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gojocp

adult!! / she-they / ask to be moots pls / i love gojo

194 posts

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gojocp
5 months ago
Hooray

hooray

gojocp
5 months ago
Based On A Conversation With @fynn-arcana

based on a conversation with @fynn-arcana

not my drawings, my edit

gojocp
6 months ago

why is the minecraft ending poem makeing me cry this is unbelievable 🙁🙁


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gojocp
6 months ago

gege said canon gojo was incapable of normal relationships and people forreal took that as womanizng and not that he is actually so fundamentally burdened by jujutsu society and responsibility he would never ever want someone he loves to bear that with him or for him . anyway

gojocp
6 months ago
gojocp - gojocp
gojocp
6 months ago

wolf keum — heart bloom

summary : you’re one of the best students at ganghak and you live your life following a perfectly planned routine. but what happens when the scary, charismatic and notoriously famous delinquent, wolf keum starts gravitating around you?

genre : acquaintances to lovers, fluff, angst, oc is insecure, wolf is down baaaaad, the fic’s VERY long (oops)

It’s not your style to be late to school. You’re never behind on assignments and always get exceptionally good grades. You’re not loud in the hallways or at the cafeteria.

You exist in peaceful silence, only making yourself known when you need to. So you can’t help the eye roll and rush of anger when the classroom door is being yanked open in the middle of your presentation.

Wolf Keum barges inside the room, bag pack loosely hanging over his shoulder and a helmet in his hand. He doesn’t say a word, barely acknowledges the glare coming from your teacher and takes his seat at the back.

"Wolf, what an honor having you in today!" your teacher says sarcastically.

Why is he even here anyway? You don’t recall seeing Wolf coming to school that early in the morning, not that you pay attention to him ever for that matter. You just so happen to have attended the same institutions since preschool and you remember him being an adept for cutting classes almost your whole life.

Wolf doesn’t reply to your teacher and you gulp. What were you saying? Ah, that stupid boy interrupted you and now all your focus is gone. You’re not worried about your grade, you could stop speaking right now and still get an A. No, you’re worried because now you can feel the eyes of all your classmates on you.

Before any presentation in front of a full classroom, you feel like you’re going to die. You don’t know why you feel this way but you can’t seem to control the nerves, the way your stomach twists and your racing heartbeats.

You live your life in silence, surrounded by your small friend group and absolutely hate having to stand in front of a whole group to talk. You’re aware that most of them don’t even listen to you, too busy scrolling endlessly on their phones, but it still freaks you out.

"Y/N, please continue."

Now’s not the time to panick. You did manage to hold yourself together for ten minutes and forget the presence of the students in the room, you can do it again.

Eyes landing on your best friend, Myung, you relax when she gives you a playful wink.

But you miss the way Wolf’s attention lands on you when he hears the teacher speaking your name.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

The sun is long gone when your shift at the coffee shop finally ends. From where you are, behind the counter, you can see the wind blowing, shaking the tree branches strongly.

With a tired sigh, you put on your sweater and grab your bag, ready to go home and work for a few hours before calling it a day.

"See you tomorrow, Y/N !" your manager says with a smile.

"Bye Subin !"

You wonder how someone can be so energetic after working for over ten hours. Actually, you don’t remember ever seeing your manager yawning or complaining at work. Is this what it’s like to be passionate about something?

No, Subin must’ve had some bad days. You probably just weren’t there to witness it. Still, you ponder over the possibility of loving something so much that your life feels like a peaceful adventure.

The more you think about it, the more you realize your own life feels peaceful. You follow the same routine every day —not planned by the minute but almost.

But something inside of you yearns for more. Everything feels bland and monotonous.

Your heart drops in your chest when you spot a large group of men leaning against a wall on your left. It’s the same thing every time you go home after a closing shift. You follow the same route and always pray that the street you take will be filled with other people so you can walk unseen.

Before you can walk past them, a figure pops in front of you, forcing you to halt your steps.

"Hey there."

You’re screwed, you know it. The man standing in front of you is tall and scars cover his bulky arms. You can spot a few tattoos on his fingers and one on his neck, he has to be part of a group of delinquents.

Myung is obsessed with some sort of ranking, you don’t remember the name of it, but you know Wolf is in it.

However you’ve never seen the boy in front of you so you know he doesn’t go to your school. If he isn’t some dropout, of course. Not that you would judge someone for dropping out, you just don’t see the appeal in fighting and spreading fear all over the city.

"Where are you going this late?"

Wait, is he seriously trying to have a conversation? Most of the time, the men whistle, say hello and go back to their business.

Whatever, you can just pretend you didn’t hear him and walk past him. What else can you do anyway?

You step aside and start walking but the man is quick to catch up and stands in front of you, again. Your heart is racing faster than ever at this point.

"Which school do you go to?" he asks with an awkward smile.

You frown at the contrast between his stance and his looks. He looks genuinely flustered, scratching the back of his head with a tiny smile on his face.

Nonetheless, you’re not interested and don’t plan on having a chat with him.

"Please, stop bothering me."

Your voice came out softly, almost pleading and you mentally curse for appearing so weak. You would give anything to be assertive and threatening when necessary.

Voices echoing from a nearby street and coming closer cause you to look over your shoulder.

"Yeah, no, it doesn’t matter how we get the files, I need them by the end of the week."

Wolf and Hwangmo walk towards you, both of them holding a beer can as Wolf lights a cigarette. Your presence in this street, so late at night, seems to spark their interest as they stop walking and eye you suspiciously.

Wolf’s attention lands on the man blocking your way before he looks back at you. Why are you here? He’s seen you walking this way a few times in the past, he knows you work in a coffee shop but you never stay in this area.

"I go to Yoosun."

Okay, now this man doesn’t know when to drop the ball apparently. Weren’t you clear enough earlier when you asked him to leave you alone? Maybe your voice was weak but your word choices were not.

That is when knowing how to fight could be a good asset because this man deserves a good beating for disturbing your schedule and messing up with your heart rate. Except, you don’t know how to fight. What a shocker.

"Y/N."

The way Wolf called out your name sends chills down your spine and your entire body shudders when you look back at the most feared delinquent from your school.

He is blowing some smoke, carelessly giving his beer can to Hwangmo as his eyes are locked on you, "Is he bothering you?"

That is when the man realizes who is standing a few feet away from him. Suddenly, his face turns white and his eyes drop to the floor, "Uh, no, n—no."

Really? All it takes for a man to leave you alone is for another man to show up? You know Wolf is feared amongst the crowd, it isn’t that surprising considering the way he ruthlessly fights, but what would’ve happened if Wolf and Hwangmo didn’t show up?

The man steps aside in a second and this becomes your last straw, "Wait, is this a joke?"

The three men perk up at your voice and Wolf smirks as he watches you stepping closer to the man with a finger pointed towards him, "I told you to leave me be and you didn’t want to!" You point your finger towards Wolf, "Now he shows up and you obey like a little puppy?"

You can feel the way the heat has reached your cheeks and how your fingers tremble from the anger and rush of adrenaline. Suddenly, it hits you. You’re screaming at a man you don’t know, in the middle of the street, at night.

What are you doing? This isn’t you, doing things like this doesn’t feel right. What if this man decides to follow you and make you pay for the humiliation? You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.

You come to your senses and drop your hand down. Fixing the strap of your bag on your shoulder, you scratch your throat, "Whatever, just leave me alone."

Before the man can even breathe, you’re walking away, heart pounding in your chest and unaware that Wolf’s eyes followed you until your figure disappeared around the corner.

And Wolf gladly beat this guy to a pulp afterwards.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

"What?!"

The shriek coming out of Myung’s lips painfully rings in your ears and you hiss, shaking your hand to shush her down.

"Oh my god, you gotta be kidding me!" Myung exclaims, gesturing for your other friend Bongcha, "Girl, come here right now!"

You love Myung, you do. But you don’t understand why she’s freaking out like this. You were expecting her to look anxious when telling her what happened to you the night before. Instead, you spot a glimmer in her eyes and she carries that expression on her face, the one she has when she reads a good book or when her crush winks at her in the hallways.

When Bongcha stops in front of you two, Myung grabs her arm and leans forward, "Y/N’s the main character now."

Bongcha seems unimpressed and you shake your head in despair.

"We can change Wolf’s name and call him knight in shining armor."

You cringe at Myung’s words, "Please, don’t. He didn’t even do anything."

Myung shoves her phone in your face, showing you a webpage. It looks like a forum and the title says « Wolf Keum VS Yoosun prick ».

"So? He got into a fight, what a surprise."

Myung sighs, "With the guy who was harassing you last night."

Bongcha jumps in, "I don’t think he needs a reason to get into a fight."

"Thank you," you say, looking back at Myung, "You have to stop thinking everything is the beginning of a rom com."

"But I can see Wolf falling for a perfect student," Myung replies. "And you’ve known each other your whole lives!"

Myung’s face falls when neither you or Bongcha react. "Oh come on, you can’t say he doesn’t look hot too! All the girls have a crush on him!"

"Go after him if you think he is so hot."

Myung grimaces, "No, he is too popular. I wouldn’t like the lifestyle of being a leader’s girlfriend, I need my man to be a more discreet delinquent."

You chuckle at that and focus back on your notebook only for Myung to crouch down in front of you, "Y/N, don’t deny Wolf’s hot. I’m not asking you to go after him."

Now, it would be a lie to say Wolf isn’t attractive. Actually, you always thought he was rather cute and maybe, maybe, you’ve had a crush on him for a few years. But your crush dwindled with each of his fights until, eventually, he just became the personification of violence and chaos.

Your eyes meet with Myung’s, "I never said he wasn’t."

Myung squeals in excitement, saying something you can’t quite hear. But you know your best friend, you just need to let her imagine things until she starts obsessing over something else.

The rest of your day goes by smoothly until something rather strange happens during your shift at the coffee shop.

You have one hour left. No, actually, fifty eight minutes until you can finally go home, do some homework and crash in your bed.

Customers are rare at such an hour, the few that come around are here for a sweet treat after a long day at work or a shot of expresso before the beginning of their night shifts. There is a hospital right around the corner and nurses and doctors are amongst the coffee shop’s most loyal regulars after 7pm.

Today’s shift was rather calm, allowing you to work on an essay that you’d been postponing for a week.

The bell taped over the door chirps, signaling a new customer. You quickly place your notebook under the front desk and tug at the hem of your apron. Inside of your brain, you pray you don’t forget the sentence you were just about to write down for your essay.

"Hello— Oh!" Your voice cracks and the smile on your face vanishes when your eyes land on the customer.

Wolf.

He is standing right there, in front of you, still wearing his school uniform as his hands are clasped over a file holder tucked under his arm.

"Hello," he says, his eyes burning holes into your skin under his glasses.

You’ve been working in this cafĂ© for two years, it is the very first time you’ve seen Wolf in there. Is he even a coffee person? You’ve always assumed he was more of an alcohol person. Well, it didn’t help to stumble upon him and his group of friends walking in and out of bars and clubs during the weekends.

You realize you’ve been frozen in your spot way too long when his mouth stretches into a tiny smirk and you cough awkwardly, "Hm, what can I get for you?"

Wolf hums, looking up to check the menu hanging on the wall behind you. His eyes linger for a few seconds before finding yours again, "Whatever you’d like."

Wait, what? Is this some sort of joke? What does he mean by that? The awkwardness clinging onto your skin morphs into distress and you blink, your eyes unable to part from Wolf’s.

His eyes are very pretty, you think. You don’t recall ever seeing him so close before. Well, actually there was one time. But you push the memory away. His glasses have slipped over the bridge of his nose and a tiny part of you really wants to reach forward and fix them for him.

Your heart jumps to your throat, what the hell is wrong with you? Oh, you will make Myung pay for planting a seed into your brain and talking you into admitting Wolf is good looking.

Wolf is a delinquent, part of a gang who fights and bullies people for money or whatever they do. You want nothing to do with him.

"It doesn’t help," you reply coldly. "A coffee, a tea, matcha?"

Wolf searches for your eyes but they’re focused on the large screen perched up on the counter separating you both. That is because, in the midst of your inner turmoil, you recalled something Myung told you once.

She was blabbering about her forum where all the delinquents were ranked and you were only half listening. Not that you didn’t care but she had been yapping for an hour at this point and you were done.

But she said one thing that stuck with you :

"Wolf has a three second rule."

"What’s that?"

"If someone keeps eye contact with him for three seconds or more, he fights them."

You’re pretty sure you almost broke the rule the moment you noticed how pretty his eyes looked. Damn, why would he come into the coffee shop? It’s not like he even knows what he wants to drink.

"Just make me your favorite drink," Wolf finally speaks.

Theory confirmed, he doesn’t know what he wants. You’re tempted to tell him that the only customers who ask to have your favorite drink are those who come back after asking for your number but you keep your mouth shut. You really don’t want to upset the man standing in front of you.

You pick your favorite drink on the screen and look up, "Wanna eat something with it?"

Wolf blinks, lips parting slightly at your question. You spot his eyes lowering on your face for a split second before he looks back at your eyes, "No, thanks."

"Here or to go?"

"Here."

Here? What the hell, you really don’t picture Wolf staying inside a cafĂ© with a drink he didn’t even pick himself. Maybe you’re in the middle of a weird dream?

"Okay, I’ll bring your drink in a few," you say. "Come back to pay only if you liked it."

Wolf smirks wider this time and you internally curse. He is just going to pretend he hated the drink and you’ll have to pay for it. What a great news, you being forced to pay for a drink you won’t even get to enjoy.

You’re such a shrunken mess when you start preparing your favorite drink —a dirty chai latte, that you barely pretend to like your job when a few other customers come in to buy something on the go. You should have just made Wolf pay like you would do with every other customer hitting you with the very famous and unoriginal “make me your favorite drink”.

You barely glance at Wolf when you place the fuming cup in front of him, "There."

Some papers are splattered all over the table but you avert your attention quickly, definitely not interested in whatever Wolf does in his free time.

Instead, you go back behind the counter and pull out your notebook. You have an essay to write and it is definitely more important than to watch Wolf’s reaction to the drink.

Your essay is definitely more important. Then, why do you find yourself glancing at the purple haired boy sitting near a window as he slowly raises the cup towards his lips, leaning forward to smell.

You can sense hesitation in his demeanor, the way he waits a few seconds before taking the first sip. Damn it, why is your heart beating a little faster? Who cares if he doesn’t like the drink, you’ll pay for it and call it a day. You don’t even like the guy, actually, he is everything you hate.

You notice the way he blinks, his lips barely parting as if he just needed to take a larger breath. Fuck, why are you still looking at him? Might as well just put the money in the cash holder right now so you don’t forget before the end of your shift.

Wolf takes a bigger sip and releases a long breath before closing his eyes. That is when you tear your gaze away and try your best to focus on your essay. But you have to admit you completely forgot the sentence you wanted to write before Wolf walked in.

You’re minutes away from calling it a day and going home when Wolf pops up in front of you. He slides a bill on the counter, "For the drink."

Wait, he liked it? No, wait, he liked it and actually paid for it? You know that if you did that with someone else —anyone, they would jump on the opportunity to get a free drink. Even you would be tempted.

You blink and tear your gaze away from his eyes. You can’t forget the three second rule. But you wonder, would he fight a woman? He must’ve had pretty girls staring and throwing themselves at him, right?

Pretty girls
 you almost laugh at yourself for putting yourself in this category. You don’t consider yourself bad looking but you don’t really see yourself shining amongst the crowd.

Oh god, can you just stop overthinking? What is wrong with you today? What if Wolf has girls throwing themselves at him day and night? He is a bad person and your crush on him was wiped off years ago, he can do whatever he wants.

"Thank you," you simply say.

You jump up in surprise when Subin walks out of his office, "Thank you for today, Y/N! Get home safe, I’ll see you next week!"

You can only nod, the words stuck in your throat as you were so focused on your thoughts you didn’t notice your manager’s presence until the last second.

These past two days were definitely too much for your heart to handle. You wonder if you forced these little unexpected things to happen when you thought about how bland your life could be sometimes.

Home. You have to get home. You have to stop thinking about Wolf, about Myung’s words, about everything that happened recently. There is no time for that on your agenda.

But you walk out of the coffee shop to see Wolf leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging between his lips. What is he waiting for?

Whatever, this is none of your business.

Except Wolf starts walking a few feet behind you. Your heart is racing and your mind is running wild. Shit, maybe you broke the three second rule and he is waiting for the perfect opportunity to throw you in a dark alley and beat the hell out of you.

Should you just run? No, you already know he is faster than you. Definitely because you aren’t very athletic. Maybe you should call Myung? Yeah, to tell her what? That Wolf came to your workplace, asked for your favorite drink and actually paid for it even though he was offered the opportunity to get it for free on a silver plater? Definitely not. You can already hear her yelling at you to turn around and ask him “what are we”.

You love your best friend but her obsession with romance can really blur her thinking abilities.

Before you know it, you reached the place where the Yoosun kid bothered you last night. And the said person is actually there, leaning against a wall with a very bruised face. You open your eyes wide at his injuries, did Wolf really beat him that hard?

Because last time you checked, Wolf had his usual bandages on his face but his skin remained perfectly untouched.

Another boy is standing next to the injured boy. Now, you’ve seen him before. He doesn’t go to your school but you’re sure Myung showed you a picture of him because he is definitely her type.

"Wolf," the boy states as he gets off of the wall.

"Jimmy."

Jimmy? Yeah, you definitely heard that name before. Oh damn, Myung is going to kill you if she finds out you were in the middle of another fight between two delinquents.

"You beat one of my boys."

Okay, so Jimmy goes to Yoosun. Maybe it’s time for you to pay more attention to the things Myung talks about.

You hear a snicker coming out of Wolf’s throat, "He didn’t tell you what he did last night?" He stops for a few seconds, "What? Are you gonna stay quiet, you little shit?"

Wolf definitely didn’t fight this guy because he was harassing you last night. Something else must’ve happened after you left.

The words coming out of Wolf’s mouth make you stop dead in your tracks, "Harassing her."

You shouldn’t turn around. It’s best for you to ignore what you just heard. Wolf used that as an excuse when you know he just wanted to get into a fight. This has absolutely nothing to do with you.

"Wait, is she your girlfriend?" Jimmy asks with curiosity.

"Yeah."

Now, you’re forced to spin on your heels to face the boy who just called you his girlfriend. Wolf’s eyes are already set on you, boring into yours as if to assess your reaction. But you’re just frozen on the ground, unable to process what just happened.

Fuck the three second rule, your eyes are locked on each other for much longer and he can come find you afterwards to fight you, you’ll find a way to hit him harder than any of his other opponents. What the hell is wrong with him?

The last interaction you’ve had with Wolf must’ve happened last year when he accidentally knocked you over when he was too busy chasing someone down the school halls. He did send you an apologetic look that day and it had been enough for you to move on with your day.

Today, even an apology wouldn’t be enough.

Jimmy grunts and lightly slaps the injured boy next to him, "Dude, not the girlfriends, you fucking idiot!"

Not the girlfriends? So, it’s okay to harass single women? You want to throw up at this point, men are such a lost cause.

"Apologize and we’re even," Wolf orders.

This is definitely a dream. You’re going to wake up in a few seconds and blame your brain for coming up with such an awful scenario, like seriously, couldn’t you just have a regular dream?

But the bruised boy sheepishly comes forward, stopping in front of you with his hands tied behind his back and his head dropped in shame, "I’m sorry."

You can’t help the grimace on your face, missing the way Wolf gloats watching the scene.

But what happens next is even worse. Wolf takes a few steps forward, closing the gap between you both and fixes the strap of your bag on your shoulder, "I have some stuff to deal with Jimmy, I’ll see you tomorrow."

Is your heart beating so fast you can feel it pulsing all over your body? Is this the beginning of a cardiac arrest? Because you find it hard to breathe, to think, to move. Why aren’t you repulsed by Wolf’s presence right next to you? Why did his fingers grazing over your shoulder feel so
 warm?

No, you can’t let your imagination take over. You won’t let your brain fall into the realm of potential attraction and romantic possibilities. Wolf is a bad person, only using you as an excuse to explain his cruel ways.

If you recall correctly, Wolf is part of the largest gang in the city. And you’re pretty sure Yoosun students are a part of it as well. He only used you as an excuse to stay on good terms with Jimmy. For all you know, Jimmy is Yoosun’s top delinquent.

You’ll have to ask Myung tomorrow.

But Wolf’s eyes are still on you and, suddenly, you feel infinitely small. The heat that reached your body is burning your skin and tightening your throat.

You barely take a step back, nodding before you’re turning around and walking away with white dots covering your eyes.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

You didn’t find it within yourself to tell Myung what happened with Wolf. It was almost two weeks ago and, ever since, Wolf came in the coffee shop three more times.

Always one hour before the end of your shift, always ordering a dirty chai latte, always drinking it sitting at the same table, always waiting outside with a cigarette between his lips, always walking a few feet behind you until you would reach this one street —the one where you were bothered by the Yoosun kid, only then he would stop following you.

Tonight is no exception.

Wolf is right there, smoking a cigarette as you get out of the coffee shop and start your walk home.

You really want to tell him that he is acting like a creep, no, an actual psychopath. You don’t understand how his brain works to make it seem acceptable to follow someone around without ever opening his mouth.

He only speaks to you when he orders his drink, what’s the point of sticking around afterwards? It’s not like men bother you at every corner, you don’t need protection. Even though, you know Wolf doesn’t care about that.

You’re about to reach the street where he usually stops following you when you finally turn around, forcing Wolf to stop walking. His eyebrows raise in surprise and you cross your arms over your chest, "What’s wrong with you? Uh?"

A silence lingers between you both, broken by honks and the laughter of people passing by.

"Why’re you following me around?" you ask strongly.

Wolf shrugs, "I’m not. We just have the same route."

"Lies," you spit. "What do you want?"

The amused smile on Wolf’s features grows as he watches you fuming in annoyance. He thinks the frown on your face is pretty adorable, just like he likes the way you rapidly stomp your left foot on the ground.

But he is the one frowning now when he notices you never look at his eyes for longer than a couple of seconds, "Do I scare you?"

You grimace, responding too quickly for your own liking, "No!"

"Then, why do you look everywhere but in my direction?" Wolf asks, genuinely curious. "Mmh, or maybe I’m not good looking enough for you."

What is wrong with this guy? You never asked to have him following you around like a stalker. You can’t seem to understand what brings him into your workplace when he skips classes almost every day. Wouldn’t it be more interesting for him to go to the bar with his friends?

Wolf doesn’t know why he started counting. The way your eyes bore into his does something to him he isn’t familiar with. One, but he wants more. Two, it’s not like you’re unpleasant to look at. Quite the opposite, actually.

Before he can count to three, your eyes leave his face. And the realization hits him like a truck. A light chuckle escapes his lips, "The three seconds don’t apply to you."

You huff in annoyance, glaring at him once more, "Oh yeah? And why’s that? Because the fight would be too boring?"

You don’t even know why you just said that. What did he mean? Is he messing with you? Well, yes, of course, you can’t think of any logical reason to explain his behavior towards you.

"You’re too pretty to fight with."

Your heart clenches in your chest and your stomach twists so hard you wonder if you’re not just about to be sick. No, you shouldn’t let his words win you over, he is definitely messing with you. There is absolutely no way Wolf thinks you’re
 pretty.

Fuck, why did such a delinquent have to look so pretty that you can feel your heart drumming in your ears and a blush warming your cheeks. No, no, no, just turn around and go home. He can look as handsome as humanly possible, he is still dangerous.

"Nice one, I wonder how many girls fell for it," you seethe.

Next thing you know, you’re walking away without looking back.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

"Please, Y/N! Please, please, please," Myung whines. "I am begging you! Just this once, I swear!"

Myung is quite literally begging you, on her knees with her hands clasped together abover her head. Apparently, she befriended a girl from Yoosun during her ceramics class and now she wants you and Bongcha to go to this party.

And you were right about Jimmy being Myung’s type because you perfectly recall the stars in her eyes when she mentioned he would be there. She shrugged it off like it was just a detail but she can’t fool you.

"Why do you need me there?" you grunt. "Bongcha said she’d go."

"I don’t need you, I want you to come," Myung corrects. "You need to let loose, you’re always studying or working."

It’s not that you hate parties, they’re okay. Sometimes. You just feel uncomfortable going to a party where you don’t know anyone. Well, besides your friends. And a part of you fears you’d stumble into Jimmy and that he would recognize you. What if he says something? Myung would definitely kill you.

"Please
"

You sigh, knowing Myung isn’t actually giving you a chance to refuse. You have to come clean and tell her everything. You don’t even know how you kept all of this to yourself for so long.

"Okay—" you barely said the word that Myung is jumping up and down with a loud shriek. You grab her arm, "Stop, stop. Please sit down and listen to me."

Myung complies, sitting on the edge of your bed with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. You give her two minutes before her smile disappears and turns into a glare with what you’re about to tell her.

"Okay so I have some things to tell you," you start. "Please, don’t interrupt me and
 don’t kill me."

When you live your house to go to the party, Myung is still yapping about what you told her. Luckily for you, she didn’t get mad. You think it’s because you provided her with the most unexpected rom com scenario but you’re not so sure about it.

"He is so into you!" Myung squeals, "This is even better than in the movies!"

"No, he is not, he’s just messing with me because he thinks it’s funny."

Myung and Bongcha share a knowing look, "You’re definitely not people smart, Y/N."

"Wait, do you really think someone like Wolf would be into me? You sound ridiculous."

"Actually, I have to agree with Myung right now," Bongcha joins in. "Just take a second to think about it. First, he gets into a fight with the Yoosun guy after he caught him messing with you."

"You agreed with me when we said he didn’t need any excuse to get into fights!" you fume.

Bongcha nods, "Yeah, but that was before he started coming into the coffee shop and calling you his girlfriend!"

Bongcha has a point but you don’t recall Wolf ever being into a relationship before. Well, you assume it’s happened because of all the girls who have a crush on him. But you don’t see why he would be into you. You out of all people.

You’re
 normal. Definitely above average when it comes to school but you know that’s not something boys are interested in. They want the prettiest girl. And you don’t see Wolf being into someone like you. Because he is definitely out of your league.

Myung lets out a loud shriek and Bongcha’s lips crack into a playful smile.

Shit, did you just say that out loud? What the hell is wrong with you? Okay, Wolf might be very nice to look at but this quality can’t erase all his flaws. He is bad news and you don’t need that type of energy around you.

"I knew you had a crush!" Myung cheers, joyfully jumping up and down on the curb. "I remember how you freaked out when you were paired with him on that science project, I knew it, I knew it!"

You groan, "That was years ago, can you just drop it."

"Never!" Myung retorts, "How could I ever when I know you have a crush!"

You feel like you could dig a hole in the ground and bury yourself in it. Why are you so weak that just a few interactions with Wolf were enough to throw you back in time and revive the crush you had on him years ago? Are you really that weak? That desperate for any romantic trope?

Maybe you just need to look at another guy, any guy (as long as he’s not a delinquent), and your supposedly crush on Wolf will vanish quicker than it ever reappeared.

A light slap to the back of your head brings you out of your thoughts with a bang, "Ow! What was that for?!"

Bongcha doesn’t look sorry for the hit, "For saying he’s out of your league."

"Yeah!" Myung growls. "You’re gorgeous!"

You hum half-heartedly, deciding it’s best for you to stop fighting them. They’re your best friends, of course they will cheer you up and praise you. But does it really matter when you know Wolf is only messing with you because he must find it fun for the time being?

It’s only a matter of time before Wolf grows bored of this little game and goes back to ignoring your existence altogether.

The house is packed when you walk in with Bongcha and Myung. Music is loudly blasting and you’re quite sure you can see the walls vibrating because of the volume. People are screaming, singing and dancing in every corner, you can already feel your incoming migraine.

Why did you agree to come in the first place? Oh yeah, because your best friend can’t take no for an answer.

You don’t even ask Myung the content of the plastic cup she forcefully puts in your hands. One sip and you know it’s beer. You’re not really a fan but it’s better than the spiked punch sitting in a giant bowl in the kitchen.

Minutes pass by and you’ve already hit your socializing quota. You aren’t one for partying endlessly, even less for making small talk with people you won’t ever see again.

Myung is too busy looking for a certain orange haired boy and Bongcha is nailing a beer pong game as you feel your phone buzzing in your hand.

It’s an instagram notification.

You can feel all the color draining out of your face when you open the app.

KSJ liked your post.

You know that account. Wolf’s. It’s no secret that Wolf follows you on your socials. He’s been following you for a few years now.

But you never thought much of it since it was originally to keep in touch when you were paired together for school work. News flash, you always did all the work.

Now, you don’t post often on instagram and barely pay attention to the people who like your content. Last time you posted something was three days ago, how come he only likes it now?

You don’t want to let your brain imagine it’s because he stalked your account. First, because that’s just weird. Second, because he doesn’t have a crush on you. Plain and simple.

The only logical explanation is that he didn’t use instagram for three days and only saw your last post now. Still, it feels weird that he would go and like it. But before you can go deeper in your thoughts, a loud cheer makes you look up.

Jimmy is standing a few feet away, a finger pointed at you, "Hey! That’s Wolf’s girl!"

Wolf’s girl
 You never expected to be called like that in your life. But you can’t ignore the way your heart skips a beat, well, you can only admit the defeat against yourself. Maybe your crush for Wolf never really left.

Fuck, you can’t let it settle in your heart. Double fuck, people you don’t even know think you two are dating.

You force a tiny smile, "Hi."

"That fucker couldn’t even come around by himself, he had to send his girlfriend," Jimmy chortles, causing a few of his friends to laugh. "I can’t fucking believe him."

He couldn’t come around by himself? What the hell is he talking about?

Jimmy pulls out his phone, quickly typing on his screen before his eyes flicker toward you, "You know I could take your boyfriend down any day, uh?"

The confusion turns into a frown. What does that have to do with you? And why should you care? Also, does Jimmy really think it’s impressive to flaunt his fighting skills? It makes him look ridiculous.

Jimmy’s phone is on speakers and you can hear a ringtone. Is he calling Wolf? And where are Myung and Bongcha when you need them? Coming here was a bad idea, you’ll make sure to remind Myung next time she tries to drag you to a random party.

Wait, wait. Did Jimmy say he could take Wolf down? Okay, you have to confess now. Maybe, maybe, you checked Myung’s forum one night when you couldn’t sleep.

Wolf’s voice echoes through the speaker right when you remember an information that invalidates Jimmy’s certitude, "What the fuck do you want, Jimmy?"

"Last time I checked, Wolf was ranked higher in the Shuttle Patch," you say calmly before you shrug. "Well, except if the ranking changed overnight."

Jimmy’s friends gasp, some of them laughing so hard they fold in half.

Jimmy, on the other hand, sends you a death glare. Chills run down your spine but what can you say? The informations you read seemed accurate and it looks like this guy needs to be put in his place. You can’t fight him with your fists but a few facts can definitely do the job.

Jimmy’s lips tremble before he focuses his attention on his phone, "Your girl’s pissing me off. I don’t know what you’re trying to do man but you better fix your shit before I send her back to you with a broken leg."

Well, you’re screwed. Oh how fun is it to be involved with gang members. You really want to kill Myung for dragging you here but you want to kill Wolf even more for pretending you’re dating. What was he thinking? If you ever wondered if he was smart before, you definitely have your answer.

He has to be the most stupid person on this planet and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t care one bit that Jimmy wants to see you get out of this house with a crushed bone. And why did you even open your mouth? Couldn’t you just do what you always did, stay quiet? No, you had to provoke him as if you didn’t stand on an enemy’s land.

Well, technically, Yoosun and Ganghak work together but you know they aren’t exactly friends.

"Got more things to say, smart mouth?" Jimmy taunts as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

Fuck, you are so screwed. There is no way you’ll talk your way out of this. You’re facing Jimmy and all of his friends, your own friends completely out of reach. Where the hell are they?

"Oh my god, girl, I love your dress," a familiar voice cooes. "Ugh, where did you get it? I’m obsessed!"

Myung grabs your arm, eyeing you up and down as if she didn’t help you pick your outfit two hours ago. But you quickly connect the dots. She is literally saving you from the situation you’re in. Did she hear everything Jimmy just said?

Myung turns to look at the boys and bats her lashes, "Sorry boys, gotta steal her for a bit. Girl talk!"

Before Jimmy can say anything, Myung drags you down the hall and locks you both in the bathroom. She turns around with a shocked look, "What the fuck was that?"

You’re a shivering mess, "I don’t fucking know! Fuck, he said he wanted to break—"

"Your leg! I know I heard!" Myung interrupts, "What a fucking asshole!"

"I need to get out of here!"

You really don’t want a party to turn into a visit to the hospital. Oh, you’ll make Myung and Wolf pay for this so hard. But that’s not your priority right now.

Myung stops pacing and turns to look at you, "The window."

"What?"

Myung opens the bathroom window, "Get out through the window."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious," Myung says. "Get out, I’ll distract them."

Do you even have another option right now? Because walking out of the bathroom means risking another encounter with Jimmy. Still, climbing out of a house through a window? Isn’t this thing only happening in badly written movies?

Is there even a movie where characters escape a place through a window?

"Holy shit!" Myung sputters, shaking her phone in front of your face. "Wolf is here!"

It’s a text from Bongcha asking where you both are, that Wolf just showed up and is looking pissed.

Wolf is here? What is going on? The dream is lasting too long for your own liking. Who’s even in charge of the script because you need to have a little chat with them.

"Y/N!"

Myung yelps and your heart drops as soon as you recognize Wolf’s voice loudly echoing in the house. Can someone actually scream that loud?

Myung forcefully shoves you towards the door, expression torn between fear and excitement. You know she lives for the plot and you’re definitely providing her with a great show, "He’s so into you, girl! Ugh, just go!"

Your fingers slightly shake when they wrap around the doorknob. Wolf is standing in the middle of the living room, a hand latched on Jimmy’s shirt, eyes scanning the whole place. When they land on you, you feel smaller than ever before.

Wolf eyes you up and down, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than usual before he looks back at Jimmy, "Touch her and I kill you."

That’s the perfect opportunity to leave this place. So you take it. Walking past the crowd, you easily escape the house with your heart drumming in your ears and the cold wind clinging to your skin.

"Hey, Y/N!" Wolf yells as he runs out of the house right after you.

He actually showed up after Jimmy threatened you. Why? Do you really want to know?

"No thank you?" Wolf laughs.

You turn around with a glare, "No, I’m not thanking you! You created this, it’s your fault."

"Oh yeah? But I’m not the one who decided to go to a Yoosun party, am I?"

You want to rip that smirk off his face, take his glasses off and break them in half. You’d even dare kicking him between the legs.

"Should I remind you you’re the one who said we were dating?" you spit back. "It’s not funny messing with people like that! Maybe you’re bored with your life but find someone else to do that with, okay?"

Wolf’s smile vanishes, "I don’t plan on finding someone else."

"Why?!" you grunt annoyingly, "Any girl would gladly pretend to be your girlfriend. Seriously, Wolf."

"But I’m into you."

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Wolf just said this so casually, as if he was talking about the weather. His gaze is unwavering, stuck on your face and he barely blinks.

He huffs at your lack of reaction, "Come on now, don’t act so shocked. It’s pretty old news."

"Old news?" you repeat with a grimace. "You’re unbelievable, what the fuck’s wrong with you."

Wolf shrugs, "You can ask around, I’ve liked you for a while. Whatever, you can reject me, it won’t change a thing."

Wolf likes you. Is this real life? Absolutely not. You don’t even understand why Wolf would like you out of all people. You were never even friends? How can you like someone you don’t even know?

"This isn’t funny, Wolf," you mutter.

"Oat milk latte is your second favorite drink, you like french poetry and did competitive fencing up until last year," Wolf spills out. "I know because I attended one of your competitions and you beat one of my old friends. We were still kids at the time."

What the actual hell? How can he know all of that?

"You should get back into it, you were really good," Wolf points out. "You want to open an animal shelter when you’re older and become a therapist."

Holy shit, what is happening? There is actually no way Wolf just made this up and was right on absolutely everything. How could he have found out all of this about you anyways? It’s not like you spill your life on social media, rather the opposite.

"What the fuck?" you blurt.

"Believe me now?" Wolf asks calmly as he walks towards his bike. He lights a cigarette, throwing you a look. "Need a ride home, I guess?"

You can’t process what’s happening. Wolf likes you. Wolf has liked you for a long time. How long? Were there signs? Are you actually dreaming?

If this is a dream, you don’t know if you want to wake up yet. Because going back to your regular, bland life will be painful. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the butterflies in your stomach and your heart racing in your chest.

Wolf chuckles, stretching his arm to give you a helmet, "You’re cute."

You don’t even think before putting the helmet on your head and sitting behind Wolf on his bike.

Little do you know Wolf’s heart is racing incredibly fast when you place your hands on his waist, he can’t fucking believe he just confessed after picking you up at a Yoosun party. It definitely wasn’t part of his original plan to win you over.

When Wolf drops you off in front of your apartment complex, the migraine that was threatening to settle in your skull because of the party vanished to be replaced by a plethora of questions.

Wolf slides forward on his seat, allowing you to get off the bike. He can’t ignore the way his heart skips a beat when he notices your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair when you give him his helmet.

"For how long?" you ask without thinking.

He cocks his head to the side in confusion, "What?"

You cough awkwardly, "For how long did you
 like me?"

Wolf smiles, letting out a tiny laugh. You’ve never heard him laugh like this before. It sounds too nice in your ears.

"That’s a question for another time," Wolf replies as he puts the helmet on his head. "Good night, Y/N."

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

Something weird is going on inside the halls of Ganghak. You literally just set one foot inside the school that everybody stopped what they were doing to look at you.

Whispers echo and travel around you, sizzling in your ears. Girls stare at you with daggers in their eyes and the boys look away in shame whenever you make eye contact with them.

Your phones buzzes in your hand. It’s a text from Myung.

myung 👑

girlllll everybody knows what happened this weekend at the party!!!!

they all think you and wolf are dating đŸ„čđŸ˜đŸ§ŽđŸ»â€â™€ïž

also wolf dropped something on your desk im fucking SCREAMING

WHERE TF ARE U ITS GONNA GET COLD

It’s going to get cold? What is she talking about? You ignore the insisting stares as you walk further into the school, now understanding better why you suddenly seem to have become the school’s main character.

But, once again, the whole classroom turns around when you walk inside the room.

You have to contain an eye roll when you spot Myung’s ecstatic expression plastered on her face as she points a finger at your desk.

There is a cup on your desk with Wolf’s name scribbled on it. You don’t need more clues to figure out he must have stopped by a coffee shop and ordered you a coffee. Your heart can’t take it anymore. You’re not made to handle so many things happening, especially when they aren’t part of your usual routine.

Everything feels confusing as you sit down, removing the lid of the cup to take a look at the beverage. The smell hits you instantly. A dirty chai latte.

You wonder if your heartbeats will ever slow down at some point or if you’ll be stuck in this half-panicked, half-overwhelmed state for the rest of your life. Were you feeling all of these emotions the last time you crushed on someone?

Wait, who was your last real crush? Oh yeah, a transfer student who ended up being a total dickhead.

But you know by the way your heart races and your stomach twists that this crush on Wolf feels stronger. You know you’re screwed. He didn’t even need to try so hard for you to fall right back in the trap.

And you know he is bad news. He constantly skips school (but always manages to get good grades), ruthlessly fights with whoever dares to provoke him and takes part in illegal activities.

But all it takes is for him to confess he likes you and buys you your favorite drink and now you’re head over heels for him? Honestly, you’re cringing at yourself. It’s like, in the blink of an eye, you became the very unlikeable main character of a romantic movie who’s so blinded by her own feelings she ignores all the red flags.

Also, another part of you still has a hard time believing everything that’s happening. You’re aware this isn’t a dream, you’ve made peace that your life just took a strange turn in just a few days. But is Wolf really serious? Sometimes, you wonder if he’ll just look at you one day and laugh until his sides hurt, tears start spilling from his eyes before confessing all of this was just a prank.

Still, with everything he told you last time, you feel like he wouldn’t put so much effort into a prank. But is Wolf capable of loving someone else? He seems so full of
 anger and pain. And do you want to let someone like him into your life? Is it really worth it?

All your questions melt into a puddle when you spot Wolf on his bike when you make it to the coffee shop after school.

He isn’t wearing the school uniform, instead a pair of loose black slacks and a black tee shirt. The outfit is simple but it looks way too good on him.

"Hi," you breathe out, readjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

"Hi," he replies. "I’m taking you out for a bite after your shift. I’ll pick you up."

As in a date? Tonight? You’re about to burst on the curb, your heart can’t keep up with everything that’s happening.

"Uh
 yeah, okay."

If anyone else would have offered you a date on the spot on a school night, you would’ve said no in a heartbeat. Wolf didn’t offer, more so imposed it and you agreed in the blink of an eye. Did he cast a spell for you to be so weak?

Wolf flashes you a quick smile and turns on the engine on his bike, "Okay, wait for me here!"

You are so starstruck you barely remember your shift. You just know Myung and Bongcha want a detailed story time once you’re home and that Subin asked if the purple haired boy was your boyfriend.

The idea of dating Wolf still seems very strange to you. You can’t deny the crush you have but you know nothing about him.

All you know is that he loves to skip school, loves to fight (and is apparently very good at it) and is part of a gang called the Union. But everybody knows that.

What can you even ask him? You feel like the real things you’re interested in are going to be touchy subjects. What if he storms off or loses control? What if you have nothing to talk about and the silence is awkward?

When you walk out of the coffee shop, you’re a nervous mess with a racing heart and sweaty palms. Wolf had asked you to wait for him but he is already there, smoking a cigarette that he throws on the ground the moment his eyes land on you. He wipes his hands on his thighs and quickly grabs his helmet, handing it to you.

"I hope your shift wasn’t too boring without me around," he says playfully.

You raise an eyebrow, "Don’t get too cocky, Wolf."

"I know you like having me there."

"All you do is sit down and drink in silence," you retort as you put on the helmet. "For all I know you come over just to force me to make a drink I can’t have when you know it’s my favorite."

Wolf’s grin gets bigger on his face, "Wasn’t the one I brought you this morning good enough for you?"

Touché. It was a really good drink, even more so because it was unexpected and
 free of charge. You have the habit of making yourself a drink during your shifts but knowing someone else paid it for you gave it an even better taste.

And your heart tingles at the simple thought of Wolf going into a coffee shop to buy you your favorite drink and dropping it by your desk before leaving the school altogether.

No, you have to stay focused. You glare at the boy sitting on the bike, "You’re not winning me over with free drinks."

"Wait, Y/N, please remind me," Wolf pretends to think, scratching his head. "Who agreed to go on a date with me?"

He knows what he’s doing. Oh, he knows. Because your heart speeds (yes, again) and you can feel your cheeks warming up.

You slap his arm, making him chuckle, and you step back, "I could go home right now."

Wolf reacts quickly, leaning forward to grab a hold of your wrist. His hand feels soft on your skin, "No, no."

But you know you aren’t going home. Your heart is skipping beat after beat with the way you can bicker together so playfully when, a month ago, you would make it your mission to ignore his presence at school.

Does it mean Wolf’s attention was on you all this time and you never once noticed?

The restaurant he picked is on the fancier end. Not extra fancy but it’s not a place you would consider if you wanted to go out for a bite with your friends. Or maybe to celebrate a birthday.

You look up at Wolf with wide eyes after checking the prices on the menu, "Wait, but you’re like rich rich!"

Wolf notices the slight embarrassment on your face and, even if he knew you were a perfect match for him a long time ago (he just needs you to realize it), it makes him like you even more.

Wolf isn’t a fan of dating. He dabbled into it a little bit and was always, always, turned off by the girls who easily assumed he would pay for the fanciest dates. He doesn’t mind spending money on him and others. He does it all the time. He knows he won’t take cash with him in the grave.

But he doesn’t want to date someone who only dreams of a luxurious lifestyle.

You let out a sigh as you check the prices once more, "Fuck, but I can’t pay for that."

Only you were meant to hear that. But your muffled whisper still reached Wolf’s ears, "You’re not paying. I am."

"I can’t let you pay for everything!" you let out in a high pitched voice.

"I asked you out, I pay."

You tilt your head to the side, "That’s very old school mentality."

Wolf shrugs, "I don’t care."

"Whatever, next time, I’m the one paying," you say confidently. But your confidence dwindles immediately and you gulp, "But I can’t afford to come to this type of place."

Wolf is smirking now, gaze locked on you, unwavering as he keeps his mouth shut. Fuck, why is he looking at you like that? What can you say, you work part time in a coffee shop, of course you can’t compete with a boy who’s involved in illegal activities.

"W—What?"

"So, there’s gonna be a next time, uh?"

You roll your eyes, covering your face with both hands, "Shut up."

He chuckles, "I’m very okay with the idea."

To your surprise, dinner went by so smoothly you both talked endlessly, never giving enough time for silence to settle in. And when you would both savor your food, the dreaded silence was actually
 very pleasant.

You caught Wolf’s eyes on you way too many times to count and when you thought he would tear his gaze away in embarrassment, he would just stare at you with the ghost of a smile growing on his lips the more the blush would spread on your cheeks.

Now you’re both standing outside the restaurant, Wolf leaning against his bike as you eye him with a smile you can no longer contain.

"Thank you, Wolf," you say. "I had a great time."

He lets out a relaxed breath when he hears your voice, a smile creeping up on his face, "Me too."

Your attention lands on the couple standing a few feet away, as a child is looking at you with wide eyes. When you look at the little boy, he breaks into a big smile. You can’t help but smile back, waving your hand at him, "Hi there!"

The little boy shakes his hand before covering his face with the other one, smiling even wider. You could just melt right there and then.

The mother seems to notice and looks at you with an apologetic expression, "Oh, I’m sorry, he does that with some girls." She crouches down and rubs his hair, "Okay, honey, let’s go home!"

But the child can’t tear his gaze away from you, waving his hands and shooting you warm smiles. Wolf looks at him and shakes his head knowingly, "Ah, she’s pretty, uh?"

The boy shyly nods, both intimidated and hypnotized by Wolf’s purple hair and deep gaze. Wolf laughs at the child, "I know, I know. But I can’t let you steal her away from me."

You, on the other hand, are on the verge of fainting. This simple interaction between Wolf and a little boy is enough to throw all dignity to the ground and kiss your date right there and then.

But you simply sit down behind him on his bike and try your hardest to slow your heart down when he drives you home.

And, even if a part of you wishes you would have kissed Wolf tonight, you appreciate even more that Wolf didn’t try to kiss you when you parted ways in front of your apartment complex.

You have just enough time to take a shower and slip under your bedsheets that you receive a notification on your phone.

KSJ dmed you.

You open the app with butterflies in your chest and trembling fingertips.

KSJ

so you said you were paying next time

when and where?

Does he like you so much that he barely gets home from the first date and immediately wants to plan the second one?

Isn’t all of this just a very long dream? You can’t even hate yourself anymore for wanting all of this to be your reality. You can’t hate yourself for falling right back into your old crush.

Y/N

eager much?

next friday i’ll send you the place

Wolf answers almost instantly.

KSJ

don’t forget to forget your wallet

The laughter that escapes your throat is loud and your hand flies to your mouth, praying you didn’t awake your parents.

The instant fear is immediately forgotten, replaced by a stupid grin on your face.

Honestly, you’re pretty sure you fell asleep smiling like an idiot.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

You’ve been smiling like an idiot during the whole week, actually. It’s like you’ve been transported above the clouds and get to experience the most amazing dream in your real life.

It’s like you can almost touch the stars with your feet still planted on the ground.

You’ve been texting Wolf almost every day this week, talking about anything and everything. Some mornings, he even stopped by your place to drive you to school.

If people weren’t whispering loud enough in the hallways, now that was all you could hear.

KSJ

tried this coffee place this morning

* picture attached *

gross

never go there

You catch yourself letting out a slight giggle inside the school’s bathroom stall. Something inside of you yearns for casual messages like these. You never thought Wolf could be like this. And if you weren’t hooked before, you definitely are now.

Y/N

rookie mistake

lamest place in seoul

i hope you threatened the boss for a refund

KSJ

ayyyy y/n!

so you want me to fight?

didn’t know you liked that about me

Y/N

🙄🙄🙄🙄

pls dont fight over a coffee

KSJ

okay princess

btw can we say 8.30 tonight?

i have something to do before and idk if i’ll be out on time to be there at 8

You ignore the way your heart jumps in your throat at the nickname. Wolf will be the death of you.

Y/N

yeah 8.30 is all good

KSJ

perfect !

see you tonight

You’ll never say this to anyone (or maybe Myung if she really insists) but you’ve planned your outfit for tonight
 three days ago. With each passing day, you realize you’re really living the life of the main character in any romantic comedy.

You fall asleep thinking about Wolf, sometimes he pops up in your dreams and you wake up just before you two can share a kiss, you wake up all giddy and excited for the day even if you don’t see him. You feel more energetic at school and work, yet, you don’t remember anything except the texts exchanged with Wolf and the butterflies in your stomach when he visits you at work or drops a cup of coffee on your school desk.

Tonight can’t come soon enough but your happiness takes a sour taste in your mouth when you hear the voices of some girls in the school’s bathroom.

"I’m sure Wolf’s just messing with Y/N," a first girl says firmly.

A few girls giggle before a new voice speaks, "Right?! Like, she’s so plain."

"Not even the prettiest girl in the school."

"You meant in her class, uh?"

The laughters that fill the room come piercing through your heart like a knife. You know they are just being extremely jealous. You know you aren’t the prettiest girl in the school, not even in your class. You know that.

But you just started believing that Wolf really likes you for more than your looks. You wanted to trust you could be more than all of that.

"It has to be for a bet or something," another girl speaks. "He’ll throw her away when he’s bored."

"Yeah, next week!"

Finally, the girls exit the bathroom in a choir of laughter and you release the pained breath you’ve been holding in for a few minutes.

You can’t let them get into your head. They’re jealous, they’re jealous, they’re jealous. Wolf likes you. He said it multiple times. He texts you. Not them. He thinks you’re pretty. Tonight, he is going on a date with you. He showed up to a Yoosun party for you. Not them.

You spend the whole day reminding yourself of all the things Wolf did and said, pushing away all the negative thoughts.

At the end of the day, right before 8.30, as you’re about to push the door of the little jazz club, you listen to the voice message Myung sent you.

– okay babe, tonight’s the night. it’s the night where you make us proud. us, the lovers of love, us, the bad boy and top student trope lovers. and ugh, that DRESS, he’s gonna walk in and pass out! i love you, have fun and please, please, please kiss him! it’s been going on way too long, i’m begging you!

You like the message and reply with a few heart emojis before you finally walk in the bar. Immediately, you’re hit with the sweet notes of wood and musc —probably the scent of the place, and the pleasant music of the live band playing on the small stage.

Taking a seat at the bar, you politely greet the bartender, signaling that you are waiting for someone before ordering.

A few people are gathered in booths, sitting in front of each other or softly dancing near the stage. Dimmed lights, old paintings scattered on the walls, burgundy leather booths and green carpets create a very cozy atmosphere. You like that there is music but just enough that you don’t need to yell if you want to speak with someone.

The first few minutes, your eyes stay near the bar’s front door, expecting Wolf to walk in at any moment. You did expect him to show up a little after the said time, he did have something to do before.

But when fifteen minutes go by and he isn’t here, you pull out your phone and open instagram.

Y/N

i’m seated at the bar btw

You keep the conversation open for a few seconds but he doesn’t open the message. No big deal, he is probably on his bike and can’t check his phone.

Another fifteen minutes go by.

Y/N

is everything okay?

seen

Your heart jumps up when you notice Wolf just opened your message. Suddenly, the three dots appear, meaning he is currently typing. He must’ve been held up, probably something to do with the Union.

The three dots disappear.

You start counting. One, did he delete his message? Two, you can feel your throat tightening in apprehension. Three, the dots didn’t pop up again, Wolf must’ve closed the conversation.

And you wait and wait and wait, forced to order a random drink not to be the customer who walks in and doesn’t get anything even though she knows she’s probably being stood up by her date.

The voices of the girls in the bathroom earlier that day inevitably invade your mind. Oh, you didn’t want to believe them this morning, instead choosing to blame their jealousy, but they would be laughing at you if they were here. Even you want to laugh at yourself.

You don’t know what’s going on with Wolf. Maybe something very serious is going on. But how come he can check his phone then? You really want to believe there is an explanation but you can no longer stop the intrusive thoughts.

It’s 9.30 when you leave the bar with the feeling of the bartender’s eyes trailing behind you. There was a hint of pity in his gaze.

Maybe Wolf stumbled upon the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen on his way to the date. Maybe she was so beautiful he wiped you off his head in an instant. Maybe he realized you weren’t so special in the end and that he didn’t want to waste more time with you. Or maybe you were just a joke, a distraction.

Your walk home is as dull as one can be after falling off your perched position above the clouds.

You wish you would’ve listened to yourself in the first place. Wolf is a delinquent. Unreliable. Everything you’re not and everything you don’t want. You should’ve never confronted him weeks ago when he started randomly following you after work.

You were just a prey, a toy to satisfy his desire for action.

And you hate yourself for allowing the tears on your cheeks to melt with the hot water streaming on your body when you take your shower after making it home. Why does it feel so painful to be deceived by someone you never actually dated? And why can’t you just go back to how you felt before?

You don’t need love in your life, it’s not a goal for you. You have your friends and that’s enough. Any girl can have Wolf if they want to, you don’t want him. He was messing with you, he was messing with you, he was messing with you.

The prospect of binge watching your favorite tv show under your bedsheets is barely comforting but you’ll take anything to stop your thoughts.

Your heart clenches when you check your phone.

KSJ

my meeting took longer than planned

we’ve had big issues to deal with

i tried texting but i couldn’t

KSJ

i dont see you at the bar

did you leave already?

KSJ

three missed calls

KSJ

im in front of your place

i’ll wait for you

The butterflies in your stomach at the sight of all these messages are soon crushed by something else. Wolf was in a meeting. With the Union, certainly. Now, you aren’t surprised that what he had to do before your (canceled) date was related to that. But there is something you immediately notice.

He doesn’t apologize in his texts.

Isn’t that the first thing someone should do in a situation like this? You know for a fact you would be begging the other person to forgive you if you ever pulled something like that.

And you know Wolf has a big ego. He literally fights anyone who looks at him for over three seconds. Can you be with someone who doesn’t know how to say sorry?

Your answer is clear. No, you can’t.

Wolf tries to call you a few more times but you never pick up. He can find someone who’s more compliant, this person isn’t you.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

The dreaded meeting with Wolf happens the following Monday morning, when you arrive in front of the school.

You ignored his texts during the whole weekend, endlessly fighting against yourself not to get out of your apartment whenever he mentioned he was downstairs and wanted to talk to you.

You’ve been petty, you know that. But maybe it’s for the best if you just stop giving him the time of day. You two are way too different. You don’t think you have it in you to constantly wait for him to be done with his job with the Union, only to clean his scars and exchange a few words before you have to part ways for the night.

And what can he really offer you if he can’t keep his word nor can he apologize? He can definitely find someone better for the job, someone who will thrive with the fast paced and dangerous life of a delinquent.

Wolf stands up from his laidback position against his bike when he sees you walking in his direction.

Myung and Bongcha give you an encouraging look as Myung grabs your wrist, "I know you have all the reasons to ignore him but
 at least listen to what he has to say."

You nod, aware that you can’t just walk past him when he is right there, eyes stuck on you. You notice he lets out a long breath.

"And communicate," Bongcha joins in. "He can’t guess what goes on in your head."

Your heart is drumming like crazy in your chest when you finally reach him. If only he wasn’t so nice to look at, if only you could slow your heartbeats knowing he tried to reach out to you all weekend, knowing he is there on a Monday morning.

You notice the bloodied scars on his knuckles and another one on his brow. It’s easy to guess what delayed him on Friday night must’ve been a fight with another gang.

"Hi," you say.

"You’re alive," Wolf tries to say playfully but his voice holds something calmer. Like he doesn’t know how to speak to you right now.

You only nod, biting your lower lip in expectation, gaze tearing away to focus on the swamp of students walking inside Ganghak.

"Let me make it up to you," Wolf offers, growing frustrated that your eyes seem to ignore his presence. "I’m picking you up after school."

Still no apology.

"I can’t," you reply in a heartbeat.

Wolf isn’t stupid. He knows he messed up. He knows you can’t be bought with coffees, a fancy dinner and flowers. And he knows you’re saying no because you don’t want to. Not because you can’t.

"I really didn’t think the meeting would take that long," Wolf explains calmly but his mind is running wild. "Then a fight happened and I couldn’t back down."

You sigh, "It’s not about that, honestly."

Wolf frowns at your words. He doesn’t understand what could make you ignore him if it isn’t related to what happened on Friday night.

"I get that you have your thing with the Union, it’s your life and I can only imagine it can get very hectic," you speak. "But
 you never apologized, Wolf."

Wolf remains silent, feeling like he was hit by a truck. Wolf isn’t one to apologize. He never does because he is never wrong. Well, never until right now.

"I waited an hour for you," you continue. "The least you could do is say sorry."

Wolf doesn’t apologize. Usually, he accepts the defeat in silence and looks at his opponent with a newly found form of respect.

But you’re not an opponent, you’re the girl he’s been pining over for years. Like a lame and weak man unable to stop the growing feelings. And, funnily enough, he was never once ashamed.

It took him some time to understand why he was feeling so
 weird around you. When it hit him, he knew he couldn’t just pretend what he was feeling could be ignored. He just needed to plan the way he would get closer to you.

When Wolf doesn’t budge, lips parted and stunned expression plastered on his face, you let out a sigh and take a step back, "I have to go. Bye, Wolf."

Wolf is forced to watch you leave, disappearing inside the Ganghak’s facility.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

Wolf vanishes from your life after that.

You don’t see him at school, you don’t see him at the coffee shop, you don’t see him and his group of friends gathered on the terrace of a bar at night.

It’s been a week and Wolf just disappeared.

But your heart and mind can’t seem to follow along, instead replaying the moments you shared with him over and over again.

And for what? It’s not like you two ever dated. But you know it’s because your old crush was brought back to flames overnight. Because Wolf likes you (if he ever did, you were never sure) and because you thought, maybe, something could’ve happened between you two.

You’re brought back to reality with Myung’s hands squishing your cheeks, "Earth to Y/N!"

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Wolf is here!"

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of the boy who never seems to leave your mind. Why are you freaking out? And when will it all end?

It’s like the universe decided to take your bland life and turn it into a movie.

It’s Friday night, Myung and Bongcha decided to drag you to a party hosted by Soohee, a girl from your class, as if they both forgot what almost happened last time you all went out.

You shouldn’t look. Really, it’s only going to hurt you even more. You’re lucky enough the guy you have feelings for always ditches school, you shouldn’t ruin all your efforts right now.

You shouldn’t look. But Myung’s next words make it even harder, "He’s looking at you. Didn’t stop ever since he saw you."

You’re screwed, too late, you can’t help it. Your brain is screaming not to but it’s all your heart wants. Slowly, you turn around and your eyes land on him. He’s so easy to spot, because of his purple hair probably, but you want to believe it’s like your eyes are made to find each other through the crowd.

A breath is stuck in your throat at the sight of him. He is wearing an oversized pleated black shirt, baggy jeans and a red bandana around his neck. You’re sure this entire outfit cost more than all the money you ever made working at the coffee shop.

You can feel his burning gaze on you, eyeing you up and down, not once feeling embarrassed that you’re seeing him. He fixes his glasses and gulps but never looks away.

Hwangmo flickers his eyes in your direction, wondering why Wolf doesn’t listen to him anymore. He chuckles knowingly and steps away, finding someone else to talk with. He can’t distract Wolf, he knows exactly why he decided to come to this party tonight.

You, on the other hand, can’t handle this anymore. It’s not like you asked him for something so difficult. If he was brave enough to apologize, maybe things would be different tonight.

You spin on your heels and make your way into the open kitchen. You aren’t a big drinker but maybe a beer will help you ignore him.

An entire hour goes by and, even if you can still feel Wolf’s eyes on you, you do a good job focusing your attention on your discussion with Bongcha. Something about a boy she met at cram school and that you would get along with him. You sense Bongcha could have a little crush but she shushes you before you can really start teasing her.

But the atmosphere seems to change when a boy pops up next to you near the kitchen island and starts a conversation.

You’ve never seen him before and find out he is Soohee’s cousin. He’s visiting for a week.

"Got any place to recommend in the city?" he asks, "I rarely have the chance to come."

You shrug, "I don’t know, it depends what you like."

Choi slightly leans forward and you try your best not to grimace because of his liquored breath, "Don’t know, what do you like?"

Oh god no, you really don’t want him to flirt with you. Wait, has he been flirting with you this whole time? You just thought he was being friendly. Why the hell would he flirt with someone when he doesn’t even live in the city?

Realization hits you. He is just a man after all.

Choi doesn’t falter in front of your awkward silence. Instead, he seems to notice something else. He frowns, "This dude’s been staring at me non stop. The fuck does he want?"

You twist your neck so fast you almost see stars. You know exactly who could be staring for so long. And you’re right. It’s Wolf.

Eyes flickering between Choi, who’s leaning against the kitchen island, and Wolf, who’s leaning against a wall in the living room, you immediately notice they’re staring at each other.

Fuck no, Choi doesn’t know about Wolf’s rule. One, Wolf’s doesn’t blink. Two, your heart speeds up at what you know is going to happen next. Three, Wolf smirks and pushes himself off the wall.

"What the fuck’s your problem, dude?" Choi rages.

You have to stop what’s about to happen. What does Wolf think he is doing? Isn’t he fighting enough being part of the Union?

Wolf slowly walks into the kitchen, letting out a small laugh, "My problem’s you’re talking to her."

Wolf points a finger in your direction and he sends you a quick look, losing his smirk for a second. When he looks back at Choi, he is closing his fists and twisting his wrists.

Choi is just really confused at this point. He looks back and forth between you and Wolf and notices you’re more focused on Wolf than on him. He seems to understand something, "Dude, I didn’t know she was taken or something! How could I fucking know if she doesn’t say shit!"

Wolf loses his smirk instantly. Blaming the girl he likes appears to be the worst thing Choi could’ve done and Wolf is ready to push you aside when you beat him to it.

Your hand latches around Wolf’s wrist and he blinks, immediately pulled out of his enraged state. He looks at you with his eyes open wider.

"Don’t fucking do it," you warn and, next thing you know, you’re pulling him out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

Your heart is racing. Wolf was a second away from knocking Choi down. You’ve seen the look in his eyes. The look that caused you to throw your crush for him into the flames, years ago.

You walk inside the first room down the hall, forcefully closing the door behind you both and pushing Wolf against it. Wolf’s back smashes against the wooden door, the sound bouncing against the walls.

You don’t care. He fights all the time, you know it didn’t hurt him.

Wolf’s heart is racing like crazy as he watches your annoyed state. You’re known for being calm and collected. He likes that about you. But he can’t deny it does something to him seeing you so fed up you threw him against a door with no second thought.

"What the fuck, Wolf?!" you seethe, pacing back and forth in front of him.

"I was doing you a favor," he says. "You were clearly uncomfortable."

"Oh, please, keep your favors," you roll your eyes. "You’re so fucking annoying, I really wanna slap you right now."

"Do it," Wolf dares seriously.

You’re too stunned to speak. Of course you’re not going to slap him. He deserves a good hit but you’ll never do it.

"If that’s what it takes for you to talk to me again, just do it."

He’s going to piss you off even more. He knows what it takes. A slap isn’t going to fix things.

"You know what it takes," you sigh angrily. "But you have an ego the size of a fucking mountain!"

"And you don’t?"

You gasp in disbelief, "No, actually, I don’t! Don’t turn the tables around here, you know you fucked up." You run a hand over your face, what’s the point of talking with him. "It doesn’t fucking matter, you don’t get it. It’s not that important anyway, it’s not like—"

"I’m sorry!" Wolf lets out loudly. "Fucking hell, Y/N. After the meeting, I fucking rushed to the bar. I looked for you everywhere."

There is a knot in your throat. Wolf just apologized.

"I know I fucked up. And I’m sorry," Wolf confesses, again. His voice is calmer this time.

What are you supposed to do now? You assumed he would never apologize and that you would have to let the time heal you of something that could’ve been and never was.

Wolf can tell you’re unsettled. You’re breathing a little faster and so is he. He’s never apologized before. Never like that. Never for anyone. He was always sure but it’s another confirmation that he’s got you under his skin. Like you cast a spell on him.

"Three years," Wolf breaks the silence.

You frown and look up, finding his eyes, "What?"

"You’ve asked me for how long I’ve liked you," Wolf says with a long sigh. "Three years."

Three years? But, what could’ve happened three years ago for Wolf to like you for that long?

Wolf can tell you’re trying to remember, "We were paired for a science project. I already thought you were the prettiest girl in the school. But we met up to work and it happened after my first big fight."

That science project? The one Myung was talking about on your way to the Yoosun party? At the time your crush on Wolf was stronger than ever? It can’t be real. You can’t believe it.

But you can now recall the moment perfectly.

You were nervous to the core. You were meeting with Wolf at the library, still praying he would work a little. At the time, he already had a reputation for ditching classes and letting others work for him.

Your face fell when he walked into the library and made his way to your table.

He was bleeding from everywhere. The nose, the lips, the knuckles, the eyebrows.

You were too shocked to reply when he greeted you and sat down next to you. Your eyes were glued to the big gash on the right side of his face, under his lips on his jawline. You winced, wondering how he could maintain such composure.

Your hands flew to grab your backpack. With fencing, slight injuries were bound to occur so you always had stuff to take care of bruises and cuts.

Too focused on gathering the materials, you didn’t notice Wolf’s frown as he wondered what you were doing. Honestly, he didn’t even know why he even bothered showing up to work on a school homework he didn’t even care for.

You two weren’t close. He had known you almost his whole life but you never became friends. So why did he come? He couldn’t tell.

With a hand gesture, you’ve asked him to turn his head to the side so you could apply some disinfectant, "It has to be cleaned right away."

Wolf was unsettled to say the least. Were you offering to clean his cuts? In the middle of the library? Were you
 prioritizing him over school work?

Wolf didn’t wince when you sprayed the disinfectant on his bleeding skin. But he gulped at the proximity, watching the way you were leaning forward with the cotton pad, gently dabbing it on the injury.

One, his heart clenched in his chest.

You carefully unwrapped a bandage and gave him a soft smile, "You’ll have to change it two or three times a day."

Two, his eyes twitched and he couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as your fingers came closer and closer.

You placed the bandage over his injury, biting your lower lip in concentration. When you leaned back, something weird was happening in Wolf’s heart.

You were quick to put your stuff back in your bag, "Let’s work on the science project another time."

Three, Wolf’s heart skipped a beat.

So Wolf started liking you the day you cleaned his big injury? On the day you went home with a weight in your chest, knowing it was best to throw your crush on him in the garbage?

Something else hits you. The bandage on his face. Always at the same place. Exactly where you placed it on his face three years ago. You know the injury was rather serious, meaning he must have a scar there.

But a scar doesn’t mean there needs to be a bandage.

You don’t want to believe these two things are linked. You don’t want to but you can’t help it.

Wolf nervously bites his lower lip. His eyes never leave your face, observing the slight changes in your behavior as you remember the moment that caused his endless infatuation.

He barely blinks that you’ve taken three steps in his direction. Your eyes travel from his left eye to the right. Your breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes flicker to his lips.

Wolf didn’t even count to three that your hands find his body, one behind his neck and the other over his chest. Wolf immediately melts when your lips meet with his own.

His hands find your waist, gripping you so tight you know there is no space between your bodies.

The kiss is intense. Wolf’s lips are so much softer than anything you could’ve imagined. It’s soft but you’re pressing your lips harder, letting out a small gasp when Wolf bites your lower lip. You smile against his lips at the groan he lets out when you slightly pull his hair.

The kiss becomes sloppy, your heart leaps and your stomach twists as Wolf’s lips fasten against yours. He tastes like cigarettes and sweet liquor, you want more. The hands on your waist move around your back, tightening the grip even more and you can feel Wolf’s fingers lingering on the hem of your top.

Fuck, you can’t breathe anymore. Fuck, Wolf wouldn’t even have to ask for you let him slip his hand under your shirt. Fuck, you’re down bad.

You have to pull apart to take a breath. You really don’t want to stop kissing him but you need to breathe.

Your heart is bouncing in your chest and you can’t maintain eye contact with the way Wolf is looking at you. Has he ever looked at someone like that before? You can feel your knees buckling and your cheeks warming up when one of Wolf’s hands force your chin up.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes and he is breathing faster. Flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you would give everything to take a picture right now.

His voice is barely a whisper, "You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this."

You yelp when he swiftly switches positions, pushing you against the door and kissing you again with no warning.

The fingers on your chin tilt your head to the side before finding the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing the skin behind your ear. Wolf kisses you softly, responding to the way you move your lips against his.

When you kiss with urge, Wolf licks your bottom lip before biting your flesh and slightly finding your tongue with his when you open your mouth in surprise.

When you kiss slowly, doing anything to feel every inch of his plump lips, Wolf kisses you even slower as if he is trying to remember every piece of you.

And when he pulls back, he barely does. Far enough for you to breathe, close enough for his nose to rub against yours and his lips to constantly be brushing against yours.

Your brain doesn’t work properly anymore. You kissed Wolf. You initiated it. Not him. You.

You’ve never done this before. You’ve always let the other come forward first. Probably because you can never believe that someone can be into you like that.

Your brain doesn’t work properly anymore so you don’t care, you close the gap between your lips again. He feels so sweet on you, you want to kiss him until you can’t feel your lips anymore.

You melt when Wolf kisses you back as if it’s all he wants too.

Wolf is the first to pull away, aware that things are going to go too far if he doesn’t slow down now. He is very close from the edge at this point, dizzy and shaken to the core.

He isn’t going to say it but he didn’t think he could get more addicted to you. Then you kissed him. Wolf is screwed, he can’t deny the hold you have on him.

A breath gets stuck in Wolf’s throat when you gently play with the hair falling on his forehead, "Should we get out of here?"

Wolf doesn’t trust his voice, he only nods firmly, wasting no time to wrap a hand around yours and pulling you out of the room.

The music bouncing on the walls of the entire house doesn’t reach your ears. The faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes don’t reach your nose. The surprised looks of people when you’re seen breezing through the crowd with Wolf don’t reach your eyes.

You don’t even notice how Myung freaks out, barely containing a shriek as she holds onto a proudly smirking Bongcha for support.

Nothing matters anymore. You just want to get out of this house with Wolf.

The frisky wind feels like a gentle shock against your flushed and warm body as you stop in front of Wolf’s bike. You’ve offered him to leave this place but to go where? Truth is you don’t care.

When Wolf releases your hand to grab a helmet, you latch onto him, swiftly wrapping one arm around his chest.

Wolf feels like he is going to explode. He turns around to take a look at you. To make sure he isn’t dreaming this moment. If only he had known that you would touch him like this, your arm now around his back, that you would kiss him like this, that you would look at him like this.

If only he had known you would make his heart race insanely fast like this, he would have found a way to approach you sooner. Way sooner.

Wolf cups your cheeks with both hands and closes the gap, giving a kiss that has you almost moaning in his mouth.

Wolf is biting his lower lip when he pulls away, almost ready to just kiss you to no end. But it’s too soon, he’s just fixed things with you and he wants to take his time.

Wolf groans and is forced to break the eye contact at your flushed cheeks, swollen lips and big doe eyes, "Fuck, you’re driving me crazy."

The chuckle that comes out of your lips is the cutest thing he’s ever heard. He is really going insane at this point, he doesn’t even remember what he was supposed to do.

He blinks a few times and sees the bike. Quickly, he grabs a helmet and places it over your head. Now, he can’t just forget things and randomly kiss you, he’s keeping that for later.

"Let’s make that second date happen, yeah?" Wolf offers with a grin.

You nod quickly, sitting on the bike as you wait for him to do the same.

Wolf is about to turn on the engine, trying as hard as he can not to focus on your arm wrapped around his torso and the other over his shoulder, when you gasp. Wolf straightens, putting a hand on your thigh as a reflex, "What?"

"I said I’d pay for the second date but I forgot my wallet!"

Wolf’s body relaxes and you can feel his laugh against your chest, "That’s my girl."

AUTHOR’S NOTE. omg this was such a wild ride, i hope you enjoyed it (and that wolf wasn’t too ooc), anyways, i’m planning to write more for them so if you have ideas for some drabbles, please leave a comment or a private message !!!

gojocp
7 months ago
gojocp - gojocp
gojocp
7 months ago

⋆.˚ PICKUP LINES ˚.⋆

. PICKUP LINES .
. PICKUP LINES .
. PICKUP LINES .

content: kuroo tries to rizz you up with awful pickup lines. kuroo x fem reader

warnings: none

notes: it seems like we r all on board with the loser kuroo agenda based on that one post i made LMAO so here u go <3

soundtrack: from the start - laufey

. PICKUP LINES .

tetsuro kuroo is a loser. yet, you couldn't help but fall for him.

his tall build, charismatic personality, even the pickup lines. oh, the pickup lines. they're horrible, and they're the only way kuroo knows how to flirt. you were sitting on the sidelines of a practice match between karasuno and nekoma during the summer training camp. as a manager, being sent hot glances and heart eyes by the players was not foreign to you. however, you would have to be blind not to noice how this bed-headed try hard had been glancing at you throughout the week. everyone noticed, especially his teammates.

"kuroo, what is up with you?" kenma asked. he was the first one to see that kuroo looked like a deer in the headlights. "hm? nothing, why?" he answered. kenma sighed. "really? you keep looking at karasuno's manager over there" he said rather loudly. kuroo ignored him as he got into position for the next play. "serve it up, fukunaga!" kuroo said loudly, giving kenma a hard stare.

nekoma ended up winning the practice match. as karasuno headed for their penalty lap, you sat by yourself briefly before noticing how kuroo was now talking to his equally spiky-haired friend-- and they were looking at you.

"just do it bro!" bokuto said. "she'll fall for you, trust me!" bokuto couldnt be casual if he tried. he talked with his whole body as his voice echoed throughout the gym. "keep it down!" kuroo said, giving his friend a firm nudge. "you really think so?" he whispered, glancing at you. "absolutely my dude." bokuto said confidently. "if not, i'll uh.." he looked around the gym, considering his options. "oh! ill run a lap around the gym in my underwear!" he exclaimed. "and i don't wanna do that, so go get yourself a lady, kuroo!" he patted (slapped) kuroo's back twice.

as you watched the interaction play out, there was no doubt that they were talking about you. and now, kuroo was striding in your direction.

you panicked. hard. it was something about his lanky build, his confident demeanor. he looked so incredibly awkward, too. as he approached you, you tried to defer your eyes to the match happening on the court over. he cleared his throat, making you jump. kuroo was now towering over you. "hey." he swallowed before taking a deep breath.

"are you made of uranium and iodine? because all i can see is you and i together."

you stared up and him and blinked in disbelief. no way that of all things came out of someone who carried himself with such confidence. before you could laugh at his awful pickup line, he offered you his hand to shake it. "tetsuro kuroo" he said. "i uhm. couldnt help but notice you throughout the week. what's someone like you doing as a manager, huh?" you couldn't help but laugh. he was a nervous wreck. he held his composure pretty well, but you saw right through him.

you shook his hand. "nice to meet you, im y/n. and yes, ive seen you staring at me this whole week, tetsuro kuroo." you teased. kuroo sighed and looked back at bokuto, who was, of course, looking in his direction. "listen. my friend over there told me that if i made a fool of myself, he would run around the gym naked." your eyes widened at his remark. "so, for the sake of everyones eyes, will you go out with me?"

you finally looked into his eyes and smiled before remarking, "of course. for the sake of everyone's eyes." he smiled, feeling affection for your sly remarks. as karasuno came inside from their penalty lap, kuroo departed from you, sending you a wink before joining the rest of his team.

kuroo is a loser, but god its so perfect. he swoons about you to his friends, just loud enough so you can hear without him knowing. he acts suave around you, even when he's melting inside. and no matter how long you've been dating, he will always use those awful pickup lines. and every time he does, you fall for him a little more.

. PICKUP LINES .

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

gojocp
7 months ago

hii! could I request ben, gray, gerard, and Alex with a s/o whos the primary caretaker of her siblings? idk your character limit so remove anyone you need to

WH w/ a 'caretaker' reader

Hii! Could I Request Ben, Gray, Gerard, And Alex With A S/o Whos The Primary Caretaker Of Her Siblings?

featuring: ben park, alex go, gray yeon, and gerard jin wc: 1.6k

a/n: hello! it's been so long, wow.. honestly I just got really motivated to write out of nowhere. thank you for the request, and I hope you like it!

Hii! Could I Request Ben, Gray, Gerard, And Alex With A S/o Whos The Primary Caretaker Of Her Siblings?

BEN PARK: ïœĄïœ„::★,ïœĄïœ„::☆─

After another fight against the Union, Ben walks home very injured. Of course, they had to be on his back about messing up their ‘plans’ when he didn’t even care about them before they hurt his friends.

So here he is, walking home late at night holding his arm to his chest. Ben would like to say he doesn’t regret fighting the Union since he can protect his friends. But he feels bad since it worries you. And you must have been very worried tonight as you waited outside his doorstep.

“(y/n)? What are you doing here?” he approaches you slowly but adverts his gaze as your attention shifts to his arm.

“Wh- are you okay? What happened?” you stand up from his porch and walk towards him. You sigh as you look at the glum expression on his face, “Come, let me clean your arm.”

Sitting him on the toilet seat, you open the first-aid kit in his bathroom. You rinse his wound with water and put an antibiotic cream before wrapping his arm with gauze.

“You do this a lot?” he asks, watching your careful movements.

“My siblings always get hurt.” you finish wrapping his arm and look at him, “What happened?”

He sighs and looks away. You gently cup his face and lift his head to look at you. At times like this, he hates how you can see right through him. He knows he can’t hide things from you so he takes a deep breath before speaking in a meek tone.

“It was the Union again. Really, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. This isn’t fine! I’m worried about you,” you glance at the scar on his other bicep. “I don’t want you to get hurt so much.”

He takes a deep breath. He knows you’re worried, if the roles were reversed he would be a lot more panicked than you are right now. Ben admires your ability to stay calm under pressure, but it seems like this is your last straw. He opens and closes his mouth for a moment as if the words got stuck in his throat before he begins to speak. “I know, but what am I supposed to do when these guys keep picking fights? It’s not like I want to get hurt.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

You hold his hand comfortingly, “I know, Ben. I’m not blaming you. I’m just worried that eventually, it won’t be just a scratch that’s left
 I just want you to be careful.” He looks into your eyes and rests his head on your shoulder. It’s as if all his worries disappeared into thin air as he relaxes into your touch.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” You wrap your arms around his shoulder and hold him close. Sure, the Union is pissing him off to no end, but at least he has you.

GRAY YEON: ïœĄïœ„::★,ïœĄïœ„::☆─

Being one of the top students in class and a part of Ben’s gang, it wasn’t odd for you to tutor your friends. So when Gray suggests you study with him, you agree. Usually, he turns down your invitations as he goes to cram school or volunteers at the hospital so you were over the moon when he invited you this time. The only issue was, it had to be at your house.

You took a deep breath and braced for what was coming. You open the door and walk in. Leaving your shoes by the front and take in the eerie silence. “You can sit at the table, just give me one second.”

You walk to your sibling’s room and find your younger brother asleep. Your younger sister is giggling as she throws baby powder on his face and buries him in blankets and toys. “(s/n)! What are you doing?” you pull her away from your brother and sit her in the corner.

“I made an Elsa burrito..” She mumbles, pouting as you pack up the powder. You give her a stern look and she begins to clean up the mess she made. You shake awake your brother.

“(b/n) wake up, let’s clean you.” You carry him and some clothes out of the room and into the bathroom. Gray watches in curiosity as your head peeks out of the bathroom, “Sorry, I just need to wash him. You can start without me.”

Gray nods and opens his notebook. He glances up as the bedroom door opens and your sister tiptoes over to him. “Who are you? Her boyfriend?”

Gray’s eyes widen a bit at the question. “I’m a classmate.”

“Oh. Well, I’m (s/n).” She climbs onto a chair next to him. “If your work is hard you can ask me. I’m good at school.”

Gray has an amused look on his face, “Okay, well I’m Gray. And I need some help on this question right here.” He plays along with your sister’s antics, showing his notebook to her.

“Oh, well that’s easy.” She takes the notebook and doodles what looks like an apple and 3 stars. “So, because of the 3 there, you do 3 stars and because of the 1 you do an apple.” She explains her answer.

“
I see.” You walk out of the bathroom carrying your brother.

“(s/n), stop bothering my friend! It’s nap time.”

“Aww.. No, we’re having fun..” she pouts but walks to her room anyway. You carry your brother and put them both to sleep. You return to the table and sit down to study. “Sorry, I didn’t think they would make that much of a mess.

“It’s fine.” Gray replies, a faint smile glosses over his face as he looks at your sister's drawing.

He glances at you and goes back to his work. Huh, it seems you’ve gained an admirer.

GERARD JIN: ïœĄïœ„::★,ïœĄïœ„::☆─

Gerard was walking in the hair aisle of some store, looking for gel when he heard an ear-piercing scream. He turned and saw a kid crying on the ground. His gaze travelled higher and he saw you standing with your head in your hand, pinching the bridge of your nose. He begins to walk toward you as he hears what the boy is crying over.

“I want the guitar! I wanna play guitar!” You sigh and lift the boy to his feet. Gerard approaches you and smiles at the boy. “Hey (y/n), you okay?”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, uhm, my brother just really wants a guitar..” You feel embarrassed that Gerard had to see you like this. “He doesn’t even know how to play, so I don’t know where he got the idea from.”

“All my friends have one!” your brother says, cheeks pink and blotchy from his earlier crying.

“You don’t even know how to play!” you shut down his argument right away, not wanting to deal with it any longer. Gerard observes the behaviour and offers a solution.

“Uhm, I play guitar. So, I mean, I can teach him.. if he wants.” He says sheepishly, scratching his cheek.

Your eyes light up at his words, “Really? That would be great!”

“Yeah, then he can see if he likes playing or not.” He replies. Your brother stands up and jumps up and down. “Can I? Can I, can I?”

“
Okay, but only if you promise not to be a bother.” You place a hand on his head to stop him from jumping.

“I’m never a bother!” He glares at you.

“You were a bother a few minutes ago.” You retort, glaring back.

Gerard laughs at your antics and bids farewell. He smiles on his way back, glad he got an excuse to talk to you.

ALEX GO: ïœĄïœ„::★,ïœĄïœ„::☆─

Alex sat on the park bench eating his ice cream. He came with Ben and his friends but they left him to get more food. You held your sister’s hand as she walked you to the park. You sit her on a swing and begin pushing her.

Ben and their friends arrive and they run around the park. He then decides to sit in the kids-sized swing, getting stuck. Alex walks over and tries to get him out but to no avail.

“Hi!” Your younger sister waves to them.

“Hi!” They smile and wave back. “Wait- Help!” The swing flips upside down and Ben is hanging from it.

“Dude! What the fu- uhm.. uh.. hell
” Alex exclaims, correcting himself as he remembers the child next to him.

“Uhm, are you okay?” You ask with concern etched on your features.

“My friend got stuck..” Alex mumbles, embarrassed on Ben’s behalf; because he didn’t care about how dumb he looked.

“Oh, just take his shoes off. I think that’ll help.” You notice his shoes are blocking his feet from coming free. Alex takes his friend's shoes off and Ben slides out of the swing with a thump. Your sister laughs as he hits the sand.

“Why didn’t you think of that before, ya moron!” Ben blames.

“You were the one who got stuck?!” Alex retorts. He blushes a bit as he faces you, “Thank you
 uh..” He trails off.

“(y/n), and it’s no problem.” You smile.

Ben whacks his back and runs off, hollering whatever nonsense excuse he can think of. Alex quickly runs after him. Eventually, they make their way back to their homes.

“So
 you thought she was cute, huh?” Ben asks, teasingly wriggling his eyebrows; he could read Alex like a book, they have been friends since elementary after all.

“What?? Man, shut up..” He replies, flustered by his friend’s sudden claim. But even though he denied it, he might start going to the park more often.


Tags :
gojocp
7 months ago

so it’s been very long
 😓😓 BUT i may or may not be working on a gojo royalty au so stay tuned. reqs r on their way i’ve just been so burnt out lately. if i go on hiatus for like 5 months again feel free to yell at me 😭😭


Tags :
gojocp
7 months ago

"creature of myth."

"creature Of Myth."
"creature Of Myth."
"creature Of Myth."
"creature Of Myth."
"creature Of Myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

"creature Of Myth."

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes
 “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return
 changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering
 why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and
 that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s
 terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and
 wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to
 consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning
 and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family
 then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually
 black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly
 amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort
 Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin
 you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband
 and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit
 strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like
 that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost
 unsettling. 

“Of course
 Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so
 finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever
 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but
 look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you
 get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal
” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m
 perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of
 put you on the bed and
 do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was
 not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not
” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just
 guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more
 liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan
 and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was
 good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much
 use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just
 I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only
 watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not
 eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something
 menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but
 off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are
 perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s
 unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a
 terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little
 flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has
 left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He
 what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely
” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time
 You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you
” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me
” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me
” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says
 but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too
 good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse
 it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re
” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too
 real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not
” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw
 “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a
” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this
 this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in
 thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well
” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell
” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one
 You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much
 cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that
 “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before
 well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt


He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s
 more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and
 pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to
 ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru
” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why
 “‘M gonna
” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have
” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

"creature Of Myth."

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gojocp
7 months ago

HELL YEAHH MANN i acc love these

HELL YEAHH MANN I Acc Love These
HELL YEAHH MANN I Acc Love These

idk the character maker reminds me of sbg

pov: you’re in a horror film

1. Create your own look here

2. Find out what role you are here

I was tagged by @willowmckinley and I’m tagging @thylacinedream and @magically-with-magic

Pov: Youre In A Horror Film
Pov: Youre In A Horror Film
gojocp
7 months ago

When I get a nice AO3 comment or Tumblr reblog I have to force myself not to say "I LOVE YOU PLEASE MARRY ME CAN WE BE BEST FRIENDS FOREVER I'M OBSESSED WITH YOU" and instead say "thanks"

gojocp
8 months ago
Plot Twist

Plot twist

gojocp
9 months ago

so clearly i lied
 😅😅

hey guys
 it’s been a while
 😁😁 how are you all? (oh my god i haven’t posted in a WHILE pls dont kill me) i’ve been busy with work 😞😞 pls know i am working on reqs and have not forgotten abt my tangled series đŸ’ȘđŸ’Șwhen i’m less busy i’ll be on that grind 💯💯 (sorry LMAO)


Tags :
gojocp
9 months ago

I LOVE BRO

THE EYE TWITCHES??? HES SO CUTE

wolf keum – eye twitch

summary : “can’t you believe what you see?” you’re best friends with wolf but your feelings for him are a burden to carry all by yourself. what happens when you actually confess?

genre : fluff – angst (i mean
 wolf)

warnings : best friends to lovers, angst, fighting, blood, injuries, bad communication, harsh words, jealousy, wolf’s a bit ooc, stalking because wolf’s actually obsessed?!?!

author’s note : 1st time writing for weak hero and it had to be for wolf!¡! if you like this pairing i’m considering writing drabbles for them so throw a comment if you’d like to read that!

The hand of the clock moved so slowly you could have ripped your own head off in boredom way too many times to count. You never liked Fridays, probably your second least favorite day of the week after Monday.

Your teacher was speaking, probably explaining a mathematical theory you never once cared about, but it sounded more like gibberish.

To your left, Wolf’s empty seat. He did offer you to skip the last classes of the day —not that he actually attended a single class the last two days, but you refused. Your parents were on your back ever since finding out you failed two tests this month.

You drop your head on your desk and text Wolf that you could just kill yourself at this point. You can almost hear his typical snicker in his reply.

You had been friends with Wolf for years at this point, bonding over a bizarre hobby you both shared. Fighting. Well, it wasn’t bizarre for the two of you, more so a daily activity. But you agreed it was uncommon for most people.

Unlike Wolf, you never tried to pick fights over nothing. But you would always retaliate when someone would challenge you. Sometimes you would fight over a simple snarky comment but, hey, they were asking for it.

And when Wolf joined the Union, people immediately assumed you did too. Donald did offer you a position, always open with the idea of creating a branch for women. You knew it was purely strategic, fully aware of the advantages women could bring to the table, especially for business.

You throw a pretty woman with a tight dress in a room full of old and rich business men and you can be sure that they sign any contract if the woman flirts with them, even just a little.

But you had politely declined the offer, not firmly, knowing that you had to let the window open just a little bit to make sure Wolf could be on Donald’s good side. Instead, you had promised Donald to think about it long and hard but that joining the Union was not part of your plan at the moment.

So, you were not directly part of the Union, but being friends, with one of its most important members, you knew you were kind of affiliated with them.

You’re the first on your feet when the bell rings. School is over and your favorite part of the week just started. The weekend. You pack your bag, say bye to your friends and sprint down the halls, ready to meet with Wolf for your usual Friday evening plans.

Your happiness fizzles out when you don’t spot Wolf’s purple hair amongst the buzzing crowd, nor do you see his bike.

Where the hell is that punk? you think as you pull out your phone.

He texted you ten minutes ago and your face falls at the message :

đŸș 😈

last min meeting with donald

i’ll text you when i’m done

Well, it looks like your weekend is off to a rookie start. You just hope Wolf isn’t in trouble. You know he isn’t the best at keeping a low profile —even when Donald demands it, so, even if you know that Wolf wasn’t involved in any big confrontation recently, you can’t help but worry a little.

. . .

You were never a bad student. It doesn’t mean you’ve ever been a great student. You would more so say
 good on average. You never planned on going to a prestigious college and your parents never tried that hard to make sure you were amongst the best students. So having them check your test scores every time after failing two exams was more than upsetting.

You grunt in front of the paper sitting on your desk, awaiting an essay that isn’t even interesting. Absentmindedly, your eyes land on your phone. No texts from Wolf. It’s ten at night. You’re about to grab the device, ready to call him when a slight knock on your window makes you drop the phone and jump up in surprise.

Wolf’s on the other side of the glass, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he waves with a tiny smile.

The daggers you send his way for scaring you are soon replaced by a heavy sigh. No bruises or blood on his face, his knuckles are untouched. Nothing bad happened during the meeting, Wolf is fine. You open the window and steal the stick from his mouth, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke directly on his face.

"Are your parents home?"

You chuckle, "Please, why do you keep asking."

Wolf shrugs and he blinks, taking a good look at you. When he comes over —most of the time without warning, it’s usually early in the morning or in the evening to take you out on a night stroll. Wolf has seen you in your pajamas often. But it’s definitely the first time he’s seen that one.

He raises an eyebrow, "Didn’t take you for a princess kind of girl."

"Uh?"

Wolf doesn’t think before latching a finger around the strap of your silk nightdress, "Princesses wear dresses like that to bed."

Your heart jumps in your chest at the contact. You two can be close physically, usually when no one you know is around, but this one feels different. You can feel your cheeks warming up and you step back, forcing Wolf to let go of his hold.

"How do you know what princesses wear?" you ask. "Do you watch romcoms in secret?"

Again, he simply shrugs, his eyes lingering on your figure as you open the drawer on your nightstand to pull out an ashtray and sit on your bed, still smoking his cigarette.

"Princesses don’t smoke," he says as he climbs into your bedroom. "Or fight."

"Good thing I’m not a princess then."

Shoes forgotten near the window, bag opened to reveal a few beers and some snacks, Wolf picks a CD and starts a track, jumping on your bed. He is lying down, face by the foot of your bed, occasionally sitting up to drink his beer.

He is quiet and you take that time to observe him, eyes wandering by his features. He has his usual bandages, one on his jaw, another one following his neck line. His face is relaxed, eyes gazing at the ceiling, as if his often clouded brain is now peaceful.

"You’re staring."

You blink, almost choking on your sip, and nudge him with your foot. You absolutely hate when Wolf does that. You don’t know if those glasses give him superpowers but it’s like he always knows when you look at him. Sometimes, you happen to stumble upon one of his fights and it only takes him a second to turn around and spot you.

When he sees you and he is busy fighting random guys on the streets, he often winks, "My supporter’s finally here."

Other times, he lets you finish the fight for him. It only happens when he knows you are strong enough to defeat them and because he never once hid the fact he goes feral when watching you fight. He just loves to see when boys go from confident —they always assume they are stronger than women, to utterly terrified and ashamed when you throw them to the ground. What’s even more exciting is that these boys usually don’t even have enough time to try and touch you that they’re lying on the ground in a puddle of blood.

You sigh, putting your beer can on the nightstand, "How was the meeting?"

And that is when something weird happens. Gaze still locked on the ceiling, you notice how he stiffens, eyes darkening at your question.

"S’alright," Wolf replies.

S’alright? you repeat in your head. Well, that’s a first. Usually, Wolf hardly keeps secrets from you. Of course, if things were sensitively confidential, you knew Wolf would never mention them. But you had already been invited to meetings in the past. Mainly in the beginning, when Donald was trying to recruit you.

Your stomach twists at the way Wolf’s attitude changed in a second. You don’t know what happened but you don’t like what you’re seeing. Wolf is usually so
 careless. Even when it comes to the Union. He does the job but he never looks worried.

You can tell something is bothering him. And you hate seeing this. It makes you feel like something really bad could potentially be happening sooner than planned. You sit up, ready to change his mind, "Wanna go out?"

You have this bar you both love to go to, mainly because the owners love you. For an obscure reason, you never dared to ask, too scared to lose that privilege, since you’re not eighteen yet. Well, in a few months but, legally, you’re not allowed in.

You miss the way an almost unseen expression flashes in Wolf’s eyes for less than a second and he shakes his head, "No, I’m good here."

Well, that’s even weirder. Wolf’s always up for a drink at the bar. Actually, he is always up for multiple drinks and you often end on the dance floor after one or two drinks, always begging for Wolf to come with you. You’re not persuasive enough since he’s always sitting on a stool, keeping an eye on you.

"Okay."

And, again, you take a look at him. His eyes are closed now, his breathing is steady and his arms are crossed behind his head. You bite your lower lip at the sight and mentally curse.

It was an eternal battle with yourself to face your feelings for Wolf. Because they settled in your heart insidiously, like a secret your own brain was unaware of. At first, you only thought it was because he looked pretty. Because he did. Amongst the girls in high school, it was always « If only he wasn’t such a psycho, I could fall for him ». Except you knew more than the psycho about Wolf.

He likes to read, alone or with you, and you still perfectly remember the shock on your face the day Wolf mentioned wanting to go to the library with you. You were astounded. Even more when he actually did go, breezing through the library’s alleys and reading back cover after back cover until he settled on a book.

He likes to go eat with you, always okay with whatever place you pick and he is always down to try the weirdest looking dish on the menu.

He remembers everything you tell him. From the strange dreams you’ve had the night before, the next tatoo you plan on getting, your favorite snack and the names of the people who ever messed with you.

And, even if you know he doesn’t talk much, he is always there. You know you can always count on him for anything.

You drop your head back, feeling conflicted. You will have to confess. The feelings are eating you alive, burning and choking you when you barely start to think about them. But you know you might lose him when you do confess.

Wolf doesn’t seem interested in dating. Hell, even flirting seems to bore him out of his mind. You’ve noticed how women try to engage a conversation whenever you go out to the bar. Every time, his eyes leave you to land on the stranger. Every time, he blinks, says something you can never hear because you are too far, the woman blushes in embarrassment and walks away. Then, he sips his drink and looks back at you.

Sometimes, the delusional part of yourself thinks it’s because of you. He likes to tease you about how much you look at him. But he does the same. You may not be as good to spot his eyes on you every time but you catch him often.

Somewhere in your mind, the hope that Wolf may feel things for you exists. And as exciting as it is, it’s just as dangerous. You know Wolf isn’t one to sit on things he wants to say or do. If he does like you, a part of you knows it would be completely out of character for him to stay silent. Wolf is not a passive person, quite the opposite.

That is also why you need to confess. Because you’d rather rip the bandage quickly and be rejected than to keep living in the fantasy that blossoms more and more each day.

It is probably going to hurt. Your heart already aches at the possibility of Wolf turning on his heels and erasing you from his life altogether. But unrequited love always hurts harder in the long run if kept quiet.

You have to confess. But not tonight. No, tonight you want to enjoy his presence a little longer.

. . .

You’ve spent every night with Wolf this past week. Which is strange because Wolf usually likes his alone time.

And, every night, you told yourself you would confess. Only to chicken out. You would start talking, look up to see Wolf’s eyes already on you and a wave of regret would choke the words down your throat.

The breeze blows stronger now that you are on the highest hill of the park. The heavy clouds rapidly moving into the night sky forced the few people already there to pack their stuff and leave.

It’s going to rain, you can feel it.

Something electric lingers in the air, you have to confess now. After spending a whole week with Wolf —he even attended more classes, you can’t stand what’s happening inside of you anymore. The way your stomach twists and your heart races, it just hurts.

Wolf is leaning against the railing, back facing you, as he smokes a cigarette.

You take a deep breath, "Wolf."

"Ah, are you finally gonna say what’s been on your mind all week?"

TouchĂ©. You know Wolf is smart and never bought your excuses every time you pretended what you wanted to say wasn’t important. Or that it slipped your mind.

Wolf turns around, eyes boring into yours and it feels like there is no distance between you both. But there is. You would have to take a good five steps to be standing in front of him. So why does it feel like he is right there, so close that your breathing picks up and that you feel your throat tightening.

You can’t back down anymore. Not this time. You tried to make the feelings go away, persuading yourself you were making things up. To no avail. You like him.

Fuck what happens next, you’re prepared for the worst.

"I like you."

A heavier breeze hits your face when the words leave your mouth, carrying the echoes of your confession into the sky.

That’s it, you said it. It’s too late to back out now.

Wolf’s eyes twitch for a second before he blinks once. No, twice. A silence that lasts for longing seconds fills the distance. You watch him, noticing how he seems to be struggling with something. His lips tremble, as if wanting to say something, and a veil cover his eyes.

Suddenly, you wonder. Did he really understand what you just said? Saying you like someone doesn’t necessarily mean in a romantic way. You like all of your friends and are never scared to tell them.

You scratch your throat, "I—I meant, hm, not just as a
 friend—"

"Yeah, I got that."

Wolf’s voice is as sharp as ice when he interrupts you. It’s as harsh as your mother’s hand colliding against your cheek.

That is a good thing you prepared yourself for the worst case scenario. Because it looks like it’s becoming real.

The veil that was covering his eyes vanishes and his gaze darkens. It is the first time Wolf has ever looked at you this way, your blood turns cold at the sight.

The next minute is probably the worst in your life, as Wolf spits terrifying words at your face.

"You think I didn’t know before?"

You can’t stop the blush warming up your face. You didn’t think it was so easy to read you.

"I thought you were smarter than this, honestly," he says with a snicker. "I don’t need friends, even less a girlfriend."

Okay, you weren’t expecting such harsh words. What does he mean he doesn’t need friends? Was your friendship with Wolf a product of your imagination? It couldn’t be. You never forced him to hang out with you, he was actually the one to approach you first, years ago, after seeing you defeating three boys at once.

"I hang out with you because Donald wants you in the Union," he reveals. "Not because I want to."

A part of you knows Wolf is blatantly lying to you. You were friends before he joined the Union. You were also certain that Wolf was glad the day you refused to join the Union. He never said anything out loud but being a part of the Union meant risking your life every day because the stakes were higher than random fights at school or in the streets of Seoul.

And yet, Wolf said what he said. That he was never your friend and was obeying Donald’s orders. What if it was all true, in the end? Because Wolf had proven to be manipulative when it could benefit him or the Union.

Your world came crashing down with the first light rain drops falling on the ground. Even if Wolf’s words were lies —you could still hope all of this was just a nightmare, they hurt. Next to this, a few punches in the face would feel nice and comforting.

Wolf didn’t like you back and chose to spit hatred at your face instead.

A feeling of rage melted with the pain and sorrow. Tears were threatening to fill your eyes but you couldn’t cry now. Not in front of him.

You glare at him, "There was no need to talk to me like that."

Wolf’s eyes twitch again. He has seen you glaring at people in the past. He has seen you seething harsh words at people. But never at him. You were always nice, a bit playful, mostly attentive and caring, even in the smallest of actions.

Now, you’re looking at him like he is an enemy.

"You could’ve just said you didn’t like me back."

But he can hear the way your voice slightly breaks, he can see your eyes glistening.

You turn around, not waiting to see if he wants to reply, and walk away. He’s said enough, ripping your heart in half. He won the fight and you choose to process the defeat far away from him.

. . .

You think the warning of rain in the sky was actually a warning for rain in your heart. Because the clouds are shyly dropping cold beads of water on the pavement but not enough to need an umbrella.

No, the real rain comes from your heart and flows through your eyes. No matter how hard you try to stop the tears, they just keep coming, over and over again.

You feel so weak, so stupid to have ever thought confessing to Wolf was a great idea. You were expecting a rejection. But this one was harsh. So harsh that your friendship with him was thrown in the flames, burning into ashes spread around by the wind.

Until nothing was left anymore.

You replay your friendship with him as you walk down the streets. All those nights he came to your place, climbing into your bedroom with drinks and snacks, lying down on your bed with a book in his hands. The nights you would patch him up after a fight, cleaning his wounds and cursing him for fighting endlessly. The times you would open your bag in school to find a new book in it with a note inside, Wolf would buy those he thought you’d like.

Was it always fake on his part? Was it just part of Donald’s plan to get you in the Union? What if Donald had promised a huge load of money to Wolf if he ever got you to join? After all, those small actions just meant he knew you well, understood what you liked and what you needed to be trustful.

Maybe it was always fake, you think as a whimper inevitably escapes your lips.

"Hey, pretty, why’re you crying?"

You stop at the masculine voice. Who dares speak to you when you are literally going through a heartbreak? You really don’t have the strength to snap at anyone right now.

"Come here, baby," the man says again. "I promise you’ll be the happiest girl when I take care of you."

You don’t even look at the man, ignoring the alarming sirens that boom in your head when you hear the laughters of two other men.

Nothing will happen to you if you just keep walking. These men just like to mess with girls because they need a distraction. Also because they are incredibly stupid. Who thinks hitting on a woman in the street is going to get them anywhere?

You start walking again but the man calls out for you again, "Hey, hey!" Next thing you know, he is standing in front of you.

He is tall, extremely tall, very muscular and carries a disturbingly large smile on his face. Your heart slightly drops in your chest. You know you’re a great fighter but he appears way too strong.

His two friends pop up behind him, sporting equally disturbing smiles as they eye you up and down.

"We’re going to a club, you should come," the first man says. "I promise you won’t be crying no more if you hang out with us."

Rage bubbles in your chest again. Does it look like you want to go to a club with a bunch of strangers? You just want to cry in peace.

"Leave me alone."

The three men share an intrigued glance and the tallest one claps his hands, "Feisty, I like it."

Oh god, they aren’t giving up, you think. You just want to go home, you don’t know what else you have to do to show them you aren’t interested by them.

"I want you even more now," he says, his fingers wiping the dried tears on your cheek.

The physical contact is so sudden, so unexpected, that you freeze on the ground. Did he just touch you? Did he really just do that?

Your fighting style has always been completely different than Wolf’s. Wolf goes straight into it, punching and kicking with all his will, definitely not scared of what his opponent might strike him with.

You, on the other hand, like to think things through. You rarely hit first because it is often the weakest strategy. Instead, you like to let your opponent throw the first punches, dodging them so it gives you enough time to analyze their fighting style.

But that man just touched you. He laid his fingers on your face, stroking your skin as if you belonged to him. He may look stronger but you are enraged, mind clouded with tears and pain.

Fuck strategies, you don’t even think before pushing his hand away and slapping him across the face with all your strength.

The blow is so strong the man stumbles on his own feet and the sizzling sound of your palm colliding with his cheek bounces against the walls.

You can leave now. They learned their lesson.

Or maybe not.

You’re thrown into a dark alley a few seconds later.

For ten minutes, you try to fight back as much as you can. But your first observation was the right one, they are stronger than you. And your mind is too out of it. You didn’t want to fight tonight, that wasn’t your plan.

You just wanted to confess to your best friend, when you still hoped he would confess as well.

Now, you’re scarred, face and knuckles seeping with blood, slightly limping and latching your fingers on the ripped hem of your top.

You don’t notice Jake, Dean and Timothy drinking in front of a convenience store when you walk past them.

They see you, though. And they are quick to understand that the three boys who walked away a few minutes earlier, spitting insults about a girl as they grunted in pain —one of them holding onto his arm as he had a visibly dislocated shoulder, were talking about you.

"Damn, she can really fight," Dean says as they watch you disappear around the corner.

"She isn’t first in the girls’ Shuttle Patch for nothing," Timothy notes.

. . .

You didn’t go to school for three days after that incident. Your parents saw the state you were in and didn’t even try to fight you. They didn’t know what to do with you anyways.

Your body was aching but it was nothing compared to the pain in your chest. Your mind was playing games with you, constantly flashing images of Wolf, reminding you of his last words and the disdain in his eyes.

How long will it take for you to move on? It is impossible to tell. But, with each awake second, the pain is growing, choking you with tears.

Wolf didn’t listen to a word Donald said during the meeting. He didn’t see you for three days, nor did anyone see you at school.

He recalled what happened almost two weeks ago.

Wolf was perched on the roof of Ganghak, waiting for Hwangmo. Looking down, he saw you walking out of the school as your eyes scanned your surroundings. He noticed the way you shoulders lowered when you checked your phone.

You didn’t need to know what he was doing.

When Hwangmo finally showed up on the roof, Wolf didn’t waste a second and pulled out his phone.

"See this number?" Wolf gestured for the unknown contact. "I want you to find who they are."

Hwangmo nodded, typing down the contact on his phone. But he was unsettled. Why did Wolf need help for that? If he had issues with someone, Wolf never hesitated to go give them a beating. What was different this time?

"What’s with them?"

Wolf let out a sigh, locking his phone before his eyes could look at the texts sent by that unknown number.

"They’re threatening (Y/N)."

And that is why he rejected you that night. He didn’t think before the worst words escaped his mouth. Because he knew exactly what to say to make sure you would turn around and not look back.

He considered telling you what was going on. Multiple times. After all, you worked as a pair. But he didn’t because they were trying to get to him. Warning you would have only caused a bigger issue. He knew you could fight back, he just didn’t know what these people were capable of.

If they had been threatening him, Wolf wouldn’t have cared one bit. You, it was different. So he pushed you away, thinking it could be the solution to make sure nothing would happen to you.

"Hey, do you know who these guys were?"

Wolf blinks, pulled out of his thoughts by Jake’s voice. He grimaces at him, "What’re you talking about?"

"Those who attacked (Y/N)."

The world spins when Wolf understands why you didn’t come to school for three days. Were you attacked
 No, Wolf couldn’t think it had happened right after the last time he saw you.

Jake awkwardly scratches the back of his head, "Is there trouble in paradise between you two? She
 didn’t tell you?"

Wolf doesn’t say anything about Jake’s innuendo. Most of the people in the Union —or who knows you and Wolf, think you have been dating for a while now. Wolf never minded and even less tried to correct anyone. He liked to know nobody would try to flirt with you. It took him some time to understand why he liked that people stayed away from you.

No, Wolf is fuming when his eyes land on Jake, "When and where? How many were they?"

. . .

You’re a great fighter and you’re used to the bruises and cuts but you can’t help the grunt out of your throat when you have to lift the heavy trash bag to throw it into the container of your building.

Dragging your feet onto the pavement, you just want to go back into your house and lock yourself in your bedroom. You’ve been binge watching animes for the last four days and you don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

You stop dead in your tracks when you spot Wolf outside of your house, leaning against your bedroom window. For how long has he been here? You walked out just two minutes ago to take out the trash. You should have heard his bike.

But, then, you notice his appearance. His hair is messier than usual, his eyes glazed and skin covered in blood, lower lip busted, scratch on his cheek and knuckles. He just got out of a fight, you think.

If he wants you to take care of him, he can go fuck himself. What the hell is he doing here in the first place, has he lost his mind? Did he forget what he told you last time?

Whatever, I just have to walk past him, you tell yourself.

Wolf, on the other hand, is taking in your appearance. You’re wearing your « lazy » pajamas, as you like to call them. An oversized tshirt and shorts. He’s seen you in those a lot. Big bags under your eyes, Wolf knows it means you didn’t sleep much these past few days.

And then he sees the bruises. All over your arms, some on your legs, but the worst one is around your neck. These bastards choked you, Wolf knows.

Your eyes gaze past him and you start walking with your heart thudding in your chest. Just a few steps and you will be inside your house. Just a few steps and you can pretend he was never there in the first place.

Wolf stands up and blocks the way, standing in front of you.

"Move."

Wolf doesn’t budge, instead pointing a finger at you, "What’s this?"

"Makeup," you snark, finally letting your eyes connect with his. "I’m considering a career in special effects."

His jaw clenches at your sarcastic tone, that is something he’s always liked. Not now, though.

"Now, if you’ll excuse me," you say as you step aside to walk past him, "I have stuff to do."

Wolf pulls you back by the wrist and you hiss in pain, terror flashing in your eyes when you notice Wolf’s cold gaze on you, "You thought I wouldn’t find out?"

You yank your wrist away, "What the fuck do you want, Wolf?"

Silence settles between you both. You see the same expression on Wolf’s face, the one he carried when you confessed. The one you didn’t understand. But, honestly, you’re done with him. What brings him here?

"Can’t you just let me be?" you rage. "Didn’t you do enough last time? Wanna go at it again?"

"You’re so fucking dumb sometimes, Y/N."

That’s when you lose it. For the second time this week, you attack first. How dare he call you dumb when you’re just
 sad and confused?

Wolf, who’s good at predicting when and where people will hit, is struck by lightning when your palm comes in contact with his cheek. He had never experienced your strength. Now he knows why you’re so good at fighting.

In the blink of an eye, you’re pressed against a wall with Wolf’s hands on your shoulders.

"How dare you call me dumb?" you growl, desperately trying to push him away. But he is too strong. "Why are you here? What’s your fucking problem!"

Wolf doesn’t express feelings often. Besides anger. That he knows how to express. It’s easy, all he has to do is count to three. You, on the other hand, bring other feelings into action. Feelings he doesn’t understand himself.

But seeing how determined you are to get out of his grasp, you who’s always so keen to be gentle to him, is enraging.

He snaps, "I didn’t fucking mean what I said last time!"

Your heart stops at his words but isn’t it too late now? You relax against his hands but a snicker fills the silence, "Right, of fucking course."

Wolf blinks in confusion, you’re smirking and rolling your eyes at him. You’re
 making fun of him.

The surprise causes him to relax his grasp and you slightly push him away, "You can go fuck yourself, Wolf."

He won’t let you go away so easily. No, instead, he pushes you back against the wall and you barely have time to understand what’s happening that you feel one of his arms wrapping around your waist and one of his hands resting against your cheek.

Your heart jumps to your throat and you gasp when he crashes his lips on yours.

His lips are chapped and you can taste the blood on the tip of your tongue but you can’t help but melt into his embrace. You hum against him, using one hand to pull him even closer by the collar of his shirt as you let your other hand grab his hair.

He groans into your mouth, kissing you more feverishly, tightening his grasp on your waist. You know you’ll have a bruise shaped like his fingers tomorrow morning.

It feels so good, you don’t want this moment to ever stop. There is a clear fight for dominance as your lips clash and you bite his lower lip, pulling on the flesh. He kisses you harder after that.

Wolf is kissing you, you’re kissing him. It feels so good but, then, his words echoe in your brain.

"I hang out with you because Donald wants you in the Union. Not because I want to."

Wolf breathes into your neck, biting the skin under your ear before licking his mark.

"I don’t need friends, even less a girlfriend."

He is kissing your collarbone, you shiver and your heart flips in your chest. It feels so good to have him like that, you wrapped around him as he touches you in places you’ve fantasized about for way too long.

But you push him away.

He looks at you in confusion and you don’t linger on his lips, they’re swollen and you don’t want the memory to ever be engraved in your mind.

"I
 You can’t be doing that," you pant with trembling lips. "Maybe you didn’t mean what you said but I can’t fucking forget those words."

You walk back into your house before Wolf even has time to understand what just happened.

. . .

For the next two weeks, you barely cross paths with Wolf.

Well, you try not to but it’s like he is everywhere you are.

First, he attends more classes. You wouldn’t go as far as to say he is here every day of the week. But you notice the surprise on your teachers faces when they spot his purple hair in the classroom more and more over the past two weeks.

He tends to go more to the cafeteria as well, followed by Hwangmo and Hayden.

Next thing you know, the whole school whispers about you two in the hallways. Because you are seen in the same place but never together. The rumors of a potential breakup —wait did they really think we were dating?, keep everyone on the edge of their seat but you pretend not to hear a thing.

And when you are out with friends, you know he is somewhere amongst the crowd. You never try to look for him but it’s like your eyes can’t help but fall on him.

Because a part of you misses him. Those past two weeks stretched to feel like an eternity. The memories of Wolf definitely hold a sour taste now —mixed with the pain inflicted, but your heart still flutters at the simple thought of him.

You can’t erase his arm around your waist, his lips on yours, kissing you like you provided him with oxygen, unlocking a new addiction.

You check your reflection in the mirror one last time, fixing the strap of your dress and you leave your house. You planned to go out for drinks with your girl friends, knowing just the bar that would let you all in.

The owner greets you warmly when you walk in and your nostrils flare at the smell of alcohol mixed with sweat and strong cologne.

You lean towards the bar and fist bumps the owner as she speaks, pointing a finger to her left, "Wolf’s already there!"

A dragged sigh escapes your lips when you see Wolf sitting on a stool, carelessly toying with his drink. Your friends grimace at your sudden blank face and they shake their heads when you sprint towards the purple haired boy.

Wolf turns around when someone taps his shoulder. He bats his eyelashes a little faster, eyeing you up and down.

"Can you stop being everywhere I go?"

His eyes linger where your dress stops, mid thigh, and he gulps. He still carries his usual smug, though, and you’re too annoyed to notice the effect you have on him.

He licks his lips as he makes eye contact with you, "Princess dress again, uh?"

He doesn’t have the right to give that type of look. That’s the type of thing that only happens in movies, the type of scene that would have you screaming in your pillow before you’d start internally complaining that this never happens in real life.

You want to punch that smirk off his face, "This isn’t funny, Wolf. You can’t erase everything by acting like a stalker."

What you don’t know, though, is that Wolf keeps an eye on you because the three boys who attacked you last time were not those who threatened to come after you.

He made the mistake to let you be by yourself once, he isn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

Wolf’s smirk vanishes and he blinks, "You’re pretty."

Suddenly, you don’t know how to breathe anymore. His voice had been soft, such a contrast compared to the last times you exchanged words with him. You want to believe him so bad. So bad.

Because you know Wolf can manipulate others but would he go that far? It was clear you wouldn’t join the Union anytime soon. Especially not after what had recently happened. And Wolf was smart enough to know that fixing your relationship wouldn’t change your mind on that.

Wolf can tell your mind is racing, he knows because you always do this thing with your eyebrows when you’re deep in thought. He wants to know what you think, hell, he wants you to stop thinking and start believing him.

He hates how you avoid him because you’ve always been such a safe person for him. Even he needs a break here and there. You were always there to provide that for him, even when he was fighting.

He tries to reach for your hand but you turn around and walk away, somewhere between anger and on the verge of tears.

"Let’s go," you deadpan, "I don’t wanna be here anymore."

"What?! No, come on, Y/N," Minji pouts.

"Please
 I don’t feel good."

Yujin raises an eyebrow, "Hey, we don’t know what happened between you and Wolf. You don’t have to say a thing about it if you don’t want to."

No, you don’t want to. Everything in your head is twisting and nothing makes sense anymore. How did things end up so terribly, anyway? If only you had kept your damn mouth shut, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

"There’s nothing to say, I just don’t know if anything with him was ever fucking real."

"Yo, stop acting like such a pick-me," Minji warned. "We hate those, remember?"

"Yeah, I don’t get why you think it wasn’t real?" Yujin says with a chuckle. "Wolf’s been obsessed with you forever."

"Preach!" Minji wooed, giving Yujin a high five. "I think you’ve been blind too long cause boy only ever had eyes for you." She looks away for a second before shivering, "It was a bit creepy at times, if I can be honest."

Yujin pushes you to the side, "Just go talk to him. Like talk for real."

The two girls push you even further and you know you’ll have no other choice but to confront him. But what is there to say? Can you two fix things?

Deep down, you’re terrified to forgive him but hold a tiny piece of grudge on the inside. Because that’s what could cause your relationship to break in the long run. Wouldn’t it be best to end things right now?

Your heart aches at the thought. Because you want things to get fixed. Hell, you’d rather go back to just being friends with him if it meant moving on from what had happened.

You take small steps, unsure of how to approach him now. Knowing Wolf, he could just laugh at your face for breaking so easily.

A woman is sitting next to him, leaning forward with the most flirtatious smile you have ever seen. The way your heartbeats speed is unmatched and you can feel yourself glaring at her from where you’re standing.

Wolf’s eyes flicker to you and you don’t waste a second, latching a hand around his wrist and tugging him away from there.

This time, you’re walking with a purpose and you roll your eyes when you hear Wolf snickering behind you. He can judge you all he wants, you’re walking out of this place with him.

You squint your eyes when the cold breeze hits your face but you don’t halt your footsteps, the streets are too crowded, you need to be alone with Wolf.

"Ah, where’s the princess taking me?"

"Shut up."

Wolf laughs a little louder, "Bossy, even with me."

Finally, you find the perfect place. An empty kids’ playground. Wolf raises his eyebrows when you drag him there. You release the grip you have on his wrist and point a finger at a swing, "Sit there."

Again, that is the first time Wolf experiences this side of you. He knows you have a tendency to dominate and that you like to feel in control of everything. The funny thing is, Wolf is like that too, but none of you ever tried to be in control of the friendship. As if you both naturally balanced each other out.

Usually, Wolf hates being told what to do. He doesn’t know why it does something different to him when it’s coming from you.

And it does something to you when Wolf sits down without batting an eye. Your mind wanders at the sight of him, oh how easy would it be to take just a few steps and lock your arms around his shoulders. He would lift his chin up to make eye contact and you would only have to lean in a little to feel his lips on yours again.

Oh god, just focus, you think. You cross your arms over your chest, "Explain yourself."

The smugness stretching his features is replaced by something more serious. His eyes leave yours and land on something random behind you as his breathing picks up. Just a little but it’s enough for you to notice.

You know it’s best for you to wait, Wolf isn’t one to talk much and you know you’re asking for a lot. But your mind runs wild with the possibilities.

"There’s nothing to explain."

Oh yeah, you should have expected that. Typical Wolf. You’re glaring, the words coming out sharply out of your mouth, "Why did you lie?"

Another beat of silence and you’re growing more fed up by the minute, "Did you even fucking lie?"

"You don’t need to know."

"Are you serious right now?!" you scoff and you groan when Wolf’s blank expression doesn’t budge. "I can’t fucking believe you, do I have to
 beg you?"

"Don’t bother," he deadpans, before a smirk tugs his lips. "As tempting as it sounds."

You ignore his last words, "Then why are you following me around?!" you ask in frustration. "Do you
 do you actually want us to be friends again?"

Wolf gives you an unimpressed look, "No."

You’re completely out of words, what is wrong with him. Is he serious right now?

"Y/N, I can’t kiss my friends."

You throw daggers at him with your eyes, "Stop, this isn’t funny."

"I’m not joking."

"I don’t believe you," you reply in a heartbeat. "One day you say you were never friends with me, now you say you want to kiss me. What am I supposed to believe, uh?"

Wolf is so done with you at this point. It was funny seeing you act stubborn for a few minutes, now he wants you to look at him. He leans forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him forcefully.

You gasp in surprise, forced to press your arms against in chest to avoid falling face first into him.

"Can’t you just believe what you see?" Wolf asks in a whisper.

Time stills when you finally look down and focus on him. Your heart skips a beat when his arms lock around your waist, securing your body against his. You could die for his eyes, the way they’re traveling between your eyes and your lips, twitching behind his glasses.

And you recall all those times you caught his eyes on you.

One day, you were stretching after PE class and Wolf was waiting for you on the bleachers because you had planned to ditch maths class afterwards. When you made eye contact, you barely noticed how his eyes twitched before he blinked.

Another day, you were reading in a park, enjoying the sunlight, when your attention was drawn to a couple walking their dog. Honestly, the dog was the cutest thing you’d seen all day and you were literally fawning over the little fur ball. You felt Wolf’s eyes on you and looked at him with the biggest smile on your face. Again, his eyes twitched.

One time, Wolf was at your house, sitting on your desk chair with a towel wrapped around his shoulders. You were reading the instructions on the box of hair dye. It was the first time you were doing this and your heart was hammering in your chest with fear. You really didn’t want to mess this up. You knew you were just touching up his roots but it still felt like an incredibly important task. When you looked at the mirror, Wolf’s eyes were already on you.

Maybe you’ve been blind all these years. Because it feels like you just put together all the pieces of the puzzle. You always wondered how Wolf was able to feel your eyes on him. Could it be because his own eyes were always settled on you?

Your friends words resonate, the rumors at school, the way strangers always looked at you both, how boys never dared to approach you.

Wolf is holding you so close it feels like your bodies could actually melt together. Your heart is racing and you can feel your stomach twisting and flipping around.

You have to kiss him now. If you don’t, you feel like you’ll run out of oxygen. So you do.

You press your lips against his and you fold when you feel Wolf kissing you back instantly. His hands tighten around your waist, grabbing you so strongly you wonder if his fingers didn’t just go through the fabric of your dress to burn your flesh.

Your lips move slowly, much slower than the first time you kissed, and you let the tip of your tongue touch his bottom lip. Wolf’s mouth slightly opens and a low grunts echoes into your mouth when you start playing with his hair.

This sound of his becomes your favorite, causing you to kiss him harder. Wolf picks up your pace, chasing your lips like a thirsty man.

His hand slowly travels down your body, sending shivers down your spine when his fingers brush against your ass before grabbing the back of your thigh.

You pull away from his lips with a gasp, eyes opened wide. You can already feel yourself blushing, his hand latched around your naked skin like that was where it always belonged.

Wolf’s eyes are half opened but you’re ready to lose all self control when he quite literally bites his lower lip at the sight of your swollen lips, "I really like that dress."

You’re full-on red at this point and you drop your head in the crook of his neck with a chuckle and you can feel him smiling.

You teasingly bump your nose against his when you finally look at him, heart jumping in your throat when Wolf leans forward, brushing your lips with the clear desire to kiss you again.

Fuck, he wants me that bad? you think before you give in, pressing your lips together for a few seconds.

A choked moan is swallowed by Wolf’s throat when you feel his thumb stroking your thigh and you pull away for good before it all becomes too much. You’re outside and he is touching like there is no tomorrow.

You scratch your throat and step back, missing the way Wolf is looking at you. You’re too busy fixing the strap of your dress and soothing the beating of your heart to see Wolf’s stunned eyes and partially opened mouth.

But you do see the way his eyes twitch when you finally make eye contact.

"Wanna go eat?" you offer with a tiny smile dangling on your lips.

He nods before he can even think to breathe.


Tags :
gojocp
9 months ago
Thumbnail of a RobTV video, a black man with a surprised expression captioned "Hold up! His writing is this fire?"
The title is edited to read "First time rereading your own writing after a while"

can't believe this incredible author has the exact same tastes as mine

gojocp
9 months ago
Me @ My Mutuals

me @ my mutuals

gojocp
10 months ago

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

gojocp
10 months ago

hey guys
its been so long
 😓😓


Tags :
gojocp
11 months ago

POV: you're looking for weak hero content

gojocp
11 months ago
Big Day For Annoying People (Suguru Stans)

Big day for annoying people (Suguru stans)

gojocp
1 year ago

prompts

Prompts

if one of the prompts is only dialogue, please tell me which genre you would like. also i'm not sure where these prompts r from i just found them on pinterest so pls lmk if u know the original poster.

Prompts

person A placing their hand on person B's forehead to check is they have a fever

person A scratching an itch that person B can't reach

person A wiping away person B's tears

person A giving person B a massage

person A drying off person B after they've had a shower or come in from the rain

person A lightly brushing person b's hair out of their eyes

person A whispering into person B's ear

person A and person B having a deep and vulnerable conversation

"i can't pretend anymore."

"you need to know that i have grown to care for you, deeply."

"i've loved you since the moment i first laid my eyes on you."

"you deserve to know."

"it's you. it's always been you."

"are you really so oblivious?"

"there isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you."

"i was made to love you."

"i cannot bare to be apart from you anymore."

"please. please just listen to me."

"don't make me say it. i can't say the words."

"you're all i think about."

"i cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it."

"i dream of you. all i do, is dream of you."

"i am so very in love with you."

"is it so obvious how infatuated i am?"

"for years i have yearned for you, in secrecy and silence."

"i know that this is not what you want to hear..."

"after everything you've done, i still love you. with all i am."

"i cannot stand you, and yet i also cannot stand to be away from you."

"please... say something."

"i feel your absence in everything that i do alone, in every place i go without you."

accidentally admitting that the other is really pretty, leading to both of them getting very flustered

quickly sewing back the loose button of their shirt that came off last minute, realising that you two are extremely close

pretending to be married for reasons, feeling very giddy whenever someone refers to you two as a couple

walking past a busy crown, hands entwining on their own and then realising it after someone points it out

rambling about something you both love and all you can do is stare at them lovingly, when suddenly they also turn to look at you and now you're both just staring at each other

making lucky charms for each other, being reminded of the other whenever they look at it

fixing each other's clothes

learning more about their interests so they have a common thing to talk about

thinking that the other doesn't like them in that way, while their friends watch both of them become an incoherent mess in front of each other, wondering when they'll finally ask each other out

hugs that last a little longer than they should

immediately looking at the other after telling/doing something funny in hope to see their smile

making playlists and mood boards for the other

continuously denying others who think they are together

"no we are not together!! .... at least not yet..."

trying to know little things about them by observing

always giving the utmost attention to the other if they are in a crown

associating random things with them

getting matching key rings

hanging out together often

person A falling asleep on person B's shoulder/chest/lap and person B really needs to get up but doesn't want to wake person A

person A falling asleep during a car ride home, person B carrying them into the house

person A and person B sleeping in the same bed and person A keeps waking up cold because person B keeps hogging the blankets

person A singing a lullaby for person B

"i like the way your hand fits in mine"

"you don't need to leave so soon"

"you're a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly"

"wait, don't pull away... not yet"


Tags :
gojocp
1 year ago

this was amazing wtf

national anthem - gojo satoru

National Anthem - Gojo Satoru

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

word count: 12.2k warnings: mentions of drinking and smoking (cigarettes + weed) summary: you're a special grade? with no life experience? someone like you sure is lucky gojo satoru wants to take you under his wing and show you how to enjoy life. gojo satoru sure is lucky that someone like you teaches him how to love. more info: set in 2006, friends to lovers, gojo sort of wants to corrupt reader but he's too soft on her, he's an overconfident coward in this idk you figure it out

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

[ i’m your national anthem, god you’re so handsome, take me to the hamptons, bugatti, veyron // he loves to romance ‘em reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon // he says to be cool but, i don’t know how yet // wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck ]

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

Two Special Grade Sorcerers in one place was already a fight for territory and ego- at least to Gojo Satoru.  Geto Suguru never really felt a push to prove himself, but his white haired counterpart seemed to enjoy a good ol’ fashion pissing competition, so when Satoru felt like being competitive, he often just went along with it.  Besides, there was a certain entertainment in watching him lose.  Satoru would tell anyone that he didn’t feel threatened around Suguru- or Yuki, when she was around- but there was an undeniable flicker of excitement in his eye when an opportunity came along to show off.

A show off, that was the perfect description for the first impression (y/n) got when she first met the infamous Six Eyes.  She wasn’t sure what to expect arriving at Jujutsu Tech on that sunny afternoon in 2006.  The mixture of giddiness and unease from picking everything up and starting life over at the ripe age of eighteen had her insides all fluttery, but she was fairly certain her excitement outweighed all else.

The manager who’d picked her up from the train station and drove her to her new home had given her a short introduction to the other sorcerers her age, but nothing could’ve prepared her for the whirlwind of their first official meeting.

“So you’re the new Special Grade meat!” 

She’s startled as soon as she approaches the group of three.  She’d been all smiles, ready to hold out her hand and introduce herself properly, but it appeared they’d already known all about her.

“Shut up Satoru, you sound like a douchebag,” The dark haired sorcerer beside the loud one shouldered past, reaching out to be the first to shake her hand.  (y/n) still has a bewildered look on her face as she reciprocates, confusedly glancing between the two.  “Don’t mind him, he’s always like that.  I’m Geto, but everyone calls me Suguru anyways, so you can too” 

“Alright,” She says through an airy laugh.  “Then I’m (y/n)... the Special Grade meat”

Suguru shares the laugh as he drops his hand, and suddenly the white haired one is darting forward, pushing him aside just as he’d done to him moments ago, and grabbing (y/n’s) hand before she could fully lower it.  Her eyes are wide, every instinct telling her to take three steps back, but she lets him shake it at a wild pace.  

The cursed energy that comes off of him in waves hits her like a truck, solid, undeniable, strength.  Reason tells her that he could end her life with his handshake alone.  The goofy, shit eating grin on his face tells her otherwise.

“Gojo Satoru!” He introduces, still shaking her hand.  “But you already knew that, right?” 

Wordlessly, she shakes her head at him, curiosity striking her the longer she took him in.  A show off for sure, with the volume of his voice despite being right in front of her, with the performance in his ongoing handshake, with that stupid smile he hadn’t wiped off his face yet, with all that cursed energy- Gojo Satoru was a sight to behold and he knew it, too.

Back home it would’ve ticked her off, but for some reason, there’s a compulsion to her amusement in him.  Slowly, her bewildered expression morphs into one of pleasant surprise.

“Can’t say I had the slightest idea,” She replies, and that seems to do the trick to get his smile to falter, even momentarily.  Technically, she knew of him, only because of the manager’s due diligence in giving her the names of her new colleagues, but she wasn’t about to treat him to that information.  “But I do now,” Her smile brightens, “You’re the guy with the white hair” 

He scoffs at first, not out of disgust or annoyance, but pure surprise at the genuine response.  The two behind him, Suguru, and the girl she hadn’t met quite yet, Ieiri Shoko, were nearly doubled over in laughter.  Loud cackles that echoed across the courtyard they stood in.  (y/n) merely held her polite smile as she waited for Gojo Satoru’s full reaction.

His shit eating grin softened into a more authentic smile, amusement casted over his features as he gazed down at her through his lenses.  He didn’t need his Six Eyes to tell him she was strong, her own cursed energy seemed to buzz and crackle right off of her like electricity.  As if she’d been gathering up static for so long and it was dying to leap right out of her.  It would be overwhelming, if he wasn’t the sorcerer he was.

“Always noticed for my looks first,” He sighs dramatically, and (y/n) raises a brow at him, slightly amused, slightly intrigued.  “But I guess we’ll have that in common, huh, Special Grade?”

Before she’s given any real time to react, or even process what he’s said, he’s interrupted. 

“Alright, that’s enough of you, you’re making us all look bad now,” 

The third sorcerer with the lab coat and an unlit cigarette in her hands is the next to leap forward, grabbing Gojo Satoru by the elbow and forcibly yanking until he gives in and drags his feet back to Suguru.  (y/n) watches as he mutters under his breath and makes wild hand gestures to Suguru- who seems to roll his eyes and remain otherwise unresponsive.

“You won’t get used to him, so get used to knowing that now,” The girl says, capturing (y/n’s) attention.  “I’m Shoko, I’ll be your best friend here, alright? Don’t let him get too comfortable” 

(y/n) giggles, introducing herself yet again with a shy fit of laughter.

“Seems like he gets comfortable pretty quick,” She muses, casting a glance over to where Suguru was trying to drag his friend away.  He didn’t seem to be winning that fight, and it wasn’t long before Gojo was going boneless against him.  “So, small class size, huh?” 

“Yeah, well, not a lot of jujutsu sorcerers out there,” Shoko shrugs.  “And
 we had a few transfers to Kyoto.  Which were totally not due to that idiot” She adds the second part under her breath, but when (y/n) laughs, she does too.

“Well, I’ll try not to transfer, then” 

Shoko brightens, just a little bit, but enough to be noticed.

(y/n’s) sure she’ll stay true to her word.  Besides, it had seemed like her time at Jujustu Tech would prove to be interesting
 maybe even fun.

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

The smell of tobacco wasn’t pleasant, but she tries to put up with it for the sake of Suguru and Shoko.  It appeared that the most exciting part of their night was sharing a smoke by Shoko’s window, as they’d visibly relaxed once they’d sparked up.

It didn't matter that (y/n) didn’t voice her discomfort, because Gojo Satoru could see it written all over her.  The way her eyes widened when Shoko had pulled out the pack, the way her nose crinkled when Suguru lit the first cig, and even now, how she can’t stop anxiously glancing over to the two of them as they smoked.

“You’re not a smoker, huh?” 

She’d been sitting against the wall, a mostly forgotten magazine in her lap when Gojo had approached her, crouching down to her level to properly gain her attention.

“Huh?” She’s lost at first, but it only takes a short nod of his head towards the window for her mind to catch up.  “Oh, um, I guess I’ve never really smoked before, but, no, I’m not a smoker”

It’s unexplainable, the way she stammers over her explanation like it’s a lie.  Because it’s the complete truth.  She’d never smoked a cigarette in her life, and she’d never been around anyone who did.  The smell was only familiar because of how often it wafted amongst the streets, but it was always unpleasant.  Trying it for herself had never really crossed her mind.

“You’ve never tried it?” Gojo tilts his head curiously, and for a moment she thinks he resembles a cat, but before she could tell him the connection, he’s standing up again and striding over to the window.

She can only watch as he swipes the pack of cigarettes from between the two, scowling when he pops open the box.

“Did you buy this yesterday?” He scoffs, plucking out one of the sticks before tossing it back at Suguru, who catches it with ease, but frowns back at the white haired sorcerer.  “Jeez, addicts much?” 

“Relax, Satoru” Suguru rolls his eyes just as Gojo snatches the lighter off the windowsill as well.  It earns him another glare, but neither Suguru or Shoko comment on it, instead returning to whatever conversation they’d been having before Gojo had so rudely interrupted them.

It’s not until he’s returning to her spot on the floor and taking a seat beside her that she realizes why he’s done this.

“Here ya are,” He grins, holding the items out to her in both hands.  (y/n’s) eyes wander between the two, the cancer stick in his left hand, the hot pink lighter in his right, before looking up at him and shaking her head.  “What, you don’t wanna try it?”

“I just
 I mean
” She struggles to give him a proper reason.  She doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, because she couldn’t care less what other people chose to do, but she wasn’t about to lie to him and say she was ecstatic to get a taste of the thing she knows is bad for her.  “I don’t think I’d like it
” 

“Well, that’s alright,” Gojo chuckles as he shrugs his shoulders.  “I hate it.  It’s nasty,” 

He goes so far as to stick his tongue out towards the window, where Shoko had clearly overheard his less-than-quiet comment.  She returns the favor, but Gojo’s already turned back to (y/n).

“It reeks.  And it burns a bit.  And honestly? I’d rather spend the money on mochi,” He tells her honestly, and it earns him a giggle, so he smiles a little wider.  “But you deserve to at least try it, right?” He asks, wiggling the lighter at her.  “Just to say you did it?” 

“I’m not really wired that way,” She admits, her laughter turning nervous, but nonetheless, she finds herself plucking the lighter from his fingers.  “Why try something I know I’ll hate?” She asks, and generally, it’s a rhetorical question, but Gojo’s answer does have her curious.

“Because,” He shrugs again.  “Trying new things is the fun part,” He suggests, before adding, “And just because you can” 

Her eyes drift down to the pink lighter in her hand.  She rolls it over between her fingers a few times, fiddling with it as the idea settles in her mind.  She gets lost enough in thought that she doesn’t even realize how fluidly she’s twirling the small object between her fingers like it was a trick of misdirection, but Gojo finds amusement in how easily and quickly she’s able to maneuver it about the back of her knuckles.

“I can’t say I have an argument for that,” She tells him finally, turning to him with a small smile, and her hand outstretched.  “But when I hate it, you can’t be mad” 

He doesn’t place the cigarette in her palm like she’s expecting, instead raising it towards her lips, flicking it slightly to prompt her to open her mouth.

“Don’t bite down too hard, you’ll ruin it,” He instructs.  She blinks at him in surprise, but follows along anyways and parts his lips so he could set it between them.  She keeps her hold on it as light as possible.  “And the taste of tobacco is awful,” He adds in a quieter voice.

She tries not to think about how close he sits to her, or how his fingers brush over her bottom lip and then her chin as he places the cigarette between her lips, but the harder she tries not to think about it, the more he thinks about it.

“Want me to light it for you?” He asks, and now he’s the one to hold his palm out to her.

Too nervous to speak with the cig in her mouth, she gives him a small nod, and places the lighter back in his hand.  He grins when her fingers drag over his before she pulls her hand away.

“Alright, don’t overthink it,” He says, leaning forward a little closer with the lighter in hand.  “I’ll light it, and all you gotta do is breathe in.  Not too harsh, just a little inhale, got it?” 

She shrugs and nods, certain she could understand the complexities of smoking a cigarette, but she had a feeling that Gojo Satoru liked knowing what to do, and showing her what to do, so she let him.  It couldn’t hurt, right? If she fed his ego just a little bit? 

With a flick of his thumb a small flame erupts, and soon the end of the cigarette is burning.  Just as he said, she takes in a short breath, just enough to feel the smoke touch her lungs.

Her eyes meet his when he pulls the lighter away, but he stays sitting closely in front of her.  Even through the dark lenses he always kept perched on his nose she could tell that he was eager to watch her reaction.

She rips the stick from her mouth and coughs, and even once all the smoke is expelled, she sticks her tongue out with the desire to rid her mouth of the terrible flavor.  

Gojo chuckles quietly, taking the cigarette from between her fingers as he stands up for a moment.  He’s sitting again just a second later, passing her a bottle of water that she takes and chugs down greedily.  He’s still laughing when he passes the cigarette to the window dwellers.

“So you were right, huh?” He asks her after she’s got half the water down.

She nods back at him, taking a few more gulps to soothe the ache in her chest from her own coughing.

“But at least you tried it?” 

Finally pulling the bottle away, she turns to face him again.  Her brows are pinched together with annoyance, but there’s a flicker of a smile on her lips that Satoru can’t ignore.  It makes his heart beat at a disastrously wild pace. It makes him grin.

“Oh, I’ll be telling everyone you peer pressured me,” She tells him assuredly, to which he scoffs, but before he could argue, she continues.  “But
 at least I tried it” 

The momentary defensive stature he’d taken relaxes just as quickly, and he even laughs a bit.

“Atta girl, Special Grade,” He teases.  “That’s the spirit” 

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling as she picks up her magazine and settles back against the wall in a comfortable position.  Gojo doesn’t have much interest in fashion, but he sits beside her and follows along as she flips through it anyways.  

She supposes it’s because he has no interest in smoking with the others, that this was the better option.  He supposes it’s just because her shampoo smelled so light and fruity that he wouldn’t mind lingering around just a bit longer.

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

[gojo s.] are you up?? 1:46 a.m.

[y/n] it’s almost 2. 1:47 a.m.

[gojo s.] fast response! so ur wide awake! :D 1:47 a.m.

[gojo s.] put on something warm and come to the window 1:48 a.m.

Gawking at her phone, (y/n’s) sure this is just some kind of stupid joke.  There was no way if she peeked out her window now that Gojo Satoru would be standing out there.  This late at night? On a Tuesday? They had training tomorrow bright and early- and wasn’t there a curfew?

She’s not sure what comes over her when she actually shuffles out of her warm covers and tiptoes over to the window.  Peeking through the curtain just to be sure wouldn’t hurt, right? 

Sure enough, when she pulls the curtain aside just enough to look outside, Gojo Satoru is standing out there.  He must’ve been expecting her to check, because he’s looking straight at her, grinning from ear to ear before he waves.

(y/n) shuts the curtain and snatches her phone off the bed.  Just as she begins to furiously type, she’s getting an incoming call.  With a huff, she answers it and brings the phone to her ear.

“Gojo Satoru, what the hell are you doing outside my-” 

“I knew you’d be down!” He’s shouting before she could finish her scolding, and (y/n) winces as she tilts the speaker of her phone away from her ear to relieve the ringing he’d caused.  “Get dressed and hop on out!” 

“Hop on out-? What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t you wanna go do something fun?” 

“Right now?” She lets out a humorless laugh.  “Gojo, it’s the middle of the night, I’ve been trying to sleep” 

“I can’t sleep either,” He replies, completely missing the point, but it’s only then that she starts to hear him out.  “I need a midnight snack,” He adds, this time his voice filled with it’s usual syrupy level of glee.  “I’m sure it’d help you, too!” 

It’s a ridiculous idea.  She had training in about five hours from now, and so far tonight she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.  Gojo Satoru might’ve been all powerful, but that didn’t mean he had power over her, he couldn’t just make her go because he wanted a snack and company to go along with it.  It would be incredibly easy to tell him no and hang up the phone, and it would keep her out of trouble, too.  A double win.

Yet, she’s at her dresser and pulling off her pajamas before she’s even given him a verbal response.

“I hear movement, are you getting dressed?” He asked her, full of hope and excitement.

“Yes,” She huffs as she gets into her uniform slacks.  They were the only pants she owned that weren’t pajamas- and there was no way she was going out in the middle of the night with Gojo Satoru in hello kitty pajamas.

After throwing her jacket over her tee shirt and buttoning it up enough, she crept back over to her window, pulling open the curtains properly, her phone still in her hand.

“Oh good-!” 

Before he could finish whatever he was saying, she snaps her phone shut and slides it into her back pocket.  She needed both hands to slide the window open, at least if she wanted to do it carefully enough that it didn’t creak and squeak when she did so.

Even from a story below, she can tell that Gojo is pouting at his own phone before he puts it away.  He seems to get over it once she’s got her window open and she’s swinging a leg out, though.

“Come on down, Juliet, I’ll catch you!” He hollers, louder than he should have.

(y/n) swings her other leg out, sitting on the window sill almost completely leaning out of the building.

“Move out of the way, Gojo” She hisses down at him, but he only extends his arms, waving his fingers at her to prompt her to come down already.

He’d been pacing around out here for the last forty-five minutes debating on texting her, so he was antsy to finally get going.

Giving up, (y/n) pushed off the window sill, and landed on her feet with ease and perfect balance seconds later.  She certainly didn’t need him to catch her, but he’s right in front of her anyways, hands settling on her shoulders as if she wasn’t standing before him in perfect condition.

“Good?” He asks, and he’s still grinning ear to ear, but it’s a little different.

She’s not sure how she didn’t notice before, but he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.  She could see the crinkles at the corners of his bright blue eyes when he smiled.  For a half a second, she could’ve gotten lost in the cerulean waves swirling in his irises.  His eyes were bright even in the dark, they practically gave the illusion of glowing.

“Yeah- yeah,” She chokes on her answer, and quickly averts her gaze before he could tease her for staring at him so blatantly.  “Let’s just get going, I don’t want to get caught” 

“I’d never get us caught,” Gojo scoffs, apparently offended that she could even think such a thing.  “Besides, you’ve got a clean track record, you’d probably get off easy anyways” 

She rolls her eyes at him as they start their trek off campus, but she can’t help the small smile of amusement on her face.  Gojo wasn’t wrong, she did have a squeaky clean record, which she’d proudly maintained since transferring here, but now


It wasn’t that she was aiming to rebel, she didn’t need to do anything crazy, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t live a little
 right? And what was one trip to a twenty-four hour convenience store in the grand scheme of things? 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re obnoxious?” She asks, but her voice betrays her with soft fondness, and it’s obvious that Gojo notices with the way he looks over at her with the largest, stupidest grin on his face.

“Never with a straight face,” He replies, only to laugh when he catches her smiling at him as soon as he looks at her.  She wants to roll her eyes again, but she doesn’t.  She just laughs with him and doesn’t argue.  “You can admit you like my company, I won’t tell anyone,” He adds, only partially teasing.  “”Promise” 

“You better keep that promise,” (y/n) mutters back.  “For whatever her odd reason, Shoko thinks I’m cool, and I’d like to keep that status” 

“That’s because you perform your twisted little cursed technique on her every time she asks,” Gojo says.  “Shoko’s got an obsession with the occult, and you are certainly all things occult” 

The corner of her lips tilt into a smirk.  She wouldn’t necessarily agree, but he wasn’t wrong about her cursed technique.  With the ability to access anyone’s thread of fate- that little string hidden in their soul that keeps them alive as long as it’s intact- her cursed technique was a bit more involved than the other Special Grades’ she’d met thus far.  

It was gruesome when executed on an assignment, Gojo had seen it first hand only once.  With a plunge of her hand into a curse’s body she’d retrieve the thread, and rip it apart with both fists.  The curse was exorcized immediately and they called it a day sooner than expected.

Shoko, however, enjoyed seeing it the way anyone liked a party trick.  She’d clasp her hands together and beg for (y/n) to open up her soul for her.  All of her hours spent in the morgue and the lab might’ve been warping her curiosity, but she was always delighted when cursed energy would encase (y/n’s) hand and she’d reach right into her body as if she phased right through the skin and bones, before retrieving that solid black thread.

“Are you saying that I’m not cool?” (y/n) asks Gojo suddenly, and she’s only messing with him, but he backtracks instantly.

“I never said that!” He shouts, his voice echoing over the empty path they walked into town.  “You’re easily the coolest person I’ve ever met, (y/l/n) (y/n).  You put the special in Special Grade for sure!” 

That has her rolling her eyes again, even though she’s laughing at the stupid line.

“There are more interesting qualities about you than a cursed technique, that’s all,”

The sudden genuine comment has her laughter fading and a look of quiet surprise overtaking her features when she looks back at him.  He’s already staring at her, with that stupid grin and his prying eyes that seemed a little softer now.  He had these moments often, where in the midst of his teasing and nonsense, he’d say something so deeply real, and she knew it, that it would practically knock the wind out of her.  Like right now, where all she can do is stare at him and wait for him to say something else.

“Like, yeah, I have the Six Eyes and I’m mastering Infinity and sure, I suppose I am the strongest being on this earth, maybe ever,” He starts to ramble, and (y/n) can practically feel the idiot comment making it’s way out.  “But I’m more than that.  I’m also
 really handsome,” 

She snorts, before a short burst of giggles follows and she shakes her head.  Just as expected, Gojo Satoru will always bury the real feelings under the perfectly tailored facade.

“What? It’s true!” He barks in offense when she laughs.  “I’m ridiculously handsome- it’s almost too much hotness for one man to carry alone!” 

“Uh-huh” 

“So you agree? I’m ridiculously handsome?” He grins like he actually caught her in something, and she laughs again.

“I didn’t say that,” But she didn’t exactly deny it either, did she? “But more importantly, you’re ridiculously rich, and you’re buying me mochi, too” 

And just like him, she’ll bury the budding sparks of feelings she doesn’t want to admit she has in order to preserve something more long lasting.  Friendship.  She’d never had friends like this before, people who understood her so deeply, people who took an interest in her even when their interests didn’t align.  Gojo Satoru especially took an interest, and she had a feeling he enjoyed making her push her limits, because she enjoyed letting him do it.

“Pfft, fine,” Satoru mutters in mock annoyance.  “Was jus’ gonna buy it anyways” 

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

After that, Gojo Satoru has a knack for getting (y/n) to sneak out of her dorm past curfew.  He wasn’t always dragging her off campus, oftentimes they’d just sit on the roof, or wander the courtyards, but there was the occasional midnight snack run that he’d insist on taking her on.  One time he insisted on showing her how he’d refined his technique, so she sat around for a good two hours while he just showed off.  This wasn’t necessarily out of character for him, so she sat and gave him her attention even though her time would’ve been much better spent sleeping.

Unfortunately, and unknown to him, the feelings that she was developing for him had started to accelerate.  It seemed that with every night he came to her window to pester her, her heart simply couldn’t feel irritation towards him.  Not that he couldn’t get under skin, it’s just that he managed to settle in there.  To the point where when she was away from him, she found herself counting down the time until she’d get to be near him again.

It was almost pathetic, when she really thought about it.  Missing the boisterous presence of Gojo Satoru was laughable.  At first she buried the idea, but she wasn’t one to live a life of denial, and no sooner than he could next drag her out in the middle of the night did she accept that she was actually falling for the Six Eyes user.  Their friends would poke fun at her if they knew- which they did, but this wasn’t due to her actually telling them.

But it was unable to be helped.  He always found a way to make her heart skip a beat before it picks up in pace.

“I think Nanami is a worthy sorcerer, I don’t have any problem with his company” She shrugs with her words, before leaning back on her elbows.  

The tiles of the roof weren’t the most comfortable to sit on, but they often found themselves lounging around there anyways.  Maybe it was because it was the perfect place to view the stars, or maybe conversation just seemed to come so much easier up there.

“It’s nothing to do with that,” Satoru mutters, a bitterness to his words that she didn’t often hear from him.  He was always overbearingly sweet or chipper with his speech.  Maybe it was the roof that brought on a sudden change in tone, or maybe it was because they were something he couldn’t hold back.  “You’re more than capable of taking that assignment alone.  You’re Special Grade.  You don’t need some first year- or anyone- to partner up with you,” 

Just as she’s about to open her mouth to come to Nanami Kento’s defense, she seals her lips tight.  It wasn’t about Nanami’s ability at all, she realized, as Gojo set his gaze firmly on the horizon.  It was about hers.

“The higher ups never want to admit when someone is stronger than them, probably ‘cause they’re scared we’ll overthrow them, or something,” He mumbles the last part, but (y/n) has a feeling there’s more feelings brewing beneath the surface of his bitterness.  “They want to morph into this strong
 thing
 but then as soon as you actually achieve their ridiculous expectations they’ll spend the rest of your life doing everything they can to remind you that you’re not
” He trails off for a moment, and even though he’s refusing to look at her, she can see emotion flickering in the corner of his eye.  He lets out a sigh before finishing his thought,  “... good enough”

(y/n’s) quiet as she lets it sink in.  She doesn’t want to speak too soon and lead him to assume she’d brushed off all he said, but before she could accurately voice her thoughts, he turns to her and releases an airy laugh.

His lips are curved into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and (y/n) can’t help but frown before he even says anything.

“I don’t think that came out right-” 

“No, it did,” She interrupts him gently.  She gives him a small nod of her head, understanding perfectly what he was saying.  It was a warning, but it was also a compliment to her abilities, and she wanted him to know that she appreciated it in it’s entirety.  Surprisingly, Satoru shuts his mouth.  “If taking on partnered assignments is what gets me through the rest of my time here, I’ll do it,” She explains, and she watches as his forced smile begins to crumple with disappointment.  “Besides, it’s good for Nanami to get the experience too, yeah?” She muses, but Satoru’s expression doesn’t flinch.  He doesn’t even blink.  “I have to fall somewhere in between being a good sorcerer and being a good upperclassman, too” 

“You’re already doing that,” He points out, almost rudely, but his adamance makes her heart stutter.  “You’re a Special Grade, and you already train and tutor the others, what more could possibly be asked of you?”

His upset is evident in his features, but the creases of his frown and pinched brows only deepen when (y/n) lets out a soft laugh.  It’s quiet, but genuine nonetheless.  She couldn’t help but find comfort and amusement in his determination.

“Sorry,” She murmurs when she realizes her laughter only fueled his irritation.  “I’m just amazed that Gojo Satoru is so worried about my reputation” 

“I’m not- (y/n), it’s about more than- ugh,” He huffs after he stumbles too much and loses sight of what he was really trying to say.  This time, (y/n) stifles her laughter behind sealed lips, but the slight movement in her shoulders still gives her away.  Satoru turns away again, his face growing warm as he finally mumbles in defeat, “I just don’t want them taking advantage of you, too” 

(y/n’s) smiling at him, although he can only sort of tell with his peripheral vision.  She leans forward and tilts her head, trying to get him to turn towards her again, but he refuses.  He can’t have her seeing the creeping blush on his face, after all.

“Thank you, Satoru” She tells him, and it’s the first time she’s called him by his forename alone- she tended to call him Gojo Satoru just to spite him- but hearing it now, spoken in such a small but genuine voice, it has him giving in and looking over at her so quickly it’s almost embarrassing to give her such a noticeable reaction.  His eyes are wide and his mouth is snapped shut, worried it’d go completely dry if he left it open.

Gojo Satoru is fairly certain he’s never experienced what falling in love felt like, but he’d never tried to seek it out, either.  He was content with his life, he felt as though he checked all the right boxes, with being born the strongest sorcerer, having the greatest friends in the world, he’d never really considered what having more would look like.

Right now, it looked like (y/e/c) eyes and a shy smile.

As suspected, his mouth goes dry when he opens it.

“You’re
 welcome” He answers slowly, and it’s a bit awkward but (y/n) doesn’t point it out.  She simply leans back on her arms again and turns her attention back towards the stars.

In a few minutes she’d strike up conversation again and they’d spend the rest of their night chatting aimlessly about nothing special in particular, but neither one wanted to be the first to alert the other of the time.  So they’d sit there until the sunrise would peek over the horizon, and slowly, but eventually, they’d sneak back into the building with tired goodbyes and plans to meet up with their friends during lunch like they always did.

Everything was exactly as it always was.  But it was undeniably different.

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

Satoru scoffs when Shoko tells him about a party she’d been invited to by a non-sorcerer she and (y/n) ran into while in town.  A non-sorcerer party sounds like the perfect way to waste an evening.  Although he won’t admit he feels relief that neither one of them actually planned on going, and he knows that (y/n) already tucked herself in her room for the night.  

She’s probably studying, he thinks to himself fondly.  It was a friday night, sure, she should be doing something fun with her evening, but he’d much rather have her here than out doing who knows what at some lame party.

“He was cute too, can’t believe she turned him down,” 

That little comment had him snapping back into conversation- he might’ve tuned Shoko out a bit when she started going on about the cashier giving her a hard time over her less-than-authentic ID for her smokes- but now all of his senses were tuned back into what she was saying.

Shoko rolls her eyes when his head swivels at super human speed.  She’s not offended that he’d so clearly been ignoring her, not when it’s so amusing that she brought him back to earth the only way she knew how- by praying on his jealousy and pride.  Oldest trick in the book, she smirked to herself.  She and Suguru had mastered this trick ages ago.

“Wonder why she’d do such a thing” She mutters in mock curiosity, before pulling out her new pack of cigarettes and sticking one between her lips.  Satoru narrows his eyes at her, picking up on the lack of subtlety.  It wasn’t often that he did so.

“You’re blaming me for (y/n) not being interested in some random non-sorcerer?” He laughs humorlessly at the notion, and Shoko mirrors it with a laugh of absolute humor.

“She’s your most favorite Special Grade, isn’t she?” She muses, plucking the cigarette from her lips to exhale the smoke in her lungs before she presses him again.  “If it weren’t for you, she’d be out living her life for once” 

“You’re acting like I keep her from doing anything-” 

“I’m not,” Shoko shrugs, her expression turning bored.  “I was actually trying to insinuate that she’d rather hang around here getting in trouble with you than doing, I don’t know, normal things.  Like parties.  And
 other things that happen at parties” She finishes with a smirk before she sticks the cigarette back in her mouth to puff some more.

Satoru flusters, not having a quick witted comment to come back at her with.  His silence is just as damning, however, and Shoko begins to laugh again, plumes of smoke puffing out as she does so.

“She’s probably never even been to a party,” She says, as if talking to herself, but Satoru’s well aware that she’s just luring him into her trap.  

Now, he’s not completely sure what that trap is, some sort of admission of guilt he assumes, but for what? 

“She’d probably love the scene.  Dancing, mingling.  Non-sorcerers would love her for sure.  She could do her whole ‘there is no god, only I control your fate’ thing, they’d eat that up” 

“She said that one time-” 

“Yeah, and it was badass,” Shoko cuts him off.  “I got chills and I wasn’t even there,” She pulls up the sleeve of her jacket then, chuckling when she finds the little hairs on her arms standing up.  “See? Chills” 

Satoru swats her arm out of his face when she shoves it in front of him.

“What are you getting at? Are you asking me to take her? I don’t want to go to a party with a bunch of strangers whose collective idea of a good time is alcohol poisoning and shitty music” 

“Harsh, Satoru, who’s got your panties in a bunch?” 

He could teleport away right now, before Suguru even completely approaches the two of them, but isn’t it all the more damning if he turns and runs? He doesn’t make a decision before Suguru has joined them at their usual table in the courtyard.  Shoko’s passing him a cigarette without any words exchanged.

“Guess” She speaks in monotone as she hands him her lighter.

“I’m leaving” Satoru finally decides, stuffing his hands in his pockets, surely about to stomp away.  The other two snicker between one another.

“Awe c’mon, don’t be like that, Satoru” Suguru calls, but he doesn’t try to chase down his sulking friend.

“When ya get to (y/n’s) can you remind her she still has my spare jacket?” Shoko hollers, which is followed by the sound of her and Suguru bursting into a fit of laughter.

Satoru warps with a huff before they could continue obnoxiously yelling at his back.  He barely wipes the scowl off his face before he’s knocking on the door he reappears at.

“It’s open!” Is called from inside, but he’s still cautious when he slides it open.

(y/n’s) at her desk, one earbud in her ear and one hanging in front of her.  She’s surrounded by piles of books and papers, not to mention the highlighter in her hand and the pen tucked above her ear.  She’d clearly been busy with her studies, but when she looks up to see who her visitor was, she picks up her iPod Shuffle and hits pause before she plucks the other bud out of her ear.

“What a surprise,” She greets him with a warm smile.  “To see you actually using the door, that is,” 

That cracks a smile on his unusually sour face, and (y/n) leans back in her chair, already forgetting the work in front of her as she takes him in.  Her arms cross over her chest as her brow furrows just a little bit.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Something has to be wrong for me to stop by?” He asks, leaning back into the doorway.  “Can’t I just be a good friend and come say hi?” 

She raises a brow at him.

“Hi” She says with a smile too sweet to be real, or at least he thinks.

Satoru rolls his eyes, but his own smile is more genuine than he’d like to admit.

“Hi,” He replies.  (y/n) smiles a little wider.  “Is this really your plan for the night?” He asks, wagging his finger in a circular motion at the pile of work she had before her.

“It was,” She claims.  “But I have this odd feeling
 like you’re about to drag me off
?” She can barely contain her delight, even as she presses her finger against her pursed lips in mock curiosity.

“Take you away from your studies? Who do you think I am, Special Grade? A bad influence?” 

“And apparently a mind reader, too” She quips.

“Well
 do you want me to drag you out of here or not?” 

It’s only a dizzy spell from Satoru’s warping later that they find themselves in the middle of a neighborhood, in front of a house she doesn’t recognize.  Needless to say, it was not a usual spot for them.

“A house party?” (y/n) furrows her brows at him, before glancing down at herself.  She’d ditched her uniform jacket at least, but she was still in black slacks and her white tee shirt.  “You couldn’t have told me to wear something different?” 

Satoru frowns, before mirroring her actions.  In the same pants and a black tee shirt himself, he takes offense to her insinuation.

“You don’t think I make this look good?” He pouts.

“I think we look like we’re in costumes- what are we doing here, anyways?” She asks.

“Shoko told me about it,” He says, before taking a step towards the house.  “C’mon let’s go in” 

Begrudgingly, she follows him, even though she’s still completely unsure of the whole thing.

“This is really what you wanted to do?” She asks, and Satoru doesn’t miss the way she stiffens when he lets himself into the house without even a knock.  She supposes knocking or ringing the doorbell would have been pointless, seeing as the music playing inside was so loud the bass could be heard from the front yard, but it unsettles her nonetheless.

No, he thinks.

But what he says is; “Why not?” with that big dumb grin of his that tells her she should keep her guard up tonight.

It’s strange that she can trust him with her life while simultaneously not trusting him in the slightest at this moment.

The house party is picture perfect, captured like every movie scene depicting a house party ever.  Countless bodies inhabiting the open living room, the staircase, and the few hallways she could see just from stepping through the door.  It seems everyone’s either holding a plastic cup, a beer bottle, a cigarette, or some combination of the three.  When they take a few steps in and she doesn’t feel any weird stares, her stomach starts to settle, but the voice in the back of her mind still whines that she should’ve at least changed into a pair of jeans.

Satoru’s not taking any of it in- at all.  Despite his Six Eyes, he hardly notices the bustling of dancing bodies, or bodies trying to push through the crowd.  The music is at just the right volume to ring in his ears in a way that will ache tomorrow, but he doesn’t register the melody enough to identify the song, and he doesn’t try, either.  He’s far more charmed by the way (y/n) takes it all in with complete enamourment and intrigue than he could be by the scene itself.

The scene itself was unimpressive.  A loud, smoky atmosphere that had his skin crawling before even attempting to walk through the crowd of people made him want to wince.  He tried to keep his expression as neutral as he could, not wanting to take away from (y/n’s) experience, but when his eyes surveyed the place, they squinted with disgust.  It was even starting to smell.

“What first, hm?” He turned towards her in an attempt to block out the setting they found themselves in.  If only he could turn off his Six Eyes and tunnel vision completely on her.  “Body shots? Dancing?” 

(y/n) scoffs, but a humored smile curls on her lips as she meets his gaze.

“How about just a drink?”

“A shot?” 

“One beer” 

His grin twitches, before he gives her a nod and takes off into the crowd that had his Infinity flickering on instantaneously.  Satoru’s got his sights set straight on the kitchen, it seems a little less crowded in there, and the array of coolers and bottles on the counter was the most appealing thing about this place.  

(y/n) let her eyes wander every person they passed, taking in everything she could.  Every smile, every laugh, every outfit and anything else there was to take note of.  A few people noticed her curious staring, some waved, some seemed indifferent, some stared back, but nothing captured her attention quicker than Satoru tapping her on the shoulder once they’d reached the kitchen.  He’s already holding a bottle out to her, and she takes it with a quiet thank you.

He takes it back from her moments later when she tries to unscrew the bottle cap.  The grin she knows to be cautious of returns as he points a finger at it, thumb outstretched, and with a quiet zap the cap flies off.  Surprisingly, he doesn’t completely shatter the bottle with his abundance of cursed energy, but the bottle cap does go flying, and they hear a distant ‘ow!’.

“I could’ve found a bottle opener” (y/n) tells him, but he knows she was at least a little bit impressed by his finite control over his technique.

“But ya already got one,” He quips with pride.  She stifles her laugh by raising the bottle to her lips, taking a few long drinks.  Satoru’s eyebrows almost raise to his hairline, a shocked laugh belting out of him when she finishes.

“I figured you’ve never had a drop to drink before” He says when she gives him a confused look.

“I haven’t” She confirms.  Satoru keeps his mouth shut after that.

They spend a few hours at the house party, to both of their surprise.  There’s some mingling, (y/n) seemed to enjoy meeting new people, and drunk people seemed to enjoy flocking to her.  Girls thought her attire was badass, guys liked talking to a girl that talked back- at least until Satoru’s face would screw up enough that they’d leave.  Other than a few offers of phone numbers, he couldn’t say he hated the whole party setting.

But his acceptance of the whole ordeal might have had less to do with the party being fun and more to do with the company he kept for the night.  As much as (y/n) moved about to enjoy every aspect of the simple party, she had a habit of sticking as close to his side as possible.  If she was walking away, her hand was latching onto his, or his elbow, to keep him moving with her.  If they were surrounded in a tightly packed space, she was glued to his side, tucked under her arm and pressed against him from torso to leg.  Satoru deducted that he’d never show up to one of these things alone, but if she asked him? Hell, he might agree without thinking twice.

“Hear me out- hear me out!” She doesn’t need to tell him twice, but she shouts when she repeats herself just to be sure that Satoru can hear her clearly.  “I think we should throw our- our own party, back at- back at home” 

It’s cute that she calls it home, he thinks.  Logically, he knows it’s because she’s never really had a solid place to land before Yaga scouted her and took her in, but it still has a way of making his heart flutter with the idea of her involving him in her idea of home.  

They’ve taken a break from chatting with strangers, to Satoru’s relief, and right now he had her attention all to himself.  They were currently wallflowering in a corner between the hallway and the living room, a water bottle being passed between them, although he tried to keep it more in her hands than his, considering she out drank him rather quickly.

“I dunno, Suguru and Shoko aren’t really party animals,” He replies, earning a bubbly giggle from her, which he takes to mean she agrees.  “I think you might just be enjoying yourself too much” 

“No such thing,” She argues with a definitive shake of her head.  “And don’t lie, you’re having fun, too!” 

She’s shouting a bit again, and Satoru laughs.  Shoko and Suguru wouldn’t believe him later when he tells them about how cute she was when she was tipsy and talkative.  Oh well, he’d have to enjoy it for himself first hand.  He already couldn’t get enough of it, of her eager attention.  He’s so wrapped up in it he’s been leaning closer and closer each time she speaks.  Until he’s practically hanging onto the corner of the wall, pressing closer to the side she’d been leaning against.

“I wouldn’t attribute that to this party” He scoffs, almost rudely as he glances at the remaining people.  

There’s a couple making out on the couch, a circle forming at the bottom of the stairs with a bong being slowly passed around, a few people are passed out on open furniture, at least one person sleeping on the floor- and he can only imagine what’s going on upstairs.

When he looks back at her, her eyes are already focused on his.  Round and full of pure delight, as if this had been the greatest night of her life.  Satoru pushes his sunglasses on top of his head, revealing the slight squint in his gaze.  (y/n) tilts her head curiously when she catches the furrow forming in his brows, too.

“What?” She asks him, still studying his puzzled expression.  It’s a bit difficult, with his pretty eyes on display, her mind was a little one track at the moment and it was hard to focus on anything other than the perfect cerulean oceans.

“How come you never went out ‘n did this stuff before moving here?” 

Her shoulders rise and fall unceremoniously.  

“I guess cause no one ever dragged me into doing them.  Teleporters were in short supply, too” She laughs at her own joke, and Satoru cracks a smile, reveling in her amusement.

“Well aren’t you in luck, then,” He hums, and he admits his insides are starting to feel doughy when he’s the object her soft gaze is so set on, and it’s probably about time to convince her to head home, but that would mean ruining her fun, and he can’t bring himself to do so just yet.  “Did you get to have all the synthetically produced fun you wanted?” He teases, and she shrugs again, but this time the motion is gentler, more careful.

“I had a good time with you,” The reply is genuine, making it all the more hard hitting to his heart.  Even his Infinity couldn’t protect him from that.  Her eyes finally tear away from his, only to glance over the dwindling crowd of drunken bodies.  “You sort of scared off all my kiss options though” 

“Kiss options?” He repeats with a laugh, taking her comment for a joke.  When she looks up at him again, he can tell in her deluded, drunken mind, she’d been absolutely serious.  “You’re joking.  You wanted to kiss one of these clowns?” He clicks his tongue in displeasure, but her expression doesn’t waver.

“It’s a bit late for it now.  But I figured it was as good a time as any to get it out of the way,” She says, in that light but serious tone again, and now Satoru feels his heart dropping.  “Oh well,” She sighs, leaning further into the wall, until her head rested against it.  “Another time
” 

“What, it’s on your bucket list to kiss some rando?” He teases half-heartedly.  

Had she been trying to make a move on someone all night? Now Satoru’s mind was racing with thoughts that made his stomach twist into knots.  Had he misread their entire evening? Had she been trying to ditch him? Was he the one clinging to her? Well, he’d clung a little bit, but it felt natural to wrap his arm around her waist and keep her close! His heart started hammering in his chest as the nasty feeling in his gut began to climb up his throat.

“No,” She says, laughing under her breath at the idea.  “Just wanted to get the first one over with” 

Gojo’s eyes widen almost comically, before he leans in and drops his voice to a whisper, as if to spare her any embarrassment.

“As in first kiss?” He mutters, eyes darting around just to be sure no one else could hear.  (y/n’s) laughter bubbles at his dramatic display, and takes no offense to it at all, simply nodding her head.

“Yeah, as in first kiss,” She repeats with the same secretive act, before laughing again.  “Don’t act all surprised now” 

“Baby, I’m not acting,” The pet name falls off his tongue sarcastically, but he can’t deny it feels a bit too natural.  “You’ve never kissed anyone?” 

“Nope” She pops her lips and shakes her head.

“And of all places you wanted to kiss someone here?” He asks, his lips curling into a grimace as he recalled the candidates from earlier.  The pickings weren’t exactly ripe.

“It was just a kiss,” She rolls her eyes at his reaction.  “I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, Satoru, I just wanted to know what it was like.  Figured it might come up organically in a party setting” 

Satoru sticks his tongue out and gags.

“Absolutely not.  Why didn’t you just say somethin’? I would’ve kissed ya” 

“That doesn’t count” She shakes her head, and he narrows his eyes back at her.

“And why not?” He asks, clearly offended.  “I’ll have you know I’m a great kisser!” 

“Oh yeah? Your hand told you so?” (y/n) snickers, and Satoru’s pout noticeably worsens.  “I don’t want a pity kiss, I want a real kiss.  Y’know, so I can be good at it before it
 really matters” 

“It would be a real kiss, dummy, what difference does it make?” He’s not following her logic, and he can’t tell if it’s drunk (y/n) logic or if this had been on her mind all night.

She blinks at him, the humor in her features fading away the longer he stares back at her and she begins to realize he’s being serious.  Her brows twitch, and her mouth opens but no words come out.  What was she supposed to say? Yes, kiss me now!? It felt awkward to suddenly rush into it and accept his offer.  But she also didn’t want to let the moment pass and regret it later.

“It won’t be weird,” Satoru purses his lips and shakes his head with as much nonchalance as he can muster.  It’s as though he’s reading her mind, and the thought of taking him up on it makes her face feel warm.  “Besides, I would be a bad friend letting you have a bad first kiss with some non-sorcerer that doesn’t know what he’s doing” 

“You’d feel bad?” A small laugh escapes her as she teases him, tilting her chin up at him.  Satoru nods his head from side to side with uncertain confirmation.  “Okay then” 

“Okay?” He repeats.

“Yeah” 

“You’ll let me?” 

It’s an odd way of phrasing it, she’ll let him kiss her, as if he was the one seeking it out in the first place.  However Satoru was simply doing her a favor, wasn’t he? Helping her get the first one out of the way.  He’d much rather he do it himself than let any of the idiots she met tonight get the chance.  But that’s just because they weren’t worthy like he was, and that was a fair assessment, wasn’t it? 

He swallows the lump in his throat with only a little difficulty before she nods back at him and gives him a hum of approval.  She’ll actually let him.

When he doesn’t make a move, she tilts her head at him in confusion.

“Well?” 

“Well come on,” He beckons her, before taking her by the hand and pulling her away from the wall they’d been hugging for the better part of an hour.  “Can’t have it be in some stranger’s house, might as well get a better view than that, yeah?” 

He grins at her as he half guides and half drags her outside.  She’s a little lost on his logic, because it was just a kiss wasn’t it? Did the setting really matter? Although once they’re outside she has to admit the moon’s luminescence did provide a nicer atmosphere.  A smile graces her face as she admires the sky, until Satoru stops them.

“Here’s good,” He decides, grinning back at her.  “Got a speech planned? Anyone you want to thank?” 

“Well, I never thought I’d make it this far,” She giggles as she goes along with the bit.  “I suppose at the end of it all I only have myself to thank, really-” 

“Ahem” 

“Oh, and of course Gojo Satoru, for the wonderful opportunity,” She corrects, barely containing her laughter through her made-up speech.  Satoru brightens, grinning from ear to ear at her delight.  “I think that’s all I got” 

He chuckles, before taking a step forward and closing the already small distance between them.  Her breath hitches in her throat as reality sets in.  She didn’t really think about actually kissing Satoru until he was close enough that his cologne wafted past her nose, and her eyes naturally fell to the pink curve of his lips.

“I’m not kissin’ you with your eyes open,” He laughs breathlessly, and her eyes briefly flicker up to his before she lets them shut.  The heat in her face begins to spread down her neck as she holds her breath.  “You need me to count down?” He asks, and he’s only partially joking.

“Just kiss me, ‘toru-” 

He doesn’t need further assurance beyond her impatient little whine, so in one motion he slides hand around the back of her neck, pulling her forehead just as he dipped his head to meet her lips with his.

She’s frozen at first, unmoving under his soft mouth prodding against hers, but he expected as much.  After two seconds, she slowly and carefully kisses him back, still nervous she’d do something wrong.

Her hands are planted firmly at her sides, and her eyes are squeezed shut, but she still cherishes every second of the simple kiss.  How sweet his lips taste, how warm and welcoming they are, how much she’d like to stand there and kiss him for a few minutes more


When she pulls away to catch her breath that she’d been holding in for far too long, Satoru’s hand lingers at the nape of her neck.  His fingers twitch, indecisive in what to do next.

Kissing her again wasn’t the right move
 was it? 

“Thank you,” She tells him softly, her blush prominent on her face even in the dark.  “Should we get going now?” 

He could almost laugh at how quickly she moved on if it didn’t sting a little.  He hides it behind a smile as he nods his head in agreement, getting ready to warp them back home.

“You could’ve thanked my hand in your speech too” He teases as she wraps her arms round one of his, mentally preparing for the dizzying effect of teleportation.

“Shut up” She giggles back before they disappear from the scene.

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

Satoru’s never turned down (y/n’s) company.  He’s never wanted her to be away from him, and he’d never ask her to, either.  There was no one whose presence he delighted in more than hers- and he was starting to really come to terms with what that meant.

“You should go to bed,” He tells her, for the third time tonight.

There was no reason for him to stay up on guard with him.  He had surveillance covered while Suguru and Riko slept.  There was no sense in (y/n) staying up all night and wasting away her energy.  Not when she’d already done so last night, despite his protests then, too.

She’s sitting on the other end of the sofa, a small carton of ice cream in her hands that she was poking around in, trying to scoop out all of the brownie bits first.  She looks like she hadn’t even heard him, but Satoru’s not falling for it.

“Seriously, (y/n), you need rest” He sighs, hoping tonight he’d get through to her.

She hums thoughtfully, her eyes focused on her snack, and Satoru throws his head back against the couch cushion in defeat.

“We could put a movie on, good way to pass time,” She suggests, completely ignoring his request.  “I’ll even let you pick” She adds, shooting him a warm smile.

“You’re not gonna sleep, are you?” Satoru frowns when he turns his head to look at her.  Her smile remains as she shakes her head.

“Nope,” She murmurs sweetly.  “So you might as well pick something to watch” 

She’d pulled this last night, too.  Convincing him to hang out at the beach all night, swimming and stargazing.  He adored her company, he really did, but she hadn’t slept a wink yesterday, and he couldn’t put her through 48 straight hours without it.

He knows she’s exhausted, her eyes were dull, and starting to get puffy from lack of rest.  She did her best keeping up an energetic attitude, especially during the day when Suguru and Riko had still been awake, she’d fooled them almost too easily.  But Satoru knew better.  He knew her better.

“If I put a movie on will you at least lay down?”

Her eyes narrow at him, before she lowers her ice cream to her lap.

“Are you trying to trick me into falling asleep, Satoru?” 

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not going to go delirious because you’re not sleeping a normal human amount-” He tries to argue but she interrupts him.

“You haven’t slept either, hypocrite,” She mutters the last part.  “I’m resting enough just sitting around for the night, aren’t I?” 

“No-” 

“Pick the damn movie, Satoru” 

He huffs, but for some reason he finds himself putting a random disc in the dvd player before he falls onto the sofa again.  (y/n) remains at her end, slowly picking at her ice cream while the movie starts.  Satoru doesn’t have the energy to argue with her- literally, he’s starting to get tired keeping his Infinity up like this- so he sits in silence and watches the tv.  All he can do now is hope that she’ll get tired over time and maybe just pass out.  She couldn’t keep it up forever, could she? 

Two more movies later, Satoru worries he’d grossly underestimated her.  It had been almost six hours- it was nearing four in the morning- and she still reluctantly had her eyes glued to the tv.  He’d tried a few more times to convince her, but all he’d managed was to get her to share a blanket with him.

It hadn’t been enough.  She settled under the fluffy blanket, right up against his side, and still it wasn’t enough coziness to lure her into sleep.  He had to give her some credit for her stubbornness, that was for sure.

Around the 4:30 mark, he feels a weight pressing into his shoulder- well, against the Infinity, and he’s filled with so much hope he almost drops the barrier just to fully enjoy the feeling of her sleeping against him.

Then she alerts him that she’s still awake by speaking.

“Satoru,” It’s soft, so faint that he holds onto hope that she could still drift off.  “If I do fall asleep, you’ll wake me up, won’t you?”

He chuckles, before sliding his arm around her back, making sure to tuck the blanket up to her shoulder before he settles his arm there, keeping her tucked in against him.  He tells himself that this is all to make sure she’ll get some sleep- against her will or not- and that it had nothing to do with how his heart felt full when she snuggled a little deeper into his hold.

“You know I’m not gonna, Special Grade,” He murmurs back.  She grumbles something inaudible, but he assumes it has something to do with the heavier droop of her head.  

After a few minutes, he raises his hand from her shoulder, and slowly presses his fingers against her temple, easing her into a more comfortable position, until eventually he feels her slump completely as she gives in.

He lets their movie keep on rolling once she’s finally asleep against him, it at least held his attention enough to keep him awake.  The hammering of his heart in his chest might’ve also kept his adrenaline kicking for long enough that it wouldn’t have mattered, though.

The following day, (y/n) gives him a few icy glares, just to remind him that she didn’t appreciate his cruel trick.  Riko and Suguru share a few awkward glances as the two half fight and half joke about the whole thing.  They try to remove themselves from the pair’s bantering as much as they can, unable to stand the levels of chemistry they carried into every room.

“Seriously Satoru, it’s going to make me sick,” Suguru mutters to his friend at one point, while (y/n) and Riko are busy wandering the shore for seashells, or something.  “Make a move or don’t, but you’re driving the rest of us mad” 

Satoru laughs, his eyes squinting against the sun even with his shades on.  It was getting exhausting keeping them open, the amount of cursed energy it took to keep up Infinity and his Six Eyes had been giving him headaches all day, but he did his best to hide it.

“You’re just jealous that she likes me more” He says, even though Suguru doesn’t care in the slightest, and he even rolls his eyes to drive that point home.

“Well she’s not gonna like you forever if you keep up this dumb game,” He argues.  “What kind of friends kiss and then don’t do anything about it?”

“I told you that in confidence” Satoru whines.

“You told me in the middle of the night right after it happened,” Suguru reminds him in a plain tone of voice.  “Seriously, we all know she has feelings for you, so stop being a coward” 

“Not a coward,’ Satoru mumbles, kicking at the sand.  “We’re just
 sorta in the middle of something here?” He tries to blame it on the assignment, but Suguru gives him a blank look.

“We’re at the beach,” He mutters.  “She’s been staying up with you, too, so do it then, after the rest of us have gone to sleep” He points a finger at him for the last part, making sure it was crystal clear.

“I don’t know.  Maybe” Satoru huffs, and starts to walk away before Suguru could drag the conversation on any longer.

He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening mulling it over.  He’d known how he felt about her for quite some time now, before he’d even kissed her.  The kiss was just the solidification that his feelings were real, and not some romanticized imagination his mind had drawn up.  But he’d never felt love before, and he had no clue how to go about professing it.

He’s antsy when he and (y/n) find themselves on the beach again that night, long past sunset, long past when everyone else had gone to bed.  They’re both seated on a towel to keep their clothes clear of sand, but with their feet digging into the soft grains it didn’t matter, the towel became a mess anyways.

“I don’t want you to stay up too late again,” He tells her, although it feels useless.  “It’s just not good for you,” He looks over at her, taking in the darker circles under her eyes, the paleness in her features even after spending the day in the sun.  “And it’s not worth it”

She gives him a bittersweet smile, her head tilting just slightly as she regards his worry.

“It is worth it,” She replies quietly.  “I don’t want you to be alone out here,” She tells him, watching the way his expression falters and softens.  “It’s just not good for you” She mimics him with a laugh for good measure, and he barely cracks a smile, but his worry is still evident.

“Well, when this assignment is over, can you promise to sleep for three days straight to make up for it?” He asks, and she thinks it over for a moment before nodding her head in agreement.

“I suppose,” She answers.  “As long as you do, too,” She adds quickly, “Fair is fair” 

Satoru rolls his eyes, but his smile is a little more genuine this time.

“Alright then, 72 hours of sleep it is,” He gives in.  “But I’m holding you to that promise” 

“I don’t break promises,” She tells him confidently, before a quietness settles between them again.  Her gaze lingers on the low tide rolling in as she lets her mind wander, and before she knows it, she’s speaking up again.  “I know you don’t think you need anyone looking out for you, Satoru,” 

He looks at her right away, tired eyes widening at the sudden seriousness in her tone.  She’s still watching the tide, completely captured by it, but he can tell she’s holding in more.

“But I
 I worry about you,” She admits, dropping her head to stare at her lap.  “I don’t want you to take on more than you can handle, I
 I don’t want them to take advantage of you anymore,” 

She swallows the lump in her throat before finally working up the courage to look over at him.

“I know that you’re the strongest, and it’s gonna happen but
 but I can’t help this feeling like
 I’m here too, you know? I can take things on too, assignments, or
 this,” She gives him a weak smile, hoping he understands that her sentiment comes from a good place.  “I care about you, you know?” She finishes in a whisper.

Satoru’s eyes shift in between hers as he takes it in.  How ironic, that every reason she has for putting herself through hours without rest, were the exact reasons that he wanted her to get rest.  The corner of his lips tugs into a small smile as he takes her in now, completely.

Her exhaustion is evident, but with the way she’s looking at him now, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so beautiful.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

In an act of complete selfish desire, he leans over the space between them and plants his lips on hers.  Her eyes widen at first, alarmed by the sudden kiss, and the fact that he’s dropped his Infinity in order to touch her at all, but as soon as the shock starts to wear off her eyes fall shut and she’s kissing him back with all the fervor that she wished she had the first time.

It’s another pleasant surprise when she reaches out and finds her fingertips bumping into his cheekbones, before her entire hands up his warm face and she’s pulling him closer to her, kissing him again- and then again some more.

Satoru’s balance is thrown off from the way he leans against her, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed when he wraps his arms around the dip in her back and pulls her closer to him.  She obliges with a soft sigh panted against his lips before they’re colliding again.

For all the passion he pours into it- for every ounce of need and impatience he feels, he kisses her slowly, each one lingering a little longer than the last, just to be sure he commits every detail of it to his memory, where it could be preserved in his perfection forever.

He doesn’t let go of her when they finally pull apart, and she doesn’t pull her hands away from his face, either.  They keep each other close, as close as they can while still catching their breath.

Her eyes are wide when they meet his, confused and ecstatic all in one sweet expression that Satoru wants to add to his collection of memories.  He smiles at her as his eyes wander her face leisurely.

“What was that for?” She murmurs, the pad of her thumb rubbing over the delicate curve of his cheekbone with nothing but fondness in her touch.  

He chuckles, warm breath fanning over her lips.  

Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because,” 

His voice is a mere murmur, and for a moment she thinks that might be his entire answer.  She wouldn’t put it past him, but there’s a look in his eyes that resembles longing, and she knows there must be more.

“I love you too”

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

[ summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes // i'm your national anthem ]

✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie a/n: i actually had a super rad cursed technique planned for reader but ended up not writing any scenes where she's using it so u WILL see it come up in another fic sometime