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adult!! / she-they / ask to be moots pls / i love gojo
194 posts
Gojocp - Gojocp - Tumblr Blog
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hooray

based on a conversation with @fynn-arcana
not my drawings, my edit
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
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wolf keum â heart bloom
summary : youâre 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 ficâs VERY long (oops)
Itâs not your style to be late to school. Youâre never behind on assignments and always get exceptionally good grades. Youâre not loud in the hallways or at the cafeteria.
You exist in peaceful silence, only making yourself known when you need to. So you canât 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 doesnât 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 donât 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 doesnât reply to your teacher and you gulp. What were you saying? Ah, that stupid boy interrupted you and now all your focus is gone. Youâre not worried about your grade, you could stop speaking right now and still get an A. No, youâre 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 youâre going to die. You donât know why you feel this way but you canât 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. Youâre aware that most of them donât even listen to you, too busy scrolling endlessly on their phones, but it still freaks you out.
"Y/N, please continue."
Nowâs 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 Wolfâs 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 donât remember ever seeing your manager yawning or complaining at work. Is this what itâs like to be passionate about something?
No, Subin mustâve had some bad days. You probably just werenât 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 ânot 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. Itâs 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."
Youâre 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 donât remember the name of it, but you know Wolf is in it.
However youâve never seen the boy in front of you so you know he doesnât go to your school. If he isnât some dropout, of course. Not that you would judge someone for dropping out, you just donât 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 didnât 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, youâre not interested and donât 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 doesnât 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.
Wolfâs attention lands on the man blocking your way before he looks back at you. Why are you here? Heâs 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 doesnât know when to drop the ball apparently. Werenât 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 donât 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, nâno."
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 isnât that surprising considering the way he ruthlessly fights, but what wouldâve happened if Wolf and Hwangmo didnât 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 didnât 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. Youâre screaming at a man you donât know, in the middle of the street, at night.
What are you doing? This isnât you, doing things like this doesnât feel right. What if this man decides to follow you and make you pay for the humiliation? You wouldnât 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, youâre walking away, heart pounding in your chest and unaware that Wolfâs 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 Myungâs 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 donât understand why sheâs 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/Nâs the main character now."
Bongcha seems unimpressed and you shake your head in despair.
"We can change Wolfâs name and call him knight in shining armor."
You cringe at Myungâs words, "Please, donât. He didnât 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 donât 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 youâve known each other your whole lives!"
Myungâs face falls when neither you or Bongcha react. "Oh come on, you canât say he doesnât 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 wouldnât like the lifestyle of being a leaderâs 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, donât deny Wolfâs hot. Iâm not asking you to go after him."
Now, it would be a lie to say Wolf isnât attractive. Actually, you always thought he was rather cute and maybe, maybe, youâve 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 Myungâs, "I never said he wasnât."
Myung squeals in excitement, saying something you canât 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 shopâs most loyal regulars after 7pm.
Todayâs shift was rather calm, allowing you to work on an essay that youâd 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 donât forget the sentence you were just about to write down for your essay.
"Helloâ 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.
Youâve been working in this cafĂ© for two years, it is the very first time youâve seen Wolf in there. Is he even a coffee person? Youâve always assumed he was more of an alcohol person. Well, it didnât help to stumble upon him and his group of friends walking in and out of bars and clubs during the weekends.
You realize youâve 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 youâd 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 Wolfâs.
His eyes are very pretty, you think. You donât 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 doesnât help," you reply coldly. "A coffee, a tea, matcha?"
Wolf searches for your eyes but theyâre 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 didnât 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."
"Whatâs that?"
"If someone keeps eye contact with him for three seconds or more, he fights them."
Youâre 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? Itâs not like he even knows what he wants to drink.
"Just make me your favorite drink," Wolf finally speaks.
Theory confirmed, he doesnât know what he wants. Youâre 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 donât 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 donât picture Wolf staying inside a cafĂ© with a drink he didnât even pick himself. Maybe youâre in the middle of a weird dream?
"Okay, Iâll 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 youâll have to pay for it. What a great news, you being forced to pay for a drink you wonât even get to enjoy.
Youâre such a shrunken mess when you start preparing your favorite drink âa 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 âmake me your favorite drinkâ.
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 Wolfâs 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 doesnât like the drink, youâll pay for it and call it a day. You donât 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 donât 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.
Youâre 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 âanyone, 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 canât forget the three second rule. But you wonder, would he fight a woman? He mustâve had pretty girls staring and throwing themselves at him, right?
Pretty girls⊠you almost laugh at yourself for putting yourself in this category. You donât consider yourself bad looking but you donât 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, Iâll see you next week!"
You can only nod, the words stuck in your throat as you were so focused on your thoughts you didnât notice your managerâs 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 Myungâs 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 arenât 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 âwhat are weâ.
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, youâve seen him before. He doesnât go to your school but youâre 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 itâs time for you to pay more attention to the things Myung talks about.
You hear a snicker coming out of Wolfâs throat, "He didnât tell you what he did last night?" He stops for a few seconds, "What? Are you gonna stay quiet, you little shit?"
Wolf definitely didnât fight this guy because he was harassing you last night. Something else mustâve happened after you left.
The words coming out of Wolfâs mouth make you stop dead in your tracks, "Harassing her."
You shouldnât turn around. Itâs 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, youâre forced to spin on your heels to face the boy who just called you his girlfriend. Wolfâs eyes are already set on you, boring into yours as if to assess your reaction. But youâre 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, youâll find a way to hit him harder than any of his other opponents. What the hell is wrong with him?
The last interaction youâve had with Wolf mustâve 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 wouldnât be enough.
Jimmy grunts and lightly slaps the injured boy next to him, "Dude, not the girlfriends, you fucking idiot!"
Not the girlfriends? So, itâs okay to harass single women? You want to throw up at this point, men are such a lost cause.
"Apologize and weâre even," Wolf orders.
This is definitely a dream. Youâre going to wake up in a few seconds and blame your brain for coming up with such an awful scenario, like seriously, couldnât 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, "Iâm sorry."
You canât 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, Iâll 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 arenât you repulsed by Wolfâs presence right next to you? Why did his fingers grazing over your shoulder feel so⊠warm?
No, you canât let your imagination take over. You wonât 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 youâre 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 Yoosunâs top delinquent.
Youâll have to ask Myung tomorrow.
But Wolfâs 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 youâre turning around and walking away with white dots covering your eyes.
/\ /\ /\
\/ \/ \/
You didnât 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 âthe 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 donât 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, whatâs the point of sticking around afterwards? Itâs not like men bother you at every corner, you donât need protection. Even though, you know Wolf doesnât care about that.
Youâre 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, "Whatâs wrong with you? Uh?"
A silence lingers between you both, broken by honks and the laughter of people passing by.
"Whyâre you following me around?" you ask strongly.
Wolf shrugs, "Iâm not. We just have the same route."
"Lies," you spit. "What do you want?"
The amused smile on Wolfâs 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 Iâm 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 canât seem to understand what brings him into your workplace when he skips classes almost every day. Wouldnât it be more interesting for him to go to the bar with his friends?
Wolf doesnât know why he started counting. The way your eyes bore into his does something to him he isnât familiar with. One, but he wants more. Two, itâs not like youâre 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 donât apply to you."
You huff in annoyance, glaring at him once more, "Oh yeah? And whyâs that? Because the fight would be too boring?"
You donât even know why you just said that. What did he mean? Is he messing with you? Well, yes, of course, you canât think of any logical reason to explain his behavior towards you.
"Youâre too pretty to fight with."
Your heart clenches in your chest and your stomach twists so hard you wonder if youâre not just about to be sick. No, you shouldnât let his words win you over, he is definitely messing with you. There is absolutely no way Wolf thinks youâre⊠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, youâre 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 Myungâs 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 canât fool you.
"Why do you need me there?" you grunt. "Bongcha said sheâd go."
"I donât need you, I want you to come," Myung corrects. "You need to let loose, youâre always studying or working."
Itâs not that you hate parties, theyâre okay. Sometimes. You just feel uncomfortable going to a party where you donât know anyone. Well, besides your friends. And a part of you fears youâd stumble into Jimmy and that he would recognize you. What if he says something? Myung would definitely kill you.
"PleaseâŠ"
You sigh, knowing Myung isnât actually giving you a chance to refuse. You have to come clean and tell her everything. You donât even know how you kept all of this to yourself for so long.
"Okayâ" 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 youâve ever seen. You give her two minutes before her smile disappears and turns into a glare with what youâre about to tell her.
"Okay so I have some things to tell you," you start. "Please, donât interrupt me and⊠donât 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 didnât get mad. You think itâs because you provided her with the most unexpected rom com scenario but youâre not so sure about it.
"He is so into you!" Myung squeals, "This is even better than in the movies!"
"No, he is not, heâs just messing with me because he thinks itâs funny."
Myung and Bongcha share a knowing look, "Youâre 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 didnât 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 donât recall Wolf ever being into a relationship before. Well, you assume itâs happened because of all the girls who have a crush on him. But you donât see why he would be into you. You out of all people.
Youâre⊠normal. Definitely above average when it comes to school but you know thatâs not something boys are interested in. They want the prettiest girl. And you donât see Wolf being into someone like you. Because he is definitely out of your league.
Myung lets out a loud shriek and Bongchaâs 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 canât erase all his flaws. He is bad news and you donât 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 heâs 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 doesnât look sorry for the hit, "For saying heâs out of your league."
"Yeah!" Myung growls. "Youâre gorgeous!"
You hum half-heartedly, deciding itâs best for you to stop fighting them. Theyâre 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?
Itâs 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 youâre 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 canât take no for an answer.
You donât even ask Myung the content of the plastic cup she forcefully puts in your hands. One sip and you know itâs beer. Youâre not really a fan but itâs better than the spiked punch sitting in a giant bowl in the kitchen.
Minutes pass by and youâve already hit your socializing quota. You arenât one for partying endlessly, even less for making small talk with people you wonât 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.
Itâs 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. Wolfâs. Itâs no secret that Wolf follows you on your socials. Heâs 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 donât 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 donât want to let your brain imagine itâs because he stalked your account. First, because thatâs just weird. Second, because he doesnât have a crush on you. Plain and simple.
The only logical explanation is that he didnât 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! Thatâs Wolfâs girl!"
Wolfâs girl⊠You never expected to be called like that in your life. But you canât 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 canât let it settle in your heart. Double fuck, people you donât even know think you two are dating.
You force a tiny smile, "Hi."
"That fucker couldnât even come around by himself, he had to send his girlfriend," Jimmy chortles, causing a few of his friends to laugh. "I canât fucking believe him."
He couldnât 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 itâs impressive to flaunt his fighting skills? It makes him look ridiculous.
Jimmyâs 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, youâll 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 Myungâs forum one night when you couldnât sleep.
Wolfâs voice echoes through the speaker right when you remember an information that invalidates Jimmyâs 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."
Jimmyâs 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 canât fight him with your fists but a few facts can definitely do the job.
Jimmyâs lips tremble before he focuses his attention on his phone, "Your girlâs pissing me off. I donât know what youâre trying to do man but you better fix your shit before I send her back to you with a broken leg."
Well, youâre 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 youâre 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 youâre pretty sure he doesnât 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? Couldnât you just do what you always did, stay quiet? No, you had to provoke him as if you didnât stand on an enemyâs land.
Well, technically, Yoosun and Ganghak work together but you know they arenât 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 youâll talk your way out of this. Youâre 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? Iâm obsessed!"
Myung grabs your arm, eyeing you up and down as if she didnât help you pick your outfit two hours ago. But you quickly connect the dots. She is literally saving you from the situation youâre 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?"
Youâre a shivering mess, "I donât fucking know! Fuck, he said he wanted to breakâ"
"Your leg! I know I heard!" Myung interrupts, "What a fucking asshole!"
"I need to get out of here!"
You really donât want a party to turn into a visit to the hospital. Oh, youâll make Myung and Wolf pay for this so hard. But thatâs 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, Iâll 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? Isnât 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!"
Itâs 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. Whoâs 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 Wolfâs 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 youâre definitely providing her with a great show, "Heâs 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 Jimmyâs 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."
Thatâs 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, Iâm not thanking you! You created this, itâs your fault."
"Oh yeah? But Iâm 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. Youâd even dare kicking him between the legs.
"Should I remind you youâre the one who said we were dating?" you spit back. "Itâs not funny messing with people like that! Maybe youâre bored with your life but find someone else to do that with, okay?"
Wolfâs smile vanishes, "I donât plan on finding someone else."
"Why?!" you grunt annoyingly, "Any girl would gladly pretend to be your girlfriend. Seriously, Wolf."
"But Iâm into you."
You feel like youâve 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, donât act so shocked. Itâs pretty old news."
"Old news?" you repeat with a grimace. "Youâre unbelievable, what the fuckâs wrong with you."
Wolf shrugs, "You can ask around, Iâve liked you for a while. Whatever, you can reject me, it wonât change a thing."
Wolf likes you. Is this real life? Absolutely not. You donât even understand why Wolf would like you out of all people. You were never even friends? How can you like someone you donât even know?
"This isnât 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 youâre 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? Itâs 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 canât process whatâs 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 donât know if you want to wake up yet. Because going back to your regular, bland life will be painful. You donât know if youâll 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, "Youâre cute."
You donât even think before putting the helmet on your head and sitting behind Wolf on his bike.
Little do you know Wolfâs heart is racing incredibly fast when you place your hands on his waist, he canât fucking believe he just confessed after picking you up at a Yoosun party. It definitely wasnât 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 canât 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. Youâve never heard him laugh like this before. It sounds too nice in your ears.
"Thatâs 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. Itâs a text from Myung.
myung đ
girlllll everybody knows what happened this weekend at the party!!!!
they all think you and wolf are dating đ„čđđ§đ»ââïž
also wolf dropped something on your desk im fucking SCREAMING
WHERE TF ARE U ITS GONNA GET COLD
Itâs 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 schoolâs 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 Myungâs ecstatic expression plastered on her face as she points a finger at your desk.
There is a cup on your desk with Wolfâs name scribbled on it. You donât need more clues to figure out he must have stopped by a coffee shop and ordered you a coffee. Your heart canât take it anymore. Youâre not made to handle so many things happening, especially when they arenât 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 youâll 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 youâre screwed. He didnât 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 youâre head over heels for him? Honestly, youâre cringing at yourself. Itâs like, in the blink of an eye, you became the very unlikeable main character of a romantic movie whoâs so blinded by her own feelings she ignores all the red flags.
Also, another part of you still has a hard time believing everything thatâs happening. Youâre aware this isnât a dream, youâve made peace that your life just took a strange turn in just a few days. But is Wolf really serious? Sometimes, you wonder if heâll 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 wouldnât 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 isnât 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. "Iâm taking you out for a bite after your shift. Iâll pick you up."
As in a date? Tonight? Youâre about to burst on the curb, your heart canât keep up with everything thatâs happening.
"Uh⊠yeah, okay."
If anyone else would have offered you a date on the spot on a school night, you wouldâve said no in a heartbeat. Wolf didnât 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 youâre 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 canât 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 youâre 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, youâre 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 wasnât too boring without me around," he says playfully.
You raise an eyebrow, "Donât 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 canât have when you know itâs my favorite."
Wolfâs grin gets bigger on his face, "Wasnât 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, "Youâre 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 heâs 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 arenât 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 Wolfâs 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 itâs 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 youâre 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 isnât 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 doesnât mind spending money on him and others. He does it all the time. He knows he wonât take cash with him in the grave.
But he doesnât 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 canât pay for that."
Only you were meant to hear that. But your muffled whisper still reached Wolfâs ears, "Youâre not paying. I am."
"I canât 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, "Thatâs very old school mentality."
Wolf shrugs, "I donât care."
"Whatever, next time, Iâm the one paying," you say confidently. But your confidence dwindles immediately and you gulp, "But I canât 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 canât compete with a boy whoâs involved in illegal activities.
"WâWhat?"
"So, thereâs gonna be a next time, uh?"
You roll your eyes, covering your face with both hands, "Shut up."
He chuckles, "Iâm 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 Wolfâs 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 youâre 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 canât 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, Iâm sorry, he does that with some girls." She crouches down and rubs his hair, "Okay, honey, letâs go home!"
But the child canât tear his gaze away from you, waving his hands and shooting you warm smiles. Wolf looks at him and shakes his head knowingly, "Ah, sheâs pretty, uh?"
The boy shyly nods, both intimidated and hypnotized by Wolfâs purple hair and deep gaze. Wolf laughs at the child, "I know, I know. But I canât 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 didnât 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?
Isnât all of this just a very long dream? You canât even hate yourself anymore for wanting all of this to be your reality. You canât hate yourself for falling right back into your old crush.
Y/N
eager much?
next friday iâll send you the place
Wolf answers almost instantly.
KSJ
donât forget to forget your wallet
The laughter that escapes your throat is loud and your hand flies to your mouth, praying you didnât awake your parents.
The instant fear is immediately forgotten, replaced by a stupid grin on your face.
Honestly, youâre pretty sure you fell asleep smiling like an idiot.
/\ /\ /\
\/ \/ \/
Youâve been smiling like an idiot during the whole week, actually. Itâs like youâve been transported above the clouds and get to experience the most amazing dream in your real life.
Itâs like you can almost touch the stars with your feet still planted on the ground.
Youâve 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 werenât 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 schoolâs bathroom stall. Something inside of you yearns for casual messages like these. You never thought Wolf could be like this. And if you werenât 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?
didnât know you liked that about me
Y/N
đđđđ
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 iâll 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
Youâll never say this to anyone (or maybe Myung if she really insists) but youâve planned your outfit for tonight⊠three days ago. With each passing day, you realize youâre 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 donât see him. You feel more energetic at school and work, yet, you donât 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 canât come soon enough but your happiness takes a sour taste in your mouth when you hear the voices of some girls in the schoolâs bathroom.
"Iâm sure Wolfâs just messing with Y/N," a first girl says firmly.
A few girls giggle before a new voice speaks, "Right?! Like, sheâs 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 arenât 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. "Heâll throw her away when heâs bored."
"Yeah, next week!"
Finally, the girls exit the bathroom in a choir of laughter and you release the pained breath youâve been holding in for a few minutes.
You canât let them get into your head. Theyâre jealous, theyâre jealous, theyâre jealous. Wolf likes you. He said it multiple times. He texts you. Not them. He thinks youâre 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 youâre about to push the door of the little jazz club, you listen to the voice message Myung sent you.
â okay babe, tonightâs the night. itâs 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, heâs gonna walk in and pass out! i love you, have fun and please, please, please kiss him! itâs been going on way too long, iâm begging you!
You like the message and reply with a few heart emojis before you finally walk in the bar. Immediately, youâre hit with the sweet notes of wood and musc âprobably 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 donât need to yell if you want to speak with someone.
The first few minutes, your eyes stay near the barâs 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 isnât here, you pull out your phone and open instagram.
Y/N
iâm seated at the bar btw
You keep the conversation open for a few seconds but he doesnât open the message. No big deal, he is probably on his bike and canât 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 mustâve 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 didnât pop up again, Wolf mustâve 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 doesnât get anything even though she knows sheâs probably being stood up by her date.
The voices of the girls in the bathroom earlier that day inevitably invade your mind. Oh, you didnât 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 donât know whatâs 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.
Itâs 9.30 when you leave the bar with the feeling of the bartenderâs eyes trailing behind you. There was a hint of pity in his gaze.
Maybe Wolf stumbled upon the most beautiful girl heâs 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 werenât so special in the end and that he didnât 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 wouldâve listened to yourself in the first place. Wolf is a delinquent. Unreliable. Everything youâre not and everything you donât want. You shouldâve 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 canât you just go back to how you felt before?
You donât need love in your life, itâs not a goal for you. You have your friends and thatâs enough. Any girl can have Wolf if they want to, you donât 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 youâll take anything to stop your thoughts.
Your heart clenches when you check your phone.
KSJ
my meeting took longer than planned
weâve had big issues to deal with
i tried texting but i couldnât
KSJ
i dont see you at the bar
did you leave already?
KSJ
three missed calls
KSJ
im in front of your place
iâll 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 arenât surprised that what he had to do before your (canceled) date was related to that. But there is something you immediately notice.
He doesnât apologize in his texts.
Isnât 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 doesnât know how to say sorry?
Your answer is clear. No, you canât.
Wolf tries to call you a few more times but you never pick up. He can find someone whoâs more compliant, this person isnât 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.
Youâve been petty, you know that. But maybe itâs for the best if you just stop giving him the time of day. You two are way too different. You donât 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 canât 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 canât 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 canât guess what goes on in your head."
Your heart is drumming like crazy in your chest when you finally reach him. If only he wasnât 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. Itâs easy to guess what delayed him on Friday night mustâve been a fight with another gang.
"Hi," you say.
"Youâre alive," Wolf tries to say playfully but his voice holds something calmer. Like he doesnât 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. "Iâm picking you up after school."
Still no apology.
"I canât," you reply in a heartbeat.
Wolf isnât stupid. He knows he messed up. He knows you canât be bought with coffees, a fancy dinner and flowers. And he knows youâre saying no because you donât want to. Not because you canât.
"I really didnât think the meeting would take that long," Wolf explains calmly but his mind is running wild. "Then a fight happened and I couldnât back down."
You sigh, "Itâs not about that, honestly."
Wolf frowns at your words. He doesnât understand what could make you ignore him if it isnât related to what happened on Friday night.
"I get that you have your thing with the Union, itâs 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 isnât 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 doesnât apologize. Usually, he accepts the defeat in silence and looks at his opponent with a newly found form of respect.
But youâre not an opponent, youâre the girl heâs 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 couldnât just pretend what he was feeling could be ignored. He just needed to plan the way he would get closer to you.
When Wolf doesnât 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 Ganghakâs facility.
/\ /\ /\
\/ \/ \/
Wolf vanishes from your life after that.
You donât see him at school, you donât see him at the coffee shop, you donât see him and his group of friends gathered on the terrace of a bar at night.
Itâs been a week and Wolf just disappeared.
But your heart and mind canât seem to follow along, instead replaying the moments you shared with him over and over again.
And for what? Itâs not like you two ever dated. But you know itâs 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 couldâve happened between you two.
Youâre brought back to reality with Myungâs 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?
Itâs like the universe decided to take your bland life and turn it into a movie.
Itâs 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 shouldnât look. Really, itâs only going to hurt you even more. Youâre lucky enough the guy you have feelings for always ditches school, you shouldnât ruin all your efforts right now.
You shouldnât look. But Myungâs next words make it even harder, "Heâs looking at you. Didnât stop ever since he saw you."
Youâre screwed, too late, you canât help it. Your brain is screaming not to but itâs all your heart wants. Slowly, you turn around and your eyes land on him. Heâs so easy to spot, because of his purple hair probably, but you want to believe itâs 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. Youâre 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 youâre seeing him. He fixes his glasses and gulps but never looks away.
Hwangmo flickers his eyes in your direction, wondering why Wolf doesnât listen to him anymore. He chuckles knowingly and steps away, finding someone else to talk with. He canât distract Wolf, he knows exactly why he decided to come to this party tonight.
You, on the other hand, canât handle this anymore. Itâs 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 arenât a big drinker but maybe a beer will help you ignore him.
An entire hour goes by and, even if you can still feel Wolfâs 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.
Youâve never seen him before and find out he is Sooheeâs cousin. Heâs visiting for a week.
"Got any place to recommend in the city?" he asks, "I rarely have the chance to come."
You shrug, "I donât know, it depends what you like."
Choi slightly leans forward and you try your best not to grimace because of his liquored breath, "Donât know, what do you like?"
Oh god no, you really donât 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 doesnât even live in the city?
Realization hits you. He is just a man after all.
Choi doesnât falter in front of your awkward silence. Instead, he seems to notice something else. He frowns, "This dudeâs 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 youâre right. Itâs Wolf.
Eyes flickering between Choi, whoâs leaning against the kitchen island, and Wolf, whoâs leaning against a wall in the living room, you immediately notice theyâre staring at each other.
Fuck no, Choi doesnât know about Wolfâs rule. One, Wolfâs doesnât 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 fuckâs your problem, dude?" Choi rages.
You have to stop whatâs about to happen. What does Wolf think he is doing? Isnât he fighting enough being part of the Union?
Wolf slowly walks into the kitchen, letting out a small laugh, "My problemâs youâre 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 youâre more focused on Wolf than on him. He seems to understand something, "Dude, I didnât know she was taken or something! How could I fucking know if she doesnât say shit!"
Wolf loses his smirk instantly. Blaming the girl he likes appears to be the worst thing Choi couldâve done and Wolf is ready to push you aside when you beat him to it.
Your hand latches around Wolfâs wrist and he blinks, immediately pulled out of his enraged state. He looks at you with his eyes open wider.
"Donât fucking do it," you warn and, next thing you know, youâre pulling him out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
Your heart is racing. Wolf was a second away from knocking Choi down. Youâve 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. Wolfâs back smashes against the wooden door, the sound bouncing against the walls.
You donât care. He fights all the time, you know it didnât hurt him.
Wolfâs heart is racing like crazy as he watches your annoyed state. Youâre known for being calm and collected. He likes that about you. But he canât 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. "Youâre so fucking annoying, I really wanna slap you right now."
"Do it," Wolf dares seriously.
Youâre too stunned to speak. Of course youâre not going to slap him. He deserves a good hit but youâll never do it.
"If thatâs what it takes for you to talk to me again, just do it."
Heâs going to piss you off even more. He knows what it takes. A slap isnât 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 donât?"
You gasp in disbelief, "No, actually, I donât! Donât turn the tables around here, you know you fucked up." You run a hand over your face, whatâs the point of talking with him. "It doesnât fucking matter, you donât get it. Itâs not that important anyway, itâs not likeâ"
"Iâm 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 Iâm 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 couldâve been and never was.
Wolf can tell youâre unsettled. Youâre breathing a little faster and so is he. Heâs never apologized before. Never like that. Never for anyone. He was always sure but itâs another confirmation that heâs 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?"
"Youâve asked me for how long Iâve liked you," Wolf says with a long sigh. "Three years."
Three years? But, what couldâve happened three years ago for Wolf to like you for that long?
Wolf can tell youâre 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 canât be real. You canât 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 didnât notice Wolfâs frown as he wondered what you were doing. Honestly, he didnât even know why he even bothered showing up to work on a school homework he didnât even care for.
You two werenât close. He had known you almost his whole life but you never became friends. So why did he come? He couldnât tell.
With a hand gesture, youâve 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 didnât 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, "Youâll have to change it two or three times a day."
Two, his eyes twitched and he couldnât 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 Wolfâs heart.
You were quick to put your stuff back in your bag, "Letâs work on the science project another time."
Three, Wolfâs 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 doesnât mean there needs to be a bandage.
You donât want to believe these two things are linked. You donât want to but you canât 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 youâve 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 didnât 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. Wolfâs lips are so much softer than anything you couldâve imagined. Itâs soft but youâre 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 Wolfâs 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 Wolfâs fingers lingering on the hem of your top.
Fuck, you canât breathe anymore. Fuck, Wolf wouldnât even have to ask for you let him slip his hand under your shirt. Fuck, youâre down bad.
You have to pull apart to take a breath. You really donât want to stop kissing him but you need to breathe.
Your heart is bouncing in your chest and you canât 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 Wolfâs hands force your chin up.
Thereâs 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 donât know how long Iâve 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 doesnât work properly anymore. You kissed Wolf. You initiated it. Not him. You.
Youâve never done this before. Youâve always let the other come forward first. Probably because you can never believe that someone can be into you like that.
Your brain doesnât work properly anymore so you donât care, you close the gap between your lips again. He feels so sweet on you, you want to kiss him until you canât feel your lips anymore.
You melt when Wolf kisses you back as if itâs all he wants too.
Wolf is the first to pull away, aware that things are going to go too far if he doesnât slow down now. He is very close from the edge at this point, dizzy and shaken to the core.
He isnât going to say it but he didnât think he could get more addicted to you. Then you kissed him. Wolf is screwed, he canât deny the hold you have on him.
A breath gets stuck in Wolfâs throat when you gently play with the hair falling on his forehead, "Should we get out of here?"
Wolf doesnât 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 doesnât reach your ears. The faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes donât reach your nose. The surprised looks of people when youâre seen breezing through the crowd with Wolf donât reach your eyes.
You donât 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 Wolfâs bike. Youâve offered him to leave this place but to go where? Truth is you donât 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 isnât 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 itâs too soon, heâs 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, youâre driving me crazy."
The chuckle that comes out of your lips is the cutest thing heâs ever heard. He is really going insane at this point, he doesnât 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 canât just forget things and randomly kiss you, heâs keeping that for later.
"Letâs 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 Iâd pay for the second date but I forgot my wallet!"
Wolfâs body relaxes and you can feel his laugh against your chest, "Thatâs my girl."
AUTHORâS NOTE. omg this was such a wild ride, i hope you enjoyed it (and that wolf wasnât too ooc), anyways, iâm planning to write more for them so if you have ideas for some drabbles, please leave a comment or a private message !!!
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â.Ë PICKUP LINES Ë.â
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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
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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.
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REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!
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
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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!
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BEN PARK: ïœĄïœ„::ïŸâ ,ïœĄïœ„::ïŸââ
After another fight against the Union, Ben walks home very injured. Of course, they had to be on his back about messing up their âplansâ when he didnât 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 doesnât 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.
â(y/n)? What are you doing here?â he approaches you slowly but adverts his gaze as your attention shifts to his arm.
âWh- are you okay? What happened?â you stand up from his porch and walk towards him. You sigh as you look at the glum expression on his face, âCome, let me clean your arm.â
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.
âYou do this a lot?â he asks, watching your careful movements.
âMy siblings always get hurt.â you finish wrapping his arm and look at him, âWhat happened?â
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 canât hide things from you so he takes a deep breath before speaking in a meek tone.
âIt was the Union again. Really, Iâm fine.â
âNo, youâre not. This isnât fine! Iâm worried about you,â you glance at the scar on his other bicep. âI donât want you to get hurt so much.â
He takes a deep breath. He knows youâre 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. âI know, but what am I supposed to do when these guys keep picking fights? Itâs not like I want to get hurt.â He lets out an exasperated sigh.
You hold his hand comfortingly, âI know, Ben. Iâm not blaming you. Iâm just worried that eventually, it wonât be just a scratch thatâs left⊠I just want you to be careful.â He looks into your eyes and rests his head on your shoulder. Itâs as if all his worries disappeared into thin air as he relaxes into your touch.
âOkay, Iâll try.â
âThank you.â 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„::ïŸâ ,ïœĄïœ„::ïŸââ
Being one of the top students in class and a part of Benâs gang, it wasnât 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. âYou can sit at the table, just give me one second.â
You walk to your siblingâs 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. â(s/n)! What are you doing?â you pull her away from your brother and sit her in the corner.
âI made an Elsa burrito..â 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.
â(b/n) wake up, letâs clean you.â 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, âSorry, I just need to wash him. You can start without me.â
Gray nods and opens his notebook. He glances up as the bedroom door opens and your sister tiptoes over to him. âWho are you? Her boyfriend?â
Grayâs eyes widen a bit at the question. âIâm a classmate.â
âOh. Well, Iâm (s/n).â She climbs onto a chair next to him. âIf your work is hard you can ask me. Iâm good at school.â
Gray has an amused look on his face, âOkay, well Iâm Gray. And I need some help on this question right here.â He plays along with your sisterâs antics, showing his notebook to her.
âOh, well thatâs easy.â She takes the notebook and doodles what looks like an apple and 3 stars. âSo, because of the 3 there, you do 3 stars and because of the 1 you do an apple.â She explains her answer.
ââŠI see.â You walk out of the bathroom carrying your brother.
â(s/n), stop bothering my friend! Itâs nap time.â
âAww.. No, weâre having fun..â 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. âSorry, I didnât think they would make that much of a mess.
âItâs fine.â 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 youâve gained an admirer.
GERARD JIN: ïœĄïœ„::ïŸâ ,ïœĄïœ„::ïŸââ
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.
âI want the guitar! I wanna play guitar!â You sigh and lift the boy to his feet. Gerard approaches you and smiles at the boy. âHey (y/n), you okay?â
âHuh? Oh! Yeah, uhm, my brother just really wants a guitar..â You feel embarrassed that Gerard had to see you like this. âHe doesnât even know how to play, so I donât know where he got the idea from.â
âAll my friends have one!â your brother says, cheeks pink and blotchy from his earlier crying.
âYou donât even know how to play!â you shut down his argument right away, not wanting to deal with it any longer. Gerard observes the behaviour and offers a solution.
âUhm, I play guitar. So, I mean, I can teach him.. if he wants.â He says sheepishly, scratching his cheek.
Your eyes light up at his words, âReally? That would be great!â
âYeah, then he can see if he likes playing or not.â He replies. Your brother stands up and jumps up and down. âCan I? Can I, can I?â
ââŠOkay, but only if you promise not to be a bother.â You place a hand on his head to stop him from jumping.
âIâm never a bother!â He glares at you.
âYou were a bother a few minutes ago.â 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„::ïŸâ ,ïœĄïœ„::ïŸââ
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 sisterâs 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.
âHi!â Your younger sister waves to them.
âHi!â They smile and wave back. âWait- Help!â The swing flips upside down and Ben is hanging from it.
âDude! What the fu- uhm.. uh.. hellâŠâ Alex exclaims, correcting himself as he remembers the child next to him.
âUhm, are you okay?â You ask with concern etched on your features.
âMy friend got stuck..â Alex mumbles, embarrassed on Benâs behalf; because he didnât care about how dumb he looked.
âOh, just take his shoes off. I think thatâll help.â 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.
âWhy didnât you think of that before, ya moron!â Ben blames.
âYou were the one who got stuck?!â Alex retorts. He blushes a bit as he faces you, âThank you⊠uh..â He trails off.
â(y/n), and itâs no problem.â 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.
âSo⊠you thought she was cute, huh?â Ben asks, teasingly wriggling his eyebrows; he could read Alex like a book, they have been friends since elementary after all.
âWhat?? Man, shut up..â He replies, flustered by his friendâs sudden claim. But even though he denied it, he might start going to the park more often.
so itâs been very long⊠đđ BUT i may or may not be working on a gojo royalty au so stay tuned. reqs r on their way iâve just been so burnt out lately. if i go on hiatus for like 5 months again feel free to yell at me đđ
"creature of myth."
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pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, itâs too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+Â 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 âsinfulâ, very minor religious themes, fated âmatesâ, 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 âSAY IT, SAY ITâ. 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)
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You remember perfectly the way your motherâs jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. Youâd never seen the man, and you still hadnât. Heâd asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things heâd be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. Youâd 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. Youâd only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the manâs 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.Â
Youâd asked for proof nonetheless, and youâd 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 didnât 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⊠âhauntingâ said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return⊠changedâ if they returned at all.Â
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 youâd never get it.Â
Your wedding wasnât 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.Â
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 youâve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.Â
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you canât bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldnât even show his face for your wedding.Â
The carriage ride is somehow longer than youâd thought it would be- apparently, the castleâs 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 youâve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.Â
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. Itâs⊠terrifying.Â
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.Â
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castleâs 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 itâs not from the cold.Â
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 familyâs annual income.Â
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you donât 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?Â
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than youâve 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 youâve ever dreamed of.Â
âPull this if you need any sort of assistance, maâam.âÂ
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume itâs one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servantsâ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- youâve never seen one in real life before.Â
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. âThank you, um-â you pause, your brow furrowing. âIâm sorry, I donât think I asked your name.âÂ
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like heâd never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. âThomas, maâam.â
You smile and itâs genuine. âThank you, Thomas.âHe bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. âOh, um, Thomas-â He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.Â
âYes, my lady?âÂ
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. âDo you know, um, well-â You shift, trying to word your question properly. âDo you know when I might see the Lord?âÂ
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. âNo, my lady.â
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.Â
Youâre 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 heâs over you?Â
You sigh. Thereâs 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- itâs going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and donât fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. Youâre tired. You didnât sleep much last night, anxious for the morning⊠and itâs only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself itâs a bad idea and then youâre swept away into a world of warm darkness.Â
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that itâs 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 youâve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you donât remember it. Perhaps thatâs a blessing.Â
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 didnât 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. Theyâre worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, theyâre all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.Â
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 youâll be sore for many days to come.Â
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. Youâve 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 youâd pay it gladly.Â
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 youâve finished it doesnât feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.Â
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that itâs still warm, you conclude that it canât 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.Â
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.Â
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-Â
âDo you like them?âÂ
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. Heâs your husband⊠and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing youâve ever seen.Â
He laughs, then, and itâs a warmer sound than youâd thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.Â
âSorry. Didnât mean to scare you,â he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps thatâs a lie.Â
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. Itâs shut. You didnât hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didnât hear footsteps, didnât hear breaths, didnât hear him.Â
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit⊠strained?Â
âI have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.âÂ
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. âYou must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.âÂ
Thereâs a beat, and then footstepsâ 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.Â
âSatoru, please,â he winks and you think you might stop breathing. âI am your husband after all.âÂ
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like⊠that? Thereâs something too unreal about him, too perfect. Itâs almost⊠unsettling.Â
âOf course⊠Satoru.âÂ
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.Â
âSo, do you like them?â Your brows furrow- âThe dresses,â he clarifies.Â
âO-oh.â Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You donât think youâve ever touched something so⊠finely made. âI like them very much. I donât know how to thank you.âÂ
Thereâs a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. Heâs mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes foreverâŠÂ
âNo need to thank me. If they donât fit, weâll call for the seamstress in the morning.âÂ
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. Thereâs 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?
âDid you⊠get dinner?â Itâs a stupid question, you know, but you donât think you can bear another second of that look heâs giving you. âI fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didnât prevent a proper mealâŠâ You trail off. Perhaps you shouldnât have pointed out your own shortcoming?Â
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. âYou did no such thing. Iâm⊠perfectly satisfied.âÂ
You nod, glad that he doesnât seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. Youâve never had a husband before. Wasnât 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.Â
âWell, Iâll see you in the morning then, hm?â His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. âWear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.â He chuckles like heâs just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was⊠not the topic youâd been expecting. âYouâre notâŠâ You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. âNot staying the night?âÂ
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You donât think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesnât stop until youâre nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. Itâs cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.Â
âNot tonight.âÂ
His head dips and for a moment you think heâs going to kiss you, but then heâs 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.Â
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then heâs gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.Â
âGoodnight,â is all he says, and then heâs gone.Â
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.Â
~Â Â
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, youâd 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 directâ you would have remembered sending your measurementsâ you didnât. So had he just⊠guessed?Â
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.Â
When you join Satoru for breakfast itâs 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 heâs drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps heâs just not a breakfast person.Â
âIt fits!â he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.Â
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. âYes, perfectly.â
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals itâs 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.Â
âI hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?âÂ
You glance up, but Satoruâs eyes arenât on you, theyâre on your footman. His smile is bright, but itâs anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.Â
You glance at Thomas. Heâs perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. âY-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.â When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, â-and very respectful.âÂ
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. âPerfect.âÂ
Thereâs a beat and then heâs standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. âWell, I have some work to do. Iâll see you for dinner?â Heâs grinning again, like itâs 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. âSee you then, princess.â And then heâs 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. Itâs like he fears coming too close. Heâs 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 donât 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 donât see so much as a ripple in the curtains.Â
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When itâs finally time to get dressed a ladyâs maid whose name you donât even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough sheâs 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 youâve yet to step foot in.Â
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the placeâ filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think youâve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoruâs already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.Â
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. âHow was your day?â you ask as he takes his seat again.Â
He chuckles. âPerfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?â Your nose crinkles. Thatâs the second time heâs called you that. Something about it feels wrong. Youâre still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.Â
âIt was⊠good.â
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. âOh? Just good?â You donât miss the way his eyes flicker to the cornerâ to Thomas.Â
You hurry to elaborate. âWell, I justâ I canât help but feel as if thereâs not much⊠use for me.â Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.Â
That brow arches impossibly higher. âUse?â His lips crack into that smile again, but itâs tight this time. Too tight. âYou have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.âÂ
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell canât quell the sudden dread in your gut. âOf course! Of course he did.â Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. âIâll just⊠Iâll try riding tomorrow.â You hate riding, but itâs the first thing that comes to mind.Â
Satoruâs smile thaws into something less menacing. âIâm sure youâll enjoy that.âÂ
You nod eagerly. âIâm sure I will.âÂ
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though itâs 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.
Itâs not until several bites later that you realize youâre the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. Heâs only⊠watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.Â
âYouâre not⊠eating?â
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you canât help but feel as if thereâs something⊠menacing about it. âAte before I came.âÂ
Your brows furrow. âOh. Were you on the road?âÂ
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. âNo.âÂ
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesnât eat a bite, doesnât even look enticed. You wonder how thatâs possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.Â
By the time youâve cleared your plate youâve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. Itâs comforting to know a little more about your new home, but itâs not enough.Â
âIs there a library?â you ask. Youâre on dessert now. Itâs the best chocolate cake youâve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.Â
âOf course.â Your husbandâs eyes flicker to Thomas again and youâre honestly starting to fear for the poor footmanâs life. Everytime you ask a question itâs like Satoru is angry it hasnât already been answered. âItâs yours to use as you please.âÂ
You smile lightly. âPerfect. Thank you.âÂ
He softens a bit at that. âIs there anything specific you wanted to read about?âÂ
You shrug. âThe estate, I suppose. I should know my homeâs history, no?â
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. âOh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. Iâll leave them aside for you?âÂ
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. âThat would be perfect. Thank you.âÂ
He chuckles. âMy pleasure.âÂ
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoruâs not far behind you, saying heâll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?Â
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, youâre 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?Â
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. âWill you stay with me tonight?âÂ
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.Â
âNot tonight,â he whispersâ and then heâs gone.Â
~
You wake suddenly. Itâs the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.Â
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.Â
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, youâd rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. Itâs 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.Â
The books Satoru left you are⊠perfect. Just what you were looking for. Theyâre all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. Youâre stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo familyâs 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 informationâ but thereâs one book that doesnât fit with the rest. Itâs relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads âCreatures of Myth and Where To Find Themâ. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the sideâ 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 servantsâ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you canât figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?Â
You decide itâs 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 crownâs ego. The estimates of your husbandâs net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. Itâs⊠unsettling to say the least. Itâs 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.Â
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but youâve 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. Youâve nothing better to do, right?Â
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. âCreatures of Myth and Where to Find Themâ. You donât recognize the authorâs 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.Â
Itâs 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 youâve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblinsâ 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. âVampires [Vampyr]â.Â
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.Â
âContrary 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.âÂ
You purse your lips. What a⊠terrifying thought. You skim a little further.Â
âA vampireâs 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 vampireâs 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 teethâ.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.Â
âVampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.âÂ
Your stomach drops. You donât want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.Â
âVampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a humanâs 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 vampireâs 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.â
You skip ahead again.
âVampires 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 mateâs 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.â
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperateâ 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 âWhere to Find Themâ subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?Â
âVampires 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.âÂ
No, no, no. This canât be happening to you. It canât be real. Youâre dreaming, youâre having one of those nightmares again. Youâre going to wake up any second.Â
âOne tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.âÂ
Youâre panting, hyperventilating. This isnât happening.Â
âSoldiers 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 familyâs 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.âÂ
No, no, no.Â
â(See next page for only existing portrait)â
Your fingers tremble but you canât stop them. Thereâs no way. Itâs not possible.Â
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.Â
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but youâre 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.Â
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. Youâre suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.Â
âHello,â he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.Â
You force a breath into your lungs. âHello,â you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.Â
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. âAre you alright? You seem a little⊠flushed.â The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.Â
âIâm fine,â you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. âIs it time for dinner? Whereâs Thomas?âÂ
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. âThomas has⊠left us.âÂ
No. This wasnât happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.Â
âHe⊠what?â Thereâs an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoruâs face to fall further.Â
âItâs no matter. Heâs gone. Now itâs just you and me, hm?â He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. âIn fact, I was thinking Iâd cut down on the number of servants we have entirelyâŠâÂ
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didnât have. âVampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mateâs safety is usually disposed of quickly.â
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?
âWhat have you been up to today, princess?â The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husbandâs eyes flicker behind you.Â
You wet your lips. âJust some reading.â You plead that he doesnât ask anything further. He does.Â
âAbout the estate?â he asks.Â
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. âYes.â
His smile returns and this time itâs not forced. âYou got my books, then?âÂ
You try smiling back, but youâre fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. âYes.â
âAnything interesting?â he presses.
This isnât happening. This canât be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? âYes, of course. Lots.âÂ
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think itâs the first time youâve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. âI think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.â
You donât even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until heâs shutting your door behind him. He doesnât stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and youâre falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
âWho knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time⊠You must be simply spilling with information.âÂ
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. Youâre trapped.
His hands find your hips and youâre all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
âSatoru-â your voice is pitiful, breathless, and youâre ashamed to say itâs not just from the fear in your gut. Heâs never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. âThomas-âÂ
âDonât speak his name.â His face pulls into the first scowl youâve 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. Itâs wrong. âHeâs gone. Heâll never bother you again.â Heâs closer now, his breath skating over your skin. Itâs cool and now you know the reason why.Â
You shake and tremble and you knowâ Thomas is dead. Your husband killed himâ killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.Â
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. âThought I could put up with it, just so youâd have someone to take care of youâŠâ He groans. âI was so wrong, princess. Couldnât stand it. Couldnât stand the way you smelled more like him than meâŠâÂ
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. âBut heâs gone. And now itâs just you and me, hm? Just you and meâŠâ He hums, like remembering that fact is all heâs ever needed.
Heâs 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. Heâs a killer, of thousands no doubt. Youâve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. Youâre not even the same species. Heâs something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.Â
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 donât. You canât. Itâs too⊠good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what youâre sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse⊠itâs intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?Â
âHave you figured it out yet, love?â Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. âI can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?âÂ
He knows you know. But heâs going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. âYouâreâŠâ Your breaths come faster. You canât. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too⊠real.Â
âYessss?â he prods. Heâs licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.Â
âYouâre notâŠâ Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.Â
âGo on, princess.â You think heâs just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.Â
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. âNot human,â 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. âThatâs good,â he purrs. âBut I think you can be a little more specific, no?â His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw⊠âTell me.âÂ
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You donât want to say it, donât want to speak it into existence, but you also donât dare to disobey him.Â
âYouâre aâŠâ You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
âMhm?âÂ
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. âVampire.âÂ
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. âThatâs right, princess. So smart.âÂ
He smiles and you suddenly realize youâve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you itâs close-lipped and dimpled. But this⊠this is the smile of a predatorâ all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.Â
âShhhhh,â he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. âI wonât hurt you, love.â You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. âNot unless you want me to.â He wiggles a brow like itâs just a little joke, like heâs not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.Â
âSatoru,â you beg. Youâre not sure what youâre begging for. Release maybe? But, no, thatâs not right. You donât want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. âWhy did you pick me?âÂ
The question slips out. You hadnât even been thinking about it, hadnât 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. âDo you think about that a lot, princess?âÂ
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.Â
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. âWellâŠâ he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. âAt first I wanted you for this.â His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. âYou smellâŠâ he chuckles. âLike heaven. Which is a place Iâll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?â He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. âWent 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.â Heâs still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. âWent crazy, princess. Didnât think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.â He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. âBut then I saw youââ he groans and something clenches deep at your center. âAnd I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.â Heâs rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. âWent to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldnât stay away. Knew I had to have you.â You feel him smile against your skin. âAfter a week I couldnât take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.â He groans again. âThen I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearinâ you talk to me, look at me.â Teeth graze your pulse. âNeeded you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookinâ at those dresses.â You whine when his hips roll into you again. âOh, but I knew I couldnât. Youâre so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, âfraid 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.â He panting, like heâs so pent up he can hardly sit still. âDo you trust me, princess?âÂ
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You canât. âYes,â you breathe.Â
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. âGood girl.âÂ
Youâre on your back. It happens so fast your eyes donât even have time to gasp. You donât 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. âSo good, princess. Letâs get you out of this dress, yeah?âÂ
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 canât 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.Â
âI always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,â 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.Â
âSatoru,â you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.Â
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. âYou wanna see me too?â You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. âAlright.âÂ
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like heâs been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.Â
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. Youâve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. Heâs art, you think- nothing less.Â
âTouch me, princess,â he says. You canât. You shouldnât. Heâs too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. âNeed a little help?â he asks, and thereâs a lilt in his voice that makes you sure heâs grinning.Â
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 heâs laughing again and heâs 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.Â
âNot so fast,â he says, like he wasnât 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 youâll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell heâsÂ
thinking the same thing. âYou touch me, now I touch you, yeah?â Thereâs a tug and a tear and then so much⊠cold. Youâve never realized how cold this castle is, not until youâre exposed to its elements fully. Youâre naked.Â
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. Itâs too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-Â
âNo.â Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. âLet me see you,â he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.Â
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. Thereâs 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 youâreâÂ
âBeautiful,â he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. âBeautiful,â he says again, and then heâs 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. Youâre not sure itâs entirely from his temperature.Â
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if heâs sucking your soul out through your lips. âTell me youâve never done this before,â he begs. âTell me Iâm the first to touch you.âÂ
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what heâs already giving you. âY-Youâre the first,â you whisper.Â
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. âYes,â he breathes, and you shiver again. âLie back, princess.â Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear youâre not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. âDonât worry. Iâll be gentle.âÂ
You pray he means that. âJust relax, love. Here, hold my hand.â 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 heâs committing you to memory, itâs nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.Â
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.Â
âTell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?â 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 itâs the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. Itâs shameful, itâs dirty, itâs- âDonât think Iâll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.âÂ
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. âY-yes,â you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.Â
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. âOn the outside or the inside?âÂ
Your eyes widen. I-inside? Youâd never considered that⊠âJ-just the outside,â you answer.Â
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. âWell, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?âÂ
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he meansâ 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. âSomebodyâs sensitive,â he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. âTry to stay still. I promise itâll feel good.â
You nod hopelessly, but this time youâre prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasnât your own. But then itâs more. Itâs languid, slow circles around a spot that youâve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. Itâs heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. Itâs relaxation that youâve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.Â
Thereâs a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. âGood girl. Feels nice, yeah?â 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. âItâs about to feel even nicer.âÂ
By the time you realize what heâs doing itâs far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but heâs 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. âStop that, princess.â Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. âRock into me like this.â His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. âGood girl,â he says and your heart rises right back up. âKeep doing that, now.â You donât 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. âThatâs it, love,â he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. âHere, put your hand in my hair.â He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. Theyâre even softer than youâd imagined. âGood girl,â he whispers and suddenly heâs taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. ââM gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.â Your chin wobbles. âIt might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?â You canât do anything but nod.Â
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. âRelaaaaaax, love,â he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouthâÂ
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 intrusionâ but itâs already too late. Thereâs a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then heâsâ laughing?Â
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoruâs hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated inâ blood, you realize. Your blood. And heâs a fucking vampire.Â
âOh princess,â he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. âYou really are perfect.âÂ
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. Youâre sure youâve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like heâs ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.Â
When he pulls his finger from his mouth itâs completely licked clean. You hold your breath. Heâs going to go for your neck now, right? Heâs had a taste and now heâll want more of it, all of it?
âFuck,â is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you donât even see him move.Â
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 doesnât 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. Heâs lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like youâre a fucking gold mine. Heâs 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.Â
Youâre not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You donât 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 doesnât 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.Â
âYes. Yes. Give it to me.âÂ
âS-Satoruââ 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 youâve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and thenâ 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 donât 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.Â
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.Â
Thereâs a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and youâre suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, youâre not done.Â
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 heâs holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isnât working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.Â
âS-Satoruââ
âItâs alright, love.â His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. âJust stay still.âÂ
You whimper, but you donât think heâs paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.Â
Youâve 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 couldnât help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurtâŠ
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. âGonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.â His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. âStay still, now.â
Itâs all the warning he gives you. You feel like youâre splittingâ straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.Â
âSatoru, p-please! ItâsââÂ
Lips catch yoursâ 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. Itâs 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 itâs no use. By the time heâs 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 youâve only just begun.
âGood girl,â he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. âTook me so well.â 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 heâs quick to comfort. âJust hold my hand, princess.â His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. Youâre panting as he chuckles. âBreathe, love. Breathe. Soon youâll be begging for more,â he laughs. Itâs not long before heâs rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first itâs all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then itâs⊠more. Itâs heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. Itâs 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.Â
âFeel good, princess?â You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels goodâ it feels right. He chuckles, but thereâs nothing light about the sound. âWanna feel even better?â 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.Â
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. âJust a taste, love. I promise it wonâ hurt.â His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. âYouâll feel sâ good anâ Iâll only take a little.â He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. âPromise.â He sounds breathless, like heâs 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. âCome on, love. Say yes. Say yes fâ me.â Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. Heâs desperate now, seeking a release that you donât think is any kind youâre familiar with. âYes, yes, yes,â he chants in your ear. Youâre 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.Â
âYes,â you whisper.Â
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savageâ 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. Youâd thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesnât. 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 donât 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.Â
Heâs 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.Â
âSatoruâŠâ You hadnât noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why⊠ââM gonnaâŠâÂ
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.Â
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. Itâs an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.Â
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. Heâs moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.Â
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. Thereâs a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You canât 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.Â
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You donât think youâll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.Â
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. âNo, princess.â He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. âI took more than I should haveâŠâ His expression doesnât tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. âBut what can I say? You just taste so good.â 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. âYou taste like mine.â
You whine. More, more, more. Itâs 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.Â
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.Â
âNot yet, princess.â he coos. âBut soon.â His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until youâre trembling again. âForever,â he whispers.
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taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000
please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading âĄ
HELL YEAHH MANN i acc love these
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idk the character maker reminds me of sbg
pov: youâre in a horror film
1. Create your own look here
2. Find out what role you are here
I was tagged by @willowmckinley and Iâm tagging @thylacinedream and @magically-with-magic
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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"
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Plot twist
so clearly i lied⊠đ đ
hey guys⊠itâs been a while⊠đđ how are you all? (oh my god i havenât posted in a WHILE pls dont kill me) iâve been busy with work đđ pls know i am working on reqs and have not forgotten abt my tangled series đȘđȘwhen iâm less busy iâll be on that grind đŻđŻ (sorry LMAO)
I LOVE BRO
THE EYE TWITCHES??? HES SO CUTE
wolf keum â eye twitch
summary : âcanât you believe what you see?â youâre 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 â angst (i mean⊠wolf)
warnings : best friends to lovers, angst, fighting, blood, injuries, bad communication, harsh words, jealousy, wolfâs a bit ooc, stalking because wolfâs actually obsessed?!?!
authorâs note : 1st time writing for weak hero and it had to be for wolf!ÂĄ! if you like this pairing iâm considering writing drabbles for them so throw a comment if youâd 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, Wolfâs empty seat. He did offer you to skip the last classes of the day ânot 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 wasnât 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 Donaldâs 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.
Youâre 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 donât spot Wolfâs 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 :
đș đ
last min meeting with donald
iâll text you when iâm done
Well, it looks like your weekend is off to a rookie start. You just hope Wolf isnât in trouble. You know he isnât the best at keeping a low profile âeven when Donald demands it, so, even if you know that Wolf wasnât involved in any big confrontation recently, you canât help but worry a little.
. . .
You were never a bad student. It doesnât mean youâve 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 isnât even interesting. Absentmindedly, your eyes land on your phone. No texts from Wolf. Itâs ten at night. Youâre 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.
Wolfâs 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 âmost of the time without warning, itâs 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 itâs definitely the first time heâs seen that one.
He raises an eyebrow, "Didnât take you for a princess kind of girl."
"Uh?"
Wolf doesnât 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 donât smoke," he says as he climbs into your bedroom. "Or fight."
"Good thing Iâm 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.
"Youâre staring."
You blink, almost choking on your sip, and nudge him with your foot. You absolutely hate when Wolf does that. You donât know if those glasses give him superpowers but itâs 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 supporterâs 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 âthey always assume they are stronger than women, to utterly terrified and ashamed when you throw them to the ground. Whatâs even more exciting is that these boys usually donât even have enough time to try and touch you that theyâre 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.
"Sâalright," Wolf replies.
Sâalright? you repeat in your head. Well, thatâs 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 Wolfâs attitude changed in a second. You donât know what happened but you donât like what youâre 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 youâre not eighteen yet. Well, in a few months but, legally, youâre not allowed in.
You miss the way an almost unseen expression flashes in Wolfâs eyes for less than a second and he shakes his head, "No, Iâm good here."
Well, thatâs even weirder. Wolfâs 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. Youâre not persuasive enough since heâs 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 wasnât 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 libraryâs 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 youâve 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 doesnât 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 doesnât seem interested in dating. Hell, even flirting seems to bore him out of his mind. Youâve 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 itâs 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, itâs just as dangerous. You know Wolf isnât 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 youâd 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.
. . .
Youâve 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 Wolfâs 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.
Itâs 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 âhe even attended more classes, you canât stand whatâs 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 whatâs 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 wasnât 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 canât 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, youâre 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.
Thatâs it, you said it. Itâs too late to back out now.
Wolfâs 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 doesnât necessarily mean in a romantic way. You like all of your friends and are never scared to tell them.
You scratch your throat, "IâI meant, hm, not just as a⊠friendâ"
"Yeah, I got that."
Wolfâs voice is as sharp as ice when he interrupts you. Itâs as harsh as your motherâs hand colliding against your cheek.
That is a good thing you prepared yourself for the worst case scenario. Because it looks like itâs 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 didnât know before?"
You canât stop the blush warming up your face. You didnât think it was so easy to read you.
"I thought you were smarter than this, honestly," he says with a snicker. "I donât need friends, even less a girlfriend."
Okay, you werenât expecting such harsh words. What does he mean he doesnât need friends? Was your friendship with Wolf a product of your imagination? It couldnât 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 Donaldâs 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 Wolfâs words were lies âyou 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 didnât 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 couldnât cry now. Not in front of him.
You glare at him, "There was no need to talk to me like that."
Wolfâs 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, youâre looking at him like he is an enemy.
"You couldâve just said you didnât 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. Heâs 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 youâd like.
Was it always fake on his part? Was it just part of Donaldâs 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, whyâre you crying?"
You stop at the masculine voice. Who dares speak to you when you are literally going through a heartbreak? You really donât have the strength to snap at anyone right now.
"Come here, baby," the man says again. "I promise youâll be the happiest girl when I take care of you."
You donât 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 youâre 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.
"Weâre going to a club, you should come," the first man says. "I promise you wonât 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 arenât giving up, you think. You just want to go home, you donât know what else you have to do to show them you arenât 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 Wolfâs. 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 donât 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.
Youâre 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 didnât want to fight tonight, that wasnât your plan.
You just wanted to confess to your best friend, when you still hoped he would confess as well.
Now, youâre scarred, face and knuckles seeping with blood, slightly limping and latching your fingers on the ripped hem of your top.
You donât 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 âone 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 isnât first in the girlsâ Shuttle Patch for nothing," Timothy notes.
. . .
You didnât go to school for three days after that incident. Your parents saw the state you were in and didnât even try to fight you. They didnât 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 didnât listen to a word Donald said during the meeting. He didnât 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 didnât need to know what he was doing.
When Hwangmo finally showed up on the roof, Wolf didnât 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?
"Whatâs with them?"
Wolf let out a sigh, locking his phone before his eyes could look at the texts sent by that unknown number.
"Theyâre threatening (Y/N)."
And that is why he rejected you that night. He didnât 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 didnât 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 didnât know what these people were capable of.
If they had been threatening him, Wolf wouldnât 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 Jakeâs voice. He grimaces at him, "Whatâre you talking about?"
"Those who attacked (Y/N)."
The world spins when Wolf understands why you didnât come to school for three days. Were you attacked⊠No, Wolf couldnât 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⊠didnât tell you?"
Wolf doesnât say anything about Jakeâs innuendo. Most of the people in the Union âor 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?"
. . .
Youâre a great fighter and youâre used to the bruises and cuts but you canât 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. Youâve been binge watching animes for the last four days and you donât 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. Youâre wearing your « lazy » pajamas, as you like to call them. An oversized tshirt and shorts. Heâs seen you in those a lot. Big bags under your eyes, Wolf knows it means you didnât 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 doesnât budge, instead pointing a finger at you, "Whatâs this?"
"Makeup," you snark, finally letting your eyes connect with his. "Iâm considering a career in special effects."
His jaw clenches at your sarcastic tone, that is something heâs always liked. Not now, though.
"Now, if youâll 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 Wolfâs cold gaze on you, "You thought I wouldnât 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 Wolfâs face, the one he carried when you confessed. The one you didnât understand. But, honestly, youâre done with him. What brings him here?
"Canât you just let me be?" you rage. "Didnât you do enough last time? Wanna go at it again?"
"Youâre so fucking dumb sometimes, Y/N."
Thatâs when you lose it. For the second time this week, you attack first. How dare he call you dumb when youâre just⊠sad and confused?
Wolf, whoâs 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 youâre so good at fighting.
In the blink of an eye, youâre pressed against a wall with Wolfâs 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? Whatâs your fucking problem!"
Wolf doesnât express feelings often. Besides anger. That he knows how to express. Itâs easy, all he has to do is count to three. You, on the other hand, bring other feelings into action. Feelings he doesnât understand himself.
But seeing how determined you are to get out of his grasp, you whoâs always so keen to be gentle to him, is enraging.
He snaps, "I didnât fucking mean what I said last time!"
Your heart stops at his words but isnât it too late now? You relax against his hands but a snicker fills the silence, "Right, of fucking course."
Wolf blinks in confusion, youâre smirking and rolling your eyes at him. Youâre⊠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 wonât let you go away so easily. No, instead, he pushes you back against the wall and you barely have time to understand whatâs 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 canât 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 youâll have a bruise shaped like his fingers tomorrow morning.
It feels so good, you donât 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, youâre 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 donât 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 youâve fantasized about for way too long.
But you push him away.
He looks at you in confusion and you donât linger on his lips, theyâre swollen and you donât want the memory to ever be engraved in your mind.
"I⊠You canât be doing that," you pant with trembling lips. "Maybe you didnât mean what you said but I canât 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 itâs like he is everywhere you are.
First, he attends more classes. You wouldnât 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 âwait 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 itâs like your eyes canât 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 âmixed with the pain inflicted, but your heart still flutters at the simple thought of him.
You canât 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, "Wolfâs 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 youâre 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 doesnât have the right to give that type of look. Thatâs the type of thing that only happens in movies, the type of scene that would have you screaming in your pillow before youâd start internally complaining that this never happens in real life.
You want to punch that smirk off his face, "This isnât funny, Wolf. You canât erase everything by acting like a stalker."
What you donât 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 isnât about to make the same mistake twice.
Wolfâs smirk vanishes and he blinks, "Youâre pretty."
Suddenly, you donât 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 wouldnât join the Union anytime soon. Especially not after what had recently happened. And Wolf was smart enough to know that fixing your relationship wouldnât change your mind on that.
Wolf can tell your mind is racing, he knows because you always do this thing with your eyebrows when youâre 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 youâve 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.
"Letâs go," you deadpan, "I donât wanna be here anymore."
"What?! No, come on, Y/N," Minji pouts.
"Please⊠I donât feel good."
Yujin raises an eyebrow, "Hey, we donât know what happened between you and Wolf. You donât have to say a thing about it if you donât want to."
No, you donât 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 wouldnât be in this situation.
"Thereâs nothing to say, I just donât 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 donât get why you think it wasnât real?" Yujin says with a chuckle. "Wolfâs been obsessed with you forever."
"Preach!" Minji wooed, giving Yujin a high five. "I think youâve 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 youâll have no other choice but to confront him. But what is there to say? Can you two fix things?
Deep down, youâre terrified to forgive him but hold a tiny piece of grudge on the inside. Because thatâs what could cause your relationship to break in the long run. Wouldnât it be best to end things right now?
Your heart aches at the thought. Because you want things to get fixed. Hell, youâd 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 youâre standing.
Wolfâs eyes flicker to you and you donât waste a second, latching a hand around his wrist and tugging him away from there.
This time, youâre walking with a purpose and you roll your eyes when you hear Wolf snickering behind you. He can judge you all he wants, youâre walking out of this place with him.
You squint your eyes when the cold breeze hits your face but you donât halt your footsteps, the streets are too crowded, you need to be alone with Wolf.
"Ah, whereâs the princess taking me?"
"Shut up."
Wolf laughs a little louder, "Bossy, even with me."
Finally, you find the perfect place. An empty kidsâ 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 doesnât know why it does something different to him when itâs 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 itâs enough for you to notice.
You know itâs best for you to wait, Wolf isnât one to talk much and you know youâre asking for a lot. But your mind runs wild with the possibilities.
"Thereâs nothing to explain."
Oh yeah, you should have expected that. Typical Wolf. Youâre glaring, the words coming out sharply out of your mouth, "Why did you lie?"
Another beat of silence and youâre growing more fed up by the minute, "Did you even fucking lie?"
"You donât need to know."
"Are you serious right now?!" you scoff and you groan when Wolfâs blank expression doesnât budge. "I canât fucking believe you, do I have to⊠beg you?"
"Donât 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."
Youâre completely out of words, what is wrong with him. Is he serious right now?
"Y/N, I canât kiss my friends."
You throw daggers at him with your eyes, "Stop, this isnât funny."
"Iâm not joking."
"I donât 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.
"Canât 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 theyâre 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 youâd seen all day and you were literally fawning over the little fur ball. You felt Wolfâs 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 didnât 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, Wolfâs eyes were already on you.
Maybe youâve 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 donât, you feel like youâll 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 didnât 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. Wolfâs 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.
Wolfâs eyes are half opened but youâre 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."
Youâre 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 Wolfâs throat when you feel his thumb stroking your thigh and you pull away for good before it all becomes too much. Youâre 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. Youâre too busy fixing the strap of your dress and soothing the beating of your heart to see Wolfâs 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.

can't believe this incredible author has the exact same tastes as mine
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me @ my mutuals
reblog if youâve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. Iâm trying to see something
POV: you're looking for weak hero content
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Big day for annoying people (Suguru stans)
prompts
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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.
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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"
this was amazing wtf
national anthem - gojo satoru
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â©âË.ââŸââșâ⧠10k follower event special! â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
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©âË.ââŸââșââ§
[ iâm your national anthem, god youâre so handsome, take me to the hamptons, bugatti, veyron // he loves to romance âem reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon // he says to be cool but, i donât know how yet // wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck ]
â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
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 olâ 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 didnât 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 wasnât 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 whoâd 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 couldâve prepared her for the whirlwind of their first official meeting.
âSo youâre the new Special Grade meat!âÂ
Sheâs startled as soon as she approaches the group of three. Sheâd been all smiles, ready to hold out her hand and introduce herself properly, but it appeared theyâd already known all about her.
âShut up Satoru, you sound like a douchebag,â 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. âDonât mind him, heâs always like that. Iâm Geto, but everyone calls me Suguru anyways, so you can tooâÂ
âAlright,â She says through an airy laugh. âThen Iâm (y/n)... the Special Grade meatâ
Suguru shares the laugh as he drops his hand, and suddenly the white haired one is darting forward, pushing him aside just as heâd done to him moments ago, and grabbing (y/nâs) 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. Â
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.
âGojo Satoru!â He introduces, still shaking her hand. âBut you already knew that, right?âÂ
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 hadnât 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 wouldâve ticked her off, but for some reason, thereâs a compulsion to her amusement in him. Slowly, her bewildered expression morphs into one of pleasant surprise.
âCanât say I had the slightest idea,â 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 managerâs due diligence in giving her the names of her new colleagues, but she wasnât about to treat him to that information. âBut I do now,â Her smile brightens, âYouâre the guy with the white hairâÂ
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 hadnât 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 Satoruâs 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 didnât 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 sheâd been gathering up static for so long and it was dying to leap right out of her. It would be overwhelming, if he wasnât the sorcerer he was.
âAlways noticed for my looks first,â He sighs dramatically, and (y/n) raises a brow at him, slightly amused, slightly intrigued. âBut I guess weâll have that in common, huh, Special Grade?â
Before sheâs given any real time to react, or even process what heâs said, heâs interrupted.Â
âAlright, thatâs enough of you, youâre making us all look bad now,âÂ
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.
âYou wonât get used to him, so get used to knowing that now,â The girl says, capturing (y/nâs) attention. âIâm Shoko, Iâll be your best friend here, alright? Donât let him get too comfortableâÂ
(y/n) giggles, introducing herself yet again with a shy fit of laughter.
âSeems like he gets comfortable pretty quick,â She muses, casting a glance over to where Suguru was trying to drag his friend away. He didnât seem to be winning that fight, and it wasnât long before Gojo was going boneless against him. âSo, small class size, huh?âÂ
âYeah, well, not a lot of jujutsu sorcerers out there,â Shoko shrugs. âAnd⊠we had a few transfers to Kyoto. Which were totally not due to that idiotâ She adds the second part under her breath, but when (y/n) laughs, she does too.
âWell, Iâll try not to transfer, thenâÂ
Shoko brightens, just a little bit, but enough to be noticed.
(y/nâs) sure sheâll stay true to her word. Besides, it had seemed like her time at Jujustu Tech would prove to be interesting⊠maybe even fun.
â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
The smell of tobacco wasnât 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 Shokoâs window, as theyâd visibly relaxed once theyâd sparked up.
It didn't matter that (y/n) didnât 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 canât stop anxiously glancing over to the two of them as they smoked.
âYouâre not a smoker, huh?âÂ
Sheâd 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.
âHuh?â Sheâs lost at first, but it only takes a short nod of his head towards the window for her mind to catch up. âOh, um, I guess Iâve never really smoked before, but, no, Iâm not a smokerâ
Itâs unexplainable, the way she stammers over her explanation like itâs a lie. Because itâs the complete truth. Sheâd never smoked a cigarette in her life, and sheâd 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.
âYouâve never tried it?â Gojo tilts his head curiously, and for a moment she thinks he resembles a cat, but before she could tell him the connection, heâs 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.
âDid you buy this yesterday?â 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. âJeez, addicts much?âÂ
âRelax, Satoruâ 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 theyâd been having before Gojo had so rudely interrupted them.
Itâs not until heâs returning to her spot on the floor and taking a seat beside her that she realizes why heâs done this.
âHere ya are,â He grins, holding the items out to her in both hands. (y/nâs) 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. âWhat, you donât wanna try it?â
âI just⊠I meanâŠâ She struggles to give him a proper reason. She doesnât want to hurt anyoneâs feelings, because she couldnât care less what other people chose to do, but she wasnât about to lie to him and say she was ecstatic to get a taste of the thing she knows is bad for her. âI donât think Iâd like itâŠâÂ
âWell, thatâs alright,â Gojo chuckles as he shrugs his shoulders. âI hate it. Itâs nasty,âÂ
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 Gojoâs already turned back to (y/n).
âIt reeks. And it burns a bit. And honestly? Iâd rather spend the money on mochi,â He tells her honestly, and it earns him a giggle, so he smiles a little wider. âBut you deserve to at least try it, right?â He asks, wiggling the lighter at her. âJust to say you did it?âÂ
âIâm not really wired that way,â She admits, her laughter turning nervous, but nonetheless, she finds herself plucking the lighter from his fingers. âWhy try something I know Iâll hate?â She asks, and generally, itâs a rhetorical question, but Gojoâs answer does have her curious.
âBecause,â He shrugs again. âTrying new things is the fun part,â He suggests, before adding, âAnd just because you canâÂ
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 doesnât even realize how fluidly sheâs twirling the small object between her fingers like it was a trick of misdirection, but Gojo finds amusement in how easily and quickly sheâs able to maneuver it about the back of her knuckles.
âI canât say I have an argument for that,â She tells him finally, turning to him with a small smile, and her hand outstretched. âBut when I hate it, you canât be madâÂ
He doesnât place the cigarette in her palm like sheâs expecting, instead raising it towards her lips, flicking it slightly to prompt her to open her mouth.
âDonât bite down too hard, youâll ruin it,â 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. âAnd the taste of tobacco is awful,â 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.
âWant me to light it for you?â He asks, and now heâs 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.
âAlright, donât overthink it,â He says, leaning forward a little closer with the lighter in hand. âIâll light it, and all you gotta do is breathe in. Not too harsh, just a little inhale, got it?âÂ
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 couldnât hurt, right? If she fed his ego just a little bit?Â
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. Â
Gojo chuckles quietly, taking the cigarette from between her fingers as he stands up for a moment. Heâs sitting again just a second later, passing her a bottle of water that she takes and chugs down greedily. Heâs still laughing when he passes the cigarette to the window dwellers.
âSo you were right, huh?â He asks her after sheâs 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.
âBut at least you tried it?âÂ
Finally pulling the bottle away, she turns to face him again. Her brows are pinched together with annoyance, but thereâs a flicker of a smile on her lips that Satoru canât ignore. It makes his heart beat at a disastrously wild pace. It makes him grin.
âOh, Iâll be telling everyone you peer pressured me,â She tells him assuredly, to which he scoffs, but before he could argue, she continues. âBut⊠at least I tried itâÂ
The momentary defensive stature heâd taken relaxes just as quickly, and he even laughs a bit.
âAtta girl, Special Grade,â He teases. âThatâs the spiritâÂ
She rolls her eyes, but sheâs smiling as she picks up her magazine and settles back against the wall in a comfortable position. Gojo doesnât have much interest in fashion, but he sits beside her and follows along as she flips through it anyways. Â
She supposes itâs because he has no interest in smoking with the others, that this was the better option. He supposes itâs just because her shampoo smelled so light and fruity that he wouldnât mind lingering around just a bit longer.
â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
[gojo s.] are you up?? 1:46 a.m.
[y/n] itâs 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/nâs) 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 wasnât there a curfew?
Sheâs 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 wouldnât hurt, right?Â
Sure enough, when she pulls the curtain aside just enough to look outside, Gojo Satoru is standing out there. He mustâve been expecting her to check, because heâs 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, sheâs getting an incoming call. With a huff, she answers it and brings the phone to her ear.
âGojo Satoru, what the hell are you doing outside my-âÂ
âI knew youâd be down!â Heâs 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 heâd caused. âGet dressed and hop on out!âÂ
âHop on out-? What are you talking about?âÂ
âDonât you wanna go do something fun?âÂ
âRight now?â She lets out a humorless laugh. âGojo, itâs the middle of the night, Iâve been trying to sleepâÂ
âI canât sleep either,â He replies, completely missing the point, but itâs only then that she starts to hear him out. âI need a midnight snack,â He adds, this time his voice filled with itâs usual syrupy level of glee. âIâm sure itâd help you, too!âÂ
Itâs a ridiculous idea. She had training in about five hours from now, and so far tonight she hadnât gotten a wink of sleep. Gojo Satoru mightâve been all powerful, but that didnât mean he had power over her, he couldnât 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, sheâs at her dresser and pulling off her pajamas before sheâs even given him a verbal response.
âI hear movement, are you getting dressed?â He asked her, full of hope and excitement.
âYes,â She huffs as she gets into her uniform slacks. They were the only pants she owned that werenât 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.
âOh good-!âÂ
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 didnât 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 sheâs got her window open and sheâs swinging a leg out, though.
âCome on down, Juliet, Iâll catch you!â 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.
âMove out of the way, Gojoâ She hisses down at him, but he only extends his arms, waving his fingers at her to prompt her to come down already.
Heâd 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 didnât need him to catch her, but heâs right in front of her anyways, hands settling on her shoulders as if she wasnât standing before him in perfect condition.
âGood?â He asks, and heâs still grinning ear to ear, but itâs a little different.
Sheâs not sure how she didnât notice before, but he wasnât 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 couldâve 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.
âYeah- yeah,â She chokes on her answer, and quickly averts her gaze before he could tease her for staring at him so blatantly. âLetâs just get going, I donât want to get caughtâÂ
âIâd never get us caught,â Gojo scoffs, apparently offended that she could even think such a thing. âBesides, youâve got a clean track record, youâd probably get off easy anywaysâÂ
She rolls her eyes at him as they start their trek off campus, but she canât help the small smile of amusement on her face. Gojo wasnât wrong, she did have a squeaky clean record, which sheâd proudly maintained since transferring here, but nowâŠ
It wasnât that she was aiming to rebel, she didnât need to do anything crazy, but that didnât mean she couldnât live a little⊠right? And what was one trip to a twenty-four hour convenience store in the grand scheme of things?Â
âHas anyone ever told you youâre obnoxious?â She asks, but her voice betrays her with soft fondness, and itâs obvious that Gojo notices with the way he looks over at her with the largest, stupidest grin on his face.
âNever with a straight face,â 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 doesnât. She just laughs with him and doesnât argue. âYou can admit you like my company, I wonât tell anyone,â He adds, only partially teasing. ââPromiseâÂ
âYou better keep that promise,â (y/n) mutters back. âFor whatever her odd reason, Shoko thinks Iâm cool, and Iâd like to keep that statusâÂ
âThatâs because you perform your twisted little cursed technique on her every time she asks,â Gojo says. âShokoâs got an obsession with the occult, and you are certainly all things occultâÂ
The corner of her lips tilt into a smirk. She wouldnât necessarily agree, but he wasnât wrong about her cursed technique. With the ability to access anyoneâs thread of fate- that little string hidden in their soul that keeps them alive as long as itâs intact- her cursed technique was a bit more involved than the other Special Gradesâ sheâd met thus far. Â
It was gruesome when executed on an assignment, Gojo had seen it first hand only once. With a plunge of her hand into a curseâs body sheâd 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. Sheâd 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 mightâve been warping her curiosity, but she was always delighted when cursed energy would encase (y/nâs) hand and sheâd reach right into her body as if she phased right through the skin and bones, before retrieving that solid black thread.
âAre you saying that Iâm not cool?â (y/n) asks Gojo suddenly, and sheâs only messing with him, but he backtracks instantly.
âI never said that!â He shouts, his voice echoing over the empty path they walked into town. âYouâre easily the coolest person Iâve ever met, (y/l/n) (y/n). You put the special in Special Grade for sure!âÂ
That has her rolling her eyes again, even though sheâs laughing at the stupid line.
âThere are more interesting qualities about you than a cursed technique, thatâs all,â
The sudden genuine comment has her laughter fading and a look of quiet surprise overtaking her features when she looks back at him. Heâs 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, heâd 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.
âLike, yeah, I have the Six Eyes and Iâm mastering Infinity and sure, I suppose I am the strongest being on this earth, maybe ever,â He starts to ramble, and (y/n) can practically feel the idiot comment making itâs way out. âBut Iâm more than that. Iâm also⊠really handsome,âÂ
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.
âWhat? Itâs true!â He barks in offense when she laughs. âIâm ridiculously handsome- itâs almost too much hotness for one man to carry alone!âÂ
âUh-huhâÂ
âSo you agree? Iâm ridiculously handsome?â He grins like he actually caught her in something, and she laughs again.
âI didnât say that,â But she didnât exactly deny it either, did she? âBut more importantly, youâre ridiculously rich, and youâre buying me mochi, tooâÂ
And just like him, sheâll bury the budding sparks of feelings she doesnât want to admit she has in order to preserve something more long lasting. Friendship. Sheâd never had friends like this before, people who understood her so deeply, people who took an interest in her even when their interests didnât 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.
âPfft, fine,â Satoru mutters in mock annoyance. âWas jusâ gonna buy it anywaysâÂ
â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
After that, Gojo Satoru has a knack for getting (y/n) to sneak out of her dorm past curfew. He wasnât always dragging her off campus, oftentimes theyâd just sit on the roof, or wander the courtyards, but there was the occasional midnight snack run that heâd insist on taking her on. One time he insisted on showing her how heâd refined his technique, so she sat around for a good two hours while he just showed off. This wasnât necessarily out of character for him, so she sat and gave him her attention even though her time wouldâve 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 couldnât feel irritation towards him. Not that he couldnât get under skin, itâs 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 sheâd 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 wasnât 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 wasnât 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.
âI think Nanami is a worthy sorcerer, I donât have any problem with his companyâ She shrugs with her words, before leaning back on her elbows. Â
The tiles of the roof werenât 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.
âItâs nothing to do with that,â Satoru mutters, a bitterness to his words that she didnât 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 couldnât hold back. âYouâre more than capable of taking that assignment alone. Youâre Special Grade. You donât need some first year- or anyone- to partner up with you,âÂ
Just as sheâs about to open her mouth to come to Nanami Kentoâs defense, she seals her lips tight. It wasnât about Nanamiâs ability at all, she realized, as Gojo set his gaze firmly on the horizon. It was about hers.
âThe higher ups never want to admit when someone is stronger than them, probably âcause theyâre scared weâll overthrow them, or something,â He mumbles the last part, but (y/n) has a feeling thereâs more feelings brewing beneath the surface of his bitterness. âThey want to morph into this strong⊠thing⊠but then as soon as you actually achieve their ridiculous expectations theyâll spend the rest of your life doing everything they can to remind you that youâre notâŠâ He trails off for a moment, and even though heâs 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, â... good enoughâ
(y/nâs) quiet as she lets it sink in. She doesnât want to speak too soon and lead him to assume sheâd 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 doesnât reach his eyes, and (y/n) canât help but frown before he even says anything.
âI donât think that came out right-âÂ
âNo, it did,â 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 itâs entirety. Surprisingly, Satoru shuts his mouth. âIf taking on partnered assignments is what gets me through the rest of my time here, Iâll do it,â She explains, and she watches as his forced smile begins to crumple with disappointment. âBesides, itâs good for Nanami to get the experience too, yeah?â She muses, but Satoruâs expression doesnât flinch. He doesnât even blink. âI have to fall somewhere in between being a good sorcerer and being a good upperclassman, tooâÂ
âYouâre already doing that,â He points out, almost rudely, but his adamance makes her heart stutter. âYouâre a Special Grade, and you already train and tutor the others, what more could possibly be asked of you?â
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. Itâs quiet, but genuine nonetheless. She couldnât help but find comfort and amusement in his determination.
âSorry,â She murmurs when she realizes her laughter only fueled his irritation. âIâm just amazed that Gojo Satoru is so worried about my reputationâÂ
âIâm not- (y/n), itâs about more than- ugh,â 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, âI just donât want them taking advantage of you, tooâÂ
(y/nâs) 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 canât have her seeing the creeping blush on his face, after all.
âThank you, Satoruâ She tells him, and itâs the first time sheâs 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 itâs almost embarrassing to give her such a noticeable reaction. His eyes are wide and his mouth is snapped shut, worried itâd go completely dry if he left it open.
Gojo Satoru is fairly certain heâs never experienced what falling in love felt like, but heâd 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, heâd 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.
âYouâre⊠welcomeâ He answers slowly, and itâs a bit awkward but (y/n) doesnât point it out. She simply leans back on her arms again and turns her attention back towards the stars.
In a few minutes sheâd strike up conversation again and theyâd 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 theyâd sit there until the sunrise would peek over the horizon, and slowly, but eventually, theyâd 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©âË.ââŸââșââ§
Satoru scoffs when Shoko tells him about a party sheâd 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 wonât 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. Â
Sheâs probably studying, he thinks to himself fondly. It was a friday night, sure, she should be doing something fun with her evening, but heâd much rather have her here than out doing who knows what at some lame party.
âHe was cute too, canât believe she turned him down,âÂ
That little comment had him snapping back into conversation- he mightâve 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. Sheâs not offended that heâd so clearly been ignoring her, not when itâs 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.
âWonder why sheâd do such a thingâ 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 wasnât often that he did so.
âYouâre blaming me for (y/n) not being interested in some random non-sorcerer?â He laughs humorlessly at the notion, and Shoko mirrors it with a laugh of absolute humor.
âSheâs your most favorite Special Grade, isnât she?â She muses, plucking the cigarette from her lips to exhale the smoke in her lungs before she presses him again. âIf it werenât for you, sheâd be out living her life for onceâÂ
âYouâre acting like I keep her from doing anything-âÂ
âIâm not,â Shoko shrugs, her expression turning bored. âI was actually trying to insinuate that sheâd rather hang around here getting in trouble with you than doing, I donât know, normal things. Like parties. And⊠other things that happen at partiesâ 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.
âSheâs probably never even been to a party,â She says, as if talking to herself, but Satoruâs well aware that sheâs just luring him into her trap. Â
Now, heâs not completely sure what that trap is, some sort of admission of guilt he assumes, but for what?Â
âSheâd probably love the scene. Dancing, mingling. Non-sorcerers would love her for sure. She could do her whole âthere is no god, only I control your fateâ thing, theyâd eat that upâÂ
âShe said that one time-âÂ
âYeah, and it was badass,â Shoko cuts him off. âI got chills and I wasnât even there,â She pulls up the sleeve of her jacket then, chuckling when she finds the little hairs on her arms standing up. âSee? ChillsâÂ
Satoru swats her arm out of his face when she shoves it in front of him.
âWhat are you getting at? Are you asking me to take her? I donât want to go to a party with a bunch of strangers whose collective idea of a good time is alcohol poisoning and shitty musicâÂ
âHarsh, Satoru, whoâs got your panties in a bunch?âÂ
He could teleport away right now, before Suguru even completely approaches the two of them, but isnât it all the more damning if he turns and runs? He doesnât make a decision before Suguru has joined them at their usual table in the courtyard. Shokoâs passing him a cigarette without any words exchanged.
âGuessâ She speaks in monotone as she hands him her lighter.
âIâm leavingâ Satoru finally decides, stuffing his hands in his pockets, surely about to stomp away. The other two snicker between one another.
âAwe câmon, donât be like that, Satoruâ Suguru calls, but he doesnât try to chase down his sulking friend.
âWhen ya get to (y/nâs) can you remind her she still has my spare jacket?â 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 heâs knocking on the door he reappears at.
âItâs open!â Is called from inside, but heâs still cautious when he slides it open.
(y/nâs) at her desk, one earbud in her ear and one hanging in front of her. Sheâs surrounded by piles of books and papers, not to mention the highlighter in her hand and the pen tucked above her ear. Sheâd 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.
âWhat a surprise,â She greets him with a warm smile. âTo see you actually using the door, that is,âÂ
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.
âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
âSomething has to be wrong for me to stop by?â He asks, leaning back into the doorway. âCanât I just be a good friend and come say hi?âÂ
She raises a brow at him.
âHiâ 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 heâd like to admit.
âHi,â He replies. (y/n) smiles a little wider. âIs this really your plan for the night?â He asks, wagging his finger in a circular motion at the pile of work she had before her.
âIt was,â She claims. âBut I have this odd feeling⊠like youâre about to drag me offâŠ?â She can barely contain her delight, even as she presses her finger against her pursed lips in mock curiosity.
âTake you away from your studies? Who do you think I am, Special Grade? A bad influence?âÂ
âAnd apparently a mind reader, tooâ She quips.
âWell⊠do you want me to drag you out of here or not?âÂ
Itâs only a dizzy spell from Satoruâs warping later that they find themselves in the middle of a neighborhood, in front of a house she doesnât recognize. Needless to say, it was not a usual spot for them.
âA house party?â (y/n) furrows her brows at him, before glancing down at herself. Sheâd ditched her uniform jacket at least, but she was still in black slacks and her white tee shirt. âYou couldnât have told me to wear something different?âÂ
Satoru frowns, before mirroring her actions. In the same pants and a black tee shirt himself, he takes offense to her insinuation.
âYou donât think I make this look good?â He pouts.
âI think we look like weâre in costumes- what are we doing here, anyways?â She asks.
âShoko told me about it,â He says, before taking a step towards the house. âCâmon letâs go inâÂ
Begrudgingly, she follows him, even though sheâs still completely unsure of the whole thing.
âThis is really what you wanted to do?â She asks, and Satoru doesnât 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; âWhy not?â with that big dumb grin of his that tells her she should keep her guard up tonight.
Itâs 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 everyoneâs 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 doesnât feel any weird stares, her stomach starts to settle, but the voice in the back of her mind still whines that she shouldâve at least changed into a pair of jeans.
Satoruâs 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 doesnât register the melody enough to identify the song, and he doesnât try, either. Heâs 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/nâs) experience, but when his eyes surveyed the place, they squinted with disgust. It was even starting to smell.
âWhat first, hm?â 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. âBody shots? Dancing?âÂ
(y/n) scoffs, but a humored smile curls on her lips as she meets his gaze.
âHow about just a drink?â
âA shot?âÂ
âOne beerâÂ
His grin twitches, before he gives her a nod and takes off into the crowd that had his Infinity flickering on instantaneously. Satoruâs 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. Â
(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 theyâd reached the kitchen. Heâs 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 doesnât completely shatter the bottle with his abundance of cursed energy, but the bottle cap does go flying, and they hear a distant âow!â.
âI couldâve found a bottle openerâ (y/n) tells him, but he knows she was at least a little bit impressed by his finite control over his technique.
âBut ya already got one,â He quips with pride. She stifles her laugh by raising the bottle to her lips, taking a few long drinks. Satoruâs eyebrows almost raise to his hairline, a shocked laugh belting out of him when she finishes.
âI figured youâve never had a drop to drink beforeâ He says when she gives him a confused look.
âI havenâtâ She confirms. Satoru keeps his mouth shut after that.
They spend a few hours at the house party, to both of their surprise. Thereâs 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 Satoruâs face would screw up enough that theyâd leave. Other than a few offers of phone numbers, he couldnât 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 heâd never show up to one of these things alone, but if she asked him? Hell, he might agree without thinking twice.
âHear me out- hear me out!â She doesnât need to tell him twice, but she shouts when she repeats herself just to be sure that Satoru can hear her clearly. âI think we should throw our- our own party, back at- back at homeâÂ
Itâs cute that she calls it home, he thinks. Logically, he knows itâs because sheâs 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. Â
Theyâve taken a break from chatting with strangers, to Satoruâs 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.
âI dunno, Suguru and Shoko arenât really party animals,â He replies, earning a bubbly giggle from her, which he takes to mean she agrees. âI think you might just be enjoying yourself too muchâÂ
âNo such thing,â She argues with a definitive shake of her head. âAnd donât lie, youâre having fun, too!âÂ
Sheâs shouting a bit again, and Satoru laughs. Shoko and Suguru wouldnât believe him later when he tells them about how cute she was when she was tipsy and talkative. Oh well, heâd have to enjoy it for himself first hand. He already couldnât get enough of it, of her eager attention. Heâs so wrapped up in it heâs been leaning closer and closer each time she speaks. Until heâs practically hanging onto the corner of the wall, pressing closer to the side sheâd been leaning against.
âI wouldnât attribute that to this partyâ He scoffs, almost rudely as he glances at the remaining people. Â
Thereâs 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 whatâs 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.
âWhat?â She asks him, still studying his puzzled expression. Itâs 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.
âHow come you never went out ân did this stuff before moving here?âÂ
Her shoulders rise and fall unceremoniously. Â
âI guess cause no one ever dragged me into doing them. Teleporters were in short supply, tooâ She laughs at her own joke, and Satoru cracks a smile, reveling in her amusement.
âWell arenât you in luck, then,â He hums, and he admits his insides are starting to feel doughy when heâs the object her soft gaze is so set on, and itâs probably about time to convince her to head home, but that would mean ruining her fun, and he canât bring himself to do so just yet. âDid you get to have all the synthetically produced fun you wanted?â He teases, and she shrugs again, but this time the motion is gentler, more careful.
âI had a good time with you,â The reply is genuine, making it all the more hard hitting to his heart. Even his Infinity couldnât protect him from that. Her eyes finally tear away from his, only to glance over the dwindling crowd of drunken bodies. âYou sort of scared off all my kiss options thoughâÂ
âKiss options?â 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, sheâd been absolutely serious. âYouâre joking. You wanted to kiss one of these clowns?â He clicks his tongue in displeasure, but her expression doesnât waver.
âItâs a bit late for it now. But I figured it was as good a time as any to get it out of the way,â She says, in that light but serious tone again, and now Satoru feels his heart dropping. âOh well,â She sighs, leaning further into the wall, until her head rested against it. âAnother timeâŠâÂ
âWhat, itâs on your bucket list to kiss some rando?â He teases half-heartedly. Â
Had she been trying to make a move on someone all night? Now Satoruâs 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, heâd 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.
âNo,â She says, laughing under her breath at the idea. âJust wanted to get the first one over withâÂ
Gojoâs eyes widen almost comically, before he leans in and drops his voice to a whisper, as if to spare her any embarrassment.
âAs in first kiss?â He mutters, eyes darting around just to be sure no one else could hear. (y/nâs) laughter bubbles at his dramatic display, and takes no offense to it at all, simply nodding her head.
âYeah, as in first kiss,â She repeats with the same secretive act, before laughing again. âDonât act all surprised nowâÂ
âBaby, Iâm not acting,â The pet name falls off his tongue sarcastically, but he canât deny it feels a bit too natural. âYouâve never kissed anyone?âÂ
âNopeâ She pops her lips and shakes her head.
âAnd of all places you wanted to kiss someone here?â He asks, his lips curling into a grimace as he recalled the candidates from earlier. The pickings werenât exactly ripe.
âIt was just a kiss,â She rolls her eyes at his reaction. âI wasnât looking for a boyfriend, Satoru, I just wanted to know what it was like. Figured it might come up organically in a party settingâÂ
Satoru sticks his tongue out and gags.
âAbsolutely not. Why didnât you just say somethinâ? I wouldâve kissed yaâÂ
âThat doesnât countâ She shakes her head, and he narrows his eyes back at her.
âAnd why not?â He asks, clearly offended. âIâll have you know Iâm a great kisser!âÂ
âOh yeah? Your hand told you so?â (y/n) snickers, and Satoruâs pout noticeably worsens. âI donât want a pity kiss, I want a real kiss. Yâknow, so I can be good at it before it⊠really mattersâÂ
âIt would be a real kiss, dummy, what difference does it make?â Heâs not following her logic, and he canât tell if itâs 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 heâs 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 didnât want to let the moment pass and regret it later.
âIt wonât be weird,â Satoru purses his lips and shakes his head with as much nonchalance as he can muster. Itâs as though heâs reading her mind, and the thought of taking him up on it makes her face feel warm. âBesides, I would be a bad friend letting you have a bad first kiss with some non-sorcerer that doesnât know what heâs doingâÂ
âYouâd feel bad?â 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. âOkay thenâÂ
âOkay?â He repeats.
âYeahâÂ
âYouâll let me?âÂ
Itâs an odd way of phrasing it, sheâll 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, wasnât he? Helping her get the first one out of the way. Heâd much rather he do it himself than let any of the idiots she met tonight get the chance. But thatâs just because they werenât worthy like he was, and that was a fair assessment, wasnât it?Â
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. Sheâll actually let him.
When he doesnât make a move, she tilts her head at him in confusion.
âWell?âÂ
âWell come on,â He beckons her, before taking her by the hand and pulling her away from the wall theyâd been hugging for the better part of an hour. âCanât have it be in some strangerâs house, might as well get a better view than that, yeah?âÂ
He grins at her as he half guides and half drags her outside. Sheâs a little lost on his logic, because it was just a kiss wasnât it? Did the setting really matter? Although once theyâre outside she has to admit the moonâs luminescence did provide a nicer atmosphere. A smile graces her face as she admires the sky, until Satoru stops them.
âHereâs good,â He decides, grinning back at her. âGot a speech planned? Anyone you want to thank?âÂ
âWell, I never thought Iâd make it this far,â She giggles as she goes along with the bit. âI suppose at the end of it all I only have myself to thank, really-âÂ
âAhemâÂ
âOh, and of course Gojo Satoru, for the wonderful opportunity,â She corrects, barely containing her laughter through her made-up speech. Satoru brightens, grinning from ear to ear at her delight. âI think thatâs all I gotâÂ
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 didnât 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.
âIâm not kissinâ you with your eyes open,â 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. âYou need me to count down?â He asks, and heâs only partially joking.
âJust kiss me, âtoru-âÂ
He doesnât 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.
Sheâs 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 sheâd 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 sheâd like to stand there and kiss him for a few minutes moreâŠ
When she pulls away to catch her breath that sheâd been holding in for far too long, Satoruâs hand lingers at the nape of her neck. His fingers twitch, indecisive in what to do next.
Kissing her again wasnât the right move⊠was it?Â
âThank you,â She tells him softly, her blush prominent on her face even in the dark. âShould we get going now?âÂ
He could almost laugh at how quickly she moved on if it didnât sting a little. He hides it behind a smile as he nods his head in agreement, getting ready to warp them back home.
âYou couldâve thanked my hand in your speech tooâ He teases as she wraps her arms round one of his, mentally preparing for the dizzying effect of teleportation.
âShut upâ She giggles back before they disappear from the scene.
â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
Satoruâs never turned down (y/nâs) company. Heâs never wanted her to be away from him, and heâd 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.
âYou should go to bed,â 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 sheâd already done so last night, despite his protests then, too.
Sheâs 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 hadnât even heard him, but Satoruâs not falling for it.
âSeriously, (y/n), you need restâ He sighs, hoping tonight heâd 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.
âWe could put a movie on, good way to pass time,â She suggests, completely ignoring his request. âIâll even let you pickâ She adds, shooting him a warm smile.
âYouâre not gonna sleep, are you?â Satoru frowns when he turns his head to look at her. Her smile remains as she shakes her head.
âNope,â She murmurs sweetly. âSo you might as well pick something to watchâÂ
Sheâd 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 hadnât slept a wink yesterday, and he couldnât put her through 48 straight hours without it.
He knows sheâs 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, sheâd fooled them almost too easily. But Satoru knew better. He knew her better.
âIf I put a movie on will you at least lay down?â
Her eyes narrow at him, before she lowers her ice cream to her lap.
âAre you trying to trick me into falling asleep, Satoru?âÂ
âIâm trying to make sure youâre not going to go delirious because youâre not sleeping a normal human amount-â He tries to argue but she interrupts him.
âYou havenât slept either, hypocrite,â She mutters the last part. âIâm resting enough just sitting around for the night, arenât I?âÂ
âNo-âÂ
âPick the damn movie, SatoruâÂ
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 doesnât have the energy to argue with her- literally, heâs 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 sheâll get tired over time and maybe just pass out. She couldnât keep it up forever, could she?Â
Two more movies later, Satoru worries heâd 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. Heâd tried a few more times to convince her, but all heâd managed was to get her to share a blanket with him.
It hadnât been enough. She settled under the fluffy blanket, right up against his side, and still it wasnât 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 heâs 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 sheâs still awake by speaking.
âSatoru,â Itâs soft, so faint that he holds onto hope that she could still drift off. âIf I do fall asleep, youâll wake me up, wonât you?â
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 sheâll 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.
âYou know Iâm not gonna, Special Grade,â He murmurs back. She grumbles something inaudible, but he assumes it has something to do with the heavier droop of her head. Â
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 sheâs finally asleep against him, it at least held his attention enough to keep him awake. The hammering of his heart in his chest mightâve also kept his adrenaline kicking for long enough that it wouldnât have mattered, though.
The following day, (y/n) gives him a few icy glares, just to remind him that she didnât 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 pairâs bantering as much as they can, unable to stand the levels of chemistry they carried into every room.
âSeriously Satoru, itâs going to make me sick,â Suguru mutters to his friend at one point, while (y/n) and Riko are busy wandering the shore for seashells, or something. âMake a move or donât, but youâre driving the rest of us madâÂ
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.
âYouâre just jealous that she likes me moreâ He says, even though Suguru doesnât care in the slightest, and he even rolls his eyes to drive that point home.
âWell sheâs not gonna like you forever if you keep up this dumb game,â He argues. âWhat kind of friends kiss and then donât do anything about it?â
âI told you that in confidenceâ Satoru whines.
âYou told me in the middle of the night right after it happened,â Suguru reminds him in a plain tone of voice. âSeriously, we all know she has feelings for you, so stop being a cowardâÂ
âNot a coward,â Satoru mumbles, kicking at the sand. âWeâre just⊠sorta in the middle of something here?â He tries to blame it on the assignment, but Suguru gives him a blank look.
âWeâre at the beach,â He mutters. âSheâs been staying up with you, too, so do it then, after the rest of us have gone to sleepâ He points a finger at him for the last part, making sure it was crystal clear.
âI donât know. Maybeâ 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. Heâd known how he felt about her for quite some time now, before heâd 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 heâd never felt love before, and he had no clue how to go about professing it.
Heâs 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. Theyâre both seated on a towel to keep their clothes clear of sand, but with their feet digging into the soft grains it didnât matter, the towel became a mess anyways.
âI donât want you to stay up too late again,â He tells her, although it feels useless. âItâs just not good for you,â 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. âAnd itâs not worth itâ
She gives him a bittersweet smile, her head tilting just slightly as she regards his worry.
âIt is worth it,â She replies quietly. âI donât want you to be alone out here,â She tells him, watching the way his expression falters and softens. âItâs just not good for youâ She mimics him with a laugh for good measure, and he barely cracks a smile, but his worry is still evident.
âWell, when this assignment is over, can you promise to sleep for three days straight to make up for it?â He asks, and she thinks it over for a moment before nodding her head in agreement.
âI suppose,â She answers. âAs long as you do, too,â She adds quickly, âFair is fairâÂ
Satoru rolls his eyes, but his smile is a little more genuine this time.
âAlright then, 72 hours of sleep it is,â He gives in. âBut Iâm holding you to that promiseâÂ
âI donât break promises,â 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, sheâs speaking up again. âI know you donât think you need anyone looking out for you, Satoru,âÂ
He looks at her right away, tired eyes widening at the sudden seriousness in her tone. Sheâs still watching the tide, completely captured by it, but he can tell sheâs holding in more.
âBut I⊠I worry about you,â She admits, dropping her head to stare at her lap. âI donât want you to take on more than you can handle, I⊠I donât want them to take advantage of you anymore,âÂ
She swallows the lump in her throat before finally working up the courage to look over at him.
âI know that youâre the strongest, and itâs gonna happen but⊠but I canât help this feeling like⊠Iâm here too, you know? I can take things on too, assignments, or⊠this,â She gives him a weak smile, hoping he understands that her sentiment comes from a good place. âI care about you, you know?â She finishes in a whisper.
Satoruâs 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 sheâs looking at him now, he doesnât think heâs ever seen someone so beautiful.
He couldnât 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 heâs 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 sheâs kissing him back with all the fervor that she wished she had the first time.
Itâs another pleasant surprise when she reaches out and finds her fingertips bumping into his cheekbones, before her entire hands up his warm face and sheâs pulling him closer to her, kissing him again- and then again some more.
Satoruâs balance is thrown off from the way he leans against her, but itâs nothing that canât 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 theyâre 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 doesnât let go of her when they finally pull apart, and she doesnât 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.
âWhat was that for?â She murmurs, the pad of her thumb rubbing over the delicate curve of his cheekbone with nothing but fondness in her touch. Â
He chuckles, warm breath fanning over her lips. Â
Wasnât it obvious?
âBecause,âÂ
His voice is a mere murmur, and for a moment she thinks that might be his entire answer. She wouldnât put it past him, but thereâs a look in his eyes that resembles longing, and she knows there must be more.
âI love you tooâ
â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
[ summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes // i'm your national anthem ]
â©âË.ââŸââșââ§
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