Why Is The Minecraft Ending Poem Makeing Me Cry This Is Unbelievable
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More Posts from Gojocp
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"

Big day for annoying people (Suguru stans)

this was amazing wtf
national anthem - gojo satoru

â©âË.ââŸââșââ§ 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
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.