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prettyboykatsuki · 2 years ago

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HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO | PART 2

⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)

⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.

all sexual content present in this part.

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF NONCON, COERCION, AND SEXUAL VIOLENCE.

⊹ wc ; 18.4k / 36.1k

link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.

LINK TO PART ONE.

⊹ a/n ; here's part two!! miss ame has read it so im all good to post. i will upload to ao3 as soon as im awake i promise lol. hope you enjoy the fic and please heed the tags. likes and rbs always appreciated. also the last part is, relatively tame. the crazy gets amped up to ten so be careful.

⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.

"You must learn, once you have sampled the freedom of a life without a chain, that it is better to return and be chained again. Or you may learn that it is not—a fugitive is also a kind of dog." - andrew kane, how to be a dog.

�� PART TWO : SOMETHING TAKEN IS BORROWED. SOMETHING RUINED IS YOURS.

Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white.

Gojo Satoru sits on his hands and watches the blizzard outside from his window. His apartment is dark and there’s frost on his window. He can hear the wind from inside, and can feel the cold chill of glass as he stands close to it.

Snow is falling outside. The world is covered in white. Spring feels like an innocent century ago.

Nothing’s changed, but everything is different. It’s starting to feel comedic. It’s so cyclical. He has two states of being. Being with you, and not. It dictates his internal world. He functions the same as usual. Repetition. Working, coming home, and waiting.

Gojo feels like he’s waiting. Perpetually waiting for time to set again so he can see you. There’s something in him only you can fulfill - an itch only you can scratch. Gojo is drawn to irreplaceable people, so perhaps it’s no surprise that he’s latched onto you this way.

There’s nothing to call it other than greed. Sometimes love, but mostly greed. A habit he can’t break free from. Gojo wants to see you. He doesn’t know why either. There’s not any particular reason. Or if there is, he hasn’t examined it too deeply. Gojo has always known in some innate way that he’s lonely. That his loneliness makes him untouchable - but not in the same way it might make a God.

The thought of doing anything without you makes paranoia creep up in his throat like bile. Gojo is that sort of lonely. Is it too much to ask to be next to someone, who never goes anywhere he can’t see? Monopolizing your time and all the ways to do it best take up most of his energy.

When was the last time anyone made him feel warm, in the cold white of winter? He thinks maybe he realized it too late, that he cares about you this much.

The reality is that Jujutsu Sorcerers are better off learning how to cut their losses. You love people and they die. You like people and they die. Gojo doesn’t think he can accept that from you so easily. He doesn’t think he should have too.

Does he need a good reason to want to keep you?

Gojo doesn’t want to make you hate him. He just wants to make sure you’re alive even if it means you might hate him. You might never understand either. Because you are still foolish, naive and human. Is that really asking for so much?

It makes him hesitate from the call to action. That instinct in his bones. He sees having met you as a blessing from the Heavens who’ve banished him. Gojo Satoru is not god. He understands God, but he’s not God.

No matter how much Gojo reaches for omnipotence, his long fingers can’t stretch towards it. Godliness is uninhabitable, an abandoned house. If Gojo casts his eyes on you for more than one second, he can do nothing but long. How can God long? Perhaps if he were more godlike, he could treat your inevitable death like a sacrifice. A martyrdom, or proof of your undying love for him.

Despite that, he understands how God's love can reach. Inciting violence to bring you closer to him is merciful. It’s only then you’ll come to understand it to the highest extent. That Gojo loves you after all, more than anything mortal in his world. He can hold all of you in his hands, keep you safe for the rest of your life. It’s what he wants so badly. If you just give him the chance to protect you - he could do it so easily.

Religion can be so much like a dog and its master. Maybe, you could understand Gojo’s feelings if you saw it as an animal instinct to protect you. Even if it’s a falsity, a fictitious tale, detached from what's true.

He doesn’t want you to hate him. He’s your watch dog, your keeper, your divine love. He needs you all to himself and he needs you to understand that you’re his reprieve. That in a universe decided by fate, the two of you are also red strings knotted together perversely.

He needs you. He needs you. He needs you.

Snow is falling.

Come Saturday, Gojo receives a knock on his door.

He’s usually sleeping in on the weekends, so he’s startled by it. School doesn’t start till later and if it was an emergency relating to sorcery - Yagi would’ve dialed him personally. He answers the door with sleep still in his, rubbing his eyelids as he yawns. He’s dressed in his P.J.’s with his hair messy and mind jumbled.

He’s not unhappy though, when he opens the door up to see you. You’ve got something in your arms, a bag it looks like and a look on your face that Gojo can’t decipher.

“Oh,” He says after registering who he’s talking to you “What’re you doing here so early?”

You sigh, deeply, rubbing your arm. That anxious little habit again, your eyes darting every which way.

“A pipe broke in my apartment. Like, flooded the whole thing. Spent the whole morning scrounging my stuff together a-and I called maintenance but they won’t be here for a while and.” You stutter as you explain yourself and Gojo stares at you in confusion “I need a place to stay but going back to my parents right now is gonna be so hard and plus there’s work,”

Gojo soothes you silently, putting a hand up.

“Hey, calm down,” He says first, smiling up at you. He reaches out to pat your head “I’m here. It’s okay. Slow down and tell me what's wrong?”

You sigh, closing your eyes and bracing yourself.

“Would it be alright if I stayed with you? Just for a few days, until I figure this all out?”

If God exists, maybe this is his way of giving Gojo grace. Gojo takes a minute to pretend, leans against his door frame and watches you fidget anxiously. He blinks at you, the way your teeth are pressing into your lip. You fold underneath the pressure of his gaze easily. He hums and haws.

“Hm,” He says, leaving you uncertain for as long as he can before you try to react. He’s memorized all your tells by heart “Well, there’s no reason not to, right? You’ll have to sleep in my bed though.”

He half-jokes, but not really. He waits on your reaction.

“Oh, uhm, then,”

He interrupts just then, raising his voice. You jump back.

“Just kidding! Of course you can stay with me. I’ll take the couch for a few days so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, okay? Stay as long as you like.”

You look relieved. It makes Gojo smile a bit watching you take a deep breath, leaning on the door frame as he stares.

“What?” You ask when you notice. He shakes his head.

“It’s cute when you get nervous,” He says, inhibitions lowered. You pout at him and Gojo has to stop himself from reaching forward to grab your face in his hands.

“You’re so mean,” You say with a sigh, arms crossed over your chest “I was really freaking out just now,”

“I know, I know - but it’s kinda fun watching you fuss. Dunno. Maybe it’s cause I’m sleepy,”

“You're wide awake right now!” You point out. He snorts.

“Noo, what? I’m half-asleep right now,”

“Gojo,” You whine, and he has to stop the blood rushing through his body “Let me in? Please?”

“Try Satoru. Sa-to-ru,” He says. You frown at him, sighing as you rub your face.

“Satoru,” You say, hardly getting the syllables out “L-let me in,”

He pats your head one more time as your frown deepens.

“Good girl,” He purrs, before switching his tone to a more lax one as he welcomes you “Come on in!”

Another sigh of relief. Gojo finds it fascinating that you can find relief in his presence. It speaks to how well he’s been doing to make sure he’s acting in accordance to expectations. Despite how easy the opportunity has fallen into him, he doesn’t think it’s time yet. You’re still skittish.

Still, he should get something out of your stay here. And he will, but he should let you settle in first. He gives you a hum as you shuffle inside, standing awkwardly in his living room. He shuts the door behind you and locks it up.

“Don’t be so stiff,” He says, waving a hand in the air before yawning “My home is your home. Be comfortable. Is there anything you need or wanna do?”

“Could I borrow your shower?”

Gojo feels something pressing into his ribs at the idea of you using his things - sharp and sinful.

“I was gonna shower this morning but, y’know.” You gesture vaguely. He’s quick to agree of course, nodding his head as he points in the general direction of the bathroom.

“Pretty sure our places are built the same so you should know where it is. The towels on the rack are all clean. Feel free to use anything in there and uhhh,” He scratches his head unsure of what else he needs to add. Though he’s certain he’s missing something “Oh, and I’ll give you some clothes,”

You flush at the sentiment. So maybe you do know what this seems like, at least on the surface. Gojo peers at you as you turn his words over, interjecting before you have a chance to refuse.

“Don’t say no,” He says, voice sing-songy. watching your expression morph into something nervous again. Maybe you caught it, because you certainly jump in your skin, but he switches into himself with ease. Over and over and over - startling you never gets less fun “Let me play out my domestic fantasies a bit as compensation,”

“That’s a bad joke,” You say, throat thick.

You want to trust him don’t you? He wants to praise you for that.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s lonely. Let me indulge a little,” He begs with enough lightheartedness that you don’t run away.

“Geez. I thought you were popular with the ladies,” You try and joke back, though it’s stilted and awkward. He can tell you’re getting prepared to squeeze to the bathroom before the conversation is too much.

“Old ladies do love me,” He says contemplative. You elbow him lightly.

“Stupid.”

He gives you a soft smile as you pass by him.

“Is there anything else that you need while you’re in there?”

“I don’t think so,” You reply back. Gojo watches you disappear into the hall, trailing after you silently. He waits, listening carefully for the sound of the shower to turn on.

When the water rushes, he follows you.

He almost has a conscious standing in front of the closed door. The water pressure in his apartment is a little higher than it’s supposed to be. The closed walls keep all the noise inside them, making it almost impossible to hear what’s going on outside. Even with heightened senses like him.

For someone like you, it’s probably impossible.

It’s knowing that he follows behind you, lying in wait. He counts up to 5 minutes as he waits, letting you settle into it before he puts his hand on the door knob. He finds it unlocked. He’s pleased with that.

You trust him, or you try too.

When he feels certain you’re relaxed, he opens the door. He could teleport in but it’s noisy. Steam plumes outward as the door opens. He looks around the bathroom. Your clothes are folded neatly, with your pants hanging on the rack next to you.

He stares at the fabric for a long time, contemplating what he has time for.

Ultimately, he suppresses whatever urges come up to do what he came for. Too many to count and even more that are risky to act on. Instead, he checks the tags of each piece, committing it to memory. After, he stares at the shower curtain until he’s sure he overstayed his welcome.

He leaves right after though, shutting the door just as quietly as he opened it.

The less you know the better. Gojo makes his way back into the living room.

He sits on his couch when he’s back. The sun hasn’t come up yet and he’s only turned on a single lamp for light. It’s hard for him to describe how he’s feeling. Things have been different for weeks now, but proceeding normally hasn’t caused him too many issues. Strangely the sense of routine has been grounding.

He’s been dealing with it better than he expected. For all of that restraint to unravel so quickly is funny.

But, Gojo thinks, that everything leading up to now must’ve been a sign. There are so many instances that befall him that feel aligned with fate. He’s naive in thinking you're different. He’s the only heir of the Gojo clan, the only one with the Six Eyes for nearly 400 years. He hears the water rush faintly through the walls of his apartment, picturing you trapped in those four walls. He thinks of how you met. Your proximity to each other.

It’s only now and in such circumstances does he think that you’re the due that the universe is paying back to him. Robbed of everything, of every joy he’s ever had - it’s both righteous and fair to take you. Gojo doesn’t want you to hate him. Not necessarily.

But they always say in sickness and in health. Through the best of times and the worst. If you were made for him like he suspects (like he knows, believes deep down) then he thinks it’ll be fine. As long as it's you. As long as it’s yours. Even if you cry or scream, what matters to Gojo is that it’s yours. That he’s yours.

Holding back is starting to be too much. Gojo’s never been the type to sit on his hands and wait. Being scared is so much like starving. Deprivation like that always threatens to turn Gojo to ruin.

But like anything he does though, he can’t take the easy way out. There’s a method to the madness. An order even among his most disorderly actions, there’s things that need to be done the right way for the best possible outcome. On less of a whim than it seems, Gojo decides that he’ll do his best to make that reality happen.

The thought settles in his body and suddenly he’s present again. He feels a pang of hunger in his stomach, causing him to stand to his feet. He feels lighter as he waltzes into the kitchen, whistling to himself on what he should make. Maybe crepes? He’s not a skilled cook but he’s pretty good at making those.

At the very least, he thinks you’ll like them too. He proceeds into a normal-ish routine. He follows the motions of making breakfast as he hums to himself silently. Grabs a bowl from the cupboard, eggs and milk from the fridge, and flour from the pantry.

He thinks to himself, immersing himself in the practical ritual. His comment from earlier about domestic fantasies was a half-joke at best. Gojo really does want to do this kind of thing with you, and he doesn’t want to miss the opportunity to play the part either. Even if it’s temporary. He’s giddy at the thought of doing this with you everyday, a warm fluttery feeling spreading through his body.

He grabs a whisk off of the wall as he dumps everything into an empty bowl, turning the heat of a non-stick low. He whistles a song he can’t remember the name of, cracking an egg on the metal edge.

Despite living in a nicer part of Tokyo, Gojo has yet to have an induction stove top. It’s not uncommon to have gas for smaller, cheaper apartments. Most of the stovetops in the Jujutsu Tech dorms are gas and Gojo has no issue using them. He doesn’t cook for himself often in the first place, so he’s never thought to complain about it or get it changed.

Maybe he should. Once you live here, it might get inconvenient. The thing about gas stoves is that they never heat evenly. It’s not impossible to work with, and the heat is easier to control - but induction lets every inch of the pan get hot the same way.

( He often thinks of the analogy for boiling a frog. If you put anything living in heat too directly, it’ll jump to save itself. But if you keep the heat tepid, gently raising the heat till it boils - it’ll let itself stay in the treacherous waters until the very end. It’s best to keep the heat even. It’s best to fix it sometime soon. )

The whisk makes a pleasant sound as it hits the bowl, metallic scratch softened by the presence of batter. He picks the whisk up and watches the yellow liquid drip off the edge, a hand over the pan. Still too cool to the touch, he clicks his teeth.

He waits, idly. The shower turns off, he hears, and feels his breath hitch. He has to steel himself, curb his enthusiasm.

Too much heat, and you’ll jump to save yourself.

Once the pan is hot enough, Gojo busies himself with cooking. It helps him distract himself, the monotony of pouring and flipping and waiting. He gets through almost 6 before he hears your feet pad gently across his hardwood floor, slipping into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your neck.

You’re wearing what seems like the only clothes you managed to bring. Gojo wonders how long it’ll last you. Despite it, he notices the way you smell. How you smell like all of his fancy bath products and soaps. There’s a twitch in his sweats that he barely gets under control. He lowers the heat and turns to you.

“Morning,” He says. You giggle a little.

“Morning. Are you making breakfast?”

“Yes ma'am. The only thing I know how to make but,” He puffs his chest up “Pretty good, I’m told.”

You roll your eyes at him, but smile anyway

“Guess I’ll be the judge of that,”

“The audacity,” He says, full of theatrics “I’ll knock your socks off,”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” You say, flippant and giggly. Gojo decides then, maybe, in its entirety. That he’ll have all of you and soon “Can I help with anything?”

“Get started on some coffee maybe,”

You nod your head and yawn.

“Sounds good to me,”

You decide to stay for a week.

More precisely, Gojo convinces you to stay for a week. That’s how long it will take for your apartment to get fixed completely. Concerned about inconveniencing him, you initially suggested 3 days - insisted you could find somewhere else or pay for a hotel for the rest of the time.

But Gojo insisted too. A week is more than fine (even longer would be better) and there’s no reason for you to go out of your way. Hotels are expensive, your parents live out in the countryside, and it’s not like you can’t board with a friend for a few days right?

But won’t that trouble you? Of course not. Gojo doesn’t mind at all. It’s like having a week-long sleep-over.

I don’t have the stuff I need. That’s fine. Gojo can take care of it. He already bought some clothes for you, an act of kindness. He can get the rest too. You can consider it a favor, if you really want to be sure.

Are you sure? Of course he’s sure. More than sure. You’re doing him a big favor, he assures with nothing but affection. Being alone at home is pretty boring, anyways. What’s sleeping in the same room when we’re neighbors?

Even with your unease, you agree to stay the whole week. You’re weak to being convinced, and hard-pressed on not fighting about things Gojo is adamant on.

(He’d be stupid not to notice how your earnesty makes you easy to exploit. It’s a good thing it’s only Gojo who knows.)

The first day passes quietly. You and Gojo go to your respective jobs and greet each other when you get home. At home, things are simple. Domestic. There’s no other way to view it. You graded papers and looked over lesson plans in the living room while Gojo got in his daily sets - TV playing in the background with neither of you particularly tuned in. Gojo sleeps on the couch.

(He doesn’t make it a day without touching himself. The proximity is too much, too stimulating, and even with all of the restraint in the universe - it’s hard for him to stave it off. What you don’t know can’t hurt you. Alone under the moon, he thinks of what you look like when you’re embarrassed and spills into his hand.

Eventually, he’ll graduate to watching over you. You leave the door unlocked because you’re naive and Gojo stands with his cock in his fist, watching intently. You squirm in your sleep but you sleep deeply - because despite all the noise, you don’t stir one even once. He stops it from touching you, so close to your mouth, to your skin. )

On the second day of living together, the clothes Gojo bought you come to his door. You’re not home when it arrives, so he waits until you are home to open it with you. You come home a little later than usual (parent-teacher conferences, apparently).

(“I have a surprise for you!” Gojo says, as finally comes back into the living room. You’ve returned from your shower, on your last pair of PJ’s. You blink at him softly, tilting your head to one side as he hands you a package.

“For me?” You ask. Gojo nods, grinning.

“For you,” He confirms. He walks with you as you set the box onto the coffee table. You stare at it for a minute, glancing up at Gojo. Your eyes search for your keys. Once you find them, you take the sharpest key and rip through the tape on the top of its sides. An unceremonious krrk sounds through the room, echoing in the dimly lit living room.

The clothes are wrapped in white, plastic packaging. You pick them individually, examining them closely. You look at Gojo again, more uncertain than before.

But Gojo shakes his head, nudging you towards opening the packages themselves. A promise to explain afterwards, silent in the air. You nod, confused, but do as he suggests. You rip the top open, dropping the thin plastic onto the table. More bags, this time clear. You repeat the action until the material flounces in your hands. You undo the careful folding for a minute, then stare at it.

“...Clothes?” You repeat.

“Surprise!” He says with his usual silly cadence “For you, free of charge.”

A lot of things pass over your expression. Gojo watches each of them carefully, amused. He wonders what you’ll do. What you’re thinking, it’s a shame Gojo can’t read your mind.

“How’d you know my size?” You say first, inquisitive but not accusatory. Gojo shrugs.

“Guessed. We’ve spent enough time together,” He says noncommittally. Your face changes, like you don’t quite believe him. But there’s not enough there for you to question him either. He can almost hear you narrate it in your head. The heart you wear on your sleeve, tender red and bleeding, thumps anxiously as you try to get a read on him. It’s not a sound he dislikes.

He’s been good to you. He’s just being nice. You shake your head, regretful of your own doubt for a minute. You force a smile, and Gojo doesn’t hate it even though he knows where it comes from.

The power of love, he thinks almost whimsically.

“This is a big box. How much stuff did you even get?” You repeat, noticing the contents are up to the top. He feigns indifference. Pretends not to know that he spent countless hours looking over it.

“Mm, dunno. Just whatever I thought you’d need.”

“I’m only here for a week, Gojo.” You mutter, hands grazing over the cardboard edge.

“So? Maybe you need a lot of stuff. I don’t know what women go through.” He says with a pout, lips together. Joking with you to lighten the mood, which makes you huff through your nose.

“You’re so dumb. It’s too much stuff,”

“I already bought it and I don’t feel like returning it,” He tells you, making it clear he’s not going to negotiate “Just think of it as a gift from Santa Claus.”

You snort.

“You even have the hair,” You reply. Trying to make yourself feel better in the process, Gojo gives you a half smile “Still. I feel like I’m really indebted to you, lately.”

“Yeah? You can count this week as one big favor, if that makes it easier.”

“I don’t remember Santa doing favors for people,” You quip. Gojo laughs.

“Change in management,”

You laugh a real laugh at that, and Gojo watches you turn the situation over again and again.

“Well. Thank you. Might as well look through the rest of it, huh?”

“Take your time,” Gojo says, before checking the digital clock on his wall “I need to go get something from the store. Just leave the empty stuff next to the trash and I’ll take it out tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll start on dinner. See you, Gojo.”

“Yeah. See you” )

If you notice all the clothes come in shades of blue, you’re smart enough not to say anything.

The third day passes in a blur. Nothing notable, but he’s content. You wear the clothes Gojo bought you and he’s careful not to stare while you know. He takes it upon himself only to do it when he knows you’re asleep, his nightly routine staring over the bare inches of your body in a dark room being a reprieve of his other desires.

On the fourth day, he doesn’t have the restraint not to touch you. Too many days in the same room and he wants access to everything already. He hates being patient more than he thought, but there’s a method to this - he has to remind himself.

Like taking out his aggression, he decides he needs more relief. Something to scratch the itch. With his infinity, you can’t feel his fingers ghosting over your legs. He checks if you’re wearing the other stuff he bought, settled at the bottom of the box. Not lingerie, but panties. Plain and cottony - white over your cunt as you sleep with your leg hiked up. Gojo knows you can’t feel him now, but part of him wants you too. He wants to know why you’re wearing them despite yourself. Gojo realizes too late that he’s interested in your misery just as much as he is everything else, and so far - that discovery has made everything all the more difficult.

On the fifth day, things proceed the same. There’s a routine you’ve settled into together despite the time limit on it. That night over dinner, you and Gojo spend time together. There’s not really much to do - it’s a Friday. It’s the first time neither of you are completely occupied with any one task.

You get to talking like that. On the fifth day, Gojo gets as close to opening up as he’s ever gotten in his life. Part of him isn’t sure why he does it. He thinks he’s seeking confirmation for something, but what that could be is lost on him.

(“So, you’re the only person left in your clan?” You ask, half-way through a glass of tea he’s sure has gone cold by now. The T.V. is on but muted. Gojo looks at you in the low lights, fighting his own sleep.

“Mhm. Technically, I’m the sole heir.” He replies.

“...Is it okay to ask what happened?”

Gojo laughs at you. You really can’t help your curiosity, but he still finds it amusing.

“It’s not a pretty story,” Gojo says honestly.

“That’s okay,” You say, voice filled with an air of innocence that Gojo has a hard time wrapping his head around.

“Most of them were wiped out. We had a lot of enemies, me included. A lot of them are dead, the remaining are somewhere far-away and have no combat abilities.”

“You included?” You pick up on, naturally. Gojo nods and smiles a little.

“Once I inherited my technique it was pretty commonplace. I went through a lot of assassination attempts,” He yawns in between, because this is an old, boring story “It took a lot of time for me to get strong enough to where I am now. But I got there eventually.”

“You say that so easily,”

Gojo peers at the frown on your face and laughs quietly to himself.

“It was a long time ago, now. I never really had a lot to mourn, except for when I was a teenager. I’m used to it.”

For a long time, you remain completely silent. Gojo almost thinks you’re going to cry. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s proof of something. Of his ambivalence towards the idea of sympathy. Sure, it’s meaningless now for someone to feel bad for him. It’s a pointless endeavor, because Gojo is a selfish dick and the strongest - and he knows both of those things intimately. He accepts them as part of himself in the same way, he doesn’t know what he’s like without being frivolous. Without being the strongest. The line between misery and character is paper thin and Gojo hasn’t known it since he was born.

It’s especially pointless for you to feel bad for him, because he’s going to ruin that very innocence you hold in your heart before the week is over. He’s going to do it with purpose and conviction. He won’t feel remorseful about it at all.

There’s an irony to it. A dramatic irony that brings him closer to Godliness than he’s ever really been. Because Gojo knows that this conversation is confirmation that he needs you, just as much as he knows he’ll do anything to have you even if it means you can no longer look at him like this.

He wonders how long you’ll hold sympathy for him. He decides for now, there’s no reason to not lean into it. It makes him happy that you care enough to feel sad. Even if it’s pointless. He doesn’t remember the last time someone did.

Maybe when he was 17.

“You look like you’re gonna cry.” He says lightheartedly. Sincere in a way he hasn’t been in very well over 10 years. You sniffle.

“How are you not crying?”

“I never cry.” Gojo says smoothly, not blinking “I’m a heartless bastard.”

“That’s not true.” You say, almost exclaim, turning yourself to look at him so seriously. It’s cute, he must admit, that you’re so sure on his character “You’re not heartless,”

“But I am a bastard,” He clarifies, mischievous. And you pout, less eager to correct him on that

“...You’re not heartless. Clearly.” You say again. Gojo laughs, a real laugh. He can feel it preemptively, how much he’ll cherish every minute of this conversation. He hums.

“Oho, you almost sound like you’re defending me.”

“From yourself, I guess. I know you’re not heartless,” You say, with some kind of clarity that you have him figured out. Maybe you do. It’s a little shocking. It’s not usually how this goes “You’re…weird. But you care”

“That’s true,” Because it is, and Gojo has no reason to lie to you right now. “More than that, I’m hung up on the idea of the future.”

“Isn’t it usually being hung-up on the past?”

“Right? Usually, that’d be the case,” Gojo says, unsure of what to express “But the past is the past. I can’t go back to it. My technique is infinity. It means I can see infinite realities.”

You sound like the winds been knocked out of you “That’s terrifying,”

“It is. But you know, even in those realities, the past is the past. There are places where the past hasn’t happened. But it can’t be changed. It becomes part of infinity, when events occur. The only thing that can be changed is the future,” Gojo explains, though he leaves out so many intricacies “There’s a future I want to see. I’d like if my students could see it too,”

“Because of your friend, right?”

Gojo smiles.

“Because of my friend. And for less selfless reasons.”

“Like?” You ask, curious.

“I like being able to do whatever I want, without consequences. Being strong lets me do that. For now it’s up to me, but eventually, I can raise strong comrades.”

You’re silent for a while, again.

“Seems lonely,” You say, simply. Easily. It’s true, and he knows that. It’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you’ve said it with little regard for anything. Almost mindlessly, a natural response to such a sad story.

Gojo feels it again. Those stifling, pesky emotions that linger in the cavity of his ribs. He can’t bring himself to be honest, because when does he ever? But he does smile again, a little more melancholy than usual. You notice, certainly, but you have the courtesy not to say a word.

“You think so?” Gojo says, passive and wilfully ignorant “Does it make you wanna hug and console me?”

He offers it sarcastically, but you don’t tear your eyes away from him. It’s almost enough to shake him. Almost.

“...A little? You feel like a sad dog in the rain.” You say, too honestly.

“Jeez. Maybe you just miss Pokupan. Thinking about another man right in front of me. I can’t believe I’m the other woman,” He says, with a faux pout.

You laugh, though it’s laced with sympathy. Gojo can tell you want to fuss. That you want to admonish him for being the way he is, and he’s almost willing to let you. That’s just the thing.

You see Gojo as human, still.

Gojo Satoru isn’t God. But he isn’t human either. If you want to know how God lives, asking Gojo is always viable. But you shouldn’t mistake false omnipotence for forgiveness, like you are now. You see Gojo for all of his humanity, but you're blind to his divinely violent tendencies. You will be until it’s too late.

So, Gojo doesn’t think you need to comfort him how you’re thinking you should. Gojo wants you to depend on him. Because coveting you is an affair distinctly inhuman and crueler than even the heavens could be and he believes that you’re owed to him.

Gojo wants to protect this version of you, even at the sake of corrupting it. He doesn’t want to let you go ever, for any reason. And he wont.

He turns the heat up gently. You’re none-the-wiser. The night swallows you both, but Gojo will remain untouched. He’ll hold you when it inevitably spits you back out. When reality washes into you, you should’ve trusted your gut after all.

For now, he smiles at you.

“If it’s any consolation, I’d be very sad if you disappeared.” Which Gojo hopes you can interpret without his interference. It seems like you do, because you smile to yourself.

“Me too,” You reply. Gojo knows he’s going to ruin you. “I’d be really sad if you disappeared, Gojo. So, don’t, okay?”

And if Gojo were an honest person, or a good one - he’d tell you you’re the last person who should worry about missing him. That you’ll be seeing him for a long time.

But he’s neither, just like he’s not god or man. He lightens his tone and holds out his pinky, which you link with his.

“Scouts honor,”

When he’s ready to look away, you pull a bare thread from Gojo’s clothes. Frowning at him, as you dust away the fabric with your hand. He stares at you.

“What was that?”

“You had a thread loose,” You say simply, unconcerned with anything “I just pulled it off.”

Gojo stares.

“Yeah. Thanks.”)

The sixth day passes quickly. Gojo doesn’t think there’s anything worthy of saying. By then the routine is so practiced and so constant. The sixth day passes like a shadow in the night, disappearing through the woods before morning comes. A stepping stone.

Today is the 7th day.

On the 7th day, things are different. The same but different as they so often are. You don’t have work today, so you do what you’ve been doing. You and Gojo work in proximity to each other, share meals, and idly watch T.V.

Night falls on the 7th day.

Gojo wants to take part in the act of creation, as the sun dips below the horizon. He’d set this in motion when the week started and now that it’s here - the anticipation is too much to bear. When Gojo Satoru sets himself out to be conqueror, the universe trembles at the sight of him. There’s no sound at all. The night reeks of death, in Gojo’s presence it trembles. Too fearsome to speak.

Night falls today. Gojo starts his usual routine with less caution than he’s had the previous six. Where he usually bides his time and enters the room carefully - today he merely enters. He places his hand on the silver handle and pushes it open. A breath rushes from his lungs, adrenaline entering his system as he steps inside. His room has felt so unfamiliar to him lately, but like this - a sense of serenity washes over him.

He stares at you. With his Six Eyes, with vision clear as ever, Gojo looks onto you as you are now. You can never reconstruct a flower crushed under steel boots. You’re not mud or earth, not adaptable like the sea. From the moment he’s met you - Gojo has known you to be so much like a flower. Gojo has never wanted to take the petals off of something so much in his life.

And Gojo is in this instance, a natural disaster ready to pluck the root of you up from the ground. He’ll pick you up in a storm but return you to his feet. There’s a method to this. Gojo stares at your silhouette wrapped and tangled in his sheets, body so loosely dressed. Your visible figure rests easy.

The night is glorious and silent. Gojo watches on in some cross of indifference and utter starvation. He blinks, leans on the wall.

Like a call from fate, you start to stir awake.

Gojo moves towards you. He decides it might be easier just to join you in bed, so he gently works himself into the sheets.. He creeps towards you slowly, and re-familiarizes himself with the feeling of his bed. It’d be lost on him for a week, but your presence in it makes it feel especially brand new. The bed dips under his weight, creaking. You shift lethargically, turning your head to look at Gojo.

You look startled once you realize. For the first time in your entire relationship, it seems to dawn on you that something is wrong. Just a minute too late. He gives you a second to wake up. Your breath hitches, a stifled gasp as you greet Gojo’s expression.

The hunger in his stomach is gnawing. Gojo feels like he’s starving. He thinks doing this will only half-way relieve the urge. This part of Gojo is inhuman as the rest of him.

Gojo’s presence suffocates you so much in the moment, you can only barely open your lips to say your next words.

“What are you doing here?” You sound still innocent. Gojo smiles briefly, under the glow of the moon. He can see your expression clearly. Sleep in your vision. A sheerness to your skin that comes with rest. Your bags are packed, and your things are cleared from his bathroom. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought.

He knows he shouldn’t think it, but some part of him is vindicated. You’re leaving him today and Gojo finds abandonment to be the highest betrayal of them all. So, he’s vindicated. He licks his teeth, usual mirth coming back to him.

Then he talks, his voice tender.

“Getting my debts repaid,” And he means it, more than he’s ever meant anything he’s said “You owe me one, remember?”

It dawns on you. Realization flickers in your eyes before it twists into fear. Gojo wants to encourage it. A curse starts to form, like tendrils around you. You’ll leave it here when you’re gone in the morning and Gojo will have a piece of you left with him.

“W-what are you…? What do you mean?”

He’s shrill, almost, leaning close to you. His sudden proximity makes you freeze. You know better, know so clearly it stops you from running. Gojo is tempted to see if you’ll do it. If you’ll run or if you’ll thrash or if you’ll fight. He’s not particularly sadistic, but he likes you - and he’s curious to know what your reaction will be to something like this.

He eases you into it, He brushes his knuckles over your cheek as your heart sky-rockets like you’re being hunted. Gojo thinks he ought to be gentle with you. Regardless of how this is happening, it’s your first time together. Your fingers tremble as you reach up to grab his wrist. It seems like you’re trying hard to pull him off, and wiggle away from his grip. You ready yourself to give him push back and Gojo times it so that it seems like you’ll be able to break free.

But Gojo is strong. Stronger than you by a lot, and you know that by now. When he finds that you’re trying to escape him, he’s quick to grab your wrists with his hands. They both fit perfectly in his palms. He pulls them up over your head and your eyes widen as you feel his grip - near bruising (though he is trying so hard to be gentle) on your body. He stares down at you.

You look so frightened.

“Wh-what are you..?”

“You owe me one for letting you stay here, right?” He asks enthusiastically, licking his teeth. Your eyes widen “I’ll take this as compensation, okay? It’s a good deal for us both I think,”

“I don’t,” You squirm underneath him “I don’t—I,”

“Shh,” He quiets you, humming softly “Don’t overcomplicate it. Just wanna see you,”

Gojo watches you turn it over in your head. He was wondering about this. What’d you do in these circumstances. If you’d act like you always do, pleasant and pliable trying to do what's best. Damage control for what's coming.

Gojo pulls his hands away to undress you and yours fly to his shoulder blades. You heave as you push, mumbling something about how he doesn’t need to do this. Your expression is grief-stricken. Gojo soothes you.

“You can bite, scratch, kick, scream - whatever works,” Gojo says, communicating his affection as best he can. He drives his hands under your shirt, laying his palm flat over the skin of your stomach. He runs his thumbs over your sides, committing every inch of you to memory. Without his infinity, Gojo feels every part of you “It’s not gonna hurt me,”

You look like you’re at a loss for words. He gives you a warm grin.

“Maybe we’re going about this all wrong,” Gojo says after some thought “Is this your first time?”

You whimper, nodding meekly. Gojo groans against your skin. You flinch.

“Fuck, course it is. Shoulda known. Such a sheltered girl like you,” He adds the last part with a hint of condescension, watching your face curl up into a frown.

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing you know,” Gojo is careful as he pulls your shirt higher and higher. Your breath is being held, afraid of what’ll happen if you let g.o “We’re tied together like this. Isn’t that nice?”

“Gojo,” You say, swallowing something. Words that threaten to bubble up that you can’t find the strength to say. You’re not wearing anything underneath and Gojo feels a chill in his spine “Please,”

“Not wearing a thing even though you’ve been sleeping at a man's house all week,” He reprimands. He lets the material sit over the swell of your chest, just under your neck where it stays. He can see the outline of your tits clearly now, just enough light from the open window to illuminate your skin. Your nipples are hard, heaving. Gojo can hear your little heartbeat thump against your ribs “I’m not telling you off you know? I’m glad you trust me. Great job, on that really. But you really should be more careful.”

“Gojo,” You plead again, throaty. The sound goes through his system, sends blood rushing to his cock.

“Satoru,” He insists on, knowing it will take more than that to convince him “I’ll try and listen to your requests if you say Satoru,”

He doesn’t promise to stop, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to follow up on it. Still, with the level of desperation you show - Gojo thinks it’s worth it to gain something out of. You follow up his request almost instantly, lips wrapping around the syllables with a weak breath.

“S-Satoru,”

He gestures to take your shirt off. You’ve become more pliable, if only a little, letting Gojo see all of you completely bare as he tosses his clothes somewhere onto the floor. Shameless in viewing you, your instincts kick in to cover your chest. He clicks his teeth, pushing your wrists together again over your head.

“That won’t do,” He coos at you softly “I wanna see you. All of you,”

You hiccup, sobbing, Gojo reaches his palms towards your breasts, cupping them gently. Your nipples rub against his palms and he groans feeling how soft you are.

“So pretty,” He admires you. Means it. Gojo lets his gaze catch on the edges and curves of you with enthusiasm. Your chest is sensitive to his touch, thumb and forefinger tweaking and teasing your nipples as you remain underneath him obediently. Your eyes look so watery, soft like lilies in freshwater “So cute,”

“Satoru, please, I don’t—don’t want—”

“So ungrateful,” He tsks. He smacks your chest lightly, enough to make you squeal “That’s the only request I can’t listen to,”

You hiccup, looking away. Gojo hums as he hovers over you, seated over your figure. He pulls his mask off from his eyes, material falling into his fingers. Grabbing your wrists with his palms, he wraps the material around them - tight enough to keep you but with enough room so it doesn’t hurt. He places your hands over your head gently, kissing your covered wrists.

“Don’t squirm too much, ‘kay? Stay like that. I’ll make you feel good.”

“I don’t,”

“Hey,” This time he’s stern, and you slink back into yourself. It’s the first time he’s had to use this tone on you and hopefully the last “What’d I say? You owe me this much, don’t you think? After everything I’ve done for you, the least you can do is not turn me away. It’s not like I wanna do anything bad with you, y’know”

A pang of guilt passes through you. You stop squirming. Gojo keens, baring his teeth as he smiles.

“Good girl.” He dips his head to kiss the place under your ear, where your neck meets your jaw. He scrapes his teeth on the skin so you can feel his teeth over your pulse “You learn quick.”

You keep your arms over your head like he’s asked, hesitant and stiff. Gojo can work with that at least. He leans towards you, tipping your jaw so you’re forced to look at him. Tear-eyed and whimpering, a shudder passes through him.

“So pretty,” He mumbles. He leans forward, presses his lips to yours - hand resting on the base of your neck. You make a noise of indignance but Gojo keeps you there. He eases you into obedience, forcing his tongue in your mouth, grazing the inside of your mouth.

He swallows every sound you make. Distress and frustration and reluctance lend themselves to giving in easily. Your body is sensitive to touch, a trail of goosebumps where his hands touch you. On your waist, trying to ease you into it.

He pulls away from you, a string of saliva connecting you.

“First kiss?” He asks. You shy away, clamping your mouth shut. Gojo chuckles, teeth nipping at you “Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You remain silent, so Gojo fills the space.

“Mm,” Gojo presses kisses down the curve of your jaw, all the way down your neck where he stops and bites - hard enough for something to be there tomorrow. He undresses the rest of you. You try to resist this time too, but Gojo doesn’t bother putting up a show. It’s easy to overpower you. He tugs your shorts off with your panties and tosses them somewhere. Unceremonious and uncharacteristically impatient.

He takes his time now that you’re all naked. It’s thrilling to watch distress fill your lungs, a ballooned breath and muffled protest. Gojo sucks hickies into your bare skin. It’s only fair to give you something to look at while you’re departed. Your blood rushes, capillaries breaking under the hardness of his incisors - ridges pushed against your delicate skin. He licks the bruises afterwards, kisses them tenderly.

“Gonna be a little sore for a while,” He says warmly. You’ve hit the stage of grief where you’re angry and resilient again but one look from Gojo is enough to make you slink back “Might as well enjoy yourself.”

Despair flashes in your expression.

“I mean it, you know.” He offers, stating it like he’s trying to appease you “You should relax a little, let it roll off your shoulders.”

It seems like you register that Gojo is teasing you. He does mean it, about thinking you should enjoy it. Everything else is deliberate and you know as much. It’s good you’re starting to understand him a little better.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You ask hoarsely. Gojo is surprised by your question.

“Ah, it’s a secret, so you can’t tell,” He starts. He squeezes the fat of your chest in his palms, silver tongued and playful “I like things that I can keep.”

A flash of true horror washes over you and you almost go ragged in realization. Weakened in your resolve once glimmering so brightly, Gojo takes the opportunity to please. He kisses down your sternum, runs his hands across the sides of your chest. He presses this thumb against your hardened nipples, rubbing lightly. Gojo takes them into his mouth. He bites then licks like he licks a wound

It pleases him immensely when you respond. When you gasp in a helpless sort of way and go to cover your mouth in shame. A sense of delight washes over his body and he does it again and again. He teases, changes from sucking harshly to lapping oh-so gently on the skin. Over and over until your voice can longer be contained no matter how hard you try - sharp gasps and cries of desire filling the air.

When he thinks you’re worked up enough, he slots himself against you and nudges your legs apart. He can feel the heat from your bare skin against his body, clothed. How you tremble underneath him. He eases his hand down gently, fingers trailing down to your pussy.

You hiccup. A sob of defiance stifled with obvious arousal, forced from you so easily. Gojo laughs.

“You don’t wanna?” He pricks, intentionally. Gojo lets his middle finger ease along your slit, dragging his digits up and through - catching on your achy clit “Are you sure?”

It’s torture for you. Of course it is. A pretty, sheltered little thing. It’s your first time with something like this and he’s sure all this is too much for you. Even if you tell yourself you don’t want it, your body can’t refuse him. You can’t either, try as you might. That’s why your legs are spread and why you’re practically dripping for him. Gojo thinks of it as admission. Your clit is hard underneath the pad of his middle finger, as he rubs too light and too gently.

You cry out, pitchy and broken. Gojo laughs.

“You need it here,” He punctuates, adding enough pressure that you gasp “Need me to touch you here, hm?”

You shake your head at first. Gojo tucks himself against your chest, sucking the skin gently.

“Be more honest.” He encourages a mockery as he so barely presses his finger inside of you - threatening to touch but never doing it “What do you want?”

“Don’t, I don’t.” You say, or you try.

“Liar,” He snips playfully against your clavicle “Your pretty little pussy is dripping wet and you want me to believe that?”

Gojo smacks your cunt softly. Once, then twice, then three times for good measure as you cry.

“C’mon,” He encourages meanly “Tell me what you really want.”

It’s a sick little mind game that Gojo is having too much fun playing with you.

“P-please,” You stutter, so unbelievably broken with so little done to you at all. Gojo will take all of you at a later time. When you’re thoroughly pliable and broken and so beautiful all for him “Please.”

So dependent like Gojo always thinks you should be.

“Please what, hm? What are you asking for?”

You swallow thickly. All your dread and doubt and disbelief gone as a sense of real and true need ignites within you. Of course this is too much for you. Gojo overwhelmed you like this on purpose. The resentment of wanting despite it all, despite how miserable you are makes for something so tragically Gojo’s. Whatever you have in your heart will always be for him. Good or bad, ugly or beautiful - like this you are all his and so perfectly too. It’s titillating, the sensation of control that wisps around him. It strikes him like a hammer on hot iron.

Gojo wants you to say it. Wants your selfless little heart to beg for his mercy this once. You’ll understand some time later, that this is how Gojo loves. Selfish and twisted. Cruel. Intimate beyond mortal comprehension. All of him just for you, just like this.

Strangely, it's perfect. Gojo teases you some more. Toys with your clit and feels a pool of arousal rush and drip from your sore cunt. He hits it with the palm of his hands as you try to form the words. You tremble in his arms, a vestige of your will to resist.

You want to resist so badly, he can tell. But it hurts now to leave it alone and you want it despite yourself. It makes you so frustrated you cry. Limp, crystal tears down your face that Gojo licks up nearly immediately. Salty and bitter. Gojo kisses the apples of your cheek, nose nudging your skin.

“So cute when you give up.” Gojo praises sincerely. You sob somewhere deep inside of your “Be good and be honest. I’ll reward you, hm? How’s that?”

Gojo can feel the moment you give in completely. When acceptance settles over your hazy and contorted mind. You let the tides take you, curling into yourself. A sound like you’re in pain even though you’re not hurt.

“Please touch me.” You whisper, hoarse and defeated. Gojo laughs airy, peppering your face with kisses. You wince.

“Good girl.” He coos, dipping his fingers down lower and lower. Heel of his palms pressed into your swollen, needy clit “That’s all you had to do. Easy, right?”

You scowl at him (you try too).

“Open your legs, baby,”

You listen this time, opening your legs wide enough for him to touch. Your pussy is so wet for him. Sticky and soft like you’ll fall apart, Gojo thinks it feels divine, wants to squeeze and grope and touch until you’re disintegrated. He likes feeling you like this. Vocal chords strung tight, all the noises throaty and gone. You throb against him like you’re begging. Gojo doesn’t stand to let you acclimate, flipping between three fingers in a gentle rub to a soft and well-practiced spank.

Only when your words start to come out t0gether, like you’re spitting them out because they fill your mouth too quick - does Gojo bless you with any mercy. He lets his hands sink lower, deeper - until his middle finger brushes your twitching hole. Your breath hitches, and the hands once stuck to your side, reach for Gojo’s hard to hold.

He licks his teeth, some unspoken feeling sending an bullet through him as he feels your body resist. Needy thing you are and so untouched that even the point of your middle finger makes your breath slower. You’re wet enough he doesn’t need anything else to aid him. He pushes in slow, slow, slow - painstakingly carefully as your wetness envelops you.

Because he intends to cherish you in his own way, he resists the urge he feels to flip you right over and take you. He’s being kind, and you’ll realize it later - when you’ve adjusted to him a bit more and know when to pick your fights. If he didn’t think it’d ruin the set-up, he’d have flipped you on your back just feeling. Fucked you without any consideration, just to feel your pussy around him in a vice grip.

It’s all he can picture, but he shows restraint. He’ll fuck himself off on you when you’re sleeping maybe, just to scratch the urge. You might pass out before then.

He comes back to you like that, a promise to himself to give the relief he needs with the body he finds oh-so tempting. He pushes his perversion aside to touch you. You let out a little sound every time he fucks himself deeper, gets his middle finger down to the first bend the all the way to the knuckle.

When he thinks you’re adjusted - ready for more, he gives it to you without making you plead. He uses his ring finger this time - his longest ones and feels you stretch around. He groans, deep and appreciative, as he feels how tight you are. You preen, squeeze your thighs together and call his name

“Oh, Satoru, its.”

He shushes you before busying himself with tasting your skin. Closes his mouth around one of your tits as he repeats the process. In, in, in until he’s all the way to his knuckles. Fucks you till it’s easy, till you’re wanting more.

If he were more merciful, a good man or a better one - he’d stop here. He doesn’t though. A third finger has your eyes widening. You gasp. Gojo kisses your face again and again.

“Easy, easy,” He coos, voice coarse but encouraging “It’s a good exercise for the future.”

You don’t register the words and Gojo doesn’t expect you to. Even still, he thinks giving you the heads up is quite nice.

Three fingers proves to be more than enough. It pushes you to an edge he has seen before. He fucks you with three. Your mouth falls open, slack jawed. Gojo curls his fingers. He rubs up like he’s motioning for you to come here, deep enough until he feels it. That spongy spot inside of you, apparent through the sounds you start to make as he touches it.

He hits something of a stride like that, finger fucking you with pressure on your clit and his mouth on your skin. Gojo takes to watching you once he knows he’s getting you to that edge. Your body stiffens underneath him, breathing going noticeably shallow. Mouth wobbly, lower lip trembling. He can tell you’re feeling it, just as much as you’re resisting it. Gojo coaxes you by whispering against your skin.

“C’mon,” He hums, nudging his nose to your neck “You wanna cum don’t you? I can tell you. You too scared? Need me to help you.”

You whimper “Aah, aah,” Gojo can feel you pulse. Can feel your insides tighten. He’s doing it on purpose, tipping you just over the edge. He wants to hear you beg. Wants to know what it sounds like when you beg for him. He fucks into you slowly, until you’re no longer able to put on a show of being composed.

“S-sato—oh, please, oh—please m-make me,”

“Want me to making you cum? Say it. Say, ‘Satoru, please make me cum,’ can you do that?”

A bitter sob leaves your lips and Gojo can’t think straight. It strains you.

“S-satoru, pleasemakemecum—please.”

Gojo grins. “Of course I can,” He quickens his pace enough to make you feel it. Your eyes shoot open before screwing closed again “All you had to do was ask me.”

He watches you intently. How you fall apart under his fingers, delirious whimpers of no, no, no - even though you begged so sweetly a minute ago. He hums as he feels the walls of your pussy start to tremble, a soft squelching sound hastened now. You say something he can’t decipher, words too jumbled for him to make sense. Gojo stares hard. Lets the infinity bleed away so he can feel you just like this, feel you cum on his fingers despite everything.

He feels giddy to the point he’s sick with it, moaning as your hands grip at the roots of his hair. He kisses your breast tenderly, just over the latest lovemark.

“Don’t hate me too much, kay,” Gojo says, whispering, means it so you carry it with you because he can feel the resentment nudged so deep into your heart by now “Come on. Cum for me, sweet girl. Want you to feel so good.”

And so you do. You cry, scream - but the noise amounts to nothing. A cosmic thing, like you’ve been struck by a comet. Gojo fingers you through it, absolutely delighted at the hot rush of liquid that comes pouring out of you. Your first orgasm from him and you’re squirting all over his fucking wrists, soaking his sheets and his arms and his PJ’s with your back curved in a beautiful arch. You break apart in an almost violent way, like the pleasure’s vicious. It tears into you and you succumb with a whimper.

Gojo shushes you as you break down finally into a teeny, tiny sob. You must be exhausted because you don’t pull away when he comforts you, despite the little angry why, why, why that you whisper. You hit his chest softly. He kisses your forehead and listens as your breathing goes still and you fall asleep in a heart-beart, still curled up into his bed and too tired to run away or go anywhere.

He stays with you like that, relishing in the warmth of your body until you’re deep asleep. He flips you onto the side of the bed that isn’t wet, and presses a kiss to your forehead before moving out of the sheets. .

When he stands to his feet, it’s to collect the curse that’s gathered itself on the foot of the bed. It manifests as a white snake with blue-eyes. Gojo finds himself amused. Of course the curse you’ve made is pretty. Gojo grabs it by the neck, watching it as it pries its mouth open and bares his fangs at him. He grins, pricking himself on the teeth to see if it makes him bleed.

It hisses loudly before wrapping itself around Gojo’s arm. It doesn’t take any effort to subjugate it, sensing his power it stills with some effort. Gojo tilts his head as he walks out of the room, glancing at you before turning his head back at the snake.

“Better warm up to me,” He whispers in the dark, a contentment to his words “You won’t be seeing your mama for a while,”

—

Communication stills.

Radio silence, more like - a busy bunch of messages deftly still. Suddenly, a raging storm of grief and anger disappears. The morning after Gojo assaults you, he wakes up to see you off like nothings happened.

He mostly does this because he wants to see what you’ll do.

You spend the morning perplexed and confused. You eat breakfast with him. You sit at the table, contemplative and silent and Gojo chats away at you idly. About the news and the weather and the classes he has today. You chew your food but don’t taste. You listen but your replies are short and stilted - out of touch.

Gojo learns that when something bad happens to you, you respond to it by detaching yourself. Though yesterday you were hot and fiery, the day after you seem to be mourning. Your grieving process starts early, and Gojo thinks rather amused—that you remind him a lot of himself.

He thinks you’re a little closer now that you understand the apathy of losing something that can never come back. And once this whole thing is over, once you find yourself back here - he’ll tell you all about it. You get it now right? It’s painful to feel like you can never be the same.

They say that mankind was fashioned from their Lord. Gojo supposes he’s made you in his image. You look a little empty, and though you’re both so different - you can become close by having the same wound. You can understand him a little more this way, all while retaining your sense of resilience.

What is mankind not known for if not perseverance? Of course he knows, once you recover from your grief, you’ll return to your usual spitfire. He’s counting on it, counting on you to fight and run. Escape from him and never come back.

But that cat and mouse game is more than okay. Gojo isn’t looking for your obedience, really. You’re too defiant of a character. Gojo thinks it’d be pointless if you’d just stayed the same.

You need to have hope to stay the way you are. Thus, Gojo doesn’t plan to rob you of it. He figures it’s best to give you breathing room. After all, he has full confidence in his ability to find you. He could hear the rhythm of your heart a continent away and chase it down without thinking twice. But it’s better if you’re able to show him some resistance. He thinks of it like a compromise. That sort of thing is typical for married folks, he thinks. He gives and you take.

Eventually, you might realize that the endeavor of running away is fruitless. Maybe you’ll be clever enough to recognize that it’s not that you’re succeeding, but that Gojo is letting you. You’re definitely smart enough to do so early, but just stubborn enough to believe that there’s hope in spite of that. If you try hard enough, persevere a little more, etc.

Gojo likes this part of you. Always will. You always put your best in everything and this is his own way of nurturing it.

It’d be a shame to take that from you. Gojo has remained out of your sight for the time being to try and reinstate it. While he raises the curse up in his apartment, he watches you through windows and flitters into your bedroom to peer at you before disappearing again. He makes sure that you can’t sense him or that he’s gone before you can. The more ease you feel, the easier everything else will go.

Feeding the curse you’ve left behind in his house has been taking most of its time. It’s obedient to him since he’s strong, and it’s big now. Longer and wider and more sinister looking (he feels a weird affection for it, maybe just because it’s from you), more hostile. He’s been careful to maintain it. Too much feeding will make it overgrown.

It’s currently on Gojo’s floor, on a dog bed like a disobedient pet - all in a single coil. He has to be careful not to endanger you by making it too strong or giving it too much range. It’s just meant to be a showpiece - a prop at best and a scraped knee at worst.

He’s been building it up for a long time. Then, though, it wasn’t such a clear desire. He figured sewing seeds of fear in you would benefit you in a different way. But that’s fine. The means don’t matter as much as the ends and in doing so - he’s made this all sort of seamless.

It’s not a complicated plan, ultimately. He’ll tell the curse to let loose, freak you out a little, and eventually - you’ll call the only person you know who knows how to handle it. Gojo will save you, and when you’re finally caught in his arms, you’ll have a little reunion amongst yourselves. He’ll reprimand you (but only lightly) and you’ll thrash (but only for a little while) and then he’ll keep you by his side again.

Except this time he won’t be so quick to let go. He’s sure you’ll protest (and be all gung-ho about it). He’ll feign cruelty and push you to the edge. Whatever response you do have, he’s thought of a way to reply.

A way to tend to it.

Like any relationship, things take time. He’s not expecting this to settle right away - but he’s confident eventually it’ll work out how he wants too. Gojo can make that happen as long as you’re within view.

He watches you through the window as you come in from your classes. You’re dressed up today despite the chilly weather - a blouse and nice pants with bangles on your wrist. He wonders what the occasion is given the time of year. Your bag is hanging loosely off of your shoulder - having only just returned.

A sense of warmth spreads through him as he peers at you, a smile on his face. He really does like looking at you quite a bit.

The curse hisses at the sense of your presence and Gojo waves a hand at it to keep it quiet.

“Calm down or I’ll exercise you right away,” Gojo says coldly. It retracts itself. “I’m getting impatient, too, you know? It’s been a long time.” He says wistfully.

He keeps looking until you’ve effectively disappeared from his sight. He listens for you outside of his door. The sound of the building buzzer, soft footsteps, and the slight jiggle and turn of keys before you’ve gone in - sound by a dull thump.

He leans against the wall near his door where he was listening, eyes up at the ceiling as he turns over his options. He should wait it out a little longer. Giving everything enough room to mellow out before it picks up again is an important part of the process.

But he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait. Plus, keeping this curse around is starting to be troublesome. He’d much prefer you back in his arms, in his bed - all back to that kind domestic fantasy that he’d been thinking about again for weeks.

He supposes there’s no right decision, in this case. Just what he wants to do, versus what he should do, and some kind of middle ground he’s been spending too long looking for.

He stands to his feet, no longer leaning on the wall before glancing at the curse from the corner of his eyes.

“Today seems like it’s too soon yet too far,” Gojo pauses between sentences, scratching his head woefully “But it should be okay, right?”

At 7pm, the curse slips underneath the door of his apartment into the hallway. Gojo sits comfortably in his living room, one leg crossed over the other with his phone in hand, a warm mug of tea cooling on his coffee table.

The news is playing. A general and loose sense of anticipation fills him as he pays attention to the newscaster. Another storm is going to hit and the temperatures are dropping to an impossible low. Officials recommend buying bottled water and keeping warm as it continues to blow out.

There’s a soft hiss as the muscled curse squeezes itself underneath the tight crack of his door. It’s unfortunate he can’t monitor it directly. Though the instructions ( and subsequently the consequences of disobedience) were made clear - curses are greedy as they are stupid. This one in particular seems to be self-aware enough not to try to go against Gojo’s word.

So, when the time comes he sits patiently and waits. Watches the news. His ears itch and his skin pricks as he listens for the first whisper of your voice. He wonders if you’ll scream. You didn’t when he thought you should’ve but maybe there's a reason for you to do so now.

The clock ticks away. It’s unceremonious. Gojo thinks to himself that maybe this entire thing is esoteric. Capturing you is a tragedy that he writes to himself and he’ll re-tell it to you all the time in different ways.

The clock ticks. Again and again, the monotony is starting to settle in. Time moves slower than you could imagine. Like trying to pipe honey into straw, thick and impossible.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

At 7:02, a dog barks outside. It sounds cagey, and it’s not Pokupan because Gojo knows what that mutt sounds like. Nor is it cosmic. It does sound desperate, though - like asking someone to be let in. And if Gojo didn’t have such a pressing matter to attend to, he’d go outside and do it himself. After all the wind is frosty and the air is unforgiving and winter devours things so slowly it's painful.

Gojo can’t abandon his task. It’s too important for him to stick his neck out for a being he doesn’t even know. He hopes briefly that it survives. That someone lets it in before it gets anymore violent (or desperate or willing)

At 7:03, he reaches for the tea on his coffee table to drink it. It’s still piping hot, but Gojo can swallow it with his infinity. He does for a reason he can’t name. It’s just a compulsion, inspired by the fact it will probably be too cold when he comes back for it. He thinks, instinctively, that he should cherish the warmth in the glass despite the barrier that prevents him from feeling it. Ultimately it’s still milk tea. It will still fill his stomach and taste vaguely sweet where he permits. He ought to drink it when it’s warm even if it’s just an illusion.

The clock ticks again, this time to 7:04 and Gojo regains a sense of bravado that’s riveting. There’s a commercial airing now for a new type of kitchen gadget, an airfryer with more settings than any one person knows what to do with. The advertiser is enthusiastic and loud. He wonders what happens when it switches to the next one. Do actors on set feel awkward when the cameras turn off? He knows a thing or two about performing, which is why he finds himself so curious.

At 7:05, the first whisper of your pleading filters through the hallways. Though Gojo figures he’s not meant to be able to hear it - because however vague it is, the sense of shame that it holds is hard to ignore. Despite his urge to run to you, Gojo is reminded of the fact he is teaching you a lesson and this is all a show for you and in a way for him too. There’s timings and cues and calls, so Gojo lets your first prayer get passed through the winter winds. He’s sure it gets dropped off somewhere in the snow.

The dog outside bares its teeth and barks louder than before.

At 7:06, the feelings of fear and negativity start to weasel their way into his apartment. Through cracks in the floorboards and the aeration in the spackle - he can feel it come through his door and penetrate his being like waves of wind. With no barrier and no filter, your fear is a familiar presence in his life. It comes to a crescendo as he leans his head back on the couch and blinks up at the ceiling. He’s pleased with it so far. It’s proving to be just right. All the months of delicate orchestration have culminated into such a lovely overture. A symphony of sobs. It enchants him like a bird song, or maybe the whistle of a blizzard.

He waits for it to die down. He waits for it to start back up again. He waits for the sniffling to become sobs and for the sobs to become demands and for the demands to go back to sniffles. He waits for the dog outside to be let in because he can hear the buzz of the gates all the way from his apartment.

When Gojo has had enough of waiting, it’s 7:15 sharp.

He stands to his feet and walks through his door with not so much as a look back. The T.V. is still playing where he fazes out and he leaves it because this will be quick and easy.

You’re right across the hall. The walk is short. The building moans like it’s dead.

He stands in front of your door and presses his ears to it and there’s some semblance of an altercation. Mostly the sounds of shattered glass.

If you were any more familiar with this world, you’d know the thing is stalling. It has harmful intent but Gojo’s presence is too risky. If you knew anything about anything, then you’d know you were never in any real danger and even calling Gojo’s name when you hate it so much now would be pointless.

But Gojo has done his due diligence in keeping you in the fateful dark.

So this part is easy. He reaches for the door but it’s locked, so he teleports.

When he enters, your apartment is in terrible shape. The curse itself notices his presence but does not stop to act. He stops to take a look around. He figures you’re cornered and holed up in your bedroom. A trembling figure in the corner praying for God to save you.

Your house is effectively thrashed like there’s been a robbery. He’ll have to make up something in the report. Officials will come, but they won’t question his word. All the glass is broken and scattered and everything is torn up. Papers ripped and fabric shredded.

(The stuff Gojo demanded not to be touched has remained that way. Even he’s not so much of a monster to ruin your students' keepsakes. He’s sure you’ll look relieved when he returns them to you later. How kind he is.)

He prepares himself like an actor might for a role. He thinks of the lines he’s practiced and the way things will play out. This simple, choreographed tragedy. A manifestation of your fears. Gojo thinks that he is probably good at becoming the thing people love yet resent.

He’s sure you and Suguru would have a lot to talk about in another life.

He checks the time on your digital clock, left unscatched in all the destruction.

At 7:18, Gojo phases himself into your bedroom like he’s only just arrived. He hears you gasp in a sharp fear that quickly breaks into a sob of relief. He glances at you where he stands. He’s never been in your room. Kind of a waste it’s happening like this.

The first thing he does is check if the door is locked. When he finds that it is, he laughs to himself but covers his face before he turns to you. You are exactly how he predicts. Something curled tightly into your fists, fearful and backed into a corner. He coos internally. At what he's done to you. How this has played out.

It wasn’t enough to break you a little. This part is necessary.

Like he starts most interrogations off, he asks you question.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, Satoru.” Your voice sounds shattered in such a way he finds it almost hard to stomach “Oh, it’s—Oh it’s you.”

“Happy to see me, huh?” He says, tilting his head. You close your eyes instead of replying.

“H-how’d you…?”

“I can feel cursed energy,” He says, and it’s not untrue “I felt something very strange in your apartment. It’s been a while.”

You still can’t find it in yourself to say anything. Maybe desperate, maybe afraid, maybe exhausted by your own paranoia - you relent.

“Yeah.” You say. Gojo can feel the curse grow impatient. It lets out a loud hiss and you gasp in fear.

“Hey, you didn’t answer. Are you okay?”

You stare at Gojo for a long time.

“I’m not hurt but,” You swallow thickly. Upon looking at you closely, you look exhausted. He feels a little sorry for you. He’ll let you rest for a while when you’re home “I’m s-scared.”

“You’re right to be scared,” Gojo says, and he means it a little. Not about the curse, but in general “It’s a pretty powerful class. A special grade, probably. You share cursed energy.”

You look agape as he relays this to you.

“Share…?”

Gojo gives you a look. He can feel the creature coming towards you door down, slinking across the wood slowly. A coy, soft smile appears on his expression as he reaches down for you. You flinch from his hands but Gojo doesn’t falter. He strokes his thumb across your cheeks, peering at your eyes and how they reflect light from the outside.

“It was made with your cursed energy,” Gojo explains very gently to you. You look at him in disbelief “Curses are negative emotions. So something like this isn’t uncommon. No idea how it got so strong, though. But that’s all your.”

He watches you closely as a wave of horror settles over you. A nauseous feeling that has you cupping your hand over your mouth like you’re ready to throw-up. He masks a smile, but he doesn’t condescend you. Not openly, at least. Not to the extent he would like too. He reprimands you like a teacher - a sensei and his beloved mentee.

“I told you didn’t I,” Gojo says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as you quell your own disgust at the thought “You have to be careful. And you can’t fight all by yourself, so you’re kind of helpless. What were you gonna do if I wasn’t around?”

You look like you’re going to cry. Gojo keeps going.

“You can’t call the police, you know. They can’t help you at all. Good for nothing bunch, really.” Gojo states, gesturing vaguely. He tugs his masks off of his eyes so you can get a better look at him “But you can rely on me if you need to. I’ll always protect you. Next time just give me a call, okay?”

It must dawn on you, just then, what exactly Gojo is doing. Or some extent of this is hitting you for the very first time. The look on your face is picture perfect. It’s exactly what he wanted. An understanding he’d be hoping for for so long it’s unbelievable.

“I’m the only one who can keep you safe, understand?” But he’s not really asking. You know that too “Can you nod your head and agree?” He pricks. You don’t hold back your tears but you don’t cry them either. You break down silently nd you nod.

Gojo reaches down and wipes them off for you.

“Don’t be so sad,” He says to you, and he means it because what a shame it would be to wallow too much on such a nice day. Winter is for warming up next to your loved ones, isn’t it? “I’ll protect you now.”

Left with no choice, you nod again slowly and clutch your pillow. Gojo kisses the crown of your head and leaves you to untangle your feelings.

Then, almost on cue, the curse itself bursts through the door. The wood breaks off with the hinges.

It’s really a weak thing. If Gojo was trying to keep his powers contained, he might’ve put up more of a fight as it lunges at him in your bedroom. It knocks over your things left and right but he’s mostly busy trying to muffle the noises so he doesn’t disturb the neighbors.

It’s as fast as a gust of wind as he strikes out, neck elongated and jaw as unhinged as far as it can go. This time, Gojo can feel the weight of its desire to kill. A rampant sense of bloodlust in it’s every action, Gojo dodges each attempt and swipe at him. He leaves a barrier over you temporarily so that it can do you no harm.

It doesn’t go for you either. He figures maybe it has some understanding of its own predicament. Desperate animals can be clever too. Perhaps those things have always been linked together.

But he figures a fair-ish fight is as much as Gojo can do to stave the thing off before he sends it off officially. Plus, he can feel you watching his back - like you’re trying to measure how strong he is. It’s a smart thing to do. You’re learning. It’s probably better to show you now, since there’s not much left to hide.

So this time, when the snake comes flying towards him - Gojo reaches his hands out. He uses his infinity to stop it in its place. A noise of anger leaves its mouth, a low hiss as it hits the wall in front of him. Wide blue eyes stare at Gojo, a predator with its fangs bared.

Gojo stares back, a predator with its fangs bared.

He uses a reversal of his Limitless, the infinite blue. The creature is pulled into him closely, crashing first into the space he’s created before disappearing into nothing but smoke and ash. It’s gone just as quickly as it happened. A curse so inferior, it can’t have been more than ten minutes to fight even with all the purposeful delays Gojo set in place to finish it off.

It’s gone now, the product of you and him. A weird part of him is sad. But now he has you, so he cuts his losses. Now there is only you and Gojo, and a ruined bedroom and broken apartment.

Gojo, who has no intention of enlightening you, turns his back to look at you.

“Don’t know how long it’ll be gone but,” He shrugs, rolling his shoulder and cracking his spine “But it’s gone for now. Some officials will be here in the morning but with the way this place is, you might wanna come back to stay with me for a while.”

This is all a formality. He’s sure you know too, but instead of turning away - you’re shivering figure wavers in the dark. You’re terrified enough to reach for his hand and hold it. You know what’s coming, but that knowing does nothing to save you. You were a victim to fate from the moment you met. Yet, you still look to him for comfort in safety because even knowing better, there isn’t anything you can do.

And it’s just like you, to want to trust and forgive him. To reach your hand out hesitantly and try. Everything is tangled up and you are terrified and Gojo Satoru loves you.

“Come on,” He says, encouraging you to get closer. He reaches over your bed to scoop you into his arms and you don’t do so much as protest “Let’s go home.”

Gojo brings you home quietly.

When he enters, the T.V. is still on. You are curled up in his arms. He has no idea how long you’ve been crying and about what in particular - but that’s okay. Tonight, to him, is something like an anniversary. Like any time before, he has no intentions to treat you roughly.

It’s a good night, he thinks. Even in the state you’re in, Gojo can only think of making it even more memorable. You’re an injured thing in his arms. A delicate bird with clipped wings, or a butterfly with a missing antenna. Without Gojo there to pick you up in all your broken pieces, you might’ve really fallen apart.

It’s reasonable enough. For someone like you, he’s sure tonight has been so scary. It makes him feel a little sorry for you. It makes him want to make it all worse before he makes it all better.

He can’t describe it, but there is something so right about seeing you like this.

All angry and resentful and volatile. All lonely and scared and saddened and somber. All Gojo’s forever, permanently through everything. He’s made you so completely in his image, something he’s always wanted to do. Maybe you’re a trial run, in its own right, of all the things Gojo will be able to do in the future. What he’s capable of creating with enough effort.

Gojo is gentle to you. Tender, as he carries you into the apartment. You help him turn off the T.V. and put the mug into the sink. He carries you too afterwards, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple, before pulling through the threshold of his bedroom.

Just like that, you find yourself again in Gojo’s bedroom like you were so many weeks prior. You’re weakened and exhausted, so willing that he is endeared. Like this, he hovers over you. Looks at your tearstained face and smiles so lovingly.

Regardless of everything that’s transpired, above all - this is a reunion of two lovers to Gojo Satoru. So in the midst of it, he wipes your tears and kisses your cheek and you don’t pull away. Now you’re so ruined you relish his comfort if only a little, and this time it’s perfect. It’s everything he’s always imagined.

He’ll give you hope and freedom and let you be. Eventually, you’ll come to realize you’ll always need him a little. And it doesn’t matter, does it? That he’s made it that way on his own. Because it’s true. It’s righteous and religious and godly. Gojo Satoru is not god, but he does understand the urge to make something that listens.

He kisses your soft cheeks and hums at you, nose nudging your skin.

“Still feel like crying?” He asks you. You blink up at him like you’re only just now realizing where you are. Some emotion overwhelms you, but ultimately you shake your head no. Gojo grins impishly.

“That’s good,” He says tenderly. He kisses your lips this time, and you kiss back. It catches him off guard but he doesn’t dislike it “You didn’t get hurt did you? And now we’re together again.”

This does seem to incite waterworks in you but you don’t look like you have the energy to cry. He doesn’t push you too much. Though it is fun seeing you like this, Gojo is grateful he has some time to cherish you.

“Scary world out there, y’know?” Gojo says between kisses. He adjusts you, your arms around his shoulders loosely “Hold onto me okay? I’ll make it all better.”

You whimper under your voice but don’t go to thrash. There’s something about you that feels limp. A spirit softened and dampened, like wet soil. Gojo is okay with anything as long as it’s you, and there is some part of this he likes too. How pliant you become under the weight of your fear, so tantalizing to Gojo he can’t help himself but kiss you. Riper than the fruit of Eden. Just as sweet.

He kisses you for longer than necessary. It’s intimate and hopeful. All tangled hands and pulling different parts of you up to his lips.The occasional press of his teeth in your skin, with his senses so high he can practically feel the blood rush through them. Your mouth is soft and warm, the breadth of mint on your tongue. He pushes his tongue past your lips but this time around, you don’t do anything to refuse it.

So accepting like this. Gojo thinks life with you will prove to be exciting.

He rests his hands on your waist and you don’t pull away from him. Such soft skin covered in a sheer layer of sweat. It’s making him dizzy to have you like this, to kiss you in his bed. Again, again, again. You belong here with him and nothing has ever been so true. The euphoria of everything is overwhelming. He can’t get enough of you. Even if in the moment he carved a spot into you forever and buried himself there, he cannot help but want to be spoiled by your lenience and affection. He can’t help himself but to possess all of you so even time cannot spoil iit.

Despite yourself, you touch Gojo back gently. Knowing you, it is a way to deal with the pain. You want to forgive him as much as you want him to save you. You hate him as much as you love him.

From the beginning, everything has been exactly like this. This was the end of all ends.

This is a lesson in divine truth.

You’ve made Gojo this way as much as he’s made you. If Gojo Satoru is to play as God, then he supposes you are much like an owner. Some part of you has made him love you unconditionally. A dog and his master. An animal with a love so violent it shakes windows. Gojo Satoru makes you love him through violent means, and like a dog left abandoned in the snow - your own empathy for his unconditional but broken love makes you protect him. It’s cyclical. It can never change because the universe has ordained it. Because everything Gojo touches is a divination from the heavens.

Where Suguru proves to be a lesson, you are the dues he is owed.

This is a lesson in divine truth.

More simply, Gojo Satoru loves you in his own way. Any loyal dog will chase its owner no matter how far they run. He lives for you, after all. He’s made you in his image. The difference between god and dog is nothing more than a matter of positioning.

You love him back in your own way. Because his character and his tragedy makes it so difficult to abandon him and your disposition will never allow you. You’ll hate and resent him. You’ll grieve and you’ll cry. You will want to turn your back but he will always come to save you. And who can love you so loyally as a dog undisciplined? Who can keep your sheltered being protected like a wild hound?

Spring was an innocent century ago. Winter is here. Gojo loves you.

“My birthday passed recently,” He tells you. You blink at him.

“Oh?”

“Can you guess what I want?”

You don’t do much more than nod. It’s not permissive. You just know better by now, and that too is not something Gojo finds himself pleased with.

“You don’t have to do any work,” He offers you as a reprieve, busying himself once again with undressing you. You’re still wearing the clothes he bought you all those weeks ago “Just don’t run away from me.”

If you notice how heavy the words are, you’re smart enough not to do anything. Even still, Gojo can’t tell if there's a purpose behind it. Perhaps you just know it instinctively not to.

He takes you apart carefully. Careful, thick fingers unbuttoning the front of your shirt. You’re wearing nothing underneath, and the sight of your bare skin is almost too much for him. The hickies have yet to heal, though now they’re yellow and softened by time. Gojo will have to leave more to bring back all the color to you.

He starts at your jaw this time, teeth against your earlobe. Heart in your hands, he knows your body a little better now.

And he takes his time with it this time too. Even slower than before. Even more consuming, even more adoring.

He laps his tongue against your soft skin and eats. Your skin is salty and sweet and Gojo can’t contain himself. He gropes you lightly, planing his palms over your shoulders and squeezing your breasts tight. He’s missed touching you more than he knows what to do with.

Even in being gentle, there’s little he can stop himself from trying to devour. You lay about him squirming as he undoes each and every part of you. He can’t pick which place to go and what thing to do first because he wants so wholly. It’s making his head spin to listen to your sweet and short whimpers. You spread yourself as you lay under him, hands pinned to your sides - demure and needy.

How different it is but the same. Something about how you’re clinging to him so desperately is making him feel sick with lust.

Instead of going any further, he pulls away from you momentarily. He puts his arms on your sides and flips you over till you’re on top of him

The sudden change in position leaves you gasping for air. Gojo gives you an amused grin as you fall forward - as he props himself up on pillows while you try and steady himself. He holds you close to him once you’re all set, face to face like this.

“Don’t run away from me,” He says, more seriously. You swallow. Gojo lets you up until you’re half-way over him. You’re so much weaker than him, moved and manhandled so easily. There’s a target on your back so often and Gojo loves being an arrow.

He kisses the side of your body as you stand on your knees beside him. His fingers hook into your shorts and panties, sliding them off of your body all in a fell swoop. He squeezes your ass slightly, spreading you apart.

“Look at you all bent over for me,” He coos, hands reaching underneath you to toy with your pussy. You whine, shuddering, clinging to his shoulders. “So pretty, baby. Prettiest girl.”

A hiccup bobs in your throat. Gojo moves his fingers lower and lower, familiar now with the feel of you. Your cunt is just as welcoming as he remembers. The idea of making love sends a shiver through his whole body. Blood rushes to his cock like a bolt of lightning in his veins. He pushes his middle finger into your twitching, needy hole.

Another sound, cut off by a garbled word of surprise, falls out of your mouth. You’re soaking. Ripe for taking. Gojo wants to fuck you more than anything.

He takes a deep breath, whispering to your skin.

“Fuck,” He laughs, giggling at the thought of it “I’m gonna break you, huh? Gotta be—shit, need to be extra careful with you, right my love?”

“Please be gentle.” You say at his request.

“Of course, of course but—” He squeezes your hip as he feels his middle finger go into you down to the knuckle. You roll your hips against him involuntarily “You just—you’d look so good so full of my cock, y’know? Been thinkin’ about it for weeks.”

And he has, means every word. You shudder at the confession. He quirks his lips as he fucks into you, relishing in those pretty little sounds that fall out of your lips.

“You like that?” He grunts, another finger to stretch you out a little more for him “You like when I tell you about all the dirty things you make me think about?”

Shame fills you, like Gojo’s lit a match under you. He can feel your heartbeat pick up. Is it the being so wanted or is it the crassness and humiliation? Maybe both. Sometime later he’ll pick it apart more closely. He lets himself talk you through it, so close to your skin as he whispers all the filth to you that he can. Confesses it to you.

“Weeks and weeks, baby. Couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect and wet you would feel when I finally took you like this. Gonna make it so good for you, you won’t have to think about anything else again.”

The promise sends you limp. When Gojo finally feels both of his fingers slide in and out of you with no resistance at all, he sighs lightly and pulls away. The loss of contact makes you whine, but he brings you back to his lap now, sitting with your legs on either side of his.

His cock, clothed and restrained in his sweats, swells against your wet cunt. He watches your eyes widen as you stare at it, lucid enough this time to realize what it looks like. He looks up at you, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“C’mon. You can look.”

He guides you to the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull his pants down slowly, looking up for permission (which Gojo gives in a loving nod) before taking his boxers off too. His cock is so hard it’s almost painful. The tip is a flush red, white hairs trimmed neat at the base and feeling so fucking heavy Gojo can’t stand it. He hisses as your hands reach for him instinctively, and you try to pull away before he stops you.

“Touch it, sweetheart” He encourages, wrapping your hand around it for you “Feel it? That’s all you.”

A flush graces your features. For a minute, it’s all love and nothing more. Nothing less. Too briefly for it to mean anything, but enough for Gojo to know it. You wrap your hands around his shaft and stroke tentatively and Gojo groans shamelessly into you, rutting his hips into the round part of your palms.

“Fuck that’s it,”

He looks at your expression, examining the concentration before chuckling. Your lip is poked out, eyes dazed. He pulls away from you, securing you close to him.

With the new proximity, he holds his cock close to you. Measure it up against your skin, against your tummy. He feels you against him, Around him, folds nudging apart for him, The skin on skin alone has him so breathless. A dizzy sort of feeling as he presses the tip of his cock hard against your clit. You feel like silk around him.

Looking at you like this, all helpless and needy, he can’t help but think about how easily he can overpower you. He’s stronger and bigger. His cock would be enough to split you in half. How he’s gonna make himself fit inside of you spins in his mind over and over. Maybe like always, your pretty little pussy will yield just for him. You’ll open and endure and take him so deep.

He can’t help appreciating it. Can’t keep his thoughts quiet from telling you.

“See that? How deep I’m gonna go?” He measures up to you. A hand on the bottom of your stomach, stroking his thumb “Gonna feel me right in here. You ready?”

You close your eyes and look away. Gojo grabs your chin and tuts at you.

“Nuh-uh. Want you to see. Don’t close your eyes.”

It’s not a question or a request.

So, you watch. Gojo lifts you up just enough to line up with your entrance and sinks you down so, so slowly on his cock. It’s agonizing how slow. It’s incredible how fucking good you feel. How perfect one sensation could possibly fucking be - Gojo could die here in complete bliss. He can feel the stretch of your pussy trying to accommodate. That sensation of resistance that sends him reeling, spine tingling and skin prickling with a heat so intense he feels like he’s going to pass out just sitting there.

And then there’s looking at you, which proves to be an entirely new animal. You have this pinched expression, a shocked little gasp as Gojo pushes through. A whimper leaves your lips. Gojo rubs his thumb on your lower lip as he eases you down.

“Hurt too much?”

“N-no. Just… feels weird.”

He laughs a little at your honesty, before fucking himself into you even deeper. Another inch and he really starts to feel you. Your walls feel like they’re sucking him and Gojo wouldn’t leave if it killed him. He groans, deep in his chest as you shake. Your grip on his shoulders gets tighter and tighter.

With one more smooth thrust, Gojo sits you down on his cock completely. He feels so complete like this. Everything in him is at ease feeling your insides spasm and melt around him. He sighs contentedly.

“Still okay?”

You nod weakly.

“Can I move?”

Your reply is nothing more than a whimper.

So he does, but he does so slowly. Just to get into the rhythm. He thrusts up slowly.

‘O-oh. Oh, oh it’s,”

He chuckles against the crook of your neck, hugging you close to him. He loves the way you feel against his body, the way your frame fits so perfectly into him. He rolls his hips up into you so there’s no effort on you to move. You whine that time, and he does again and again until your voice is a mess.

“Starting to feel good?”

“S-satoru.”

He swears.

“Fuck, stop that,” He swears “Gonna—shit, gonna cum right away. Moving so hold onto me tight, baby.”

You take his words for it. Gojo feels your soft tits pressed into his chest as he pulls your hips up and starts fucking up into you. Each time he does, he feels like he can feel all the way to the back of you. None of his fantasies could compare to the feeling of being this deep inside, cock nudging against that sweet spot that keeps making you fucking mewl into his ear. He can hardly take it as it is now, focusing hard on not cumming until you do.

Making it good for you is his priority. Always has been, but you make it hard for him like you do most things.

“Touch yourself for me, okay?”

You look at him surprised but listen to his request regardless. Gojo takes to fucking you steadily. He builds an even rhythm as he keeps you up, hands firm on your hips as he pistons you from underneath. The pleasure comes in waves, undulates as blood continues to rush to his cock. He’s so hard he can’t think straight but he keeps each of his thrusts consistent, lines them with the pace you play with your clit so he can encourage you to cum for him.

He can tell you’re starting to feel good when your mouth falls agape. He drags on your walls with each punctuated movement and your thighs shake and tense. Everything comes together so slowly but the pleasure comes at once. It’s a force that’s nearly earth shattering. All the planets aligned, everything in the same plane. Everything for him and for you. For the togetherness he’s created and chased after so long.

Now this part of you is all his too.

“Sa—Satoru,” You warn, your hands trembling and fingers cramped up with need. He grunts as he stares up at you through thrusts “G-gonna…”

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock? Go on. Know you can do it, baby. So good for me. Perfect for me.”

It’s all babbling for him now, the sensation hitting him in waves. Your mouth falls agape and you cum so hard Gojo can feel every fucking pulse. Squeezing his cock hard enough he wants to grit his teeth. He presses his mouth to yours instead as you moan out, unable to hold it in. He swallows every noise like he’s trying to embed them into himself.

You cum hard and fast and Gojo is so quick to follow you. Only seconds after you fall limp into his arms does he feel it - no longer able to stave off the urge to cum so deep in you it stays forever. To mark you deeply you never think of anything. It’s almost animalistic for him. Every nerve on his body is on fire as he shoots his cum deep into you, sitting you on his dick with nowhere for you to go.

Panting, he pulls back to gaze on you. He’s still hard as he’s twitching. He can’t hold off tonight, he doesn’t think. But he’ll give you a minute to collect yourself. He presses a kiss to your hairline.

He whispers softly as the night comes to a quiet, quiet still.

“I’m yours and you’re mine baby. Forever and always.”

You shake. And Gojo knows you well enough to know that it’s the resentment coming back in waves. But that’s okay, because Gojo loves you.

And with this, he’s taken everything.

EPILOGUE / OVERTURE :

Your senses are accustomed to Gojo by now.

You never thought such a day would come. You spent the first year of this relationship (if you can call it that, to begin with) in trenches so deep you couldn’t really tell left from right. So many things persisted as normal, but nothing was ever the same.

In that, though, Gojo stayed by your side till the bitter end. He nursed you back into health and sometimes treated you so kindly that you could almost forget who you were dealing with. Sometimes the weight of everything became too heavy. You think you love Gojo almost as much as you hate him.

But it doesn’t particularly matter what your feelings are. Has it ever, in any of this? You always knew that something was strange but you didn’t think you were so clueless. Blindly following wherever his voice took you.

The first time you try to escape Gojo feels like so long ago. That time, he let you go quite far. You made it out of the house and even went out of the country during summer. But you were sloppy and inexperienced. When he found you and brought you back home, you figured it had been a fluke. You’d learn from it. You’d do it again and that time you would succeed.

That’s what you told yourself anyway. It’s how this all started. Where you would run, and Gojo would let you before he started to miss you. He’d come and he’d discipline but it was never too cruel.

(You wished it were. You wished it were sickly and sadistic and tortuous. You think it’s so much worse to beg for mercy when you are sobbing from pleasure. For Gojo to coddle and sedate you and never yield. You think you’d prefer if he were just out of it. Just cruel instead of what he is. Which is knowing but certain. Justified.)

This has been the farthest you’ve ever gotten. You don’t think you’ve ever been this far away from home. A cabin in the woods where you lived peacefully for days. You don’t know how Gojo found you.

You had been so sure. This was it. It had to be it.

Your heart shatters as you hear him. Feel him in your bones so much it frightens you. The world is covered in a sheet of white, and your ankles are bruised and bleeding from where you’ve fallen. You’re cold and your heart is beating so loud - but no matter how much you run you can’t find any heartbeat to motivate you.

Gojo pulls through the thickets with a frown on his face. Blue eyes and black coat, his feet crunch the snow as he comes towards you. You crawl away. You try too, anyways.

Gojo leans down to your level, looking at you closely. He reaches out to brush snow away from your skin.

“My birthdays soon, you know?” He hums, not angry today. Not even wanting to discipline you “It’s not a bad place, y’know? The cabin. We can spend some time there before we go home. Might be nice. But we should get going so we can check on your foot.”

He reaches his hand out to you this time. Too injured to run, you take it and he smiles before offering to carry you on his back. You hop on, arms around his neck and don’t even cry. A numbness settles.

It is not the cold.

“Oh, look,” Gojo says, reaching his hands out “Snow’s falling.”

You suppose it is. Another Winter will pass just like this.

A dog howls somewhere far off in the distance.

#writing tag #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #noncon cw #yandere cw #manipulation cw #coercion cw

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roxygen22 · 1 month ago

Note

Any of these fever prompts with timothee pls and thank you 😊

Love you 😘

Link 🔗

https://www.tumblr.com/lawrencespen1777/751448171874533376/whump-fever-prompts-comment-your-favorite-im?source=share

Love you, too, doll! 🥰

Prompt: "You're not thinking clearly right now."

Tether

My fingers carded through Timothee's hair, damp with sweat as he lay unconscious on the hospital bed. The rhythmic beeping of the monitor must have lulled me into a trance-like stupor; I nearly jumped out of my skin when the ER nurse pulled aside the blue curtain.

"Oh, sorry hun. I just need to hang a new bag for his meds."

I nodded and stepped aside so she could do her job. I wondered what drug they were switching to now, seeing as how the doctor wasn't even sure why Timothée's fever had spiked high enough to trigger convulsions.

Flashbacks of my best friend writhing on the couch plagued my mind and seared into my brain. He had been feeling unwell for a couple of days and had to cancel a work trip that he was looking forward to. Knowing he would be bummed, I decided to go visit, bearing his favorite snacks and a couple of movies I thought he'd enjoy from my DVD collection. He hadn't answered my texts, so I figured he was resting. I used the spare key he gave me to let myself in and-

I shuddered and shook my head to clear my thoughts. He was more than just my best friend, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise because he didn't feel the same.

I don't know what I would do if I lost him.

Once the nurse left, I resumed my position by Timothee's side, slowly drifting off as I rested my head on the bed, my hand clinging to his. I thought I was dreaming when I felt his fingers clasp mine. I quickly sat up, blinking and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I couldn't tell if hours or just minutes had passed.

"Hey," he said through a strained whisper as we locked eyes.

"Oh, Timmy, you're awake!" I lifted and kissed the back of his hand and pressed it to my cheek. "I was so scared."

"How did I get here?" he questioned, looking around as he became more lucid.

"I- I found you. I came to check on you, and...and-" The dam broke, releasing the flood of tears that had been held back by a thin veil of adrenaline. He flipped his hand to gently wipe them away with his thumb.

"You have a knack for always being there when I need you. [Y/N], I- I love you."

"I- you-?" I struggled to form a coherent response as my face contorted in disbelief. I loved him dearly but never thought he saw our friendship as anything more than that.

"[Y/N], I could hear your voice while I was out. I grabbed onto it like a tether. I wanted desperately to come back to you. The thought that I may die without ever telling you how I feel was killing me over and over again. I love you and I want to marry you."

I felt my jaw drop as my words failed me. Time crawled before my neurons fired again. "Timmy, I- I love you, too. So, so much. But I'm afraid you're not thinking clearly right now. How about we talk about this later so you don't say something you regret. Who knows if these meds have made you loopy. They wouldn't tell me anything." I stood and anxiously walked around the bed to look at the IV bag for a clue of how genuine his declarations were.

Timothée shook his head and grabbed my hand again with surprising swiftness for someone who just regained consciousness only a few minutes prior. He nervously rubbed his thumb over my left ring finger. His eyes brimmed with tears, and his voice cracked. "My [cleared throat]- my only regret is not saying it a long time ago. I know it's a little backward to ask you to marry me and then ask you out on a date, but -"

"Ask me again when we aren't in a hospital, and I will say yes to both." I bent down and kissed him gently for the first time, but certainly not the last.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002

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hollyhomburg · 1 year ago

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.62)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: love becomes guilt, predator becomes prey, and Jin becomes...

Tags: Hospitals, medical talk, sicfic, seizures, angst, hurt/comfort, assassin! Jimin, implied autistic! jimin, meltdowns, settling, non-sexual biting, Mafia shit, murder, Dead bodies, Guns, violence, blood. everyone lives nobody dies, morality conversations, revenge, secrets

W/c: 10.9k

A/n: thank you to everyone who helped me make my birthday this year super special <3 im sorry if i was bad at thanking people publicly for their specific gifts <3 i figured that the next best way i could say thank you was to give you another chapter...be warned, this one ends on QUITE the cliffhanger....be warned

Previous part ~ Masterlist

The hospital is cold, maybe that’s just because of the first snow.

It gathers on the trees outside like a faint white outline where someone forgot to fill the image in. Cresting the shoulders of everyone who walks into the hospital and turning the streetlight into halos and the sky into one big white blanket. The whole world is a nest when the weather is like this. Maybe if the whole world was a nest, it would be enough to keep you all safe.

It’s useless to hope, as you wait with Jimin outside of Jungkook’s hospital room.

The hospital is a mess of glowing exit signs and endless beeping. A dull roar in your ears from coming down adrenaline and a telephone nearby blares. The scratchy intercom system overhead pages a doctor for a code red. Whatever that is. You sit and wait, worrying and picking at your nails, full of useless energy. There is nothing to do but wait until someone tells you if Jungkook’s alright.

You're not sure if he will be, this seizure was a bad one.

You and Jimin sit side by side, and you don’t talk. You don’t even touch. You don’t know what you prefer, the instant terror of the car bomb, or this slow terror. Slow terror feels like nails dragging down the back of your skull, like clothes that are two sizes too tight. A bad taste in your mouth, not blood and not soot either.

The relief of finding out that Jungkook wasn’t calling you because Moonbyul had done something to him was only temporary. instead of your packmate there was a stranger on the other end of the line.

He’d still been seizing when you’d got back to the coffee shop. Foreghein scents on him and a crowd of patrons and paramedics surround him. His eyes rolled back into his skull, on his side, blue lips and froth on the edge of his mouth. Luckily, someone in that coffee shop was a doctor, was able to keep him semi-comfortable but-

This seizure had lasted a long time. Too long. Jungkook has been a patient at most of the local hospitals before on account of how unpredictable his seizures are. He has directives as per Namjoon's guidance, in place since before they were even packmates. Anything more than 6 minutes needs an overnight stay and copious testing. This seizure had lasted almost 10. The longest he's had in years.

You'd watched horrified and all too familiar with it as they’d loaded your still twitching packmate into the red box. Unsympathetic paramedics unwilling to hear your pleas to just let Jimin ride with them to the hospital (he'd tailgated them the whole way) but even at the hospital you and Jimin still couldn’t see him. They whisked him right up for an MRI.

Maybe you’d be less unnerved if Jungkook had woken up, but he hasn’t yet.

They’re still running tests and keeping him under just to be sure. Not a medical coma, but the step below that. Something about Jungkook’s malfunctioned ocular nerve and not wanting to trigger more seizures with more stimuli until the lorazepam and half a dozen other medications have time to take effect.

Jimin is the one who okayed those. He signed those papers for medications as easily as if he were swiping his card or maybe firing a gun. You feel out of your depth here, even if Jimin is very used to this. It’s been a while. It’s not your fault the luck ran out. Maybe that’s why he’s angry, maybe that’s why he’s not touching you. You are at once, somewhere between a four-leaf clover and a bad luck charm. Intangible and unsure of your odds.

Maybe Jimin's not touching you because he hates you, maybe he hates you because you forced him to let you come with him. you'd have been by Jungkook's side while this happened if you hadn't. But Jimin might have died from the explosion then-

Jungkook might still die, you realize with a lurch. Jungkook might die because of the seizures and could die at any time really. It's so easy to forget. Maybe that's why Jimin's not touching you. Your thoughts rush over you, wave after wave.

But Jimin thinks you don’t deserve to be touched when he’s this angry. You’ve had a lifetime’s worth of an angry alpha touching you and he won’t be one of them. Won’t make you worse when you’re sitting small and fragile. Barely there, barely alive. No, he'll keep his shaking hands tightened to fists on his knees and his angry tongue locked behind pursed lips. touching you would be more for him than it is for you he's convinced.

Too close, they were too close today. Jimin promised you that he wouldn’t let them hurt you. He promised and he'd failed. you still have the gash on your chin.

His worry for Jungkook is another monster entirely, one that can't be made better with actions, that can't be fixed with his own two hands.

Yoongi and Tae are the first to arrive. Your mate’s hair is wet and tousled, in a pair of pajama pants on like he’d just been showering for the evening before he’d come. Tae is close behind, a pair of pink sweatpants poking out from below her long thick coat and her long nightdress tucked into the waistband. The same dress you cuddled up beneath this morning. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Yoongi holds your cheeks, searching your face. The words tumble from your lips, the first you and Jimin have said in what feels like hours.

“He was just- we were just getting the car and we thought he’d be fine for a second but then-” you feel like you’re going to be sick all over his shoes. In his hurry, Yoongi put on a pair of Tae’s Uggs, the platform ones. You don't know why your brain fixates on that.

“It’s not your fault,” is the first thing he says, although even he sounds unsure. You shouldn’t have left him alone are the words that he must be thinking, the words that no one’s saying.

(This is a lie. This is your brain making up the worst-case scenario and clinging to it. There is nothing anyone can do, no precautions that they can take that they already haven’t when it comes to Jungkook’s seizures. Yoongi just gets small and quiet whenever Jungkook is sick. Jungkook will always be sick, and this quiet devastation will always find your mate because he loves Jungkook so).

There is nothing to do but wait, even though waiting with them is better than waiting alone.

The people at the coffee shop said they saw jungkook lie down before he started seizing. That's the only way they were able to call you, because he'd had your contact open on his phone. He'd known he was about to have one and he'd tried to call you. He'd been afraid and alone and then he'd been nothing.

The movements of the hospital slosh the four of you like an unmoored boat while you wait. Every doctor coming closer prompts a turn of your head and pleading eyes. Hoping that they’re the ones that will relieve you of your misery. Your leg jumps up and down, jittery. Jimin by comparison is deathly still.

Yoongi goes up to the desk and Tae sits between you and Jimin, one hand a piece on either of your thighs. You lean into her and Jimin rests his cheek on her shoulder slowly. She holds around your shoulders, looking back and forth between the two of you. She doesn’t any anything.

Her fingers rub up and down your shoulder, feeling the crumbliness there. She picks her hand up, and you watch as she takes in the darkness. It's soot.

“It’s from the ambulance,” Jimin says before you can force your words to cooperate and lie.

Jin comes through with a flurry of his long felted coat, snow gathering on his wide shoulder. Holding his keys in his hand and almost dropping them when you stand to collide with him. He has just a choked-out "pup" for you but then there's the nurse, the one you've been waiting for. Telling you that Jungkook's fine- he's not awake yet- but that you can wait in his room with him until he does.

Jungkook doesn't have too many wires connected to him, nothing more than an electrode at his temple, one at his heart, and an IV in his wrist. His hospital gown is pulled down to his collarbones so that the electrodes don't pull, but his skin is absent of his usual healthy flush.

You wait, watching until you notice the rise and fall of his chest. Even and beautiful breath. Jungkook is alive, Jungkook is breathing of his own accord. You let out a single broken sob, but you're not the only one.

You watch Yoongi brush his hair back from his face, eyes glassy. Seokjin sits by his right side and tae takes the other. Jimin and you stand at the foot of his bed, just watching him. No one says anything. Every beep of the heart monitor is anticipated, every second more precious.

"There's nothing on his MRI that indicates any lasting brain damage from the seizure," the nurse states, fussing with Jungkook's IV. "but it will be hard to know until he wakes up. You might notice him unable to recognize you or speak for a few minutes- the location of the seizure may have affected his language and motor capabilities so-"

She continues to list his prognosis, but it's nothing you didn't know before. Every seizure has a risk of taking out part of Jungkook's faculties, his fine motor skills, and his speech. But a seizure has never damaged him beyond repair before. Tae takes one of Jungkook's hands from the bed and brings it to her face, trying to hide her tears but it's no use.

It’s startling, how much your body relaxes upon Namjoon’s presence, you feel the shift in the air before he enters the room. Nauseous one moment and then fine the next. He enters the room, hand skimming the top of your head and Yoongi's side as he be-lines it to Jungkook's chart.

His scent is so thick- comforting coffee even if it is a a little stale. You sway, and when he looks up, his eyes flicker from you and then the nurse.

Today is not the end of the world, even though it feels like it. It feels like it's ending every time Jungkook finds his way into a hospital bed, a good 3 or 4 times in a year. Honestly, they’ve been so quiet recently, so unnoticeable that they should have known a bigger one was building.

“Dr. Kim,” Jungkook’s nurse says, this is not Namjoon’s hospital, but he is on Jungkook’s file. This nurse looks at him and waits for his call. Namjoon flicks past one page on his chart and then another, pursing his lips.

“Why didn't Avery order a Ct? it’s not here.”

“The ct has already been run Dr. Kim, He put the order in 4 minutes ago” Namjoon hums, and you watch the clench of his jaw, the extra tight way he bites his cheek. And it’s then you realize oh, Namjoon is about to cry.

Yoongi gets to him before you do, Jungkook’s fingers twitch of their own accord against Namjoon’s wrist and Yoongi grips his shoulder. Namjoon looks back at him and at the same time, Jungkook opens his eyes blinking against the dim lights.

His words are all garbled for the first few seconds after a seizure, the Jumbled groan startling enough that you flinch. Yoongi backs up so that Jin and Namjoon can hold him down as he reaches blindly, startled and moving before his brain has a second to catch up.

"It's okay Jungkook, you had a seizure. You were out for a few hours, You're okay,"

"Come up slowly, don't try to sit up there you go."

Jungkook tries to get up and out of the bed but has to be held down by namjoon until his brain comes back online, he continues to speak garbled nonsense for a moment. Too loud, voice loud after so much quiet. It startles you; you take a step back.

And almost step right on Hobi’s shoes.

Hoseok is there, hand on the small of your back. Snowflakes that still haven’t melted in his hair. He doesn’t say hi to you, but his hand stays there. Pressed flat. He only has eyes for Jungkook. Jungkook relaxes, falling back on the bed, and gets one coherent syllable out and then another. It's their names-.

"Alpha- Joon- hughr-"

Jungkook pants, breathing heavily, and then his hand reaches up steadily, to touch the electrode on his head. Yoongi's hand closes around his just in case, but he doesn't rip it off.

Everyone waits with bated breath.

“You alright kookie?” Hoseok asks careful, with that same level of humor in his voice that you’ve come to need. His smile is as genuine as ever as he looks down a Jungkook in the hospital bed. Jungkook’s hand is tight around Namjoon’s as he stretches, muscles aching. He’s always so sore after a seizure. It's always so disorienting coming out of them like this.

Jungkook waits, testing out his words. “I feel like Like it got hit by a trucking fuck.”

He blinks, and the lights are turned low, but a breath passes and Tae laughs and so does Yoongi, and then everyone's laughing and sort of crying. Your knees go a little weak and you turn into hobi's chest hiding your tears.

Jungkook just blinks at the ceiling. “That wasn’t right.” But then everyone's smiling. Happy because he's talking, happy because it looks like the seizure didn't do any lasting damage. Jin rests his head on the coverlet and sighs a happy sound. All too relieved to hear Jungkook act something like himself. Wordlessly Jin brings Jungkook's wrist to his face, pressing his nose to his scent gland.

The hospital room isn’t big enough for all of you let alone when more staff enter the room along with someone who Namjoon must know, because she instantly starts listing off different medical jargon. Asking Jungkook how many fingers she's holding up, Namjoon's name, then testing his reflexes on his hands and toes. Stress tests and memory tests.

One moment you’re standing in the doorway and then the next you’re pressed to the wall between Tae, Jimin, and Hobi.

The hospital room isn’t big enough for all of you let alone when more staff enters the room along with someone whom Namjoon must know, because she instantly starts listing off different medical jargon and refers to him by name.

One moment you’re standing in the doorway and then the next you’re pressed to the wall between Tae, Jimin, and Hobi. Tae opens the door and gestures. You step out because it’s surely more important that Namjoon Jin and Yoongi get at Jungkook right now even if your heart clenches painfully at leaving Jungkook.

Jimin is still vibrating out of his skin, has been since Jungkook opened his eyes. But Tae tugs him in for a hug in the hallway. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you watch him hug her back. But Jungkook was Tae and Jimin’s packmate first. It’s no wonder that this has shocked them both closer, their fight forgotten.

Or mostly forgotten, you watch as Jimin wraps his arms around her slowly, like he's not sure he's allowed.

Hobi jogs you out of your starting, turning your face towards his and, looking at you intently. Eyes flickering down to your chin and then to your eyes. You forget what he’s looking at until his fingers skim below your lips and you feel pain.

You drag your arm across it and it leaves a small rusty trail in its wake on the sleeve of Tae's jacket, just another stain on it. Oh, you fell during the blast and banged your face, you'd almost forgotten.

“Tripped, banged my face on the sidewalk.” it's close enough to the truth that the lie goes unnoticed. Hobi makes a sound, holding your elbow. Squeezing it reassuringly.

“I’m gonna get some snacks from the vending machine, can I get you something?”

“Didn’t eat dinner” you say, staring down at Hobi’s red Converse. There are scuffs on the linoleum and a drop of blood someone must have missed. You wonder who it’s from, another person from the emergency room probably. “You sure Jin and Joon won’t be angry if my dinner is just sweets?”

Tae is close enough to overhear, and she rubs her cheek across the top of Jimin’s head, scenting him sweet (or trying to.) “Yeah- junk food isn’t exactly the most nutritious.”

You stumble, stepping close, swaying suddenly on your feet. Hobi catches you around the shoulders and for a second, you must look like the mirror image of Tae and Jimin.

Hobi's scent smarts with worry and he pushes you back, making you sit down. “They can live with it, she deserves a special treat. I’m getting you a Band-Aid.” Tae looks like she wants to argue with Hobi, then doesn’t.

Hobi gets Skittles and Peanut Eminem’s and two bags of funyuns that you pick apart while you wait for the doctors to be done. The colorful packages are scattered across your lap as he tilts your head to put the Band-Aid on your chin (gotten from a helpful nurse). Fingers that tenderly curve under the wide part of your jaw, drumming there.

Tae nibbles on a peach ring. Inside Jungkook's hospital room, it isn't quiet, but the four of you are silent with exhaustion listening in. Jin sounds relieved, and the low grumble from your mate sounds just as happy.

Jimin still isn’t speaking much, just pacing back and forth in front of Jungkook’s door. When you say you feel nauseous, Hobi gets up and gets you ginger ale too. You know there just isn’t much for him to do, alpha instincts and no omega to cool them but you. Hobi holds your hand, he doesn’t say that Jungkook’s going to be okay. He doesn’t say anything but.

“Which are your favorite?”

The back of Skittles jingles and he picks out all the green ones, lining up his pants in an orderly little row for you to grab when the ones you suck on go small enough.

You don't realize you're crying until he gets you a tissue, dabbing at your cheek. "There you go, Kookies gonna be fine. He's always fine." His voice goes slower, honeyed.

You rest your cheek on his shoulder, and he lets you. “You got a pair of headphones?” Your breath is shaky, and you think you might be shaking apart right now if it wasn’t for Hobi.

Namjoon stares at the packages for a second too long when he exits the door. His hair is pushed up like he’s run his fingers through it, but he doesn’t smell quite as worried as he did before. He looks at the package and you shrink underneath his disapproving stare.

He all but snaps his fingers, “Tae, would you please go get some real food.” Hobi does not flinch at Namjoon’s cross-tone, even as Tae shoots to her feet and chirps "Yes alpha!"

Hobi doesn’t do anything but stare Namjoon down, put a pink starburst on his tongue, slowly.

Jimin keeps pacing.

“We’re sleeping here tonight.” It’s not an order or a request- your pack alpha has decided that this is too great a danger to separate you so you won’t separate. Neither of you pipes up anything to the contrary, now is not the time for contrary voices.

Jimin is still pacing. Black leather shoes smoothed and silent, barely acknowledging the pack alpha.

He’s making you anxious, your scent sour even to your own nose as your eyes track him back and forth. Namjoon pulls you to your feet, hand lingering on the back of your neck. “Will you be okay in those clothes pup? Or should someone go home and get your things?”

You hear the request for what it is; Namjoon is asking you if you think the alphas need a nest to settle if you think they need a change of clothes and things that smell like pack tonight for sleep and safety. he's leaving this up to you.

Your hands stay buried in the pockets of Tae’s white floral jacket. Hoping he doesn’t notice the soot smudge on your shoulder. “It'll be fine just-” your eyes are half glassy, “are you sure Koo will be okay?”

The pack alpha pulls you to his front, and one of the nurses passing by gives you both a look, you have to get on your tippy toes to kiss him. "of course he's going to be, we're making sure of it" Namjoon promises.

"I meant like, without a nest."

Namjoon laughs, and you watch the stress melt off his shoulders. he turns, guiding you inside with a peculiar look over his shoulder at Hobi. “I’m sure he’d love it if you’d help him make one. he already wants to start"

Jungkook looks a little bit better, with less of a pale-yellow flush to his face and more of a healthy glow. pouting down at the blankets and complaining that they're too rough.

For someone who looks so physically well/muscles defined even when they’re not flexed, it’s always a bit startling to see him lying prone and exhausted, lights dim to avoid the risk of another seizure.

Tae comes back with some food, and you all eat in silence, white Styrofoam containers balanced across your knees. The faint crinkle and drag of plastic spoons scraping plastic bowls. Jungkook eats hospital food. Nibbles it, and doesn't throw it up. One of the side effects of the medication is nausea.

The only one not at ease is Jimin, who doesn’t eat, sitting tacitly in the corner watching each of you, getting up occasionally to pace. The pack let him work off his restless energy until it’s clear it’s making Jungkook restless too. Shifting and watching him. His request of, “Minnie will you come and sit by me?” goes unanswered as Jimin flexes his hands from open palm to open fist again and again.

Jungkook watches the jello in his plastic tray jiggle with the force of Jimin's pacing, back and forth. Back and forth. Tae sighs, and Yoongi stiffens.

He goes like that, pacing one two three steps just in front of Tae before turning. He falls apart like this until Jin steps up to intercept him, and Jimin rocks to a stop rather than crash into him. He’s put his hands on Jimin’s shoulders, fingers digging into the tense ball there. Moving quicker than any of you thought possible.

“Breathe.” Comes his terse request. A little broken, a little begging. But Jimin’s alpha will never willingly disobey an order from his pack omega, that’s what’s happening, isn’t it? Jimin’s alpha has taken over, took over the second he saw Jungkook lying between those two tables in the coffee shop. All instinct and no Jimin, all fear and pulse and get them safe get them home get them out.

But it’s like Jimin’s lungs are pried open from it. He gasps, and Jin pulls him in for a thorough scent mark, systematically dragging his teeth from ear to ear, hard enough to leave dull red lines in his wake. You watch Jimin’s eyes dilate and constrict, plush lips parting in a gasp. Looking at you.

Jin licks his teeth after, “There you go.” You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Jin settle Jimin or if you’ve ever seen him settle any of the alphas like this. Jimin asks for bites again and Jin obliges. Bending over him to drive his teeth, to nip Jimin's skin pink between his teeth. Bite after bite Jimin’s body relaxes inch by inch.

And so does the rest of the pack, underneath the covers, Jungkook shifts his hips, splaying them a little wider. Relaxing as Jimin goes boneless.

Jin’s voice is a dark croon, the tone he reserves only for Jimin and maybe Namjoon sometimes. He's a little firmer when the more dominant alphas need his touch. Jimin feels it as delicately as Yoongi's soothing thumb on the side of your thumb when Jin pinches his cheeks and shakes him a little bit.

“Now, do you want to tell Omega why you’re upset?”

“S’my fault” Jimin sways on his feet, closer to Jin’s touch than back again. a planet in orbit. the rest of the pack watched transfixed. You see Hoseok perk up slightly. “Wasn’t there.”

“Minnie, I know you,” Jin cups his cheek a little gentler. Fingers skimming stubble. “I know you,” Jin repeats, such an air of finality about it that you can’t doubt it to be true.

Jin could command the moon to shift its orbit and it would. “I know you’ll do whatever’s possible to protect the pack" Jimin's eyelashes flutter. "To your dying breath.”

“You don’t have to be so intense about it” Namjoon half snaps, any of them dying isn't what he wants to think about right now. But he's forgiven the second he realizes he's being too harsh, everyone’s a bit stressed right now.

Jin’s dark tone falls away as quick as it came, “But still- what happened with JK wasn’t your fault, isn’t that right kookie?”

Jungkook nods, eyes closed, licking his lips like he's tasting the settling in the air. “Not Jimin’s fault my brains fucked up, just how it is” Jin pecks Jimin’s head, pinning his blond hair flat. “See pup? Listen to the omega’s, You’re fine. Everyone's going to be fine."

Jin speaks the words so surely you almost believe it.

The hospital is a bit generous with the extra sleeping cots (Namjoon might have called his boss and asked him to pull privileges), and you get 3 that they roll up one on one side of Jungkook's hospital bed, and two more on the other side.

But you and Jin pile in just around him. Cuddled up close and scenting along his shoulders, sniffling and fluffing a few extra threadbare blankets around him in a makeshift nest, full of your jackets too.

You steal Tae's pants for the nest making, letting her untuck her nightdress and let it flutter around her. But when one of the nurses comes to the door Namjoon (panicked) throws himself across the exposed line of her honeyed thighs to conceal her nakedness. but she just giggles, she’s not some Victorian maiden full of virtue, but it makes Jungkook smile and scrunch his nose. and it feels like a win even if Namjoon's cheeks go bright red.

You cuddle up, trying fitfully to banish the medicinal scent by scenting him. It's sour and not all like him, but the medicine they give him for his seizures always makes him smell a little off for a few days. It’s no less distressing to you, but Jungkook just grins and tells the others to let you do what you need when you rest your body weight on top of him and stubbornly bury your face in his chest. His hand with the attached IV strewn across your back to cradle your ribs.

Before no time Jungkook is laughing and leaning into Yoongi’s stomach where he lies across the top of the bed. In no time he's taking a few bites of veggies and a few sips of water, eyes heavy. He is tried from the seizure and medication even if he puts on a brave face.

They’ll drag him into one more MRI in the morning just to be sure that nothing concerning has developed over time but until then, the beeping of Jungkook’s heart monitor is your lullaby. Every heartbeat is a new chance. You don't even mind the lumpy hospital pillow. The pack goes quiet when Jungkook's eyes flutter, when they shut and his breathing goes deep. yoongi puts his finger to his lips and jin shifts slowly, Jungkook's head resting on his thigh. your lovely packmate resting between jin's parted legs.

The rest of the pack falls like Domino’s once Jungkook's asleep. Hobi shucks off his jeans to be more comfortable and so does Yoongi. The room is full of heavy breaths and dreams waiting to swoop in. You struggle to settle until Hobi gives you one of his headphones, and you lie close to share them, one in each of your ears. he still has his sleepy time playlist, and it blocks out the sounds of the hospital. When Sleep takes you it's thankfully dreamless.

Somehow Hobi's hand finds your waist under the covers, bunching up and tangling in his sweatshirt. Clinging to you and holding on for dear life. His bare thighs between your thin leggings tangled up in the makeshift nest. Jin only glances at your particular closeness a few times.

Sleep evades jin until he gives up on it entirely. Nothing feels quite as good to Jin’s instincts as having all of his packmates sleeping in one room. Even if it's not quite good enough to get him to fall asleep himself. But still- Jin would rather they not be here; would rather they be in the nest at home.

That will have to wait until tomorrow.

The distant hum of the hospital and the sound of his dull typing fill the room. His work computer screen is the only light in the whole room besides the monitors. Jin's computer balanced on his back because Jin had to leave during a briefing on a low-level gang member and Koo said he didn’t mind being used as a computer rest so long as Jin kept running his hands through his hair. Jimin is curled up on the next nearest cot, within petting (and settling) distance if he should need it.

7 a.m.

A look at the clock says that the pack has 5 more hours until Jungkook is allowed to be discharged. Until then, Jin will get some work done and keep an eye on the rest. Namjoon sleeps by the door, he declined a cot on account of there not being enough room for the rest of them to sleep comfortably. Namjoon turns fitfully with every new person who walks by the door. He’s gone in and out of sleep a few times. If he flinches awake again, Jin will get him a cup of coffee.

Until then, there's paperwork and an endless array of evidence for Jin to examine.

There are documents he can look over again, the same ones, back and forth. There are about 300 crime scene photos for each murder that the family has committed in the last 6 months, it doesn’t hurt to skim them again and refresh his notes.

That boy from the coffee shop burned beyond recognition. A pair of 30 caliber bullets in his chest. One under his ribs the other in his head, evidence of deep lacerations and torture on his body, bitten tongue, and evidence of red paint under his fingernails. The only other bit of evidence.

The origin of these paint flecks have been a source of annoyance and frustration for jin and the rest of his coworkers. Maybe they're evidence from a third location between abduction and dumpsite? A bit of the killer's car scraped maybe? The paint was metallic, old-fashioned. After a few minutes, Jin moves on to other murders, other people who have lives and packs and dreams that the family extinguished.

Jin no longer spends hours looking at his picture. The one of Choi Beomgyu alive and grinning. He still gets weekly calls from his pack alpha, begging Jin for any updates and leads. Jin has stopped feeling guilty over being empty-handed.

Jin’s boss's crime scene photos are a little harder to look at if only because of the nausea that those photos bring. Although Jin has become so desensitized to them that his bloated face no longer makes his stomach swirl with revulsion. His missing hand, the torn stump of it induced post-mortem.

One burned and one drowned.

These two kills are by far the family's messiest and hastiest. Usually, they don't even find this much of the bodies. Just a few fragments of bone or a tooth in a pire. Most of the time people just disappear.

What did you know, he thinks, looking at the photograph of the boy and then his charred corpse, what did you know that you shouldn’t have? Why didn't they have time to properly make you disappear? Why couldn't they risk you talking?

It’s funny, out of all the evidence, he tries to look at your cookbook and the late Don and data’s autopsy reports the least. Their tox screen and that one page that might as well be your confession and Ahn Hyejin's (Jin compared the second handwriting to a sample they had on file and matched hers to it in about an hour). Their murder was a neat and tidy little thing, but it is the murder that got his boss killed so maybe Jin should treat it with more scrutiny.

But that’s so simple, it’s almost a wonder why such a slight thread of spider silk needed snipping. Or is Jin wrong and this is a thread that could send the whole thing crumbling down?

Jin’s not sure yet, but maybe after a few more hours of pouring over this, he will be.

It’s nearing 3 in the morning and Jin is still sifting through every little bit of information when a ding punctuates the quiet in the room. Jin panic smashes the mute button before any of his packmates stir.

A warm body away, Hobi lets out a particularly deep and easy breath, and Jin relaxes.

Jin’s first thought looking at the email, is that no one not directly connected to the bureau should be able to get ahold of his email address, let alone be able to send him anything.

The email doesn’t have a heading, and the email doesn’t even have a subject or a cc. Unlike half of Jin’s other correspondents to other people giving them guidelines and delegating tasks. It's only secure for him to look at these here because everyone’s eyes are closed.

On closer look, the sender is just a random email generated with an obscure amount of Xs. He hovers over it. Cursor blinking until he clicks it, he knows better than to click on the link without launching it on his firewall server but the contents of the email aren’t anything but a video and a short line of text.

Skip to 17:19:07 for the fun parts :)

The video isn’t infested with bugs planning on robbing his data and pilfering him for information. No, the data and danger is just right there when Jin skips ahead, Jin holds his breath as he watches the grainy imagery.

The security camera is an IPC-110 if the shitty quality is anything to judge by. Trust a parking garage to install the shittiest CCTV cameras on the market but still the blurry figures of two of Jin’s packmates is unmistakable as he watches. Jimin’s face terse and afraid, backing up against the wall and exchanging words.

The flash of light is so sudden it makes Jin flinch hard and Jungkook groans, before settling and smacking his lips. Jin hardly notices as he watches you and Jimin get thrown by the blast, tight nuckled watching Jimin tuck his body around you and shouting your name. Pauses the video just to look at Jimin's panic-stricken face. To see him yank you to your feet and put you in the car.

Jungkook makes another soft whine when Jin shifts him, jostling him “One second baby” Jin murmurs, putting his computer to the side. Your jacket is on the side of the nest, delicately folded into the border. Jin detangles it and brings it to his nose.

Fire, burning things, soot. The smell is unmistakable. If the timestamp is to be believed, this is the reason why you and Jimin weren’t at the coffee shop with Jungkook. Jin feels the last little bit of his frustration fade at this.

Oh, Minnie.

It’s no wonder why Jimin was too spooked to speak, why he’s been so laconic tonight. First you and then Jungkook so quick. The stress would have anyone shutting down, this is why Jin's smallest but strongest alpha was so quiet and afraid. Why he’d needed a bit of settling when usually he’s someone Jin can depend on during Jungkook’s seizures. One surprise is hard enough to handle.

Jin shifts his petting from Jungkook’s hair to Jimin’s, combing through his blond strands lovingly.

He rewinds the tape back to the beginning, as far back as it will go, and sets it to 3x speed. The first hour goes by in 5 minutes, The person on camera is in all black, but even in black and white Jin would know the kind of mask they wear. It's red at the top and a stunning grimace at the bottom.

He watches as someone slight and billowy, probably 5’7 in height- no 5’9- figure cuts through the cars, heading for Jimin’s like they know which one to go for. The CCTV footage doesn’t cut out at all. Usually, the family is better in concealing their crimes. Usually, they don’t even leave a hint of evidence.

Usually, they don't send the evidence to Jin.

Jin freezes the frame when the figure turns, with the mask fully facing the camera. It’s a traditional Korean mask, the same one Jin has seen photographed on the rest of the family. He drags up Google, doing a cursory search. The footage is in black and white but the images on file are all red and black.

He goes back to the first murder, those hands, the red paint chipped underneath fingernails and his breathing goes heavy.

He needs to go back to Beomgyu’s dumping site and see if there’s anything red, any other possible reason why he’d have that under his fingernails. Either that or this is all connected, and the same person who killed him is trying to kill you.

Jin's breath goes heavy when he thinks about what could have happened if Jimin hadn't been there.

Jin does not wake you and demand to know what happened, Jin keeps his breathing measured and shallow. Does not let his scent get sour enough to wake the others. Jin fully detangles himself from Jungkook and pauses to lean over you, thumb skimming the Band-Aid on your chin.

No one hurts his pack and gets away with it. No one.

He’ll think about what you know and why Jimin didn't tell him later. Poor thing was probably just too shocked to say anything. You might have convinced him that saying anything would have put Jungkook in distress. Jin's anger is a cool sort, it's not you that he's angry at.

It’s only 5 a.m. but Jin goes and gets a coffee anyways. When he gets back, he shoves it into Namjoon’s hands startling him awake. But one glance at the pack omega says that he means business. Shadowed face unreadable silhouetted against the bright and open hospital door.

“Get the doctor, we’re going home.”

~-~

You wake in the hospital bed, roused by Yoongi's gentle hand on your shoulder, feeling listless and sorer than ever with Hobi’s nose pressed to the nape of your neck and Jungkook at your front. You wonder when that started to feel normal. When Hobi cuddled you stopped feeling so forbidden.

you know that when you take off your clothes you'll find your front bruised from falling, that you'll find your body dinnged. you don't know what you'll say, how you'll excuse the marks away from them but in the meantime, you watch jungkook. get a washcloth from the bathroom and whipe his face for him, standing between his legs.

"do you want water? coffee? can i get you something before your MRI"

namjoon sighs heavy, "pup- he can't-"

jungkook leans into your hands, letting you drag the cloth over his face, it's as much grooming as you ever have, but jungkook just smiles up at you and shakes his head. "when we get home yeah?"

The golden light streams through the horizontal blinds and Jungkook shifts as he gets out of the hospital bed and into a wheelchair for his MRI, and you wait for him with the rest of the pack. Yoongi returns with bagels and coffee for everyone. The caffeine makes you all jittery.

After he's given a clean bill of health, Jungkook leaves the hospital under his own power, on his own two feet because he always needs that certainty. Declining the wheelchair that the staff offers because honestly, he’s fine, he'd run out of here if he didn't think namjoon would drag him right back inside.

You’re guided into Jimin’s car, Yoongi drives. Hobi is in the front, turning to look at you more than he should, asking you questions about what song you want to play. Really, it can go as loud as you want cuz Jungkook's in the other car. He asks too many for your brain to answer accurately. You're too tired too worn out too everything to answer.

But when you get home, there is even more movement too quick for your sleepy brain to comprehend. Jin has to go to work and so does Namjoon; something about a revision surgery that won’t take too much time and can't be rescheduled. He's barely changed and cleaned himself before he's heading out the door again. Definitely a bit too tired, but oh well.

But now at home, the rest of the pack has Jungkook well in hand and ready for a bit more babying. Jungkook will be fine by this evening. Is honestly fine now. Just a little tired of being poked and prodded and just needs to nest and rest.

Jin too seems distracted by something, checking his phone and kissing each of you on the forehead before he goes. You're tempted to whine and ask them to stay, if not for Jungkook then for you but before you can, Hobi grips both of your shoulders and tells Namjoon and Jin that he’s got it, and the moment gets stolen away from you.

“I’ll get your pajamas,” he says after the door thuds closed, while Jungkook says something to Yoongi. Noodle meows and darts around Tae's heels and Jimin carries Jungkook to the couch and gently, gently- sets him down. Your mate is distracted right now (as he should be) but that doesn’t mean Hobi can’t fill the gaps.

He thuds up the stairs, bare feet probably cold. The house is still cold from a night left empty even though Yoongi’s just turned the heat on.

Jimin gets a ding on his phone, standing up the second he’s seen it.

Unknown (9:18): I want to talk to you about a murder.

Unknown (9:18): One you might have a vested interest in.

The picture is grainy, but Jimin knows the faces of the two women like the back of his hand although Hyejin takes a few seconds of racking his brain to place. Jimin feels his blood cool to a simmer and the shaking in his hands stops. His phone dings a few more times, whoever's sending it through must be a fast texter, from a burner phone no doubt.

Unknown (9:19): Especially because of the sensitive nature of this, you understand why I’d want to meet in person.

Unknown (9:19): (See attached address)

Jimin's suspicions are immediately peaked, warning bells going off loud. But before he can do more than read over the messages again more come through.

Unknown (9:20): I’m willing to offer you 10x your normal rate for each kill. Two Mil upfront. And Three more when the hit is carried out. I understand how risky it is for you to even view these texts so here

Jimin watches the next notification from his bank account ding through and holds his breath.

Fuck, that's a lot of Zeros.

Unknown (9:20): As a show of my good faith in you. I'll see you in three hours. If not, enjoy the money.

Jimin holds onto the phone like it’s a lifeline, the black plastic case digging into his fingers. He knows it's stupid, he knows that it's dangerous, and a million other things but-

Jin's words ring in his ears. "I know you'll do whatever you have to do to protect the pack, until your dying breath."

The money means nothing to Jimin, he'd do this killing for free. Out of all the lives he's ever taken, this is the first one that maybe he's ever felt vindicated in. the first murder that he's ever truly wanted to commit.

He's gripping his phone so hard he doesn't move until you make a noise. And when he looks up at you, you have a glass of water in your hands, waiting there, watching him. There is still that fucking scrape on your chin. Jimin looks at it and his mind is made up. All of this karma has come due.

If Jimin's being honest with himself, it's not Moonbyul’s confrontation or her comments about you that had Jimin so bothered.

All that "you belong to me" kind of talk that bullshit alphas with something to prove say, like something out of a manhwa. If he's being honest, the thing that bothered him the most, that made him so very angry was how clearly you didn't want them, and how willing she was to ignore that.

He grins at you, tipping his head back and you think Jimin might look like more of a demon than a man.

“I have to go to work.”

“What?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he reaches for Mini and tries to cling but Jimin steps away, sliding back on his still-warm shoes. “I thought you called out already?”

Jimin tugs on his coat, The one with the reinforcement in it, hard panels that flap just a little bit too stiffly. The shoulders that seem just a little too crisp.

"Sorry Koo it's an emergency."

You know just by looking at him that this isn’t for his other job. (You don’t think of bodyguarding as Jimin's real job, not when this one is so much more prescient and dangerous.) You follow him outside, the door closing with that same rusty jingle of the old doorknob.

“It’s not from her.” The words are quiet, stolen. The empty birdfeeder clangs in a sudden wind and you shiver, warm only for a few seconds without a jacket. Jimin’s hand skims your shoulder and he pushes at it, urging you to go back inside.

“It’s not just her who hires me, this isn’t related to her.” He lies effortlessly. Turning and making to walk away, you wrap your arms around him and almost make him fall down the stairs but he catches both of you, swaying at the bottom.

“Pup, you need to let me go,”

“No!” you cling to him stubbornly, “if I let you go something bad is going to happen!”

Jimin is so quiet you think you might not hear him. He stops struggling and trying to twist out of your arms for a second. “You’ve got to, I have to do this, please.” his tone is so calm, so gentle. Jimin is smiling down at you when you pull back to look up at him. He gently but forcefully separates you from him, hands holding yours and prying them apart.

“I’ve got too much to make up for. You have to let me do this.”

You have a bad feeling about this, your instincts that you should listen to. Walking into this so soon after Jungkook’s seizure. Is this punishment for leaving him? Jimin slips from between your hands. Walking to his car, and you feel a lurching in your gut like something terrible is about to happen.

You say nothing, watching him, heart beating quick. but you are powerless to stop him, powerless to keep him from leaving.

You wonder if this is how Yoongi felt, leaving them. Powerless.

“You'll come back? you've got to- you can't-" you can't leave us is what you want to say. Standing on the steps of the house, Jimin by his car.

"I'd never dream of leaving you." Jimin says, swearing it. And all the fight goes out of your sails.

"Be careful Minnie.”

He looks back at you, hair ruffled by the wind. All the snow from the night before has melted but the cold will stay.

“Always am.”

You nod, giving him permission and Jimin gets in his car. You return inside where it’s warmer. And Jimin turns it on, but before he has a chance to pull away from the curb, his phone lights up with another notification.

Unknown (9:27): Make sure to wear your mask.

~-~

The location on his phone is a lot more desolate in person, the scrub brush that’s that's grown in is thick enough to hide his car. Green by the river and poisoned into sticks here. Jimin parks far away among the maze of what must be four-wheeler tracks and walks in. mask on and gun at the ready.

The rusted metal of the industrial park rises out of the soil and the fog. It has to have been abandoned for years given how poor of a condition it's in. There are a few half-fallen-down buildings and one big complicated warehouse flanked on one side by a wide and slow-moving river. The soil smells strongly of gasoline and rust. The soil here is probably soaked through with it. Jimin wonders if would burn and catch fire if a spark was lit.

The traditional mask fits snugly on Jimin’s face, the hole at the mouth just large enough for him to not feel like he’s suffocating. Eye holes are wide enough to see and not block his peripheries.

The doors are cracked and nearly rusted shut with age but Jimin slides through a crack easily. He’s a whole hour early on purpose. This is all by design, every moment of this. Every second is orchestrated like a symphony;

Jimin is the violin, with high and pointed movements, drawing his weapon like a cymbal. The crunch of his boots on the floor the drums, every breath a crooning saxophone. His thoughts flute spiraling up like high delights. All of this builds to one big crescendo.

He doesn’t take out his phone to check the time. The upstairs is mostly unlit but Jimin doesn't use a light, just lets his eyes adjust. He waits, stalking quietly, completely silent in his movements.

Jimin is not nervous about this handoff, mostly, he’s just wondering who it is in the family that's finally betraying her. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t suspect that the conditions of this were a little too perfect. Money and all.

The main atrium of the industrial park is rusted up with age. Old metal shipping containers that used to hold smelting equipment or maybe molten metal long since rusted out even though the chains still hang from the ceiling. A suspended catwalk rings the room on all sides.

Jimin spends a few minutes casing the place, noting the exits, and the obvious places to hide. The old rusty fans at the apex of the roof turn and squeak softly from the wind outside. The whole place smells like chemicals and rust. It's all Jimin can do not to have a coughing fit.

It’s a wonder he doesn’t smell the blood sooner

(Trust me, I speak from experience. if you spend enough time around blood that's not your own, you’ll eventually be able to smell it. Even a drop in an empty room. like a hound the the hunt. You'll smell it.)

Jimin is almost done with logging the entrance and exits when he finds the body.

He rushes to their side, Jimin doesn’t recognize their face when he slides whats left of the traditional mask off their face, it's the same as his. Racking his brain to recognize the face but nothing. the masks is broken into pieces. A bullet between the eyes is a good shot.

Before Jimin can do anything, can decide if this is a setup or just a meet-up gone wrong, He hears footsteps behind him.

~-~

In the wake of Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin leaving, the rest of the pack is a bit forlorn. Jungkook is not so mobile, not so willing to make the trek upstairs. Worried about the stairs and any sudden seizures and all. But there is no shortage of cuddle spots on the ground floor, you've made many a nest in the living room before.

And besides, in such proximity to the kitchen, Jungkook can have all his treats this way.

Lately, it’s started to feel like the pack has several nests, the one upstairs, the nesting pod, and the one on the old grey couch when you shove all the pieces together. Yoongi indulges jungkook in half a bar of dark chocolate while you get some nesting materials. Blankets and your wet cheeks catching the dimmed lights.

You’re a little pouty and a lot quiet, and the others take note of it. Skimming comforting hands up and down your shoulders, always touching you like they’re making sure you’re there. They don't ask why you're upset at Jimin leaving. They don't have to wonder. you snap the blanket as you fluff it huffing.

Jungkook finds your angry nestmaking cute. he pulls you down on top of him nipping at your throat when you fuss a little too long. Testing out Jin's method of settling on you.

It’s surprising even to you when the action sparks tears in your eyes, the opposite he was hoping for. You rub at your wet eyes with a clenched fist stubbornly. It’s not even noon yet and you’re already crying. You're so exhausted by everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours, so tired. You can't be blamed for getting a little teary-eyed.

Tae reappears, freshly showered. Her shoulder-length hair already starting to dry. tilting your face up to her's and says "Oh my little dove-

She piles into the nest and upstairs you hear Hobi moving around. tae stradles jungkook's thighs and shifts the two of you, lying you all flat,

"Don’t worry about Minnie, he’s always had something to prove.” You rub at your tears stubbornly, sniffling and nodding. Jungkook threads his fingers through the back of your hair, a little indelicately. But he loves without boundaries, like a butterfly flapping its wings for the first time.

“But why-” your words are quiet but broken, “why does he always feel so-"

“Guilty?” Tae finishes for you, looking out the window in the direction that Jimin disappeared. Humming as she strips you of Hobi's sweatshirt.

Hobi appears at the bottom of the stairs smiling. "Are we talking about Jimin's guilt complex again?"

Your mate groans and finishes putting together a little snack board. "I swear we've probably had this discussion like- fucking 20 times?" Yoongi's not wrong.

You only get more teared-eyed, crying a little bratty, thumping weakly against jungkook's chest, he grabs your thigh and pulls you snug across his lap. "But why! Why does he feel like everything is his fault?"

Tae hides her sad smile behind a hand, and you're less upset looking at it. Calmed in a second, because they have talked about this you realize, everyone in the pack is well aware.

“I guess he feels guilty because," Tae sighs, "because he was so loved.” Tae's fingers dance along Jungkook's thigh, and you're all quiet. everyone is quiet when they hear tae talk about jimin. it's a little like listening to someone describe what it feels like listening to your favorite song for the first time, what it's like to taste your favorite food, the feeling of a first kiss.

Hobi comes close to tae, sets down a shirt and a pair of pants. "would you get them into this while i shower?" the curtains are drawn and hobi goes upstairs and Tae undresses you while she speaks. You're a doll, teary eyed and willing as she and Jungkook strip you and put you in clean clothes. You didn't realize how much you needed to not smell like hospital until it's done.

"The first love you lose always hurts you the most, whether that's romantic love or parental love doesn't really matters. Each person metabolizes it differently. Truthfully, I believe that Jimin lost love the first time and promised himself- never again."

Tae talks, playing with Jungkook’s hair. He pouts “he's never gonna lose us.” Tae hums, agreeing. But you can see in her eyes the sadness there. Wounds that might never heal and wanting that might never fade.

Yoongi sits down beside you and together, the three of you undress and dress Jungkook. He could probably do it himself just like you could, but he's a willing puppet, happy when Tae tickles his tummy and slides his shirt over his head.

A minute later, Hobi's back, wet head that drips onto your cheek when he leans over Jungkook's curled form to grab one of the grapes on the snack board that Yoongi made. And Tae stares off into space, thinking of Jimin, how they met and how they feel in love, everything between then and now.

Tae smiles just thinking of him. "i know that pup, he just- he can't let himself believe it no matter how much he wants too. It was really hard on him, how our parents treated us, Jimin has guilt built into him because they made him that way."

It's too simple of an explanation for what they went through. What does it mean to love a parent that hates you? Or at least to have a parent that does not strive to understand you. How many times did the words linger on Tae’s lips? Standing in the doorway wearing a little boy jersey and little boy clothes, listening to his mother talk about the things on the news.

Wondering, Mom, would you give up God for me?

Tae rests her cheek on her hand. Her nail polish has gotten all chipped, maybe she picked at it nervously while you were at the hospital. She has a habit of picking at it when she needs something for her hands to do.

“If Jimin had a religion- it would be love. And every time he feels even a little bit like he's not loving us the way he should, he beats himself up for it and guilts himself into loving harder, loving better. He considers a lack of love the greatest crime. So yeah, feeling guilty is par for the course."

Jungkook groans, tipping his head back against the sofa, “I’ve told him, I’ve told him a million times-“

“Doesn’t matter” Hobi interrupts, “he still hates it when he’s not there when you have a seizure. He's upset with himself, that's why he left. Giving him more love when he feels like he doesn't deserve it is like his worst nightmare.”

You think of the explosion. Of Jimin pining your body and putting himself between you and the blast. Maybe with Jimin it's so instinctual it's not even a conscious decision. You wonder if it ever gets easy, to make the decision to sacrifice yourself for the people you love. Does that make Mimin feel like he deserves them more? the sacrifice?

You don’t know if it would be as innate with you, You might have to think it through for a few seconds.

You don't like that. You don't like realizing that you'd need to think through it however briefly. You fear a world in which you don’t love him as much as he loves you, in which any of this isn’t reciprocal.

(But then again, most recipes have twice as much sugar as butter.)

You melt against Hobi’s side. “He shouldn’t,” you say, feeling useless, a little quieter, a little bit more upset. “He shouldn’t feel guilty, he loves us enough!” Tae’s hand rests on your ankle, and her laugh strikes high and sad.

Outside a mourning dove coos, a lonely soft sound.

“Trust me, I’ve been trying to love Jimin more than he loves me for my whole life. He wants to win the 'I love you more' debate every time.”

~-~

The Industrial Park is different than Jin remembers.

It rises a little more jagged against the surrounding area of 3-meter-high brush that disguises a network of other dilapidated sheds and half flooded buildings. Jin recites what he knows about this place; the facts.

An iron processing plant, decimated by the flood of a nearby river 2 dozen years ago and bought through a shell corporation. Vacant land with so many entrances and exits. A veritable hotbed and the perfect body dumping site. construction on a housing development delayed on account of how expensive the environmental clean up.

He scans the building for red paint.

He can be forgiven for not seeing Jimin’s car, parked on the fringes. The opposite side from where Jin came in because Jin had to stop at the office first. Jin can be forgiven for having his blinders on, so focused with single-minded intent that he misses some of the signs. The smell of gasoline drowns out Jimin's vanilla scent.

Jin sees the fresh footprints in the dirt and draws his weapon.

That's the whole reason why it took him so long to get here, (why Jimin got here first even though he left second) He couldn't just go into an unknown setting alone unarmed, he'd had to stop back at the office to grab his vest and his FBI-issued firearm, a standard-issue Glock 17. Forghein and unwelcomed in his hands.

Even Jin will admit that he’s not the best marksman, (Jin had barely passed his exam a few years back, and continually has to study and practice for his re-certification every 6 months.) Jin does not prefer to be armed. If he wasn’t alone, if he didn’t go by himself for this, He might not have brought his weapon at all.

Jin enters through the front door; the old hanger doors are already open. Feet crunching on the gravel. Jin can feel his heartbeat in his fingers, how hard he’s holding the gun, he’s never had to discharge it during a field excursion before. How unbecoming of a director, how green of him. He lacks this experience.

The tip of the weapon shakes because he's holding it so hard. Jin feels like he can feel the breath of unseen eyes on the back of his neck. Someone is here, he knows it.

Jin walks into the atrium, gun at the ready, turning the corner when he sees them.

One masked man is bending over another a body, already strewn across the floor and dead. the man's mask litters the floor in red shards. Jin sees the gun in the living man's hands, gloved, Jin snaps his hand up and aims before he can really take in the details of the scene.

“Stop! FBI! Put your hands where I can see them!”

The man at the other end of the room tilts his head and does not speak, red mask flashing in the half-light. There is a single breath where the man does not move, just looks at Jin with that tilted face. silent. But then he takes off, running like his life depends on it. bolting down a corridor and out of range of Jin’s accuracy on the best of days.

Jin fires a shot and misses. It hits the metal wall with a loud clink and a bright spark, ricocheting off into space.

Jin curses and takes off after the killer, skidding in the dust and bashing into the wall, gun banning against the door with a loud metallic clang as he slides through it, running from hall to hall trying to get a good shot.

Every time Jin crests a turn and tries to aim, the man rounds another, darting through the maze of hallways and shipping containers.

Jin has longer legs and is taller and faster than his target. He catches up to them by the stairs, the man turns and hesitates again. If Jin were less adrenaline high he might already realize they've tucked their gun away.

“Stop or I’ll shoot!”

The criminal bolts up the stairs and Jin goes too. Up and up and up onto the catwalk. Feet clangs against the metal, the suspended walkway sways under the force of their steps, The chains clanking.

And then, at the very end, he stops.

Jimin turns, casting one glance back at him. And hesitates, the mask catches the light again. And Jimin reaches up, about to take it off. The words, "Stop baby it's me." Already hovering on the edge of his lips.

He never gets the chance to say them. Jin’s finger finds the trigger, and the gun fires in a gorgeous explosion of gunpowder and force. Fire made small, and love made lethal.

Jimin hits the wall from the force of the bullet, hitting the latch at the back of his head.

The mask falls off.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 every word helps motivate me to write the next chapter!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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~-~

Notes:

Everybody lives nobody dies.

Let me repeat that again NOBODY DIES, no one, not even Jimin. He’s just gonna be a little bloody from this, that’s all, before you get angry and yell at me.

I could have made this more convoluted, but I decided not too because…I simply did not want to stage a chapter between this one and the next one.

Jimin’s autistic meltdowns look a whole lot like mine do, I know they’re not typically what other people associate with meltdowns. But going nonverbal and stimming with your body (pacing) is very on par with me.

I felt like we needed to see a little bit of the jinmin dynamic before you know…Jin shoots him, just for funsies. And to talk about how Jimin loves.

A lot of people expressed a desire for Jimin to have some sort of concenquence for the way he treated Tae when she came out, just the part where he needed space, and for him not helping the m/c when he could have. I think this is his penance for that, getting shot by Jin, getting betrayed- however unintentionally- by someone he loves is the justice for those moments. I’ve always been stalwart on the fact that the bily charecters act sort of terribly sometimes because real people act terribly too, they’re dynamic in the way that they love and handle their actions.

On the subject of like- who framed what and explaining the events of the chapter, moonbyul and Hyejin are orchestrating everything. They pay Jimin MOSTLY because they know how suspicious it is and are trying to do anything they can to expose Jin to him. The scene in the industrial park goes exactly the way they wanted it too…accept that Jimin will live. They didn’t count on Jin being a poor shot lol

They are trying not only to manipulate the m/c away from the pack, but destabilize them to try and make the m/c come to them. Having one packmate kill another is definitely they way they wanted to do this. They’d 1000% just kill everyone if they thought that would give them the m/c but they’re attempting to manipulate her into coming to them rather than just abducting her point blank.

Funnily enough this is one cannon-cannon event of bily like, Jin was always going to shoot Jimin. If you go back and forth in other chapters you can see that Jin is almost constantly touching Jimin’s shoulder. It’s up to you if you think that Jin’s bullet got close enough to Jimin’s heart to kill him or if by some luck he survived

That’s a lie I can’t lie to you guys he’s 1000% going to live through this I can’t keep secrets from you guys, no one dies in this story even if it seems like they might at times we only have one more almost death to get through.

I feel like this chapter had less flowery language than my usual ones in part because it’s got a bit from Jin’s pov and also because everyone is so scared and frozen through the whole thing.

I cannot even begin to tell you how much less stressful the next chapter of bily is than my life, like i would rather GET SHOT AGAIN then be where i currently am, with the same level of anxiety that i have.

i wish i had time to edit this more but alas! its only 2 hours until i'll post this and i'm just finishing it up.

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cheri-2047 · 5 months ago

Note

Helloooo do you write for aventurine from hsr?

If you do, would it be possible to request an aventurine x gn reader where he tries to comfort the reader who has religious trauma? If that's a little too complicated then something like aven trying to comfort the reader when they were suddenly reminded about their trauma from parents.

I'm really just desperately trying to make myself feel better 😭 anw the decision is still up to you <3 I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope that you stay safe and healthy, take care!! 💞💐

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭 I LOST MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING 😞😞 I’d love to write this for you but I’m not so sure on what religious trauma is so I focused on reader getting triggered by their parents instead, I hope that’s okay. Please don’t hesitate to comment if I mischaracterized him, this is based off what I see online since I don’t play hsr, thank you!

Aventurine comfort:

TAGS: slight mentions of self harm, hair pulling (out of stress) angst, fluff and comfort at the end

CHARACTERS: Aventurine

You were on your way home after meeting up with your parents. It’s been awhile since you last saw them so you thought you’d pay them a visit.

They welcomed you with open arms and were very glad that you came over, your mother excitedly sharing new stories of what’s happened while you moved away and your father just simply listening to you two.

Everything was smooth sailing, you had fun with them, sharing laughs and all until it all went down the drain.

“haha…” you chuckled it off. You hated hearing about the incident that had happened. Your parents brushed it off by now as a joke, but to you it was anything BUT that.

you continued to catch up to them, holding up a smile to get away the memories that ran through your brain.

stop stop stop

You clenched your hands tightly, continuing to laugh along with the “jokes” your parents made. You couldn’t stop thinking about it now, everything that happened, everything that you worked so hard to forget, all of it GONE just because of a few simple words.

“I might be home a bit late sweetheart, please don’t stay up waiting for me. Love you”

Your phone buzzed, a message from your boyfriend, Aventurine.

perfect.

You took this to your advantage, deciding it was a good excuse.

“Ah I need to go home, sorry mama, urgent things at work.”

You made a white lie. You knew it was a bad thing to lie, it would make you a sinner, but you would do anything right now to get away from that so called ‘home’

“I hope you visit again, we love you”

Your father kissed you on the forehead, before both waving off.

You quickly shuffled to your car, driving as fast as you can away from your parent’s home. You were thankful for your boyfriend’s text, not only can you have alone time but you also were able to lie with getting home.

You drove faster, the music louder, anything to try and get the flooding memories away. You clenched the wheel tightly, taking rough turns, completely ignoring your surroundings.

shut up shut up shut up shut up

please.

You reached your home, running to your bedroom, your safe place.

You opened the television, had your snacks around you and all but for some reason, nothing would work. The thoughts still lingered at the back of your mind, the unspoken memories, the things you’ve tried to hard to forget.

Little did you know, you ended up spiraling. Your eyes on the TV, your mind elsewhere. It all came back too quickly, too much for you, the way you were treated, the rules you were forced to have, the life you so desperately wanted to escape, and it felt like you were back. “…y/n… y/n? Hey hey-“

you got started by the sound, only to realize you had been pulling your hair a lot,

“ah- y-you’re back earl-“

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, Aventurine pulled your hands away from your hair,

“Shh, shh… there there”

he rubbed his hand on your back, you leaned into his touch, before looking down to see blood on your fingernails. “What happened?”

Aventurine pulled away, cupping your cheeks and rubbing your hand, careful not to touch the skin you picked.

You didn’t even notice it, but you were crying. You had tears run down your face as if your eyes were waterfalls.

“I visited my parents today”

“mh…did they do anything?”

“they just…mentioned something and I got triggered and started spiraling I guess…”

as you spoke, aventurine started to wrap some bandages around your fingers.

“What did they say?”

(cutting this part off here so you can like…. Explain to him ykyk. He doesn’t know much of your trauma so u explain that you went through that before)

“Oh sweetheart…”

he wiped your tears and kissed you on the cheek, before hugging you and hurrying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know that’s ever happened, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to remember…”

he frowned and pulled you closer,

“I’m sorry…. If you’re up to going to your parents again, I’ll be here to accompany you. If you don’t, then that’s alright, I understand.”

he kisses the top of your head multiple times, hoping to sooth you with his affection.

He intertwined his hand with yours as he continues to speak reassuring words. “I am always here for you, alright my dearest? If you feel triggered by anything ever again, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I’m never ‘too busy’ for you or any of that. I love you”

you smile as he tells you how he has your back and how he will never leave and swear to always protect you. As you stop crying, he starts to clean up the snacks you left and comes back with more of your favorite foods.

“I got some before I left work”

he chuckles, lying next to you on the bed as you two stayed in the comfort of each others arms.

“I love you, I always will and I will never stop.”

He presses a kiss to your lips, pulling away to see your smile, which makes him smile as well.

A/N: OKAY… so I tried to make it like him as much as I could, I think he’s the type to gen take things seriously in scenarios like this, and the part where he like… pushes(?) your head to his neck for comfort, that means a lot since I hc him to not like being touched there or anyone touching him there either, so yeah. Thanks for requesting and I hope this is ok!! Comments are appreciated (for tips, if I mischaracterized or just to say hi) I hope ure okay dude, if you want more of these feel free to request

#Hsr #star rail #x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #Fluff #headcanons #aventurine fluff #Hsr x reader #Star rail x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine hsr

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simping4-2manyppl · 1 year ago

Note

is it okay if u do a Tom x reader with an Ed (so sorry if you are uncomfy with this ❕️❕️🤍🤍🤍)

Tom Kaulitz 🎸

Ofcc i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼 i dont know much about ed’s but im going to try my best 💗 if this triggers you in any type of way please contact me! Or if i did anything wrong, I absolutely mean no harm and i will fix my mistakes.

TW! ⚠️

Contains ED! And other possible sensitive topics!! Angst! I honestly dont know if i wrote about an ED cause im not very educated on it so im sorry if its not correct!

You woke up rubbing your eyes, seeing yourself in the mirror that stood infront of you. You stood up from your bed and walked infront of the mirror frowning as you pointed out all of your insecurities and picking at them.

You bit your lip as tears formed in your eyes, “Why me?” You thought, a knock on the door interrupting your thoughts.

“Y/n! You awake?” You heard, it was tom. Your best friend, he usually checked up on you to see if you were awake, since most days youd sleep almost all day.

“Yeah!” You replied, looking away from the mirror and getting dressed. You were going to go with the band someplace, it was probably an interview or something like that.

You werent apart of the band but youd usually tag along with them since you were one of their closest friends.

You picked out some baggy clothes that hid some of your insecurities perfectly. Once you finished you walked out of your room as your eyes met with toms.

“Tryna copy my style today?” He said, in a joking way. “You stole this outfit idea from me!” You said rolling your eyes playfully.

“Sureee.” He said as you both laughed and you made your way downstairs to the kitchen.

“Good Morning!” You heard bill say, “Morning!” You said with a smile on your face, you didnt want to bring the others moods down just because you werent feeling the best, so you tried to put on a big smile and pretended to look as happy as possible.

“You coming with us again today?” Bill said, munching on something he probably found in the pantry.

“You know it, gotta support my favorite boys!” You said giving him a small wink. He laughed and nodded.

You made your way to the living room as you saw gustav and georg searching for something, “Morningg, you guys need help with anything?” You said raising your eyebrow.

They looked at you and smiled, “no thanks, we got it!” you nodded and walked over to the couch, sitting down.

If you were being honest, you were so tired, and hungry. But no matter how hard you tried you just couldnt eat food without throwing it right back up.

This habit of not eating started a while ago but you were too afraid to open up to anyone and talk about it, assuming your friends would judge you because the real reason of why was because you had a crush on tom, but you knew he only saw you in a friendly way. And his type was beautiful gorgeous girls with the perfect bodys. Something you couldnt relate to. So you kept it a secret, but it would hurt you every time you saw tom with one of his girlfriends or heard them at night.

It took a big toll on your mental health and sleep, most days you felt like a zombie, not being able to sleep and just wanting to be away from everyone, but you tried to be positive in front of your friends so you wouldn’t worry them.

___

Time Skip

___

You waited for the band in the back as they were doing a small interview, once it was over with you could hear the screams of the fans and them yelling all sorts of things.

Of course some were about tom, you then saw as they stood up to greet some of the fans and saw him talking to some girl, you knew you shouldnt have gotten jealous but you could help it.

She was perfect, and tom had looked like he just fell inlove, of course you knew he just wanted her for one night but it still hurt to see him being all flirty with her. You didnt know why but seeing him with her bothered you so much and you just couldnt figure out why, she sure was beautiful but hes been with alot of girls and none of them bothered you as much.

You sighed and looked at yourself, comparing yourself to her and immediately feeling sick. Oh how you wished you looked like her.

You waited for a bit until everyone got back, so you just decided to stay quiet and keep on going with your day.

Once you got home you locked yourself in your room, immediately plopping yourself into your bed, sighing and closing your eyes.

You eventually fell asleep but would wake up throughout the night hearing the one thing you didnt want to hear, a girl in your best friends room. Basically screaming her lungs out.

You decided to sleep in, not wanting to do anything as your energy just kept getting lower and lower by the days.

Ag some point throughout the day you heard knocks on the door asking if you were alright or going with them some place and you just tried to ignore them but gave them short replies not really wanting to talk.

A few days of you being like this everyone decided to talk to you, it wasnt normal for you to be acting like this. Tom was the first one that knocked ti check in with you as always but you just groaned and complained that you were just tired.

He decided to leave you alone amd when you heard another knock it was gustav this time.

“Hey ___, you okay?” he said in a soft voice, “yes gus, im okay! Just tired.” You said yelling and laying your head down on your pillow.

“You havent came out at all, can i come in? Please?” He said, his voice sounding sad.

You sighed and bit your lip, “going..” you said and walked up to your door, unlocking it and letting him in.

You closed it quickly as you didnt want anyone else to come in.

You turned around and faced him, “What gus?” you said, “I jus- Oh my god, are you okay?!” He said as he fully saw your face, the dark circles under you eyes fully taking over your face and you skin looker paler than ever.

He had a worried look on his face as he looked at you, analyzing your whole face. “Im fine! Im just extremely tired gus.” You said sighing.

“No! You’re not okay, you look skinnier and more tired, like a literal zombie ___! Whats going on?” He said, as he got even more worried.

Your eyes started tearing up and before you knew it you started bawling your eyes out like a baby.

“I just cant do it anymore gus, im in love with tom! you know how much it hurts to hear him flirt and see all those girls with him? It hurts so fucking much gustav.” You said, as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Oh god, im sorry ___, But maybe he loves you too! I mean have you seen the way he looks at you?” he said trying to calm you down a bit.

“No gus, he likes those other gorgeous skinny perfect girls, i cant compare to that. He only sees me as a friend.” You said, sobbing.

“Thats not true ___! Youre so Beautiful and perfect to all of us! Please dont be starving youself and making changes to yourself just cause you think you arent pretty cause you are ___!! Probably one of the prettiest girls i have ever seen in my entire life!” He said hugging you even tighter as you just cried onto his shoulder.

You lift you head off his shoulder, looking into his eyes as you sniffled, “ you really mean that?” You said biting your lip so the tears would stop flowing out.

“Yes! Ask anyone! And its not just because we are your friends! Its true ___, i dont know how you dont see it.” He said with a frown on his face.

“Then why not me?” You said, your lip quivering. “Im sorry ___, hes just not looking in the right places, cause he has an amazing girl right infront of him.” He said pulling you into a deeper hug.

After that day youd only really talk to gustav, letting him in your room and talking with him, but one day he left and you heard a knock which you assumed was just him coming back fr something he mustve forgotten, but you were wrong.

“oh my god.. ___..” Tom said staring at you in disbelief as you had the door wide open. “Tom?..” you said quietly, “are you okay? Ive been so worried, oh gosh, you look so..” he said as he stood closer placing his hands on your cheeks, analyzing your face even more.

You know you looked more tired than usual but you were just drained from all the nights of you crying, and well you havent ate something in quite a while either.

As much as gustav would try to get you to eat you refused, but would lie to him saying you ate so he wouldnt worry too much.

“Whats going on ___?” He said biting his lip, “nothing tom. Now i want to be alone can you please go?” You said looking away from him as the eye contact was starting to get unbearable.

“Not until you tell me whats going on.” He said firmly, you started getting angry and pushed him out. “ i dont want to talk right now!” You said slamming the door shut and locking it.

You felt bad but why couldnt he just leave you alone, you wanted to get rid of your crush on him so things could go back to normal but it was so hard.

You sighed and opened the door seeing him looking down, “im sorry..” you said your head hanging low as you started to feel guilty for the way you were acting towards him.

“___ you’re my best friend, im worried about you.. can we please just hang out together or something? I miss you.” He said staring at you.

You could feel the way his eyes looked at you causing you ti loft your head up and you nodded as you met his eyes.

“Yeah, i guess..” you said putting your hand on your shoulder, not knowing what to do.

“Lets get snacks and watch our favorite movie no? Maybe that can help you feel a bit better..” he said, giving you a small smile.

“I- i guess..” you said, and walked over with him. Once you retrieved the snacks you went over to the living room and sat down as he put on your guys favorite movie.

“Alright, lets eat!” He said, “im actually not hungry right now, maybe a little later.” You said, pushing the snacks away from you.

“… if you say so.” He said slightly frowning and playing the movie.

You eventually drifted off to sleep in his shoulder and once you woke up you saw him already staring at you.

“Rise and shine princess.” He said, chuckling. God, why did he have to make this worse for you..

“Sorry, i didnt mean to fall asleep, i guess i was just tired.” You said, yawning.

“Its alright, im just glad you’re here with me.” He said smiling at you.

You bit your lip, “i should go to bed now.. Ill see you tomorrow yeah?” You said getting up from the couch.

“Oh.. yeah okay, ill see you tomorrow then?” He said looking at you with pleading eyes, hoping youd say yes.

“Yeah.. maybe, goodnight tom.” You said, “goodnight ___, love you.” He said and you just gave him a small smile and walked back upstairs to your room. You laid down in bed and sighed, shutting your eyes to drift off to sleep.

After a couple of weeks youd start hanging out more with the band again and mostly tom but as you sat down in the kitchen stool you felt someone come behind you.

“I brought you something to eat.” He said, placing a takeout box in front of you.

“Im not hungry right now, but thanks tom.” You said pushing it away, and giving him a small smile.

He sat next to you and sighed, “___, you’re never hungry.” He said, “im just not tom, i already ate.” You said wanting to stop talking.

“You dont have to lie to me! Im your best friend, plus youve been in your room like alllllll day. I havent seen you come down or anything to eat ___. So please eat.” He said pushing the food closer to you.

“Tom i said im not hungry!” You said, frustrated.

“___, whats going on. I know you havent been eating, i can tell! and when you do you take the smallest bites ever! and never finish it and say youre full. Why are you doing this to yourself ___?!” He said standing up now.

Your eyes got teary, “because im not skinny or pretty or … anything tom!” You said starting to break down into tears.

He looked at you shocked, “___… why do you say that? You are pretty! im looking at you and you are of the most perfect girls ive ever seen.” He said as his eyes started to get soft and teary.

“Then why dont you like me? If im so perfect why dont you like me tom?” You said full on bawling.

“W-What?” He said, shocked and confused.

“I love you tom. I like you.. but ive never been perfect like those other girls that you are always with, i cant compare to them. They have model bodies and beautiful faces, and i dont. I thought maybe if i stopped eating it would just fix all of my problems, but it only made them worse.” You said, in between sobs.

He immediately wrapped his arms around you, “y/n, i do love you. Ive always have. I thought you didnt like me so i distracted myself with other girls to get over my feelings for you, i didnt wanna ruin the friendship that we had. I thought you hated me.. when you started ignoring me ___..” he said, starting to cry.

You stopped crying as you were in shock, not expecting him to say those things. “Tom.. i could never hate you, i just wanted to distance myself so i could get over you, it hurt seeing you with other girls, i also didnt know you liked me..” you said staring at him, “please dont cry..” you said, placing your hands on his cheeks.

“___ please promise me you wont do this again, please try to eat, i know itll take some time but please ___.” He said, looking into your eyes.

You nodded, “ill try tom, i really will.. im sorry.” You said, “no i am, i really do love you ___.” He said as he started leaning in closer to you, “i do too tom..” you said, your faces inches apart.

He finally closed the gap between you two, softly placing a gentle kiss on your lips. He moved his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Once you departed he gave you a small kiss on your nose and smiled at you, you smiled back at him and blushed.

“Now lets get you something to eat, yeah? Then we can focus on everything else after meine liebe.” he said, placing another small kiss on your lips then grabbing the food as he helped you eat, even if they were small bites he still helped by giving you small praises.

And this was why you fell in love with him..

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz fluff

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cupcakeslushie · 1 year ago

Note

Okay. I've been tip-toeing around this AU for a while now, but I just got caught up, and now I think I have a (decent) grasp on what's going on. So I wanna go over everything I know so far to see if I'm right or wrong on anything. Don't know if you'd be willing to correct me or not. Either way, I hope my mistakes can help you understand what to clarify to other fans like me. But, I also have some questions. You probably won't be able to answer most of them, but it's at least worth a shot.

First, where's Venus? Like, why is she not in your comics that are (sort of) separate frome the canon now story. The ones that skip to the future way after all the turtles reunite. Did she die? Did she escape? Is it because she wasn't introduced yet when you made those comics?

Two, why do you keep on making references to the future timeline? I know you're planning on possibly making your own stuff leading up to the events of the movie. It just gives me a jumpscare when I see certain...imagery in those comics. I guess you're hinting at what your version of the future apocalypse would look like, but it just hurts to see. Specifically in the comic explaining both the events and aftermath of the movie and the bad future timeline. It's starting to really confuse my brain as to where this story is headed. What's meant to be the main focus? The Hamto's reuniting? The aftermath? Or the future?

Third, did you make all those min-comics before you started the actual AU? Or did you do them during?

Fourth, are any of those mini-comics relevant to the actual story now? Or have you changed your mind on a few things? It's just that everything is so all over the place, I don't really know whether to trust if they're accurate. I know most of them are just there for funzies, but the longer ones concern me. I guess I'm just not used to the storyteller doing sequel, start, prequel, start, sequel, prequel, prequel, sequel, and then end. Or maybe it's just me, and I'm sleep deprived.

My little observation speech is gonna take a while for me to get out in your asks because when I get theoretical, my speech gets long, and my proper English goes down the drain. So I'll be back. I appreciate your work very much. Despite the pain it causes me, it's still amazing.

I’ll try my best to clear up what confusion I can!

1. As far as Venus. The answer is kind of a mix of, I was still figuring out her design and backstory while coming out with some of those early comics, and then, once I had that down, I wanted the boys to grow strong bonds as a main cast. That’s why a lot of the side characters are only making small appearances in the Sep!AU Life stories, as those are mainly for the boys reconnecting. (Usagi shows up the most because I love him and am totally biased towards him).

This maybe hasn’t been stated outright, but I wasn’t really expecting so many ppl to like Vee as much as they do, and now im trying not to spoil too much of her story. It’ll unfortunately just take us a while to get to the meat of it. Since the boys reconnecting takes up a lot of the early s1s2 story, Im trying to follow the familiar Rise blueprint of Draxum, Shredder, Krang, and then in s3 we’ll have crazy fun new stories with the extra characters.

Ive also decided to take this little nugget from one of the Q&As, and use it for Venus instead of Jennika. It was a much needed bit of inspiration to explain why Venus sorta disappears for a while and will go through some major physical changes (not yet revealed) before the family can figure out a way to reach her.

2. I’m not sure if you mean jump scared in a bad/triggering or neutral way, but if you need me to tag anything on those posts please let me know!

The glimpses of the future timeline, are being scattered throughout wherever they parallel the present story in little ways, but that’s only for now. As we get closer to the movie plot, bigger chunks of the future will be revealed, because the future versions of the boys will have a larger role to play in the present timeline. So we will need more backstory than what the canon got. And also I just enjoy drawing my future versions so sometimes I don’t think too hard on a reason. I just like throwing them at ppl with no warning or reason.

When s2 ends, I plan on collecting all the future related stuff that’s been released, and recapping it for easier reading. Right now, it’s just little sprinkles of foreshadowing to give ppl an idea that, ‘oh crap. The doomed timeline is a bummer’. In my mind, I guess i thought it’d be kinda like a fun scavenger hunt for clues, but maybe ppl don’t like that 😅

3. All of the side-stories were written as the main comic was/is being released. A lot of them resulted from asks that just spawned the need to expand on certain ideas, or a desire to give all the turtles their time to shine.

For instance, when I was doing Donnie’s section of the main comic, it was a good few months where we hardly saw anyone but him and Venus. I wanted to just mix it up, and give Raph some love with his ‘Raph Time’ short. When Leo was front and center in the main, we hardly saw the others, so Mikey and Donnie got their little ‘Secrets’ short (and it was also I fun thank you for EW making it so far in the tmnt sep competition).

4. Anything that has been reworked/revised or just plain dropped should have an ‘Edit’ note because yes—I have gone back and changed some things, but more so from the asks i got in the early days, and some movie idea drafts.

All the short comics done in the last year, especially the ones that are listed in my pinned post, are canon and fall somewhere in the timeline. They’re like supplemental reading though—extra meat to give the world and the characters more personality. They do have particular backstory plot and important info in them, but nothing that shouldn’t eventually be re-visited/repeated in the main story.

um I hope that cleared up some things! I know it’s kind of a crazy amount of lore. I’ve tried my best to organize it in the pinned post, huge timeline, and search bar tags, but I know it’s getting harder and harder for newer ppl to jump in as it just get bigger. Thanks for reading regardless!

#rottmnt #tmnt #ask slushie #separated au #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt separated au #sep!au infodump #ew au #Empyrean Weeping Au

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bwabys-scenarios · 1 year ago

Text

Fixer Upper

Part 11

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

part 10

part 12

warning: reader is kinda in a bad place 😭 so if that seems like it could be triggering for you, you may not want to stick around for future chapters. because there are some sad reveals later on :(

taglist: @fabitheraven @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lemonslut @homeinmydreams @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @monainanuttshell @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na

If you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

If you like my writing, come join my discord!! we watch HXH, play games, and spend all night writing sometimes!! there’s also lots of content there that I may never post here!!

BEFORE THE HUNTER EXAM

(Name) pulled her cover off and placed her sock covered feet on the cold floor. It was another sleepy Tuesday morning, the sun shining onto her messy bed.

Her legs were still tired from her long walk from her campus yesterday. She yawned into her hand as she poured her coffee into the cat paw patterned cup her little brothers gave her for her birthday.

(Name) sipped slowly. The cheap store brand coffee wasn’t amazing, but it was better than nothing. She glanced at her phone to see a missed call from her mother.

‘She never calls. Must of heard of the news from school…’

She pressed call, waiting a few seconds before her mother picked up.

“You idiot, I can’t believe you dropped out! After all the money your dad and I-“

“I’ve already sent a check reimbursing you for the classes you paid for.”

Her mother gasped. “You disrespectful little… I hope you know we’ll be cutting you off for this. We already had low expectations for you, and you couldn’t even meet those. What a useless girl you are.”

(Name) sighed. ‘Cut me off? Not like you were supporting me much anyways.’

She looked around her crappy apartment with a sigh.

“And you’re taking the Hunter Exam. Well good for you. You gave up being a nurse to take the most dangerous test in the world. How smart of you.”

Sarcasm and hate dripped off of her voice like venom. (Name) didn’t respond. She was used to this by now, only sighing.

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

Her mother was quiet for a moment.

“No. In fact, I wanted to let you know that any further contact from you will be considered harassment. You will not be contacting any members of our family after this call.”

(Name)’s eyes widened, her cup slipping to the floor. “Wait, you don’t mean-“

“Yes. You will not be able to see your brothers. Ever again.”

She hung up the phone. (Name) stared down at the shattered cup before quickly trying to call her mother back.

“Please, pick up mom… not my brothers. You can’t take them from me!!”

But she didn’t answer, and soon she wasn’t able to call her at all.

‘Must of blocked me…’

She sat down, not caring about the coffee that had splashed on her legs and began to burn her skin. (Name) could only stare down at the shards of the only gift she had from her brothers.

(Name) glanced at the Hunter Exam application, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

‘Why not, not like I have anything to lose.’

The next few months (Name) went about life in a blur. She trained for the exam, slowly distancing herself from the small acquaintances she had from college, and breaking her lease.

She packed her backpack the night before the exam, placing several pairs of outfits, some canteens of water, food, other various items, and a dagger.

It was enough to be a good weight against her back, but not too heavy to make running or climbing difficult.

The last thing she packed into her bag was an envelope, carrying a letter.

“…”

She stared at the letter for a moment before stuffing it into the bottom of her bag, where it would be safe. It was the most important item in there, after all.

And she didn’t want anyone to read it until the time came.

———————

The first few trials of the exam had been hard, but she’d managed to scrape through and finally arrive where the First Phase would be held.

(Name) held onto one strap of her backpack quietly. Her navigator had been a bit worried for her, asking if she was okay.

“Yes, I’m alright. Just nervous I guess.”

The navigator nodded slowly. “I see. I think you’ll do well, dear, and if you don’t there’s always next year! I’ll see you then, yeah?”

(Name) looked down at her feet, not answering the woman. The navigator sighed before smiling.

“Good luck, I hope you pass!”

(Name) gave her a small smile back, waving as the doors closed and she began to descend. Her heart began to race. So far, she’d only met a few other Hunter applicants, all of them unkind. She was beginning to lose hope that she’d be able to make any type of alliances.

Not that she cared all that much. She didn’t think she’d be passing anyways.

Or surviving.

She looked down at the badge the navigator had given her.

‘#406. That must mean there are over 400 other applicants. Great.’

The doors opened up and (Name) walked out. Heads turned to stare at her, a few whistles and nods of approval could he heard and seen.

It wasn’t unexpected to (Name). After all, she was wearing a short white tennis skirt, and a pink cardigan over a white undershirt. Out of everyone else in sight, she seemed to be the only one dressed in such a way.

(Name) sighed as she joined the crowd. She looked around, her eyes glancing between each applicant before she spotted someone.

‘Oh thank god.’

She ran forward and grabbed onto a blonde woman’s sleeve, tugging it lightly.

“Hey there! I’m so glad I’m not the only woman here. Would you like to team up? Girls supporting girls and all?”

The blonde turned to her and blinked, tilting her head.

“Oh, um… you can join us, but…”

She blushed lightly, obviously embarrassed.

“I’m not a girl.”

(Name) tilted her head as the person next to the blonde bursted into laughter.

The blonde scowled and turned to the man. “And what is so funny, Leorio?”

The man, supposedly named Leorio, continued laughing. “Th-the first girl we meet and she thinks you’re a girl too! This is priceless!”

(Name) tightened her grip on the straps of her backpack. “I apologize. You’re just so pretty, I thought you were a girl.”

Yet again, the blonde blushed. “It’s alright, I promise. You said you were looking for someone to team up with, correct?”

She nodded as Leorio’s laughter died down. “Well you can stay with us. I’m not sure if we’ll be together the entire exam, but you’re welcome to tag along.”

“I sure wouldn’t mind a pretty little lady like you being on my t-“

The blonde hit him over the head with some sheathed weapon. “Ouch, Kurapika what was that for?”

The boy called Kurapika huffed. “I won’t have you being a creep to our new comrade. It’s disgraceful.”

“New comrade?”

A boy, who looked no older than twelve approached the group. “Oh, Gon! This girl asked to join up with us.”

(Name) waved at him. “Hello, I’m (Name).”

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

Leorio grabbed her hand with both of his and shook it. “Welcome to the team!”

She shook hands with the others as well, looking away shyly when her hand touched Kurapika’s.

‘He really is pretty…’

Kurapika smiled. “I bet the exam has been full of trials, did you come here alone?”

“Yes, the only other applicants I’ve met have tried tricking or hurting me into failing. I’m glad I’ve finally met some nice people.”

Kurapika’s face shifted into a grimace. “That’s deplorable. But I guess it’s to be expected. The applicants could be anyone, meaning there’s bound to be bad people.”

(Name) sighed, pulling out a water canteen from her bag and sipping on it. “Any idea on what the first phase will be?”

When she caught Gon staring at the canteen, she offered it to him. He took it with a smile. Everyone took a sip before handing it back to (Name).

“I see you’ve come prepared. If you don’t mind me asking, what else do you have in your backpack?”

She frowned slightly but pulled it over her shoulder and into her hands. “Not a ton of things, but I have some snacks and water, along with a few different outfits.”

Kurapika blinked. ‘Oh, I guess different outfits would be important to a woman.’

She offered the three some hard candy, which Gon and Kurapika took. As they waited for the phase to begin, they chatted amongst themselves to get to know each other.

“You dropped out of medical school!?”

Leorio seemed almost angry, but was calmed down when he saw the sad look on her face.

“Yes, I did. It’s not that I don’t want to go, I just… I didn’t really have a choice in what I was studying. I decided to take the Hunter Exam on a whim, really. I…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, quickly smiling to hide that she almost let her secret spill.

“I’m excited to succeed!”

Leorio’s eyes softened. She was hiding something, but he could tell it wasn’t sinister. It was more for their sake then her’s.

“I hope you do.”

———————

A sharp ringing sounded throughout the large room. A man named Tonpa had walked over and talked to the group a bit, (Name) not paying him much attention. She was much too busy chatting with Kurapika, who seemed happy to share his experience with the exam with her.

The group looked up to see a man with short purple hair and a curly mustache standing before them, holding the ringing alarm. He stopped it before speaking.

“As of this moment the exam is closed to any further applicants. I would like to officially welcome everyone here to the Hunter Exam.”

Gon grinned. “Alright, finally, it’s gonna get started!”

“Aw man, I can’t believe I’m getting nervous.” Leorio said, loosening his tie.

“Come with me. Let me take a moment to remind you all that the Hunter Exam is extremely demanding. If you’re unprepared or unlucky, you may well be injured or killed. If you are alright with accepting those risks, then you may continue following me.”

The group followed after him, (Name) sticking by Kurapika. He may not be a girl, but out of all of them he seemed the most trustworthy and reliable.

“Very well then. The number of applicants is 405. At least for now.”

(Name) thought back to when Hisoka had taken one of the applicants out, holding the straps to her backpack a little tighter as she walked.

Leorio glanced around the crowd. “I guess I should have expected it, but no one’s backed out yet. I hoped there might be a few.”

(Name) hummed. “If they’ve made it this far, I doubt they’ll be backing out anytime soon.”

Kurapika nodded. “Yes, I agree. Just the path to the Hunter exam is full of trials and tribulations that would make ordinary men- oh and women, give up.”

(Name) suppressed a giggle. “Mhm.”

The people in the front began to speed up. “Hey, he’s picking up the pace!” Kurapika said with a frown.

“Sorry for the delay, but allow me to introduce myself. I’m Satotz, the examiner for the First Phase. I’m also the one that’s leading you to the sight for the Second Phase. Some of you may have already realized that keeping up with me until we reach the Second Phase is in fact, the First Phase.”

Their light jog turned into a run, and thirty minutes passed with no change in pace.

(Name) sighed lightly as she kept pace with the group, having to hold a hand over her chest to keep it from bouncing too much. ‘Went through the trouble of wearing two sports bras for no change in the outcome. Annoying.’

(Name) paid no attention to Tonpa explaining that this phase was not only a physical test, but a psychological one. She didn’t really care, (Name) was too busy focusing on her breathing and heavy backpack.

A boy came racing in between them riding a skateboard. (Name) glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

“Wow, that’s cool!” Gon called with a smile.

“Hey, kid on the skateboard, that’s not fair! You’re cheating!”

(Name) hummed and ran a bit ahead. She didn’t really feel like hearing Leorio harass a random kid. Kurapika watched her for a moment before following behind her.

“Sorry, he can be a bit annoying sometimes.”

Kurapika gave her a small smile, running beside her. (Name) shook her head. “No reason to be sorry. I’m just… not in the mood to hear someone yelling right now.”

“Hmm, that’s fair. Leorio can be pretty loud and obnoxious.”

(Name) hummed. “I happen to usually like loud and obnoxious people I’ll have you know. It’s just hard to to tolerate when I’m already tired from running.”

They both laughed. (Name) reached into her backpack and pulled out her canteen. “You thirsty? It’s been thirty minutes.”

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Kurapika took a drink before he handed it back. The girl immediately shoved it back into her bag, Kurapika raising an eyebrow.

‘Why did she take it out if not to take a sip for herself?’

He didn’t voice this question, instead focusing on his legs, willing them forward.

“So, Kurapika, how old are you?”

The blonde tilted his head. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged, shouldering her backpack again. “Just curious. If you want to know, I’m 18 myself.”

“17, 18 in April.”

(Name) nodded. ‘So we’re about the same age. Interesting…’

“And apparently Leorio is 19.”

“19!? He certainly doesn’t look the part.”

The two laughed again, (Name) nearly tripping, but quickly being steadied by Kurapika.

“Woah there, watch where you step. It is dark in here.”

(Name) nodded, lightly flustered from his grasp on her wrist. He let go quickly, seemingly unfazed by the physical contact.

3 hours pass by, and (Name) was beginning to get tired. The group stopped when Leorio collapsed, (Name) immediately rushing to his side. She dropped next to him, patting his back and offering him some water.

“Leorio!” Gon began running to join Leorio when the white haired boy, Killua called out to him.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? He’s finished, so just leave him behind.”

Gon frowned. “Come on, you don’t know that! Besides I can’t just leave him here, he’s my friend!”

“Friend?”

“Uh huh. That’s what I said.”

After chugging the rest of the water from one of her canteens, Leorio began to stand. “I’m not giving up… I came here to become a Hunter and that’s what I’m gonna do!”

(Name) watched as he rushed forward, Tonpa sighing.

“Hey take it easy, you need a break.”

“Shut up! If you’re just gonna stand around here, I’ll leave you… in my dust… hah hah… aww great, my legs won’t move.”

(Name) walked forward and handed him a handkerchief to wipe his sweat away with. Kurapika watched this interaction, his eyes watching her face twist into concern for a man she’d just met.

“So you’re not just in it for the money.”

Leorio huffed. “No, it’s all about money. There’s no other reason…”

“We don’t have time to argue about this. What do you think we should do now, Tonpa?”

(Name) stood up straight again, stretching lightly.

“Hmmm, wait a sec, that smell! Do ya remember? There was a sweet smell from that tunnel. Hey, I think it might help you recuperate!”

“What?”

“I thought I recognize that smell, I think it’s the sap of the healing cedar tree!” Tonpa exclaimed.

“Healing cedar?”

“Yeah! The sap is used by Hunters who often become exhausted in the forest. All you have to do is smell the aroma for a while and you can recover and keep on going.”

Kurapika stopped Tonpa from carrying Leorio away. “Wait a minute, it could be a trap.”

“Maybe, but we can’t just leave him behind now, can we? It’s a chance we’re gonna have to take.”

The blonde frowned. “Yes, but…”

“I’m king of the flunkies. You wanna know why I failed the exam 34 times? I’m a sucker for anyone that needs my help.”

(Name) raised an eyebrow at this. She glanced between Leorio and Tonpa.

“It’s okay. As soon as Leorio recovers, we’ll catch up to you, I promise.”

“I’m sorry, Tonpa… Gon, Kurapika, (Name), don’t worry about me. Go for it!”

(Name) crouched down and rearranged her backpack as the others spoke, then stood as they began to leave, watching Leorio carry him away with a suspicious look.

‘Don’t trust him one bit.’ She thought.

“What are you doing, are you coming or not?”

“Oh yeah, sorry to keep you waiting. You can go on ahead.”

Killua tilted his head. “You mean you’re not going to keep going?”

“Yeah, not unless it’s with Leorio.”

(Name) nodded. “Me either. I’m still worried for him, he wasn’t doing too hot…”

Both Gon and Kurapika noticed her staring into the distance, clutching her cardigan tightly.

“Kurapika, I’m going to see how they’re doing. Tonpa said they’d be okay, but I’m still worried.”

“I’ll come with you. We can always catch up to the group later on.”

Gon nodded towards Killua. “Alright, we’ll be back. Then, if you want, you can tell me your name. Because I still don’t know what it is.”

Kurapika glanced at (Name). “Will you be coming as well?”

She gave him a quick nod. “Of course. I can’t just abandon someone in need.”

He didn’t respond, racing after Gon towards where they had last seen Leorio and Tonpa heading.

But he did feel something stir in his chest when his eyes met hers.

‘She’s kind. It’s… nice to see that in such a place.’

The three stopped when they spotted Tonpa lying on the ground.

“Tonpa! What’s wrong?”

He groaned and lifted himself up slowly. “Oh, it’s you. Hurry, they need your help!”

“What happened back there?” Kurapika asked, glancing between Tonpa and the hallway he pointed to.

“It was a trap. Worst I’ve seen. Hurry!”

(Name) turned and ran towards where Tonpa had been pointing, the two following behind her.

The three continued to run until they came across Nicholas, one of the applicants.

“Nicholas! What’s wrong?”

The boy slowly moved so he was on his hands and knees, looking back at them with a delirious expression. Kurapika subconsciously pushed (Name) behind him.

The man began to walk away while laughing to himself. Kurapika watched him for a minute before speaking.

“Let’s go, we have to find Leorio.”

Gon and (Name) nodded. “Yeah.”

——————

“Leorio, can you hear me? Leorio!!!”

Gon continued to call out Leorio’s name as they ran, (Name) noticing Kurapika beginning to slow down.

“Kurapika?”

She stopped next to him, Gon circling back when he noticed they were no longer running. “What’s wrong?”

Kurapika eyes became hazy, the blonde holding up his weapons to defend himself. “The Phantom Troupe…”

His breath came out in short pants as his eyes began to turn a deep shade of scarlet.

“Oh no…please, don’t do it…”

He collapsed onto the ground, (Name) quick to kneel by his side. “Kurapika, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

“Can you hear me?” Gon asked, concern lacing his voice.

Kurapika stared at the ground as sweat beaded down his forehead.

He fell, lying against the ground. “Make… them stop… please…”

He stared off into the distance, unable to move. (Name) wasn’t sure what to do, so she rubbed soothing circles into his back. “Kurapika, no one’s here. It’s just us.”

He didn’t relax though. His eyes remained that same scarlet color. “We have to get going. I’ll carry him.”

(Name) hoisted Kurapika up and over her shoulder. Gon blinked. “Wow, you’re strong.”

She nodded, a small smile on her lips. “I grew up with two younger brothers who looooved piggy back rides.”

“Can I get one too? Later, I mean.”

(Name) laughed. “Sure, after we find Leorio.”

They continued, now slowed down because of Kurapika’s weight. She didn’t seem to have much trouble carrying him, only occasionally grunting and rearranging him on her shoulder.

“So, Gon, why do you want to be a Hunter?”

The young boy hummed, adjusting the line on his fishing pole. “Mmm, I’m not sure yet, but I want to find my dad. He’s a Hunter too.”

‘Find? Did his dad abandon him?’

(Name) nodded slowly. “I see.”

“What about you?”

The girl paused, her grip on Kurapika’s thigh tightening ever so slightly. “Well… I didn’t have many options.”

Gon tilted his head. “Really?”

“Yeah. I… just thought it would be fun to try out.”

She sighed. (Name) didn’t enjoy lying, especially to an honest boy like him, but the truth about the situation wasn’t something a child should know. Gon didn’t respond.

The hallway was quiet for a bit, until Kurapika grunted loudly. (Name) turned her head a bit to see if he’d woken up, only for him to begin struggling against her and cry out.

“Kurapika! Are you alright?”

He wiggled out of her grasp, and just as she was about to lean over and help him back up, the white haired boy from before appeared, kicking the blonde in the face.

“Kurapika!”

She rushed over to his side, crouching down as he lifted his upper half onto his forearms to look up.

She helped him into a sitting position, the blonde leaning against her for support.

“Kurapika?”

Gon ran over, Killua standing in front of (Name) and Kurapika. The red had left his eyes, leaving them the pretty brown color she had noticed when she first met him.

“Oh good, you’re finally back to normal!” Gon said, smiling.

“But, uh…”

Killua watched Kurapika and (Name) with his blue eyes. “There is no healing cedar tree.”

“Huh!?”

“The sap comes from the tree of hallucination, it’s been used by assassins for a long time. It’s victims re-experience the worst events of their lives, and it eventually drives them insane.”

Kurapika blinked slowly, realizing he’d been leaning against (Name). He pulled back, the girl reaching out to make sure he didn’t fall.

“How do you know that?” Gon asked.

“So that means Tonpa must of…”

Killua nodded at the blonde. “Yeah, that’s right, he set you guys up.”

Kurapika growled in anger, gripping onto (Name)’s sleeve.

“We should go.”

“Sure, I think I know a way we can save the old guy you were with, and catch up with the group again with a single move.”

(Name) helped Kurapika stand, the blonde grateful for her help. She’d only known him for an hour but was risking failing the exam to make sure him and Leorio were okay.

“A games no fun unless there’s some risks.”

“I’m glad we met up again! Are you going to tell me your name?”

The boy smiled at Gon. “It’s Killua.”

———————

“Okay Killua, tell us your idea.”

He pulled out a small object from his pocket. “It’s a bomb, small but effective.”

(Name) pulled Gon back by his shoulders a bit by instinct. He didn’t react, only glancing at her hands before responding.

“That’s a bomb?”

“Let’s blow up this wall and all the disgusting sap covering it.”

He placed the bombs all over the wall, (Name) stepping a few feet back. Kurapika watched as she carefully maneuvered Gon to a safe distance, the dark haired boy not seeming to mind at all.

The explosion began, the four leaping through the opening created by the bomb to grab Leorio.

They all fell onto the ground, (Name) being caught before she face planted by Kurapika. He pulled her up slightly before letting go.

“It worked! Not the easiest way to travel but it is fast! I guess there’s no turning back now.”

Kurapika blinked as (Name) knelt next to Leorio. “You alright?”

“Gon? (Name)? Kurapika? … Pietro?”

She patted his back gently. “It’s just us, Leorio.”

“You were hallucinating as a result of inhaling the sap. Tonpa fooled us all.”

Leorio gave (Name) a smile, accepting her hand when she offered to pull him to her feet.

“So that’s what that was. Guess I owe you guys one for saving my butt. But how did you manage to avoid it?”

Kurapika shook his head. “It was a close call for me.”

“(Name) and I were fine!”

“I guess it wouldn’t work on Gon cuz he’s still a kid, so he doesn’t have any problems yet.”

‘But why wouldn’t it work for (Name)?’

Leorio and Kurapika glanced at the girl, who was pulling out a bandaid to place on Gon’s knee. The two seemed to already be friendly with each other, laughing when Gon nearly tripped again.

“Hey old man, we don’t have time to sit around chatting.”

“OLD MAN!? What are you-“

“His names Killua!”

“Ready for the next round?”

Killua threw more bombs past Leorio’s head. “What was that, I heard a click.”

(Name) covered Gon and Killua with her cardigan, then shielded her ears.

“THEY’RE BOMBS!?”

The group of five jumped through the hole the bombs left, Gon handing (Name) her cardigan after they landed. “Thanks (Name)!”

Killua watched her with narrow eyes. ‘What does she get out of protecting us with that flimsy cardigan? What is she after..?’

A plume of smoke dispersed through the hallway, the sound of the other applicants coughing echoing on the walls.

“What exactly is going on here?” Satotz asked.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, but we had to break through the walls.” Gon said apologetically.

“I never said you couldn’t destroy the walls, but tell me, how is it that you survived after wondering through the tunnels of hallucinations? I’m quite impressed.”

(Name) pulled some debris from her hair, sighing. Leorio spotted Tonpa and rushed forward, grabbing him by the collar. “How dare you! I have a score to settle with you!”

“Stop, Leorio!”

(Name) pulled out a piece of hard candy and began to suck on it as her new comrades argued. Killua watched her do this and crouched down next to her.

“You got candy?”

She tilted her head then smiled. “Yes, would you like a piece?”

She offered him a piece of butterscotch candy, which he took. ‘… maybe she’s not so bad after all. I’ll still keep my distance but…’

He didn’t sense any malicious intent from her, just… something. Something that honestly unnerved him a little.

——————

(Name) and Kurapika kept pace with each other, eventually reaching Leorio who had taken off his shirt.

“I see, so you were lying to us before.”

“Didn’t lie! My objective has always been to make a lot of money! And whatever happened in the past, happened in the past! I have no interest in doing anything that won’t make me any money!”

Kurapika sighed. “I wish you luck.”

“I don’t need luck, I’m going to become a hunter or die trying!”

“No, a doctor.”

(Name) giggled next to them.

“Could you please not look at me like that, Kurapika? It makes me a little nervous. Now come on, let’s go!”

The blonde smiled. “You alright now, Leorio?”

“Yeah I’m fine, check it out! I don’t care how stupid I look! I’d keep running even if I was naked! Pretend you don’t know me if you want!”

(Name) gasped when Kurapika threw off his tabard and stuffed it into his bag. Kurapika glanced at her. “Maybe we should follow his example.”

She pulled off her cardigan and stuffed it into her backpack.

It didn’t take long for her to catch up to Leorio, who instantly noticed she was no longer covered by her thick cardigan.

“WOAH! You’ve got a nice figure. Plump and soft, just how I like th-“

Kurapika kicked the back of his legs, causing him to crumple before getting back up and running behind them.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?”

The blonde shrugged. “Sorry, pervert senses were tingling.”

———————

They reached the outside, (Name) instantly unbuttoning her undershirt so she could fan herself. It was hot, and even with just her skirt and top she was sweating. “Yeesh, I’m burning up.”

She crouched down and fanned herself with her hand, ignoring what was going on. They seemed to be distracted by some kind of “impersonator”, but she didn’t care all that much.

The magician disposed of the impersonator and they began to run again.

‘Ah, maybe I should have listened a little…’ she thought, watching as the people around her began to be attacked by mysterious beasts.

She glanced around to see she’d already lost her group, sighing to herself.

“You lost, little girl?”

(Name) blinked before turning her head to the left to see Hisoka leaning against a tree. He smiled at her, holding a card in his hand.

“Dunno, maybe.”

She shrugged nonchalantly, giving Hisoka a bored look. “Hmm…”

Hisoka stepped forward, looking her over. “Not bad… you certainly have some potential.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Potential? What do you mean by that?”

The magician tossed a card in her direction, the girl not even flinching when it sliced her cheek. She continued to stare at him, the look in her eyes making him shiver.

It was the look of someone prepared to die.

“I see… so that’s why you’ve peaked my interest…”

He pointed behind him. “You pass. If you continue that way, you’ll catch up to the group in no time.”

He began to walk in the opposite direction, quickly passing her by.

“Wait, if that way is the right direction, then why are you going that way?”

He only chuckled. “I have some… business to take care of.”

She sighed and took out her dagger. “Whatever.”

She continued running in the direction he pointed to, the man barely restraining himself from letting out a moan.

“God, I can’t wait until she’s ready to fight.”

He chuckled to himself before continuing on his run.

“(Name)!”

Gon yelled out, nearly crashing into the girl. She paused, catching him in her arms. “Gon, you’re okay!”

She squeezed him lightly before noticing Kurapika as well. “(Name)…”

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. “Your cheek…”

She blinked before swiping at her cheek with her sleeve. “Oh, this? You can thank Hisoka for it. He attacked me, then said I passed and pointed to where I could find the group. Still haven’t found them, though.”

Kurapika gripped his weapons tightly. “He’d even hurt a woman? That sick bastard…”

(Name) sighed. “It doesn’t hurt that much, and once we get to the sight of the second phase I’ll put a bandaid on it. I guess I’m just lucky to have survived this long, considering I’ve been alone these past thirty minutes.”

She offered the two a drink from her canteen, which they took. After that they continued, Kurapika keeping a close eye on the girl.

Killua was waiting near the edge of the crowd, and was the first one to see the three arrive.

“Gon, (Name)!”

He smiled, putting his hands in his pockets.

(Name) bent over to catch her breath before rushing over to the still unconscious Leorio.

Hisoka had pointed him out seconds before, winking at the girl. Kurapika scowled when he noticed Hisoka watching her every movement.

‘That creep. I’ll need to stick by her so he doesn’t get any weird ideas.’

Leorio didn’t remember anything, but seemed happy to have (Name) taking care of his injuries. Kurapika pulled her back to gently wipe her cheek.

“Leorio can wait a second, you need to tend to yourself first.”

She looked to the ground, nodding. ‘But I don’t really care about my own injuries…’

Nonetheless, she cleaned the cut and applied a hello kitty bandaid before going back to Leorio.

Satotz left shortly after wishing them all luck. Killua watched her tend to Leorio before walking off and chatting with Gon.

“Alright, you should be okay. It’s going to take a while for the swelling in your cheek to go down, though.”

She helped pull him to his feet before pulling her backpack over her shoulders. “Thank you, beautiful. If I had you to tend to me, I’d get hurt all the time.”

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. “I think I’ll be taking care of your injuries after this.”

(Name) chuckled, poking Leorio’s good cheek. “Don’t get hurt on purpose, big guy.”

———————

“It’s almost time!” Gon said.

“I’m getting a little nervous.” Kurapika replied, holding onto his satchel tightly.

“I think you’ll do fine.” she patted his shoulder gently, a smile on her lips.

“Just about anything could be waiting for us behind those doors…”

The clock rang soon after Leorio finished his sentence. The doors to the building opened, a loud growling sound making (Name) jump and hide behind Kurapika and Leorio.

“Thanks for waiting. Buhara, how are you feeling now, hungry?”

A woman with greenish blue hair sat in front of a giant of a man, who’s stomach had been causing the loud noise.

“Yeah Menchi, I think anyone who has ears can hear that I’m starving!”

She smiled shyly at the group in front of her. “As you might have guessed, us two Gourmet Hunters are in charge of judging the Second Phase.”

“Gourmet Hunters?”

“What’s that?”

“Gourmet Hunters travel around the world collecting all sorts of exotic ingredients. They then use them to create new innovative dishes that have never been tasted. Before becoming Hunters, most of them were gourmet chefs.” Kurapika answered

‘Hmm, he’s smart.’ (Name) thought, watching the blonde.

“Hmm, so then this phase…”

“Right! So the subject for this phase, is cooking!”

“COOKING!?”

(Name) smiled. ‘This is actually something I can do!’

She listened to the two examiners, nodding along.

“Man, I’ve never cooked anything before in my life!” Leorio said with a sigh. (Name) was taken aback by this.

“Never? How are you still alive?”

Kurapika looked away from the girl. ‘I’ve never cooked either, but I’ll keep that to myself,’ he thought, not wanting to embarrass himself.

Gon smiled. “I know how to cook!”

The three turned towards the boy. “You serious? What can you make?” Leorio asked.

“I can make a lot of different stuff, but my specialty is macaroni and cheese!”

“Macaroni… and cheese?”

(Name) giggled. “Oh, Gon, that’s great for your age.”

“Well, I guess you could call that cooking.”

Kurapika gave the boy a smile as Leorio laughed. “Come on, it doesn’t take much of a chef to make a simple dish like macaroni and cheese.”

“Hey, that’s not true! Aunt Mito always said no one makes it like me!”

(Name) nodded along, patting his head.

“I’m sure she’s right. Maybe you can make it for me sometime.” Leorio said, snickering.

“Met too.” Kurapika agreed, seemingly amused by the innocent boy.

(Name) gave him a piece of candy, quickly grabbing a piece for Killua as well. “Here, I’ll want some of that macaroni and cheese as well. Is this payment good enough?”

She winked, the boy laughing. “Yes, this will do!”

“Listen up! My order is…”

(Name) quieted down, glancing back to the large man known as Buhara.

“A whole roasted pig! It’s my absolute favorite, and living in the forest is the great stamp! The most ferocious and delicious pig of them all!”

“The great stamp?” The entire group asked in unison.

The ground began to shake underneath them, a herd of pigs barreling towards them. Kurapika pulled (Name) out of the way just in time, the girl letting out a gasp as her skirt flew up from the gust of wind accompanying the stampede.

She was thankful she had worn a pair of shorts underneath, but other people weren’t.

“Aww, there’s shorts.”

(Name) and Kurapika turned to look at Leorio at the same time.

“Why do you sound so disappointed?”

Kurapika shook his head at (Name). “You don’t want to know what goes through that pervert’s mind.”

He ushered her away, glaring back at Leorio as he did.

They continued running away from the giant pigs, (Name) and Kurapika teaming up.

“It’s snout is tough, did you see how it launched all those grown men?”

Kurapika nodded. “Yes, but it should have some sort of weakness. Perhaps…”

From the corner of his eye, Kurapika watched Gon hit the stamp over the head, causing it to fall over dead.

“(Name), I have a plan, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

They hid behind a tree so he could explain. “You’re going to grab a thick tree branch, and I’m going to throw you onto the pigs back. Then, you’ll hit it over the head. We’ll repeat this twice.”

She seemed a bit uncomfortable with this plan, glancing to the pig sniffing around for them. “Oh um… are you sure you can pick me up?”

He tilted his head, looking her up and down. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be able to?”

Too embarrassed to answer that, she agreed to the plan.

“Okay, on the count of three, we’ll rush out to attack.” Kurapika said, grabbing her hand. (Name) looked down, her face heating up ever so slightly.

“One!”

“Two!”

“THREE!”

They rushed out, causing the pig to run towards them. Kurapika grabbed (Name) by the waist and threw her into the air. “AHHH!”

She landed with a huff onto the pig’s back, groaning.

“You’ve got it, (Name)! Hit it now!”

She recovered quickly, bringing the stick down with as much force as she could manage. The pig collapsed, (Name) barely moving out of the way before she was crushed.

“You did it!”

Kurapika rushed over to help her up, smiling. The girl rubbed her bottom. “That landing hurt, I’m not excited to do that again.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, it’s just the safest way to do it.”

The two repeated the action, Kurapika helping her off the second time.

“Owie…”

Kurapika could only gently pat her shoulder. “You alright?”

She nodded slowly. “As alright as I can be, after being thrown in the air and landing on a pig.”

Kurapika laughed at this, the girl joining him.

————————

Buhara ended up passing everyone that entered a roasted pig.

Menchi scolded him for passing everyone, but (Name) wasn’t listening. She was busy staring at Kurapika’s hand, that was placed on her shoulder.

“I’m not an armrest, ya know.”

Kurapika pulled his hand back, cheeks going pink. “Oh, sorry! I meant to say thank you for your help, but I got distracted by Buhara and Menchi.”

She giggled. “Well thank you for coming up with the plan. Now we’ve both passed half of the second phase!”

He relaxed, returning her smile.

“For the next part of this phase you’ll be filling my order, which is… sushi.”

Leorio tilted his head. “Sushi?”

“Sushi? Wonder what that is…” killua thought aloud.

“Any ideas?” Kurapika asked (Name), turning to her. She shook her head.

“No, unfortunately I’ve never heard of that dish before.” The two sighed.

“You guys look pretty stressed out! But I don’t blame you for not knowing what it is. Sushi is an ethnic dish from a small island country. I’ll give you a little hint. Inside you’ll find your work stations!”

(Name) tilted her head. “Work station?”

The applicants walked inside, seeing various kitchen work stations.

“Here’s where you’ll prepare the dish. Each station has all the essential tools and ingredients. I’ve even prepared the rice for you, which is necessary to make sushi. And now for one final hint! I’m particularly fond of hand molded nigiri sushi!”

(Name) stood at her station, between Kurapika and Leorio.

“Alright then, you guys can get started! This test will conclude as soon as I’m full. Until then you can serve me as many pieces as you want.”

(Name) watched Leorio stare at the barrel of rice. “Hmm… hand molded? That should give me some sort of indication of what it’s supposed to look like. But that still doesn’t tell me what other things I need to use.”

Kurapika hummed. “Nigiri sushi… I’m not sure exactly how this food is supposed to be made, but I think I’ve read about it somewhere.”

“Really?”

“Let’s see, if I recall, it’s made mostly of rice, mixed with vinegar and some type of raw fish.”

“RAW FISH!?”

(Name) jumped at the sound of his voice, Kurapika’s eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

“We’re stuck out here in the middle of a forest!”

Kurapika threw his spoon at Leorio, hitting his forehead.

“Would you be quiet? There are rivers in forests you know and we could fish in them!”

“Hmph.”

The two looked around, seeing all the other applicants staring at them. Menacingly.

They raced out of the building, leaving the three alone. (Name) set her bag down and began running after them, Kurapika and Leorio following her lead.

“It’s no fair! They were eavesdropping!”

Kurapika sighed. “It’s not their fault, I was the one who shot my mouth off.”

“This sucks! Now everyone knows what’s in it!”

(Name) patted Kurapika on the shoulder. “I’m sure they would have figured it out anyways. Considering we were about to leave and return with fish.”

He gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”

———————

The three returned with fish of varying types. (Name) traded Gon a few pieces of candy in exchange for a few fish.

“Well, all that’s left is to cook. Good luck boys!”

She gave them both a reassuring pat on the back before beginning her cooking process.

(Name) thought back to what Menchi had said, along with Kurapika’s limited information.

‘Does that mean the fish is supposed to be molded into the rice? Or the rice covers it?’

She tilted her head as she began to clean the fish. ‘Well, I assume I’ll at least need to cut it into fillets. After all, no one is dumb enough to serve her a whole, raw fish, right?”

Wrong.

(Name) watched with an incredulous expression as Leorio served Menchi an entire fish, still flipping around, halfway covered in rice.

Of course, Menchi rightly knocked the plate away. Leorio sulked back to his station.

“She didn’t like it…”

(Name) raised an eyebrow, but stayed quiet. ‘So he wasn’t kidding when he said he’s never cooked before…’

“What are you making?”

(Name) looked up to see Kurapika peeking over her shoulder. “Hey, no peeking!”

She bumped him with her hip, scolding him. “No cheating off of me!”

He pouted. “I wasn’t trying to… I was just curious.”

“Well be curious in that direction.”

“No, because you’re pointing at Leorio.”

“HEY!”

(Name) giggled to herself as she finished her dish, beaming. “I’m done!”

She carried her plate to Menchi, setting it down in front of her. “Here’s my entry!”

Menchi hummed, seemingly interested from the smell alone.

“It’s sushi! I um… think!”

Menchi looked down at the dish. It definitely wasn’t sushi, but the girl had obviously tried, and if Menchi appreciated anything, it was effort.

The blue haired woman took a bite. “Hmm… too salty, but good try. It’s not quite sushi, but it tastes good. Go back and try again.”

(Name) blinked, then nodded. She felt dejected, she’d tried her hardest!

She walked back to her station, grabbing her bag. “(Name), what are you doing?”

“I give up.”

The two stared at her. “You give up? Why??”

“I’m a failure, I couldn’t make sushi.”

“(Name).”

Kurapika patted her head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Your dish is the only one Menchi has even taken a bite of so far. Why don’t you try again?”

(Name) pouted. “… I’m going to go sit by the river.”

The two watched her walk away, her head hung low.

“Drama queen.” Leorio said, before getting back to his work.

“Well…” Kurapika stared in her direction for a moment. “She’s certainly… dramatic.”

But the blonde couldn’t help following her with his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey Kurapika, come try this! (Name) had some leftovers!”

Kurapika sighed. “You shouldn’t just eat the food she prepared…”

But he did join Leorio, taking a bite. “Oh wow, it is really good.”

The two snacked on her leftover food before getting back to work.

(Name)’s eyebrow twitched when she noticed Hisoka already sitting by the river. ‘Fuck it. Yolo.’

(Name) sat down a few feet away from him, tossing rocks into the water. She wasn’t even attempting to skip them, just throwing them into the river.

“… (Name).”

She hesitantly looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“What are you doing here?”

She huffed. “Sulking.”

“Hmm.”

(Name) went back to her rock throwing, Hisoka now watching her. “Gave up that easily, huh?”

She paused. “As if you didn’t as well?”

He smirked. “Touché.”

The two sat in silence for a bit, before (Name) heard someone running up behind her. “(Name)- oh.”

The person paused a good distance away from her. “Can you come here? Away from…”

Hisoka raised his hand. “I’m not going to hurt her. We were just… talking.”

‘Oh now people are going to think I’m friendly with the murder clown.’

(Name) stood up, and stuck out her tongue at Hisoka for good measure. ‘There, now people will think I hate him! Orrr that I have a death wish. Which isn’t exactly wrong but-‘

“(Name), we know what sushi is now!”

It was Kurapika, and he was smiling at her. “Come on, now we’ve got a real chance to pass!”

Her pulled her back to the building by her hand, smiling widely. She couldn’t help but smile too.

‘He thought of me.’

———————

Though they all tried their hardest, even after figuring out how to make sushi, none of them could satisfy Menchi.

She poured herself a cup of green tea, sipping slowly. “Ah..”

(Name) had just given her the last piece of sushi, and had been rejected yet again.

“Sorry, but I’m completely stuffed!”

Hanzo blinked. “So then, what happens now?”

“Like I said, the test is over and this time no one passed. Thank you, come again.”

The air grew tense, (Name) too busy pouting to really care. ‘But I tried so hard…’

She only looked up when Gon stole Menchi’s phone.

“Oh dear.”

She turned her head when she heard someone destroy one of the cooking stations. ‘Sore loser.’ (Name) thought, munching on piece of candy.

“Alright, I’ll show you what it means to be a Gourmet Hunter.”

Menchi left, saying she’d be back in about an hour. (Name) took this as an opportunity to chat with Buhara.

“Sorry that people are being disrespectful. I’m actually a chef myself, but not on any level close to you two.”

Buhara seemed a bit surprised by her comment. “Ah, that makes sense. Menchi seemed to enjoy your dishes the best. If she hadn’t been so picky today, I’m sure she would have passed you.”

(Name) nodded. “Yeah, but that’s not how things went.”

She sat down next to him, taking out a piece of candy and handing it to the man. “Here, I know after I’ve eaten a savory meal I like to have something a little sweet to balance it out.”

‘This girl…’

He took the candy. ‘I’m starting to understand Menchi’s interest in her.’

(Name) and Buhara chatted, exchanging recipes and laughing over stories about cooking gone wrong.

“Is she becoming friends with the examiner?”

Kurapika watched her, eyes wide. Leorio cheered. “Yeah, butter him up (Name)! Use your womanly charm and get us a passing grade!”

Kurapika smacked him over the head. “First of all, she’s not doing that. Secondly, if she was, you screaming out her plans would foil them.”

“Oh.”

Menchi returned, momentarily glancing at (Name) and Buhara with a raised eyebrow before showing off her finds.

(Name) watched as the brute from before kicked the table Menchi had served the plate on over, nearly hitting (Name) in the face.

To her surprise, Buhara extended a hand to shield her. “Oh, thank you!”

He gave her a nod. “No problem.”

A few applicants attempted to get near Machi, but Buhara hit them with surprising strength. “Ooo get ‘em!!” (Name) called, cheering him on.

The wrestler Todo ended up pushing Buhara over, but the man seemed unfazed. “Ooo, you’re pretty strong. Guess it’s time to get serious. Think you can handle it?”

Menchi stepped in. “I can take care of him by myself.”

(Name) stared wide eyed as Menchi beat the absolute SHIT out of Todo, only using her legs.

‘That’s kind of hot.’ (Name) thought.

Kurapika pulled (Name) to safety. “Come here, it’s not safe over there.”

“Oh.”

She hadn’t realized, but it had become kind of a fighting zone. Kurapika noticed she kept staring at Menchi, but didn’t think much. Her and Satotz were arguing, (Name) only catching the end of it.

“I was trying to see how resourceful these guys were. Could they face a challenge for which they had little or no experience?”

“That may be true, Menchi, but since no one passed that test, don’t you think it may have been a bit too difficult?”

‘Oh god the sky is talking.’

“It’s an airship with the Hunter Association’s logo!”

‘Oh. That makes more sense.’ (Name) thought, being pulled outside by Kurapika.

“Oh shit an old guy!” (Name) gasped, pointing at an old man falling from the sky. “I was not expecting to see an old man die today.”

The man landed, seemingly unfazed. ‘Oh so he’s some sort of wizard. Wait did she say chairman?’

Killua and Gon seemed surprised he hadn’t broken his legs. “I’m surprised he isn’t a chairman pancake.” (Name) said, patting Gon on the head.

Apparently, he was the highest authority in the Hunter Association.

(Name) stood near Menchi, glancing at her at her as Netero talked. ‘She’s cute.’

“I have an idea. We’re going to give them all a second chance at the test, and I would like for you to continue being the examiner for this. But this time around I want you to demonstrate how it’s done before the applicants make an attempt. Does that sound reasonable? I think this will go a long way for everyone to accept your ruling.”

The group of five were relieved that they would be getting a second chance.

“The test is, a boiled egg.”

———————

The group rode on the airship to a large mountain.

“So, this is the spot.” Menchi said, standing before a cliff.

“What is this place?”

“How deep is it, I can’t see the bottom?”

Menchi smiled. “Not to worry, at the bottom is a deep river. Now, watch and learn boys.”

She fell backwards down the cliff.

“This deep ravine happens to be home of the spider eagle. And she’s gone down to retrieve one of its eggs.” Netero informed the group. (Name) peeked over the cliff.

“Wow!”

Menchi climbed back up with ease, pulling the egg from her bra. “You might want to be a little careful, the river runs very fast so if you fall you’ll be whisked out to sea before you know what hit ya!”

(Name) handed her bag to Buhara. “Could you watch this for me, please?”

He nodded, the group gasping when she rushed forward and jumped. “(Name)!”

They all followed after her, (Name) holding onto one of the strings and swinging up to stand on one. “Whew, I’m awful at the balancing act!”

Kurapika stared at her, blinking. “(Name), please be careful.”

She blinked. “Oh, sorry. I’ll try.”

Killua glanced at her from his spot, already finding an egg. ‘She should be alright…’ he thought, before going back to his task.

The boy furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Why am I concerned for her safety? She’s just some woman…’

Eagles began attacking the contestants, (Name) managing to climb up to Kurapika. The boy held onto her, keeping her steady. “Did you get an egg?”

(Name) nodded, pointing to her chest. “I’m following Menchi’s example!”

The blonde blushed, quickly changing the subject. “… let’s climb up before the eagles come back.

———————

Menchi had them drop all of their eggs into a large pot. “Don’t think the test is over yet! You still have to boil them. Over cooking or under cooking will fail you!”

Buhara began to sweat, staring at the pot. (Name) placed a hand on his arm. “You alright, Buhara?”

“I think he knows something we don’t!”

The group began pulling their eggs out, (Name) patting his arm after. Menchi seemed pissed. “You couldn’t have made it anymore obvious!”

Menchi glanced at (Name) yet again, calming slightly. “This is an ordinary chicken egg, and this is a spider eagle egg. Now go ahead and compare how they taste!”

(Name) glanced at Menchi, before halving her egg and handing it to her. “Here!”

The woman blushed, taking it. “Oh, um… thank you, applicant 406.”

“My name is (Name).” She said with a sweet smile.

“Thank you, (Name).”

The women smiled, eating together. “Menchi, this is delicious! Wow, gourmet hunters sure know their stuff!”

The woman seemed to become flustered from (Name)’s praise. “I appreciate you taking the time to speak with us. Buhara told me how kind you were to him earlier. I…”

She shook her head, turning her attention to the group. “Listen up, for the second phase, 43 pass! Menchi’s Menu is over!”

The all cheered, (Name) pulling in her four friends in for a hug. “Hehe!”

The group boarded the airship, on their way to the next phase.

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