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arachine · 8 months

Note

*slides a big fat twenty your way* uh how about a part two of that non traditional family dynamics with gojo

dinner and a disaster . . .

synopsis :: when your oldest daughter is at that age where boys are starting to become the focal point of her universe, you bring out the big guns — which in this case, unfortunately happens to be her father (who is not exactly the best when it comes to disciplining his little girls).

or, in other words, you and gojo play good cop bad cop.

genre :: fluff

contents :: co-parent!gojo, mentions of alcohol, heavy dialogue, time skip (the girls are 14 and 12 respectively), gojo is in distress !!!!

note :: link to part 1 + link to part 3

it's 10 pm when you text gojo about the latest happenings going on in your household.

it's also 10:01 pm when you answer his incoming face time call.

he's wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, laying down on his bed with a pillow under his chin and a hand propped up to support his head—he's comfortable, to say the least, and 100% tuned in to hear about whatever it is that you just texted him.

"is this what you've been doing all day?" you query with a laugh. there's a brief look of confusion etched onto his face before he picks up on what you were implying. rolling his eyes, he scoffs.

"it was my day off," he pouts, "can't a man relax in his fuzzy blanket?"

you squint teasingly at the screen, then nod slowly before mouthing an 'uh-huh'.

"i didn't call you to get berated about my choice of blanket!"

"okay, okay! i'm sorry," you grab a napkin from your nightstand, waving it like a white flag of surrender. "such a baby..."

"says the one who could never take...you know what, i won't finish that."

"smart man," you smile. "i want to be mad at you sometimes but it's almost kinda impressive how easily you can change the atmosphere...i mean, wow! it's record-breaking, truly."

"ha...ha. alright. i overstepped my bounds, i get it. can we just...can we just get back to our daughter? i'm starting to regret calling you on my day off—which, by the way, was going so great."

"great, love that we're on the same page," you give him a thumbs up through the screen. before you can get into the nitty-gritty of the situation, you take a brief pause to prepare yourself for the dramatics about to ensue—because if you know anything about gojo satoru, you know he's definitely one for the dramatics.

"when i tell you this...i want you to stay calm, keep a level head, and most importantly, i want you not to scream," you say, opening your mouth again to emphasize the last part, "and it's important that you especially won't scream, okay?"

gojo mulls it over before committing, "i don't know...it depends on what you're gonna tell m-"

"just—just promise, gojo," you interrupt, clearly agitated.

"alright, i promise."

"okay, so there's a boy..."

you're mid-sentence when gojo's eye starts to twitch.

"and she's expressed to me that she wants to go on a date with him." when you finish, you're half expecting him to yell, and half expecting him to end the call. but he doesn't.

in fact, he's so still, you're almost convinced he's frozen, but then he begins to smile. slow at first, and then all at once. it's creepy, you think, something straight out of a horror film.

"i know this was a lot of information to process, are you...okay?"

"pfttt, what? of course, why wouldn't i be?"

"well, you look scary. maybe i shouldn't have told yo-"

"SHE WANTS TO WHAT?"

and there it is. gojo satoru, king of dramatics.

"my little girl, my baby, my princess. she's only 10!-"

"she's 14."

"same thing, how could you let this happen?!"

"what happened to not yelling?! you promised!"

"oh be serious, i made a vow to you 14 years ago and look where we are now," he whisper-yells, trying (and failing) to contain his voice.

"dammit, you're right...well, at least we're on the same page! we both don't want this date to happen." when you take another glance at the screen, gojo's no longer laying down on his bed, but up and pacing around his room like a mad man.

you watch him for awhile, and when he doesn't seem to be coming back any time you soon, you call his name, "satoru."

"what?!" he turns to the phone. glaring at him, you wait for him to check his tone. "sorry, what?"

"i was thinking tomorrow you could come over for dinner? it'd give us a chance to talk to her about it...so that it's not just me telling her no."

"so, what i'm hearing is that you want her to hate me too?"

"no, i'm saying i want us to be a team. so, can you come over tomorrow? can you do that?" you ask, raising a brow.

"yeah, i'll be there."

at the same time the oven alarm goes off, gojo arrives. you can see his car pull into the drive way from where you are in the kitchen, and you mentally curse yourself for not getting ready sooner.

"fuck, uh okay," you throw your oven mitts, "hon, can you get the door for your dad? i need to go upstairs and get changed."

the youngest gets up from her place on the couch, "sure, wait...dad's staying for dinner? what's the occasion?"

you're halfway up the stairs before you stop, "enough questions, please. just open the door, thank youuuu."

ambling from the living room to the foyer, she opens the front door. gojo smiles, and immediately lifts her up into a bone-crushing hug that only a dad could give.

"hey bug, missed you," he squeezes her, much to her behest.

"ugh, dadddd, put me down," she drawls, pawing at his chest. gojo frowns and puts her down, putting a hand over his heart as if he were shot.

"you used to love that, you know."

"yeah, when i was like five."

"are you not?" he teases, but she's not amused. he nudges her arm annoyingly until she begins to smile. "there we go, punk. now can i have a real hug? you're hurting my feelings."

like a true pre-teen, she rolls her eyes and reluctantly trudges over to him, then opens her arms up for a hug. at this stage, you've noticed that hugs are okay, but only when it's on their own terms—and you especially can't initiate them when their friends are around (you learned that the hard way).

when they pull away, gojo takes his shoes off and wanders through the house. "where's the other brat at?"

"upstairs."

gojo nods, "uh-huh...where's your mom at?"

"right here." gojo hears you before he sees you, and then he lifts his head up to see you at the top of the stairs standing behind the banister. before you make your way downstairs, you waltz over to your daughter's room and knock on the door.

"hey, dinner's ready. come on downstairs. somebody's here to see you." as you begin turning around, the door flies open and out comes your moody teenage daughter.

"who is it?" she queries, following behind you like a duckling.

from where he stands at the bottom of the staircase, gojo raises a hand and waves.

"hey, scrub."

"dad? what are you doing here?" your oldest questions, but still goes in for a hug.

"your mom invited me over for dinner, that cool with you?"

she nods, then turns to her sister. they exchange a knowing look that, if translated, would be: something's definitely up. they wait for you and gojo to head to the kitchen before having a quick debrief.

"you definitely did something," the youngest side eyes.

"wha-why would you think i did something? you're the one failing a class," she rebuttals.

"ok well...this isn't about me! they only get together when one of us does something. don't you see? they're teaming up...this is an intervention."

the oldest pinches the space between her brows, "i can see why you're failing english now, because the way you just jumped to conclusions like that is actually insane."

dinner goes by without a hitch. for majority of it, you spend the time talking about work, school (which seems like a sensitive subject because the youngest wouldn't look either of you in the eye), and the plot of this hbo show with adult kids who're trying to take over their father's company.

gojo brings it up, of course, and jokingly says that the show was written with him in mind. he asks the girls if they'll fight over who'll inherit the company when he dies, and it turns into a i'm the better daughter debate.

when it gets a little too rowdy, you have to remind them that this is all hypothetical and that their father is a menace who likes to cause chaos whenever possible. gojo pouts and says you're no fun, but quickly fixes his face when he sees your pointed glare.

"come help me with the dishes," you say, and then disappear into the kitchen.

the two of you fall back into old habits. you wash the dishes, he dries and sets them on the rack. it feels like it did in the beginning, only this time, he'll be leaving when the two of you set out to do what you originally intended.

"dinner was nice," he says after about 10 minutes of comfortable silence. he doesn't look up, doesn't even make a joke about your cooking (which, you were totally expecting him to do). instead, he just continues drying the plate you handed to him.

"you know, you're welcomed to come again. you don't always have to be away in that apartment all by yourself," you start, choosing your words carefully, gently. "the girls like eating with their dad."

"i like eating with them too. i guess i'll start coming by more often then."

you almost miss it but there's a smile on his face, and it's genuine. instead of pointing it out, you savor the moment.

your reasoning for his coming here was to talk to your daughter, but it was also to get him out of the apartment. see, you were sneaky like him too, and what he didn't know wouldn't kill him. to you, this was just hitting two birds with one stone.

when you finish up, the two of you discuss the plan over for what seems like the 100th time.

"so, we're gonna go in there and be cool about it, okay? we won't hound her. we're just gonna tell her like it is, and then let her down gently. got it?"

"got it."

"after you," gojo extends his arm.

"wha-ugh, fine."

as you lead the way, gojo has to keep a hand on your back to keep you from turning back around. so far, you've attempted to retreat five times—you're two feet away from the kitchen entrance.

"will you just go?" there's irritation laced in his tone.

"okay, just stop pushing me."

"no promises, keep walking."

you sigh, but heed his request. with a hand still on your back, he guides you all the way to the living room. the girls are watching tv but quickly avert their focus when they notice you standing next to the couch with a freakish smile plastered on your face. gojo whispers in your ear to be cool and you immediately gather your wits.

"mom...your face...dad what's wrong with her face she's scaring me," the youngest pauses the tv.

"sweetie, will you go upstairs for a minute? your dad and i have to talk to your sister."

seeming to be catching on, she gets up from the couch and says a 'told you' to her sister before running upstairs. you and gojo share a look.

"what's up?" she asks, still weirded out.

"you see, well...we've been talking and..." you start, "your father has something he wants to tell you!"

gojo snaps his head towards you, gasping in the same motion. "hey, what the hell happened to being cool?"

"no promises, remember?"

"oh, you litt-"

"dad."

"sorry, uh, shit. i wasn't prepared for this. this wasn't the plan," he begins, "so, i heard there's a boy...and...you're at that age where boys are cute..."

she looks at the two of you in abhor and groans. gojo pauses briefly, but you encourage him to continue.

"and i've come to understand that you're interested in one and want to go on a date?"

"yeah."

"oh...okay well, i—we just don't think that's a good idea. you're 14, in school, and honey, you're so young...you have your whole life to be interested in boys."

"wait, what do you mean 'we'?"

"your mom and i talked about it and-"

"mom said she was fine with it."

gojo smiles in shock and then blinks, once, twice, three times.

"we'll be back," he announces, pulling you by the arm to the kitchen.

when you get to the kitchen, he releases your arm and pinches the skin between his brows. it takes all of about five seconds before he erupts.

"'we're a team, satoru', 'we're in this together', bullshit! you wanted me to be the bad cop, didn't you?"

"not initial-"

"didn't you!"

"okay, sorry! i may have...gave in when she asked, but i figured you'd be able to tell her no!"

"why would you think that!? she's my little girl!"

"she's my little girl too!"

gojo walks over to the cabinet and pulls out a glass. "i can't right now, i need a drink. what do you have?"

opening another cabinet, you pull out a bottle of pink whitney. gojo sucks his teeth. it was such a girl drink, but it was all you had so beggars couldn't be choosers. shrugging, he raises his glass for you to pour the drink into.

grabbing another glass, you sit down and join him.

"we've been had, huh?"

"how is that?"

"because we both can't say no to her."

gojo raises his glass to his lips and swallows it all down in a few gulps.

your daughter goes on a date the following week, and gojo starts looking into trackers.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #:: — LEXI WRITES !

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woso-dreamzzz · 18 days

Text

Call Up III

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first Senior match

"Frido," Magda says, jaw hanging open in shock," What the hell is that?"

"Cool, right?" Frido brags, pulling on her shirt to show off the back.

"They're not selling those right now," Magda says as she takes her seat," How did you get one?"

Frido grins.

On her back, is Harder-Eriksson, the name you've chosen to represent Sweden with.

"I got it off a site where you can customise jerseys."

"She got scammed too," Zećira says," Had to get a new credit card."

"Stop telling people that!"

Zećira just laughs as Pernille and Magda take their seats. "How is she feeling? Nervous?"

"Probably," Pernille says," You know how she is. It's her first game. She wants this to go perfectly."

"It will," Zećira replies. She sounds confident and Pernille has to wonder if she's psychic or something. The way she says it with such conviction is like there's no other option means she must be psychic. There's no other explanation.

The crowd cheers, stopping Pernille from pressing further and she gets to her feet to clap as the players filter out from the tunnel.

You're the second in line, right after your captain - a newly appointed woman who looks so much taller and older compared to you at just seventeen.

You look nervous, it's clear on your face. It's clear by the way you keep shifting your weight around and how you gnaw at your bottom lip. Your eyes dart around, purposely avoiding the box of supporters you know who are here to see you.

Magda can't believe what she's seeing, not really. For years, you've waddled around the house in her Sweden jersey. For years, you've worn Zećira's Sweden jersey to sleep.

But now, you're standing in front of a sold-out crowd in a Sweden jersey of your own (one day, you'll have the most jersey sales of a keeper in history). There are names on your back that people will be very familiar with (one day, those names will be synonymous with you alone, not Magda and Pernille). There is a small handful of people here to see you (one day, people will buy tickets just because your name is on the team sheet).

This is your first time playing for Sweden.

Just a friendly (one day, you'll win World Cups with Sweden).

One day, this match will be a blip in your life but right now it's the most important match of your career.

You're representing your country as you stand in the middle of you goal.

You've played against Spain's youth team countless times for Denmark. It's strange to see the Spain kit and no Natalia Guijarro running towards you with the ball.

Vicky Lopez is running at you this time, barely five minutes into the match. She's woven her way through your defensive line. She adjusts her positioning by just a fraction and winds her leg up.

She'll shoot for the top corner. You know this and you leap, falling forward onto your front.

The ball is in your hands and you roll it out towards your defenders.

"Yes!" Frido cheers, pumping her fist into the air," Yes! That's it!"

Magda wants to roll her eyes but she feels exactly the same way, though she keeps it much more contained.

The first half draws to a close with a spectacular goal from a Swedish midfielder who Magda knows recently signed for Gotham.

You jog off the field with your team, instantly being tucked under the arm of your captain as she teasingly ruffles your hair.

When you come out for the second half, you look infinitely more relaxed and comfortable. You look much more like you did when you played for Denmark.

You look secure and you definitely take a few more daring risks.

Stealing the ball right from the feet of a Spanish player looks so much like Magda that even the cameraman cuts to your Morsa cheer from the stands, waving a little flag with your face on it.

As soon as she realises Magda is on screen, your moster Frido barges her way into view as well with a sign that has some of your baby pictures on it.

It's embarrassing and so stupid but it makes you smile as you kick the ball down to your midfield who starts on the attack.

The smile that emerges doesn't fade even when the fulltime whistle is blown.

A clean sheet seems like the best way to start your international career with Sweden.

"Look at you," Your captain says, ruffling your hair," Clean sheet. What did I tell you, huh? Nothing to be worried about."

You try to squirm away but she holds you tighter. She holds you hostage as the rest of the team on and off the bench converge on you.

You know what they're going to do and you try to escape.

You manage to duck under arms but run straight into Frido.

You hadn't even realised she'd gotten onto the pitch.

"No," She teases, turning you around and shoving you right back at the team.

"Momma, Morsa!" You whine as Frido tries to walk you over," Make her stop."

"No chance," Morsa laughs," This is your debut. You get all the perks that comes with it."

You pout. "I wish I stayed with Denmark."

"Don't lie," Momma says.

"Zećira, please? Can't you stop them?"

Zećira laughs as well, arms crossed over her chest. "And miss out on my little prodigy experiencing this? Take it with dignity."

Frido pushes you right at the crowd of your teammates.

They don't let you get away this time.

Hands are on your limbs as you're lifted up and thrown into the air.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #the big adventures universe

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peachsayshi · 10 months

Note

I'm more interested in hearing ur hcs for JJK as dads:)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: fluff

wc: 1,104

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ girl dad hc's (gojo, geto, nanami, choso) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

...gojo stares at his baby girl like she's the secret to the universe's mysteries. there is no denying his strong attachment towards her, which is why the first thing he does when he returns home from a long trip away is see her. he watches with big, proud eyes as she waddles over to him, her small feet pattering lightly against the wooden floor of your home. she's still figuring out her words, squealing with excitement as he meets her halfway with two long strides. he arches his tall body forward, scooping her up in his arms before smothering her with kisses on each cheek.

she's so happy when he’s around, and it makes your chest feel tight, your ribs unable to contain the love pouring out from the valves of your heart.

"god, I missed my girls..." satoru breaths as she wraps her arms around his neck and rests her cheek on his shoulder. he turns on his heel to look at you, eyes filled with devotion and sheer gratitude. he places such a sweet, tender kiss on your lips before stating, "maybe we should take a vacation soon, just the three of us."

...geto thinks it's strange that only two years ago he regarded you as a stranger. now, you're fast asleep on his sofa, with mimiko on your lap and nanako on your shoulder. he checks the time to see just how late it is before turning off the tv and reaching for mimiko first. he brushes the hair away from her face, carefully lifting her up while smiling to himself when he feels her body naturally seek out his. the vacancy prompts you to flutter your eyelashes open, adjusting to the darkness of the room, and by the time you're fully aware of what's going on, you notice that he's picking up nanako as well.

"easy, sweetheart," he whispers softly, "just taking them to bed."

you meet him in his room afterwards, taking his hand as he draws you onto his lap. you rub your tired eyes as you mumble a hello, feeling his gentle kiss travel down the column of your neck, while his delicate fingers slip underneath your shirt to sprawl across the bump of your belly. he sighs into your neck, easing his mind of the noisy thoughts as he touches the life he's created with you.

...nanami arches his brow at the distraught expression on his daughter's face, her cheeks are so pink and her eyes are still welling with hot tears. the look is enough to crumple him like he's a flimsy sheet of paper, but he's holding his composed expression as to not worry her. instead, he shifts his attention down to the open wound on her knee - a nasty little cut unfortunately, but one that he's already carefully cleaned up. "there now, my darling..." he soothes with his deep voice, as he thoughtfully places the band aid over the injury, "we're all done."

she's still sniffling, her hands gripping tightly onto her dress. "still hurts, papa..." she whimpers. he eases the tension between his brow, before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her knee. "better?" he asks, gazing up at her from underneath his blonde lashes, but she simply bites her lip and shakes her head no.

nanami picks her up, holding her close to his chest as he holds a pensive look on his face. "what else can we possibly do, hmm?" he coos into her temple as he leaves another kiss in place. she continues to sniffle, tiny hands clutching onto his shirt which she uses to wipe away her falling tears. "uhm, maybe...maybe we can get ice cream?"

her innocent tone is enough to make him smile with relief, and he glances over his shoulder to catch you shaking your head playfully in his direction, but even you can't stop yourself from grinning as you watch your baby girl twist your husband around her little finger.

...choso smiles at his daughter's reflection in the mirror. her hands reach for the pig tails in her hair, and she touches it before turning over her shoulder to gaze up at him. "I look like you, papa!" she remarks with pure joy, and choso can't help but bend over and kiss the top of her ahead affectionately. "you're the prettiest girl in the world, precious."

her cheeks turn rosy from how bright she's smiling. she stands on her feet, barely able to make direct eye contact with her father who is seated cross legged with his body upright. he has to hunch over a little, obliging her demand of placing his jaw against the palms of her delicate hands so she can hold him. "no, you're the prettiest in the world," she responds and the man melts into her touch almost instantly. he circles two fingers around her wrists to kiss her digits, then leaning forward to plant another one on the tip of her nose. "I'm afraid there's no competition."

she babbles on as he looks at her with amusement. fatherhood was never part of his plan, and he wasn't even sure how he would take to it when you told him you were pregnant, but it’s been four years down the line and he's the happiest he's ever been. he can hear you call for them from the kitchen, and carries his daughter in his arms before exiting the bedroom.

he seats her comfortably on the dining chair, lightly pinching her cheek as he announces that he will be right back. he finds you in the kitchen scooping out rice into the bowl, and takes the opportunity to circle his arms around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

you ease into his embrace as you serve the last amount before tilting your head slightly to kiss him softly on the cheek, "something on your mind?"

he sighs heavily when you turn on your heel, stealing a kiss in between before murmuring sweetly against your lips: "I want another baby"

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #choso x reader #choso x you #choso fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #jjk fan fics

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lostfracturess · 3 months

Text

【 ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇꜱ 】 ch. 03

x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

x wc 6.9 k

x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

x author's note i hope you like slightly longer chapters, i didn't know when to stop with this one really. anyway, thank you for reading and feel free to leave your thought, i love to read them! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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"So, anyone else feeling like their brain is about to explode?" you half-joked.

Yuta looked up from his notes and nodded. "Definitely. I keep getting the side effects of beta-blockers and ACE inhibitors mixed up."

The university cafeteria buzzed with the nervous energy of students prepping for exams. You joined Toge, Yuta, and Maki at a corner table, each of you clutching a much-needed coffee. The air was thick with the scent of caffeine and the sound of pages flipping.

"Statins?" Toge muttered as he rubbed his temple.

"They're primarily for lowering cholesterol levels," Maki answered quickly.

Yuta let out a frustrated sigh. "Right, right. And anticoagulants? I still can't wrap my head around those."

You leaned forward. "Anticoagulants inhibit clotting factors in the blood. They're essential in preventing thrombosis and strokes."

Yuta gave a resigned look. "You two sound like walking textbooks. I'm sure I'll fail."

"No, Yuta, you've got this," you reassured him, though he seemed to be brainstorming backup career options already.

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the cafeteria shifted as Gojo and Geto entered. It seemed like the crowd naturally parted for them, their confident strides carrying them through the sea of students. You found your gaze irresistibly drawn to them as they joined the line, chatting casually.

Gojo's eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on your group. His gaze met yours for a brief moment. Your stomach fluttered. Was it the intensity of his gaze or the fleeting memory of the dozens of painkillers in his car? Perhaps both.

Geto also turned around. He broke into a warm smile as he saw you.

Hm, at least he was not angry with you anymore.

"Looks like the big guns are here," Yuta joked under his breath, nodding toward Gojo and Geto. "Do you think they ever get exam jitters?"

"Doubt it," Toge said.

Maki rolled her eyes. "Focus, guys. We need to ace this exam."

Your group returned to your notes. Gojo and Geto picked up their coffee and found a seat not too far from yours, granting you an unobstructed view of Gojo. You tried to concentrate, but part of you remained acutely aware of his presence.

Every so often, you stole glances at him, watching how he discussed something with Geto. His muscles flexed subtly with each animated gesture he made. There was an undeniable air of confidence that radiated from him, making him stand out effortlessly in the crowd.

He was dressed in his usual white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the intriguing play of veins along his well-defined forearms. The dark blue slacks he wore were tailored to perfection.

His disheveled white hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it. You could see his jaw flexing as he articulated his points, each movement emphasizing the sharp lines of his face.

The sight was distracting, to say the least.

As you watched them, you couldn't help but think back to what Gojo had said to you in his car-how he had the audacity to accuse you of wanting to have a threesome with them. Heat rose to your cheeks.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Maki's voice pulled you back to reality.

You blinked. "Sorry, just got distracted for a moment."

Yet Gojo's presence lingered in your periphery. You stole another glance at Gojo, only to find him already looking at you. His lips curved into a faint smile.

Suddenly, you noticed that Geto's eyes were on you as well. The moment his gaze met yours, you felt caught like a deer in headlights. You quickly looked away. Geto said something to Gojo. Gojo merely shrugged, his expression unreadable, but the faintest smile played on his lips.

The rest of the time in the cafeteria passed in a blur.

While you and your friends were engrossed in a last-minute review, Gojo and Geto began gathering their things to leave. They stood up and chatted casually as they strolled towards the exit, which happened to be in your direction.

Yuta checked his watch. "Time to head out for the exam." You all started to pack up. As you rose from the table, a sudden presence brushed against your back, making you turn.

"Oh, sorry about that," Gojo said. But there was a twinkle in his eye that suggested the touch wasn't entirely accidental. Before you could react, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Good luck with the exam. Though, something tells me you won't need it."

Gojo straightened. His gaze held you captive. You watched as he and Geto made their way out, with Geto swatting Gojo on the back of his head as they left.

"You're so fucked," Maki commented dryly, catching you watching them.

─── ·✧· ───

A week had passed since the exam.

Life at the university had returned to its usual rhythm. You were in class with Toge, Maki and Yuta, the lecturer's voice a steady drone in the background as you all scribbled notes. Midway through the lecture, your phone that lay on your desk lit up with a message.

[3:32 PM] Gojo: Meet me in the lab after class.

[3:32 PM] Gojo: Btw, you passed your exam. Congrats. Got a little gift for you too.

You stared at the message, puzzled. It was unusual for professors to have exam results ready just a week after. How did Gojo know?

[3:33 PM] You: What gift?

[3:33 PM] Gojo: It's a surprise. Why spoil it now? Come and see.

[3:33 PM] You: What about my friends Okkotsu, Zenin and Inumaki? Did they pass too?

[3:34 PM] Gojo: Can't say. I may have obtained your exam result in an unethical way.

[3:34 PM] You: Oh, too bad. Guess I must skip the lab today then.

[3:34 PM] Gojo: Are you fucking with me?

You didn't reply to that.

After all, he wasn't the only one capable of playing games. You set your phone down, a slight smile on your lips as you turned your attention back to the lecture.

[3:52 PM] Gojo: They also passed.

[3:52 PM] You: Great. See you in the lab.

You turned to your friends. "We all passed the exam," you announced in a hushed tone.

Maki's eyes widened. "Seriously? How do you know that already?"

"Unethical ways."

Yuta let out a deep sigh. "Shit, that's some great news," he murmured, his usual worry lines smoothing out.

Toge nodded with a satisfied sound.

Suddenly the professor, who had been lecturing about biochemistry, paused and glanced sternly in your direction. "If we could have less chatter and more focus, please."

Your group quickly composed themselves and turned their attention back to the lecture. Yuta shot you a last smile.

As the lecture came to a close, you and your friends gathered your belongings and made your way out of the auditorium. The hallway outside was bustling with students discussing the lecture and making plans for the rest of the day.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am. I was sure I botched the beta-blocker section," Yuta said as you walked.

You suddenly spotted Gojo casually leaning against a wall across from you, his arms crossed over his chest. His piercing gaze instantly locked onto you as you exited the auditorium. He tapped his fingers on his folded arms.

As your group began to drift towards the exit, you halted in your tracks. "You guys go ahead. I've got something to take care of after class."

"Alright, catch you tomorrow then," Yuta replied, clapping you on the shoulder.

You lingered in the hallway, waiting for the last students to leave. The corridor quieted, leaving you and Gojo alone. His intense gaze never wavered. He pushed himself away from the wall and strolled over to you.

"You've got quite the nerve, first-year," Gojo remarked.

You met his gaze squarely. "I could say the same about you, professor. Perhaps we should be more careful about being seen together outside the lab."

Gojo flashed a mischievous smile. "Concerned about starting rumors?"

"It's your reputation on the line, not mine."

"Ouch," he said, putting a hand over his heart in mock offense. "And here I am, offering to escort you. That's quite gentlemanly, don't you think? Even after you managed to rile me up."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of walking myself."

He leaned closer. "I know, perhaps I just want to spend more time with you." He started to walk towards the lab. "Come, I have something to show you. Something tells me you'll love it."

─── ·✧· ───

Once inside the lab, Gojo led you to a table where a mysterious box lay hidden under a cloth. With a dramatic gesture, he pulled away the cover, revealing what he had teased as a 'gift'.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sight. "A brain?" you said, then turned to Gojo. "You have quite a unique way of pleasing a woman."

Gojo's smile broadened. "It's a human brain, specifically for us to practice on. I figured some hands-on training might be beneficial for the surgery, so I got us a few. It's a first for me too, so I thought, why not be thorough?"

You stepped closer to the table and peered at the brain encased in its protective glass. You grabbed the preserved organ and held it up, mesmerized by the sight.

Gojo watched your reaction. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is." You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away. "Where did you get them?"

"Let's just say I had to pull some strings. Rest assured, they're from deceased donors, ethically sourced, of course."

"I know you've been worried about making another mistake in surgery," he said, his voice softening. "So, I figured the best way to prepare us is with hands-on practice."

You turned to face him.

"We'll use these brains to meticulously go through each step of the procedure," he continued. "It's the closest we can get to the real experience. Practicing on actual human tissue like this will provide a depth of understanding that no model can match. By the end, you'll be thoroughly prepared for the surgery."

You placed the brain back on the table. "You did this for me?"

"I would do anything for you." Gojo closed the distance between you. He stood unusually close, his presence almost enveloping you. He leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the table on either side of you, holding you captive between his arms.

Your back hit the edge of the table. You leaned back, trying to regain some distance. "What are you doing?"

He held your gaze, a hint of playfulness returning to his voice. "But just so you know, I have my ways of pleasing a woman. And not just by gifting her a human brain."

You leaned back even more. "Is that so?"

However, the distance was quickly closed by Gojo as he leaned in even closer. His breath warm and close, his lips almost grazing yours. "Absolutely," he murmured. "I'd be more than willing to demonstrate, if you're interested."

You raised an eyebrow, your heart racing. "Forward as always, Gojo."

Suddenly, in one swift motion, he reached out. His hands grasped the back of your thighs. Before you could react, you found yourself falling back onto the table. Your breath hitched. Gojo leaned over you, his blue eyes intense and piercing.

"You have no idea," he murmured, his voice deep and resonant. "If you weren't my student, I'd have already shown you just how forward I can be." His words were laced with an implication that sent a thrill through you. "'Be sure, I am a patient man, but even I have my limits."

His hand traced a path along the back of your thigh, the other firmly planted on the table above your head. Trapped in his gaze, you were acutely aware of every point of contact, the heat emanating from his body, and the undeniable pull you felt towards him.

"Maybe you should consider not seducing your student, then," you countered, your voice faltering slightly, betraying the effect he had on you. Your body seemed to act on its own accord, your legs instinctively drawing closer to him, as he stood between your parted legs.

"You could tell me to stop at any moment, yet you haven't," he said. "Interesting, isn't it? It's almost as if you're as curious as I am about where this might lead."

His face drew nearer, the space between you shrinking with each passing moment. Your breaths mingled. Your hand wandered to his arm, grabbing onto him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt.

Your body craved his touch, despite the rational part of your mind screaming caution. But in that moment, it was impossible to resist the magnetic pull that drew you closer to him. You found yourself inching closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

His gaze held you captive, and you felt as though he had the power to steal your very breath with a simple look.

Oh god.

If anyone were to walk into the lab now, there would be no plausible explanation for this compromising position.

His breath was warm on your skin, tantalizingly close to your collarbone. "But don't worry, first-year. I do love a good challenge. Especially one as intriguing as you."

His body pressed against your open legs. In this position you could clearly feel the stretch in his pants. Your core melted. "There's just something about the way you resist, yet-not quite."

His hand ventured to the inside of your thigh. His fingers traced a path along your skin, edging daringly close. You arched into his touch. His lips caressed your collarbone, his touch light as a feather. The anticipation was nearly unbearable, a delicious torture that held you in its grip.

"Even though your body betrays you every single time," he said before tightening his grip on your thigh. He pressed closer to you, the unmistakable hardness of his erection grinding against you.

A moan escaped your lips and you could feel him smile against your skin. He lifts his head just enough to peer into your eyes. "Oh sweetheart, I'm dying to hear you moan my name."

Just as Gojo's fingers came dangerously close to brushing the sensitive area between your legs, he withdrew abruptly, leaving a void where his warmth had been. He straightened, a semblance of control returning to his expression. "Perhaps it's time we should get to work, don't you think?"

Was he for real?

You lay there for a moment, panting heavily. Pulling yourself up to your elbows, you managed a breathless, "What?"

Gojo, now a few steps away, nonchalantly adjusted his pants, something inside of them clearly troubling him. "We have a surgery to prepare for, remember?"

He said that as if he hadn't just nearly fucked you on the lab table.

You sit up completely. "I hate you."

Gojo chuckled. "You're so easy to play with, first-year," he remarked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Consider it payback for making me 'borrow' your friends' exam results from my colleague's laptop."

You watched him for a moment, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. The way he could shift so effortlessly from intense intimacy to professional demeanor was both infuriating and intriguing.

With a groan, you let yourself fall back onto the desk and stared up at the ceiling. As you lay there, you heard Gojo walk away, his footsteps echoing through the lab. "Leaving already, Gojo? Need a quick break to blow off some steam?"

Gojo returned a moment later with a tray of surgical tools. He shot you a sly grin. "Why? Interested in watching?"

"Keep dreaming."

Gojo laughed. "You're quite amusing, first-year. We both know you'll surrender sooner or later. But don't worry, I can wait."

He began meticulously arranging the surgical tools, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. "Ready to begin?" he asked, glancing over at you.

You nodded.

─── ·✧· ───

In the following weeks, your routine consisted of meeting in the lab every day after class to prepare for the surgery.

The sessions were rigorous. Gojo's dedication to perfection and precision became more apparent with each passing day. He was a taskmaster in the truest sense, his expectations high and his attention to detail almost obsessive.

You thought Geto was strict, but Gojo operated on an entirely different level. His standards were exacting. He accepted nothing less than absolute precision. Every incision, every maneuver you practiced under his watchful eyes had to be flawless.

Maybe he was a maniac.

He sure was a maniac.

It was late.

You were hungry and tired.

However, once more, you and Gojo stood side by side to rehearse the procedure yet again.

"Now, stabilize the area while I insert the implant," Gojo instructed. You reached for the micro-surgical tool on the nearby desk and followed his directions precisely, maintaining a calm and steady breath to steady your hands.

Gojo led the way with inhuman precision. You mirrored his movements flawlessly. "Gently retract the meningeal layer," he guided. "Perfect, now hold it steady."

As the hours ticked away, you repeated the procedure over and over. With each repetition, you drew closer to seamless synchronization, your actions becoming increasingly fluid and intuitive.

"Stay concentrated, we're almost there."

You slowed your breathing. "Inserting the implant now," Gojo said. Your eyes followed Gojo's hands as they maneuvered the tiny neuroimplant. "Hold steady," he murmured. "Slight adjustment to the left, that's it."

It was then that you noticed the slight trembling of his hands. In the blink of an eye, the tool in his hand slipped ever so slightly, causing a visible tear in the brain tissue.

"Damn it," Gojo muttered. "I'm sorry. Let's reset and try again."

The second attempt began much like the first, perfectly in sync. You both worked in silence. The only sound your synchronized breathing and the steady hum of the overhead lights.

But the second attempt didn't go as planned either. A small but significant misstep by Gojo resulted in further damage to the fragile brain. After the third failed attempt, Gojo took a step back from the table. His hands trembled.

"Fuck," Gojo hissed again, tearing off his gloves. He ran his fingers through his hair.

You set the instruments back on the table. "What's wrong? You good?"

It was unusual. He never made such mistakes. He always had the most steady hands, so why was he struggling with every attempt now?

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need a break," he said, frustration etching lines on his forehead. He walked over to a nearby bench, where a forgotten cup of coffee rested. He picked it up with a shaking hand. You observed him closely.

"Gojo, your hands..."

"I'm fine."

Oh, he was so clearly lying.

You walked over to him. "Don't tell me shit, what's going-?"

But before the words fully escaped your lips, Gojo's hand cramped. In an instant, the porcelain succumbed, shattering in his clenched fist. Coffee spilled over the bench in a dark, staining flood. A sharp curse escaped him as he released the jagged remains of the cup.

You bridged the distance between you. "God, Gojo," you exclaimed, quickly clasping his injured hand. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing."

"Yeah, keep lying to me," you retorted, locking eyes with him. "Sit down."

"It's merely a scratch."

"Just sit down, Gojo. Let me take a look at your hand."

With a sigh, he sank into the chair, watching you as you gathered the medical supplies.

"Fortunate it's your left hand," you remarked, pulling up a chair to sit beside him. You cradled his hand in your lap. Porcelain shards were buried in his palm and fingers, blood began to pool around the punctures. "Looks like you'll need a few stitches."

"I'm not sure I should trust someone to stitch me up who struggles to even find a vein," he quipped. "You know, this is a surgeon's hand."

His attempt at humor fell flat. You were not in the mood for jokes. He flinched when you started to remove the porcelain fragments with tweezers.

"Don't worry. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's stitching up wounds," you said quietly.

You meticulously removed each fragment. The room was silent, punctuated only by the occasional clatter of tools. After ensuring no debris remained, you cleansed the wounds.

Unfolding a suture kit, you glanced at Gojo. "This might sting," you cautioned, beginning to stitch the deeper gashes.

Gojo's jaw clenched. He remained silent, his eyes following your every move. After a while, he spoke, breaking the quiet. "You're pretty good at this. How did you learn to stitch so well?"

Your hands paused briefly, surprised by the question. "I mentioned my mother wasn't the same after my father's death. That's how I learned it."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his gaze shifting away.

You completed the last stitch and bandaged his hand carefully. "There, all done." Standing up, you began to clean the area. Gojo flexed his fingers, testing the mobility.

"Thank you," he said. "It's really good."

Without facing him, you asked, "You won't tell me what's wrong, will you?"

His silence was your answer.

A sigh escaped you. Gojo then stood, breaking the momentary stillness. "I need to grab something from my office. I'll be back soon," he said, his tone somewhat distant.

You nodded and watched as he left the lab. The door clicked shut, its sound echoing faintly in the now empty space. The quiet hum of the lab enveloped you.

Time ticked by, and the lab's clock hands moved steadily forward. The quiet was pervasive, broken only by the occasional sounds of the building settling for the night. You glanced occasionally at the door, expecting Gojo to return, but there was no sign of him.

He did not return to the lab that night.

And he was not in the lab the next day.

─── ·✧· ───

"Can you imagine having surgery with these?"

Yuta joked, pointing at a set of rusty scalpels. His face scrunched up in mock horror.

Maki laughed. "I'd rather not. Makes me appreciate modern anesthesia."

Toge added a quick quip, "Unbelievable."

You and your friends decided to visit the local museum. Today, it was hosting a special medical exhibit, which naturally piqued your interest. The warm sunlight filtered through the museum's large windows, casting a golden glow over the exhibits.

As you walked through the halls, the exhibit unfolded in a series of medical histories and advances. There were sections dedicated to ancient medical practices, rows of archaic surgical tools that seemed more like medieval torture devices, and interactive displays on modern surgical techniques.

Amidst the array of exhibits, one particular section caught your eye. To the casual visitor, the subject matter might seem unappealing, but you found it absolutely fascinating.

You excused yourself from your friends and approached the exhibit. It was a quiet corner of the museum, away from the more popular attractions.

You were so engrossed in reading a panel that you hardly noticed the approach of another visitor. It wasn't until you heard a familiar voice nearby. Your heart froze for a moment.

"I knew you'd be drawn to this," Gojo remarked, his presence suddenly beside you. He was observing the same exhibit, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Stalking me again, professor?"

"Purely coincidental, I assure you. I couldn't pass up this exhibition. Turns out, today's the only chance to see it."

You turned to face him. "You've got some nerve, Gojo. You left me alone in the lab, disappeared without a word, and then ignored all my messages. You can't just act like nothing happened."

His face softened. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to hurt you."

"If something's wrong, you need to tell me. This isn't just your project, Gojo. It's still Geto's project too. Your actions will not only affect me, but him as well."

"You're right."

Exhaling sharply, turning your attention back to the exhibit.

After a moment of silence, Gojo spoke again. "What are you doing afterwards?"

You turned slightly. "Hm?"

"Go out with me."

His invitation hung in the air between you, leaving you momentarily speechless. You turned to him, searching his expression for clues. "Go out... as in a date?"

"Call it whatever you want," he said. "I just want to spend time with you."

"This will only lead to trouble, you know that."

Undeterred, he stepped closer. His bandaged hand gently lifted your chin, urging you to meet his gaze. His height forced you to tilt your head back.

"I'm aware of that," he said. "But I don't care. I can't ignore this any longer... whatever this is between us. And I don't think you can either."

"Give me a chance," he implored, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that felt almost tangible. "One evening. That's all I'm asking."

Time seemed to stretch out as you mulled over his request. "One evening?"

"One evening."

"Okay, one evening," you agreed.

A subtle smile played on Gojo's lips. "I'll wait for you outside."

Then he leaned in, as if to steal a kiss. But the sound of approaching footsteps quickly halted him. He withdrew his hand, leaving a trace of warmth where his touch had been.

"Talk about a small world," Yuta exclaimed, his eyes landing on you and Gojo, who was already keeping a professional distance.

Maki approached Gojo with a friendly greeting. "Quite a surprise seeing you here, professor."

Gojo responded with his usual charm. "Ah, the future of medicine, all gathered in one spot. Seems I'm not the only one drawn to this exhibition."

"I hope you're not here to quiz us, Dr. Gojo. We've had our fill of exams for a while," Maki said.

"I wouldn't dream of torturing my students outside of class."

Toge muttered something under his breath, earning a playful nudge from Yuta. "Don't jinx it," Yuta whispered.

The group moved through the exhibition together, with Gojo occasionally offering insightful comments. Eventually, he parted ways with you and your friends. He cast one last glance in your direction before saying goodbye.

As you and your friends continued exploring the museum, Maki nudged you playfully. "It's funny how Dr. Handsome always seems to be around you, isn't it?"

"It's just a strange coincidence."

"Yeah, sure."

You rolled your eyes.

The rest of the museum visit passed in a light-hearted mood, with occasional teasing from Maki about Gojo. The sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful golden hue over the city streets as you made your way out.

"Oh, wait," you said suddenly, patting your pockets as if searching for something. "I think I left something back in the museum. You guys go ahead; I'll catch up."

Yuta looked concerned. "Do you need someone to go back with you?"

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I won't be long. Don't miss the train on my account."

After a moment of hesitation, your friends agreed and continued towards the subway station. You waited until they were out of sight, then went back to the museums's entrance.

"Hey, first-year."

Gojo's voice came from behind, startling you slightly. You turned to find him approaching with two cups of coffee in hand, steam rising into the evening air. His face lit up with a smile as he saw you waiting.

He handed you one of the cups. "Thought you might like some coffee. Just regular, though-no Red Bull mixed in, sorry," he said, a playful tone in his voice.

"How disappointing."

"Shall we go for a walk?"

You nodded.

The bustling sounds of the city surrounded you, the sky painted in vibrant oranges and pinks by the setting sun. The streets pulsed with the city's evening energy. Walking alongside Gojo, you sipped the warm coffee.

"Aren't you afraid of someone seeing us?" you asked, glancing around subtly.

"Are you?"

"It's not like we're making out or anything," he added. "Unless you'd like to?"

"Don't push it, Gojo."

Your gaze fell on his bandaged hand. "How's your hand, by the way?"

He switched the cup to his other hand and flexed the injured one. "It's healing well. Thankfully, a really skilled surgeon took care of it."

You rolled your eyes.

"Are you nervous about the upcoming surgery?" he asked.

"I am," you confessed. "You never seem to get nervous."

"Well, that's because I'm an exceptional neurosurgeon."

"Ah, sure, I forgot. You're the miracle doctor."

"Not really," he said. "I mean, I've always had a knack for it, but university wasn't always easy. It took a lot of effort to get to where I am now. Just like you. We're not that different, you know."

You observed him for a moment before asking, "Why neurosurgery?"

"Could ask you the same. What made you choose neurosurgery?"

"Why would I choose any another field when neurology exists?"

He chuckled. "Thought so."

"Plus, the patients are usually sedated, so that's a plus for surgery," you added.

"Ah, the mark of a true neurosurgeon's ego."

The evening had deepened, and a chill began to settle in the air as you and Gojo walked through the city streets. The vibrant energy of the day had given way to the serene calmness of the night.

Streetlights cast a soft glow on the pavement, and the occasional sound of distant laughter and the hum of a passing car filled the air.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as a cool breeze seeped through your clothes. Without a moment's hesitation, Gojo halted and began to take off his jacket. "Here, wear this," he offered, draping it over your shoulders.

"But won't you be cold?" you asked, concerned as he would be left in just his shirt.

He simply smiled. "I'll be fine."

You slipped into his jacket, the sleeves oddly long on your arms. It was warm and carried the faint scent of his cologne.

Gojo seemed unfazed by the drop in temperature as he watched you. He raised his hand to your face and ran his thumb gently over your cheek. His gaze fell to your lips. The bustling city street seemed to fade into the background as Gojo's proximity enveloped you.

People passed by, a sea of faces lost in their own worlds, their voices fading to a distant hum as you and Gojo stood in your own intimate world. His thumb brushed over your lips, parting them slightly.

"Tell me, do you ever wonder what it would be like if we gave in?"

"For someone who says he's patient, you're really pushing it, Gojo."

Gojo's eyes darkened. His gaze locked onto your lips as he leaned in just a fraction closer. The world around you blurred, the bustling street becoming nothing more than a distant backdrop.

Gojo's lips curled into a seductive smile. "Maybe you're just too irresistible."

"Or maybe you only want me because you can't have me."

"Whatever the reason, first-year. The important thing is that we both want it."

The chemistry between you two was undeniable, the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment. You leaned in closer, your lips tantalizingly close to his. "And what do you want, professor?" you whispered.

You both knew the risks, the lines that shouldn't be crossed, but in that charged moment, it was so damn hard to resist. Every inch of your body craved for his touch.

His hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you closer, eliminating any space between you. "I want to taste those lips of yours, to feel your body pressed against mine."

You breathed in each other's air as his parted lips hovered dangerously close to yours, yet not making contact. "I want to hear you scream my name," he whispered as he pulled you even closer with a sudden tug. His fingers dug into your back in a way that was almost painful. "Hear your soft pleas all night long."

Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires.

Without a second thought, Gojo turned you around, using his own body to shield you from the street. Not far from where you stood, a horrific car crash had unfolded. One of the vehicles went airborne before crashing onto its roof with a sickening thud.

For a moment, you both stood frozen, processing what had just happened. People began screaming and gathering around the site of the accident. Without having to exchange a word, you and Gojo sprang into action, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Gojo sprinted towards the mangled car, while you rushed to help the other vehicle.

As you reached the car, you saw the driver still inside, his head resting against the inflated airbag. You pushed open the driver's door. The man lifted his head slightly, blood dripping from a gash on his temple.

"We're here to help," you said. "Can you tell me your name?"

The driver mumbled something incoherent, his eyes struggling to focus. You carefully assessed the driver's condition, checking for any obvious signs of injury. His airway appeared to be clear, and he was breathing, albeit shallowly.

You continued to talk to the driver, trying to keep him conscious and engaged. "You've been in an accident, but we're going to get you out of here safely. Can you tell me if you're experiencing any pain?"

He didn't respond. You gently touched his head to tilt it towards you. You probed around the wound on his temple, checking for any underlying skull fractures or deformities.

"Do you know where you are? Can you tell me what happened?" you asked, trying to gauge his cognitive function. The man tried to speak, but nothing intelligible came out. His speech was slurred, and he seemed to be losing focus.

Then you heard a strained sound that resembled Gojo's voice. Looking up, you saw Gojo straining against the wreckage of the other car, trying to free the trapped driver. A nearby bystander was helping him.

You turned back to the driver in front of you. "Please stay still and try not to move until help arrives, okay?"

You went to a nearby bystander and instructed him to go to the driver and keep him still and engaged in speech. You hurried over to Gojo. He carefully pulled the woman out of the mangled car and laid her gently on the asphalt. Gojo hovered over her, checking her vitals.

"She's barely breathing." He leaned in to listen to her labored breaths. "She needs an emergency tracheotomy, now."

"What?"

Your heart raced at the thought. There's no way you could do that here.

"Your jacket pocket, the right one," he instructed urgently.

Still wearing his jacket, you quickly reached into the right pocket. Your fingers found something, and you retrieved it. It was a sealed straw from the coffee Gojo had bought earlier. You handed it to him without a word.

"Now, the inner pocket on your left."

Reaching into the inner pocket, your fingers found a small, elongated case. "What's that?" you asked as you handed it over to him.

He opened the case, revealing a scalpel.

"You keep a scalpel with you all the time?" you exclaimed.

He briefly looked up at you with a sly smile. "Quite handy right now, don't you think?"

Without wasting a second, Gojo made a small incision in the driver's throat, skillfully inserting the straw to create an airway. It was unorthodox, to say the least.

Just then, you noticed a trickle of blood seeping through the sleeve of his shirt. "You're bleeding," you said. He must have injured himself on the jagged metal while freeing the woman from the crashed car.

Gojo glanced down at his arm. "It's nothing."

The wail of the sirens grew louder as the paramedics arrived, quickly taking control of the situation. Gojo immediately began briefing them on the condition of the injured.

"I'll go with them to the hospital," he said, preparing to accompany the paramedics. But as he turned to leave, you grabbed his shirt.

"I'm coming with you."

"You should go home, get some rest."

"You wanted to spend time with me, so spend time with me, Gojo." You looked at him. "You wanted a whole evening, and it's not midnight yet."

He pondered for a moment. "Then come."

Climbing into the ambulance, you found yourself in the midst of medical equipment and the paramedics as they worked to stabilize the driver during the transport. The confined space was filled with the sound of medical equipment and hushed, urgent conversations.

Gojo relayed the details of the incident to the team. It seemed as if he knew them, as he addressed them by name.

As you glanced at Gojo's arm, the bloodstain on his shirt was growing. You turned to one of the paramedics. "I need antiseptic and gauze."

The paramedic seemed a little taken aback by your firm tone.

"Now," you clarified.

"Uh, right here," he replied, pointing toward a nearby drawer.

"What are you doing?" Gojo asked as you moved around the ambulance like you owned the place.

You sat down beside him and seized his arm, rolling up his sleeve. His firm skin felt hot under your touch as you cleaned his wound. "You really are my personal doctor, aren't you?" he remarked, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"You should just take better care of yourself."

His eyes locked onto yours. "I guess I do need someone to watch out for me. Also, with your perfect stitching skills, I'd never let anyone else touch me."

You huffed.

"Quite a first date, huh?" you quipped as you continued tending to his arm.

"So it is a date?"

"In your dreams, Gojo."

Then the ambulance arrived at the hospital.

Upon arriving at the hospital, the atmosphere was a flurry of activity as medical professionals worked diligently to care for the injured. Gojo quickly turned to you.

"Wait for me in my office," he instructed, handing you a set of keys. "I need to assist here and finish the necessary paperwork. I shouldn't be long."

You nodded. Before you could react, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Then, without another word, he left. Your heart raced.

Clutching the keys, you made your way through the corridors of the hospital, searching for Gojo's office number, which was written on the keys. The adrenaline that had fueled your body slowly faded, leaving a trail of exhaustion in its wake.

Entering his office, you were greeted by bookshelves lining one wall, filled with medical texts and various journals, while a desk cluttered with papers and a laptop occupied another corner. The room looked quite different from his office at the university. Still, it had a warmth to it.

It even had his scent.

You looked down at your clothes, stained and dishevelled from the night's chaos. You rummaged through Gojo's belongings and found what looked like a gym bag. Inside, you found a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants. They were undoubtedly his, large and probably loose on you, but they were clean.

He wouldn't mind, would he?

You looked down on yourself again.

Yeah, whatever-even if he mind.

It felt strange to change into his clothes, but at the same time oddly comforting as you noticed his faint scent on them. You sank into the couch in his office, the events of the night replaying in your mind. The room was quiet, except for the distant sounds of the hospital at night.

You gazed up at the ceiling, then turned on your side and closed your eyes. Exhaustion gradually overcame you until sleep began to claim you.

Sometime later, the sound of the door gently opening stirred you from your sleep. Through half-closed eyes, you saw Gojo enter the room. He paused for a moment at the sight of you sleeping on his couch, a soft expression crossing his face.

"Gojo?" you murmured, your voice still heavy with sleep.

He moved quietly toward you, dropping to his knees before the couch. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," you replied, still wrapped in the warmth of his clothes. "How are the drivers?"

"They're stable. Don't worry."

Then he stood up again and moved to lie down on the couch behind you. You shifted slightly to give him more space, feeling his presence close to you. "How's your arm?" you asked him. Gojo settled down on the couch behind you, a soft sigh escaping him as he found a comfortable position.

"My arm's fine," he reassured you with a soft smile. "Thanks to you."

You turned onto your back, your eyes meeting his as he propped himself up on one elbow. His face hovered close to yours. "They look good on you." His hand reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "My clothes," he added.

"Sorry, I just wanted to get out of my dirty clothes."

"I don't mind."

A smile played at the corners of his lips. "You should've seen yourself out there," he said. "You really bossed those paramedics around. I'm sure they'll remember you."

"Well, if you keep hurting yourself, guess I'll have to keep patching you up."

Gojo's laughter filled the room, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled at you. "You can stitch me up anytime, doc."

"You better not make a habit out of this."

He chuckled softly, his thumb gently stroking your shoulder. "I'll try my best."

Lying there, side by side, you both gazed into each other's eyes. The room was filled with the soft light of the moon outside, casting gentle shadows across his face. Silence settled between you, the only sounds in the room were the soft breaths you both took.

"We do make a good team, don't we?" Gojo's voice broke the silence. "And I'm not just talking about in the OR."

"Are you implying something?"

"Nah, never."

As you let out a yawn, Gojo adjusted his position, lying down beside you. "Come here," he said softly. His arm encircled your shoulder, drawing you close to him.

Instinctively, you nestled into him, your head finding a comfortable spot against his chest. His heartbeat, strong and steady beneath your ear.

The warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath, brought a sense of safety and calm. You could feel the tension of the day slowly ebbing away. His fingers trailed lightly across your back, drawing absent patterns.

"You know, this is quite close for a student and a professor," you muffled against his chest.

"Is it? Should I go?"

Your fingers gripped his shirt, holding him in place. "No," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't go."

A smile played on his lips. "I'm not leaving you," he whispered. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Then, he cuddled closer, the distance between you seeming to disappear.

Gradually, sleep began to claim you both. You drifted off, entwined in each other's arm. The office was quiet, save for the soft sound of your synchronized breathing and the faint, distant echoes of the hospital's nocturnal life.

Tomorrow, maybe, you would care about the consequences.

But not today. Not in his arms.

─── ·✧· ───

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

x a/n: i hope you like slightly longer chapters, i didn't know when to stop with this one really. anyway, thank you for reading and feel free to leave your thought, i love to read them! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved

#gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x female reader #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut

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sugar-grigri · 3 months

Text

Nayuta must become the big sister

I think what's especially interesting to note in chapter 154 is Nayuta's failure to use the right tactics.

Denji raised Nayuta correctly, emphasizing going to school, trying to control her possessive outbursts while being extremely present for her. In short, he nurtured her, giving her the protection he hadn't enjoyed as a child himself.

Although Nayuta knows her own nature and instincts, and is not naturally altruistic, she still looks at herself in a certain way: from society's point of view, and from her own, she is a child.

What I'm trying to say is that it's not insignificant to have Makima reincarnated; we could very well have had Nayuta, already an adult, because she's a devil who doesn't grow up. Nayuta already seems to grow up much faster than humans, so Fujimoto could very well have decided that a demon, especially a knight of the apocalypse, should already be born as an adult.

She grew up more quickly, and by the time Denji had finished devouring Makima, she already had the appearance of a 4/5-year-old child.

Fujimoto made Nayuta a child, because it's this state of being that makes her a control demon so paradoxical. Indeed, if Makima was so powerful, it wasn't just because she was older; the fact that Denji had killed Makima didn't change anything in terms of the fear one can feel of control.

What affects Nayuta's power, capable of controlling only 3 people at a time, is the way she conceives herself.

Makima was so powerful because she occupied a fairly high hierarchical position among public hunters, just as she had unquestionable authority over her agents. What's more, the government assigned her an objective of a universal nature: to protect all mankind from evil things. This role of universal protector, albeit a protective one, naturally places Makima, the control demon, in the role of guardian, humanity being as harmless as obedient puppies. The only thing Makima couldn't feel superior to was Chainsaw Man, for he is the entity that provides the means to pursue her universal goal of protection.

The key to Nayuta's fate is the fact that she has been loved and pampered by Denji. She makes it clear: it's natural for a demon to kill humans. Which, on the other hand, indicates that it's completely unnatural and almost unnatural for a demon to love and be loved by a human.

To have been loved, to have been happy, enabled the control demon to understand other ways of relating than pure domination, whereas Makima didn't understand human relationships, to the point of being moved by a hug, so unattainable for her.

Nayuta understands the nuances of relationships, just as she claims not to be the leader of powerful public officials but a mere child, which always places her in an inferior position to her enemies. That's why she's less powerful: to be in control, she needs to feel superior, which she can't easily do when she sees all these adults surrounding her so vehemently.

She focuses more on her social role as a child to be protected than as a demon attacking head-on. She still adheres to her role as a child, she's not obsessed with CSM because she can't reach him, he's now in her inner circle, she doesn't have a universal goal such as protecting the humanity like Fami suggested, she just wants to go to school.

In short, the control demon no longer wants to control, no longer needs to, or when she does, it's out of sheer necessity. The fact that she's weaker was Kishibe's objective when he gave custody of the demon to CSM, to make the control demon more human, more childlike, to avoid this exponential need for control. In short, the fact that the Control Demon's supreme objective is to be loved has contained its power, because its objectives have been achieved.

We can see how love is an unnatural thing, because it limits a demon who should be supreme through his solitude. For Nayuta's sake, to get out of her situation in chapter 154 would be to have a crisis of ego, and I think that symbolically it's not out of the question that if Nayuta abandons her role as a child, she'll grow up brutally. For a demon, appearance and age are simply a question of positioning in society. Makima had chosen to take on the appearance of a femme fatale to enable her to manipulate more effectively.

A soft voice, an attractive appearance to encourage us to lower our guard, the better to control coldly.

This is also why Barem is so dangerous to her: he's big-boned, aggressive and very tall, so he can be naturally frightening to a child. If Nayuta wants to control him and regain the upper hand, she mustn't see herself as a child with a gun pointed at her head. That even when assaulted, even when held at gunpoint, she's still in full control, that despite the chaos, she's still superior.

It's no coincidence that it's a gun that's pointed at her. Guns are fatal for humans, but for demons, especially the most powerful ones, they don't mean much. Nayuta doesn't need to be afraid of a gun, she needs to embrace her demon nature.

And she's on that track because protecting CSM, rather than being protected by him, means she can now play the role of a big sister.

What's more, she needs to get to know her own need for violence and cruelty. Chaos isn't what she likes, this chain of violence and combat isn't what she desires, because what she wants is cold, absolute control, where all she gets is unfailing obedience, people falling into line, not men with spears fighting each other in a primal manner.

She has been brought up by Denji, adopting his mannerisms and his way of speaking, but she also needs to distance herself from this fraternal figure in order to be herself.

All this leads me to say that the Knights of the Apocalypse, by moving away from what they are, are THE ONES who bring about the apocalypse, which is totally obvious, hence their name.

By loving something abnormal for the demon of control, by falling in love with his worst enemy for the demon of war, by wanting to save humanity to better eat what it produces for the demon of famine... show how they are all affected by humanity, to the point of putting aside their demonic nature.

Think of it as a kind of broken balance, which leads the eldest, the demon of death, to intervene. Why? For death represents absolute equilibrium; no one can escape it, it is an absolute rule from which it cannot be dislodged, it is an inevitable and firm end. Common to all species.

So she intervenes, to pull the ears of her little sisters Nostradamus' prophecy doesn't predict the apocalypse - in fact, it predicts that it will be triggered by the Knights of the Apocalypse, who have set out to protect mankind from the apocalypse. It may sound complicated when you put it like that, but the idea is to reinforce the idea of inevitability: protecting mankind from the apocalypse isn't a rebellion, something that can work; on the contrary, Fami's plan triggers it because she denies her nature. It's a losing game.

When I say that Nayuta needs to be a little more Makima again, it's not just for her own good, it's also for the good of humanity, and I find that ultra interesting: it's necessary for the antagonist we got rid of in part 1 to return, at least partially, in part 2.

But she mustn't go back to being that obsessive protector, she must simply resume its role as predator. Mankind needs predators: with the evolution of technology, it thought it could challenge its food chain, but paradoxically it needs to be bruised by demons to survive, since the balance of the world is at stake.

It's all the more symbolic that Barem and Fami use the wrong strategy: like Prometheus, they give fire to men via contracts with the fire demon, reinforcing the idea of evolution to escape its nature. It's even more symbolic that many weapons serve this project, such as Miri, the demon of the whip and the spear, hybrids linked to this civilisation.

It's absurd for the demon of control to argue that she's just a child. If she wants CSM to escape, she must also allow him to free himself from his role as big brother and protector. And the answer to this question was given by Fumiko, who didn't realise that dogs and Meowy weren't just animals. What she should despise is certainly not her own family.

Humanity is nothing more than pets, and this realisation is the key for Nayuta to become herself again.

#chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #csm 154 #denji #denji hayakawa #nayuta hayakawa #nayuta #makima #barem bridge #fami #yoru #kishibe #death devil #fire devil #my thoughts #I wrote this in class oooops

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luveline · 6 months

Note

Hi don’t know if you’re taking requests (if not please ignore!) just wondering how Halloween would look like in the KBD universe or even a masquerade ball for prince Steve and reader?

thank you for requesting angel ♡ kbd mom!reader, 2k

"I think we should paint her orange," Avery says.

Steve pushes the wand of his bubbles back into the container, coating it in solution. "What for, honey?"

"For Halloween! We'll paint her orange and she can be a pumpkin."

"Oh."

Steve purses his lips, blowing bubbles over the green grass of the garden. It's alive despite it being late October, mildly crisp underfoot. He can hear leaves crunching under Bethie's boots where she runs around toward the back gate.

Wren sees the bubbles and giggles wildly. Steve grins. "You like those, sweetheart?"

"What if we make her green like a witch?"

"Who, Ave?"

"Wren."

"Oh. Well, Wren can't use face paint yet, babe, she's too little," Steve explains, dipping the wand in solution again. "But they're very good ideas. Do you know what you want to be?"

Avery throws her hands out. She's getting older than he ever imagined her, but she's still so small at the end of the day with delicate little hands and facial expressions cute enough to make a grown man cry. Steve would know, he's cried a ton of times just looking at her.

"I already told you."

Steve pretends to remember to spare her feelings as he blows more bubbles. He knows you'll know, and so it's a white lie. Better for everyone. "I remember! You're gonna be awesome."

She smiles for the first time in ten whole minutes and sits down next to Steve. He offers her the bubbles and the wand, freeing his hands to give her a loving squeeze from either side. "Very good ideas," he repeats, patting her arm.

Bethie comes running with two cupped hands. Steve can picture her find before she shows him, and still he's horrified to see a slug in her palm. It's not big but neither is she, lavishing across the breadth of her hand.

Ew, Steve thinks. "Wow, Beth! What did you find?"

"There's snails, too!" she says excitedly, her eyes bright as her attention flickers between the slug and her dad. "They're sleeping, I think. They're stuck to the slide."

"Beth, listen to me really quickly?"

"Yeah, dad," she says, nodding.

"I like that you're being gentle with the slugs, you're being nice, but as soon as you put him down, don't touch your face, okay? In fact, when you put him down, we're gonna go inside and wash our hands."

Beth looks down at her slug in alarm. "What?"

"He's not dangerous!" Steve reassures her. "But he might have germs. Germs don't hurt our skin, but they can't go in your mouth, okay? Good girl."

"He can't hurt my skin?"

"No, bub. Some bugs can, but not the plain black slugs. How about next time you want to pick one up, you come and get me and we'll pick it up together?"

Steve doesn't want to kill her fearlessness in this sole area, not when she's usually timid around everything else, but he also doesn't want to kill her full stop. All these random bugs, Steve doesn't know what's what.

"Okay. I picked this one up because he's got a yellow stripe," she says. Beth speaks in full words and makes sense the majority of the time, but her delivery is clumsy, heavy in places. Steve can still remember her first word. He's a firm believer in taking your time (please. please, let her take her time).

"You're super brave," he praises.

"Mom says bugs are more 'fraid of us than we are of them."

"She's right. Think if something this much bigger than you picked you up one day, you'd want them to put you down gently, right?"

Determination fills her eyes. "Yes."

She starts to run off but then slows, holding her hand aloft in front of her.

Closer by, Avery blows bubbles near Wren's soft chair, the youngest baby giggling like a tinkling bell. You and Steve have emphasised to Avery that Wren isn't her responsibility. Look after her as you would your other sisters, but don't feel like being the biggest sister makes you in charge. Avery sort of listened, but now she's planning Halloween costumes in her head, Steve's worried she's putting too much on her little shoulders, as she tends to do.

"Come here, my big girl," he demands, opening his arms.

Avery grins and jumps into his lap. Steve groans playfully, happy to be trampled, and just glad she had the foresight to screw the cap on her bubbles before she pounced.

"Hello. So, do I need to go to the store for this costume?" he asks.

"Probably."

"Okay. Are you coming with me to choose?"

"Mom said we're all going after lunch."

Steve waves her arms back and forth. "I guess we better get ready, then."

Easier said than done. Steve marches the girls back inside to find you've already dressed Dove and sat her in her chair with her lunch in front of her. Feeding young kids is tough because you're always trying to rotate things to keep their tastes big, but you've given in today to an easy solution; everybody's having pizza subs and halved grapes. So long as they're fed, who minds?

"Give me the babies!" you say, jumping up from your seat to grab Wren, chair and all, "Hi. Something tells me it's time for a bottle."

"I'll get them dressed–"

"Go get yourself dressed. They can eat first." You kiss his cheek. "I put some stuff out for you already."

"I can do it," he insists.

"Take a break," you insist back, your tone gentle as velveteen.

His turn to kiss your cheek. "Do you know what Avery wants to be for her costume?" he asks in your ear.

"She wants to be Belle, she told us weeks ago." He remembers as soon as you say it. "But I don't think finding a costume for her is going to be very easy this close to Halloween."

Steve doesn't blame either of you for your busy October, but he hates himself watching Avery grow more and more disappointed with every store you drive to. There are no yellow princess dresses to be found, only store brand pinks. Bethie is ecstatic to choose one of those ones and Dove insists on a white fairy costume with sugar paper wings, but Avery's frown grows heartbreaking when it's clear there aren't any Belle dresses to buy.

"I'm sorry," you're saying, Wren strapped to your chest, Beth and Dove knee to knee in the shopping cart in front of you. "It's my fault, baby, I left it last minute."

"No, it's my fault," Steve says.

Avery glares for a while, standing in front of all the dresses. Steve bends down to speak with her. "I'm sorry, Ave. Don't be mad at mom, okay? It's not her fault even when she says it is, she was busy working and I forgot about costumes because I had all that stuff with Wren and the doctors and my glasses and–" He winces. "I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. So be mad at me if you want, I was supposed to remember, but I'll make it up to you, promise."

"I told you ages ago," she says morosely.

"I know. You did. I didn't think about them running out of costumes, Avery. Sometimes when you're a grown up you have so much stuff to think of you don't have room for all of it, but that's not fair, huh? Now you don't get the costume you wanted."

She sighs, but the thing about Avery is that if you understand her point, she runs out of anger, just like her mom. She wants to make up, burying her face in Steve's thigh for a hug.

"What am I going to be now?" she asks.

"How about Belle's blue dress, babe?" you suggest.

"They don't have any Belle costumes!"

"I know, but we can make one. That's what me and dad did growing up, right?" you ask.

"All my costumes were homemade," he seconds, "that was the fun part."

So Avery marches you guys to the normal dresses and together you look for something nice and long enough for her tall stature. It's in the middle of this searching when she gasps, jumping up to grab Steve by the elbows.

Delighted at being forgiven, he bends down at her whim. "What?" he asks excitedly.

"Wren can be a bumblebee, like me!"

"You remember that?" he asks.

"No, but you have the photo in the car. Do you still have the costume?"

It's Steve. Of course he kept the costume, he keeps everything, an attic stuffed to bursting with the offcuts of your lives. You giggle from the landing underneath him, the baby in one arm and a spooky drink made special by Dove in the other hand. "I wish you could drink more than milk."

"Don't poison her!" Steve says, covered in cobwebs and knees white with dust as he climbs down the rickety ladder back onto solid ground. You wolf whistle as he reaches up to close everything safely, and cheer when you see the bee costume in his hand.

"You're the best. Think we should let Avery put it on her?" you ask.

"Maybe. Think she can be gentle enough?"

Your little girl, so preoccupied with her sister's costume that she forgot about her own? Yes, Avery can be gentle enough. She sews Wren's small arms into the costume's sleeves like she's handling a girl made of glass, and she doesn't attempt to lift her, quick to say, "Dad, can you pick her up for me?"

Steve lifts her and Wren does her scrunch, legs pulled up high and face a little startled. She's just old enough to giggle, prompting Bethie to join in as she races across the living room rug, the skirts of her dress fluttering against the floor.

"She looks like a bee!" Dove says, following after, her fairy wings jittering with her movements.

"She is!" Avery says, buttoning Wren's last button.

Finally, after an exhausting afternoon (both of energy and your wallets), the four girls are dressed in their Halloween costumes. Avery as Belle in her original blue dress and white apron, not the costume she wanted but clearly her favourite character nonetheless. Bethie wears her pink princess dress and one of Avery's big plastic tiaras, her hair done as you would style your own for date night. Dove twirls in her white fairy dress, silver corset ribbons shiny in the light. Wren gurgles in his arms, her soft wings folded between her and Steve's chest. And you, uncostumed, stand beautiful and tired in the doorway, sparkly eyeshadow in a stripe up your cheek.

The girls smile at him and their eyes glimmer.

"Wow," he says, leaning back against the couch. "You guys look amazing."

"It's about an hour until we're gonna leave," you say, "so please do mommy a favour and watch some TV, okay?"

You set them up in a line with a bowl of chips each —you can vacuum them clean. Steve cleans as quickly as he can while you wipe your face and put aside some stuff for tonight in case the girls come home hungry, and eventually, eventually, you and Steve make your way to the kitchen table for a quiet minute together.

"Wren's–"

"In her bassinet," Steve says. "You're–"

"Fine." You reach for his hand. "And you're–"

"Perfect." He rubs the back of your fingers with his thumb. "I've missed you today. I know we were together, but…"

You slouch into the table, resting your cheek on a placemat and closing your eyes. "Me too, sweetheart."

He shuffles closer and leans in. "Tired, huh?" he asks gently, pressing similarly soft kisses to your cheek. "Love you," he says. "Don't fall asleep."

"I'm not. Just resting my eyes."

He doesn't rub your back, worried it'll send you to sleep. Instead, he kisses all over your face, sloe at first and faster when he realises it'll take a while to cover every inch. You smile and let him do as he pleases, laughing under your breath as he kisses your eyelid, squirming when he pecks under your nose. "Freak," you mumble.

"That's what I'm being for Halloween."

"What am I gonna be?" you ask.

"Same as every year, I thought. Most beautiful girl this side of the Mississippi river."

You like the sound of it, pulling your joined hands to your face to nuzzle his knuckles.

"Or you can be Frankentstein," he suggests. "I'll be the monster."

"We can just be the two tiredest parents ever."

"That's not super creative, babe, we kinda do that every day."

"So I'm not beautiful every day," you say quickly, having set him up. "Knew it."

"You tricked me."

"Did not. Make it up to me?"

"What do you want?" he asks.

"Just a hug, Stevie." You raise your head to smile at him sleepily. "A really nice hug, please."

He saves the line about every hug being nice when it's with you and cuddles you, stroking your back for countless minutes, murmuring nothings to you until baby Wren shriek-cries from the living room. Steve soothes her upset, and you start the impossible task of getting everyone in their shoes for a night of trick-or-treating.

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billiethepumpkin · 23 days

Text

An Expanded Family: How They'd Be as Step-Parents

Warnings: Rated R. This content is intended for readers ages 18 years or older. If you are a minor, do not interact.

Contains: GN!Reader. Multiple family situations. Deceased parents. Coparenting. Absent parent. Blended families. Adoption of a younger sibling. Step-parent behavior.

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya. Ochaco Uraraka. Tenya Iida. Momo Yaoyorozu. Shoto Todoroki. Mirio Togata. Hitoshi Shinsou.

Author's Note: All characters are written to be adults because I am an old fuck :)

Izuku Midoriya

It had been the first thing he learned about you. You were a parent. Parenthood was deeply engrained in the way you operated, especially in the Pro Hero space.

When you started dating, though, it became so much more complicated than that.

He started overthinking immediately.

Deku was a lot of things. A lot of little kids looked up to him. He met people every day, but the pressure of meeting your little one was extremely high.

Sometimes you'd catch him mumbling to himself, practicing how to talk to a little kid. He knew that screwing this up might mean losing you forever.

But there is literally no possible way that he could screw it up. In any universe.

He decided to go with you and your four year old son to a playground. He put together a picnic and everything.

Izuku was perfect.

You were sure you fell in love with him all over again, watching him on the playground with your baby.

He was a little awkward at first, but as soon as your son asked him to play tag, Midoriya was all over it.

Your baby had him climbing up slides, going down fireman's poles, swinging on swings, the works.

And you couldn't tell who was having more fun: Izuku or your son.

Sometimes, Deku would come over and babysit for you while you had to run off to work or to run an errand.

Izuku always just treated them like playdates or sleepovers, though.

He asks your son's permission for everything first. Especially when he's about to take big steps in the relationship, like moving in.

But when Deku asked your son if he could move in with you guys, your son got all wide eyed and excited.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, smiling wide. "It'll be like a big sleepover!"

Midoriya knew your son had another parent, whether they were involved or not. He wasn't really trying to take over the father role.

It just fit him so well.

Soon, he found himself making pancakes and packing lunches and planning birthday parties.

Midoriya loved the life he had with you and your son. He loved it much more than he had anticipated.

And when you saw how much he loved your son, and how much your son loved him, it sealed the deal for you, too.

Ochaco Uraraka

Ochaco was surprised to find out you had kids. You were always so put together.

Not that parents can't be put together, she supposed, but you just didn't really seem like the parent type when she met you.

But whenever she came over while your twin daughters were there, she immediately saw a different side of you.

It made her fall that much more in love with you.

The first time you asked her to babysit, you were on your way to the hospital to see your sister have her own baby. Their other parent was never really in the picture, and everyone else that you would normally ask to watch the babies was also going to the hospital.

Uraraka volunteered almost immediately.

She had been with the twins and you enough times that she thought she had the hang of it.

However, they were only three years old, and whenever it came time to feed them, Ochaco realized she knew so little about children.

Nothing she offered seemed to satisfy them. It took her a while to figure out what they wanted, with their picky palates.

But she did it, eventually.

She knew the routine. Dinner. Bath time. Show on the couch. Then bedtime in the room they shared.

That night, you came home to find your two girls asleep with their heads on Ochaco's lap, her head leaned back on the couch as she dozed, too.

You merely giggled and brought your two girls to their own beds, then brought Ochaco into bed with you.

After that, it took her a while to feel comfortable watching the girls without you.

But she was very good at following your parenting style whenever it was the two of you!

And, man they loved her.

Any chance they got, they dragged Ochaco into the floor to play with them.

Coloring books, ball games, dress up, anything they could convince her to do.

With your permission, she had even floated them a couple of times.

And it warmed your heart when you heard one of them ask her, "Ochaco, will you be my Mama?"

Tenya Iida

You only got your baby every other week.

Your son was still a newborn, and his other parent was still very much a part of his life.

You wanted to make as much of the time you had with him as possible. So originally, Iida wouldn't come over during the weeks that you had him.

However, all of that changed when his dad wanted to switch weeks for a family event that you'd had going on.

You'd been so absent minded about it that you had forgotten to tell Iida.

Tenya had offered to just go back home and to reschedule his visit for the following week. But you thought that was as good a time as any for him to meet your son.

Iida met your baby while he was sleeping.

He was quiet and attentive, taking in the entire nursery. He didn't think you had shown him that part of your house before.

And even though he loved you and your son, it took a long time for him to really feel like he was part of your family.

I mean, you were seemingly still really close with the baby's other parent. He was never going to be able to step inside the bubble of your family.

Especially because Iida never really did the whole "step-father" thing.

At least, not in the way that anybody else usually did it.

He was more clinical, more calculating, the way he was with everything.

He didn't give the baby any baths or diaper changes for the first six months that you knew him, at least. He felt like it was inappropriate for him, as someone who isn't even related to the baby, to be doing those things for him.

He would do almost everything else, though. Feeding, playing, walks, different learning exercises, cleaning, more feeding.

You knew that everything he ever said or did was only because he cared about you and your baby.

However, he was always insecure about it. He never thought he'd be able to get your ex to trust him, and he never wanted to give either of you a reason not to.

Until you had a conversation with him about it.

You had a heart to heart about how it felt like you were doing a lot of things alone in your relationship and that you needed him to do a little more.

It was then that he told you how much he worried about things like diaper changes.

After you had a long talk about it, he revealed that he had no problem with those kinds of things. He just worried that it would affect the baby's development, to have a stranger around for intimate moments like diaper changes.

After that, he started to help more. He became stronger and stronger as a caregiver for your baby.

He would never be the baby's father. You both knew that. And Iida wasn't trying to be his father. All Tenya wanted was to love both of you for as long as he could.

Momo Yaoyorozu

You had a ten year old daughter when you and Momo started dating.

In fact, Momo met your daughter almost right away. She didn't have much of a choice because you had a really hard time finding childcare for her while you were away.

Your ex wasn't in the picture and didn't want to be. You didn't want them to be either. And your family didn't exactly raise kids the way you wanted your daughter to be raised. So it was just you and your daughter for the last ten years.

Until Momo came along.

She started out as just a really good friend.

Plus, now your daughter had someone else to look up to in her real life. Momo was smart and powerful, and you wanted your baby to have a woman in her life to look up to. Momo was perfect.

And then it became so much more than that.

Soon, Momo was over every single day. She picked up your daughter from school when you couldn't. She helped with homework and studying. She made dinner and taught your daughter everything she could about math and science and chemistry and hero work, everything she could get out of her system

And your daughter really didn't know how to feel about Momo because she just came on so strong all the time.

I mean, your daughter did like Momo.

It was just hard for her not to have some big feelings. She only had one real parent, and she didn't like any of her other family because of how mean they were all the time.

And Momo went from her parent's friend that sometimes tutored her to the person that sometimes steals her only parent.

And sure, it was cool to have a superhero as a stepmom.

But really your daughter missed the days when it was just the two of you.

When you noticed, you were heartbroken. You apologized over and over, and you promised your daughter that you could plan more days for just the two of you.

Momo was fully supportive of you having more alone time with your daughter. She knew it was important for your daughter to have that bonding time.

Momo just wasn't really sure how to react at the news that your daughter wanted her around less. She hadn't really considered how much she cared for you and your family until then.

Somehow, even though Momo knew how important it was for your daughter to have you as a support system, she still felt rejected and sad. She didn't want to leave you alone.

Momo pulled away for a while. Not because she was angry or anything, but because she didn't know how much space she was supposed to give you to be with your daughter.

Eventually, your daughter did start asking about her again.

"When is Momo coming back over?" she asked one time on the way home from school. "I miss her."

It took a long time, but you eventually learned to balance your time with Momo and your time with your daughter.

Shoto Todoroki

You took in your younger brother when your parents passed away.

You were happy to do so. The two of you had always been close, and you were happy to be the one who takes care of him.

But he was a bitter, emotional thirteen year old boy whose parents had just passed away. And there was nothing you could do to ease his pain.

You did everything you could think of. You started both of you in therapy. You spent quality time together. You made his favorite meals. You invited his friends over. But nothing consoled him.

He was mean and angry. He was sad and anxious. He insisted on being alone the majority of the time.

And you spent so much time trying to help him heal that you ended up isolating yourself.

That was when you met Shoto. He was a good shoulder to lean on. He was never judgmental of you or your situation. He always listened and never spoke until the time was right.

Todoroki also put you first, the way that you were never able to. And you fell in love with him months after your brother moved in with you.

You were extremely careful of the way you presented your relationship to Shoto to your brother. You thought it would be too quick of a change for him so soon after the last one.

Your worry actually led to you keeping it a secret for a little over a month.

It wasn't on purpose. You always meant to tell your brother that you had a boyfriend. But at first he just wasn't responsive to anything you said.

But then he met Shoto on accident.

Shoto went into your apartment to grab something you needed for work. It was only meant to be a quick trip to the apartment, and your brother wasn't meant to be there.

But he was. Your brother had skipped school. Apparently it's something he'd been doing for a while. He would just walk home after you left for work.

Shoto found him, and they struck up a deal. Todoroki would teach him some skills in combat and he would avoid telling you about the skipping class if your brother would stop skipping school altogether.

Suddenly, Todoroki became best friends with your younger brother.

Your brother became more social, more active. He started talking to you again. He started getting better grades in school. He started joining you for family dinners.

And when you were finally able to tell your brother about the nature of your relationship with Shoto, it turned out that he already knew.

Apparently, he overheard you on the phone with Todoroki one night.

Todoroki became increasingly protective over your brother.

He took your brother to nightly training sessions to help him work off his emotions.

Your brother even convinced Shoto to try going to therapy himself, something he had considered but never actually went through with.

After that day, they started becoming closer. Almost brotherly, almost the relationship you knew Shoto was missing from his siblings.

You knew they both needed each other.

And Todoroki was so spoiling for the both of you. He took you both on trips. He bought you gifts for holidays. He took you to dinner and to his Pro Hero parties and banquets.

Every once in a while, he would work late, and he would refuse to come back to your place because he didn't want to wake up your brother.

And one day, when Todoroki had been at his own apartment for several nights after being on late night patrols, you heard your brother ask you from the other room, "When is Shoto coming home?"

And ever since then, the three of you became a happy family.

Mirio Togata

You and your daughter met Mirio in the park.

Your daughter had been just six years old. Her other parent had passed away when she was an infant.

Your parents lived far away, and your partner's parents couldn't bear to look at your daughter now that they'd had to bury their own child. And you couldn't really blame them because of how much she looked like her other parent.

It was just the two of you, you and your baby.

Mirio had brought is own daughter, one from a previous marriage.

Their divorce had been amicable, though his ex-wife had since made some poor life choices and was no longer able to visit or take his daughter on the weekends. So they spent their days visiting parks and playgrounds.

You met because your daughter had taken quite a fall off of the swings and scraped up her hands, and Mirio's daughter had helped her up. Mirio, then, helped her find you so you could bring her home.

You were thankful, and you took your daughter home after a brief exchange of niceties.

From then on, you always noticed him at the playgrounds you frequented. Your daughter became very good friends with his, and you found it in your best interest to become friends with Mirio.

The rest is history.

You found out that your daughters would be going to the same elementary school. And from then on, they did everything together.

Meaning that you and Mirio now did everything together, too.

Mirio was particularly doting on your daughter.

He would play with her whenever she asked, no matter how silly the game was.

He would give her piggyback rides into school.

He would nurture her whenever she needed loving.

But he also never neglected his own daughter. He made sure they still went out on their father-daughter dates to cafes and parks and playgrounds.

Watching him love the kids so much created a longing in your heart that was so strong you couldn't deny that you had feelings for him.

Eventually, things spiraled until the two of you were much, much more than friends.

You hadn't exactly explained anything to your daughters yet, but during a play date, they walked in on the two of you kissing.

It was innocent enough. Nothing got remotely steamy. But it was just an innocent moment.

You both startled when you heard "OoooooOOOOoooh!" from the two tiny voices peaking around the corner.

You all started laughing, and your daughters came bounding in the room. "You loooooove Mirio!" your daughter teased.

"Yeah, I guess I do!" you said with a smile, looking at him lovingly.

Mirio was just as doting and loving on your girls as he had been the entire time.

A couple of months into your relationship, you discovered that you were pregnant. And then a few months later, you welcomed a new baby boy into the family.

At first, your girls were so loving and doting on their brother. They "helped" feed him, change him, and bathe him, which really meant just talking to him and giving him lots of kisses.

But you could tell that something with your own baby girl had gone awry.

She would cling to you all hours of the day. She always wanted to be cuddling you, right by your side every minute of the day.

Eventually, she let it slip that she thought you and Mirio loved the new baby most.

You decided that you had to do something. Your baby had to know that you loved her just as much as the rest of the family.

So you set up a special time after the baby was laid down for bed at night where you all did something together.

Sometimes you'd watch a show and cuddle under blankets on the couch. Sometimes you'd play board games together. And sometimes you would take turns reading parts of books.

You each took your girls out on solo adventures whenever you could, making sure to spend time with them just as you did one another.

You did your best to make sure that your family unit all felt loved the way they deserved.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Shinsou actually met your eight year old son first.

You had been holiday shopping on one of the busiest nights of the year.

You knew you shouldn't have brought him with you. You knew you should've just waited until your parents could watch him.

But now, here you were, frantically running around the shopping center, waiting for your eyes to lock with his.

You couldn't help but shame yourself while you searched for him.

First, you got pregnant in high school. You knew you weren't mature enough to have a child, and all of this proved it. You were still a child yourself. You had no business raising a kid all on your own.

And then you saw it.

You saw your son being led through the crowd with a man with purple hair, and you finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Fast forward to a year and a half later, and you and that man were moving into the same apartment.

Shinsou had proven to be an amazing parent, even if he really hadn't seen himself as a parent before.

He knew he wasn't really the "step-dad" type, and he never pretended to be.

He just wanted to care for you and your son as much as possible.

Hitoshi really struggled at first.

Sometimes, when he was over, he just couldn't understand why he could wake you up in the night with some love and affection.

Eventually, you explained that your son's face was peacefully sleeping on the other side of the wall between your bedrooms. "What the hell would you do if he walked in, 'Toshi?" you had eventually asked.

The look on his face seemed like he'd seen a ghost when you asked.

It took him a long time to get used to the schedule, too.

You and your kid got up so freaking early.

And yeah, he knew it was for school. But that didn't mean he wasn't grumpy about the alarm buzzing on your bedside table at six every morning.

One morning, though, he had been awake when your son had woken up from a nightmare.

You would have been happy to wake up and be there for your son. But Hitoshi also knew this was his chance to really bond with him in a way he hadn't been able to. So he got up and led your son into the kitchen.

Hitoshi took the time to heat up some milk with honey and cinnamon mixed in, just like in that movie he had watched with you and your son recently... Oh, what was it called?... He couldn't remember.

They talked about the dream. Shinsou told your son all the ways that he remembered to be brave when he was afraid.

And ever since then, your son went to Shinsou for everything. It was like he was obsessed with your boyfriend.

Ever since then, they were best friends, always getting into one thing or another together.

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contentloadingandstuff · 8 months

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Perfect Match - Yae Miko & Lynette x Male!Hybrid!Reader

A/N: This is the start of a new fluff series, which will feature all the animal/yokai/adepti/hybrid girls and a reader of the same species - Kokomi included. If Fem!Readers will be interested, I might do a bit for the hybrid men. Enjoy! CW: Male!Reader, reader is the same species as the character, mentions of kids, might contain lore inaccuracies.

Having someone who can understand her and relate to her way of being is such an immense joy for Miko. Kitsune are nowhere near as numerous as they were back in the day, so having a handsome, charming and attractive one as her husband is a true blessing.

As a fellow fox envoy, you have more than the necessary knowledge on fur care, so she'll gladly use your skills. Gentle brushes through her tails not only help keep them in pristine condition, but also feel wonderful. Nothing compares to your ear massages, however. When she lies in your arms and your hands scratch at them lightly, she just melts away, quietly mumbling about her day.

If Miko feels more cuddly than usual, she will have no problem with asking you for some fox cuddles. Fox bodies are a great deal better for cuddles, with the fluffy fur and flexible, small bodies. There's no better thing than curling up on the beanbag in your bedroom on cold days. It adjusts so perfectly to your little, furry bodies, and retains warmth very well. If she's in the mood for scritches, you will be able to tell as she always lies down on the couch, belly up and ready for affection.

Since you molt too, the ever-present hair is not as much of an annoyance for you. It also helps in diffusing the responsibility for stray hairs in food. Both of you have pink fur, so how will you prove it’s hers?

Not transforming into her other form recklessly granted her one big advantage - anonymity. Even if she is a fox of rather refined taste, who said that simple and silly pleasures don't interest her? The rumors of two small foxes zooming around and playing in the woods under the cover of night always bring a smile to her face. Her mind still can't understand just why and how sprinting around and tackling each other is so fun. And when you’ve had enough fun, you can either go back home or find one of your well-furnished hiding spots and spend the night there, curled into each other without a care in the world.

Affection towards you comes naturally to her, obviously, but your Kitsune blood pokes at the more foxy part of her mind. When you’re alone, no matter the form, Miko has a tendency to nibble on you. It can be your shoulder, your lip, ear or finger. Her teeth are very sharp, true, but her gentleness removes any risk of harm to you. Just this simple and natural (for Kitsune) act tends to get some nice reactions out of you with how openly she admits it. The small, barely visible teeth marks look so good on your skin, so why should she hold herself back?

When the exhaustion from your secret zoomies kicks in, Miko will gladly have you climb up on the roof of your residence and stargaze. A single blanket and your hand in hers improves on the experience, changing it from grim and lonely to comforting and familiar. Four hundred years is a lot of time, but one day, both of you will roam the skies as Kitsune Ascendants, together, for as long as the universe itself exists. Miko never stops the dreamy sigh from escaping her lips while considering the future you two have before you. Perhaps, with enough time, you will even become genuine fox deities.

For now, however, using life for all it's worth seems like a sound plan. Whenever a particular gust of boredom hits you, Miko will coax you into participating in her schemes. Her favorite type of activity is creating problems in the shrine - especially those of the "What would happen if Lady Guuji saw this?!" variety. As the shrine maidens would struggle to solve the conundrum, you and Miko would wait in your fox forms, hidden in some dark nook of the shrine, listening and waiting for the right moment. When it eventually comes, you would emerge from the hiding spot and turn back into human forms behind a corner, and approach the maiden seemingly out of nowhere. The looks of terror on their faces are sure to stick in her mind for weeks, if not months to come.

Of course, turning into inanimate objects is also a possibility, but is a lot more risky. Since there's no mobility to be had, an escape in case of someone trying to use the item for its intended purpose, oblivious to the fact that it's actually you and Miko playing a prank would require a shift back to human form, which in turn would reveal Miko's fairly childish sense of humor. The only people she can fool recklessly are the maids, but they've learned by now that, in a Kitsune's home, nothing is as it seems. Pranking you is out of the question since you can easily pick up her scent, though it doesn't mean that she won't try to mask it with perfume or cook distractingly delicious food. Beware!

Occasionally, when you wrap your tails around each other and love for the other fills you to the absolute limit, you might just experience shared dreams. Your adventures are very varied in activities and locations, but all have just one thing in common - you.

Having and raising kids, especially as many as you were gifted with, is an enormous task, but as most things in life, does not go without its benefits. They are cute, amusingly chaotic and so lovely. They way they stalk finches and other birds, their irises expanding before pouncing and failing to catch it never fails to make her chuckle. Their play fights look concerning, but Miko knows better than to break them up. A few bruises and scratches never killed anyone. No matter what they do or what form they take, they are always eight balls of pure, chaotic Kitsune energy.

Even if their stamina for spreading entropy is baffling, it's not infinite. They will drag themselves home eventually, dirty, exhausted, but absolutely happy - as children in that state usually are. After a big meal and a thorough bath, the kids will turn into their animal forms and snuggle up to you and Miko, thus forming a big pile of fur, ears, tails and snouts. It's extremely cozy, warm and relaxing, but the sheer amount of Kitsune makes it hard to crawl out of it in the morning. That said, getting a bigger beanbag is a good idea - who said those eight are the last kids Miko wants?

It’s such a refreshment, to have someone who perfectly fits her needs. The chemistry between the two of you is natural, as in a world of noisy humans, feline blood guarantees at least a little quiet.

Sure, she loves her brothers, but even they tend to be louder than she can take. Moving to your house was a notable step up in Lynette’s overall living comfort. Your movements, as silent and graceful as hers, never disturb her sleep nor catch her attention. Although for a child of The House that would be concerning, she never once caught you lying or acting even slightly suspicious.

Speaking of silence, most onlookers would never guess that you’re a couple if they were to examine your average day. Very few words are exchanged between you - your tails and ears, as well as subtle facial expressions, can signal almost everything. The right gaze into your eyes can get her exactly where she wants to be - be that an outing to a cafe, a cuddle session or an intimate moment - without the need to utter a single word. Frequently, your house is filled with nothing but the silent ticking of the clock.

Having never experienced real intimacy, Lynette longs for your touch. She likes her cuddles tight and warm. There is no need for a fireplace to comfort her when she can snuggle into your arms and rest on your chest. The heat radiating from you is addictive, just as the rhythmic beating of your heart and gentle breathing are. Your touch is precise and skilled, scratching and caressing just the right spots to make her drowsy just after a few moments. What’s even more wonderful is the simple fact that you are nocturnal as well, meaning that you will never judge or get upset over her sleeping most of the day. Napping is her favorite activity, and should you join her, feels like heaven.

Night is when you truly feel at home. The delightful stillness of the capital encourages exploration of the streets, now free of the crowds and bothersome noise. For somebody as agile as you two, scaling the outer walls is no problem, so the highest tier tends to be your hangout spot. Thanks to the wonders of portable kettles, it’s quite easy to have tea in the moonlight with Lynette, along with delectable biscuits. The nightly chill helps cool down the beverage, and in your excellent company, time flies by at breakneck speed. Before long, the sun rises again, and the Court Of Fontaine awakes. It’s not as much of a problem as it is an annoyance.

Being in a similar body to her means you face the same problems as she does, as well as share a few preferences. Your lifelong enjoyment of fish dishes means your skill in cooking them is up to par. Even despite being able to cook various exquisite and complex meals, such as the renowned Squirrel Fish, Lynette tends to ask for mostly simple salmon sushi. The strong taste of the raw fish coupled with the gentle base of rice tickles her taste buds in all the right ways.

When it comes to ear and tail hygiene, she prefers to do it herself, but the care you provide on demand is undeniably pleasant. Lynette would much rather groom yours, without much real thought behind the reason as to why. Perhaps interacting with your unique features eases the feeling of standing out from the crowd?

Sometimes, instead of a standard kiss, she might bump your cheek or touch your nose with hers. It's a silly little gesture, one that she will do her best to keep under wraps. One morning, however, somnolent Lynette did just that while greeting you in her family home. Luck had it that Freminet was the only witness… What would be if Lyney saw it? She wouldn't hear the end of it for at least a week, that's certain.

Lynette is no stranger to catnip. Her sense of smell is as developed as that of a cat, and the plant still activates her hormones all the same. The magician used it only on a handful of occasions, scared of both clouding her mind and her brothers finding out. Now that she lives with you, the threat of the latter is no more, and she can enjoy her narcotic with you in privacy. Though the sober Lynette is reserved, the high Lynette is an absolute cuddlebug with her purring matching the dishwasher in volume. The sleep afterwards remains one of the best things in life in her opinion.

Just use it in moderation. Addiction to catnip is a real problem amongst the feline population, and she doesn't want either of you going down that path.

Thanks for reading!

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roosterforme · 5 months

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Adult Education Part 11 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica finally tells someone what happened with Brian, and maybe Jake would be just as understanding if she told him. With the fraternity fundraiser a few days away, her nerves start getting the best of her, but Jake continues to show how effortlessly he can make her happy.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, frat boys 18+

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica felt so much better and yet emotionally drained at the same time. She spent almost thirty minutes telling her friend what happened with Brian, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that the other woman wasn't judgmental in the least. When Jessica was finally done talking, she sank back in her chair and fixed her glasses.

"So, yeah... that's why he's holding a grudge. That's why he won't give me tenure even though I deserve it."

She was met with a stony expression. "Just say the word, and Conley is going down. Have you... mentioned this to Jake?"

"No," Jessica replied immediately, her skin itching at the thought. "No."

"You should," she replied slowly. "I think he'd be surprisingly attentive, and I say that a bit begrudgingly."

Jessica cracked a smile as she grabbed her empty tupperware container and stood. "I'll think about it, Dr. Tits." She left the office to the sound of genuine laughter, but by the time she got back to her office, she felt exhausted. It wasn't fair that Brian had taken up so much space in her brain for so long. When Jake texted her and let her know he couldn't make it to her office hours, she felt almost relieved.

The fraternity fundraiser was this Saturday, and she'd planned everything out as much as she could. Everything was checked off her list, and she was going to meet with the Kappa Pi students at their house on Wednesday evening. The only thing she hadn't done was log into the university portal and see how many tickets had sold for the event.

Alumni weekend was a huge deal, and it was well attended and advertised, but she was still dreading checking. So she finished all of her classes for the afternoon and then ducked into the lounge to make herself a cup of coffee before her office hours started.

She looked up as someone else entered, and it was Brian's teaching assistant. The one he was almost definitely sleeping with. "Hi," she said cautiously.

Jessica just nodded at her. She wanted to warn this poor girl, but it was obvious that Brian had her in a similar position to which Jessica had been in last school year. Plus, she already knew he'd make sure both women paid the price if she did.

It was with tears in her eyes that Jessica returned to her office. That hopeful feeling from lunch was gone now, and she really wished Jake was able to stop by today after all. She plopped down at her desk and decided to just log in and see how poorly her ticket sales had gone.

"Holy shit," she muttered, nearly spilling her coffee. Over one hundred tickets had sold, and the event was still days away. "Oh my god." Tears welled up in her eyes as she did the math quickly in her head. Her event would make over five thousand dollars for the school. Hopefully the fraternity house would be able to hold that capacity.

When her phone vibrated on her desk, she was startled from her thoughts.

Jake Seresin: I miss you too much. I can't stay long, but I'll be there in ten.

She didn't even bother to respond, but she was waiting by the open door for him when he rushed down the hallway. "Jake," she said with a soft laugh as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. He was still wearing his flight suit, and he was a little out of breath.

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips, and that made her a little bit out of breath as well. One big hand slid down to her butt as he said, "We had late training days sprung on us for today and tomorrow, and I volunteered to pick up dinner. I talked them into the Thai restaurant down the block from here." Then he froze as Jessica ran her fingers along his patches. "Were you crying? It looks like you were crying."

She shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, but it's not bad." She smiled more as Jake kissed along her cheeks. "A ton of tickets sold for my event on Saturday."

"How many?" he asked, looking at her with pride.

"Over one hundred."

"Damn, you're good, Baby."

Jessica was looking up at his handsome features and his sexy smirk while he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb lazily along her bottom lip. She kissed his thumb before licking him, and when his eyes went wide, she laughed. "You can't stay?"

He shook his head. "I'll come back on Thursday. We can go to Chippy's after your office hours?"

"Yeah," she replied, tracing his HANGMAN patch. She could already hear Luca's skateboard on the tiled hallway floor, so she needed to be quick. "Do you want to sleep over on Friday night at my place? We could head to the event from there on Saturday? I could... show you the lingerie in my closet?"

Jake groaned softly, and goosebumps rippled down her neck as he asked, "Will you let me pick out something pretty for you to wear?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed as she pressed her lips to his neck. "Anything you want."

"Yes," he gasped, and then you heard Luca whistle.

"Get it, Dr. Reed," he said as he kicked his skateboard up into his hand. "Want me to come back later?"

"No," Jessica said as she disentangled herself from Jake's wandering hands while she blushed. "He was just leaving," she said. Then she looked up at Jake's green eyes and wide pupils. "You were just leaving."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he kissed her lips softly and said, "Call me later tonight. I'll see you on Thursday."

She watched him rush back toward the elevator before she closed her door behind her. "How many times do I have to remind you not to skate in the hallways?"

"Sorry, Dr. Reed."

"Get out your notebook."

-----------------------

When Jessica heard a knock on her office door on Wednesday around dinnertime, she called out, "It's open." Really, she was on her way to the Kappa Pi house, and she hadn't left herself much time to deviate from her agenda. Hopefully whoever this was would make it quick, but then she smiled when she realized who it was. "Advanced Calculus. What's up?"

"Just wondering if you were looking for someone to tag along? I speak fluent 'frat boy', and Bradley is training late with Jake."

Jessica was shocked into silence for a beat. "Yeah. I would love that. I'm actually a little nervous about meeting them."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You've got boobs and a pretty face. They'll be eating out of your hand, literally doing whatever you want them to."

"I'm not so sure," she replied with apprehension. But when they walked across campus to the old Victorian fraternity house with KAPPA PI on the front of it and knocked, Jessica was pleasantly surprised.

A lanky guy with bad acne opened the door, and his eyes bugged out as he looked between the two women. "Dr. Reed?" he asked in awe.

"Yes, that's me," Jessica replied, reaching out to shake his head before introducing him to the other professor. When he made no move to do anything except stare at them, she asked, "Can we come in?"

"Y-Yes. I'm James by the way."

Jessica led the way inside, and she was pleasantly surprised again. The front foyer opened up to a rather cavernous living room and dining room. There were beautiful hardwood floors and rich paint colors and a fireplace. The house was clean, and she was sure the kegs and tables would fit inside without issue once the furniture was moved out onto the back lawn.

"Your house is so clean! Where are your fraternity brothers?" the other woman asked, and James blushed bright pink.

A few minutes later, there was a lineup of a dozen or so guys staring at the two women. Their expressions ranged from surprise to bewilderment, but there were two on the end who looked like they just won the lottery.

"Okay, hi. I'm Dr. Reed from the physics department, and I actually recognize a few of you. Calvin?" she asked, smiling at one of them. "From last semester?" He waved awkwardly back at her. "Right, well, I'm your advisor for the alumni event this weekend. I have a list of things you need to do before Saturday at six o'clock." She started passing out copies to each of them as she read off the list. "Move the furniture. Clean the kitchen. Fill the keg barrels with ice. And so on. Any questions?"

Five hands shot up, and Jessica stepped back in surprise. "Here it comes," Advanced Calculus muttered as Jessica pointed to the smirking guy at the end.

He nodded at Jessica and asked, "If I switch my major to physics, will you be teaching all the classes?"

"Um, no," she answered, shaking her head in confusion. Then she pointed at the one next to him who had his hand raised.

"Do either of you need a date for Saturday night?" he asked eagerly.

Jessica snorted and covered her mouth with her hand. She was about to answer when her friend said, "Both of our dates are in the military. And they're jacked. And they're mean."

A chorus of boos and groans filled the space, and Jessica had to try her best to answer the relevant questions without laughing. She showed the boys where to move the furniture, and she inspected the kitchen. Then she checked to see if there was enough room for the string quartet next to the stairs. She was determined to deliver on the elevated frat boy aesthetic since so many people seemed excited about it.

"I think we're done for the day," Jessica told the guys with a smile as they fought over who got to escort the two of them back to the front door. "My email address is at the bottom of the list if you need to contact me for anything." A bunch of hands shot up in the air, and she added, "Anything pertaining to the event. If you try to ask me out again, I'm just going to delete the emails."

The guys lowered their hands and mumbled goodbye as the women stepped back out onto the silent porch. "Jessica, all those boys are going to sign up for your lectures next semester. I guarantee it."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "No, they won't. If anything they'd sign up for yours!"

But she was laughing as she walked down the steps to the sidewalk, and Jessica followed behind her in her high heels. "Just wait until Jake sees the twenty one year old kids with acne trying to flirt with you. He'll get jealous and pouty, I can practically see it now."

Jessica scoffed. "No, he won't! And didn't you meet Bradley when he was twenty one years old and in a frat?"

She froze on the sidewalk as that familiar blue Bronco parked on the next block up. "I sure did. And prepare yourself. Bradley is going to be insufferable on Saturday night."

-----------------------

Jake could only really focus on Jessica. After that brief couple of minutes in her office before Luca arrived on Tuesday, he was sweating it out until he could get home and jerk off. He came all over his hands in the shower as he thought about coating up her glasses instead.

Now it was Thursday morning, and he leaned against the shower wall and thought about what kind of lingerie she might have in her closet. He hoped there was a little bit of everything. He could imagine her in something soft and white, almost ethereal. He could just as easily picture her in some leather with a riding crop. His groan filled the glass shower enclosure as he wrapped his hand around his cock again.

He realized by the time he finally started getting dressed that he was going to be late if he didn't seriously get a move on. He was just buttoning his uniform shirt when his phone lit up on his bed. Jessica had sent him an image. His fingers abandoned the buttons so quickly to grasp for his phone. And holy shit, his hot girlfriend sent him a picture of a dark purple lace bra and thong laid out on what must have been her light blue bedding.

"Fuck," he grunted as he glared down at his cock. He really didn't have time to get hard again right now. But... he was curious, so he wrote back.

You wearing that today, Jess?

She didn't respond until Jake had parked his new truck on base, but this time, she sent an up close photo of the tops of her breasts hugged by purple lace. He was practically drooling as he ran for the locker room with his bag.

Keep 'em coming, Baby.

He decided to keep his phone on him. It would be worth getting reprimanded. She sent him a handful of filthy looking photos as the day progressed, but it still wasn't enough. She must have taken a bunch of them in the morning before she left for campus, and Jake was so thankful.

He had to adjust his uniform pants several times that evening when he walked from his truck to her office. On his way into the building, he passed a delighted looking Bradshaw and his wife on their way out. She was practically hanging off of him as they walked, and Jake heard her softly ask, "Okay fuckboy, you want me to get your Beta Gamma paddle out when we get home?"

Bradley froze and met Jake's eyes as his cheeks started turning pink. "Hangman," he grunted, and his wife spun to face Jake with a coy smile.

"Hi, Jake," she sang as she reached for her husband's hand. "See you on Saturday night."

It was hard to still feel jealous of what they had when Jake knew what was waiting for him a few floors up. He took off toward the elevators, and then he walked as quickly as he physically could to Jessica's office. Two taps on her door, and she was pulling it open for him. He did the briefest glance around the room to make sure she was alone before he closed the door and backed her up against it.

"Are you trying to send me to an early grave?" he whispered, his voice sounding a little harsh as he smiled softly at her. But his smile vanished immediately when he felt her hand run slowly across his thigh before she cupped his length through his khakis.

"I just thought I'd keep you entertained while you were at work." She gave him a little squeeze, and Jake bucked against her hand. He glanced down to see that her soft sweater was the same purple color as her underwear, and she had on a little black skirt and black heels. He kissed her forehead and then her nose as he grabbed her ass with one hand and pushed her hair back behind her ear with the other.

"You kept me hard while I was at work. That's what you did, Professor Reed." Jake wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed along her jaw softly. She gasped as he used his other hand to slowly bunch her skirt up until he could feel the round of her bare ass cheek in his hand.

"Jake," she whined, making it sound like three syllables instead of one as her hands slid up and around his neck. He kept his hand on her neck gentle and his kisses light as he grabbed her ass and slipped his fingers inside the back of her thong. "Jake!"

Her hands were grasping at his hair as he kissed her ear and rubbed his erection against her sweet body. "You're gorgeous. You drove me crazy all day. You know that? You did it on purpose?"

"Yes," she gasped as he sucked gently on her neck before soothing the spot with his tongue.

"Mmm," he hummed quietly as he panted. "You gonna let me see that pretty purple set?"

Her voice was an obscene whine that left him grinding against her harder as she moaned, "Yes!"

And he couldn't help himself as he pressed the softest kisses along her jaw and ear and asked, "You gonna let me fuck you hard on your desk?"

Jessica's eyes were wide, and her glasses had gone crooked on her face, but he kissed her lips after she said, "Yes." Her hand reached out to press the lock on her door, and then Jake carried her to her desk and set her on the edge. Her eyes already looked blissed out as she spread her thighs wide and hooked both of her feet around his calves, pulling him closer.

He tipped her chin up so she was looking at him, and then he took both of her soft thighs in his hands as she kept eye contact. "I'm crazy about you," he murmured as he pressed himself against her core. Then she pulled her sweater up and over her head before tossing it to the floor. Now her glasses were really crooked, and her hair was a mess as she reached for the fly of his pants. Jake was lost to the feel of her hand gripping his length as she pushed his pants down. Then she released him and leaned back on both of her palms with her lace covered tits thrust alluringly toward him.

"Fuck me," she commanded in her teaching voice. "Fuck me hard on my desk."

"Jesus Christ," he cursed, guiding his hands up her thighs, pushing the fabric up until that little skit was around her waist. When he tugged her damp thong to the side, he was treated to the sight of her wet pussy all ready to go. She ran her high heels up and down his thighs until he grabbed her behind the knees and thrust himself deep.

Jessica's jaw dropped open as Jake held her legs in his hands and fucked her hard, his thrusts relentless as she started to whine. He gritted his teeth, the obscene slapping sounds of his body meeting hers filling the room as he watched her pussy take him. Her tits were bouncing beautifully each time he filled her, and she just kept getting louder.

"Someone's gonna hear you," he warned, his voice a growl as he braced his feet a little wider apart on the floor. "Someone's gonna come knocking if you're not quieter, Jess."

She pressed her lips together and whimpered loudly in response as he continued to fuck her, rocking his hips into her body, his balls slapping her ass. Maybe he just didn't give a fuck if someone heard. Maybe Jake didn't care who knew that he was getting Jessica off on her desk right now. This was his girl, and she was a professional teaser. Even the way she was gripping him so tight with each stroke was too much. Her body was made for him, the way she responded to him like this.

"Jake," she keened, extending the syllables once more as he ran his hand down her calf and lifted her leg so he could kiss her ankle. The shift in position had her squeezing around him while she eased herself onto her back. Jake watched her lace covered tits bounce as her hands grappled for something to grab onto. She held the edge of her desk as she came undone for him. A few more sharp thrusts, and Jake pushed himself deep, filling her up with his cum. And once again, when he withdrew himself, he got to watch the mess he made drip down her ass only to collect on her thong before dripping to the desk.

When Jake looked up along her body, Jessica had herself propped up on her elbows with a serene smile and crooked glasses. He leaned down over her and kissed her. "I got a little carried away," he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair and squeezed her thigh.

She looked impossibly sweet as he fixed her glasses, and she said, "I plan on getting carried away with you tomorrow night when you sleepover."

He devoured her mouth, but the kisses turned lazy and unhurried. Eventually Jake helped her sit up again on the edge of her desk, and he took in the sight of her rucked up skirt, purple bra and his cum between her thighs. "Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll take you to Chippy's."

"Sex on my desk and Chippy's? Today just keeps getting better," she said with a laugh as Jake grabbed some tissues from her shelf and wiped up her desk and picked up her sweater. Once she was in his arms, he pulled her shirt over her head and helped her wiggle her skirt back down.

When he zipped up his pants, he told her, "Why don't you grab a journal or two to take with us? We can read it together over some Sam Adams and peanuts."

Jessica's eyes lit up, and she actually clapped her hands. It was the cutest fucking thing he had ever seen in his life, and he watched as she clicked across her floor on her heels to the shelf. "I love that," she murmured. "Great idea, Jake."

He loved it, too. He loved everything about her. She was so smart and beautiful, but she was funny, too. She wasn't clingy, and she had a fascinating career. She didn't need him around, but she seemed to light up when he was, and that's what left Jake a little breathless as she turned and looked at him with two journals in her hand. "You ready?"

Jake kissed the slight bruise he left on her neck on the ride down the elevator. When the doors opened, Brian Conley was there arguing with a young woman, and he felt Jessica tense up in his arms. "It's okay," Jake murmured against her hair. Even though her posture remained a little rigid, she let him take her by the hand and walk out into the lobby, and Jake absorbed the glare that Brian shot their way so Jessica didn't have to.

He'd had just about enough of that asshole, and the next time he witnessed Brian being a dick or if he heard his girlfriend complain about him again, Jake was probably going to lose it. But as soon as they were inside the dive bar, Jake noticed that her shoulders seemed less tense, and she smiled as soon as Chippy waved to her.

"Hey, Reedy."

"Hi, Chippy."

He started pouring two pints as he shot Jake the look of warning that he'd become accustomed to; it was almost a part of the experience now. But the bar was absolutely packed tonight, and Jessica held his hand a little tighter as she stepped around peanut shells on the sticky floor. There was only one high top table free with only one stool at it.

Jake kissed Jessica's cheek and nudged her in that direction. "Grab the table while I get the beer and peanuts?" She took off in that direction, and Jake headed for the bar.

"So. You're here to stay then?" a disgruntled Chippy asked as he shoved a bowl of peanuts next to the pint glasses.

Jake tried to reel in his surprised laugh. "Yes, sir. I'm not going anywhere."

Chippy grunted as he took the twenty dollar bill from Jake and made change for him. He slid the bills across the bar but kept his hand on them. "If I so much as see you with another woman or see tears in that girl's eyes," he said, nodding toward Jessica, "you'll never see the inside of this bar again."

Jake waited for him to pick up his hand, and then he took all of the bills except for a few singles. "Understood." Then he could tell he'd been dismissed when Chippy started waiting on the group next to him, so he took everything back to the table where Jessica was perched on the stool.

"Literally all of the seats are being used," she told him, but Jake set everything down and then pulled her into his arms.

"Just means I get to hold you, then." He sat and then helped her onto his lap, and she settled on his thigh while he kissed her cheek and the side of her neck. "This is perfect."

Her cheeks were a little flushed, and Jake could smell himself on her as he wrapped his arm around her, letting his hand settle on her hip. This gorgeous woman was wearing panties soaked with his cum and calmly opening one of the physics journals to share an article with him. "Oh, you'll like this one," she told him, smiling over her shoulder before pointing out the title on the page. She thought he was smart, and she seemed to like having him around outside of bedroom activities, too.

"I'm sure I will," he replied, kissing her shoulder as he listened to her tell him about jet propulsion in a newly designed aircraft.

------------------------

Intelligent, self aware Jake is ruining me a little bit. Brian is a dank ass little bitch. Please send asks if you'd like to see a certain type of lingerie in her closet. Frat fundraiser is up next. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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oreharuuu · 9 months

Text

A Glimpse of Mercy

Summary: The boy you once knew from your small town has changed. But has he really change from his past? Or did he hide everything from you since the beginning?

Pairing: yandere!san x reader

Warnings: yandere behaviour obvi, obsessive behavior, graphic description, dark themes, cursing

Word count: 10.8k

A/N: umm hi? pls forgive me for not updating in a WHILE. i didn't forget about this acc i promise, just had a lot of stuff going on and ofc i still love our boys <3 hope y'all like this long ass oneshot, pray for the hongjoong one to finish quickly as well :' thx u for everyone for the support and comments while im away

Tags: @starillusion13 @cqndiedcherries @wooyoungjpg @miriamxsworld (comment below if u want to be in the permanent tags!)

The cold gush of wind hits you like a ton of bricks as you exited your school, shivering as you tried to keep yourself warm by hugging yourself. You eyed the numerous students chattering away with their friends, making you look around to search for your friend in the midst of the unknown faces.

When you spotted your friend, Iseul, near the entrance gate, you slowly walked towards her before stopping yourself. You smirked when you noticed the tall boy she's been talking for the past few months, quickly snapping a photo before walking away, wanting to not disturb their moment.

You sighed when you walked quietly to where you parked your bike, buying bungeoppang near the market before eating it as you observe the quiet atmosphere. Your small town just outside of the city was nothing special nor exciting, that's why almost everyone moved out when they can. A few stayed as to live with their family, but only a few instances such as yourself, living with your mother and aunt.

Iseul wants to get out of this 'shit hole' as she deems when she graduates high school, already applying for a scholarship. You on the other hand, can't even imagine yourself in the future on what you could possibly do. Your mother never went to the city, only working as a farmer. Your aunt did go, going to university to get a degree yet she can't even get any work after graduating, getting paid as a bartender before she quits to help your mother.

Deep down, you're scared of failure. Your whole life you're only a mediocre student, good yet not astounding grades and not having a big social circle like Iseul. You can't imagine going to the city to actually live there for a few years just to be met with failure when you can't even get a job, thus making you move back to your old town.

That sounds like a nightmare.

Forcing yourself out of the bad thoughts, you jogged to where your bike is, before stopping yourself when you notice the broken chain. You groan loudly, looking around to find the culprit only to find no one standing near you.

You placed the half eaten bungeoppang inside your bag, assessing the broken chain as you tried to think on what to do. This bike was your only transportation. Sure, you could use the bus but you're already so low on money that you'd rather risk walking by foot to school everyday.

You sighed, perking up at the sound of the bus stopping near you, the temptation of going home and leaving the old bike here is already growing. But you squashed that feeling when you remembered that it's your mother's bike.

The sound of quiet footsteps reached your ears, you glancing back before making eye contact with a boy. He seems startled, quickly moving around before walking back the opposite of you. He's around your age, maybe he knows one or two things about how to fix the bike.

"Hey, school boy! Can you help me?"

The boy stopped in his tracks while you wait for him to do anything. Thankfully, he walks back to where you're crouching, eyes downcast as he moved the plastic bag containing...oranges? To his other hand.

The boy seems familiar, his uniform shows that he's another student from a school nearby yours. The red scarf hides almost half of his face, only his sharp cat like eyes showing to you.

"Can you help me?" You asked, noting how the boy's ears turned slightly red before shaking his head. You sighed, standing up as you looked at the bike with frustrated eyes. You glanced at boy once more, finding him staring the broken chain a bit too hard. You look away, hiding the amused smile growing on your face.

"—fix it."

"Eh?" You asked, not hearing what he said clearly. "What did you say?"

"I think I can fix it."

"Thank you for your help," You say as the both of you walked side by side, your bike now temporarily fixed. "I can't imagine leaving the bike there on its own. I mean, it's my mom's bike after all but still! It's really old and I think we should buy another one...maybe."

You secretly glanced at the boy, not sensing any noise of acknowledgement or any head nod towards what you've just said. You pursed your lips, softly nudging his shoulder with yours. "You don't want to talk to me, huh?"

The boy's eyes only widens slightly, before looking down. You huff playfully before you remembered you haven't even asked his name. "Hey, what's your name? My name is (name)!"

You waited for any response from him, sighing in disappointment when he didn't say anything back. You stopped when you've reached your house, the boy stopping as well as he nervously looks back and forth between you and the house.

You're yelling internally deep down, wanting the awkward moment to end. Maybe the boy's too shy, and you feel bad for forcing him to talk when you just met him a few hours ago.

"Soo, thanks again. I'll just...go home now," You say as you slowly walk with your bike in tow, closing your eyes in embarrassment at the interaction. Hurried footsteps stopped you in your tracks, eyes widening when the boy placed one of the oranges inside your hand.

"San," He utters gently. "My name is San."

You smile softly at him, but before you could say anything, San walks away with hurried steps. "Nice to meet you, San! Thank you for helping me!" You scream loudly, giggling when you see San glancing back and forth at you.

When San disappeared from your sight, you continued your walk towards your house, the slight dirt from the orange makes you question as to why San even had dirty oranges in the first place.

Entering your house, you notice how quiet it is, your mother's slippers nowhere in sight nor your aunt's running shoes. You shrug to yourself before entering the kitchen, placing the singular orange near the fruit basket your mother received from her friend. Noticing the small note on top of an old takeout your aunt probably ordered two days ago, you assume that's going to be your dinner.

A normal occurrence in your household is your mother staying with her friends if she's not working, probably to talk and gossip. Your aunt is a different story though, you never know what exactly she's doing on her free time, and she never really told you either. So you kept quiet and let her be. She's an adult after all.

Heating up the food and eating it alone in the living room whilst watching TV was also a normal occurrence for you. You're used to it because ever since you're young, your mother rarely ate dinner. She doesn't really like eating anyways, especially inside a house that holds a reminder of her past.

Your aunt sometimes joined in, asking you here and there about school or maybe reminiscing about her old life in the city. Either way, it usually ends up with her drinking away her regrets.

You shivered, clicking your tongue when the kitchen window was slightly open. It's already getting dark, the only lights you see are the ones from the nearby house or you could say mansion, by how big it is compared to the other houses in town.

You remembered San walking towards the mansion's direction. Maybe he lives there? You never really see anyone besides two men, but you did overheard your mother one day about a woman supposedly living there.

Placing down your food on the small foldable table, you turned on the prehistoric TV that's probably already there before you're born. You didn't find anything interesting though, so you picked a random news channel before eating your food.

A few hours into eating, a small knock came from your front door, making you pause from peeling the orange San gave. You glanced at the clock, too early for your mother and aunt to come home. Plus they never knock anyway.

"Coming!" You yelled, slowly walking towards the entrance before opening the door slowly. Surprise is probably written all over your face when you see San standing there, his gaze flickers down when he notices you staring at him.

"San?" You questions. "A bit of a surprise visit, don't you think?"

"Sorry, I—Uh, if you don't like me here—"

"Nonsense! What's up?"

His posture became tense, so you glanced down at the plastic bag he's holding tightly. A bit too tight in your opinion.

"I-I need a place to eat, my house..."

"Your house?"

"It's, um, not a good place to eat right now," San finishes, looking up towards where the big mansion is located.

Turns out you're right all along.

"Oh, you live there?"

"Yeah, but I can't stay there right now."

"Can I ask why? You don't have to answer me if you're not comfortable, of course," You gently added, not wanting San to feel pressured. He shrugs, shifting from one foot to another. "Just some stupid argument between my father and...my uncles."

You hum, glancing back at your house before finally deciding. "Yeah, sure, you could eat at my house." You hold back a smile when you notice San's slumped posture turned straight right away, as if he's not expecting you to say that. "R-Really? I can eat here?"

"Sure, but my house is a bit cramped because of junk. If you want, we could eat at the veranda. Not to brag or anything but the view is beautiful."

San lets out a small smile, tilting his head which made your heart squeeze at how cute he is. "Really? I never really notice."

"Meh, it's something," You shrug, opening the door wider, inviting San to follow you inside. "Come on, my food's getting cold."

San nods hesitantly, murmuring a small 'excuse me' before slipping out of his shoes before he just stands there, waiting for you to walk first. You giggle at him, showing him where the veranda is before excusing yourself to grab your food.

"Pretty, right?" You ask as you sat down besides him, looking out towards the view of the city. Your house is located a bit further than the city, your house shows the perfect view of the small number of lights the city shows. It's somewhat calming to you, mix that with the sounds of cicadas and you have the perfect night to just clear your mind.

"Yeah, it's calming."

You hum, glancing as San takes out a small container, pulling out a sandwich before eating it in silence. You followed suit, offering small bites of food to him when you notice he only brought his sandwich. "Did you make it yourself?"

"No, my...eomma made it."

Noticing the tense tone in his voice, you only hum in acknowledgement before continuing to eat. It's nice to have someone eating with you, the silence isn't uncomfortable, both of you appreciating each other's presence in silence. It's kinda funny to you that you're comfortable enough to invite a boy you just met a few hours ago. Then again, it's partially because your mother nor aunt is here to bother you.

"Thank you for letting me eat here," San quietly says, playing with his fingers nervously as he waits for your response.

"It's fine. I quiet like having someone here to eat with," You smile. "Plus, you're a good company. Well, better than my mother and aunt anyway."

"Really?" San sounds excited, before he coughs as he looks away, his cheeks red with embarrassment. "Sorry! That sounds rude of me—"

You laugh, patting his back in a friendly manner. "No, no, it's fine. I'm thinking the same thing as you."

You didn't notice how red his face is after you patted his back, but he did let out a small laugh, joining you before you both fell silent once again.

"Do you, uh, do you mind if I could eat here? Not always! Just when...home gets a bit too tiring," He asks, looking at you with hopeful eyes that it almost made you want to ask what exactly is going on in his house.

"Sure, but it's better if no one's here except me. My mother will deny any visitors this late at night while my aunt will just ask us about anything to annoy us."

San lets out a small laugh, which made you smile as you notice the dimple on his face. He really has a nice smile. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind."

"How 'bout this," You say. "We exchange phone numbers, you'll text me if you have a situation, and we'll agree on where to meet up to eat together. Maybe we could eat somewhere else if my mother and aunt are here."

San nods enthusiastically, shyly grabbing his phone before you enter your phone number. "So, we got a deal?" You offer your hand to shake hands with him.

"Deal," He smiles, grabbing your hand gently before shaking it. Inside your mind, you hope whatever relationship you have with San will last longer than whatever you had in the past. Deep down, you want to have someone else besides Iseul to hangout with. But you've never had the chance, until now.

Fast forward a few months, you and San are still going with the promise. It's nice to have someone to talk too, even though San usually just sits there and listens to you. You felt bad to be the only one talking, since you mostly tell stories about your family and Iseul. San tells you that it's fine, he didn't mind one bit that you're the only one talking.

You did ask him once about his family. Yet the tense posture and tone made you realize just how uncomfortable San is on about his family. So you never asked about it to him again.

Turns out, you and San are in the same year, but he's in another school that's considered by your school the 'enemy'. Probably because of the football feud both of the school has. But you didn't mind, the feud is mostly contained to the football team.

Iseul asked you about San one day, claiming that there's a boy from another school that's been hanging out around the school recently. And she's shocked to see you know about the boy.

"Choi San? He's in our year? He looks younger though!"

"Yeah, that's what I first thought as well. But he claims he's in our year," You shrugged, playing with one of the dolls Iseul has on her bed.

"Mystery solved! I was wondering why he's wandering around our school anyways."

"What do you mean?" You curiously asked Iseul. So far you've never encountered San around your school, only bumped into him once when you're buying groceries after school.

"Well, Jihwan told me that he's been seeing a boy from the other school a few times. He thought the boy was in the football team but he's never seen him before."

You hum, thinking back from the conversations you had with San. "No, I don't think he plays football. He likes drawing, so I guess it's not his style."

"Ooo, an artist," Iseul cooed.

"Oh, shut up!" You whine, playfully shoving Iseul before each of you grabbed a pillow before proceeding to hit each other with it. It felt nice hanging out with Iseul again. Although you did feel a bit weird after coming here, like there's someone staring at you.

You dodged the pillow Iseul throws when you catch a glimpse of black moving outside of her window. You frown before walking closely to the window, opening it slightly to see nothing outside.

"Why? What's wrong?"

You turned back to her, already sensing her panic rising when her tone wavered from your hard stare. You quickly masked it with a smirk, not wanting Iseul to hyperventilate just from a shadow. "Ha! Did I get you? You're so easy to scare."

"Asshole!" She screeched before pouncing on you, tickling your sides as you tried move away from her grasp. The squealing laughter from Iseul made you not realize the snapping of a branch outside, nor the figure running away into the darkness.

"San? Is that you, boy?"

San flinched, slowly looking towards the source of the voice, finding a man sitting in the darkness. San noticed the red stains covering his shirt right away, the man slowly wiping a bloody knife clean.

"Yeah. It's me, appa."

"Where were you, huh? You made Seokjin all worried," The man pointed towards a closed room. But from the screams emanating inside the room, it's obvious his other father is inside with his...mother.

"Sorry. I was out helping a friend."

"A friend?" The man, Taecyeon, whistled with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've found a girl to fuck?"

San felt annoyance rising inside his body at how his appa talked about you, but he composed himself as he shakes his head. "No, a friend wanted me to help them with their homework." He lied through his teeth.

Another man, Byungho, typing away in the darkness, chuckles lowly as he blew a puff of his cigarette. "Yeah, whatever you say, kid. Go wash up, you don't have school tomorrow. We need to train for your first mission! How exciting is that?"

San nods as the two men laughs, Taecyeon ushering San away so they could start training. San ignores as the screaming intensifies, throwing his school bag carelessly as he huffs. He glances at the lone picture hanging on his wall.

Five men. One woman. One boy.

His appa is Taecyeon, the so called leader of the assassin group. The others? San only calls them as his uncles, even though he knows they're all not really related. Seems like almost all of them owes something to his appa, but they stick together throughout the years for some reason.

His eomma is a mystery. San notices very early how different they are. He has no similarities to his eomma nor appa. But that really didn't matter, he loves his eomma nonetheless. Yet the abuse she suffers everyday makes him wonder why she hasn't run away when she's usually all alone in the house when they're all busy.

His eomma only smiles tight when he ask her about this, changing the topic swiftly that it made San feel guilty. So he tries to be the good son that his eomma always dreams off.

"Sannie?"

San whips his head towards the now open door, his eomma hiding half of her face with it. But he always notice the blood and bruises anyway.

Always.

"Appa's already waiting for you. Why don't you go wash up so he doesn't get mad at you? Hm?"

"Okay, eomma."

San watches as the door slowly closes, making him sigh as he cracked his neck to ease the tension. He needs to be careful after almost getting caught by you. He's training as an assasin like his appa for God's sake! He can't even walk quietly without you noticing.

What a loser.

Maybe he does need the extra training his appa suggested. Sure, it could be useful for missions in the future. But what's most important is so that he could always be with you without you noticing.

"Hey, did you hear the news?"

You hum, doodling away on your notebook as your teacher excused himself to the toilet. "What news exactly?"

"You know Mr. Huang? The one who lost his child a few years ago?"

"Yeah, I know him."

"He's dead," Iseul whispers. "Like...murdered. Not because of some natural death, literal murder!"

You frown, looking at Iseul with concerned eyes. "Iseul, how do you even know that?"

She shrugs. "I heard from the lady next door. Said that police from even outside of the city came here because of how gruesome it is."

"Wow, that bad?"

"Real bad," She mumbles. "My dad told me to stay away from the area since apparently the government is handling it."

"Wait, what about his wife? Is she—you know, dead?"

Iseul thinks silently for a few seconds, before shaking her head. "Not that I know of. The lady did told my mom that Mrs. Huang survived the whole ordeal, but she hasn't woken up yet."

"Poor woman. Already losing a son and now her own husband," You grimaced at the thought.

Rumor has it, both Mr. And Mrs. Huang's son was kidnapped in an apparent ransom act. But when they paid the money, their son never came back to them. Some say he's dead, even Mr. Huang. But a few still holds hope that the boy is still alive to this day, and Mrs. Huang apparently still believes that.

People gossip about how her son's room stayed untouched for the past few years. How Mrs. Huang once went mad at her own friend when they entered the room without permission. Soon after, her mental health started declining, making her stay at home most of the time.

"—from your lover boy?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of your head. "What did you say?"

"I said—have you heard from lover boy?"

"Shut up, Iseul. And no, I haven't heard from him for the past few days."

"You really should just visit his house," Iseul remarks softly as Mr. Kim entered the classroom again. "Didn't you say his house's near you?"

You never really say this to Iseul, not even San. But you did once visit his house to ask for his whereabouts. The result? Only a blank stare from the woman who answered the door. Her makeup barely covers the bruises marking her face, making you realize why San didn't want you to find out what's happening inside his house.

"Yeah, maybe I'll go after school," You replied back, knowing deep down you're hesitant to even step onto his family's land ever again.

Biting into the juicy meat, you hum happily as you munch on the braised beef your mother cooked a few hours ago. Your aunt is watching TV, laughing away on some random game show you haven't heard off. Your mother ate silently across you, her eyes empty as usual before she softly coughs to get your attention.

"(Name)? Have you ever stepped foot to the Choi's residence?"

You stopped chewing, looking towards your mother where she holds a grimace. "Um, no. I've never—"

"Answer me truthfully, girl."

Sheesh, she's really mad. Your mother rarely says that to you, only when she meant serious business only.

"I have. But only once! After that, I've never went there again."

Your mother hums, her grimace gone, changed into a more somber expression. "From now on I forbid you to go there, okay?"

"But—"

"No buts," She glares at you. "I don't care what's happening inside of that house, but what I do care is about your well-being."

You huff. "Why are you like this anyway?"

"Something happened. A few police came to the house this afternoon asking about the certain people living there. Turns out it's about the case of Mr. Huang, they suspect the killer—or killers— are living inside of that house right now."

Your eyes turned wide, mouth hanging open as your mother clicked her tongue before closing your mouth with her hand. "Don't do that. It's disgusting."

"Wait, hold on—what do you mean suspects? Are they suspecting everyone there?" You ask. Is this why San hadn't replied back to you?

She only shrugs. "As far as I know, the police are still investigating it. But...they have a strong evidence against the people living there."

"Strong evidence?"

"No clue. They didn't tell me anything again. What they did tell me though," Your mother paused her chewing as she thinks of her next words. "Is that whoever killed Mr. Huang was not only one person."

"A group then?"

Your mother shrugs. "Maybe. They're trying to find some of the stolen goods from his house, like jewelry and expensive items. And police started to search here when they got a tip from someone that one of Mr. Huang's expensive vases were found outside of the house."

God, this only made you more panicked as you tend to overthink about every little thing. San not replying to your texts, him disappearing for a few days. And apparently he's living with murderers? Then again, this should not surprise you ever since your first and last visit to the house.

"Go to sleep," Your mother tells you as she cleans the table. "You still have school tomorrow."

You can't even talk back to your mother, saying that tomorrow's Saturday, but you follow her order nonetheless. Too busy thinking about San in your head.

Entering your room, you softly closed the door only to be surprised by a hand covering your mouth. You scream loudly yet the person behind you shushed you gently. "Please, (name), be quiet."

San?

"San? What the fuck?" You whisper aggressively as he slowly drops the hand from your mouth. You gasp when you're met with the sight of him being bruised and bloody, his eyes tired as his posture turned from tense to weak.

"Oh my—what happened?!"

"Um, can I sit first? I don't think I can't stand much longer."

You quickly usher him to sit on a pillow you throw haphazardly on the floor, pointing at him with hard eyes as you open the door. "Wait here. Don't move. You need to answer questions first before you're off the hook."

He sheepishly smiles, giving you a thumbs up. "Sure, I'll wait here."

You exited your room quietly, walking slowly towards where your mother kept a small first aid kit near the bathroom. Placing it under your arm, you notice your mother and aunt are too busy doing their own thing. You took this advantage to walk quickly to your room, closing the door and locking it before you turn to San.

"First question, how did you get into my room?"

"Um, the window was opened and your mother's here. So I just—" San motions towards the open window, making you huff as you closed the window shut before covering it with the curtains.

"Second question, what the fuck happened to you?"

"It's...a long story."

"We've got time." You glare at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday, so talk."

San lets out a small laugh before he quiets down, nervously playing with his bruised hands as you sat down in front of him. "I'm very private on family matters. I don't want anyone to find out about it, but let's just say I reached a breaking point when I discovered some...new informations."

You pause, before dabbing one of his cuts with curious eyes. "New informations?"

He eyes you silently, the silence didn't really made you uncomfortable, but his gaze did things to you. You've never been this close to him, usually him keeping a distance whilst you respect the boundaries he put.

"I don't want to tell you any of it."

"Can I ask why?"

He hissed when you clean the cut near his eyebrow, apologizing quietly as you continue to work on his wounds. "Do you know what happened to Mr. Huang?"

You frown and eyed San with suspicion, dropping your hand towards your lap as you nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry what happened to him and his wife. I heard she's still alive."

San sighs, quickly rubbing his eyes as you notice the lone tear escaping. "Yeah, I'm sorry for him too."

"Why are you crying for a man you don't even know?"

He stayed quiet, looking away before he glances at you with hurt in his eyes.

"Why? What's wrong?" You whisper, hesitating to hold his hands.

"(Name), I'm a killer."

Your heart dropped, eyes wide as you tried to comprehend what he just said to you. "W-What? You're joking, right?"

San shakes his head silently, still eyeing you with his hard gaze. You laugh nervously, inching yourself away from him as he stayed in place.

"Choi San, this better be a joke. And if it is, it's not funny!"

He sighs, grabbing something out of his pocket before slowly sliding it towards you. "What do you see?"

It's a ring, and it looks pretty expensive from its appearance. "A ring?"

"Look closer."

You silently move closer towards it, eyeing it suspiciously as San snorts. "Why aren't you touching it?"

"Because I don't want to, San! Ever think of that?"

You huff, eyeing the ring on the floor before you noticed a hint of dark red on the ring. You bit your lip, glancing at him as you pointed towards it. "Is that—is that what I think it is?"

"You mean blood? Yeah, it is. But that's not what I want you to see. Look closer, inside of the ring."

His nonchalant response should've made you bolt the fuck out of your room, but you cast away the fear, moving closer again towards the ring.

And that's when you notice it.

A small carving inside of the ring. Initials.

'H.J'

It quickly clicks to you as to who owned the ring.

Huang Jeongcheol. The man who just got killed.

You stand upright quickly, already moving towards the door when San grabs you by the waist. Holding his hand towards your mouth, he shushed you gently as you scream and bite at his hand.

He placed you on your bed, pinning your hands with only one of his hands. You wonder to yourself, has San ever been this strong? From his appearance, you don't want to sound mean, but he looks like a normal school boy who doesn't like to workout nor doing sports.

"(Name), please listen to me. I know you're scared of me right now, but please listen to me. I'm begging you right now to please believe me because after this...I don't think we'll meet again for a long time."

You stare at San with distrust, but you can't help but feel a tad bit of sadness when he looks so dejected at you.

"The family that I know all my life—lied to me," He started. "They used me, trained me to be their apprentice, to kill people."

San looks away, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back at you. "They're not my real family. They never have. Especially after what they've pushed me through, to kill my own father."

You frantically move your head, allowing his hand to move away. "W-What? What do you mean?"

"I've always wondered why Mr. Huang cried at me when I stepped forwards to kill him. I just...did what the others did—kill them to get rid of the evidence," San whispers.

"But then, I started to get uneasy at seeing the house. How it all felt...familiar. And when I saw myself with them in pictures, when I was young—" San laughs wetly, tears running freely down his face. "—I knew, I instantly knew that I just killed my father. My own biological father! I thought I was hallucinating all of it but then I saw how the little boy is wearing my favorite jacket. The one that I own! I can't, I just—"

"Woah, San, calm down," You whisper as his breath became more erratic. You slowly raised his hand towards his chest, allowing the other one placed against your own. "Follow my breathing, good, that's it. Breathe in and out slowly."

"I can't stay here anymore," He whispers after his breathing became normal again, making you frown in confusion. "I killed one of them," He interrupts you. "I told him to tell me the truth, yet he persist that I'm better living with them. And that my father, my biological one, deserved to die."

You're lost for words, you don't even know what to say to him. You only hold his hand tighter as a sign of comfort. But you don't know if you're actually comforting him or yourself.

"I need to go, (name)," He slowly stands up, moving closer to your window to peek between the curtains. "It's not safe for me to be here after what I did. Especially for you."

"F-For me?"

"Yes," He stares at you with hard eyes, yet you can see how his eyes glisten with tears. "I can't let them hurt you. You—I care for you. I appreciate all of the nights we hung out, talk about stupid things and our dreams away from this small town. I want you to achieve your lifelong dream, but that can't happen when you're always the target of a group of killers."

"Why am I a target?" You ask with a quivering tone, fright creeping up on you as San looks on to you with pity. "Please, San. Tell me. Why am I the target?"

"Because they know I'm always here every night."

You can't stop the whimper coming out of your mouth, yet you remember your mother and aunt are still outside. You cry silently with your hand covering your mouth, kneeling to the ground as your breath became erratic.

"Am I going to die? I don't want to die, I can't die, San. I'm scared," You sob silently, crying even harder when he puts your face to his shoulder, his hands holding you tightly as you weep more and more.

"I know," He whispers, tucking your hair back as he hugs you tighter. "That's why I need to lure them away from this town. I don't need any of them in town."

"What? What about your mother?"

San pursed his lips, looking away as he sighs. "I was too late. I can't...protect her."

"Isn't she in the hospital?"

San shakes his head slowly, grasping your hand in his as he exhales a shaky breath. "I was too late, they reached her first."

You bit your lip as you imagined the only blood related family San has now is already dead. You flinched slightly at his hand brushing the tears away from your face, the hand slowly moving your face towards him as he pecks your mouth. A light one, but you've never kissed a boy—or really anyone—before.

You gasp in surprise, finding San smiling softly at you as he placed his forehead to yours. "I love you, (name). I don't know when or where, but I hope we'll meet again soon. Promise you'll wait for me?"

You closed your eyes, holding his hand tighter as a sign of promise. "I will. I'll wait for you."

The cold wind hits your body roughly, making you hug your thin coat tighter as you weave your way between people to get to your apartment. Readjusting the mask you open the building door as you nod towards the owner of the building, an old man who likes to smoke at late hours.

He nodded back before you walked slowly towards your designated floor. You avoid making eye contact with your neighbor, ignoring his staring as he waters his plants.

Such a weird habit. Who waters their plants at night?

Closing and locking the door, you sigh loudly as you pulled the mask from your face, brushing your hair away from your face as you lazily throw your shoes near the door.

So much has happened in the past five years.

Well, not that interesting to be honest in your life. Ever since he left.

San quickly left after the promise you've made to him, you staring at his back as he walks towards the darkness. Never to be seen again.

You've held on to the hope of him returning maybe for a year. Going about your day, ignoring the whispers from people around you about the murders and a missing boy. Paranoia started to slowly grow because of what he said to you, about being possibly killed.

Before you realized that it's all an empty promise and lies.

Then again, you were both young so you can't really blame younger you.

As for older you, or yourself currently, you're now living in the big city! Sure, you may be having a bit of a trouble handling money for university, having to work two part time jobs while studying, living in a small shitty apartment; but you're alive at least. And that's what matters.

Kicking what seems to be paper, you picked up two envelopes, one familiar and one you didn't recognize. You decided to shower first, grimacing at your sweaty skin as you quickly entered the bathroom.

Grabbing the convenient store bento on your way home, you smile as you open the first letter from your mother. Your relationship kinda got better when you left, feeling that deep down your mother missed you. She's just awkward on showing it to you.

Now, the other letter.

It's more high quality, more smaller than the one your mother sent. You looked for any names or address, but nothing. You chewed as you opened the letter, finding a small written letter.

Hello. You might not recognize me now, but I'm finally at a place where I feel I've accomplished enough to ensure your safety. I'll see you soon.

You frowned, looking at the back of the letter to see if there's anymore writing. When you see none, you folded the paper back to its envelope before chucking it towards the mess that is your desk.

A lone paper slips past you, probably from the envelope. You grabbed it only to get more confused and creeped out because it's a drawing.

Of you.

Tossing the drawing alongside the rest of the letter, you contemplated on what to do.

You don't know who it is, probably the letter was sent to a wrong address or it's someone messing with you. Then again, you don't really know whoever would waste their precious time on you anyways.

Cracking your neck with a sigh, you continued to eat before deciding to sleep in for the night. You're not that busy tomorrow, only a few classes and one part time schedule at the convenience store. You laid down, charged your phone, and closed your eyes as you waited for sleep to come by, waiting for tomorrow for you to repeat the same cycle.

"Hey, (name)," Your coworker, Chaemin, greeted with a tired smile as you nodded back in greeting. "I'll go change, wait here."

You hum, standing behind the cashier as you waited for him to finish. Nothing much happened today. Classes went by as normal, a few friends invited you to a party but you sadly declined as you're now working, and that's it.

Entering the staff's room as Chaemin exited, he bid you goodbye as you changed into your uniform. Grabbing your phone before exiting, you held back a yawn as you sat down behind the cash register, looking around the dead and empty convenience store. You don't expect much customers this late at night so you proceeded to play a new game on your phone.

Not long after, a ding was heard indicating a new customer, making you glance up, eyebrows raised in confusion as to who just entered.

A man, wearing a dark grey three piece suit, holding a briefcase as he slowly walks towards the drink isle. Who wears black gloves anyways?

Not something you would see this late at night, but it's better than some drunkards yelling profanities all around. You realized you're staring too hard on the man, flicking your gaze towards your phone once more as slow steps rang throughout the store.

"Excuse me?"

"Y-Yes?" You replied back with surprise, not expecting the man to talk. You noticed the man smiling as he holds the drink in his hand, smiling slightly making you notice the small dimple on his cheek.

He's pretty handsome, you'll give him that.

"Is this the 'buy one get one' drink promo?"

"Yes, but you can only buy the same flavour to get the promo, sir."

"Sir? Do I really look that old to you?" He chuckles softly, grabbing the drinks and continue to look around to grab snacks.

You scratched your head in embarrassment. "O-Oh, sorry. Just formalities and all for me, you know?"

The man hums, walking towards the you as he placed the small basket on the counter before smiling at you. "No worries, don't be scared. Just jokin' with you."

You smile politely, scanning the items before stating the price, accepting the cash as you tried to ignore his hard stare at you. Sure, he's handsome and all but he's just a passing customer that you'll soon forget in a few days. Besides, nothing exciting ever happens to you anyway.

You waited for the man to go away, surprise in your eyes as he slides one of the drinks to you. You looked up to him, pointing at the drink. "Um, what's this?"

"A treat."

"For?"

He shrugs with a smile, "Just something to make your day better."

"Alright...thank you?"

"You're welcome," He replies softly, grabbing the plastic bag that seemed so out of place with the rest of his outfit. As he exited the store, you squinted your eyes when you saw a flash of red splatter behind his suit.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes in frustration and tiredness. You really do need to fix up your schedule or you'll pass out anytime soon.

Blood?

You thought that one encounter was going to be the last time you'll ever see the man. That's what you had in mind as you've worked through your other part-time jobs, just going with the flow.

It's a surprise when the man entered once more, greeting you with a smile. His suit is immaculate as ever, black with unopened buttons at the top, sleeves rolled as he walks around the store.

"Rough night?" He asks, sliding the drink to you as he finished paying.

You shrug, thanking him halfheartedly as you open the drink given to you. "Just tired."

"Well," He starts. "I hope tomorrow will be a better day for you. You never know what's going to happen, huh?"

You know those words were supposed to make you feel better, but somehow, it only does the opposite for you. You nod with an awkward smile. "Yeah, sure."

"Goodnight then—" He squints behind his glasses, reading your name tag. "—(name)."

"Goodnight."

You stare at his retreating back, noting no sights of red splatter on his back. That is, until you're eyes reached his shoes that you notice the red small imprint it left behind.

Yeah, you're definitely not going crazy from sleep.

"What?! You've never dated anyone in that big of a city?" Iseul hissed through the phone, making you scoff at her. "Uh, yeah? Too busy making money so I could live the next day is pretty important to me, you know?"

"Oh, I know. I didn't mean it that way."

"No," You held back a yawn behind your hand. "I kinda agree with you here. I just—I don't know, I don't have time? Sure, dating sounds like a dream for me. But I'm afraid I'm to busy to manage a relationship and I'll get dumped."

"That's why communication is important!" Iseul replied back with vigor. "Look, I'm not going to force you but my boyfriend has a friend there, coincidentally, that's also single."

"Is that why you called me?"

"No! Well...maybe," She laughs nervously. You smirk in amusement but told her to go on.

"Right! His name is Donghyun, goes to the same university if I'm not wrong. He's older around three years than you. Sounds good?"

"Uh, any other information that you know besides that?"

"Sorry, I don't really know the guy. But, my boyfriend says that he's really nice. If you're down, I'm gonna give your number to him."

You sigh, thinking about the dangers of meeting a stranger for a date. Then again, you really need something other than working your ass off in your spare time. You contemplated for a minute, before cutting off Iseul's rambling on the phone. "Hey, I'll go."

Iseul started to scream loudly, making you pull away from the phone in an instant. "My ears!"

"Sorry, sorry! I'm just so happy for you!"

You laugh lightly, "I haven't even met the guy, Iseul."

"Well, I hope he's good to you. If not, then I can go to you and find him to beat his ass up if he ever hurts you."

"Alright, I hope you protect me from whatever danger there is," You hum.

The conversation between you and Iseul goes on until the morning. Thankfully, you only had one class and no work since you covered one of your coworkers shifts and in return, now they're covering yours.

It's a surprise when an unknown phone number texted you, introducing himself as the man himself, Donghyun. He texted cutesy enough, adding cat stickers every now and then that made you laugh. He wanted to meet you today, which made you think about how he's really desperate but deep down you're desperate too.

You agreed to meet up after your class this afternoon, meeting at a cafe nearby so you assumed he also has classes today.

Wanting to make a good impression, you decided to dress up a bit more nicer with a dress. You kept your hairstyle simple yet pretty, using some light makeup before deciding to go to class after a big brunch.

You ignored the curious glances you received at class, quickly leaving when it finished. You texted Donghyun that you're walking to the cafe, surprised that he's already there and asked if you wanted any drinks or food.

When you arrived, you looked around before seeing someone waving their hand at you. You held back a noise of surprise at the sight of a familiar face. You've seen him before a few times at university, what a small world.

"Donghyun?"

"Yeah! You must be (name), it's nice meeting you," He smiles widely as he gestures towards the seat across him. "I already ordered the drinks and food here. So, uh, dig in!"

"Thanks," You smiled at him.

Donghyun really is a nice guy. Very attentive to your needs, a true gentleman. But a few times he sounds a bit...ignorant.

"Oh, wow! You work two part-time jobs and go to university? That's really admirable."

You nod along. "Yeah, it sucks and tiring. But I need the money, ya know?"

"Why can't your parents pay for it? It seems like a parents duty to pay for their child's education."

You held back a grimace, hiding it with a shrug of your shoulders. "Yeah, that's true. But they don't have much money to support me plus themselves. So I had to resort to working."

"No wonder you look tired all the time. No offense, but you look like a zombie every time I see you."

You laugh along with him, noticing how he opens his mouth once more probably to ask you the same questions. But you diverted the topic to him, asking what major he's in.

You learned Donghyun was a business major, following along his mother's footsteps to continue their oil tycoon. Everything suddenly clicks as Donghyun tells you his story.

He's old money and super rich. Whilst you're an ordinary country bumpkin.

Basically two different worlds.

But you really don't care about that now. He seems like a sweetheart, and you're tired of the same cycle you're going through every fucking day.

You need a breath of fresh air.

So you agreed to date him. Scheduling seems a bit hard because of your schedule, but Donghyun seems to be fine with it, asking you to message him if you have any spare time.

One date turns to two. Two turns into three more dates. Until you realized you've been dating Donghyun for the past three months.

He really is a sweet guy. But you know it's never going to last long from the expectations his parents had for him about his life, so you took everything lightly and just enjoyed the flow. Besides, he likes to spoil you with gifts. You're not going to decline that, especially if it's necessary needs like foods and clothes.

One thing that never changed though is the man that routinely visits the convenience store once a week. New suits, same old face, and the always changing positions for the blood. Because of this, you kept your distance from him. Always setting boundaries when he asks you personal questions, but never getting mad since you don't want to make him pissed off.

"New bracelet?"

"Huh?"

"Is that a new bracelet you bought? Looks cute," The man smiled, pointing towards the beaded bracelet you had on.

"Yeah, my boyfriend bought it for me," You replied back nonchalantly, scanning the items in front of you. Not noticing how the man posture snapped in an instant from relaxed to tense.

He hums, tracing letters on the counter. "Boyfriend, huh? Who's the lucky guy?"

"No one you know, of course. But it's someone from my university."

The man nodded once more, scoffing before he quickly replaced the frown with a smile. "How long you've been dating?"

"Not your business."

"Aw, I thought we were friends—"

"Uh, no? I don't even know your name. Why would I be friends with you?" You stared at the man with a confused gaze, quickly averting your eyes when he only blankly stared at you with no expression on his face.

"Of course, my apologies. Here, take the drink. You need it."

You hesitantly grabbed it. "Thanks, I guess."

He nods once, grabs his things, before walking out of the store. You let out a relieved sigh, pushing the drink out of your way. "Fucking creep."

You glanced into the empty streets outside, relieved the man was nowhere to be seen. You grabbed your phone just in case when you saw a text from Donghyun.

You: when?

Dodo: coffee date? <3

You contemplated for a while, knowing you have a shift tomorrow. But one of your coworkers could cover you for one day, it wouldn't hurt.

Dodo: hoping tmrw is ok?

You: sounds good :)

You ignored the sinking feeling growing inside you, wanting to have fun once in a while without overthinking it.

But maybe you should've listened to your gut this time.

"Wow, this place is really secluded," You commented at the small indie cafe. Donghyun shrugged, pulling out a chair for you. "I know, but the reviews are really good. And my friends told me it's worth it."

"Alright, did they recommend anything?"

"The croissant looks good, but they recommended we buy the red velvet slice."

You nodded, giving out your usual drink order to Donghyun as he walks up to order. You looked around and noticed how empty it is for a supposedly popular cafe. Yeah, two people are outside right now, drinking and smoking. But other than that, the place looks deserted.

"Here you go," Donghyun placed the drinks and food. "Pretty fast but they don't have any customers besides us right now."

"Yeah, doesn't it feel weird to you? A popular cafe this empty on a Friday?"

He shrugs, already drinking away. "Like you said, it's a secluded place. It's popular, yeah, but only a few people know."

"Really?"

"Not a lot things on social media, but maybe this cafe runs from word of mouth? You know, people talk to their friends who in return come here."

"Maybe," You answered, but there's still doubt lingerie in your head. You brushed it off as Donghyun started to talk, asking about you and telling stories about him and his friends.

The cake was honestly really good, you can't get enough of it. But you stopped eating when you notice Donghyun yawning for the fifth time in a row. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just—" He yawns widely before continuing. "I don't know why I feel really sleepy."

"Did you not sleep well last night?"

"I did! I just—I don't know why I'm suddenly so tired."

You opened your mouth to reply back but only met with your own yawn passing through. "Woah, that's a surprise."

Donghyun laughs. "Are you tired too? Damn, we're meant to be." His head slumps towards the table, no sounds from him other than soft breathing.

Your gaze started to get weird, looking around as your head started to get dizzy. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the barista talking to someone, someone in a suit. You tried to move away from the approaching figure, but felt your body too weak to even move.

In the next few seconds, your eyes started to get droopy before you succumb to the darkness.

You don't know how long you're out, but one thing for sure is you got a massive headache. And you're tied to a chair in a small room.

You groan at the light hitting your eyes as you open your eyes, grimacing at the painful headache growing rapidly.

"—Thank you again, for the help."

"Well, don't got much choices do I?"

"Yes, that's true. But thank you nonetheless."

"Hey," You spoke out loud. "Hey! Where the fuck am I?!"

"Sounds like your lover's awake," A gruff voice replied.

The door besides you opened slowly, making you glare at the familiar man smiling widely at you. "Hello, headache?"

"No shit!" You hissed at the man who only innocently smiles at you. "What did you do? Where's Donghyun?"

"Now, now, you don't have to worry about some other man," He gently replied, grabbing an extra chair out of nowhere. You glared at the man as he fixed his cuff links, clicking his tongue when he noticed a small patch of red staining his white clean button up.

"Who's blood is that?"

"No one you need to worry about," He laughs, fixing his glasses as he smiles at you. "I'm sorry we need to reunite like this, but you gave me no choice."

"What the—wait, reunite? What do you mean reunite?" You whispered in shock.

He laughs softly at you, brushing a piece of hair away from your face as you flinched away from him. "I don't blame you for not recognizing me. I have to...alter my appearance because of my job."

"Just tell me who you are!"

"I've killed my own biological family members, who's been searching for me every since a group of assassins kidnapped me for ransom," He starts, playing with the ring on his finger. "Huang Jeongcheol, the innocent man that I've killed without knowing. And Huang Hyorin, who I've failed because I was too late to save her."

Your head started to ache painfully, your breathing becomes more ragged as you stared at the man you once knew in your past, suddenly here with you.

Kidnapped you. And could possibly hurt you.

"S-San?"

"Hi, (name)," San smiles as he moves closer to you. He coos as he brushed away the tears that escapes your eyes. You didn't even notice you're crying, you didn't know why. Maybe because all this time you've let go of the past with him, finding it to be near impossible when he didn't even tried to contact you.

"Why are you crying, love?"

"Wha—I thought, I thought you're dead!"

"And why would I be?" He hums, continuing to brush your hair softly, a smile etched on his face as you tried to calm your breathing.

"You said people were after you! Tried to kill you!" You screamed loudly, glaring at him with wild eyes. "And you said they're also after me! How can I not conclude that you're dead when you didn't contacted me whatsoever!"

He sighs, sitting again in front of you whilst he holds your hands to his. "I know. And I've wanted to meet you after I've sent the letter—"

"You've sent that creepy letter?!"

"Yeah, I gotta admit it is creepy," He laughs. "But anyways, back to the story. I didn't contact you because I've been working."

"You got a job? Here?"

"Not necessarily here," He explains. "Let's just say I've become what I've been trained for since my younger years."

Dread grows inside your body, looking at San with weary eyes as you hoped whatever suspicions you had about him was wrong. "You kill people for a living? L-Like them?"

He nods once.

"Oh, San...why? Did anyone force you to work this—"

"No one forced me!" He yells, making you jump as you closed your mouth in an instant. His eyes now wild with fire, glaring incessantly at the wall as his hold on your hands turned tighter. He lets go of your hands as you yelped in pain, mumbling a small 'sorry'.

"No one forced me, (name)," He continues. "Yes, I've been living like hell just so I could live another day! Hiding in slums, stealing, begging to strangers for food, whatever I could do to hide from that bastards!"

"But I've had enough one day, I've just had it with them," He hissed, pacing back and forth in front of you as he crossed his arms. "So I become a hitman, for the people who need it. I need the money and the relations to get back at them, and I've become weak over the years because I didn't train enough. But one job turned into more and more, and suddenly people in the industry know my name. They respected me for my work ethic, cleanliness, and no bullshit attitude."

"A-And did you—"

"Yeah, I did it," He smirks in triumph. "I killed the last one just two years ago. Bastard didn't even put up a fight, fucking beheaded him. It felt so...euphoric to see the light slowly disappearing from his eyes."

You flinched when his gaze turns to you. "And you, (name), I've never forgotten you once in my life. I've prayed to whatever God is there to always be there for you when I'm not there. I've hold on to the promise we've made, and when I first saw you here—" He laughs happily. A lovesick look on his face as he sighs, "I couldn't believe my eyes. You look the same yet you look so angelic and beautiful when I first saw you. I thought about the future we could have together, just us together. Maybe we could get a pet. Besides, I'm respected now! I have money to spoil you and you don't have to even work. But..."

"But?"

"But you broke our promise," San hissed with venom. "You said you'll wait for me! You said you wanted to be with me. And I find you all of a sudden with a boyfriend!"

He looks at you with hurt and betrayal, hands clenched tightly as you tried to look away from his stare. "What was I supposed to do? Wait for you?!"

"Yes! You promised me, (name)!"

"We were young!" You bellowed out to him, chest heaving with anger as he looks at you with hard eyes. "We were young, San. It's stupid for me to just wait in that damn town. I was scared to move away, yes, but I wanted to get out of that small town since forever."

You looked at him desperately, ignoring the warning signs ringing inside your head from the look on San's face. "I have to think for myself and my family. I moved here to get better education, and I worked my ass off to get money so I could buy food and pay for my utilities! I was stressed out thinking people were out to get me, before I realized it's all bullshit!"

"It's not bullshit, (name)!"

"Oh, I know," You mumbled. "But I can't live my life just for some promise I made to them in the past. It's called moving on, San."

He's quiet as you cough lightly, now feeling how dried your throat is as you glanced around the room for any escape. You turned to look at him as he lets out a breathy laugh, hands wiping his face in an obvious attempt to hide his anger.

"So, the promise you made...it doesn't mean anything to you, huh?"

You looked away, closing your eyes before answering. "It used to mean something. But at one point, I just—I just let go of my worries. I got into a good university, I moved away, worked hard for money so I could sustain my life. I've met good friends here—"

"And a boyfriend."

"Yes," You glared at him. "A boyfriend. Whom I've choose to date because I wanted to. I know it's not a serious relationship, but I wanted to get out of the stress for just one moment. And you're mad at me for that?!"

San shakes his head, looking away from your gaze. "I'm not mad, just disappointed. I wanted for us to be together, and now you're protecting this asshole like you love him."

"I do love him," You answered. He scoffs loudly, laughing loudly as he shakes his head. "Like you've said, this relationship wasn't meant to last this long. And I think I should end this now."

You're eyes widen as he stood up, cracking his knuckles as he stretches. "S-San? What—What are you doing?"

He smiles, not in a loving way, but more sinister and mocking. "Don't worry," He pats your head, messing up your hair even more. "I just need to get rid of him. Then, we'll finally be together."

"What?! No, wait!"

You tried to move, tried to get help by screaming, only to stop when you hear a loud scream outside. You whimper when a thud was heard outside, trying to find anything to cut the ropes tying you up as the screams started to get even more desperate.

"No! San, please! Leave him be," You cried out.

Another scream.

"Please, please! Just let him go! He didn't do anything wrong!"

A groan from Donghyun before he pleads for his life.

"San! Please, don't kill him."

A final 'thud' was heard outside.

No sounds.

You cried and cried, tears running down freely from your eyes as you whimper. Donghyun is dead because of you.

You didn't look up when the door opened, too exhausted to even lift up your head as you continued to sob silently.

"Thanks again, Jongin."

You glanced up to see the barista standing near the doorway. "Whatever," He mumbles. "I need to clean up anyways. The usual?"

San hums happily, brushing away the strands of hair that has fallen down his perfectly styled hair. "Yeah. Make sure to cut him up, place him in different areas. I'll tip you even more money."

"You got it."

With one final look from the man, he closed the door.

Leaving you with this psychopath.

"Look at me, (name). I know you're tired, but please look at me," He cooed.

"No," You whispered, not able to see the blood stains on him.

He sighs, walking up to you to grab you by the hair. You yelled in pain, before shutting your mouth as his grip turned tighter.

"Here's a warning for you," He starts. His eyes crazed and face covered in blood. "Do stupid things that'll make me mad, and others will face the consequences."

He points towards the door. "That's warning number one."

"I don't want to hurt you anymore," He whispers, grip turning more loose as he lets go of your hair. He walks around you, eyes cold and emotionless. So different from the one before. "But, if I have to—I will kill others you love."

"No, please."

"And if you do something that steps over the boundaries I'll give you," He stops in front of you, cupping your chin so you'll look at him. "I will kill your mother."

"No!" You scream, desperation in your tone. "Please, not her! Don't kill anyone," You cried out to him.

San smiles, his expression turned more soft in a matter of seconds. He kneels before hugging you, kissing your lips deeply like he's a starved man. He bites your lip enough to make it bleed, making you whimper in pain. He sighs, happily, brushing your tears away with his thumb before smiling.

"Be mine, (name). All of your worries will go away, and no one will ever be hurt because of you."

From the things you only have, he really needs to spoil you more. He thinks about the new clothes he could buy, some nice accessories for you to wear, maybe even some naughty things for the both of you to enjoy—

San hums a happy tune as he moves the boxes from your small apartment. He can't believe you live in this dump when you could've lived with him in a nice apartment. Then again, you lived according to your budget so he can't really blame you.

Plus he had other things to work on, planning the apartment, making sure you're comfortable there. Maybe killing a few people to make sure nobody gets suspicious as to where you are. Families are usually the most bothersome people to handle with, that's why he needed to make your last remaining family member die. He's skilled enough anyways to make it seem like an accident.

Your mother, a heart attack.

Your aunt, car crash.

Your friend, Iseul, killed by her boyfriend.

You don't know of course. He'll make sure of that.

"Hey, who are you?"

San looks around before seeing an old man standing at the end of the hallway, voice gruff probably because of the cigarette he's smoking. He smiles in ease, knowing it's your landlord after the stalking he's done throughout the years.

"Oh! I'm (name)'s boyfriend, sir."

"And what exactly are you doing?"

"Just moving out some of her stuff," He shrugs. "We decided to live together now."

"And why isn't she here?"

His smile turned more tense, already feeling annoyed from questions. Can't this old fart just go away?

"She's sick, sadly. So I'm tasked with moving the rest of her stuff."

The old man only nods. "Good, take care of her. She's too coped up here, she's still young."

San laughs, "That's what I've said to her too!"

He eyes the old man, cocking his head to the side as he smirks in amusement. "Don't worry, I'll take real good care of her."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere kpop #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #yandere ateez #san x reader #san x you

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daisynik7 · 11 months

Text

Give You Blue

Chapter 3: Umbrella

🎶 I can't stop the rain, but I will keep you dry 🎶

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

Rating: Explicit (this chapter does not contain any explicit material, but the series as a whole will remain Explicit)

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Eren is in 3rd), angst, a little bit of fluff

Word Count: ~2.9k

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Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist

Summary: With your classes as a distraction, you manage to survive a month into your breakup. However, you hit a snag when you run into your ex for the first time since the start of the semester. And, as if it couldn't get any worse, you forget to bring an umbrella on a day with heavy rainfall. Luckily, someone comes to your aid. Author’s Notes: Introducing Eren’s point of view! Hope you enjoy this one! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Thank you so much for the support! If you want to be tagged in any future chapters, please let me know in the comments or interact with the Give You Blue Taglist post. Appreciate y’all! Divider created by @/mikeykuns.

Eren hates his major.

It’s not that he dislikes biology. In fact, he adores it. He has fond childhood memories of Armin sneaking encyclopedias from his grandpa’s library so that the two of them can flip through each page, eyes wide open in awe at the information displayed. Eren has always been particularly fascinated with science.

No, it’s not biology; he hates being pre-med. He’s only doing it because his father, the renowned Dr. Grisha Jaeger, gave him an ultimatum. It was either pre-med or no tuition, without any room for compromise. Eren’s fate is to become a physician, whether he likes it or not, all because it’s what the Jaeger patriarch wants. To be fair, he’s never stood up for himself. Zeke, his older brother, is in med school at Marley. He can’t be the sole disappointing son; he just can’t.

So, instead, he suffers. One month into the semester, and he’s already struggling with organic chemistry. Freshman year, he aced biology, no problem. But chemistry? It’s a totally different language that he can’t comprehend.

Inside the lecture hall, he stares at his graded quiz, a big 53% scribbled in bold red ink. He glances at the other students, sneaking a peek at what they got. His concerns lessen slightly, spotting a few other 50s. Luckily, because the exam was so difficult, the professor informs them that it will be weighted. Still, this isn’t good enough. He’ll have a hard time explaining this one to the doctor.

When class is dismissed, Eren remains in his seat, head in his hands, re-evaluating his life choices. Is it going to be this way the rest of the semester? The remainder of the schoolyear? For the next decade? He’s only a sophomore; it’s only going to get harder from here. There’s so much pressure to do well right off the bat. After all, a high GPA is required for him to get into the prestigious Marley School of Medicine, the same university Zeke is currently attending. The standard has already been set high, and Eren needs to reach it if he doesn’t want to be considered a failure.

There’s a heavy burden weighing him down, sometimes he finds it difficult to breath. The first semester of freshman year was a breeze; he had a good handle on his classes, snuck into a few frat parties with Mikasa and Armin, made fond memories with his friends. It was fun. Now, it’s anything but. He signed up to be an RA to have his own personal space so he could study. Basically coop himself in his room without having to resort to the library across campus. He tries to see his friends, but rarely goes out to a party. Armin, of all people, joined a frat last semester and has invited Eren out several times, always resulting in him declining.

College is no longer enjoyable. And maybe for him, it was never meant to be. Is this what his life is going to be in the future? All work, no play? Is he destined to become like his workaholic father, who is hardly home? His brother, who’s aged twenty years despite being under thirty? He’s constantly debating in his mind if this is the route he wants to take. It keeps him awake at night, stressing about it.

Eventually, he gets up out of his seat, slinging his backpack across his shoulders, his other hand grasping a large umbrella. The forecast predicted rain all afternoon. Fitting for how he’s feeling at the moment.

Walking out of the lecture hall and towards the exit, he notices someone standing near the door, leaning against the wall, face buried in their hands. He approaches closer, realizing it’s one of his residents. And she’s crying.

~~~

It’s been a month since Reiner broke up with you. Your classes have been a well-needed distraction, keeping yourself focused on assignments rather than memories of your past relationship. Still, when you’re in bed every night, desperate to fall asleep, the flashbacks play on a continuous loop, keeping you awake. It’s been difficult to get a proper amount of sleep because of this. It’s a vicious cycle, one you haven’t quite figured out how to get out of. But like Annie said, baby steps.

With your midday class over, you walk to the nearest vending machine, purchasing a canned coffee beverage to fuel your perpetual exhaustion. Caffeine has been one of your saving graces during this trying time, aside from the support from your friends. It also helps that you haven’t seen Reiner since the drastic breakup. You’ve been actively avoiding all of the usual spots you used to frequent with him, going out to the cafeteria, library, or the mini mart at odd times of the day. He hasn’t reached out to you, most likely giving you space until you decide to initiate. What do you even say? You’re trying to move on, and keeping in contact with him would only make it harder. But there’s no denying it; you miss him.

As you step towards the exit, you notice all the other students clad in their waterproof coats or holding umbrellas. It’s pouring now, and you’re not prepared at all. Annie’s reminder last night resurfaces in your brain a little too late. She mentioned how it was supposed to rain today, and you probably brushed it off. Or maybe in your rush to get to class this morning, running on only two hours of sleep, it slipped your mind.

Directly across is the next building. Thinking quickly, you hunch underneath your backpack, making some sort of makeshift shelter, and hurry over, doing your best to avoid getting soaked. There’s a large crowd of students leaving one of the lecture halls. You push past them, pausing near the exit, trying to decide what your next move should be. And that’s when you her him.

“Coco?”

Your heart drops when you hear his voice, uttering that all too familiar nickname. Slowly, you turn around, seeing Reiner standing before you with a pretty, blonde woman beside him.

“Oh. Hi.” You do your best to sound nonchalant, actually stunned by his presence.

He swallows hard, clearly nervous. “I didn’t know you had a class in here.”

“No, I don’t. I was just passing through. I, uh, forgot my umbrella, so I’m trying my best to avoid the rain.” You glance down at your shirt, spotted with droplets. “Obviously, it’s not working,” you add, with a small chuckle. You’re surprised that you can laugh when there’s dread suffocating your lungs. Seeing him in the flesh, after weeks of miraculously avoiding him, is hitting you harder than you imagined.

Reiner stares at you, concern in his eyes. The same expression he’s given you throughout your life whenever he was worried about you. “It’s pouring the rest of the day. You’re going to get soaked.” It’s genuine the way he says it; like he still cares about you. It makes you regret coming here in the first place.

“We can walk you to your dorm, if you want.” Her voice startles you for a second, forgetting she’s here as you fixate on your ex. She gives you a small smile when she continues. “I’m Christa, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

You shake her hand, introducing yourself. Glancing at her sweatshirt, two deltas stitched across with a floral pattern, you comment, “I like your letters. They’re very cute.”

Her smile widens. “Thank you! My big gave it to me last semester. Are you also in a sorority?”

“No, I’m not,” you reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

She wiggles her finger at you and Reiner. “How do you two know each other, then?”

“We’ve known each other since we were kids. We grew up together,” Reiner answers, a hint of pride in his voice. “We’re best friends.” He glances at you, checking your reaction. You look down at your sneakers, wet at the soles, trying not to show the emotions rattling inside.

“That is so sweet! Well, if you’re ever interested in joining a sorority, we do informal recruitment in the fall, formal recruitment in the spring. You should stop by the house some time for dinner, maybe during the nights Reiner is hashing.”

“Hashing…?”

“Sorry! So used to speaking in sorority language! Reiner is one of our hashers. He helps serve food and wash dishes, in exchange for a paycheck, of course. His shifts are usually at dinner.”

You finally meet his eyes. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

He opens his mouth, wanting to respond. Then Christa nudges him with her elbow, giggling. “How can you not tell your best friend that you have a job?!”

He avoids your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I forgot.” The truth is more complicated to explain; you don’t blame him for that. Still, it hurts. You’re so used to knowing everything about each other. Now, he’s practically a stranger.

Christa, blissfully unaware, repeats her earlier offer. “We can walk you to your dorm! And we can talk more about Delta Delta if you’d like.” Her offer is kind, even with the ulterior motive, trying to recruit you. It’s not the sales-pitch that’s deterring you, though. It’s the idea of sharing an umbrella with them, forcing yourself to act like it’s all fine and dandy. That he didn’t break your heart a few weeks ago so that he can hang out with sorority girls like Christa, gorgeous, sweet, and sociable. It’s not her that bothers you, not at all. She has no idea the pain you’re going through. Reiner does, and it makes you angry knowing he wants to play pretend for the sake of his image.

“It’s okay, I can walk on my own from here. Greek Row is on the opposite side of campus, it doesn’t make sense for you to walk me.” You’re not going to accept the offer, no matter what. It’s better this way. You’d rather get drenched than subject yourself to this.

“C’mon, Coco. We really don’t mind,” Reiner urges.

We. It’s a simple word, no significant meaning behind it. To you, it’s devastating. It used to be you and him. Now, it’s him with somebody else. You’re the third party here. And sure, they’re probably just friends, but the insecure part of you is going insane, wondering if he’s already moved on.

More adamant, you say, “I’ll be fine. Seriously.” You give Reiner a stern look, one he recognizes instantly. He’s seen it many times before, and he knows that he should just drop it. Christa’s eyes dart between you two, picking up on the tension. “Okay, well, I hope you take up my offer for dinner. I’ll let Reiner contact you to schedule a time.” She smiles at you, waving. “It was really nice to meet you, Coco.”

Reiner makes a strangled noise in his throat, caught off guard by his special nickname for you being used by somebody other than him. You’re surprised at yourself when you let out a genuine chuckle, grinning. “It was nice meeting you too.” You’re not annoyed at her for calling you that. In fact, you’re relieved. In a way, you feel liberated from it. It no longer belongs to him.

You’re overwhelmed with emotions as soon as they leave side-by-side under his umbrella. You wait until they’re out of sight, leaning against the wall, hiding your face as the tears stream down your cheeks. Suddenly, and at the worst timing, you hear a familiar voice call out to you. Peering up, you see Eren, your RA, standing in front of you.

You meet him in passing every now and then, walking out or into his room while you’re going the opposite direction, exchanging a friendly wave or pleasant greeting. There’s always a pleasant smile on his face, as if life Is great and everything is going to be fine. This is the second time he’s witnessed you crying, two times too many at this point. You’re hot with embarrassment, being caught a blubbery mess once again.

“Hi,” you sniffle, drying your cheek with your sleeve.

“Are you okay?” He’s concerned, of course. Similar to the first time you burst into tears upon meeting him.

You take a deep, shaky breath before responding, “Yeah. I’m fine. I just…I didn’t know it was going to rain.”

It’s silent between you for a moment, Eren processing the situation before speaking. “If you’re heading back to the dorms, we can walk together.” He holds the curved handle in up, smiling. You’re grateful he doesn’t question it further, understanding there’s more behind your outburst than just a little bit of unforeseen weather.

Once outside, he opens the umbrella, revealing a blue-sky pattern over your heads. You laugh at the irony of it.

“Pretty cool, right?” he beams, holding the handle between you. “I always like to carry a bit of blue with me whenever it’s a gloomy day.”

“I love it,” you reply, returning his bright smile. “Almost makes it feel like it isn’t raining at all.” You huddle next to him, trying your best not to bump your shoulder against his. “Thank you. I would have been stranded if you didn’t come along.”

“No problem at all. Just consider this one of my responsibilities, as your RA.”

“To show off your super cool umbrella to your residents?” you joke, smirking.

He turns his head to face you, gazing at you kindly. “No. To keep you safe and protect you.”

You focus your attention on the ground, avoiding any puddles and ignoring the slight flutter in your belly. “You might be the best RA ever with that kind of mindset.”

He chuckles. “Well, I haven’t forgiven myself for making you cry the first night I met you. So I’m doing my best to make up for it.”

You cover you face with your hand, remembering that humiliating moment. “Oh god, don’t remind me. It really wasn’t you. I was in a fragile state and apparently, red velvet cupcakes were triggering at the time.”

The rain lets up a bit, reduced to a drizzle now. Eren stares in front of him, relaxing the grip on the handle. “Are you feeling better now?”

You choose your words carefully before replying, “Yeah. I think so.” It’s not a confident answer, though it’s the best you can do, without going into detail about it.

“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

The two of you walk in silence for the next few minutes, listening to the soft trickle of raindrops against the pavement. There’s something peaceful about the rain when you’re not getting absolutely drowned by it. You look up, admiring the blue-sky pattern, feeling the tiniest boost of serotonin on an otherwise dreary situation. “You’re doing a great job, by the way.”

“Huh?”

A little louder, you repeat, “I said you’re doing a great job. Being an RA and everything.” You’re unsure yourself what you mean by “everything”. He’s basically a stranger to you. However, for some reason, you’re comfortable around him.

“Oh. Thanks.” You can tell he’s surprised by your comment, which makes you smile to yourself.

Another moment of silence passes as you approach the dorms. “I’ll have to find a way to thank you for this,” you say.

“You really don’t have to.”

“If it weren’t for you, I’d either be stuck there, crying. Or back at the dorms, drenched from head to toe.” You remove the keycard from your pocket, swiping your ID at the door.

He holds it open for you, beckoning you to enter first, folding and tying his umbrella closed. “Well, if you must know, I love Pocky.”

“Pocky?” You raise your brow at him, amused.

“You know, those little stick treats, covered in chocolate.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar. I’m just surprised by your answer,” you grin, stopping in front of his room.

“Hey, I told you I have a sweet tooth, right? Just get me a box of that, and we’ll call this even.”

“Okay,” you reply. “I can do that.”

He watches you walk the rest of the way down the hall to your room. You face him, giving him one last wave before you enter, retreating inside. You set your bag down and sit at the edge of your bed, surprised at how okay you’re doing, despite running into Reiner. Maybe you really are doing better.

Soon after, your phone vibrates, notifying you of a text. When you check it, you find yourself staring at the screen, frozen in place.

Reiner: Hope you made it back to your dorm okay.

~~~

You’re doing a great job. On a shitty day like today, those five simple words give Eren the validation he needs. If he can’t be great at chemistry, it’s nice knowing he is succeeding in another way. It makes him feel good, as if he’s finally doing something right. Being appreciated for it isn’t expected, but it sure is nice.

He doesn’t see or hear from her until a few days later, when he comes back from one of his classes. Outside his room, he spots a plastic bag hanging on the doorknob, a note attached to the outside of it:

Eren, thank you for keeping me dry from the rain the other day. Consider us even now.

He smiles reading her name signed at the end of it. Peeking into the bag, he sees at least a dozen Pocky boxes scattered inside.

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