side. rindou takes a random star and begins unraveling the origami.
he's met with words you had written with a black pen. though your handwriting was legible enough to read, he couldn't understand the message. his eyebrows furrow as he mumbles the words to himself.
𖤐 "doesn't she sound cute? she loved to stargaze like we did!"
rindou frantically opens another star, but is careful not to rip it.
𖤐 "i saw that lucky stars are usually gifts to symbolize good luck, love, and support."
he grows even more confused. were you seriously leaving him behind with a puzzle to solve?
𖤐 "did you know? the origins of lucky stars began with a tale of a girl named hoshi."
he opens another. the message written is far more alarming, causing him to tense up.
𖤐 "but no matter how many stars i fold, i can't seem to save myself."
it didn't take him long to react, he was immediately unraveling every single star. except for the purple one.
his eyes lit up when he found a message that seemed to match one of those he previously opened.
seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to at least two hours. rindou has never found himself cooped up in his room for this long that even ran began to notice his brother's absence.
"not having dinner? mom's gonna be mad that you ignored her calling you downstairs." ran leans against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching his brother go through every strip of paper, mixing and matching them.
"i'll eat later."
ran raises an eyebrow, uncrossing his arms as he entered the room. he looks over rindou's shoulder for a few moments and his mind begins to process what he's doing.
"this one goes here, no?" ran points to a strip of paper, making rindou pause. the latter blinks and tries his brother's suggestion.
the next few minutes go by faster with ran's help. rindou feels confident about the order now and sits back, going over the entire message.
𖤐 "hi, rindou! if you're reading this, you probably already know what happened to me."
𖤐 "i wonder how much you'll miss me. if you see your basketball moving on its own, just know it's my ghost! hehe."
𖤐 "anyway, i saw that lucky stars are usually gifts to symbolize good luck, love, and support."
𖤐 "so if you wondered why i gave you so much of them, i guess i just wanted to show how much i cherished you."
𖤐 "i don't think you ever opened them to read the messages though, but i'm not hurt by it!"
𖤐 "i'm mostly glad 'cause i know you never wanted to ruin them."
𖤐 "did you know? the origins of lucky stars began with a tale of a girl named hoshi."
𖤐 "doesn't she sound cute? she loved to stargaze like we did!"
𖤐 "one night, she saw the stars began to fall during a meteor shower and she was sad about the stars falling."
𖤐 "so she started folding paper stars because she believed it would save each star that fell."
𖤐 "but the stars kept falling so she got the help of other children in the village and they folded stars together."
𖤐 "they folded thousands of paper stars and soon, the night sky began to shine with stars again."
𖤐 "i really liked the story, it was the thing that kept me going besides our friendship."
𖤐 "i wanted to believe i could live a little longer and be saved, just like the stars in the story."
𖤐 "and i like to think that we're both stars. you always shined so bright to me, rindou."
𖤐 "your glow was quite contagious too, but i think my light is slowly dimming."
𖤐 "no matter how many stars i fold, i can't seem to save myself."
𖤐 "i lo you can open the final star now!"
rindou reaches out for the purple lucky star to unfold it, but not without squinting at the scribbled letters on the last star.
𖤐 "go to your mom's bedroom. look under the cushion of her window seat."
rindou only realizes now that ran had left his room a while ago, but he pays it no mind. he rushes to his mother's room, entering without knocking. "rindou?" she says, startled. he doesn't respond as he makes his way to the window seat, pushing the pillows to the side and lifting up the cushion. nothing.
he lifts the other side of the cushion and finds a usb flash drive hidden underneath it.
rindou takes it and places the pillows back in their original spot before dashing out of the room. "close the door!" his mom reminds him, and he does just that before going back to his room.
he immediately plugs the usb to his pc to find just one file. it seems to be a voice recording titled, "to rindou." he wastes no time clicking on it.
"hey... i didn't want to write this one down, because i really wished i could have told you in person." the sound of your voice plays on his computer, and his heart twists upon hearing you again. "i love you, rindou—and i don't just mean it as a friend. i'm sure you know that already but i had to reassure you just in case."
"it's okay if you don't feel the same, but if you do..." he doesn't miss the subtle way your voice cracked, and you paused before shakily continuing. "i'll be really happy. i'll be leaving with many regrets, but you'll never be one of them. i lived a good life knowing i had you."
as your voice recording comes to end, his room is silent. it's silent until he hears the faint sound of something dripping on his table. it was only then he became aware of the saltiness on the corner of his cracked lip, and the tears staining his cheeks.
—
everyday, rindou would unfold one star.
it's become a routine now, and he was nearly halfway through the jar. he'd wake up and the first thing he does is walk to his desk and read a message you left behind. he'd check the time on his phone after doing so. he didn't care if he was running late for something—you're a priority even though you're no longer with him.
ran notices this new routine as well at some point. perhaps it was rindou's way of grieving, he thought.
everyday, rindou would make a lucky star. writing your name and the date on the strip of paper before folding it into a star. despite knowing you couldn't be saved with lucky stars like in the tale, he hoped that you could be more at peace, knowing that he still thought about you, still loved you, and that it would never change.
occasionally, he'd write other things on them the way you used to. words he never got to say to you in person.
𖤐 "i actually really liked the sticker you put on my bottle back in junior high. so i never took it off."
every year, rindou visits you at least twice. on your birthday and your death anniversary. every time he did, he'd sit in front of your tombstone and fold ten lucky stars for you. he doesn't know why he makes ten of them either, it just felt right. it felt like a number you'd choose.
at some point, rindou thought he'd give you all the stars in the night sky one day, but you beat him to it.
sometimes, he still wished you could've come back that day when you left him with an abundance of stars. real or paper, it didn't matter. you didn't need to come back with thousands of stars. there was only one you, and that would've been enough.
but as long as he had the jar of stars you gave him, and strips of origami paper to make more, your light could never dim. you were brighter than any star he's ever seen.
When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out.
Word Count: 4.3k
When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.
He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.
You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.
But then he showed up.
Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.
You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.
"Relax, I know these guys."
Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.
Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.
"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"
Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.
"Came to collect what he owes us."
Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?
Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.
"How much does he owe?"
"Sis really I can-"
Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!
Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.
"How much do you need tonight?"
The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.
You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.
"Let's go then."
When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?
You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.
The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.
"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"
"We'll talk about it later, ok?"
Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.
When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.
"You got a boyfriend?"
You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.
"No. I don't."
He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.
"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."
"Why not?"
The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.
He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.
"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."
"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."
"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"
He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.
He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.
"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."
You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?
He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"
You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"
He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."
You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?
You take the card.
"Iiko [good girl]."
He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."
He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.
You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.
"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"
"I was drunk, okay?"
You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.
His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?
The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.
He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.
It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.
Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.
He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."
He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."
You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.
"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"
He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."
"Perv," you mutter into your drink.
On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.
But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.
"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."
You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"
Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."
When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.
A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.
But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"
"No."
"Then no."
He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.
He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."
When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?
Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.
"Let me teach you Japanese."
You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.
"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."
You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.
"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."
"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."
He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.
"What does it mean?"
"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."
He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.
Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.
"Say goodbye like I taught you."
"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."
He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."
You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.
Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.
He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.
"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."
When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.
"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"
He flops down into your lap before you can say no.
You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.
Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.
There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.
He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.
"Go on a date with me."
You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.
And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.
"Okay."
His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.
"Good. You'll like it."
By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.
But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.
"My brother's landlord-"
Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.
His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.
He looks good. Dangerously good.
He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.
You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."
He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"
He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.
He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.
"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.
"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."
"Explains why you asked me out then."
"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"
"I'm your girl? Since when?"
"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."
Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.
You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.
"You had fun tonight?"
"Yes. More than I expected honestly."
He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.
"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."
You clasp your hands together behind his neck.
"You liar."
He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.
Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.
His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.
You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.
When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.
He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.
"How much for tonight?"
"What?"
His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.
"How much to take you home?"
A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.
God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?
And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?
"Are you serious?"
"Obviously. How much do you charge?"
You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.
The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.
He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.
Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.
Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.
"I'm not for sale."
The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.
"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."
The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.
He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.
When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.
"I can't buy you."
"No."
"But I want you."
You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."
You shut the door without turning back.
He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?
But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.
When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.
You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?
Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.
"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."
You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"
He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."
"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."
He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."
That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.
"So why not just pay someone else?"
You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?
"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."
A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.
Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?
And yet...
You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.
And still you want him.
You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."
He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.
"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."
You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.
You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."
"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."
You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."
He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."
"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."
He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."
You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.
"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.
He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."
"But I am?"
"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.
"Tell me a secret about yourself."
It's his turn to study you. "A secret."
"That's what I said."
He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.
You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.
But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.
He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.
"It's incredible."
He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.
He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.
"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."
You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"
He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."
You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."
"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."
You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.
You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.
Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.
"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."
He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.
"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."
He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.
"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."
The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."
The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.
Summary: You have a big, fat crush on your regular—Gotham’s very own friendly neighborhood coffee addict, Tim Drake.
A/N: Please compliment me about the banner I worked very hard on it <3 Also Happy New Year!!!
Getting a job in food service was honestly the last thing you wanted to do. You had heard enough horror stories from your friends who had taken many summer jobs unlike you. They often complained of insufferable superiors, bad working hours, and even worse pay and even though their stories of annoying Karens were extremely entertaining, you didn't think you'd be any good at handling them yourself. Unless your boss was okay with you cussing them out.
So, when your parents brought up you getting a job, you had vehemently refused. It's not like you particularly needed the money, however, they made a good point about needing to gain experience and how you were practically a rotting pile of flesh since you had begun summer break.
You couldn't argue with their points, even you knew that you needed to get back into a routine and get some fresh air. However, a job as a barista was the last thing you wanted to do.
But when your parents mentioned that you'd be working at your aunt's cafe, you were quick to change your tune. You always had a blast with her, and she'd definitely pay you well, lest she face the rath of her older sister, your mother. Plus, she often claimed that you were her favourite niece, despite not having any other but you supposed it was the thought that counted. Plus, you'd make extra money that you could use for pretty much anything.
So, now adorned in an apron, you stood behind the counter and took orders. Your aunt oversaw the pastry making and baking while you were in charge of the register and making drinks.
The thing you liked the most about your aunt's cafe was that it was a rare find for many customers. The cafe was the perfect space for people to sit in the quiet and get some work done. There was rarely ever any rush unless a big party came, however even then you were never really spread thin. You suppose you should feel bad that your aunt wasn't getting much business but she more than made up for the lack of customers with her overpriced coffee and cakes. But you would never tell her that. Besides, she made most of her profits from custom cake orders.
That's not to say that you didn't get any customers, you had very many loyal regulars that were always polite and would always strike up a conversation with you. Most of them were residents from the high-rise building above the shop so they were usually pretty wealthy and thus knew how to tip well.
And of course, the most loyal customer of them all, Gotham’s very own coffee addict; Tim Drake.
You take back your previous statement; he was definitely the thing you liked the most about the cafe.
You would have been down bad if he had just been just good looking; with blue eyes that were unusually bright and clear, like as though God cut the fabric of the afternoon sky and the clear blue ocean and made his irises with them. His pale skin and dark hair definitely made them seem even brighter.
He was so good looking that your customer-service-smile had frozen onto your face when he first entered the cafe, barely hearing his order over the thumping of your heartbeat and your brains incessant chatter trying to tell you to pay attention to what he was saying. Eventually, you had to apologize and ask him to repeat his order in your stupor, giving the excuse that you were new even though you had been there for more than 2 weeks.
He just smiled politely and told you not to worry before fishing his wallet and paying for his drink, tipping 50%. He wasn't just gorgeous but also well-mannered and sweet. You were down so catastrophically, cataclysmically bad.
The next time he came in, you learnt his name by pretending you needed to write it down on the cup and he casually commented how you didn't really do that last time. You said it was because he had been the only one in the store last time even though there was only one additional customer there. And you all were aware that you didn't bother to ask for the other customer’s name.
Tim continued to come almost every morning for the next couple of weeks and once you learnt how to actually comprehend the words coming out of his mouth instead of just listening to angelic singing every time he looked at you, you realized he was actually very interesting.
He'd always strike up a conversation with you and sometimes you'd take your lunch break and sit with him at the table while you talked. He was hilarious and intelligent and creative and the more you talked with him the more your plain attraction turned into affection before you knew it.
"I see you like Red Robin." Tim commented casually, noticing the insignia pin that you had on your apron. You glanced at the enamel pin that you had bought from a bodega on an impulse out of instinct before nodding, "Yeah, he's my favourite amongst the bats."
"Oh really? How come? Most people really prefer Nightwing, like me."
You shrugged, "I dunno, I just feel like he doesn't get enough appreciation as compared to the others. Plus, he makes the papers the least often."
"So, what? You felt bad that no one pays attention to him?"
You shook your head, clutching the screen as you typed in his order that you had already memorized. A brown sugar shaken espresso that you had convinced him to try just once, and he had immediately been hooked onto. You obviously added a couple extra shots of espresso for his caffeine addicted self.
"On the contrary, the fact that he's not seen in the paper probably means that he's getting the job done quietly and efficiently. Or maybe not. But that's just my guess. He's not bad looking either."
Tim chuckled, passing you his card, "Don't let him hear you say that; he might just swoon at the compliment."
"Well, I haven't actually seen his face, so I can't say with full certainty."
Tim lingered by the counter while you made his coffee, speaking loudly due to the absence of customers at this time. You had once mentioned that this was your least busy time; you wondered if he visited during that time, so he'd get to talk to you for longer.
You shook your head, reminding yourself not to get a big head as you pulled a double shot of espresso, quickly adding it to the shaking glass with brown sugar.
"I bet I’m better looking."
You really hadn't meant to laugh as hard as you had; you just pictured Tim Drake, with his posh posture and Gotham elite personality, sniffing at Red Robin as he tried to critique and compare looks. You were fairly sure that Red Robin was a head taller than him as well. The more you thought about it, the harder you laughed.
When you finally managed to wipe the tears from your eyes, Tim was still standing at the counter with a star-struck expression, pink beginning to paint his porcelain skin in beautiful blooms. You bit your lip, smiling in apology. He must have been quite embarrassed at your boisterous laughter.
"S-Sorry, you caught me off-guard." You explained, still giving him a sheepish smile as you grabbed a napkin and straw for him. The red had made its way up to his ears and down his neck before disappearing underneath the hoodie he was wearing.
Great, you had a crush on the guy and just laughed at the thought of him being better looking compared to a guy you had never even seen before.
"It's fine, it was meant to be a joke, so I suppose I’m flattered."
"No, I was being mean, you're definitely better looking." You teased, "If I ever meet Red Robin, I’ll definitely let him know that."
"I’ll hold it to you." He joked, grabbing his drink.
Having a crush was way more physically taxing than you had remembered it being. Every time Tim was around you, your heart slammed so sharply against your ribcage you would get breathless, and your stomach would twist into so many knots you'd find your abdomen getting sore.
You'd grow visibly excited when it was around the time for him to enter the store, making sure everyone else's orders were fulfilled so that you could give him as much of your undivided attention.
After being hopelessly infatuated and pining for him for a while, you had thought that you had gotten used to the incessant butterflies flapping their fingers against the walls of your stomach. However, Tim continued to prove you wrong.
You had just finished wiping down the steam wand of the espresso machine, when the bell above the store door had jingled, telling you that you had a customer.
When your eyes landed on the man standing behind the register, you couldn't help but freeze, stomach squeezing so tightly you could feel your heart crawl up to your throat, stopping you from welcoming him inside.
Tim Drake was wearing a suit.
His hair was styled for the first time you had ever seen him; dark tresses neatly gelled away from his face aside for a couple strands that tickled his nose.
You clenched the cloth in your hands so tightly you could feel the rough fabric beginning to slightly burn your skin. A part of you wanted to collapse into a puddle on the floor, already knowing how weak your knees had gotten at the site of him adjusting his watch. Oh, you wanted to dissolve into a pile of warm syrup, and you bit your lips to hide a dopey, lovesick grin.
Another, more repressed part, wanted to grab his tie in a single fist and yank the handsome man toward you, climbing over the counter and kissing him all over until his white shirt was stained with your lip gloss, his immaculate hair was messed up by your fingers and his cologne had rubbed off on your skin instead. You forced that part of yourself into the corner because she seriously needed a time-out.
"Um, hey?"
This was the first time he had spoken, clearly noticing how you just stood awkward frozen in time. Oh god, his voice was so much more attractive than you remembered. This wasn't fair.
"H-Hi, where are you going off to so prim and proper?" You asked, pulling yourself together by pinching your thigh so painfully that you could feel a bruise beginning to form.
"Oh, I just have a meeting at work. I do most of the work from home, but I’m needed in the office today." He explained, handing you his card like clockwork and you nodded, stepping away so you could start making his drink.
"Wow, how adult." You mused, shaking the tumbler quickly before pouring it into his cup and handing it to him.
"You look good, by the way," His warm fingertips grazed against your own when you handed him the tissue and straw. You watched as a bashful smile grew on his face at your compliment, making your heart flutter like a feather floating through the wind, "Much better than Red Robin."
He rolled his eyes, small smile turning into a full-blown grin.
***
This was the first time since you had met Tim that he hadn't come to the bakery alone and thus it would be the first time in a very long time that you actually had to take the order instead of automatically input his drink order.
Unfortunately, it would also be the last time you would be taking his order. You were supposed to work at the coffee shop for the rest of the month, however you had gotten an opportunity from your professor to be a part of his research team for the next semester and he required you to begin early. Which meant that you would no longer have the time to work for your aunt.
You had yet to tell Tim, upset at the thought of not being able to see him every morning from now onwards.
You had thought long and hard about it last night after you had confirmed your participation on the research team; you didn't want it to be the last time that you spoke to Tim tomorrow, you wanted him in your life.
So, you came to the conclusion that you would finally confess to him. You didn't want to continue the pining and end up in the purgatory that is the friendzone so you figured it would be the least risky to admit your feelings to him on your last day there. If he said no, you'd no longer have to run into him again every morning. If anything, he might be relieved that his regular coffee runs wouldn't be awkward from now on.
However, there was one new detail that was going to make your plan more embarrassing—
"This is my older brother, Dick." Tim introduced and you nodded, recalling when he talked about his extremely big family. Also, there was no one in city who wasn't aware of the Gotham prince, Dick Grayson, the oldest son of billionaire Bruce Wayne. Your eyes flittered between the both of them; despite being adopted, they shared a striking resemblance to each other.
You gave him a kind smile, "It's nice to finally meet you, Tim talks about you a lot."
"Good things, I hope." He responded, ever the ray of sunshine and you found yourself turning toward him like a lone sunflower. You realized he had that effect on people, the other customers also were privy to his presence. It was almost like he had a halo shining on the top of his head. The term 'Prince of Gotham' was certainly well-earned.
"Those are state secrets." You joked, playfully winking at him and he gave you a good-natured grin.
"So, what will you be having today?"
Tim ordered his regular and Dick got a matcha along with a vegan cheese tart for 'Dami' who you assumed was Tim's youngest brother Damian.
Tim held his card out for you to pay for their drinks and you inhaled sharply, digging your heel into your other foot to strengthen your resolve.
It was now or never, (Y/N).
You shook your head, trying your best to remain nonchalant even though your stomach was taking a rollercoaster ride, and you pins began to prick at your toes from how hard you were stepping on it with your other foot.
"it's on the house."
Tim tried to protest but you shut him down, not even making any moves to try and take his card from him, only handing him his receipt with the order number on it.
"Don't let your boss find out you're handing out freebies to everyone." He teased, sliding his card back into his wallet and you dug your nails into your palm, trying not to chicken out in the last second.
"Actually, the freebies are only for the cute customers that the barista has a crush on." You replied smoothly, grabbing the filter for the espresso machine and not looking back at Tim, afraid of his reaction.
Oh god, was your voice shaking? You tried your best to remain collected on the outside even though on the inside your heart was erupting like a volcano, magma flowing through your veins and setting your entire body ablaze.
You spared a small glance at his older brother, embarrassed that he was here to witness this. A sizzling heat began to run up your neck and to your cheeks, fingers stiff as you tamped the coffee.
A chuckle brought you out of your stupor and your stomach sank. It wasn't the usual laugh that Tim had, instead a mirthless sound that made you look back up at him, only to find him staring at the receipt you had given him, now crumpled him in a tight fist.
"Glad I’m the exception then," He said through gritted teeth, "I’m gonna go."
He left without making so much as another glance at you and your cheeks coloured in humiliation when you had realized his brother had seen that whole interaction with an equal expression of shock and pity that made you quickly bite down on an ice cube to prevent any tears from lining your lashes.
You quickly made the drinks, reminding yourself that it was okay since you were never gonna see him again, keeping your customer service smile on until his brother had left the store and then some before you finally let it fall.
***
"Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?" Dick asked, placing Tim's coffee order on the console of the bat computer, already finished his matcha. The coffee had long been watered down; the ice had melted in the Gotham heat on his walk back home since Tim had just left him there at the coffee shop.
The younger brother ignored him, staring at the screen with a glare that began to get increasingly annoyed. When it became clear to him that Dick wasn't going to move from his side until he got an answer, Tim finally sighed "I’m sorry for ditching you at the coffee shop."
"Apology accepted but that's not what I meant. Why were you so mean to that poor girl? I mean if you didn't like her, you could've at least turned her down gently."
Tim scoffed, incredibly peeved, "Are you stupid? She was clearly asking you out! I've been going there for like 2 months now and she's never been so blushy and nervous before you walked in there with your stupid tall height and stupid big grin and stupid good looks!"
Dick's jaw dropped open; blue eyes wide with shock. Wasn't Timothy meant to be like the smartest and most logical one amongst them? As far as he knew he was also acknowledged by R’as Al Ghul himself as a remarkable detective. Hell, he had discovered the dark knight's secret identity when he was nine.
And yet—
"Are you fucking stupid? She wasn't asking me out! That cute little flirty compliment was clearly directed at you!"
Tim still looked upset, though Dick could clearly see that he was beginning to doubt his conclusions. Thank goodness, he didn't inherit Bruce’s or his brother's stubbornness.
"So, you like her but thought she was hitting on me, so you got all emo?" Dick deftly deduced, watching as an embarrassed rash spread across his pale skin, "Dude, you really hurt her feelings. I think she was about to cry when you walked out like that."
You had really tried to look like Tim's exit hadn't affected you and to an untrained eye it probably would've looked like that, but Dick noticed how you were chewing down on your bottom lip til it bled just to prevent from crying.
Tim's eyes now raised to him, now completely uncertain with a touch of guilt and Dick sighed.
He wasn't the son of the greatest detective for nothing, but it wouldn't take years of training to know what a lovesick boy looked like. He had found out that Tim had been visiting this particular coffee shop every day at the same time when he flat out refused to have Alfred’s French press in favour of driving across town to the penthouse, he'd sometimes sleep in just to get coffee.
Tim would never refuse Alfred’s French press unless he was unconscious. Or dead.
Which lead Dick to do some sleuthing.
Didn't take any effort to check his credit card statement and find out that he had been visiting this particular store every single day. Which is really the reason that Dick tagged along that day, to meet the girl who had so clearly captured his little brother's attention.
He was honestly giddy when he realized that you were shooting your shot right in front of him. Oh, he could see the wedding happening before his eyes already, where he would very obviously make his groomsman speech, telling the crowd how he had been there the day you finally became a couple.
But Tim merely crushed up the paper receipt in his hand before storming out and he was left alone in the coffee shop, having to watch as Tim's future wife kept her gaze anchored to the floor while she tried to make the coffee that she had just given them for free. He left a fifty in the tip jar right then.
This would not be the last time that his brother would do something stupid throughout the duration of your relationship. He supposed you might have dodged a bullet due to the misunderstanding but Dick was biased toward his brother and so he felt obligated to try and get you both together.
"Are you sure?"
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, "Tim, she didn't even speak to me after you left because she was so upset that the guy she had a crush on brutally turned her down."
His eyes narrowed still, "Are you sure?"
This time Dick had had it. He grabbed Tim's ear, unaffected by his shouts of pain and curses at him as he dragged him toward the elevator, "Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you go back to that coffee shop, apologize for being a jackass and ask her out. And you better take her to a fancy ass restaurant on your first date to make up for this mess."
"Okay! Okay!" Tim conceded, finally ripping his brother's hand from his ear and he crossed his arms, "You know, this wouldn't have even happened if you hadn't been a nosy ass and followed me to the coffee shop."
"This wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot either."
***
Tim had been silent during the patrol and while he wasn't the most talkative, it was unlike him to be this quiet. They were already an hour into the patrol and batman had yet to hear this voice of his son over the comms, but he didn't ask about it. He'd inquire about his son's personal life after patrol when he was back to being his parent and not his partner.
Something was definitely off however, since even Nightwing was more on the quiet side of the spectrum that night, which was extremely out of the ordinary.
It all had to do with what happened right before patrol--
Tim really hoped that Jason wouldn't kill him for stealing one of his motorcycles that he left at the manor but honestly it was the fastest way for him to get to the coffee shop without getting stuck in Gotham traffic. And really if Jason didn't want anyone to be using his motorcycle, he really shouldn't have left it in the garage with the keys there for anybody to take. Hadn't he learnt his lesson after Damian had tried to take one of Bruce’s cars?
Even though there were still a couple of hours for closing time, when Tim entered the store, you were nowhere to be found. Hearing the bell, your aunt had answered from the kitchen instead, telling him that she'd be right there in a moment.
When she finally emerged, wiping her hands on her apron, she stopped, recognizing Tim as a regular but he could tell that she didn't really know anything about him or even his name, "What can I get you?"
He angled his neck, trying to see if someone was in the kitchen but when he couldn't spot anything he turned back to your aunt who waited patiently, "Um, is (Y/N) not here?"
"Ah," She shook her head, "Since it was her last day working here, I let her go early."
Oh, Tim really should've had his coffee today because the caffeine withdrawal was starting to make him hear things. He could've sworn he just heard your aunt say that it was your last day working at the coffee shop.
"Last day? What do you mean?"
Tim returned to the Batcave just in time for patrol, shoulders hunched over and a pitiful frown on his face that had answered Nightwing’s question before he could even ask how it went. He didn't say anything else, just walking over to the change rooms without so much as a glance to his father or younger brother.
Understandably, your aunt refused to give your phone number to Tim considering she had no idea of your relationship with him. If there was any relationship anymore. You clearly had every intention to not be in his life anymore if he had turned you down, explaining why you decided to confess on your last day.
He had asked your aunt to pass his number to you but there was no telling whether she actually would or if you would call him even if she did.
And in retrospect it would be fairly easy for him to find your number or address or which university you went to, but how was he meant to explain how he coincidentally managed to run into you before explaining the misunderstanding and confessing his feelings?
His mind was wracked with questions, and he continued to beat himself up for thinking that you had been flirting with Dick in the first place. If he hadn't been such an idiot, he could've avoided this whole mess and could've avoided upsetting you.
Now even if he managed to find you, there was always a possibility that his reaction managed to turn you off and change your mind.
"Woah Timmy isn't that the girl you like?"
Dick's voice cut across the unusual silence for that night, ringing in his ears so suddenly that for a second, he didn't even register what he had said.
However, when he did, it was almost comical the way his head lurched up like a meercat, spotting Nightwing’s figure a couple of buildings away and immediately grappling toward him, nearly throwing himself off the side of the terrace trying to spot you.
You stepped out of Gotham university, hands clutching a binder to your chest. Tim wasn't sure what had his heart beating faster—the sight of your frost-bitten nose, tinged red from the cold—or that you weren't alone.
You were laughing with a man who, much to Tim’s dismay, was undeniably good-looking and wearing a lab coat, which meant he was clearly smart and shared your interests and oh you both were going to get married, and he was going to be alone and coffeeless for the rest of his life.
"What are they saying?!" Tim leant over the edge of the roof like a right fool.
"This is beginning to get creepy, baby bird." Dick commented from behind him, but all Tim could tell him was to shut up because he couldn't hear just what had you giggling so animatedly.
"it's great that undergrads get a chance to be on a research team; I know it might not seem like much but it's gonna look great on your resume, (Y/N)."
You narrowed your eyes teasingly, "You're just saying that because you're relieved someone is gonna be doing the literature review and wash your empty beakers."
The junior assistant, a postgrad student was in charge of showing you around the lab and giving you a list of your responsibilities. Since it was short notice, you were going to have to learn the ropes quite quickly so as to look competent to the other professors.
He laughed, patting your shoulder and you could've sworn you heard a sound similar to a bird shrieking from above you, "You caught me there. But you'll get your name on your first research paper so that's there."
"I am but a modern-day Cinderella." You grinned, walking with him til he reached his car. He sat in the driver's seat, not yet closing the door when he called out for you just as you were beginning to walk away, "Are you sure you don't want a ride home?"
You smiled but shook your head, "No, thank you, maybe next time."
You watched him pull out of the parking space before driving away, wondering whether you should wait for the bus or just take a cab back home. The next bus wasn't for another 25 minutes, and you didn't want to wait around in the dark, however, a cab would be four times the amount you'd spend using the bus.
You suppose you could've called your father and asked him to pick you up from the university, but he had just gotten home from work, and you would hate to ask him to have to come and get you.
You sighed and muttered underneath your breath, "I should've just asked him to take me home." before beginning your trudge home. A part of you was scolding yourself for taking possibly the most dangerous route home but the other part reminded yourself that it was unlikely for anything to happen.
Besides, you had seen Nightwing patrol the area earlier that night and it was way too early for the bats to turn in for the night. With any luck, he was still roaming around here.
***
Looking back, taking a shortcut through an alleyway wasn't the smartest plan you had ever made. However, you were lucky enough because it seemed like the bats had been watching over you for the night; you didn't even have the chance to get mugged before Red Robin has scared off your potential attackers. You hadn't even noticed them creeping up behind you.
You simply stared at him, starstruck. It was the first time you had ever come into contact with the Gotham cryptids and you had least expected an encounter with the most elusive of them, Red Robin.
You had known he had black hair but through a screen it had really looked more like oily snakes that had further cemented your belief that they were demons.
But up close, his hair was soft and silky, he smelt of sweat and grime but with a slight tinge of cologne hidden underneath. You continued to stare at him, feeling like you could tattoo the sight of him onto your retinas.
"Um," You began, not sure how to even begin the conversation. Should you thank him for saving your life? Or apologize for being an inconvenience. Instead, you found yourself following his gaze to the lapel of your lab coat, only to find him staring at the Red Robin insignia pinned there. It was then you had been reminded of the same interaction with Tim Drake.
"Just so you know, you're way better looking than Tim Drake."
You were in slight awe of Red Robin and also still heartbroken over Tim Drake's scorn earlier that day, so you felt the need to settle the score with him even though it would clearly never make its way back to him.
Afterall what were the chances that the vigilante Red Robin knew the trust fund baby Tim Drake? They didn't exactly run in the same circles.
The masked man just stared at you in surprise, quite frozen after your declaration and honestly you couldn't blame him. He had just saved your life and instead of thanking him you began complimenting his good looks while at the same time insulting a completely random man, when really you had no business doing because you didn't really know what he looked like.
Though the more you stared at his face, finding your eyes drawing lines down the same jawline, cupid's bow, and nose bridge, you couldn't help but find similarities between the man you had just compared him to—
You physically shook the thought out of your head.
"Okay, then," You finished, finally turning around to walk away from him, having had enough of standing awkwardly in the middle of the alley, "Thank you agai—!"
"(Y/N), wait!" His gloved fingers clasped around your wrist, and you cut yourself off abruptly, staring up at him in surprise. It seemed his response had surprised him as well, considering the way he continued to stare at you. You couldn't really see his wide-eyed gaze due to the domino, but you could tell from the slight gap of his mouth and the raised brow.
Your lashes fluttered as you lowered your eyes to the hand still around your own, his voice echoing through your head. He had a modulator but this close to him it felt like you could hear the voice underneath it. His voice was crisper, cleaner and lighter underneath the automated depth, you could hear it just slightly through the syllables of your name.
You looked back at the whites of his mask, "How did you know my name?"
You weren't accusing him of anything, at least he didn't think so, not from your voice. You sounded genuinely curious and your eyes ping-ponged over his features, trying to find something. Then he noticed the ways they slightly narrowed before you whispered, "Tim?"
His jaw went slack, eyes going so comically wide now that you had just known you knocked the hammer right on the head. He took a step back, finally releasing your hand and you cupped your gaping mouth, in shock yourself.
"Wait seriously?! I was just guessing! Why on earth would you make it so obvious!" You chastised.
"I’m sorry, ok?! I didn't have any coffee today and so my brain isn't braining today!"
You crossed your arms over your chest, "And who's fault is that? You're the one who stormed out of the cafe after rejecting me—after I literally gave your drinks for free!"
Red Robin—Tim winced, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze fluttered guiltily away from yours, "That was...not my best moment."
"Not your best moment? You acted like I spat on your whole family and condemned you to death!" Okay perhaps you were being a tad bit dramatic, but it had been an extremely long day, and you kept being presented with new information which was a lot to take.
You were just a girl, for god's sake!
"Ok, in my defense, I thought you were confessing to my brother—not me! So, if anything, I was upset that you might like my family a little too much!" He retaliated and you gaped at him, incredulous.
"You are just—wow, unbelievable." You finally breathed. Truthfully, you didn't know what to even do now, something told you that you weren't going to be able to walk home completely unharmed. Since you knew his identity, the worst that could happen was that one of his bat friends was hanging over you to put you out of your misery. Best case scenario, you'd sign an NDA and be on your merry way home.
"I’m sorry, (Y/N). This is all my fault, I was being an idiot earlier and I got insecure cuz I thought you were asking out my brother which stung cuz I’ve been crushing on you for like months now." He finally admitted, holding his gaze low.
If you hadn’t been deafened by the sound of your heart pounding wildly in your chest at his confession, you would’ve given him a hard time about how nervous he seemed—just as you had been before he so brutally turned you down.
"You like me?" Your question, simple as it was, still managed to make Tim's heartrate escalate.
"Yes—I mean, of course—How could I not?"
You blushed, a gleeful response already on the tip of your tongue. Well, you would have, if you hadn’t suddenly been shrouded in a bat-shaped shadow that had you instinctively pressing yourself closer to Tim.
"Oh, I’m so dead." Tim muttered under his breath the second he had caught the figure of his father standing atop a building, having heard everything over the comms.
Your eyes widened and you stepped closer to him, a hand tightening around the utility belt strapped to his chest. You had remembered the rumours of what had happened to the second robin.
Tim's attention was snapped back to you the second he heard your sharp intake of breath, "N-Not literally, really (Y/N). I’m probably just gonna get grounded."
That got you to loosen your grip with a relieved sigh, relaxing and letting go.
"Grounded? As in Red Robin is grounded. Or Tim Drake?"
"Probably Tim Drake, Red Robin is still needed in the field. Maybe both." He admitted with a wince, and you have him a gentle pat on the chest that was meant to be a kind of 'there, there'. He gave you a small smile, gloved fingers holding the hand to his chest.
"I suppose our first date will have to wait, huh?"
Tim would be lying if a part of him hadn't kind of expected you to rethink everything. I mean, he had been so mean to you when turning you down after jumping to wild conclusions at no fault of your own. Then there was also his secret that he had been stupid enough to reveal to you.
You didn't deserve this; you deserved much better.
Still these thoughts were extremely fleeting, easily overthrown by his feeling of giddiness and outright joy, a blinding grin taking over his face.
"I guess so. I'll make it up to you, though—Dinner's on me."
You scoffed, "It better be, I’m standing in an alley 15 minutes past curfew with the identity of one of the illusive bats all because you thought I had a thing for your brother."
If his cheeks weren't already bitten from the cold, you would have watched as they went aflame, "I was young and stupid."
Ekko is someone who has lost a lot in his life. His father figure, his friends, his childhood. Loss was something Ekko had grown accustomed to living in the Undercity as death was as common as the sun rising each day: inevitable and unremarkable, yet leaving an impact on those who bare witness to it. At a young age, he had learned that he could not prevent death as it was a cold, unforgiving force. But when it came to the people he cared for, he sure as hell tried.
Since the death of Jinx, Ekko had lost himself and fell into a bought of depression as he felt his efforts to protect those he cared for were all for naught. After all, that was the reason he started the Firelights in the first place: to keep people safe. Yet, at every turn, it feels like he has failed them all.
Until you came around.
You were one of the people Ekko and the firelights took in amidst the final battle. You tried your best to help the others unlike most who were taking refuge or advantage of the Firelight's kindness. You would assist in the soup kitchen to help feed the others. You would comfort people who had lost their homes, loved ones, and more. You were there to help and help you did.
Ekko didn't notice you at first, but when he did, he was taken aback that someone actually cared enough to lift a weight of the Firelights' shoulders and not just take advantage of the free shelter and food. It was a fresh change of pace from the usual Zaunites who would exploit anything. When spotting you sitting up against the tree, he reluctantly decided to approach you as a heart of gold like yours was very uncommon in a place like the Undercity.
"Umm, hey, aren't you the one who helped in the soup kitchen last week?" Ekko queried, shifting on his feet with his hands in his pockets. To this, you gazed over at the head of the Firelights and nodded softly, confirming his suspicions.
"Yeah, that was me. What about it?" You responded, shifting your body to face Ekko as he sits next to you.
"I guess I just wanted to thank you. Not many people helped us and I appreciate you stepping up, y'know?" The boy savior spoke, cocking his head to the side ever-so-slightly. This elicited a soft smile to spread across your lips.
"It's really no problem. It's the least I could do." You rambled, putting your hands together in your lap.
That was how you sealed your fate without even knowing it. You two talked for hours whilst being dappled by the sun's golden light through the tree canopy. The way those spots of light decorated you: your skin, your hair, your face. Everything about you seemed to draw Ekko in, making him want more.
These meetings under the tree become common place for you two where you would idly chat away about your experiences, your lives, your troubles. It was something Ekko enjoyed very much as it gave him something to look forward too after a long day or a mission.
It gave him something to live for, something to protect.
You.
One day, while the sun began to set, you two chatted under the tree as always, until you sprung something onto Ekko that would forever change the trajectory of both of your lives.
"Hey, Ekko, I was thinking and I wanted to run something by you." You explaining, grabbing his attention from the kids playing in the grass.
"Hmm? What's up?" Ekko acknowledged, looking at them with a raised brow.
"I watch the firelights come and go all the time and you tell me about how amazing your adventures are and I was thinking... How does one become a Firelight?" You questioned, making the blood in Ekko's veins run cold. He didn't want you to be in the way of danger like how he does every day. He wants you to be safe right here in his little sliver of paradise. He knew he had to sway you against it.
"No, no, absolutely not." Ekko retorted curtly, his brow furrowed as he looked back out at the children playing.
"Why not?" You shot back, adjusting your posture to look more serious.
"The job is tedious and not just fun. It comes with risk, responsibility, and danger. Danger that I would rather not put you in." Ekko addressed, putting his elbows on his knees.
"Ekko, I am not a child." You responded, bending forward to try and get him to look at you.
"I am aware of that but it takes guts to do what we do." Ekko responded, trying to push you away from the idea of being a Firelight for his own sake.
"I am willing to do whatever it takes. Please, just give me a chance." You begged, gently putting your hand over his. This immediately garnered Ekko's attention as a zephyr blew by, rustling his locks and the foliage around the two. Reluctantly, Ekko removed his hand only to place it on top of yours. He knew you wouldn't let him just blow this off and he had to give you a real chance.
"...Are you positive you want this?" Ekko muttered, rubbing his thumb over the dorsum of your hand.
"Positive. I want to help people, Ekko. I want to help you." You proclaimed with passion evident in your tone.
"Alright, but only if you promise me you won't get hurt. I couldn't imagine what I'd do if something bad happened to you." Ekko relented, looking back at you with worried eyes.
"I'll try my best, okay? I promise." You spoke softly, your lips spreading into a soft smile.
And that was how you learned not to make promises you couldn't keep.
When you began your training, Ekko was hard on you to hope you would drop wanting to be a Firelight before getting you in any actual danger. However, you were stubborn and prevailed even his expectations of you. He was genuinely impressed and mistakenly let his guard down, thinking you'd become a great aspect to the Firelights and that you would get to spend more time with him on missions.
However, that all changed.
It was your first mission and Ekko finally gave you your mask and hoverboard, ready to let you go with him on your first mission. It was a great accomplishment to both of you until you two and the other Firelights actually got to the shimmer shipment. It was an ambush with a fake shipment to lure in the Firelights by shimmer makers down in the Lanes. Guns were blasting, punches were thrown, and blood was spilled.
In the midst of the carnage, you had noticed a comrade down with a sprained ankle and a henchman had a gun pointed at him. You didn't think, you just acted. Flying over on your board, you attempt to knock the gun out of the henchman's hand only to get a bullet to the shoulder. You cried out in pain and collapsed off the board to the grimy pavement, rolling into a brick wall with an 'umphf'.
When Ekko saw this going down, he froze. He swore to protect them and now he was going to lose someone else. No. No, he would not let this happen. Never again would he let you get hurt. He refused to even think about the possibility of having to paint your face on that mural. Soaring over, Ekko bashed in the head of the man who shot you, his rage overwhelming. A soft grunt caught his attention amidst his thoughts, only for him to see you trying to get up.
"Y/N!" Ekko cried out as he got off his board, running over to you. Seeing you laying their with your hand over your shoulder made him furious.
"Ekko..." You rasped in a groan that elicited from their throat. Ekko pried their hand from the wound, examining it. From what Ekko could see under the mess of sanguine, he knew it was bad and had to get them back to the medics.
"I'm taking you back to base." He proclaimed as he scooped you up into his arms. Too pain ridden to resist, you just let him. As Ekko gets on his board, he signals for the others to retreat before soaring back to base. For the whole ride home, Ekko is a mess, repeatedly asking you if you are okay with tears brimming his eyes. He refuses to lose you, he just can't lose you. You are all that's in his psyche. Images of you laughing, smiling and training with him flood his mind as his hands felt numb and prickly from the panic in his nerves. The feeling of your skin against his is the only thing keeping him from collapsing into sobs. He wants to be strong for you. He needs to be strong.
Once back at the Firelight base, he rushes you to the medic tent to get your bullet wound attended to. The whole time, he is praying to whatever god that is out there that you make it. He couldn't fathom losing you. You would not be joining the others on that mural.
After you were finally stabilized, Ekko felt a wave of relief course through his body. You were going to be okay. However, this was quickly followed by anger. Why did you jump in front of that goon to save someone else? Do you have any idea how badly that would hurt him to lose you? Did you really want to be a martyr and leave him behind? Ekko felt the anger boiling under his skin as he watched you get treated by a medic. Once the medic left the room, Ekko rose from his chair, looking down at you with a scowl.
"You promised me you wouldn't get hurt!" Ekko growled, crossing his arms.
"I... I couldn't help it—"
"Bullshit, you dove in front of an enemy's bullet." Ekko interjected, recounting the event that landed you in this situation.
"To save another firelight, Ek—"
"I don't give a fuck!" Ekko snapped as he interjected again, his hands trembling with anger. Noticing your fear from his sudden outburst, he took a deep breath and tried to simmer down as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, what you did could have killed you and I wasn't able to protect you!" He added, his voice shaking with anger.
"Did you want me to just let him die?" You asked, sitting up in the cot.
"Yes!" He proclaimed, shocking you with his statement. Realizing his crossed the line again, he sighed and sat back in the chair with a grunt, putting his head in his hands. "I'm sorry but I would have rather you let that Firelight die than let yourself get hurt. Now look at you, you have a bullet wound in your shoulder because you decided to be reckless." He continued as he rubbed his temples, trying to calm himself down.
"Ekko—"
"Y'know what? No, I can't let you risk getting hurt again. Do you have any idea how important you are to me?" Ekko spoke, rising from his seat once more as he snagged your mask off your face.
"What are you doing?" You retorted, your worried eyes meeting his.
"Undoing my mistake." He stated, putting the mask in his bag with a grunt.
"Ekko, you cannot be serious." You murmured, adjusted your sitting.
"Dead serious, I'm revoking you of your Firelight position." Ekko retorted, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"For saving a comrade's life?" You questioned, raising a brow in confusion.
"For almost getting yourself killed. Do you have any idea how close that bullet was to hitting your head? Too close." He spoke, gesturing to the bullet wound left in your shoulder. To this, you began to try and get out of bed only for Ekko to place a firm hand on your sternum, pushing you back to the bed firmly but not roughly. "No, stay in that bed, don't you dare try and get up, you're only gonna hurt yourself more." He supplemented, his anger subsiding into concern.
"I can't believe you're doing this." You uttered with a defeated tone to your voice, looking up at him.
"I am doing this to keep you safe." Ekko elaborated before removing his hand from your sternum, standing up straight.
"You told me risk is part of the job and that it takes guts." You remarked, your eyes narrowing at the Firelight leader.
"Well, I was stupid to let you risk your life. I don't need your blood on your hands. I've lost enough people in my life, I'm not going to lose you too." Ekko shot back, adjusting the bag strap on his shoulder. You looked up at him with a crestfallen expression, much to Ekko's dismay. "Look, I can't let you hurt yourself or let you get killed. You're too risky to be a Firelight. I'm sorry, but it's for your own good. I'll be back to check on you at sunrise, okay?" He added as he went to leave the room. He gave you one look back to see your saddened face before reluctantly departing, knowing what he was doing was best for them.
However, the night was restless for Ekko. He tossed and turned in his bed as the event of you being shot plays in a loop in his mind. Your cry in pain rings in his ears like nails on a chalkboard. He could not stop thinking about him holding you in his arms as he flew home on his board. The look of pain in your eyes haunted him as he laid there restless. He knew he could never let you face battle again, let alone anything that could hurt you. You were too precious to him, too precious to lose. You were reckless with your life and his heart. He knew you were an unintentional danger to yourself and he had to make sure that pain became a stranger to you. Pain was not worthy of haunting your body. It didn't deserve you.
Ekko was going to make sure you never ached again. Not if he could help it.
The sun rose through the blinds on Ekko's window, momentarily blinding him as he opened his bleary eyes. His body ached for more sleep, yet he was restless as he woke, wanting to see you.
So he did.
For the next three days, he visited you even though you were upset with him for revoking your stance in the Firelights. He did what was best for you. He knows what is best for you. You just have to trust him. Slowly, you begin to calm down over the incident and listened to him. After the next few days, you were released from the medical bay and able to go back to your day to day life. Ekko was there when you got the okay to go back home. However, Ekko had plans for you once you got discharged and it was just for the best. As you got ready to leave, Ekko placed a gentle hand on your non-wounded shoulder.
"Hey, I want to apologize for my outburst a few days ago." He spoke solemnly, seemingly ashamed of his actions and harsh words. To this, you couldn't help but smile softly.
"It's okay, Ekko. I know you were just angry." You murmured, looking back at him with soft eyes.
"Say, wanna just get something to eat back at my place? I'm sure you are sick of hospital food." Ekko offered, his thumb gently rubbing your shoulder. At the thought of not having to eat hospital food, you lit up.
"Sure, why not?" You replied, oblivious to Ekko's intentions. Ekko smiled softly at this, patting their shoulder before letting go.
"Perfect, c'mon, I'll make you your favorite." He beckoned, gesturing for them to follow him.
As you and Ekko walked to his humble abode, Ekko could not stop thinking about how he would never let them feel pain again. As he watched you talk and ramble on about something, all he could think of is how attractive you were. How the golden sun gently kissed your skin, how the soft wind played with your hair, and how your eyes looked like portals into your heart of gold. He was smitten and he swore to himself he would never let the precious person before him get hurt ever again.
Once you two made it to his humble abode, Ekko opened the door for you and watched you walk in, knowing he would never let you leave. As he walked in after you, he shut the door with a sigh, secretly locking the deadbolt when you had your back turned.
"Alright, I'm gonna get us started. First, do you want a drink?" He queried, walking past them into the kitchen. Soon after, you followed him.
"Yeah, just a water would be nice." You spoke, sitting up on a stool by his kitchen island. Ekko gave an approving hum in reply as he grabbed you both a glass and began to fill it up. Ekko looked back at you as the glasses filled with water. "Hey, I repainted the kitchen the other day, do you like the new color?" He asked, gesturing around to the room. When you looked at the walls, Ekko knew the distraction worked and slipped a little something into your water.
"Hmm, yeah, it's a nice seafoam green." You commented on the shade, taking it in. Ekko nodded, handing you your glass with a slight shake to his hand.
"Thanks, now drink up, I'm sure you're thirsty since they limited your water intake back at the hospital." The head of the Firelights replied, nodding to you. To this, you picked up the glass of water and began to drink it, not thinking twice. To this, Ekko couldn't help but sigh softly and mentally remind himself that this was for your own good. He knew the agent would act quickly so he strolled over to be beside you as you put the glass down on the counter.
"Damn, you were thirsty." He teased as he sat in the stool right next to you.
As if on cue, you felt warm and fuzzy as your eye lids got heavy. Ekko immediately noticed and wrapped their arm around your back, pulling you closer to him.
"Hey, are you alright?" He questioned, feigning obliviousness as he watched you struggle to stay awake.
That's when you realized something was in the water. It had to be. You went to stand only for your legs to give out, causing you to collapse to the kitchen floor with a thud. Ekko swore at himself for letting go and rushed to be beside you and pick you up, making sure you didn't get hurt.
"Woah, woah, woah, slow down there, Y/N." He spoke softly, holding you in bridal style as you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Your world got blurry and things suddenly felt distant. Ekko knew exactly was happening but kept telling himself it was for your own good, ignoring the guilt pooling in his stomach.
Then it all went black.
Warmth. Warmth was what you could describe you felt when you started regaining your senses. When you opened your eyes, you realized the warmth was Ekko's body pressed against yours. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist and his head was on your shoulder.
"Ekko?" You croaked out, alerting him that you were awake. He sighed softly and pulled away, looking down at you with solemn eyes.
"It was for your own good, I'm sorry." Ekko murmured softly, ashamed and regretful but not enough to let you go.
"The water. It was drugged?" You asked, trying to sit up only for your arms to be too weak to do so.
"Yes, I'm sorry but you have to understand tha—"
"You drugged me?" You interjected, your brows furrowed.
"Well, yes, but just know it was for your own good." Ekko relented, making strong eye contact. To this, you were alarmed by his motive.
"My own good? Drugging me? Do you have any idea how crazy you sound right now?" You retorted, trying to get up once more only for Ekko to firmly yet gently push you back to the bed.
"Y/N, I can't let you get hurt again so I did what I had to do. I have lost enough people, and I am not going to lose you too. I love you, Y/N." He confessed, his eyes sparkling with a look you had never seen before.
"This isn't love, this is control." You spat with your brows knitted together in a frown. To this, Ekko looked displeased. He grabbed your jaw and made you look at him.
"I have loved you since the day we met under that tree. I have loved you with more passion than I have every loved anyone or anything before. It is love and I can prove it to you." To this, Ekko placed a gentle yet passionate kiss on your lips, holding you in place by your jaw. His lips were soft and warm but it was offset by the situation at hand.
As Ekko pulled away, he was panting softly with eyes full of obsession.
"I will protect you from all pain. I refuse to ever see you hurt ever again in my entire life. I will protect you and I will not fuck it up this time."
“What are you going to do? Kick the staff in the heads until they give me letters of recommendation?” Laughter bubbled up out of you, the sound carried by your elation. Here you were, skipping class and holding hands with your best friend.
Your friendship with Hanma has never been the smoothest, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
features: childhood friends to lovers, sexist language, mentioned intoxication and vomiting, and infidelity
A/N: This will probably have a second part at some point, but I have too many WIPs to commit to that right now.
*dividers by @thecutestgrotto
*member of @pixelcafe-network
It started when you were kids. He sat next to you in class. His assigned seat for the third grade. Tall, even at that age. Just one of the many things that set him apart. Even as a child his attendance was irregular and he would show up with cuts and bruises. You once asked him about it, one of the times he bothered to show up. Unlike the other kids, you weren't scared of him. If anything he was a source of curiosity. What kind of kid lived a life so strange?
“Why do you care?” He crumpled up some paper and flicked it from his desk to yours. Unconcerned that it was the middle of class, he spoke at a regular volume.
“I don't know. Just do.” You whispered in response, glancing at the front of the room where a teacher was helping one of your classmates.
It was the first time you had spoken to him. Unless he was in class, he vanished to go wherever he got his wounds from and it was unlikely you would find him again. If you were with friends you couldn't get close to him either. At best when other kids spoke to him he would stare them down without a word until they backed away. The worst would be when he would snarl and lash out like a feral cat. Your friends were less forgiving of his strangeness and intimidating aura than you were. So even though class was ongoing, you decided it was time to seize the chance.
“Being strong is the only way to get ahead.”
“Get ahead of what?”
Your teacher shushed you, putting an end to your conversation. Hanma glared at her but kept his mouth shut. When she turned away you whispered your name to him. No acknowledgement was given. But that the conversation took place at all was victory enough for you.
&&&
From that day onward Hanma would always acknowledge you when he saw you. Most often just with a nod. He never spoke to you first and never sought you out. But sometimes you could get him to stay for lunch with you, if you ditched your friends. It was your bento that was always shared; Hanma never brought any food that you saw. You didn't mind being a little less full if it meant getting time with your new friend.
Friendship with Hanma was a complicated thing. You would consider him your friend, even if the reverse wasn't necessarily true.
“Can I call you Shuji?”
“Only my friends call me that.”
“Then what am I?”
“An annoyance.”
“This annoyance doesn't have to share food, you jerk.” Your watery eyes burn with anger, but you refuse to show any possible weakness in front of Hanma. He tensed up but didn't rise from where he was sitting next to you.
The rest of the shared meal passed without words exchanged. At the end you're ready for him to stomp off as usual, maybe for the last time given how little he thinks of you. But for the first time he thanked you. Little more than a mumble under his breath without a trace of eye contact. In response you beamed at him, anger forgotten.
The next day you hand him an RSVP to your birthday party. The ‘no’ is almost smothered in aggressive circles. At the top where ‘Hanma’ was written he crossed it out and wrote ‘Shuji’ instead. Another victory in the uphill battle that was companionship with Hanma Shuji. For the rest of elementary you called him by his first name.
&&&
Your parents insisted you go to an all-girls school for junior high, so you saw Shuji even less. The years you spent building a fragile bridge between you two washed away by your parents. You forced him to take your phone number and email, and all but begged him not to forget about you. Months passed without a word. It's the kind of thing that would make your friends say “I told you so”. You felt hollowed out, concave, even when the abandonment wasn't on your mind.
The first time he showed up caught you completely off guard. It had taken time but you had begun to accept that he decided you weren't worth the effort. But when you saw Shuji lurking around across the street, even taller than before, you dropped your backpack and ran right up to him. You didn't hesitate to jump up and wrap your arms around his neck. The two of you had never touched before, but there wasn't a doubt in your mind he would catch you.
“What are you doing? Did you turn into a leech since I last saw you?”
“Mhm!” You relished in his warmth, burying your face in his neck and taking in an unknown but comforting scent. “A real bloodsucker.”
He bit your neck, making you scream. Shuji called you an idiot with barely a trickle of his typical venom. Pushing you off of him he cackled as you complained about the bruise that was sure to form. It was the language of his friendship, tender animosity, one you were fluent in.
From across the street you heard your name being called, tone ambivalent. The whole scene was worth the inevitable teasing your friends had in store for you if it meant being reunited with Shuji. You wouldn't let a little gossip deter you from a friendship you cultivated so carefully.
Together you retraced your steps to retrieve your bag and introduce him to your new friends. As you walked up you pulled on his shoulder until his ear was close enough to hear you whisper.
“If you pretend to be nice to them I'll buy you some onigiri at the conbini.”
In response he grinned with all his teeth. “It’s going to cost you your entire allowance.”
It was worth it for the way he briefly acted like a normal human. Shuji even pretended to care when Masuyo flirted with him, placing a too-familiar hand on his forearm. 2000 yen and an armful of snacks later (which he insisted you carry because he ‘behaved so well’) you both made fun of her clumsy attempt, even if it was a little cruel.
“I shouldn't laugh. She's my friend!” But you couldn't help yourself.
“Come on. That was so awkward. ‘Oh Hanma-kun! You should come see me too!’” He simpered in the most uncharitable way possible. You failed to stop yet another giggle; you accepted years ago that your mean-streak was always a little louder in his presence.
“Gross.” You rolled your eyes, which he took great offence to. Shuji started listing the reasons why your friend was right to think he was boyfriend material, but you just tuned him out and enjoyed the feeling of the sinking sun on your face.
It was a simple, yet perfect hangout. You felt light as a bubble, the two of you joking around and snacking on the swings. Even falling off the playground equipment couldn’t sour your mood. It's not as though you felt embarrassed, it was only Shuji there with you. Lanky, emotionally constipated Shuji.
&&&
At thirteen rumours began to spread about Shuji and his inclination to violence. At fourteen the girls who didn’t already know him as your eccentric friend kept their distance from you. By that point in your friendship he was picking you up from school at least once or twice a week, gleefully sneering at the girls who shuddered at his split lip or swollen knuckles. You finished middle school in a strange limbo of known and unknowable, thanks to your bond with Shuji. Once the false rumour of being ‘his girl’ began, there was no hope for you being known by your own character. It grated on you, living as a label, but you wouldn't give up your friendship for anything. Who else could laugh in the darkest moments or find (mis)adventure on the dreariest of days?
When you finally reached high school he had already earned the title of the ‘Reaper of Shinjuku’. Perhaps because his fighting prowess became so well known, Shuji became protective over you in a way that would have been annoying had it been anyone else. While he didn't outright say he had enemies, he did insist to anyone who could hear that he could protect you from any threat.
Even amidst the escalating danger he threw himself into, there was a bright spot too. The two of you were schoolmates once more. Shuji's attendance hadn't improved, but he still walked you home most days. When he was around during the school day, the two of you would find a cozy spot to eat and you would attempt to catch him up while he regaled you with his latest story of mayhem. The likelihood of him crossing the stage with you on graduation day was unlikely, but until he told you to fuck off you would keep compiling notes for him.
It was around the end of your first year that you really began to feel the weight of your relationship. Even in his absence his presence clung to you. It was becoming heavy as stone. Particularly when you tried to catch anyone's eye in a decidedly non-platonic way.
“I don't understand what the big deal is. I'm not asking you to marry me. I was just hoping you would want to go see a movie with me.” While your friends were going on dates, you couldn't get anyone to consider you a romantic prospect. “If you’re worried about Hanma, he's not going to beat you up just for going out with me.”
“I really like talking to you in class. But the Reaper isn't someone you cross. He's made it clear to leave you alone.” Your lab partner held his palms up and took a step back from you.
“He just doesn't want anyone hurting me.” I am so sick of people acting like they need his permission just to be around me. “It's not like he expects me to be single and virginal forever.”
Your crush's eyes widen. Maybe you shouldn't have said that last bit. “I’m sorry. I think maybe you should ask him about that.”
“Yeah maybe you should ask me.” Shuji appears out of nowhere to lean down and use your head as an armrest. With his free arm he pointed his fingers like a gun at your lab partner. He mimed shooting him, laughing as the poor kid began to sweat. “Maybe you should leave.”
“What the fuck Shuji?” You shove him away with none of your usual playfulness. Anyone who was in the vicinity finds anywhere else to be. “Why do you have to make it so hard for me to talk to people? Nobody is going to pop out and stab me in front of my locker!”
“Why are you wasting time with losers like that?” He's got a manic grin on his face, the particularly unkind one he gets when he's in a bad mood.
It's not exactly fair to feel so frustrated with him. Shuji's just trying to protect you in his own dysfunctional way. He doesn't know that he's digging into something that could have been a wound, if you had let it. At some point between age thirteen and fourteen you realized the tall idiot you knew wasn't bad to look at. Then he went on a handful of dates with one of your friends before deciding she was ‘boring’, and you remembered why it was a bad idea to consider him to be anything more than your best friend.
“Hey I like him! He plays guitar and he’s got nice arms!” It sounded so stupid once you tried to justify it outloud.
“I have nice arms!” To emphasize his point he grabbed one of your hands and held it to his bicep.
“You have a girlfriend. One who probably hasn't had to change your pants for you after you got too drunk and threw up all over yourself.” You yanked your hand away. When you've seen someone crying while covered in their own vomit, it's easier to suppress the stirrings of desire.
“That was one time!”
“Yes, only because I said we're never going to Shin-Okubo to buy soju again!” You're torn between laughing at the memory and tearing your hair out. As if compelled to, you open your mouth and kept going. “Not to mention she didn’t have to listen to your voice crack when you hit puberty! Or drag you to the doctor's because you thought you were too tough to get a broken arm!”
“And that's why I don't love her!” Shuji bends down to scream it in your face before kicking over a garbage can.
“What's that supposed to mean?” A fist clenched around your trembling heart.
“It means you're not supposed to say ‘ew’ when I take off my shirt!” Shuji brows pinched upward in the middle, as though you were the one hitting his chest rather than him inflicting the pain himself. Nonetheless each thump made guilt reverberate through you.
You force yourself to give him a half-smile. The insincerity weighs down your face, but it's better than acknowledging you might be having your first real fight. “I’m trying not to make it weird! Why do you always feel compelled to take it off lately? Are you allergic to clothes now?”
“You stupid bitch I am trying to fuck you!”
Someone clears their throat. “I am begging you to take this anywhere other than the school grounds.”
Neither of you noticed the principal right next to you until he spoke up. He was wary as he eyed Shuji but held his ground.
As soon as the shock stopped paralyzing your body, you bowed to hide your burning cheeks. “I'm so sorry–”
“Ugh shut up. Don't waste your breath.” Shuji grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the building.
“You said more than I did.” Stumbling you wouldn't have been able to keep up with his long strides if he hadn't yanked you along with him.
“Yeah but I know you were going to keep apologizing and just go on and on.” He didn't so much as look over his shoulder.
“He's our principal! Of course I'm going to apologize!” You wriggled your wrist around until you managed to interlock your fingers with Shuji's. Even though the two of you had never held hands before he didn't change his pace in the slightest.
“You spend too much time worrying about people who don't matter.”
“I want to stay on the school's good side. The university I'm looking at is pretty competitive.”
“Don’t worry about that. I'll take care of it.” You're both past the school grounds, but neither of you relinquished your grip.
“What are you going to do? Kick the staff in the heads until they give me letters of recommendation?” Laughter bubbled up out of you, the sound carried by your elation. Here you were, skipping class and holding hands with your best friend.
“Sure. Why not?” He barked out a laugh too. “I'll take care of you. Whether you get into the best school and make tons of money, or you decide you don't want to do anything at all.”
“Hanma Shuji.” You stopped in place and pulled on his hand when he tried to keep going. He allowed himself to be dragged backward. You could never force him into anything. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
You waved your free hand around as you spoke. “Because you chase after every attractive person you see? Because you giggle when you beat the shit out of people? Because you're the least serious person to ever exist?”
“Ha. Yeah.” He stared off into space for a moment with a soft smile, as though he was contemplating something. “But you're the exception. You and Kisaki. I can be serious about the right things.”
“Who? Did you already dump Sayuri?” You always paid attention to his stories, so this was the first time he was mentioning someone he valued as much as you.
“Nah, I've been putting it off. I'll tell you about him later.”
“So, now what?” In the past it was always you who chased after Shuji, sometimes for little more than crumbs. Now he would have to be the one to put your friendship at risk if he really wanted something more.
“Now I'm going to take you somewhere and show that virgin cunt what she's been missing out.”
You laughed at how bold he was. “You're skipping a lot of steps.”
“I'm too horny to go get dinner or see a movie.” He shrugged, eyeing up your figure.
You rolled your eyes. “You're the emperor of romance, huh? How about we start somewhere simple.”
You stood on the balls of your feet and pulled his face down to meet yours. It was your first kiss, so you meant for it to be quick Shuji, refusing to leave it at that, moaned against you while wrapping an arm around your back. He lifted you off the ground and pressed your chest into his own.
The murmuring of people passing on the street was enough to remind you that you shouldn't be behaving like this where anyone could see. The muscles of your stomach clenched, in anxiety and anticipation. If the harm was already done, you might as well indulge a little longer.
(Though you'll never know it, in every timeline his lips will always belong to you.)
You brought your hand up to knock at the large door of the Washington Lodge, you pulled your parka a little closer, waiting for any sign of life to let you into the warmth of the multimillion dollar home. It had been a year since Beth and Hannah’s mysterious disappearance, a tragedy in your eyes. You weren’t a part of the prank, you were passed out drunk with Chris and Josh when it all went down. You only heard about the prank afterwards when police were called and you finally sobered up. Josh was obviously shaken up about the whole thing, to say the least. You’d barely heard from him throughout the year and he distanced himself from the friend group, which you couldn’t blame him for. You were surprised to hear from him, even more surprised to learn he wanted all of you to come back to Washington Lodge in memory of the sisters.
Although it felt… weird, you felt morally obliged to come back and support Josh, which totally had nothing to do with your feelings for him. Not at all… okay, maybe a little. But, he probably didn’t feel the same. Which was fine, you could be the good friend to him that he needed right now. You hoped that after his time away he’d come back to the friend group, come to the parties and back into your life. Maybe it was a little selfish, but you wanted to see him for the sake of your feelings for him which really hadn’t dwindled in his absence. You worried for him, last you heard he was in therapy and taking medications for his depression and other mental health issues. As childish as it sounded, you wished you were able to take away his pain, or at least ease it. It hurt to see someone you cared about in pain.
Your mind wanders back to the night of the incident, things would’ve been different if Josh, you and Chris had been awake and aware of the pranks plans. Josh for sure wouldn’t have stood for it, you know you would’ve tried to stop it. After all, Hannah was one of your closest friends. You yourself found it hard to return to the friend group after the whole thing, harboring blame for everyone involved. Well, everyone except Sam who was your other closest friend. You know she tried to stop it afterwards when you had a chance to talk to her, she was just too late.
Your thinking is cut short by the sound of the door unlocking and creaking open. Your gaze follows the sound and lands on Josh as he stands in the doorway, a toothy grin plastered on his face. He says your name in a friendly and welcoming manner before pulling you into a bear hug.
“Oof!” you collide with his chest before wrapping your arms around him in return.
“Good to see you too, Josh.” Your hands slide back from his flannel as he lets you go and a gust of frigid wind bites at your nose and cheeks.
“Can I come in?” You ask, pointing to the fireplace. There was nobody else in the room but yet you had a feeling you were the last one to show up, as per usual.
“Oh yeah, sure sure. Come on in.” He steps aside, and allows you to come into the lodge before closing the door behind you, shutting out the cold. You drag in your luggage and set it in the foyer and then you make your way over to the fireplace, rubbing your hands together and holding them to the flame. Your fingers were freezing as you opted to wear fingerless gloves, perhaps an oversight on your end but you were inside now, so all was well.
“Can I, uh, take your coat?” He asks, gesturing to the coat rack where his vest was also hanging, his beanie dangling from the pocket.
“Sure,” You slip your arms from your parka before handing it over to Josh who takes it and hangs it from the coat rack. You’re now left in your black cardigan and jeans. “Thank you.”
“No problemo.” He smiles at you and makes finger guns, you shoot him back and he chuckles.
“Where’s everyone else?” You ask, looking around.
“Jess and Mike are on their way to the guest cabin, Emily and Matt are retrieving her bag from the cable car station, Sam is taking a bath and Chris just went to lay down.” He lists off, counting on his fingers.
“Left you all alone, did they?” You tease, watching as he makes his way over to you to warm his own hands.
“I’m wounded by their absence.” He pretends to stab his heart and acts wounded, you laugh at his theatrics.
“So dramatic.” You say, rolling your eyes in a silly manner. He scoffs, looking over at you.
“You’ve always been the dramatic one.” He claims, elbowing your side and causing you to squeal and fold in on yourself.
“Stooop!” You dodge away, running to get behind the couch and away from the prying elbow. “Behave.” You warn, smile betraying you.
“When have I ever not behaved?” He chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. Now it was your turn to scoff.
“Oh, you want the list or the summary?” You ask, climbing over the back of the couch to bet comfy on the cushions. He watches you with something unknown in his eye, a foreign twinkle.
“What?” You ask, kicking off your boots before bringing your knees to your chest.
“Care for a drink, madam?” He disappears to the liquor cabinet before reemerging with a handle of vodka. The last time you had gotten drunk in this lodge, things didn't end well. But, a few sips couldn’t hurt, maybe it’d help you get warm. You also hoped Josh hadn’t turned to alcohol in his time of grief, but if some company was what he needed, you were happy to oblige.
“Oooo, are we Russian now?” You gesture to the vodka as he comes to sit down next to you, he turns the bottle in his hand. It was nice vodka, probably very expensive but you understood that the Washington family could definitely afford for you and Josh to take a few sips from off the top.
“Da.” He says in his best Russian accent before unscrewing the lid and offering you first drink. You take the bottle by the neck and take a sip off the top and when you look back to Josh to offer up the bottle, he’s looking at you in disbelief.
“What?” You ask, blushing under the weight of his gaze.
“That’s all you’re gonna drink? Where’s the black-out, shit-faced, party girl I know?” He smiles his signature grin at you before taking the bottle and taking a hearty drink. He grimaces against the alcohol taste before setting the bottle on the nearby table.
“She’s retired. Focusing on her studies.” You say, a teasing tone lacing your voice. You and Josh were both in college at the time of the disappearances but Josh understandably dropped out of his studies. You, on the other hand, were still up at the local college pursuing your degree.
“Hey,” You start, your teasing tone turning into one of concern, “Should you be drinking with the meds you’re taking?” You tried your best to sound sincere, because you were. You didn’t want him hurting himself or anything just to have a drink with you.
“I’m fine.” He says, face immediately dropping. You move to put a hand over his and he looks at the contact then back at your face.
“I didn’t say you weren’t.” You practically whisper, thumb caressing over his knuckles.
“I uh…” He starts, gaze not leaving yours, “I stopped taking them.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You ask, searching his features for the answer before he can say it. You don’t find anything.
“Good… I think.” He says after a moment, his eyes shift from yours and to the side, like he was thinking of something. You retreat your hand and lean back, your legs draping over his lap. He immediately shifts and welcomes your incursion, hands beginning to fiddle with the hem of your pants. This was nice, your relationship was basically the same as it had been a year ago, even though you’d barely seen each other since.
“I’m just glad you’re doing better.” You express honestly. All you wanted was for Josh to be okay, even though you knew the pain of losing his sisters would never go away. Hearing that he was off his meds just left you confused on how to feel. Was he off them because he was doing better? Or were they not working, or worse yet, was he giving up on them?
“Thanks for coming back, I know it probably wasn’t easy.” He says, a rare sincerity showing itself. Usually Josh was a pretty goofy guy, witty and sarcastic and all around a good sense of humor. Seeing him now, timid and honest, was something you’d seen before, but not often.
“Of course. Anything for you.” You smile as he rests his arms on your shins and studies your face.
“Careful, you’re giving me a lot of power there.” He grins, returning to his goofy self.
“Well, maybe not anything.” You trail off, a smile plastered across your face.
“Well then, I command thee to drinketh upon thine vodka.” He reaches to grab the bottle from the table and hands it to you while committing to his face accent.
“Well, if you command it, I suppose I have no choice.” You take the bottle and take a meaningful gulp of the clear liquid, clearly making a face against the taste as Josh laughs at you.
“Wow, you really have lost your touch.” He says, chuckling.
“Oh whatever, sorry I’m not used to your ridiculously expensive vodka.” You dismiss, passing back the bottle and watching him take his turn.
The two of you continue like that for a while, just passing the bottle between you both and getting closer and closer, and louder and louder. Soon enough you’ve got him trapped in a hearty laugh, you’re gripping your sides from cackling and tears are springing from the corners of your eyes. You bring a finger to dab at your eyes, not trying to mess up your mascara. But then, you fall into silence and your gaze slowly makes its way over to Josh, who is already looking at you, lips parted as his tongue dashes out to wet them.
“What?” You ask, suddenly feeling self conscious.
“Are you still willing to do anything for me?” He asks, rather seriously.
“Within reason.” You try to make light of the serious tone overcoming the space around you and it seems to work, Josh’s lips twitch into a smile momentarily before he’s pulling on your legs, chugging you towards him.
“Well then, come here.”
“Josh!-” You squeal as you slide across the couch. Your heart was racing, what did he want? What was he going to do? You’ve had feelings for him for so long, could it be possible he felt the same way?
In a moment your knees are bent over his lap, your body much closer to his as he turns to look at you.
“Would it be within reason to ask to kiss you?”
Your stomach does a backflip and your mouth goes dry. Was he serious? You’d had a crush on this man for years, ever since Hannah had brought you into the friend group in high school. She was younger than you, but you both found yourself in the same chemistry class where you became fast friends. Josh was always the forbidden fruit, someone who you wanted but could never have. Not because you thought Hannah would disapprove, no, in fact she actually knew about your crush, but it was forbidden because you never thought he’d want you too. You always thought he wanted Sam, which you couldn’t blame him for. She was beautiful. But here you were, legs draped across his lap, bodies merely inches apart and he was asking to kiss you.
“Are you being serious?” You ask, “Josh, I’ve wanted to kiss you since senior year.”
“I guess we have some time to make up for then.” He says, hand skating up your arm and tangling in your hair as he brings your face to his and connects your lips. You melt into the touch as he tilts his head to get even closer, his free hand coming to rest on the bent knee positioned over his lap.
Your eyes flutter shut as his lips meld to yours. The kiss starts out slow, just a sweet connection of your lips gradually moving against each other. But soon enough you feel his tongue at the seam of your mouth, so you open and take him greedily, your hands coming to rest on his neck and on the side of his face. Your thumb swipes across his cheek as his hand pulls on your knee, pulling on it gently.
“Come here.” He grunts against you as he guides you into his lap, straddling him. Your tongue meets his as he enters your mouth again and you moan into the contact, hands moving from his face to run through his hair, his own hands go to your ass, holding you against him as your lips engage in a dance for dominance.
He parts from you to kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw before arriving at your neck where he tenderly nips at the sensitive flesh. You roll your head back and allow him access and when he bites down only to lick over it and play nice, you let out a sweet moan. He nuzzles into your shoulder and your arms go around his shoulders, embracing him. You could feel yourself getting wet from the kissing alone.
“Keep making noises like that and I won’t be able to contain myself.” He grunts into your hair and you push him back just a little, just enough to have him look at your face.
“I don’t want you to contain yourself.” You say honestly, you were putting it all out in the open. How many times had you raked your own hands down your body imagining they were his? You were ready for this, hell, you yearned for it. Yearned for him.
“Yeah?” He asks, searching your eyes.
“Yeah.” You confirm, a low tremor in your voice from the sheer excitement and want.
“Get up and follow me.” He says, you obey, sliding off his lap and allowing him to get up. He turns back to you, holding out a hand. You take it, allowing him to lead you up the stairs, around the corner and into his old room. You pause for a second as he closes the door behind you and you take the time to look around the room. It was identical to the last time you’d seen it, when you would sit on the floor with him and Chris and play videogames on the flatscreen across the room. The only thing that was different was the dust covering the shelves and end tables, it was clear the Washingtons hadn’t been here all year. You didn’t blame them.
“Looks the same.” You observe as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, observing the dark room with you.
“Haven’t really touched it since…” He lingers but doesn’t finish.
“But the, uh, bed is clean. Washed all the bedding before everyone got here.” He purrs in your ear, hands going from around your middle and to your hips. You turn in his grasp, his hands just slide along your body as you do until they’re planted on your hips again.
“Better get to it then.” You say lowly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. That appears to be all the invitation he needs, dipping his head to connect your lips once more. He gently pushes you backwards until the back of your knees hit the mattress. You help him in ripping off your cardigan, discarding it somewhere across the room. Next to go was your spaghetti-strap tank top, leaving you in your bra and jeans. He leans back to admire you, hands sliding up your waist and to your breasts. He cups them gently, squeezing you like you were delicate glass. You grab at his flannel and begin to chug it down his shoulders, he assists you before letting it fall to the ground. His shirt joins the pile soon and now it was your time to admire him. You lean back in to lavish his neck in kisses and licks and move down to his shoulder, biting gently as his hands run up and down your back and he hums lowly in his throat. His hand hitches when it hits your bra strap and he expertly unhooks it, leaving it hanging around your shoulders. You pull back to shuck it from your body. He shamelessly stares, bringing his hand back to them once again and testing the weight of you in his hands. His gaze flicks back up to yours.
“Lay down.” He invites, watching you as you take it and flop down onto the mattress, propping yourself on your elbows as you meet his gaze. He bends over you, unbuttoning your jeans before hooking fingers around your belt loops and beginning to tug your pants down your legs. You assist by lifting your ass off the bed as he gets them past your thighs, to your shins and then off completely. He then works at his own pants before pulling them off, leaving him in his boxers.
He looked so good, your mouth watered for him. You wanted to taste him, to feel him against your tongue, anything to make him feel good. You sit up before standing completely. He looks at you confused but when you sink to your knees in front of him, it seems to click.
“Can’t say no to that.” He chuckles, watching as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. You slowly bring them down, revealing the last bit of his happy trail, top of the pelvis until finally his cock springs free, half-hard. You peer up at him, a little smile tugging at your lips as you lick your hand and begin to pump him slowly. He groans as you stroke him, head tilting backwards and eyes fluttering closed, which you thought was funny considering you hadn’t even taken him into your mouth yet.
But then you finally do, starting at the tip, you swallow him down as much as you can before wrapping your hand around the part you cannot. Then, you start to slowly come off him, lips and tongue running over every ridge and vein until you reach the very tip again and repeat the process. If you could bottle the noises he made while you worked him over, you would and keep it forever. His grunts and groans were everything you’d ever wanted to hear since you’d met him. All those nights fantasizing was nothing compared to the real thing. His hand comes to the back of your head, not to push you or hurry you along, but just to feel you as you slide back and forth. You fight back a gag as he hits the back of your throat, hot tears spring from your eyes but it’s worth it just to make him feel good. You mourn for your mascara but this was about him, so makeup be damned.
“God, you're good at that.” He moans before pulling out of your mouth with a pop. You look up at him, drool covering your chin as you bring a hand to wipe it up.
“And as much as I’d like to paint your pretty face, I wanna feel what it’s like to be inside you.”
You nod and he helps you stand before escorting you to the bed, you lay down, pulling off your remaining panties and throwing them across the room. You’d have to go on a scavenger hunt to find all of your belongings later but that wasn’t a problem for now.
You peer over at him when you hear a rummaging sound and he’s pawing through his bedside drawer.
“Condom?” You ask, resting your head on your bent arm as you watch.
“I swear there’s one in here.” He says, frustrated.
“Aha!” He pulls out a foil wrapped condom before tearing open the packaging with his teeth. He pulls it out, rolling it onto his erect member before using two fingers to beckon you over.
“Come to the edge of the bed.” He says, voice like honey. You shake your head though, you’d wanted to ride him for a while now and tonight seemed like the perfect opportunity.
“I want to ride you.” You say, scooting over and patting the space beside you.
“Come get comfy.” You purr, flipping over so your ass was on display. It seems to work as you watch his adam's apple bob before he’s climbing into bed and settling in amongst the pillows.
“I could never say no to you.” He smiles at the ceiling before turning his attention to you.
“I’m going to remember you said that.” You say, climbing over him. He immediately goes for your tits, grasping them in both hands before running his thumbs over your perked nipples. You moan as he does, the attention sending energy straight down to your core. You look back down at him to see him biting his lip as he watches his hands play with the soft flesh.
“Like what you see?” You ask, your hands slotting over his against your chest.
“Always have.” He admits, eyes finally finding yours as you peer down at him from your perched position. You tilt your head, trying to find the answer in his eyes before you even asked the question.
“Really?”
He drops his hands to your thighs and sighs.
“Well duh. Have you seen you?” He squeezes your thighs gently. “You’re like super hot.”
You laugh, taking a hand to cup the side of his face.
“Wish you told me that when we were seniors.” You say, he turns to kiss your wrist.
“Live and learn.” He chuckles before tapping your thigh. “Now, are you gonna do what you came here for?”
You look behind you, he’s still angrily erect, a bead of precum drips from the tip.
“That looks painful.” You coo, scooting backwards, “Let me fix that for you.”
“Thank God.” He sighs to the ceiling, you just laugh again before taking him in your hand and running his cock through your folds, slicking him in your juices. You were ready for him, had been since he kissed you, even more when he groped you so shamelessly.
Once he was well and truly slicked, you align him with your entrance before slowly sinking down on him. You cry out as you take him inch by inch, he lets out a guttural moan when you finally hit the base, stretching you out.
“Shit, you’re tight.” He grits through his teeth, hands coming to hold your waist in support.
He sits up and ducks his head to lavish your nipple in attention, sucking gently before licking over with his hot tongue. You sigh at the sensation, nails raking over his back as you begin to move up slowly, rising on your knees. He felt so good, like he was made for you. The burning sensation had already subsided and all there was now was sweet pleasure. You wondered what your relationship would be like after this, were you going to go on actual dates now, be fuck buddies? You knew your feelings were too strong for him to be anything casual, your heart would break at the prospect of this being a one time thing. But it all depended on what he wanted, what he thought of you. He admitted he had thought you were attractive to him since you’d met but is that all he felt? Lust?
He moves to kiss your shoulder, nipping at the skin there as you sink back down. He could be so tender, you’ve learned in your time with him tonight, so caring. It again made you question his intentions, how could someone who was so loving want just to fuck you? He brings his head up to kiss you again, swallowing down your moans as you sink back down, more quickly this time, harder. Soon enough you’ve got a pace down and he’s snapping his hips up to meet you in the middle, creating a delicious friction that has you hurtling towards an orgasm at lightning speed. You can see it on the horizon, steadily approaching.
You separate your tangled tongues to warn him of your upcoming release.
“Josh,” You pant as he snaps his hips up once more, you pause to let out a moan, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”
“By all means,” He quips, letting out another grunt as you meet his pelvis.
With another thrust, you’re there, cumming as you cry out his name. Your walls flutter around him and it’s enough to have him flustered.
“Oh shit, I’m gonna-” But he doesn’t finish before he fills the condom with his seed, letting out a long moan that makes you clench around him. You loved the sounds he made throughout this whole experience, loved the way he touched you, the way he fucked you, you loved… him.
After he is finished, you slide from him, settling in amongst the sheets next to him. He pulls off the condom before tying it off, tossing it into the trash can beside the bed. After, he pulls you onto his chest and wraps an arm around you, fingers running up and down your spine. You rest a hand on his stomach, eyes fluttering shut after the effort you put into making love to him. He kisses your temple before checking the time on the alarm clock on the side table.
“Shit.” He mutters. You peek your eyes open.
“What?” You ask, heart dropping for some reason, like you could’ve caused the sudden change of mood.
“I’ve gotta do something.” He says, unwrapping from you and finding his clothes. You follow in suit, finding your panties before sliding them up your legs. Before long you’re both dressed. He catches your hand and pulls you into an embrace.
“Listen…” He says, pulling away. You dread the look on his face, like he was fighting something internally.
“What? Is something wrong?” You ask quietly, almost afraid of the question.
“I know I invited you here.” He starts, for some reason he looks… guilty?
“But you need to leave.”
Your heart sinks to your stomach… what?
“What?” You ask, voice harboring a little quiver.
“Shit’s about to go down and I don’t want you near it.” He says, honestly. But, what did that mean? What shit was about to go down?
“What do you mean?” You ask, completely lost.
“I need you to trust me.” He grabs your shoulders and gives you a look. A look that strikes you as the most serious you’d ever seen him. You have no choice but to trust him, to do as he asked. You still had a million questions but his stare silences you.
“I do.” Is what you settle on and he kisses your forehead at the acceptance.
“Great.” He lets you go before making his way to the door and opening it for you, you walk through and he follows closely as you make your way down the stairs and to the door. You were sore, still feeling him between your legs. Normally, it’d be something that made you blush but you were feeling too confused, too puzzled to think of anything else as you pull on your parka and grab your suitcase. You turn to say something but he grabs your face and kisses you deeply. You return in, eyes closing and hands going to his waist before you both pull apart.
“I promise everything will make sense by dawn.” He says, letting you go and opening the large front door. You just nod, what else could you do?
So, you left, stepping into the cold night and soon enough you’re in the cable car, slowly making your way down the mountain. A million questions swarmed your head but those would have to wait… until dawn.
hiii! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write some yandere Josh Washington x gn!reader headcannons?
Like what attracted him to them, how he gets closer, creepy tendencies of his, etc etc
maybe how it changes before and after his sisters go missing?? Or just after, whichever you like!
Thank you so muchhh!!
Yandere!Josh Washington hcs
Pairings | Yandere!Joshua "Josh" Washington x GN! reader hcs
Game | Until Dawn
A/n | oh, I'm more than willing! Thank you so much for the ask! Honestly, Josh, as a yandere, is something I absolutely LOVE! I will say this one part gets a tiny bit suggestive, so fair warning for that x
-Oh, where to begin with josh
-Let's start with how he was before his sisters went missing
-Ever since he met you in his psychology class, he had a massive crush on you. Falling in love with how you think, act, your humor, all of you. Everything about you caught his attention and gave him something to look forward to throughout his day.
-Once you two became friends, you were inseparable! Practically attached at the hip!
-Eventually, Josh brought you to meet his other friends and even his sisters, beth and hannah, inviting all of you to the anual blackwood getaway!
-All of you quickly got close, which Josh loved. He wanted you to bond with his family and friends. He wanted you to become more a part of his life than you already were
-Well, he wanted that until one day, Mike took a chance to hit on you while hanging out. The moment he heard him talking to you in such a way, he felt jealous, a pang in his heart that he didn't quite understand.
-For a little while, he actually felt bad for feeling jealous. I mean, you two weren't together, so what should it matter to him..?
-From that day forward, he'd try to get you as far away from Mike or anyone who would flirt with you while still trying to make it seem as if he wasn't doing a thing
-To say he's in love with you is really an understatement.. He's infatuated with you. Somehow, some way, you managed to sneak into his mind and infect it. All he could think about was you, how you were, who you were talking too it was all so much for him and he didn't want to tell you what he was feeling I mean you'd totally think he was a creep
-So, for a while, he kept things casual. He kept acting as if he had just seen you as a friend, but behind that was something more;
-He had picked up these small..habits of following you around the campus of the collage you both went to. He'd watch you intently when you weren't looking. Scanning up and down your body practically undressing you and thinking about what it would feel like to have you all to himself, your bodies close together, he'd even take pictures of you while you weren't looking
-Part of him is ashamed, but that part he tried to keep dead silent.
-Now as..tame..as he was then after his sisters went missing things got so much worse
-You were there for him after the news of what happened got out. You were caring, loving, and oh so kind. That was your first mistake.
-After days of being taken care of by you, having you by his side nearly 24/7, and being checked up on by him, his infatuation grew into obsession.
-Just as you plauged his mind before, you did it again. This time, you were the only thing he could think about at all times. No one else mattered. You cared for him and loved him. You were obviously saying you were his.
-Whenever you would try to leave his house because you had work or classes or even just had things to do in your personal life, he'd get upset. Did you not love him enough? Do you not care for him? Maybe you just want him to rot away alone after losing his sisters. Why were you trying to leave him?
-His behavior got increasingly worse. Screw trying to hide his feelings for you, he made it clear he loved you. He was infatuated with you..24/7 love bombing always came from his side. Somehow, some way that led to you and him being together.
-When he wasn't telling you how much he loved you, needed you, cared for you, and showering you in compliments to the point it made you feel as if you were suffocating he often would guilt you if you tried leaving the house without him or do anything without him really. throwing himself in your arms and sobbing, muttering things about how he couldn't live without you, and at a certain point, he fully convinced himself that was true.
-Constantly he is at your side, he just wants to show his love. It's not like you're trapped or anything but if you go out he goes with you..if you talk to someone he find out who they are and all of their personal information just incase they get too close and well if they did, they'd be in for a rude. Rude. Awakening.
-Ignore how you haven't seen them in weeks! I'm sure their fine!
-Josh is just doing what he can to keep you in his life. To show you he loves you and you love him..right?
How do you think each of the friends met each other or get along? Their friend group is so angry and irritable after Hannah and Beth died. I think they’re all kind of a weird fit as friends.
Also, do you have a masterlist?
Hi there! I’ve been wondering this myself for the past few days actually! So I was glad you asked so I could share my speculations. And no, I don’t have a masterlist yet. I’m not entirely sure how to make one lolll
I think that for sure they were all popular kids at school. With Mike being class president, the twins and Matt being athletic stars (there’s trophies and photos with them having awards), Jess being Jess(homecoming queen), and Josh and Emily(also a 4.0 student) being rich kids, I feel like they all just gravitated to each other. Chris and Ash are the only outliers in my head. But with Sam and Chris being Hannah and Josh’s best friends, it makes it easier. So here’s how I think it all worked out
Josh brought in Chris for sure. Hannah brought in Sam for sure, and she probably brought in Mike too, since she liked him a lot. I feel like Josh could’ve also. Emily and Jess are best friends, so they’re a package deal. Beth and Jess also get along based on their relationship status at the start of the game.
So maybe
Josh brought in Chris
Hannah brought in Sam
Chris brought in Ashley
Hannah or Josh brought in Mike
With Mike came Emily and Jess
And Matt is there somehow
Alternatively,
Josh brought in Chris
Hannah brought in Sam
Chris brought in Ashley
Hannah or Josh brought in Mike
Beth brought in Jess
With Jess came Emily
And Matt is there somehow
It’s hard to tell how they could’ve come together because we didn’t get much of the group interacting together before everything happened. In all honesty, I think they’re just the popular kids at school who ended up gravitating together and dating each other. They each have their own 2-3 person friend group within the friend group. But it definitely makes for an interesting watch. I bet the high school drama was CRAZY.
How do you think it would go if Josh was with Chris’s younger sister
How it would be if Josh was dating Chris’s younger sister
Oh my gosh, I love this request! I actually had some friends in this situation last year, so it’s kind of funny to be writing about it now. Also, this will be before Josh’s sisters go missing, or an AU where they never do. We need everyone to be silly and happy here
Chris’s side of things
Josh and Chris are best buds, they have been since the 3rd grade
They’ve been with each other through thick and thin, they share everything with each other!
Jokes, clothes, food, the list goes on
One thing that was never on the table, though, was their younger siblings.
Chris was fine in that aspect. He’d never felt anything romantic towards Beth and Hannah, as sweet as they were. He’d had his eye on Ashley for a while.
But when Josh starts leaving lingering gazes toward his baby sister, he subconsciously begins feeling a little protective.
(she’s only a year younger, but it pisses her off when he calls her that so he continues to do so)
There wasn’t concrete evidence yet that Josh liked her, but Chris's suspicion grew when he started inviting her to join their group hangouts.
and when he saw Josh taking his spot next to her at the movies, whispering into her ear instead of cracking jokes with him
and when he always seemed to be searching the crowd for her at parties
and when he kept not so subtly asking Chris questions about what she was into, if she was single, etc
(His hackles were raised with that one, but Josh rushed to say he was joking) he wasn’t
But… Josh couldn’t like HIS little sister, right?
Josh was his best bro, but… c’mon! He’s kind of a perv. And he had a few…issues. Definitely NOT the type to bring home to her high-strung mother.
But that didn't matter, because Josh definitely doesn’t like his baby sis
At least that's what Chris chooses to believe
Ignorance is bliss, as they say
Until he is forced to acknowledge it when he’s heading to the bathroom at a party and sees you and Josh making out in the hallway
All previous bladder needs are out the window as he freaks out at both of you
Eventually, he gets over it, he knows Josh well enough to know he won’t hurt you intentionally. And if he does, he’s sure Hannah and Beth will join him in kicking Josh’s ass <3
Josh’s side of things
Josh has known Chris since he was like 9, and they’ve been locked in ever since
He knew Chris had a little sister, but they’d never spoken more than 8 words to each other in one sitting
Except for the one time he stayed at Chris’s house and she “beat” him at Mario Kart
IT WAS TOTALLY HIS WIN UNTIL SHE BLUE-SHELLED HIM
needless to say, he still held a slight grudge
It didn’t help that they didn’t go to the same school as them, staying with her mother during the week and Chris’s family on the weekends
The messy dynamic was lost on Josh, but it worked for them
It wasn’t until the summer of junior year that he met her again.
There was a party, there was banter and there was dancing, and there was this beautiful girl who he might’ve been a little in love with
and also he may have been a little drunk
So imagine his shock when his best bud comes around and reintroduces the pair
Josh fought very hard to control his facial expression from contorting into shock
He bit his tongue and forced a grin with only one thought on his mind as he looked between the pair, noticing a few similar facial features
‘Oh shit’
Of course, Josh isn’t a quitter
So when he woke up in the morning with a text from her, thanking him for the dance and for the invite to hang out with everyone next week, he cursed his drunk perseverance
It would be the smart thing to leave his best friend's sister alone
It never ends well in all of the movies he watches
Betrayal, fistfights, arguments, the whole shebang he would gladly like to avoid with Chris
He resolves to see her at the hangout, have a good time, then never talk to her again
except that doesn’t happen
Somehow she charms another invite out of him, and another, and another
And before he knows it, Josh is in deep
He tries to be subtle about it, inviting her to group outings, asking Chris questions about his sister, real lowkey stuff
When he casually asks her on a date, with just the two of them, they mutually agree it’s best if they keep it quiet for now
And when they officially start going out, they try even harder to hide their relationship until the time is right for Chris to find out
“the right time” ended up being at Holly Becker’s 4th of July party as they made out in the mostly empty hallway
Never in his life had Josh been so freaked out
thankfully, Chris seemed to take it well
It feels like a weight is off his chest now that he can be honest with him again
Plus, now he can go back to making horny jokes without feeling weird about it
(he is dodging Chris’s punches each time he opens his mouth)
Your side of things
You’d always thought Chris’s best friend was kind of cute
Of course, as all childhood crushes go, the best way to show it was in competitiveness and aggression
You absolutely demolished that poor kid in Mario Kart, many times in fact
But when things between your parents got more tense, you stopped being able to hang out as much
It was weird at first, but soon with your new school your mind was filled with other things and you nearly forgot all about that Josh guy your brother always hung out with
Aside from a few photos he posted on his socials or the rare glimpse of them on the weekends, you hardly even saw him
So when the summer of Sophmore year comes up and Chris invites you to go to one of his friend’s infamous parties, the guy is the last person on your mind
You’re in your hottest outfit, your hair and makeup immaculate, your glasses traded for contacts, and ready to let loose
And let loose you do! Before you know it there’s this funny guy who’s kind of cute dancing with you the entire night
and when Chris comes trotting over introducing the guy as his best bud, you giggle a little inside
You’re about to be the main character of one of those brother’s best friend stories, and you can’t wait!
I feel like there's way less risk for you in this, because 1. Chris can’t stay mad at you, and 2. You’re kind of your own person at this point, free to date who you want to
So you gladly accept all of the charming Josh’s invitations to parties and hangouts
and you lean into him when he throws his arm over you at the movies, and laugh as he whispers jokes into your ear
and laugh it off when Chris finds you both in the hallway at Holly Becker’s party, because you know that he won’t stay mad at Josh forever
Lil fun things
You and Josh fight who can have him as your best man/man of honor
(Josh wins and counts that as revenge against the Blue Shell incident of 2006)
Holidays are the best with the two families combined
When you guys announce that you’re pregnant, Chris is ecstatic before being immensely grossed out
He enjoys being the best uncle ever though
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