#i didn't know how to convey this in art

[cephalopistol]

kamen rider 555 for the playstation 2

[van20sac20quy]

[solaceofthestarz]

ai art isn't better than real art, because art isn't about being good

[slumbergoblin]

Hi Mei :)

[radio-4-is-static]

25コ目の染色体 | RADWIMPS

忘れてた泣き方 でも 今ここにある何か 目を閉じても零れそうな気がして

I will die for you, and I will live for you I will die for you, there is nothing more that I could really say to you

[icewindandboringhorror]

this is not the exact one I watched but I saw one of these "dish scape" things at someone's house who actually has TV (like they pay for dish/cable instead of just watching stuff online) and I think they're meant to be relaxing atmospheric stuff that you mostly ignore, but I sat there for 35 minutes watching absolutely engrossed.. further proof that I genuinely think my brain is incapable of experiencing boredom lol..

[callmeizukunotdeku]

Bruce comes back from the dead and wants to make things better. Bruce comes back from the dead and Tim was the one who brought him back, so it's obviously Tim who'll know best how to help him reconnect with everyone.

It's Tim who should give him advice on how to bond with Dick. Dick has always been his idol, after all. Tim would know best how to bring him back, and he does. He gives good advice and the two of them begin to get closer.

So Bruce asks about Jason, too. Asks about how to bring his son back into the fold and Tim wished for a brief and brutal moment that it weren't so obvious who the favorite was.

Tim told Bruce to give Jason his space, to loosen his rules, and make it clear that no matter what the Red Hood did, no matter what the Batman believed in, Jason was always welcome. Bruce would always want him.

It worked. Bruce wasn't surprised. Tim was a special sort of bitter.

Bruce asked again for Damian and Tim had to push down his anger. "That boy tried to kill me," Tim wanted to say. "I hate him and I want you to hate him too so that I can remember a time when we had something in common," Tim didn't say, but he got close.

He instead told Bruce how Damian liked art and animals and loved hearing stories of the wonders of Batman.

He told Bruce just how much Damian loved being Robin. Told Bruce to tell Damian what a good Robin he was.

God bless or maybe damn him, but he did and it worked and Tim wanted to start screaming and clawing at something because that would have never worked if Tim tried it and it wouldn't have stopped Damian from cutting his line--something Bruce did not and would never know about.

Bruce asked about Babs. How should he make sure she knew that she was a part of the family? That they loved her and not just for the work she did?

He asked about Steph. How should he make sure she knew that she was more important than his rules and that, if something else should go wrong, she didn't need to run away?

He asked about Duke. He never got the chance to get to know him before leaving--not as well as he wanted to, at least. How should he let him know that he was just as much a son as everyone else? That, whether or not his parents woke up, he'd always be welcome?

He asked about Cass. How should he show her that he loves her even though he has nothing to teach her? How can he convey how much he cares about her, his first daughter?

Bruce gets brought back from time and he makes things better. He brings his family back together by following Tim's advice.

And Tim?

Tim brings his dad back from the dead and Bruce changes, becomes a better father.

Bruce changes, but not everything can.

That, Tim thinks, is why Bruce never calls Tim his son.

[longtallglasses]

don't leave this in the tags...

#it's a shitty realization#it makes me think of the relational concept of bids#which is basically attempts to create a moment of connection between two people#for example something as simple as 'look there's a squirrel outside!'#if the person takes up the bid then they'll come over and look and you have a moment of connection together#but it's not uncommon for people to reject the bid (even without meaning anything bad) - 'i'm busy right now' etc#sometimes just straight up ignoring and not answering at all#and when they studied this relationships where the partner(s) ignored bids more often were more likely to break up#(or something close to that don't quote me on the details)#as autistics our bids often get ignored or not fully met (not matching the level of importance we give something)#due to various reasons such as ppl being annoyed with us; not understanding us; not caring about the same things; etc#sharing about a special interest is especially ripe for this bc we care so so much about it and most people care very little or just#a normal amount#they also may be interests that aren't as socially acceptable#so we can get brushed off or not really engaged with about this thing we LOVE and base our lives around#and that feeling of subtle rejection from those bids really adds up over time#autism#actuallyautistic#mf musings#military ment#squirrel ment

via @mindflamer

I think special interests are great but also no one talks about how isolating they can be sometimes. like it’s so hard for me to comprehend sometimes that most people aren’t interested in this one specific thing that literally shapes my life… they fundamentally cannot understand how or why it means so much to me and moreover they don’t care. like why am I crying over the fact that one person isn’t as into 18th century military history as I am. this is so humiliating

[nanamiskentos]

CREAM SODA — gojo satoru minors dni

prologue. → you've always known that gojo satoru is a real piece of work. arrogant, haughty. definitely has a praise kink for when people always call him 'the strongest.' but you're not even friends anymore, so this isn't any of your business...right?

what you didn't know is just how nasty he is, caging you in front of a mirror to lick away blood that he spilled from the veins of another man, one who dared to touch you.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. secondary love interest in the form of a random oc, jjk lore being mildly twisted, history around the world, in-jujutsu universe (not an au), gojo going feral and batshit bonkers, rough séx, créampíe, INSANE glass-shattering jealousy, hate séx but only a bit, brééding, oràl (f. receiving). enemies to lovers, former friends, PLOT AND WORLD BUILDING BTW this isn't pẃp, éxhibitionísm, mirror séx, overstímulàtion, bratty reader but with a reason to be a hater, working together on a mission, mentions of alcohol and the crime underworld, DEFINITELY a bit dark because reader goes through emotional whiplash, descriptions of a fight and heavy injury, biting because i always somehow write gojo as a vampire type of freak?? the PRIME example of the miscommunication tropes and a case where neither person is in the right...nuance is your friend here, fake bodyguard!gojo, reader wears a dress + makeup for a formal event, angst, hurt, lashing out, some comfort and fluff

excerpt: part of you knows that you just aren't seeing those pearly gates of heaven.

you know there's going to be a bouncer at the doors, with your face printed on a photo titled: dni! fraud! liar! the world's most incompetent jujutsu sorcerer! would bounce into a criminal's bed at first chance!

word count. 22k!!!!!!! AURKAY!! song inspiration. cream soda — exo, is there someone else — the weeknd

a/n. spent way too long trying to learn ps for the header 😭 wrote this only because of the new grey suit gojo art <3 there's a secondary love interest in this for the ✨ plot ✨ but he's just a character i made up for this story. i would have used one of the other jjk men but it would made it into an au that i didn't feel like expanding on 😭

mp3.. feel that tinglin', that silky smooth cream, each swirl deepens the flavor, babe. baby, go dumb dumb!

"f-fuck, if i had known it felt like this, would've stuck my fingers in h-her a long time ago," gojo unfurls his fingers that only just separated from your fluttering pussy, and you can only watch.

equally mesmerised as his slender fingers are coated in strands of your slick, clinging to the curves of his short nails and coating them in a mirror sheen.

"have some c-class, gojo! you've lost your fuckin' mind -"

smack!

the dewy pads of his fingers have come down in a harsh arc, slapping right at your throbbing clit, and the jolt sends such an incredible crack of lightning down your spine that you're bucking your hips back up into his hand, back for more.

"some class? hah, 'm not able to do that now, baby," and you can feel gojo shudder under your touch, as you paw at the linen of his black dress shirt, raking your nails over his pectorals, "not when it f-feels like your pussy is about to, fuck, vacuum my fingers off."

"i swear to god, gojo. never say that corny shit a-again."

but it's hard to convey any sense of righteous fury like this. not when he's back to pushing the tapered ends of his long fingers in and out of your tight heat. each brush from the pads of his fingertips leaves you squealing, tugging at the snowy strands on the back of his head.

but gojo's teeth are sharp as they sink into the damp skin of your neck with an almost reverent press, easily snapping through the delicate flesh.

and you're squealing, shocked at how fucking bold gojo satoru has become, whining at how a sharp hiss pulses through you, and you can feel the warmth of blood beginning to bloom and pool over your collarbone.

"shit, 'm sorry, baby. so sorry. but i'm gonna need to see you l-like this," and suddenly gojo snaps away the pussydrunk babble falling from his candied mouth, and he's pressing a searing kiss to your jaw, and the air becomes hazy with the scent of an insanely expensive cologne, cedar and something...sweet, like cardamom.

still, there's hardly time to dissect that.

not when his thick arm is around your waist, handling you until you're smack bang between his legs, right between dark slacks. and gojo has shifted, so your back is flat against the hard planes of his chest, and your knuckles can only grip at the vanity sink. so your eyes can only see your naked torso twisting in the mirror.

"keep your eyes h-here, sweets. on us."

wait. you need to pause this tape, and do a little rewind.

how did you end up here, getting finger-fucked in a luxury five star suite? by the one man on earth that you swore that you could never stand?

(earlier that day)

the chandeliers had been shimmering overhead like stars, each fine crystal caught the golden light and scattered it across the grand lobby, and it was making your eyes flare and twitch.

this entire hotel felt frozen in time, some opulent relic of the roaring twenties, translated straight into tokyo's beating heart.

it was all so...pristine, and gaudy. and even the air carried that faint scent of hefty chanel no.5 and furniture polish.

but hey, this cheque wasn't coming out of your pocket, so who were you to complain?

that's how you rationalised it to yourself, right after a smartly-dressed waiter had floated past with a tray of shimmering champagne, one that you had easily helped yourself to.

ah, fuck it.

let the bill rack up on yaga's card. the least he could do after volunteering you to the higher ups for this mission.

a thick folder rested in your lap, clipped papers inside threatening to spill over from the sheer volume of information, that made your head spin.

of course, it was all courtesy of the jujutsu administration's obsession with drowning sorcerers in needless bureaucracy. and so you leafed through it idly, your thumb skimming over the crisp edges.

names, places, dates, all laid out in haphazard detail.

what a mess, it was a lot, but not enough to fill in the gaps that gnawed at you. the higher ups never gave you everything, fuck, they hated making it easy. still, your eyes caught onto key phrases.

urgent recall of cursed object. yes, that's why you were here. and not enjoying your saturday afternoon at home.

declaration of most expenses covered, in the instances of losing a limb. fair enough, insurance was honestly hell these days.

gain access to the auction being held by the voiceless. find their leader, naoki sato.

you knew of the voiceless, most higher grade jujutsu sorcerers did. a crime syndicate so shrouded in mystery. operating overseas for decades without so much as a cloudy whisper to the general public.

you made an unimpressed face as you kept reading, crinkling sheets under your fingers. smuggling, extortion, and a great deal of unexplained murders that would leave the cast of criminal minds scratching their heads.

how tasteless. still, you weren't the law, each to their own.

however, something made this case different. it made it your apparent problem.

for the voiceless were not your usual ragtag team of ruffian criminals, intent on scamming the vulnerable and sad.

their ranks comprised of wayward jujutsu sorcerers, with a hearty appetite for special artefacts, including cursed objects.

and now here they were, back on tokyo's soil, their hands covered with more than just the regular mundane crimes that could land a man behind bars for life.

you shifted in the plush, sinking seat. flipped to a page that had been practically painted in the most unforgiving shade of neon yellow highlighter.

ah, so this was the cursed object. raijin's amulet.

there was a grainy, slightly off-centre photograph clipped to the top of the document. the image was not much to look out, all washed colours and shadows that clearly didn't speak highly of the skills of whoever was behind the camera.

a circular pendant, a darkened forged creation of bronze and jade, covered in the soot of the ages gone by. spiralled with intricate carvings that reminded you of swirling storm clouds on a summer's evening.

and at it's centre sat a jagged shard of some precious golden stone, rough-hewn at the edges.

you were certain that this was the cause behind the distorted photography, for a modern camera was simply just not meant to capture such high levels of cursed energy.

there was even a faint shape of a dragon coiled around the pendant's edges, with its claws gripping the frame as if guarding it...or imprisoning it.

you weren't sure which. you're not sure you wanted to know which.

the accompanying notes were sparse, filled with frustrated gaps that left you squinting.

believed to be an ancient relic of the heian era. captured from the treasure hoard of the early medieval sorcerer, ryōmen sukuna, after his death.

huh, you hadn't heard that name since your school-days, back when you had poured over fraying history tomes, trying to pen the perfect essay to beat out suguru's flawless grades.

said to be imbued with the power of the lightning deity, raijin. capable of summoning and manipulating thunder, and disrupting various veils and curtains. last known location: the british museum, 1982. current location: unconfirmed.

clearly not an artefact meant to sit behind public museum glass.

dangerous in the wrong hands, and priceless in the hands of all. this must have been at least leagues above your current pay grade.

your thumb hovered over the corner of the page, bruising the white paper underneath as you scanned over the rest of the text, hoping and looking for a section that would be titled: and here's how to track raijin's amulet down and find it, with no bloodshed, and just in time for dinner!

no such luck.

"figures," you muttered under your breath, shoving the folder shut with a disgusted sigh.

this entire mission reeked of playing politics. for years, the voiceless had operated under the radar of other nations, disguising the tell-tale jujutsu as unexplained natural disasters and accidents.

there had been no intervention. they had been untouchable because no-one had the foreign jurisdiction, nor the guts to intervene.

but now, with the voiceless back on home soil, it seemed the higher ups wanted to make a statement. something like 'hey, we're actually useful at our jobs of protecting the jujutsu world!' and who better to clean up their mess than you and...

gojo satoru.

speak of the devil. you glanced up towards the grand entrance of the hotel lobby, as an unfortunate doorman stood by revolving, glass doors.

your...partner strode in, with dark sunglasses perched on his nose, and you scrunched your nose, taking in his appearance.

despite gojo's striking features that could render anyone speechless, he always looked like an odd bird of prey to you.

hawkish with creepy eyes, like a big snowy owl that had been hit by a curse, transforming him and forcing him to assimilate into the world of humans.

"i wasn't sure if you would come," you called, hoping that you masked the bitterness well that he had arrived, and significantly decreased the quality of your day.

"you wouldn't say that in bed," was gojo's snarky, automated reply, before he gave you a mildly embarrassed look, as if his immature mouth moved faster than his common sense did.

"still, sorry to keep you waiting," and gojo was crushing the heel of his boot into the cream marble of the floor, tapping it, all ridiculously long legs in the same uniform dress pants that you also donned, "traffic was hell."

"you don't even have a license," you grouched with a glare that you hoped was sharp enough to cleave time and space, but you stood up all the same, "and i wasn't waiting, i was working."

click! click!

gojo snapped his fingers, reaching for the folder stacked in your arms, "yes, of course you were, sweets," and he clicked his tongue, "now, why don't you hand that to me, and go check us in? i can look over what i need to do, let's get this done before night falls."

the audacity. the absolute nerve. how so typically gojo. swooping in at the last minute for kill shot, as usual, while others poured through all the paperwork, and did all the mental heavy lifting.

"you mean what we need to do, gojo," you snapped, your scowl deepening, "you're the late one. you go check us in."

gojo arched a pale brow, and the corner of his mouth twitched as though he wished he could just unwalk through those doors now, caught between amusement and exasperation. "you used to be so nice. what happened?"

"tsk! i think you happened, gojo. didn't ask to be stuck here with you."

"ah, so you do think about me, at least. but now you're jus' so difficult all the time."

"fuck off, i'm not difficult!" you shot back, before shrinking at the foul look that an elderly couple had directed your way, muttering something about how youth just didn't know how to act indoors, "i'm just saying it's not fair -"

"fine, whatever. don't care, sweets," gojo interrupted, already rolling big, blue eyes and turning away, "i'll go do it. you just stay nice and comfortable here."

and just like that, after comfortably raising your blood pressure (and heart rate), gojo satoru strode off towards the vast front desk, hands shoved lazily into his pockets, as though the two of you weren't on the clock to hunt down and find a dangerous criminal, his syndicate and a cursed object.

you trailed behind him, resisting the violent urge to grab his stupid sunglasses and fling them across the lobby. or stomp on them.

or just sit on them.

meanwhile, your eyes landed on the last and final page of the file, where a bright pink sticky note stood out sharply against the dull black and white of the case file.

final task: retrieve artefact. execute naoki sato on site. alternatively, bring in for execution.

the words were scrawled in thick, impatient strokes of a black marker. the kind that spoke more of efficiency, than humanity.

typical. there was just nothing that higher ups of the jujutsu world loved more than lopping the head off anyone that they deemed inconvenient. quick, clean and final.

still, this decision wasn't your business, not really.

you looked up to see gojo casually leaning against the counter, and his entire demeanour radiated smooth confidence as he spoke to the receptionist.

the sweet-looking woman had fumbled her worlds almost immediately, and she had dropped her pen twice. and he had caught it with an easy smile and wink that would have made you roll your eyes clean out of your skull.

you wanted to gag.

in less than a minute, gojo had the black keycard in his hand, spinning it between his fingers like some trophy as he sauntered towards the elevators.

you sighed as he stopped in front of you, extending the card with a flourish, like a knight presenting a courtier with a wreath of fresh-cut flowers.

"we're here for a mission, gojo. not to get it wet."

the tips of his ears flushed a bright, vibrant red. but his grin didn't falter as he huffed, and snatched the keycard back. leaving your arm floundering in the air before you dropped it.

"how crude. that's not even what i asked her. but still, you're welcome, sweets," he had said, stepping into the elevator and holding the door open for you with an exaggerated stretch of his arm.

"i didn't say thank you."

gojo smiled, tilting his head in that distracting, no. what? in that irritating manner of his, "no need. i could feel the gratitude radiating off you," and he's crossing his arms against his broad chest in a way that made the tailored uniform seem unfairly snug, "warms my heart."

"what if you don't have a heart?

for a fleeting moment, something unreadable flashed in gojo's eyes, irritation easily — but something unrecognisable, but he must have smoothed it away with practised ease. for that same cocky grin returned like clockwork, infuriatingly charming and just as insincere.

"what if it only beats for you?" he shot back, wiggling his fingers dramatically, and the motion was so over-the-top that it leaned closer to sleazy than heartstopping.

"now i'm worried, you need to get shoko to check that out. sounds like a serious health issue."

"your tender concern for my well-being is what keeps my blood pumping," and you know that gojo has little regard for the personal space for others, the way that the distance between you is closing once more, in a way that makes your own pulse flicker.

"please," and you take a deliberate step back to reclaim your own space, "if i wanted you gone, i wouldn't waste my time hoping for a heart attack. i'd do it myself."

gojo shrugs, tilting his head like you had just told him a sweet joke, "you're cute when you're homicidal, y'know that?"

"and you're insufferable all the time. we all have our talents."

gojo's barked out a laugh, and the sound is annoyingly genuine. it has you grinding your teeth together, making your jaw tight.

"hey, gojo," you swivel back to the towering bean-pole behind you, leaning against a steel bar.

"mhm, what?"

"i'll give you a hundred thousand yen if you keep your mouth shut during the entire elevator ride," you mutter, staring at the ground floor map, and up to where your suite was meant to be, hands fiddling over the buttons.

"deal."

you glance back, "that easy? clan money running low, gojo?"

gojo sighs, shaking his (ridiculous) snow-cone hair, "you have no idea. spent it all on a sweet talkin' girl who kicked me to the curb. even took the dog with her. who takes the fucking dog?"

despite yourself and your iron-clad resolution to not validate gojo satoru in anything, you snort, the first genuine laugh he's pulled out of you.

you choose not to notice how his eyes suddenly seem a shade brighter, as you snicker, "you're so ridiculous."

he doesn't reply as you press an index finger into the cool metal of the elevator button, and you turn around to see him sadly miming out his broke plight, with a sack of imaginary things over his shoulder, jingling the few coins he has.

tsk. you bite your lip to stop the corners of your lips lifting up to match gojo's own, wrinkling your nose in faux distaste as you spin back around, with gritted teeth. away from the mild bane of your existence.

true to his word, and shockingly so, gojo stayed silent through the elevator ride. mostly.

you caught his restless sighs, the shuffle of his ridiculously polished boots, and the occasional sharp intake of breath like he was simply dying to say something, but kept biting it back.

good. for once, it was nice to make gojo satoru stew.

the elevator dinged, and you had already stepped out, planning to ditch him in the suite, but clearly, gojo had other ideas.

"alright, sweets," he said, hand extended, "i won the bet. hundred thousand yen, i can take a cheque too."

you stopped short, glaring at his outstretched (sculpted) hand.

"right now? just as we're gonna plan how to catch a criminal? can't we do a pay later type of thing?"

gojo's responding grin was wolfish, and his voice dropped enough to make you bristle, "sure. pay later, with a kiss."

your groan must have echoed down the hall, and without thinking, you shoved past him. your shoulder colliding with his chest in a way that was deeply satisfying.

"my kisses," you snapped, refusing to look back at him, "are worth way more than a hundred thousand yen."

gojo didn't reply immediately, no. and for a second, you thought had finally managed to shut him up enough for a moment's peace to gather the thoughts that the white-haired man always managed to unravel.

but when you dared to glance back over your shoulder, his sharp gaze was fixed on you, and his lips were pressed together oddly — the faintest dusting of cherry pink peeking out underneath his sunglasses, and falling over his cheeks.

nary a peep from gojo then, save for him rushing past you to slot the keycard into the door. but holy fuck, the sheer luxury of this suite almost made you forget that gojo satoru even existed.

sleek dark woods, glowing orange accents, and a massive window that offered a panoramic view of tokyo's skyline. and then, there was the bed.

ridiculous in its decadence. a king-sized masterpiece, draped in plush linens that looked softer than the clouds dotting the afternoon sky. framed by polished ebony bedposts that gleamed in the warm light of the suite. the mattress was practically calling out to you, to sink your back into it.

wait, where was the other bed?

"nope! absolutely not," you blurted, spinning on your heel to face gojo who had sauntered in after you, pausing mid-step and clearly, equally caught off-guard with a stunned expression on his face — before morphing into something maddeningly smug.

"what?" gojo said, leaning casually against the doorframe, "it's a bed. you've seen one before, right?"

you tried to speak in a way that wouldn't quite make it show that you felt like your tongue was lead, jabbing a finger at the bed as though it had personally offended you, "there's only one!"

gojo's lips quirked upwards, his blue eyes gleaming with that irritating mix of amusement and mischief, most likely derived from your displeasure, "now look at that, we can count to ten. baby steps."

"don't start with me," you snapped, "i'm not crashing out there. i'd rather sleep in the hallway."

gojo tilted his head, the white tufts of his hair falling around his face, as though he were considering the suggestion seriously, "not sure the hotel staff would appreciate you loitering in their five-star corridors. won't stop you though, sweets."

"you can sleep on the couch," you try to offer helpfully, relishing in how it's his turn to scowl at you.

gojo's glancing towards the sleek leather sofa in the corner, most likely worth more than your monthly rent, "tempting," he drawls, "but i don't think that thing was designed for someone with legs this long," and he's slapping his hands on his thighs, and you do your very best to not track your stare down.

"then curl up like the overgrown house cat you are -"

"fuck you mean by that?"

"or sleep on the floor!"

"i'm liking these options less and less."

but then gojo straightens, and you're starting to see a small tick reach to the corner of his bright eyes, the faintest hint of irritation seeping through his drawl, "you know, for someone so desperate to avoid me, you spend a lot of time wondering where i'm gonna sleep."

you hate the traitorous flush heating up your face, "i'm thinking about it because you're my problem."

"well i hope i'm at least your favourite problem," gojo murmurs, brushing past you to toss his dark bag onto the bed.

"so, what's it gonna be?" gojo's voice was a lazy purr, patting the mattress beside him with a grin that could have launched a thousand arguments, "join me, or keep fighting a losing battle? because -" he faked a yawn, "i think i'm starting to get a bit sleepy."

"sleepy? you're a grown man, and it's barely three in the afternoon."

gojo arches a pale brow, and you have to force yourself to stop staring at the pink curve of his lips, "and? scared you won't be able to resist me in the middle of the night?"

"you should be scared you'll wake up with a pillow smothering your face."

gojo sighs, melodramatic and loud, rolling over onto his back, "i'd rather be smothered by -"

"gojo!"

his laugh is low and rich, and it vibrates in the air in a way that make your teeth itch, and your eyes roll, desparate to change the subject and actually get back on track.

you shove the hefty file in his direction, letting him flounder to grab a hold of it, "last page. naoki sato."

gojo's entire demeanor shifts, and falls under the mention of the name, eyes a touch darker, and suddenly serious in a way that almost makes you regret being on the clock. but he's pushed himself up from the bed, his legs dangling off the edge.

"what about him?"

you frowned, still turning over the situation in your mind, "well, he's supposedly working out of this district right, i mean, even this hotel? but why? i always thought crime bosses had creepy lairs in dark alleyways or something. and not," you gesture to the five-star architecture around you, "this."

gojo's broad shoulders shrug in that lazy way of his, like everything was beneath him, but there was something else flickering behind his perched sunglasses, "i've never even met him. just heard of him," but gojo seems to be chewing each word, as if choosing them carefully, "but what i've heard? not your typical criminal? he flies high, lives the wild life out in the open, rich and shameless."

you privately held back any biting comment that came to you as easy as breathing, about gojo also being the epitome of rich...and shameless. time and place, yeah?

gojo, thank the lucky stars, had not noticed you fighting demons to keep a straight face, "but then every so often sato vanishes off the radar, and then, bam!" your partner splayed his fingers, "he strikes again. always showing in a different place. the united states, france, england, egypt..."

you raise an eyebrow, tapping at your phone, "egypt?"

"egyptian artefacts are ridiculously powerful, sweets. i mean, on a whole other level. they aren't linked with y'know...jujutsu," he gestures vaguely between the two of you, "but whatever they've got is ancient and ridiculously potent. last the higher ups heard, naoki sato managed to get his hands on an old obelisk."

you shake your head at the prospect, humouring gojo, "whatever for?"

"whatever twisted things he does in his free time, fuck if i know. but of course, he couldn't control it. instead, it summoned the spirit of a massive serpent, killed a bunch of innocent civilians."

you have the faintest collection of the mythos surrounding an ancient serpent, and the thought makes you shudder, "wouldn't the local authorities have arrested him for that?"

gojo pushes his sunglasses up his head, so you're now looking back at unblinking blue eyes ringed by white lashes, "how do you arrest a guy who's practically a ghost? they couldn't even find him after all that shit. besides, his technique is something else. enhance. practically has control over every cell in your body."

you nod slowly, hoping that you're piercing it all together correctly, "so this auction is because he's got more of these artefacts? like raijin's amulet?"

gojo nods sharply, and you're struck by the intensity of big blue eyes with whorls of storm clouds lingering between his gaze, "i guess even villainous criminals want to make profit. but we can get a front row seat to whatever he's planning next."

"and stop him before that."

"right. that's what i said."

your frown deepens, "how the fuck does an entire auction stay hidden from the public?"

after all, you had scoured the floorplan of this hotel from base to rooftop, and not a single room or corner would accomodate naoki sato, and the voiceless that follow him.

gojo shrugs with infuriating nonchalance, his fingers tapping idly against the edge of the bed, "there's jujutsu that can create entire illusions. beneath this very hotel lies an entrance to a hidden ballroom, but it's been in and out of use for decades. we jus' need to slip in, find sato, and maybe shake him a few times until he spills the amulet's location."

you cross your arms, and the unfortunate truth lingers on your tongue, "if it were that easy, the higher ups wouldn't have sent you with me as backup."

"was that a compliment for me? careful, you might actually start liking me now."

and at your affronted expression, laugher is spilling out gojo satoru, sharp and cocky and awfully infectious.

you hated the sound, not because it wasn't nice, but because it was. too rich, too easy. the kind of laugh, from the strongest sorcerer to walk the earth, that made you wonder if ever took a damn thing seriously. with the unfortunate side effect of questioning why it was so annoyingly attractive at the same time.

nobody should get to look that good while being such an unbearable ass. it was unfortunate, you thought grimly, how much you liked seeing him laugh though.

"i don't think i'd ever like you at all, gojo."

but alas, the world has a cruel way of making you wish that the earth swallowed you whole. and your heart and mind certainly aren't on speaking terms with each other to coordinate properly. for the barb flies out of your mouth like an uncontrolled reflex, a rogue arrow hitting its mark.

and you're left grimacing as gojo's smile stills. not vanishing completely, but frozen while something cooler and sharper slips into his gaze. the awkward silence that follows is loud enough to make you wince and pray that a lightning bolt strikes you down right now.

gojo gives a quiet cough, and you're wondering just how much of his nonchalant facade he has left intact. fuck, you were a bit of an ass yourself.

"ah, gojo. i didn't mean -" you started, stumbling over the words, desperate to backpedal, if only for the sake of the mission. right?

"don't strain yourself pretending," gojo cuts you off, and you're mildly stung by the smooth edge of venom coating his voice, despite his relaxed smile, "let's just get this job done, yeah? it's just us two here because no-one else could put up with you. i was the only one left who actually wanted to try."

well. ouch, that was a low blow. motherfucker.

your jaw tighten, and for a moment, all you can do is stare into vibrant blue eyes. surely, that wasn't true...right? and how awful that the sharp look in his eyes softened into a smug satisfaction as he registered how his own barb had found his mark.

now, gojo satoru is leaning back with an air of victory, crossing his arms as if to bask in it. talk about drawing more blood from a wound than necessary.

"you're awful, gojo," you bit out, praying that whatever tremor lives in your throat is not enough to appear in your voice.

"yes, i know. you say that all the time."

it was almost tragic, you thought bitterly, how in those fleeting few minutes, you had found gojo satoru bearable. likeable even. insightful, in his own smug way.

but now, the two of you were back to square one, staring each other down with walls firmly back in place.

sure, your quip had been mildly unnecessary, but it wasn't like he hadn't heard your blithe and bland comments by now?

but still, gojo's words gnawed at you. the idea that no one else wanted to put up with you, except him, of all people, burrowed deeper than it had any right to.

maybe it was petty, but you weren't about to let gojo satoru have the last word.

"remember that the higher ups want naoki sato executed," you said, breaking the terse silence.

gojo didn't even glance up from the file he'd been pretending to skim, his long fingers casually flipping a page. and that nonchalance made your stomach churn with irritation.

when he finally looked up, his expression was a mix of curiosity, and disdain, as if you had become a particularly stubborn puzzle that he'd decided was not worth solving, "yes, i know that too. so what?"

"you and i both know you've had trouble executing criminals in the past."

a calculated jab, sharper than they needed to be. and you saw the impact hit almost immediately. gojo's jaw tightened, and the glint in his frosty blue eyes disappeared, replaced by something darker, furious even.

suguru geto was still well and alive, often appearing on television as a friendly priest who would cure one of all their ails such as lower back pain or bad headaches, for the low price of joining the ranks of his organisation (read: cult). but he still remained a sore point for...everyone. you, included.

gojo, especially.

and now the air between you shifted, chilling like a winter draft had snuck into the room. your eyes fell on gojo's knuckles as they tightened around the file, his expression stony.

you shouldn't have felt proud of yourself for getting under his skin, for pulling a genuine reaction from him. but you did. you'd found a crack in his flawless armour, without needing to bypass infinity.

and it was satisfying.

"f-fuck you," gojo said finally, the razor edge in his voice was matched only by the glare he pinned on you.

you crossed your arms, doing your best to feign indifference despite the adrenaline surging through you. ignoring how you felt an awful pit in your stomach sprout, rendering you rather nauseous, and quoting his previous words, "don't strain yourself pretending it's not true."

gojo satoru's glower could have melted steel, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd gone too far. but he stood, slowly, his movements deliberate as he slammed the file shut with a resounding snap.

you watched as he snatched up his smaller bag, and swung the door open with enough force that you were surprised that it didn't fall off its hinges, "just be ready by the time i get back. 'm gonna take a walk."

and you were left, alone, in a room that suddenly felt so much more suffocating.

you weren't sure how long it had been since gojo had stormed out, leaving the room icy in his absence. you hadn't moved from your spot by the door, though you told yourself that you were entirely fine.

arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin, defiant line. but even as you stared at the dark panels of the door, the lie began to unravel.

you told yourself that you just didn't care for gojo satoru. that you didn't like how he was too loud, too reckless, too overwhelming, a force that just didn't fit into the neat confines of your world.

the heat rising to your cheeks must have betrayed you, as did the tight knot in your chest. it had been...not your wisest choice to lash out at him, or to even bring up his name. suguru geto, a wound that would never close for anyone.

but more than that, you hated the memory of his expression just before he left. hurt, and anger. and something far more raw.

he would come back, you knew that much. gojo was much too dutiful to leave a mission and abandon a chance to do some good in this world. it should have been a comfort, but it did little to ease you. instead, that certainty only twisted the guilt tighter in between your ribcage.

finally, you yanked the door open, fuelled by an impulse you didn't care to name. you wanted to catch him outside, mid-pace and brooding. just so you could say...something. anything.

but the hallway was empty, stark and silent, with only the dim flicker of warm light as your witness. you bit your tongue as your stomach churned sourly with disappointment.

and instead, you just slammed the door shut, letting the sound reveberate with just as much force that gojo had slammed the door with, on his way out. you leaned against the wood, closing your eyes as you did your level best to swallow that lump of regret making a home in your throat.

pacing helped for about...three minutes. shuffling through the case files on the table did nothing but remind you of why you were here, why you had both been sent. after all, was this mission not bigger than you, or him? was this not about bringing naoki sato to justice?

it didn't feel that way.

your gaze landed on the garment bag handing from the chair, untouched from when you had pulled it out earlier, back when gojo had been inviting you...to bed.

sort of.

you unzipped the bag with (mildly) trembling hands, letting the fabric spill into your grasp. no doubt that the dress was beautiful, a masterpiece of icy, powder blue and shimmering sequins that caught the light like scattered stars.

well, this had certainly been worth half your paycheck.

your fingers brushed over the delicate embroidery, and for a moment, you felt a mild sting of your own hypocrisy and yearning heart. you accused gojo of being cold, distant and unfeeling, and yet here you were, holding a dress that reminded you of him in every way. the pale blue of the fabric, like the frost in his storm-eyes when they rested on you for too long.

if you ever came face to face with cupid, you would beat him with a baseball bat.

you sighed, dropping the dress onto the bed before gingerly stepping out of your uniform, as cool air stung your skin.

what had you been thinking, treating gojo like that? he didn't deserve your anger, not truly. you knew how much your former classmate carried, how much he gave himself to this cursed and thankless world.

but of course, the little pronged-devil on your shoulder whispered around the shell of your ear. he often drew equal blood from stinging cuts, no-one wanted to put up with you, anyway.

still, there was no use in showing up to a gathering of some of the world's most rich, wealthy and seedy looking like a hollow and shaken ghost. and this mission was just not about gojo, it was about the greater good of the jujutsu world, and that's what you repeated in your head like a mantra, as you swiped plush-red across your cheeks and lips.

a diamond necklace around your throat was the final touch. well, you say diamond, but the truth was more...cheap. still, the strand shone in linked chains of pretty crystals. and that had still been a minor fortune for one who lived on a jujutsu paycheck.

the hours had stretched the afternoon into evening, settling a fragile calm over the suite that made you ache to stretch your limbs out, and take in some fresh air.

but the silence was shattered by a sharp knock at the door, purposeful and deliberate. and it made you freeze, hands still resting on the straps of your glitzy shoes, a frown knitting your brows.

gojo had the keycard, did he not? but who else would be banging your door down?

with a sigh, you stood and lifted the hem of your dress as you crossed the room. opening the door with every intention of scolding him for whatever drama he was dragging in this time.

instead the words just about died a sad and lonely death on your tongue.

gojo satoru.

for a brief second, your thoughts emptied entirely, as though he had cast infinite void right over you, leaving you staring with a heart that hammered like a caged bird.

gone was his usual, drab uniform. instead, he had swapped the dull fabric for a sleek, black dress shirt that clung just right, paired with a crisp, grey jacket that framed his broad shoulders.

you tried to not let your gaze linger on the open gap right under the white tie that hung slightly loosened from his neck, where silk kissed creamy skin.

but gojo’s face was unreadable, distant and cool. you hated how his mere presence always seemed to tilt the world off its axis.

and you blinked, forcing your mouth to close, and you stepped back to let him in. 

"you’re late. again," you snapped, but your voice lacked its usual venom, tempered by the sharp edges of minor guilt that refused to settle in you.

"whatever. ‘m here now, aren’t i?" gojo’s tone was casual, but his eyes lingered a second too long, leaving your skin prickling with self-conscious awareness. 

it seemed that the universe needed to hit you with some karmic intervention, and you decided to take the rare moral high ground, "about earlier," you began, trying to steady yourself, "i shouldn’t have said -"

"forget it, sweets," gojo interrupted with a shrug, though his jaw was tight, "i’m not keen on hearing excuses. i get it."

you bristled, biting back the immense urge to shove him, an urge that becoming disturbingly frequent, "i wasn’t making excuses," sounding out each word slow and deliberate. anger simmering under the surface at his holier-than-thou attitude, "that was an apology."

that made gojo pause, and now he fully turned to you, expression shifting. though it was hard to read, caught between painful acknowledgement and absurd pride that would include him admitting that he was affected by what you said.

for a moment, he said nothing, and the silence stretched unbearably heavy. but then gojo’s ice-gaze dropped to the necklace scattered over your throat, and he tilted his head, "not too bad," a flicker of a scoff curling at his lips.

"tch, they’re not even real," you blurted, then immediately regretted it, what was wrong with you today? you reached up, fingers grazing the cool crystals as if to shield them from his bemused scrutiny, "just thought i needed something to fit in."

gojo slid a pair of tinted sunglasses from his pocket, sliding them up his nose, smooth and practised, "in a room full of the filthy rich and tastelessly overdressed?" his pink mouth twitched, "you’ll fit in perfectly."

gojo was right. this was just…tacky.

the ground floor of the building had been nothing but a sleek, cold lifeless maze of marble, and now he had led you down into what could only be described as a scene for criminals with bad taste. an abandoned parking lot stretched out in front of you, a grimy stretch of concrete that left you expecting a quiet dead end.

until gojo waved his hand, and the illusion clearly met for non-sorcerer eyes shattered.

before you, a set of massive double doors emerged, seemingly from nowhere, and the lifting of the veil had left you disoriented, nauseous. but when the doors swung open, you almost felt like you were stepping into a warped fever dream.

this room inside was the most bizarre mixture of garish opulence that you had ever seen. gold…everything. the walls plastered in a deep red, like someone had dipped the entire place in velvet swathes and then covered it with more gold leaf.

plush, overstuffed settees sat like soft, jewel-toned thrones in every corner, and glass boxes lined the walls, each holding what looked like nothing more than expensive junk, tacky figurines and diamond-encrusted trinkets.

it was the kind of place you’d absolutely expect a mob boss to call home after a particularly long, indulgent afternoon making questionable life choices.

the hall reeked of wealth, the kind that demanded to be seen. opulence dripped from every corner — gilded fixtures, crystalline chandeliers, and glass displays showcasing treasures that screamed money but whispered nothing of taste. you twitched as you passed a goblet encrusted with enough jewels to buy a small city-state. the thought of how much it probably cost made your stomach twist.

"focus," gojo muttered at your side, his tone clipped. he squinted slightly, his sunglasses doing little to shield his six eyes from the garish light that spilled over the room like liquid gold., and you could tell it was a bit...much for his senses, making him blink rapidly. "we’ll sweep the displays, see if the amulet’s here."

you tilted your head, gesturing toward his snowy mop of hair, the unruly strands falling messily over his face and grazing the edge of his glasses. "and you’re sure they won’t recognise you, in this whole...circus?"

gojo's responding glance was sharp, flat, and utterly devoid of humour.

"most of these people wouldn’t recognise a threat if it was biting them in the ass," he said, voice low and laced with disdain. "they’re not sorcerers. just your garden-variety rich and bored — criminals, trust fund brats, maybe a politician trying to look cultured. the kind of people who buy antiques because they match their curtains and makes them look good for their friends."

the corner of your mouth betrayed you, twitching upward at his cutting dismissal of the glittering nonsense around you. he had hit the nail on the head, making contempt seem like an art form.

and worse, you hated how there was something almost…sexy about it.

the thought hit you like a slap, and you forced it down immediately. gojo and sexy didn’t belong in the same sentence. not in the same universe. fuck, not even as a passing joke.

"charmed as i am by your high opinion of humanity," you said dryly, trying to ground yourself in sarcasm, "maybe don’t make it obvious you hate everyone here. we're not here to arrest every person in this room."

gojo snorted softly, his lips curving into what might have been a smirk — or at least the ghost of one. "you think so little of me. i don’t hate everyone." his eyes flicked toward you, just for a second, before returning to the vast hall ahead.

it wasn’t much. barely a glance of electric blue. but it was enough to send your pulse into a sprint, and fuck him, he had to know it. you turned your attention to the nearest display, praying he didn’t notice the warmth blooming in your cheeks.

traitorous.

"let’s just find the amulet, and sato. and get out of here," you said briskly, your voice a shade too sharp.

"mhm," gojo's voice was infuriatingly calm, but when you looked up, his gaze wasn’t on the displays. it was on you.

"you look lost."

a voice, smooth and low, slid over you like silk, stopping you cold in your tracks. it hadn't come from gojo by your side, thank the heavens above, but it didn't make your heart any steadier. you turned towards the source, and your stomach did a three-point flip.

well. hello, gorgeous.

the type of good-looking that just felt unfair. the type that made you forget your name for half a second, and then hate yourself for it. the strnger stood out against the room of puffed-up men in overpriced suits, glittering with real diamonds of their cuff-links, and rolled cigars in their hands.

your eyes fell on dark auburn strands that fell in perfectly tousled strands over his forehead, and a tailored black suit that hugged a slender waist.

"i hope you didn't wander into the wrong hall," the stranger said, curling his lips into a faint smile, fraught with suspicion as it was.

you forced yourself not to stare — at an absurdly sharp jawline, at big brown eyes. but words were a different matter entirely. you struggled to conjure them, grasping for anything remotely coherent.

you settled on an appropriate response.

"um. no, we didn’t."

not your finest moment. not even close.

before you could mentally regroup with a few brain cells, a sharp jolt yanked you back to reality. you sucked in a sharp breath as gojo's long fingers pinched the underside of your arm, a deliberate sting that left you glaring at him.

he didn’t even bother to meet your eyes.

his entire focus was fixed on the stranger, his posture taut with unspoken tension, gojo's jaw clenched so tight you thought he might crack a perfect tooth.

the air shifted subtly, a faint hum of energy emanating from gojo. you knew that hum. it meant trouble. gojo, ever the master of simmering hostility, was gearing up for something, and he was looking weirdly agitated.

and you found it tasteless to jump the first person you had run into here.

"i usually know most of the guests at my events," the stranger continued, his voice calm, unbothered — but there was an edge to it, like he already knew the answer to the question he hadn’t asked.

oh.

you felt your stomach plummet as recognition dawned.

naoki sato.

no wonder gojo looked ready to snap someone in half. naoki wasn’t just anyone — he was the head of the voiceless. the host of this auction. the man whose fortune was built on enough shady dealings to fill a large library. the one who had more blood on his hands than those who had been dealt life sentences.

one of the most wanted jujutsu criminals in the world.

"you've — " gojo started, his voice sharp, but you cut him off with a forced, almost too-bright smile.

"you've thrown quite the party," you said, your words tripping over themselves as you elbowed gojo subtly, hoping to god he’d take the hint. "i’m actually quite new to the area. just exploring, hoping to find something good tonight."

gojo let out a low grunt, a sound that promised retribution later. you ignored him and plastered on a wider smile, one you hoped would distract from your partner's upcoming reversal: red.

"and, ah. this is my bodyguard...genji," you added, giving gojo's arm a firm retributive pinch through the fabric of his jacket.

the look he shot you could've melted steel, but you held your ground, determined not to let him ruin this.

if for once, he could take your plan into account, a great deal of bloodshed could be avoided.

naoki's faint cherry smile widened, bemused, "your…bodyguard?" he echoed, gaze flickering to gojo satoru.

gojo who stood like a coiled spring, gojo who certainly was no method actor. his icy glare practically speaking volumes of 'i will burn this room down.'

"well," naoki drawled, his tone almost playful now, and you flushed, "i hope you find what you’re looking for here."

behind him, his entourage, a cadre of hulking men stuffed into suits barely containing their bulk, followed with synchronised precision. they looked more like walking fortresses than bodyguards, with their cold and suspicious eyes cutting through the room as they passed.

one of them shot you an odd look, and you forced yourself to feign interest in a nearby display of sapphire-encrusted forks.

the moment the criminal was out of earshot, gojo leaned down, "genji? really?"

you shrugged, ignoring how you felt your nerves fray. and refusing to meet him half-way, "what? okay, i panicked. it was the first name i thought of."

"yeah, that was so convincing," gojo muttered darkly beside you, and you caught some bitten off words about how he was never going on a mission with you again, how yaga should never have roped him into this.

all things you blithely ignored.

you didn’t need to look at him to know he was furious. it rolled off him in waves, the tension in his posture, the barely audible hum of cursed energy still crackling under the surface.

"we don't even know where the amulet is. and imagine if we show up in front of yaga without it. you can do whatever you like with him after we get our hands on the cursed object," you whispered back, pretending to study the ridiculous cutlery with exaggerated focus.

gojo lowered his head, as though he suddenly saw the worth in gemstones embedded in cutlery, but just enough so he could glower at you. "you're flirting," he hissed, "i could have blasted through half this room, and just finished the job by now."

you coughed and hackled, "not all of us think effective battles are fought with a hollow purple."

"and not all of us,” gojo bit back, "feel the need to blush like schoolgirls the second someone bats an eyelash at us."

heat shot through you, part anger, part something you didn’t want to name. "blush?” you snapped. "i wasn’t blushing."

"you just wanted to jump his bones. thought we weren't here to get it wet."

"i'm not entertaining this conversation," but your voice was mildly higher pitched, drawing attention, "is that why you were there? standing like an idiot, or a jealous ex-boyfriend?"

gojo's sneer faltered, just for a split second, but it was enough to make your heart lurch with a strange, vindictive triumph.

"i wasn’t jealous," he said, "i was doing my job. y'know, being a jujutsu sorcerer. bringing a criminal to justice."

you opened your mouth, ready to retort, but no words came. because he wasn’t entirely wrong, and that infuriated you more than anything.

so instead, you lifted your hand, placing it firmly on his shoulder, onto the crisp and fine fabric of his jacket. you didn't miss the way he stiffened, briefly disarmed.

"look, i've got this. just stay close."

gojo's jaw tightened, and you could feel the unspoken protest simmering there. before he could get a word in, you turned away and called out.

"hey! naoki!"

the red-haired man stopped mid-stride, turning his head back toward you with a quizzical look. the confident words you’d planned evaporated the moment his sharp, brown eyes pinned you in place.

"i mean, naoki sato. mr. sato," you fumbled, mentally kicking yourself.

brilliant start. truly one of jujutsu tech's finest.

naoki raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from confusion to faint amusement. his gaze flicked to gojo, who had crossed his arms like a fortress of disdain and immense ill-will.

"found something you like?" naoki asked smoothly.

you ignored the huff that escaped the white-haired man next to you, and forced a smile, "actually, i was hoping you could help me choose something out. i'm not an expert here, and there's just so much to see."

naoki's bodyguards shifted, their expressions darkening as if you’d committed some unspoken faux pas. but the crime boss merely tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"ah, well," he said, drawing the word out lazily, "i don’t usually get this forward with my clients, but i suppose i'll make an exception."

his eyes slid once again to gojo, who was now glowering at a waiter hovering too close to his personal space, on the edges of infinity. "your bodyguard," naoki added helpfully, "can walk behind you. perhaps he'd like a drink to keep him occupied."

gojo's snarl could have peeled garish paint off the walls, "i don't want it."

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the stubborn ass.

instead, you pasted on a smile, tight and sweet, and shot gojo a look that could cut glass, "our host is offering you something. you want that drink, genji."

"i don’t want cream soda," gojo muttered, all mulish in his six foot three glory.

gritting your teeth, you flashed naoki a helpless look, like what can you do? bodyguards, am i right?

and you reached for the waiter's tray, grabbing a tall glass of the offending soda and thrusting it into gojo's warm hand. then you leaned in, your voice a whisper, "take it. smile and act normal. ten minutes, that’s all i need."

for a moment, his blue eyes locked on yours, a storm of irritation twirling in them. you were now close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, close enough to notice the faintest hitch in his breath.

but gojo, for once, didn’t argue. with a final glare, he downed half the glass in one long, defiant gulp, his adam’s apple bobbing as he drank.

naoki laughed, watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled amusement, "you're very kind to the help. shall we?"

you shot gojo satoru one last look — a mix of triumph and warning —before stepping forward.

but your partner, predictably, looked like he'd rather swallow glass than stand a moment longer here. still, bodyguard is as bodyguard does, and he trailed after you like a reluctant shadow.

"i must admit," naoki began, his brown eyes catching the glittering lights as they swept over you, "it's rare to see someone so beautiful at these things. i think i would have remembered seeing you before, too. i'm usually stuck with old men trying to swindle me out of my fortune."

a flush climbed up your neck, unwelcome and irritating at what must have been calculated words, enough to flatter and also to disarm.

behind you, gojo audibly scoffed, clearly abandoning all manner of proper etiquette. you glanced over your shoulder to see him gripping the stem of a champagne flute, his knuckles white. the empty glass of cream soda had been abandoned in favour of something stronger.

he caught your eye and rolled his, making a slicing gesture at his neck followed by a pointed hurry up motion.

"ignore him," you murmured to naoki, pushing forward.

naoki’s eyes gleamed with amusement, easily unbothered as he gestured for you to continue walking. "does your bodyguard always look like he’s seconds away from murder, or is this special treatment for me?"

you didn’t dare look back at gojo, “he’s just protective," you said carefully.

naoki chuckled, "protective, sure. but of his job...or you?"

the words struck a nerve you refused to acknowledge, so you pressed the conversation forward. ignoring the jitter that erupted in your stomach.

"can i ask...," you said, tilting your head just enough to feign casual curiosity, "are these all cursed objects? or just pretty trinkets?"

naoki's amusement didn’t falter, but his gaze sharpened, assessing you like you were a puzzle he was only now beginning to piece together.

"why?” he asked smoothly, "are you interested in jujutsu? i thought you were here to...browse."

fuck, caught, but not completely.

you played it off with a small shrug. "some members of my family dabble in jujutsu," you said, letting a sliver of truth escape, but letting the rest of your words drip with lies, "i can only see curses, i'm not a sorcerer. but most of my family still hates me for how i was born."

behind you, gojo shifted, his movements a touch sharper than before. he hadn’t known that, hadn't known the small truth that you had snuck into your words.

but naoki's expression softened, his smile more thoughtful now. "that’s rare. and often not appreciated, i imagine.”

you hesitated, cautiously, but nodded. "not by them, no."

"i understand. my parents hated jujutsu. thought it was unnatural, and against the way of the world. my grandfather...he was the only one who didn't," and there's a quiet sincerity threading naoki sato's words, "he raised me when my parents refused to. at least, until he passed."

something in his story tugged at you — a familiarity you hadn’t expected. your family’s disdain for your own jujutsu, their rejection, mirrored in his words. it was unsettling, but oddly not unwelcome.

"i’m sorry about your grandfather," you said softly.

"and i, about your family,” naoki replied, a calm mask settling over his features once more, reminding you so painfully of the sorcerer who trailed behind you, "no-one should be made to feel lesser, sorcerer or not."

you caught your lip between your teeth, hoping the red stain didn't catch onto your teeth, "i thought most sorcerers hated humans."

naoki shrugged, "we aren't all that different. all flesh and blood with temporary lives."

oddly wise words from a mass murderer, thief and criminal.

you glanced over at gojo again, and just as you predicted, his scowl deepened and the glass looked like it was about a shatter in his hands. if looks could kill, naoki sato would be the first to go, no questions asked, followed by you.

naoki snickered, "your shadow grows restless."

"ignore him, please," you muttered, stepping closer to a glass case to distract yourself, "what’s this?"

naoki followed, stepping closer so you could catch the scent of expensive almond and saffron, "ah," he said, gesturing at the artefact inside, "a blade, from ming dynasty china. the jade serpent on the hilt grants its wearer the ability to control minds. some say it can even raise the dead."

the claim sent a shiver down your spine, but you masked it with feigned interest, nodding as naoki moved on.

"and here," he continued, pointing to a golden ring, with an oddly boyish grin for someone dealing in murderous items, "the lion's eyes. said to see through any veil, any curse. the last treasure of the dynasty of the pharoahs."

you tried to listen, but gojo's presence loomed larger with every word. his disdain for naoki sato, his barely concealed anger at the stolen objects— it was all too palpable. when you glanced back, his scowl had deepened, and the champagne glass in his hand looked on the verge of shattering.

if looks could kill, naoki sato would already be six feet under. you would be next on the list.

you swallowed hard, turning back to naoki sato and pointing at the next display. "and this?"

naoki pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks, "the broken english crown. apparently worn by the last king to die on the battlefield, and i haven't tried it on," he shares this with you, with a conspiratorial smile, "but legends say it fractures the bones of anyone deemed not powerful enough to wear it."

this criminal was not what you had expected at all. it was hard to reconcile the image of a hardened criminal with years of ruthless ambition, with this effortless charm and disarming way of making you lose the blurred line of correct propriety. you tried not to stare at how the warm light caught his auburn hair, like the autumn leaves in the dappled sun.

and yet, it wasn’t just his looks that threw you off. it was the way he carried himself — like he had nothing to prove and everything to hide. dangerous in a different way, one that was far harder to guard against.

it reminded you of gojo satoru.

"you know, i have to admit," naoki said, gesturing to the gilded displays around him, "most of this stuff? tacky as hell. but then, you would be surprised what most people would pay for tacky."

from a swindler, fraud and scammer? you were quite sure.

"funny, coming from someone whose livelihood depends on it. isn't that gaudy by association?"

naoki winked, and you averted your gaze from long brown lashes fluttering against soft skin, "touché. but people don't want to just buy the artefact, or the cursed object. they want the story. that shit's priceless."

you swallowed, focusing on how gojo was trying to draw your attention to a glass case hidden by all the others, and you hoped you weren't squinting, "so, you're just a storyteller then?"

but beside you, naoki sato tilted his head, "you could say that."

you thought of the clipped photos printed into the file. some in black and white, and some in raging shades of colour. where naoki sato's hands had painted entire buildings in shades of sticky red, and heads rolled on the floor. where his enhance technique could burst arteries and lungs, leaving people in pieces on the floor.

"sounds dramatic," you said, though your voice came out quieter than you intended.

"life's dramatic, and too short to not take what i want," naoki replied with a faint smile, his hand lightly brushing your waist as he guided you further past long tables.

you leaned into it without thinking, a tiny movement that made a creamy, berry flush paint over naoki's features. and the sorcerer's laugh was warm, low, like he’d already won something you didn’t realise was at stake.

behind you, a sharp cough broke the moment.

gojo.

you let your lips curl into a faint smile and leaned into naoki's just a fraction more, with a very deliberate look, one that spoke of triumph and having tamed a beast.

gojo's scowl deepened, his shoulders taut with barely restrained frustration, and he started mouthing at you, silent as his lips parted. if you read his mouth carefully, well...

he was calling you rather unflattering names.

"what's that?" but it was gojo's voice that roughly cut through the air, like gravel grinding underfoot. his shaded eyes were fixed on the glass case tucked in the corner.

you followed his gaze, past his outstretched arm, and your stomach twisted.

raijin's amulet.

the cursed object you’d been hunting, the one you’d sworn to protect at all costs, gleamed innocently behind its protective glass. you could recognise the serpentine dragon coiled protectively around the stone at its centre, its intricate carving daring anyone to claim it.

your frantic eyes met gojo's. his were sharp, seething. then, both your gazes flicked to naoki.

naoki, of course, noticed nothing — or pretended not to. he let out a soft hum, following gojo's pointed stare.

"the bodyguard's interested too?"

you coughed, cutting through the rising tension before gojo could turn that look into something explosive. the glass case between them might as well have been kindling for the fire brewing.

"it's mainly for academics," you said, feigning an air of curiosity. then, with practiced innocence, you tilted your head and smiled at the dangerous special grade cursed object as if it were nothing more than an ordinary trinket.

"but it’s so pretty. what is it, really?"

naoki's hand tightened subtly on your waist, and you tried to ignore the guilt that bubbled up in your chest when his sharp features softened at your feigned interest.

"it’s just an old thing," he said, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret meant only for you, "did you know it once belonged to ryomen sukuna?"

your mouth was dry, but you kept your face blank, tilting your head as though you’d never heard the name before, "sukuna?"

naoki pressed his palm to the glass case, his expression shifting into something darker, more reverent.

"the king of curses," he murmured. "lived over a thousand years ago. ruthless. when he died, most of his treasures were plundered by clans too greedy for their own good. but this..." he tapped the glass softly. "this one? it wasn't easy to get my hands on."

you leaned closer, feigning fascination while calculating your next move, trying to figure out how you could get close enough to that glass case without shattering the illusion cast on naoki sato, "what does it do?"

for a moment, naoki's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their depths. but just as quickly, his expression smoothed out, and he chuckled.

"trust me, beautiful," he said, his voice like silk with an edge of warning. "you don’t want to wear that thing. i could get you something far more...safe."

you forced a smile, ignoring the chill that ran down your spine. instead, you threw a quick, desperate glance at gojo — a silent plea for the strongest to listen to you: i'll distract him. you get the amulet.

gojo's expression tightened, but his head snapped once, briefly, in the faintest hint of acknowledgement.

time to move.

you let out a soft, breathy laugh and tugged naoki toward a table, your hand brushing his arm with casual ease. "let’s sit," you suggested, leaning into his toned chest just enough to sell the act. "all this walking is making me tired."

naoki's laughter was warm, a touch too easy, and he let you guide him without resistance, "tsk, whatever you want," he murmured.

now you're trusting gojo satoru, simply because you had no other choice. he had to get the amulet out of the glass before alarms began to blare, and before needless blood was spilt over the glimmering floor.

and so you sat, letting naoki have his back to gojo, oblivious to the white-haired shadow slipping closer to the case. your eyes lingered on gojo, pulse racing each time he disappeared behind one of naoki's own burly guards.

but then naoki sato's gaze locked onto you, drawing your attention back with a searing warmth that caught you off guard.

"so," he asked, eyes glinting, "what do you think of all...this?"

"it's impressive," and you're surprised at how the truth has found a home in your mouth, "i didn't ever think of different sorcerers, around the world."

naoki leaned closer, with his elbows on his thighs, propping his face upon his hands, "most people don't. here, it's all about jujutsu. tokyo, this. kyoto, that. the higher ups are so narrow-minded. stuck in their ways, obsessed with tradition. they don't know anything about the world out there."

for a moment, his words startled you. they weren’t the boastful musings of a crime boss but something else. they reminded you of how gojo spoke about the rigidity of the old ways, about why he fought so hard to change things, to create a better world for jujutsu sorcerers.

ah, focus.

"hey," naoki suddenly said, pulling you out of your thoughts. his gaze was sharper now, more intense. and over his shouder, you caught the faintest blur of white hair in the background, gojo's movements.

but it was hard to focus on anything but naoki sato's face — the sharp lines softened by his proximity, the warmth in his dark eyes that you didn’t want to admit was almost magnetic.

he was a man marked for execution, and the warrant must have been burning a hole through your suite on the highest floor.

yet here he was, looking at you like you were something worth risking everything for.

and suddenly, you weren’t sure you wanted to see autumn's locks matted with rusted blood. to see eyes go dull and lifeless.

you felt like you had the moral spine of a sponge.

"can i kiss you?"

the question hit like a punch to the gut. your lips parted, but no sound came out. and suddenly, the steps in the background stopped too.

naoki's hand came up to your jaw, his touch unexpectedly reverent, and all you could think was: distraction. right. distract him for gojo. what the fuck is taking him so long?

so you closed the distance.

naoki's lips captured yours with a softness that disarmed you, but the kiss was anything but tentative, and you could taste a sweet tang like lemons and sugar. but you let his large hands pull you closer and his touch was warm and intoxicating.

the kind that made you forget, just for a moment, that this was all a ruse.

his lips moved against yours with a heat that made everything else fade to black, and his hands slid down your waist and back, tracing lines that felt dangerously real.

when you finally pulled away for air, your lips tingled, and your breath came in short bursts. you couldn’t help yourself — you reached up, your fingers brushing against his now-flushed lips, glossy under your touch, and you hated the way your stomach twisted from the way naoki sato melted under your touch.

focus, again.

you hoped, prayed, that gojo was doing his part, taking advantage of the way you had naoki sato, one of the most dangerous men in the entire world, wrapped around your finger, and bruising his tongue into your mouth.

but your gaze flicked upwards, past his shoulder and collided with something that stopped your heart cold.

electric blue. devastatingly vibrant, crackling with a fury that hit the air like a thunderstorm.

gojo's eyes pinned you in place, shadows pooling in sharp cerulean, from shades that had slipped just a touch down his nose. no mask to shield whatever expression gojo had clearly painted across his face.

hurt? anger? what the fuck, was that betrayal?

your throat tightened, and you resisted the urge to dig your nails into naoki's tailored jacket, to hiss at gojo to get a move on. to stop standing there like he had been hit with a shovel.

but the words didn't quite form, didn't pull at the corners of your mouth to silently shape them. his expression just held you captive, no. shamed you.

and that made you angrier. he had no right to look at you like that, like you had just crossed a line that you didn't even know was there.

but under you, naoki shifted, tilted your chip up to meet his lips again, and you let him. you...wanted him to. but the heat of his lips didn't drown out the chill of gojo's stare. your own body betrayed you with a shiver, one that you couldn't quite place yourself.

nerves, or desire.

the kiss was firmer this time, insistent, as if naoki sato was staking his claim in front of an invisible audience. his hand cupped the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw with maddening ease, over the pulse of your neck.

and for a second, it was too easy to fall into the lie. but you felt it: the searing weight of gojo's glower burning into you, not far away.

naoki pulled back just slightly, his breath fanning your lips, "hey, you're distracted," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his eyes scanning your face as though he wanted to read every thought. "should i be offended?"

"no," you said quickly, almost too quickly, "just a lot to take in."

naoki smiles, all coy and glazed lips, clearly pleased by what he thought was pure flattery, and not the glowering six-eyes shining behind him. "good. i think 'm gonna like leaving you speechless."

part of you knows that you just aren't seeing those pearly gates of heaven.

you know there's going to be a bouncer at the doors, with your face printed on a photo titled: dni! fraud! liar! the world's most incompetent jujutsu sorcerer! would bounce into a criminal's bed at first chance!

naoki's warm thumb lingers against your jaw, and your breath hitches just enough for the sorcerer to notice. you don't miss how his eyes darken, a hint of triumph gleaming in them.

you risked a glance past his shoulder again, and gojo was still there, stony-faced as naoki's own guards. but there's something else broiling in his eyes, rolling over his face like a thunderstorm cracks over a grassy plain. the fury in his eyes hadn't lessened, but now it was laced with something sharper, something that you can finally read.

jealousy. absolute glass-shattering, world-stopping levels of envy paint over gojo satoru's face.

the realisation hits you like a punch to the gut.

was he jealous of naoki sato? of you? of this entire charade that you both had agreed to? or rather, the one you had roped him into.

the idea shouldn’t have thrilled you, but it did. and it terrified you just as much.

you let naoki kiss you again, forcing yourself to deepen it this time, your hands coming up to rest against his hard chest. you don't miss how he suddenly parts from your lips, panting softly into your mouth, and suddenly you're hit with the most awful wave of longing for a man who cannot have.

naoki’s large hands, however, weren’t idle. one brushed the edge of your dress, under the shoulder strap of your powder-blue gown, his thumb grazing against the fabric, and your breath hitched.

you shift, your breath stuttering as naoki's other hand slides higher, his fingers brushing against the flesh of your thigh, pushing your dress higher, and his hand brushes against the silver details on the side, scratching your skin. it's maddening how cool air meets the heat of your now exposed skin, and naoki's mouth crushes against yours, as if he's equally savouring the taste of you.

"t-there are people here," you gasp, your voice a fractured whisper, trembling at the edge of composure, "what if they can see or watch?"

gojo satoru is here. gojo is watching. you know your partner is close enough to hear every breathless sound you make, every treasonous whine that slips past your lips.

but naoki sato's mouth is curved into a plush, wicked smile, "let them look," and his teeth are grazing against the curve enough in a way that makes you arch your back into him, he who is now leaning over you, as if he's the one trying to capture you, "who cares - hah?"

any reasonable thought of your duty. of honour, of a mission flees from your head.

the sight of gojo's softly parted mouth and darkened eyes as he watches you in another man's arms spurs you on, and you let naoki sato press his lips against the hollow of his throat.

naoki's long fingers are blazing as they reach the very apex of your thighs. as they press two rough pads into the sopping slick that's gathered in your panties, as they run themselves along dampened fabric in a way that has you openly keening.

"can i?" and your eyes meet the mahogany gaze of the man above you. it's electrifying. you should be ashamed, furious at how you're just being taken like this, on display. but this is a room of the seven deadly sins, where each corner of the room is a lesson in hedonism, and obscene wealth.

"please."

but your eyes are only on gojo satoru behind him. on how he catches the pale-pink of his bottom lip between his teeth, and his face is seething. how his darkened eyes drop to naoki's hand working its way between your legs, and you wantonly roll your hips up to meet him there.

you let writhing fingers slip under the waistband of your pale-blue underwear, dipping into glossy, thick arousal. but you also don't miss the tent in gojo satoru's grey slacks, only metres away, and the frenzied look making him look pained.

you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy moaning openly, spreading your legs just a bit wider, so gojo could get a glimpse of your drooling cunt.

"fuck, 's good. so good, naoki."

a finger travels up, away from your winking entrance to press a soft flick against your throbbing clit, "yeah?"

and the beautiful man in between your legs all but purrs. pleased beyond measure at how you've apparently been captured, heart and soul by him. and your attention snaps back to how he suddenly draws his fingers off your soaked cunt, and brings them up to his mouth.

"sweetest thing i've ever tasted, i think 'm gonna have -"

and then, it hit you.

a hot, sticky spray of liquid.

the scent of iron slammed into your senses as fresh blood splattered across your face, your chest, and stained the delicate blue of your dress into a deep and damning red. it clung to your skin, to your lips as you pressed your mouth shut, fighting the bile rising in your throat.

reversal: red crackled in the air, cursed energy humming sharp, and it had sliced through the hall like a whip. naoki's arm had been torn from your waist, wrenched away as he staggered back with a guttural hiss, and you avert your eyes from the blood that paints the space between you.

"that's enough."

gojo satoru's voice is like a thunderclap, reverberating around your ears, and when you finally meet his gaze, you're met with unbridled fury. you're not sure where his shades have gone, but you're met with the full weight of six-eyes, blazing and unrelenting.

naoki stumbles ahead of you, clutching his shoulder where blood seeps through his fingers, torn between shock and raw rage. his cherry-lips are curled back into a snarl, flush with indignation.

"hah, you're a sorcerer?," and naoki sato's voice drips with venom, heavy with disbelief.

you're not quite sure gojo satoru needs to answer. not when his presence alone sends waves of cold through the hall, cutting the air precisely, cleaving it.

but there's a man running towards the commotion, a guard encumbered by a hefty black suit, and there's a cold shock that runs through you as your eyes fall on the gun at his side.

"we think that's gojo satoru," the guard wheezes, breathless.

"you're telling me this now? i gave you fuckwits one job," naoki snarls, shaking the man, with his nails dug into the guard's shoulder.

and you're quickly pushing your dress down, letting the fabric spill over your legs once more, fighting back the hot sparks that sting at your eyes.

it's enough to snap naoki's attention back to you. and for a moment, for the briefest of moment, he wasn't the hardened criminal you had been playing this dangerous game with. a boy your age, wild and beautiful, and utterly undone.

and it heaves your stomach at how the fury in his gaze trembles slightly, just enough to reveal betrayal underneath that strikes you harder than any limitless could.and it struck you harder than any whip of magic ever could.

"i must be stupid, fuck," naoki's voice cracks as he spits the words, his expression twisted with something raw, something painfully human, "you’re a jujutsu sorcerer too, aren't you?"

the accusation was a dagger, his voice trembling with disbelief but its wholly true, and your head wavers in a half-shake, half-nod.

"you’re with him, aren't you? just another one of the higher up's lapdogs?"

the words weren’t a question — they were a condemnation.

naoki's lips are curled, and his bloodied arm is now trembling but steady, defiance burning through the pain.

and a whisper in your mind tells you to smash the glass case holding the amulet, to push through it with your bare hands, just so you can bleed alongside him.

but naoki sato's bitter scoff shatters that thought, and his gaze must have followed yours, sharp and knowing, for his hand has moved faster, pulling the gun from the guard's holster.

the blast came before you could even think, loud and jarring.

but you never saw the bullet's path, only gojo.

gojo, whose arm has snapped in front of you like a barrier, impossibly fast, and well within the bounds of his infinity. as if he had tore through space itself.

the bullet collides with infinity, ricocheting into the chaos of the panicking crowd.

naoki’s gaze didn’t waver. it slices back to gojo, sharp, calculating, and darkly amused. he must have seen it now, everything.

the truth was etched in the way gojo had positioned himself, the way his blazing blue eyes never left you, the unspoken claim humming in the air like a second heartbeat.

naoki sato's laugh is lower, bitter, and you watch the mesmerising plink! of crimson on the floor.

"he's protecting you, isn’t he?" his voice dripped with venom, each word striking like a dagger, "how sweet.”

and just like that, something broke. gojo's restraint, most likely.

you can see how his fingers are flexing, his hands lifting and cursed energy is coiling at his fingertips. his thumb and index finger brush, a telltale sign of an impending blast. hollow purple.

you clench your eyes shut, bracing for the devastation of the impact —

but naoki sato was faster.

his arms snapped outward, a surge of his own jujutsu ripping through the space between you. the bodyguards around you crumpled like ragdolls, their bodies bursting under the pressure. blood sprayed in thick, sticky waves, painting the walls, the floor — against the edges of infinity.

you opened your eyes in time to see gojo falter, his hands trembling as he stared at the carnage. even he, the unflinching sorcerer, the strongest, looked shaken by the sheer brutality of what cursed technique: enhance was capable of.

and in the heartbeat of his hesitation, naoki was gone.

"fuck's sake! s-satoru! let go of me!" you snap, voice cracking with fury as you fight against gojo's tight grasp.

his vivid focus shoots back to you, his expression a storm of anger and disbelief, "what?" and gojo's voice is razer-sharp, "if you think i'm letting you go after that stunt you pulled -"

"shut up!" and you can feel your own desperation cut through the air, "you go after him, i'll go after the amulet."

you toss your head to the shattered glass and the chaos erupting all around you, "if that thing gets lost in the mess, we've done this all for nothing!"

gojo's jaw is clenched, his mouth pressed into a hard and furious line. for a moment, you think he's going to argue with you again, but then you're dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

pain shoots through your knees as you land, but you're soon hauling yourself up.

"go!" you hiss, shoving at his shoulder, "i'll come find you when i have it."

gojo hesitates for a fraction of a second longer, then he's gone — a blur of movement faster than your eyes could track, leaving you alone in the chaos.

your hands tremble as you grab a heavy steel bar from the wreckage, swinging it with all your strength at the glass case. the sound of shattering glass barely registers as you reach inside, your fingers curling around the cold, smooth surface of the amulet.

wild shocks run through you, and you almost keel over, feeling the rush and pulse of such a cursed object against your skin. but it's safe. you have it now.

with it clutched tightly in your hand, you turned and run.

by now, you can't find it within yourself to stop the hot tears from running down your cheeks, streaming freely as you tear through the blood-soaked scene.

you run, the air sharp and cold against your skin, your heartbeat an unrelenting drum in your ears. the thump! making your head pound.

you can follow the residuals of gojo's cursed energy, lingering like a sickly beacon, drawing you back to the dull parking lot. you pushed open the doors with both hands, red smudging onto the concrete as you ignored the sting of your palms

and then you saw it. saw it all.

the scene hits you like a wrecking ball, knocking the breath clean from your lungs.

a body lies crumpled on the ground, its lifelessness more harrowing than the carnage that surrounds it. blood, thick and sticky, smears across the concrete. massive pillars, toppled like a child's toys in the wake of a clear explosion.

your gaze snags on a limp hand sprawled on the floor, and you feel your stomach twist. instinctively, your tongue slides against the back of your teeth, and the metallic tang of iron is already sleeping into your senses.

and then, there was gojo satoru.

he stands amid the wreckage, like a figure carved from shadows, and ice. and fury. his chest softly rises and falls, as though he had been running for miles, his hair disheveled and darkened with sweat.

the sight of him might have almost been human, almost comforting. if not for the gore streaked across his hands, and the thing he drops onto the concrete with a hollow thud.

you don't look at it. you don't think you can. your stomach knows the truth before your mind catches up, bile heaving within you once more.

the head of naoki sato. he would never have stood a chance against the strongest sorcerer in modern history.

final task: retrieve artefact. execute naoki sato on site. alternatively, bring in for execution.

you mind flashes back to that dastardly pink sticky note, still stuck to the case file.

what did you feel now? anger? sadness?

maybe both. maybe neither.

the blood pooling in front of gojo is already congealing, its sickly shine dimming in the cold, fluorescent light of the lot.

you were tired of seeing blood, of tasting it on your tongue, of breathing it in like the very air you needed to survive.

you’d thought there would be relief in the end. but instead, disappointment had rooted itself deep inside you, twisting itself.

naoki sato, for all his crimes and cruetly, had been...something. somewhere beneath the sly smirks and sharp words, there had been glimpses of something that almost looked like hope. he had said he wanted better — for everyone. for you. was it a lie? or had you twisted his words into something more comforting than the truth, desparate to see light where there was none?

your throat burns, but no tears come. just a hollow ache that matches the cold weight of raijin's amulet in your hand. you looked at it now, the thing you’d fought so hard to win, its edges biting into your skin, the dragon leaving its mark.

gojo's voice cut through the silence, low and ragged, and tired, "don’t look."

you hadn’t even realised you were staring, your eyes hovering dangerously close to the lifeless hand on the ground.

"i'm sorry," he had continued, his tone strangely neutral, as if apologising for a cracked glass rather than the irrevocable violence around him, that seemed to trail after him, "i had to do it."

you laughed then, short and bitter, the sound cracking like a whip against the cold air. "had to, gojo?" your voice trembled, not with fear, but something darker. something far more raw.

his gaze had snapped to you, and there it was — the thing that always churned between you two. a storm of emotions, tangled so tightly you could no longer tell where hate ended and yearning began.

"you think this is the resolution i wanted?" gojo shot back, his voice laced with something too jagged to be regret. "you think i enjoyed that?"

and in the most twisted, perverse theatre of your mind's eye, you see gojo's open-mouthed stare, focused on how another man touched you, made you his.

"i don’t know what you enjoy anymore," you take a step closer, your grip tightening on amulet until your knuckles whitened. but the air pushed from your lungs, "but - god, gojo. forget it. i-i don't even know. 'm sorry, too."

gojo sighs, and you see the exhaustion hanging over him too, "we'll go back tomorrow morning."

the walk back to your room is…suffocating. the air is thick with everything that you just cannot say, words that you can't even bring your heavy tongue to shape.

gojo is beind you, and you can feel the weight of his presence pressing between your shoulder blades, but you just can't turn around. you don't dare to. raijin's amulet is still clenched in your hand, and its edges are cutting into your palm, a form of self-flagellation you suppose.

you push the door open, and your breath catches and hitches as you slip inside, slamming it shut after he follows. locking it with shaking hands.

in the suite, the moonlight now slices through the half-drawn curtains, as the tokyo skyline glimmers underneath you. it's painting silver lines across gojo's spectral frame, and he strides to the amenities sink, a smaller outlet near the door.

you watch, as though you're holding a sacred vigil.

your gaze doesn't leave gojo's figure as he throws his jacket off his sharp torso with a disgusted sigh, leaving him in his black dress shirt and a loosened tie.

still watching as his movements are tense, restless as he cups water from the faucet in his hands, splashing it onto his face.

when he finally looks up, gojo's white is hair dripping, his tie slightly askew, and his tired eyes catch yours like a snare.

for a moment, you’re frozen. neither of you say a word. the air feels too thin to breathe, and his gaze is too much — too piercing, too relentless, too him.

you can’t take it.

with a sharp motion, you slam the amulet onto the table, the sound echoing through the quiet room. you spin on your heel and lock yourself in the bathroom, shutting him out.

inside, the luxurious space feels surreal. marble floors gleam under the soft glow of recessed lighting, gold fixtures glinting and stinging your eyes. it smells faintly of jasmine and mint, too perfect for the mess you're about to create.

you grip the edge of the sink as the first sob wrenches its way out of your chest, hot and raw.

tears spill over, cascading down your cheeks in waves you can’t control. they come faster, harder, until you’re gasping, choking on gulps of air that burn in your throat.

you sink onto the cool floor tiles, your knees pulled to your chest as the sobs wrack your body. the weight of everything, what you did, gojo's eyes gleaming, naoki sato's hands on you, the smell of blood, it all crashes over you like a tidal wave. it’s too much for a human heart to bear in one night.

but your hands are shaking as you reach for the hem of your once beautiful dress, peeling it off with clumsy, desperate motions. the air is cool against your skin, you who is now left in undergarments.

and you stare blankly at the blood that smears your arms and legs, before grabbing a small towel, dampening it under the sink and wiping crimson stains away.

small cuts sting on your skin, faint patches where glass struck you, and you hiss.

a knock rattles the bathroom door, sharp and unrelenting, dragging you back to reality.

you close your eyes and exhale through gritted teeth, your voice brittle, "not now, gojo."

silence follows, stretching out long enough to offer the illusion of peace. but then it breaks. another knock, louder, more insistent this time.

"satoru, i swear to god," you snap, your exhaustion fraying into something sharp, laced with more venom now.

there’s a sigh from the other side, audible even through the thick wood, "don't make me blast this door down."

you groan, rolling your eyes as you toss the bloodied towel onto the counter, "you wouldn't dare."

"try me. just open the door, would'you?"

you don’t have the energy to argue, and something in his tone tells you that gojo isn’t bluffing. and so you dragged yourself upright, swinging the door open with more force than necessary.

gojo stands there, with damp hair still clinging to his forehead, beads of water trailing down his templates. and his sleeves are rolled up now, revealing thick forearms flecked with rust and crimson. it wouldn't be his. no, gojo hasn't bled in over a decade.

you straighten, aware of your own state right now. in your undergarments, only shielding you from being entirely bare under his gaze. but the only clothes in this room with you are now crumpled on the floor, in a heap of ice-blue and dark red.

let him look. he's seen more than enough now.

and so you lean back against the sink, crossing your arms as your eyes meet blue, "what do you want?"

gojo hesitates, his jaw tightening as he braces himself. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, rough around the edges, "just...asking if you're alright."

the laugh that escapes you is sharp and hollow, devoid of any humour, "why wouldn't i be?"

gojo's faze flickers, his expression unreadable, but his eyes linger a moment too long. you let him trace the dried blood smeared across your collarbone, the faint scratches on your skin.

"after all of that tonight..." he starts, but the words hang in the air between the two of you, unfinished. his voice suddenly falters, and you're struck by how gojo's razor-sharp confidence has dulled into something weaker, more conflicted.

you know exactly what he means. the stunt he's referring to, in his own earlier words. you wonder what exactly is eating at him now. is it honest concern, pride? residual envy?

"please, trust me. i'm fine, we managed to do what was asked of us, anyway," you clip curtly, hoping your tone is final enough.

gojo looks at you like he doesn't believe a single syllable that slips from your bitten lips, but then his shoulders sag and he exhales sharply, "fine," he mutters, turning on his heel as if he's the one that can't stand to be near you any longer.

"wait."

the word slips out before you can stop it, and gojo pauses, and his eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

you swallow hard, suddenly unsure of yourself, and lift a clean towel from the counter, helping yourself to another one of the hotel's free amenities, "can you help me with this?"

an olive branch.

you gesture with a single finger, over dried blood that has streaked over your back, your neck. the hollow of your collarbone.

you can see the refusal dancing on his tongue, the hesitation in the way his throat bobs, and how gojo's eyes flicker over you once more.

but he doesn't refuse. gojo just wordlessly steps forward, taking the towel from your outstretched hand. you watch, silently, as he moves to the sink and runs it under cold water. you're sitting on the edge of the counter now so you face him, watching the warm golden glow of the overhead lights in his pale hair.

the porcelain is cold against your thighs as you angle yourself away from the mirror, facing gojo. the towel in his hand drips faintly, and you watch as he hesitates again, just for a fraction of a second before stepping closer.

at first, his movements are slow and careful. he's raising the towel, and his hand is steady as you feel the first touch of the cool fabric against your back. a shiver practically races down your spine, not from the cold, but from the way his arm snakes behind you, brushing against your bare skin.

it's subtle at first, but you notice it. the hitch in his breath, the faint tremour in his movements.

gojo, who is always so infuriatingly composed, is shaken. you hear it in the sorcerer's uneven exhale that he doesn't quite manage to suppress, the way his fingers press the towel just a little too harshly.

the suite is silent now except for the faint drip of water and the rasp of fabric against your skin. you should say something, anything, but the words don’t come. instead, your gaze fixes on him, his profile illuminated by the warm glow of the bathroom light.

gojo's features are always striking, almost ethereal: the ice-white hair that falls messily against his forehead, the long white lashes that frame those sharp, cerulean-blue eyes. there’s something softened by the warm light, as though the harshness of his presence, of a man who stands above heaven and earth, has been dulled just enough to make him seem almost...human again.

but you feel as though your heart must just give way, pounding so hard that it may burst. where the blood that fell from another man's veins had somehow drawn a line to gojo satoru instead.

an hour ago, you had been arched into another, naoki sato, one who had been a dead man walking. an hour ago, his hands were on you, his lips hot and insistent, and his eyes were warm, and now he’s gone. dead. gojo made sure of that. and that was always meant to happen.

the thought should make you furious. it should make you push gojo away, but instead, all you can do is sit there, feeling his hands —gentle now, impossibly careful, on your skin.

it's wrong. it's so deeply, fundamentally wrong, and yet the space another man left feels like it was carved out for gojo satoru all along.

gojo's touch slows as he runs the towel over your skin, tracing the line of your collarbone with a precision that feels almost tender. your eyes slip closed for a moment, the warmth of his hand lingering even as the cold water wipes away the blood.

then he moves again.

it happens fast enough that you barely register it. one second, gojo satoru is standing tall and focused on the task, and the next...he's leaning down. his breath ghosting over the hollow of your neck.

you feel your entire world tilt as his lips press softly against the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, a touch so light that it feels stolen.

but now you've frozen, every breath catching as though the air was snatched from your lungs. every nerve feels as though it's on fire, hyper-aware of how soft the brush of his lips was, the faint scrape of his teeth just shy of your skin.

how gojo's lips were almost reverent, like a prayer offered in silence. how he was worshipping something he couldn't ever have.

but your eyes snap open to meet his.

gojos's cerulean eyes are molten, the usual ice cracked and melting into something deep and desperate and all-consuming. they bore into yours, wild and unguraded, and the pale lashes framing them tremble lighting as though even he's unsure of what he's just done.

but gojo's pupils are also blown wide, and electric. like a storm trapped in glass.

you swallow hard, your pulse thundering in your throat. slowly, cautiously, you dip your head, just enough to give him permission without saying a word.

the look in his eyes shifts — hunger, disbelief, and something darker all tangled together. he presses his lips to your neck again, firmer this time, lingering as though committing the feel of your skin to memory. then again, slightly higher, his breath hot and uneven against you.

"satoru…" the name slips from your lips in a whisper, trembling and unbidden.

the warmth of his tongue catches you off guard, tracing the curve of your neck in a way that sends a jolt through your entire body, heat down to your thighs. it's...unhinged, but the part of you that should push him away is nowhere to be found.

gojo pulls back just enough for you to see the faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes remain dark, intense, and burning with something that feels too big for the room.

"another man got to taste you," he whispers, "now i've tasted him."

you almost laugh, sharp and bitter. the sound lodging in your throat. the absurdity of it all, the jealously lacing his words like a poison vine, the way his breath still fans against your skin.

"that's insane," you manage, your voice shaking. it does little to stop the searing heat curling low in your stomach.

for a second, gojo's breath is still hot against your neck. and then suddenly, his hands are on you.

and fuck, it's not delicate at all. there's a roughness to his touch, desparate and unrestrained, as though something inside him as finally snapped.

his palms trace along your bare shoulders, sliding down to your arms, and then to your waist. his fingers press into your skin with a heat that makes you feel like you're burning from the inside out. you don't even realise when you had opened your mouth slightly, panting as if you're trying to pull more air in.

"gojo," you manage, barely audible, and you're acutely aware of the low tense ache beginning to throb in your groin.

his hands slow for a moment, resting on your sides as if he’s trying to ground himself, or stop himself. and gojo's eyes find yours again, and they’re ablaze.

"can i keep going?"

you wonder just how you've managed to unravel this man, to leave his voice hanging by a thread in the air.

you don’t answer right away, your head swimming with confusion, slick desire, and something dangerously close to surrender. gojo satoru is watching you so intently it’s like he’s searching for every unspoken answer written on your skin.

finally, you shift — subtle, but enough. your knees part slightly, just enough for him to step between your bare thighs.

"what do you want me to do?"

you're aware of the insistent, rhythmic pulsing under your panties. of how every small shift of gojo's body against yours amplifies the soft arousal forming, as your heart pounds faster.

and so you let your fingers hook onto the pale waistband of your underwear, and you watch as his gaze follows your movements.

"i want you to touch me, there. please."

you hear the white-haired man breathe out a thankful, reverent fuck before he's following the path of your own hands, hooking a slender finger into your waistband and pulling your underwear down, and off.

and you're so painfully aware of your own arousal right now, the wet that is pooling beneath you. it feels like a relief, parting your legs so your searing heat meets cool air.

"that's perfect, look at t-that," and you're suddenly whining as gojo's fingertips begin grazing sloppy folds, raking themselves over your fluttering entrance, "she's practically been beggin' for my touch all this time, hah!"

"you - ohh, gojo!" you moan, feeling awfully faint from the rippling warmth making your cunt tighten around him, each pshh! echoing in your burning ears, "y-you wish!"

gojo's laugh is a little crazed, undone as he rolls his fingers in practiced curls, at an inhuman pace. bullying his fingers into your opening, as he rasps, "yeah, i w-wish. 'm wishing for this all the time. you never knew, huh?"

"f-fuck, if i had known it felt like this, would've stuck my fingers in h-her a long time ago," gojo unfurls his fingers that only just separated from your winking pussy, and you can only watch.

equally mesmerised as his slender fingers are coated in strands of your slick, clinging to the curves of his short nails and coating them in a mirror sheen.

"have some c-class, gojo! you've lost your fuckin' mind -"

smack!

the dewy pads of his fingers have come down in a harsh arc, slapping right at your throbbing clit, and the jolt sends such an incredible crack of lightning down your spine that you're bucking your hips back up into his hand, back for more.

"some class? hah, 'm not able to do that now, baby," and you can feel gojo shudder under your touch, as you paw at the linen of his black dress shirt, raking your nails over his pectorals, "not when it f-feels like your pussy is about to, fuck, vacuum my fingers off."

"i swear to god, gojo. never say that corny shit a-again."

but it's hard to convey any sense of righteous fury like this. not when he's back to pushing the tapered ends of his long fingers in and out of your tight heat. each brush from the pads of his fingertips leaves you squealing, tugging at the snowy strands on the back of his head.

but gojo's teeth are sharp as they sink into the damp skin of your neck with an almost reverent press, easily snapping through the delicate flesh.

and you're squealing, shocked at how fucking bold gojo satoru has become, whining at how a sharp hiss pulses through you, and you can feel the warmth of blood beginning to bloom and pool over your collarbone.

"shit, 'm sorry, baby. so sorry. but i'm gonna need to see you l-like this," and suddenly gojo snaps away the pussydrunk babble falling from his candied mouth, and he's pressing a searing kiss to your jaw, and the air becomes hazy with the scent of an insanely expensive cologne, cedar and something...sweet, like cardamom.

still, there's hardly time to dissect that.

not when his thick arm is around your waist, handling you until you're smack bang between his legs, right between dark slacks. and gojo has shifted, so your back is flat against the hard planes of his chest, and your knuckles can only grip at the vanity sink. so your eyes can only see your naked torso twisting in the mirror.

"keep your eyes h-here, sweets. on us."

and god, that's exactly where your eyes are. falling on a tense forearm around your waist, as the other works its fierce way through the clamping, gummy walls of your leaking cunt. and you're shuddering underneath him, feeling each brush of his fingers in you.

"w-we make a pretty sight, don't we, yeah?" and the words are spilling from gojo's lips with a certain smugness, but it's rough around the edges, strained. and you just can't look away from how utterly ruined he looks, from touching you.

you watch the glossed shine of your trickling pussy twinkle in the warm lights, as gojo pushes your thighs open wider. his frame leans over yours, taut and straining. and his lips are flushed and parted, betraying the deep ache of his breath.

"go onnn, say it. c'mon," and now gojo's whining in your ear, letting his hand push further into the mess as your pussy is practically weeping onto his fingertips, "won't let you c-cum if you don't say it."

your chest heaves with each desperate, gulping breath. and you can see gojo's vision narrow on how your tits threaten to spill out from their confines, the swell of your chest rising as you try to draw air through your close orgasmic daze. where the edges of your vision blur, and your heart is pounding erratically, "ahhh, gojo! 'm gonna, i think 'm gonna, oh my god!"

but there's more, you want so much more.

and against better thought, you push and elbow back into gojo's chest, heaving as he flicks his thumb over your aching clit.

"hah, what is it now? fuck was that for?" and the man is scowling at you, seemingly irritated that you drew him away from the hypnotic pull of your pulsing walls.

you swivel, away from the mirror so you're facing him. and your eyes fall on the heavy, pitched tent in gojo's grey slacks, one that must be aching and awfully painful from the way he's running his pink tongue over his bruised mouth.

"wan' more, gojo. on the bed."

you've reached up behind your back, unhooking the clip that was holding your bra together. it falls, and you toss it into the pile where gojo had flung your clingy panties, over your gorgeous dress.

and you think gojo satoru might have just had a minor heart attack.

his expression has shifted, lips parted as he takes in your naked form. you think you hear his breath hitch, as his eyes roam over you, unblinking. you're certain that the mildly brighter light in the room has nothing to do with what's overhead, rather the bright blue of gojo's six eyes.

you snicker at his dumbstruck expression, letting your hand curl around his wrist — marvelling at how he almost whines at the sight of you pushing him out of the bathroom suite, and onto that glorious bed that the two of you had argued over earlier in the day.

"n-not so opposed to sharing a bed with me now, sweets? oh, fuck," you don't let him get any more words out, since you're reaching for the sleek leather belt threading through the loops of his slacks, pawing at them so you can finally undress him. have him as bare as you are now.

something in your desparate touch must have made gojo snap, because now he's shuffling the two of you around, so you're practically splayed out under his warm, large hands. thighs spread, parted so your dripping cunt is displayed to the room, as he scoots closer. his knees pressing against the carpet.

"hnnghh, f-fuck, look at her. practically cryin' on me."

and what a sight. gojo satoru, the most powerful man to walk this earth in centuries is slumped beneath your thighs, close enough to your clit that when he breathes, he knocks his nose right over the sensitive bud, coating his face in that syrupy glaze.

and then its slow, painful. how his long tongue descends onto your weeping pussy, writhing flat in wide, broad strokes that leave you whining out his name.

you spread your legs even wider, fighting against gojo's tight grip on the flesh of your thighs. the thighs that are trembling as he brings his teeth up to graze your clit, and your arousal drips from his lips. making candied pink lips look like they've been glazed and dipped in sugar.

briefly, in the back of your mind, you wonder how you're going to continue to function tomorrow. how you're going to even be able to walk after gojo satoru has rendered you boneless.

you also wonder if there's a cosmic deity out there, looking at an invisible and heavenly camera with a dull look on their face. something like what can you do?

"mmhph, y'know i l-like this a lot better than that drink from earlier," and he's cooing at how you squeal and moan, "hah, what was that s-shit called? a cream soda."

you pull at the white strands of his hair, yanking gojo's head back from where his tongue had been lolling around your clit, ignoring his whine, "if y-you make a stupid, fuckin' joke about creaming, i'm g-gonna leave."

gojo rolls his eyes, but this time? this time, there's no malice in it, no irritation. his expression is almost fond, if not shadowed by the enormity of his own lust, "leaving before the main event is dumb choice, sweets."

"tch! get to i-it then, oh! what the fuck, gojo!"

he's found the right place to prod, to roll his fingers over the hood of your clit, occasionally propping his mouth down to suck at it lightly. your mouth is clamped shut, so you don't release an absurd amount of babble, wordless and airless about how good he's devouring you.

"hah," gojo huffs, pressing three flat fingers against your entrance, letting them curl into your walls, enough to tease you, "i can feel her beating for me. 's pulsing all over."

"c-can't you jus' make me cum?" your hands are desparate for some friction, running past your perked tits, down to his hair again. now clamping your thighs around his head, and the soft, snowy hair of his head tickles at your skin.

"can' believe you're talking shit when i'm e-eating you out," gojo chuckles, but you're just too mesmerised by the glint of your slick lighting a beacon over the lower half of his face, strands of slick as he pulls away from your pussy, "y'not that patient, huh?"

he's practically attached to your clit now, kissing it with a tender and yet firm press of his lips, seemingly aware of just how sensitive you are to that type of pressure.

you whimper and mewl as gojo's head disappeared back between your legs, deeper and lower as his tongue pushes into your pussy, flicking shallow thrusts that makes you breathe out gasps of his name.

"now i think 'm gonna cum, so close, satoru," with your hand firmly lodged in his platinum strands, you're rocking your hips messily, sloppily against his awaiting mouth.

"y-yeah? go on, sweets," he's moaning now too, and you don't miss how the edge of the bed rocks just a bit from him grinding the frame for some release on his own erection.

your orgasm makes your mind foggy, and you practically quake in gojo's large, warm hands. with a sharp cry of his name, followed by an endless chant of praise for the unearthly man between your legs, lapping at you as though you are his last drink, his last meal on this earth before he ascends elsewhere.

the hard streaks of white shoot through your vision, even as you come down from the incredible high, and you realise gojo has not stopped.

gojo's jaw is still locked as your slick dribbles down your folds, into his open mouth and onto his waiting tongue. the extra stimulation makes you deliriously cry out, "fuck, s-satoru! 's too much, holy fuck!"

you were still shaking, and a second orgam blurred your sight into an incredible spectrum of colours, white hot starlight and streaks of blue. that cascade of vivid tints flood your vision, each one jerking your hips and cunt forward until you felt your legs give way.

until gojo finally separated himself from your thighs, satisfied at how he had pulled two climaxes from you.

he's absolutely lost it, lost in that daze of being pussywhipped, and his eyes gleam with a feverish intensity. and when he crashes pink, glossy lips down on your mouth, you can feel him shake under your touch.

you moan, loud, as he nips at your lower lip. at how you can taste yourself on his tongue, syrup strands falling into your mouth as gojo suddenly twitches.

"i think 'm gonna have to be in you right now, otherwise i'll literally fuckin' die."

a breathy laugh falls from your lips as your partner pulls himself up, heavy limbs finally extracting themselves away from your naked body, reaching up to hook his fingers over the black crinkle of his rumpled dress shirt, pulling the fabric off.

leaving your mouth dry.

the moonlight spills over gojo's torso, and you track your eyes over his broad chest, rising and falling and flushed from his own arousal.

you follow the faint dusting of pale white hair as it disappeared past the waistband of his slacks that he's quickly making short work of, and you feel your pussy clench thinking about how badly you need to jump gojo satoru's bones.

but you're too transfixed by him, by the sculpted figure of a supposedly cold and arrogant bastard you've spent months and years rolling your eyes at.

he's real. all hot flesh and blood, and stunning. not that sneering, and infuriating man who's always one step ahead, always one callous word away from making your blood boil.

for a different heat has settled in you now, as your eyes fall on his throbbing cock that has sprung forth, up over his stomach. the tip is an angry, and furious berry-pink and you wonder just how you're going to make these inches fit.

"hah, didn’t think you'd be this shy, you know,” he says, voice a low, husky tease, as if he’s been watching your struggle. gojo's eyes glint with amusement, but there’s something deeper beneath it, something that you hope with lead him to take mercy on you.

"n-no. no," you repeat yourself more firmly, but it's far too breathless to be convincing, "no, 'm not shy."

but it's hard to form coherent thoughts when gojo satoru is towering over you, and his absurdly long and girthy shaft is twitching in between your slick folds.

"fuck you, s-satoru," you're whimpering, feeling the pulsing, rounded head of his flushed tip brush past your sensitive, drooling slit, "taking too long. jus' put it in already."

"mhmm, sweets," and gojo's bustling at your thighs now, pinching the soft and tender skin in retaliation for your touch undoing him so easily, "she can't even be patient, hah, trus' me. just lay back."

you comply, just this once. just because gojo satoru's cock looks so big, you think you need to gather all your thoughts so you'll be able to form coherent sentences later.

resting your head back on plush sheets, with the skyline twinkling in your peripheral vision as gojo's aligning himself with your cunt. he's gasping in low, shuddering breaths as his tip teases and hooks onto your inner walls.

"look at thaaat, oh! baby, fuck, wasn' even joking before, just sucking me up so fuckin' good!"

you don't reply, just mewling as he pushes inch after veiny inch into your dribbling walls, gasping as his large hands rest on the back of your thighs, pushing them further up so he can slot his torso in between your legs.

"oh my god, satoru! s-satoru, hnnhgh, it's too much — i don' think it's gon' fit," you always thought you would be embarrassed to lose composure like this in front of gojo, but you find yourself panting into the crook of his neck, raking nails down his flushed neck.

he's big, and you can feel every vein of his tapered curve hitting the right spots within you, as you shift your hips, desperate to let his sinuous cock kiss every inch of your pussy lovingly.

"gon' dumb already?" gojo's huffing, but you can see that he's not unaffected. his eyes are glazed over, hazy as he slowly draws his hips back just an inch, before scooting them forward already, "jus' gonna have to make this pussy learn from now on. don' worry, sweets. it'll fit."

the 'from now on' makes something in your pounding heart flutter.

but you have little time to focus on it as he bottoms out in your drenched cunt, as though you're hearing the slosh of your pussy coat him entirely, right up to the wiry, white hairs on his groin.

"hahh, there we go! the w-wonders of a positive attitude, don'tcha think?" and you're left with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as he begins to pick up the pace. a steady staccato that has you jostling underneath his ministrations.

you let his mouth chase yours, capturing glossy lips with your own bite, letting him pant, and whine and praise the heavens above for how tight you're snatching him right now.

"she's p-perfect, isn't she? t-thought about it so much, y'got no idea, got no c-clue about how much i thought about you under me like this n' how you'd f-feel!"

gojo satoru is absolutely drunk from a nectar that he has tasted once. the same nectar that coats his cock in frothy, filthy rings as he pistons his hips out of your pussy.

"happy for y-you, satoru," and you're letting your nails scratch over the shell of his ear as he twitches and shudders, "but fuck, y'talk too much! jus' focus on fucking me!"

gojo's mouth quirks upwards, that knowing smirk playing on his lips as he looks at you bemused, and so hazy.

"god, a lot of that attitude now, hahh?" and he's drawling the words out, and you don't miss how he shudders when you clench around his shaft, on purpose. he's leaning in closer, barely brushing past your lips, and you wonder briefly for a split-second, gojo satoru might just really love you.

and then, without warning, his hand comes down to your side, just underneath the fat of your tits, pinching lightly at the abdomen. causing you to take a sharp intake of breath, and a dizzy huff of his name.

if you ever believed that gojo satoru was malicious in the workplace, a bane on your sanity, you had not been prepared for how he was stretching you out in all the right places.

that inhumane pace of the strongest had him snapping his hips sharply, over and over until he's hitting the spongy patch, deep within your walls.

"clamped around me like, ohh, like a fuckin' vice," gojo's grunting now, each breath coming out short puffs that match the timing of the slap! each whack of his cock delivers, pressing your hips together and coating his hips in sweet slick.

"mmph, feels so good, satoru!" you squeal, pressing a hand over your mouth so you don't wake up the entire top floor of the hotel, tits jostling with each shuffle and movement.

it's all coming down on you too quick, that electric haze shooting down your spine. made all the worse by gojo groaning and slipping his hand between his jackhammering hips, down to where your clit is practically throbbing for his touch.

he's running tight circles, before pressing the flat of his thumb under the hood of your clit, ripping a raw cry from the back of your throat, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as gojo's lips are leaving blooming marks over your neck.

"satoru, i t-think 'm gonna c-cum again," you moan, fluttering your lashes against your skin, rolling your hips up into gojo's quick fingers and brutal cock. but it feels different this time, nothing like your past two orgasms. you feel something draw its claws further into your groin, like you're going to burst and the breath will be stolen away from your lungs.

you hear gojo say something, snarky but tender as he laughs into your collarbone, as he's slapping his fingers down quickly over your clit, making you jolt. but you don't hear his words as blood roars in your eears, gushing all over his cock with a clear, sticky sheen that coats him deliciously.

makes gojo satoru groan out filthy praises over your marked skin, "didn' know you were that nasty? hahh, squirtin' over me on your first go, yeah? it's gettin' too much for me too, s-sweets. think 'm gonna hafta maaa -"

you have no inkling as to what gojo was aiming to groan out, fluttering his own blue eyes shut as his orgasm catches up to him, pumping you insanely full of thick, stringy seed. practically painting your inner walls a translucent white as you huff and whine.

but in the back of your mind, you think he wanted to marry you. a bridge you'll cross when you get to it.

"fillin' you up, good, aren't i?" and he's lost in a daze, and you watch as his muscles ripple in the light of the moon, pectorals gleaming as he stuffs you further, as if plugging his seed to stay in you, making you squirm from the delicious stimulation.

you should have paid a little more attention to your surroundings. less attention to the thick veins of his cock drilling a home in you. or less attention to how his lips curl up into a sweeter smile as he presses soft, happy kisses to your cheek while you lay exhausted, caged by his thick arms.

then, you might have noticed the lights flicker and then shatter for half the hotel's rooms.

the morning sun peeks through the curtains like an overenthusiastic alarm clock, dragging you out of sleep with its gentle warmth. you stretch lazily, limbs still heavy and sticky from the weight of...the previous night's activities.

the sheets feel ridiculous soft, kudos to the insanely over-priced hotel. and for a second, you entertain the thought of just staying here. forever.

that is, until your eyes fall on raijin's amulet over on the wooden table.

and the fact that gojo is nowhere to be found.

you blink, squinting at the empty space beside you. your first instinct is to check besides the bed, and then under it, for fear that the six-foot three man has simply fallen off.

but your gaze falls on a tiny pink sticky-note on the nightstand. one that you suspect was pilfered from the scattered case file on the couch. you peer at looping cursive, scrawled in a blue marker.

don't eat anything yet! gone to get a proper breakfast!

you can't help the soft huff that leaves you, fond in its escape. you feel this sudden urge to don some proper clothes, to go down and join him in the warm sunlight.

but then you pause. perhaps, you ought not to. it would be fun to let him miss you just a bit. the thought of the gojo satoru standing there, waiting in line for entirely average pancakes is amusement enough for you.

but before you can pull the crisp sheets over your head, your eyes catch a glimpse of something else by the bed. a small, satin-blue box that didn't exist yesterday, in the world of cruel choices and...semi-successful missions.

the memory of yesterday pulls a frown from you, but you shake your head, determined to clear your thoughts.

you reach for it, letting your fingers run over the smooth surface, before tugging at the silver ribbon cautiously. half-expecting to find something weird like gojo's usual idea of a joke like a half-naked framed photo of him with a lipstick print.

ah!

but instead, inside the box lies a thin necklace. you've stared longingly enough at shop windows to know that these are real diamonds. not the cheap kind either, a well-cut carat that makes you gasp to yourself, a flush running over your cheeks.

for a moment, he said nothing, and the silence stretched unbearably heavy. but then gojo’s ice-gaze dropped to the necklace scattered over your throat, and he tilted his head, "not too bad," a flicker of a scoff curling at his lips. "tch, they’re not even real," you blurted, then immediately regretted it, what was wrong with you today? you reached up, fingers grazing the cool crystals as if to shield them from his bemused scrutiny, "just thought i needed something to fit in."

you pick it up, feeling the cold weight of it in your hand. what is this, romance? a necklace? gojo satoru doesn’t even do romance. at least, not in the way anyone would expect.

he’s the kind of guy who would absolutely get you diamonds just to throw you off balance. mission accomplished.

you glance at the sticky note again, then back at the necklace. this is way too much for your sleep-addled brain. and yet, there’s this funny little thing inside you, a warm spark that you don’t know what to do with.

fuck, when did he even have the time to get this gorgeous gift?

you’re definitely not soft, but gojo does this thing to you — he has a way of turning your whole world upside down, and now…apparently, he’s gone and done it again.

your cheeks warm, but you don't admit to it. not yet. but there's no denying the softer spot that's growing in you, the urge to have gojo satoru in your arms in this very moment so you can run your hands through soft, white hair to watch him purr. to see his cheeks flush from a sweet blush as his blue eyes flutter shut.

your eyes fall on his crumpled uniform jacket from yesterday, his discarded clothes. perhaps, you could just join him. after all, you feel words threatening to spill from your mouth and you want him to hear them.

a surprise of your own? you think you want to see gojo satoru speechless for once.

do not plagiarise or repost! likes and reblogs appreciated. btw, this jenny packham was the dress i envisioned for reader but imagine whatever you like!

[idolomantises]

I haven't drawn Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss redesigns since last year and the fandom still regularly tags me/picks fights with me over them. I did not think a couple drawings would live in people's heads so rent free.

Like you can go find my redesigns on twitter, they're still very public. I just label them as "Angel Dust redesign" or "Alastor redesign". The only time I think I explicitly called a design bad was when I said I found Beelzebub's design atrocious. Which it is. It's an overdesigned mess that doesn't convey the sin at all, I'm allowed to say I don't like it. And even still, when I posted the art, I still labeled it as "Beelzebub redesign".

I'm not going to forget when you fans regularly stalked my account and PATREON just to figure out when I would upload the redesigns. You think I forgot about when I posted my Angel Dust redesign which was just meant to improve my old design and you people harassed me for days? You accused me of "baiting" fans because you are so self-obsessed you think everything I do is explicitly to upset you. You people misgendered me, told me to kill myself, called me a fucking cockroach and flat out threatened to assault me multiple times. Sure I was harsh about my critiques, but I didn't resort to homophobic and transphobic comments like you people did with my Angel Dust redesign because for some unexplained reason you diehard fans who have been following this project for 10 years didn't know that he's meant to be a drag queen. When I did a quick redesign of Katie Killjoy on my personal tumblr, guess what? You people flipped the fuck out, AGAIN.

I can't even talk about my own religion without you sad, paranoid losers thinking I'm trashtalking hazbin hotel. You made up some rumor that I block all Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss fans (despite being mutuals/friends with people who are fans of the shows or actually work on them) just so you could justify harassing me even more. You told me for years that I should wait until the Hazbin series dropped to get my full thoughts out and when it did you people still freaked out and berated me.

Even when I talked about my situation after posting my Angel Dust redesign, instead of apologizing, fans claimed I planned this hostile reaction to begin with to make the fandom look bad. That I was "pulling a transphobia card" for sympathy. I didn't do shit. You people have gotten more aggressive about your hate towards me because people finally saw how incredibly inappropriate and vile you people act over a midtier cartoon written by someone who has so many allegations of bullying, transphobia, racism and workplace abuse that it's become harder and harder for you to deny, so you take out your unrepressed anger on me.

I know the only reason you people target me is because I'm a big artist who doesn't kiss Viv's ass. You want me to be a diehard fan of hers like every other big artist you people bully into worshipping Viv and her show and I won't do it. So you just obsessively stalk and monitor my account and accuse every little thing I do as a spiteful attack so you can justify your little harassment campaigns again. It's pathetic.

Seek help, find a hobby, stop obsessing over people who don't like the same thing as you. It's getting sad.

[sungbites]

MISCONCEPTIONS ━ lee jeno

pairing : jeno x fem!reader genre : angst, fluff, est. relationship (sort of relationship), suggestive elements warnings : drinking/being drunk, profanity, inaccurate representation of art students, kissing, they're both toxic #sozz synopsis : your relationship with jeno was always complicated, never knowing where you stand with him. but what happens when things are left unsaid between the both of you and words are left to become mere misconceptions. wc : 10k a/n : god i've been working on this for over a month and finally its completed 🥹, i wanna thank @yutarot my beloved for helping me finish this and giving me the motivation, ily my nayu 🫶

Words were futile devices, there was no point in conveying them as you wanted because actions spoke louder. In words there were misconceptions tied in them, causing a whirlwind of miscommunication between two people. 

Lee Jeno did not pride himself on not knowing you, but rather the opposite. He hates himself for not knowing you enough. Past just every curve of your body and into every curve of your soul, when you pushed or pulled towards him, when you wanted him and when you didn’t. Like now. 

He was so jealous. He had been watching you, like a creep, all night. You knew, his friends knew, your friends knew, hell even the guy shamelessly flirting with you probably knew. It didn't matter because Jeno was annoyed, who did he think he was coming to his friends party and flirting with you. It was eating him alive, and you knew that as well. But you didn’t pay any mind to it because you knew at the end of the day he wasn’t gonna do anything, or was he?

You shifted your gaze back to the man who stood in front of you, Mark Lee was his name. From what he had blabbed to you within five minutes you knew that was from Canada, his best friend's name was Donghyuck, and he had a really cool sledding story. “So like I said he literally rammed into our sled!” Mark continued, animating the sled crash with his empty cup and hands. You gasped, trying to seem like you were paying attention the whole time. “Yeah so, we were like, what’s your deal man? But he told us he lost control of the sled so I guess it’s all chill” He finished, making you laugh softly. “I mean I’m glad! That sounds like a good time though.” you said, smiling up at him.

You knew he was just telling you stories about himself to keep talking to you, but you didn't mind at all. He was a cutie and besides you needed to distract yourself from Jeno who was all over you one second, and the next he couldn’t care less about you. You knew you deserved better and maybe that was Mark. Or maybe it wasn’t, sometimes you couldn’t tell what was good for you and what wasn’t, Jeno being a clear example. Mark smiled down at you, taking a sip of his drink, “You know, you could come with. We’re going next month” you smiled, raising your eyebrow slightly at his offer. 

“That’s a kind gesture but I don’t know how to sled” you said, taking a sip of your own drink but scrunching your nose as the taste. It was some sort of weird combination that Chenle made, always something with him. Mark nodded, thinking to himself for a couple seconds. “Doesn’t matter” He said, making you furrow your brows, “and why’s that Mark? Do tell” you replied, smiling softly as he smiled back at you. The vibe between you two was flirty, you knew he was flirting the second he approached you because in all honesty, he wasn’t very good at hiding it. “I can just teach you, babe,” he finally said, a smile on his face. Your cheeks flushed softly, feeling your smile grow, “You’re too kind Mark seriously you don’t need to” you finally said making Mark smile more. 

Just before he spoke, a voice spoke up from behind you. “No man, really you are” in an instant you knew the voice, and his tone, always so icy. Jeno didn’t often talk to people like that, he was pretty reserved, but when he was angry he got livid, which he was right now. You turned to see him, standing right next to you and across from Mark, smiling smugly at him. “You know thanks for keeping my girl company while I was getting us drinks, appreciate it.” He smiled at Mark a little bit too fakely, the whole interaction causing the boy across from you to stutter out apologies. “God sorry man- I uh- didn’t know she was your girlfriend.” He smiled awkwardly at Jeno then you, making you frown softly. He had no reason to apologize, Jeno only wanted to acknowledge you when it was convenient for him. “Sorry again, I’ll leave you two alone” He said rather quickly, stumbling on his words as he scurried off to his friends. 

“What the fuck Jeno?” You turned to him, now even more angry at him than you were before. Before this party, Jeno had told you to keep your distance, something about the fact his friends could never know what was going on between you two, like he was ashamed of you. The two of you have had this argument multiple times since starting your ‘arrangement’ Jeno claims it would be a big deal but you knew that it didn’t matter to any of his stupid friends. Yet despite all of the shit he gave you, here he was, acting like he was your boyfriend because he got a little bit insecure. “C’mon babe,” He said in the same tone Mark did, mocking him. “Don't cause a scene” He muttered, smiling down at you, making you roll your eyes in response. 

“Fuck off.” you mumbled, not sure if it was the alcohol speaking but nonetheless you grabbed the drink from his hand and walked past him, leading the way to the backyard where you could be alone and in peace. Jeno watched you leave then scoffed and shook his head, following you outside. “Yn! C’mon don’t be like this!” He yelled out as you walked further and further away from the house, and him. He followed you until you were at the back fence of the backyard and had no choice but to face him. You clenched your fists and turned around to face him.

As always, he had that puppy dog look on his face. The one where he seemed apologetic and that he loved you but you could see right through his facade. After all, the two of you had this fling going on for three months now, so you weren't going to fall for his manipulative tricks this time, “Why’d you do that Jeno” you knew the answer, you just wanted to hear him come up with a bullshit excuse, he was always good at that. 

He sighed out, running his hand through his hair, to anyone else it would look like you fucked up and he was just a bystander. “Just looking out for you baby, like I always do.” He smiled softly, walking closer to you to try and break the gap, instead you backed away. He noticed this and stopped, furrowing his brows, “Yn I care about you, don’t do that” he mumbled, his lips in a soft frown now. You looked in his eyes, trying to break through and see if he was lying or not but he had always shut himself out to you, always. 

You pressed your lips together in a thin line, then sighed, you could feel yourself giving into him. He always had a way of speaking to you, it was weird. He never said what he meant, especially with his feelings, and you could never tell how much of that was true. He lied to you, about how he felt, about missing ‘dates’, and everything in between. It was hard staying with Jeno because you knew it wasn't good for you, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to just leave. 

“Yeah I know, I just don't know, you have a weird way of showing it Jen” you breathed out, looking down at the grass, unable to hold eye contact with him. Jeno sighed softly and walked closer to you slowly, as if testing the waters. Once he noticed you weren’t backing away he walked close enough so you and him were just an arms length apart. He reached out, holding your chin softly, forcing you to look up at him. He locked eyes with you and only smiled softly. 

“I know baby, but it's always you for me.” His words made you smile, but they meant nothing. You knew that, so why did your heart skip a beat when he said that? Why did you suddenly feel a chance for hope, for you and Jeno? Jeno could read you like a book because he must've sensed that your mind was racing. He shook his head, “Quit doing that, drifting off in thought. Just focus on me” he said, halting your thoughts for just a moment. 

Now, he was close enough to where you could feel his cool breath against your nose, lips just centimeters apart. You could see him locking down at your lips and before he could lean in to kiss you, you put your hand on his chest. “What is it?” he said, this time sounding a bit more passive aggressive rather than the gentle tone he was using earlier. “You’re not my boyfriend Jen” you mumbled, making him look at your lips. “And you're not my girlfriend,” he said without missing a beat, “has that ever stopped us?” he looked into your eyes, eyebrow slightly raised. 

He was right, that didn't ever stop the both of you. Neither of you stopped to think about the fact that you weren't in a relationship. Maybe you even preferred it that way, you knew Jeno sure as hell did. He loved having you without all the unnecessary hassles that he would have to deal with because he was your boyfriend. 

You shook your head, making him smile softly. He leaned in again to kiss you, this time you let him. You let the familiar taste of his lips take over your own. It was intoxicating how much he drew you in, pulling you away from your own consciousness. He tilted his head slightly, kissing you at a different angle now. He pulled back, Jeno was always the first to pull back. 

He smiled down at you and backed away, “come over tonight?” He mumbled, you nodded in response. You felt him lean down to kiss your cheek before he headed back inside the house. You watched as he started talking to his friends like normal, not even caring that you were still outside, cold. Weirdly enough none of Jenos kisses made you feel warm, but maybe that’s just how things were meant to be. 

You sat on the couch, refreshing your text conversation with Jeno, your purse in your other hand. The two of you were supposed to go out tonight, as promised. You were stupid to believe Jenos empty promises after all this time. “Let me guess, he stood you up again?” Yerim said, shutting her bedroom door behind her. You looked to her and sighed, shutting your phone and putting it face down. 

You and Yerim had been roommates for around a year, the two of you started getting closer around the time you and Jeno started your ‘arrangement’ and since then you’ve confided in her since you can’t tell anyone else, sworn to secrecy thanks to Jeno. “I don’t even know why I believed him,” you watched as Yerim sat next to you on the couch, sinking into it. “You say this everytime,” she sighed.

She glanced at you, almost feeling sorry for you. Of course she felt sorry for you, it was hard being with someone who gave you everything yet nothing at the very same time. Yet she could never figure out what made you stay, was it the sex? Or was it the idea of someone loving you? Was it even love? You looked her way, already sensing what she was going to say. Instead of saying her thoughts, Yerim held your head and rested it on her shoulder, patting your head gently. Her hand pushed some of your hair out of your way, still patting you gently. The two of you sat like that for a good half hour before the two of you started getting up to go to your own respective rooms.

As you got up Yerim looked at you, “Yn?” she mumbled, making you turn around to face her. She hesitated before speaking, “you deserve better than that” Yerim said, smiling softly at you. You smiled back and nodded, letting her pat your shoulder as she departed to her room. You stood in the living room for a couple minutes, staring at the wall. 

You deserve way better.

But you weren’t going to let yourself have that. Why did you love Jeno so deeply and desperately when he couldn't care less? All you were to him was his toy to play with when he wanted and dispose of you when he was bored. Yet you always ran back, why? Was it his soft kisses? Or was it the way he held you in his arms? Maybe it was the way he looks at you when you’re both alone? Or is that just you looking at him? Has he ever spared you a glance? Will he ever spare you a glance? 

Your phone buzzed on the couch. You looked down, groaning as you realize you’re still wearing the same clothes you were supposed to go out in. You picked up your phone, seeing a text you had seen several times before. 

jen [11:57 p.m.] : outside your place babe :) 

The next thing you knew you were outside, walking with Jeno side by side in a park near your apartment. According to him, he was busy with something and as per usual you didn’t question it. Maybe you were scared that if you asked him too many questions he would leave you because you were too much work. Maybe he was just with you for the convenience of it all, intertwining friend groups, same school, not too far apart. 

Your hands were intertwined as you walked, Jeno broke the silence first. “Saw your sculpture in the workshop, it looks good,” he said, looking ahead at the path in front of you two. So that meant he was actually busy, you thought. “Thanks, I didn’t think you noticed,” you replied, looking down at the ground the two of you walked on together, your feet in perfect sync. Jeno shifted his gaze to look at you, smiling. “I notice everything,” making you look up at him, smiling as well. 

This was why things were so confusing. Jeno would act like he cared about you and cherished you but he never wanted to date you, and he certainly never did this infront of others. It seemed as though your relationship was covered in a fog of mystery even to you, ironic isn't it? Not even knowing what kind of relationship you were in. 

“It’s getting late Jen,” you finally said, making his smile raise a little. “We could head back to mine? Get some sleep?” He looked at you, still smiling. Of course, what else would you do other than agree? 

You stared at the sculpture sitting right in front of you, the look it was giving you seemed judgemental. As if it was judging you for being at the workshop at lunchtime while everyone else was taking their well deserved breaks. You sighed, carving away at the sculpture. You didn’t even know what you were trying to make but you knew you wanted it to be good for your final presentation.

It determined whether or not you can go to an art school and you weren’t going to let any distractions get in your way, not even Jeno. You didn’t believe in yourself though, in terms of the sculpture and the distractions.

You heard the door to the workshop open and close, soft footsteps grew closer to where you were sitting, then suddenly they stopped. This caused you to look up from your sculpture to see Mark, standing 6 feet away from you. “Oh I.. did you tell me you went here?” He stuttered, trying to get his words out. You smiled softly and nodded, making him frown softly. “Sorry, I got pretty wasted that night,” he said, walking over to sit on the table right in front of you. 

“It’s alright,” you replied, still smiling softly. Mark watched you as you went back to sculpting diligently, he smiled at you. “So does your boyfriend go here?” he broke the silence, not stuttering anymore. You looked at him and furrowed your brows, then it hit you. “Me and Jeno aren’t dating he just.. does that for some reason,” you shook your head slightly and now Mark's interest was piqued.

“So you’re single?” he asked once more, making you smile now. “Yes Mark, I am,” you said again, looking at him. He jumped off the table and leaned over your table. “So are you single enough to go for coffee? Maybe this weekend?” he seemed more confident than before, it was working because you were swayed to say yes. 

“I’ll get back to you on that,” you said, making him smile now. “How will you get back to me if you don’t have my number?” he pulled out his phone all too confidently and slid it your way. “You’re smooth you know that?” you said, picking it up and putting in your number, giving it back to him. 

He smiled down at his phone then looked at you. “We could get lunch now if you want,” just before you could respond, a bag was placed on the table catching both yours and Mark's attention. “Hi, am I interrupting something?” Jeno said, looking between you and Mark. Mark leaned back and looked at Jeno. “Nah, just dropped by to say hi to Yn,” he said, picking up his bag then looking at you. “I’ll text you?” making you nod, waving goodbye as he left. 

You saw Mark shut the door then looked to Jeno who sat down next to you at the table, silently opening the bag of food. “What are you doing here Jen,” you sighed, putting down the sculpting tool. “I think a question that’s more important is why are you skipping lunch,” he said, taking out a takeout box of food then placing it in front of you. You looked at the box then at him, he had already begun eating from his box of food. You sighed, reaching in the bag to grab utensils and began eating. The two of you ate in silence, just the sound of the wind blowing from outside could be heard. 

You weren’t sure why Jeno did things like this, acting sweet. It left the impression that he really did care for you and he wasn’t just lying, that made things so much more confusing than they already were. For some reason, even after seeing Jeno for so long, you couldn’t tell the difference between if he actually meant it or if he was just toying with you and as per usual, this time wasn't any different.

You put down your fork, pushing the food away slightly and going back to your carving, not sparing Jeno a glance. But that didn’t go unnoticed, Jeno set his fork down as well and looked at you with furrowed brows. “Just eat baby,” he said, still watching you. You wanted to roll your eyes but chose not to. “I can always eat when I get home, so if this is all you came to do then you can leave,” you replied, focusing on the shape you were making with the clay, but your focus was wavering. 

Jeno scoffed, clearly annoyed now. “Are you mad at me? What’d I even do,” you ignored him, continuing to mold the clay into the shape you wanted, which you weren’t even sure what you wanted. Jeno watched as you continued to sculpt, not saying anything to him. He nodded and sucked his teeth, continuing to eat his food. You glanced at him a couple times but he was too busy on his phone to even notice you looking his way. 

You weren’t even sure why you were upset. No you knew, you just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Jeno wasn’t normally a protective person but for some reason when it came to Mark he couldn’t help himself. Maybe he knew that Mark was a good guy, nothing like him. That Mark would treat you better than he ever could or maybe they’re just one in the same you’re doomed no matter what. 

“Can you pass me the tool to the right of you?” you said, breaking the silence. Jeno glanced at you and handed you the tool you wanted. “So now you're speaking to me?” he crossed his arms, looking at you fully. “Stop being like that Jen,” you muttered, trying to fix the lines with your thumb, smoothing out the base of the heart. “You’re the one who kept ignoring me,” he scoffed, watching as you carved away. He always liked you when you concentrated on something, told you you looked pretty.

He reached over, his hand pushing away some stray hairs from your face, hairs that were covering your eyesight. You looked at him and for some reason your heart softened, why’d it always do that with him. “I was just looking out for you pretty,” he said, still looking in your eyes, You nodded, sighing softly. “Yeah, I guess I’m just stressed,” you cleared your throat, looking back at the base of the heart. The idea you had wasn’t executing perfectly but that wasn’t why you were annoyed with Jeno. 

You were annoyed with the hold he had over you. That even if he acted sweet now and pushed you away later you would still run back to him like a lovesick puppy. Weirdly enough there wasn’t any love there and if there was you would never admit it for your own sake. 

“Tell me what you’re making,” Jeno looked at you, propping his head up with his hand that was on the table. “It’s supposed to be a heart, and I don’t know where to go from there,” you turned fully to him, sighing. He smiled softly, admiring you. “You’ll figure it out baby, everything you make is pretty,” he said, smiling as he spoke. 

You smiled softly and shook your head, turning your body back around to clean up your area. “Yeah okay,” you scoffed softly, putting away the tools and packaging the leftover clay. “It’s true,” Jeno furrowed his brows, helping you clean up by picking up your empty food containers and throwing them out. “Sweet talking me won’t do much Jen,” You laughed softly, walking over to the fridge to put the clay in. 

Jeno leaned against the table, watching as you walked back over to it. Just before you could walk past him, he held your wrist, pulling you into him. “Jeno c’mon,” you scoffed, trying to tug your wrist out of his hold but he only smiled. “Sweet talking won’t work so what if I kiss you, will you still be mad pretty?” he mumbled, pushing some stray hairs away. “No, I won’t,” you breathed out, making him smile again. 

He leaned in, kissing your lips ever so gently. His hand moved to your waist, holding you tight and close to him. This time, your kiss was soft and gentle, unlike your usual kisses which we almost rushed. You felt him smile against your lips, making you smile as well. You could feel why he was doing this, to keep you. You knew deep down the way his hands moved up and down your waist that he was almost holding you so close so he didn’t lose you, specifically to Mark. This made you feel validated in some weird way, that he could regret losing you. Maybe you’re more important to him than you thought. 

You pulled back, opening your eyes to see him smiling at you. “Still mad?” he muttered, you shaking your head and stepping back. His eyes followed your body as you went to grab your bag, walking back over to him to grab his hand. “So? What now?” you said, the two of you walking hand in hand out of the workshop. 

Jeno thought for a couple minutes, gripping your hand softly as you two walked out of the building. The sun was setting now which meant that the only people left on campus would be the ones who were in different buildings. Which was good for Jeno because you were away from anyone who could possibly know either of you. “We could grab dinner, haven’t been out with you in so long baby,” he looked at you and you raised your eyebrow. “Well whose fault is that?” you questioned, tilting your head, making him laugh and roll his eyes playfully. “Lead the way,” you said, making him smile and grip your hand tighter as you two made your way to his car. 

There was a side to Jeno not many people knew, this was one of them. The soft light from his bedside lamp lit up the room with a soft yellow glow. You laid in his bed, in his shirt, watching him as he sat on the floor, cutting glass. From what he had told you, which as per usual was very little, he was making a glass stained piece for a project and right now he had to cut the glass into the shapes he wanted so he could weld them later.

This side of Jeno was soft and domestic, but this side never left the very four walls of his apartment. It almost felt as if it was reserved only to you, that made you feel good. Good that something about him was a secret only for you to know, that only you got the privilege to see him like this. You moved over to where he was leaning against the bed and began playing with his hair, scratching his scalp softly with his nails. 

“What are you doing pretty? Told you not to get out of bed in case there’s shards,” he mumbled, a soft smile could be heard in his voice. “Not going anywhere, just wanted to check on you,” you said, playing with his hair. He smiled, looking up at you. “Getting bored?” he said, looking in your eyes and you shook your head, Jeno set down the glass and turned around so he could face you properly. 

He looked in your eyes, taking in your facial features. For some reason it felt like he was seeing you for the first time, you smiled softly under his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that,” you mumbled, making Jeno smile some more. “Just admiring my pretty baby,” he muttered, making you smile softly. You brushed some strays out of his way and kissed his cheek, then leaned back to lay in bed. He gave you one last look before turning around and going back to cutting the glass, you turned over in his bed. There’s this saying, that once you’re in someone's bedroom there's a chance you can take a glance in their mind. For some reason that wasn’t the case with Jeno’s room.

You had been here a million times but yet you were as close to him as you would be to an acquaintance. The two of you knew each other but sometimes it felt like you were just two distant strangers. Maybe that was why you felt so okay to let him in in some way, he didn’t know you. All you knew about each other at first was the two of you didn’t need something committed and that was it. 

At first your relationship was just sex, the two of you just wanted a casual hookup. But within the past month it’s turned into something more, maybe that was what you just made up yourself to think. Instead of Jeno calling you up for a quick fuck, the two of you would sit in his apartment with takeout watching some movie, or just spent your weekends with one another. Maybe the reason why you had grown so comfortable with Jeno is because he in fact didn’t know you, that is until you let him in. 

You break out of your thoughts and focus again on Jenos room, a place you had seen countless times. Everything in his room was mostly dull, the color scheme of it all. It looks like a normal guys room but at the same time it doesn't. Your eyes fall on his desk, where his monitor is set up as well as a small section of polaroids. They were of him and his friends, Jaemin and Renjun.

You had met Jaemin and Renjun on separate occasions, not attached with Jeno. Jaemin was this guy that your friend, Chenle, knew and Renjun worked at the school's information desk with Yerim. They were both sweet and reserved, their personalities aligning with Jenos. Jeno had met some of your friends as well, of course not attached to you. Even if your and Jenos relationship had changed, one thing remained clear. No one knew about the two of you. 

It was something Jeno established the first night, it bothered you. Even when you weren’t close with him, something about it rubbed you the wrong way. What was so wrong with his friends knowing he was with you? Was he ashamed of you? Were you too embarrassing to even be seen with him? DId he not value you?  

“What’s going on in your head baby?” you jumped, feeling Jenos arm snake around your waist. You turned to face him, not even realizing the whole time you were thinking he had already cleaned up. “Nothing,” you mumbled, making him smile. “Liar.” He breathed out, still smiling. 

He leaned in to pepper soft kisses on your collarbone, you giggled softly, pushing him away by putting your hand on his chest. “Oh?” he teased, looking at you. “You wanna push me away hm?” he smiled, hands reaching up your waist. “C’mon Jen don’t- stop!” you burst out in giggles as he started tickling you. 

After being with you for so long, Jeno began to uncover parts of you he wouldn’t have before. Like the spots where you were the most ticklish. You started laughing louder, tears welling in your eyes. Jeno began to giggle with you, your leg was over his hip so you did the most rational thing and grabbed his wrists, flipping the two of you over so you were straddling him now. 

Your faces were flushed and the two of you were out of breath. Jeno smiled up at you, “c’mon let my wrists go babe,“ Jeno mumbled, making your cheeks turn pink as you let his wrists go, unsure where to put your hands now. Jeno shifted to sit up against the headboard, his hands resting at the curve of your hips. He kept eye contact with you, still straddling him. “Quit looking at me,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands. Your hands felt cold against your face which was now red and burning up from embarrassment. 

You didn’t even know what you could’ve been nervous about, it was Jeno, the same guy who's seen you naked on multiple occasions. Jeno only smiled, reaching to take your hands off your face. “You’re so shy now, what about earlier?” he smiled, making your cheeks turn pink as you groaned and hid your face in the crook of his neck. Jeno laughed softly, holding your waist.

The two of you sat like that for a couple minutes, Jenos thumb drawing small circles on your back. You picked your head up to look at him once more, he smiled, reaching to push some hair away from your face. There was this look Jeno always had before kissing you. It was hard to pinpoint if it was love or lust but either way he gave you a look, then looked at your lips, then back at your eyes. Jeno leaned in, locking your lips with his. As the two of you kissed, you felt his hands moving up and down your waist, one of them reaching up to get lost in your hair. 

He tilted his head slightly, your hands going up from his chest to his neck, playing with the hair that prickled your fingers. He laid you down on the bed, moving down to your neck. He continued to pepper soft kisses on your neck, making you smile. He moved back up to your face and kissed your face all over, making you giggle as the two of you entangled your limbs in sheets that smelled of him. 

You sketched away in your notebook, trying to create a good basis for your final project. If you weren’t stressed out about it before you sure as hell were now because your instructor told everyone the deadline now had no exceptions, it was to be presented in the school art show in two weeks. That meant you had two weeks to create a masterpiece from just a block of clay in order to get into a graduate art program. 

“Give me the lighter, c’mon!” Hyunjin shrieked, jumping up to grab the lighter from Chenle who kept reaching his hand up so she couldn’t grab it. You looked up from your sketchbook to see them jumping around on the rooftop, next to you Heejin sat, scrolling through some dating app. “Ugh fine!” Chenle groaned, passing the lighter to Hyunjin who only smiled and lit her cigarette. 

This was the norm for you, sitting on the rooftop of the art building with your friends. You had met Heejin and Hyunjin during your freshman year, Hyunjin was friends with Chenle and he became the group's single male friend. You had begun getting closer to Yerim because she was your roommate freshman year and that made up your small circle of friends. You had talked to other mutual friends here and there but never like you did with these four. 

Heejin put her phone down, sighing loudly so someone could hear her. You glanced at her and smiled softly. “Spit it out,” you said, still not looking up from your sketchbook. “Someone set me up with a guy!” she groaned, making Chenle burst out laughing. “Who would even date you?” he laughed even more, making Hyunjin kick his leg. “I thought you were talking to that one dude?” you furrowed your brows, now looking up to look at her.

“Him?” she questioned, a certain disgust could be heard in her voice. You nodded and she shook her head profusely. “He was so annoying god, no I need a pretty boy,” she said, as if trying to convince you guys to find someone for her. “What about that one guy, Jaemin? He hangs around Yerims friend,” Hyunjin said, blowing the smoke into the air and taking another puff of her cigarette.

Chenle furrowed his brows, “I mean.. Ugh can’t believe I’m saying this but I could try and get you an in,” he groaned out, regretting even thinking the words that came out of his mouth. You smiled softly, then glanced back at Heejin who beamed. “Really? Oh my god I knew it was worth keeping you around, thank you,” she smiled, blowing a kiss in his direction and he gagged. You shook your head and laughed, looking down at your sketchbook once more. 

“We all need to get coupled up, I mean it’s too much to be single as seniors you know!” Hyunjin groaned and Chenle furrowed his brows once more. He looked at you and a small smile grew on his face. “I think Yn here has got herself a little fling,” he said, making you pick up your head once more. “No I-” “Oh my god and you didn’t tell us? Sly sly girl!” Heejin laughed, slapping your forearm. “I don’t!” you replied, feeling antsy about what Chenle had said. 

Did he know? You knew he hung out around Jeno and some of his friends sometimes so was it possible you slipped up? Maybe he saw the two of you at that party from a month ago, or maybe he was just good with his intuition. It made you nervous, scared actually. You were worried that if Chenle knew and Jeno also happened to know then he’d just leave you, with no hesitation. 

“Oh come on, you’re always sneaking off and texting someone. Maybe you have a pretty boy of your own!” He teased, laughing as he ended his sentence. You gave him a look which then made Hyunjin join in on the teasing. “You know he has a point, who’s the lucky guy Yn!” she teased, now all of them were just making fun of you. You sucked on your teeth as you stood up, picking up your bag and shoving your sketchbook in it. 

“You know I’m not seeing anyone but please go ahead and make fun of me for all I care!” you replied, trying to level yourself by breathing in and out. “Yn it was a joke c’mon,” Chenle said, laughing nervously. “Yeah well I didn’t laugh!” your tone harsher now as you turned around to give them one last look then headed for the door. 

The door slammed behind you as you rushed down the stairs, face flushed. You weren’t sure why you were so mad, they were just joking you knew that and they knew that. So why were you pissed? Was it because you had to keep such a big secret from your friends, the ones you told everything? That you couldn’t even tell them how this part of your love life was eating you alive every second. Was it even a love life if there was only lust?

At first when you and Jeno were just having casual sex it didn’t matter because it never went past that. But then he started getting into your head and now you were here, running away from your best friends. You reached the end of the stairs, exiting the art building to find Jeno, Renjun, and Yerim walking in. 

“Yn! Me and Renjun just got off work, I was gonna come get you,” you glanced at Jeno then looked at Yerim. “Yeah uh.. Can we go? Sorry I’m just tired,” you breathed out and Yerim furrowed her brows. “Yeah of course,” she said, then glanced at Renjun and Jeno. “Thanks for walking us back Jeno and I’ll see you tomorrow Jun,” she smiled at both of them and you only looked down, feeling Jenos eyes on you. 

“Yeah of course, you guys get home safe!” Renjun said, then waving bye as they both entered the building, leaving you and Yerim on the steps to the entrance. She glanced at you as the two of you began walking. She knew something was wrong and you knew that she knew as well, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

Yerim didn’t take pride in it but she knew you like the back of her hand, more than you might know yourself. After living with someone for 4 years you begin to uncover their ins and outs. She knew you didn’t want to talk about it so instead the two of you walked home in a comforting silence, exactly how you liked it. 

Pottery was like relationships. It was difficult to build a good stable base on a piece, an unstable base would throw the entire piece off and eventually lead to the end. A small crack could turn into everything falling apart as the crack got bigger and bigger. As the crack gets bigger, the base begins to break leaving the entire thing a whole mess. That’s how Jeno perceived relationships. 

There were past mistakes at play with these thoughts as well, he felt as though no one really knew him no matter how much they tried to. This thought led to his own demise as he continued to date around and waste his time on girls he knew only wanted him for his looks, not who he was. But who was he? Lee Jeno didn’t know that himself. He knew that the person he was now was not the person he wanted to be. 

This is what he found himself thinking as he watched you from across the crowded house, led lights flashing all kinds of colors in the dark room. He took a sip of his beer to get rid of the familiar lump in his throat, what was he doing? With you, here at this party, with his life? Jaemin glanced at him then where you were standing talking to Chenle. “You got a crush, or you jealous?” Jaemins voice broke him out of his own thoughts as he glanced over at him, clearing his throat. “No no I think I just zoned out in that direction.” Jeno mumbled, swishing his beer around. 

“I mean, Chenle said something about Yn being with someone, think that one is off limits for you man” jaemin snickered, taking a sip of his own drink. Jeno looked up to look at him then glanced in your direction, “yeah, you’re right” Jeno mumbled back, looking down at the floor now. You were off limits, in every way possible. There were lines that Jeno wouldn’t allow himself to cross with you, certain feelings he couldn’t let himself feel. All because he was scared of that all too familiar crack. 

“Donghyuck’s setting up a game of pool with him and his friend, you down to join?” Jaemin spoke once more, leaning off against the wall and throwing his empty cup in the trash. Jeno glanced at him then you, pushing himself off the wall. “Lead the way” he mumbled, following Jaemin through the overly crowded house. Both of them made their way up the stairs, Jeno glancing around over the railing. 

He didn’t even like parties. Nothing about him actually liked being around a large group of drunk 20 year olds every night. Yet he still found himself going as an escape, from his own mind. The more he let his thoughts consume him the more he found himself back at that same place. The cracks. He couldn’t find it in himself to ever commit to something, especially not relationships. Because of those previous cracks Jeno doesn’t find himself worthy anymore, which is why he chooses to live the life he does. 

Amidst all these thoughts clouding his brain, he found himself standing across Donghyuck and his friend, mark. “Oh hey man, didn’t know you were joining us,” Mark said, an awkward tone could be heard in his voice. Jeno gave him a tight lipped smile, “yeah. Good seeing you too.” the words came out a little harsh, but he didn’t regret that. Truth be told he wasn’t very fond of Mark but not for the reasons one would assume. Mark was pretentious, always thinking he was better than others. Sometimes he was, maybe that’s why Jeno felt so threatened by him. 

Jaemin and Mark began setting up the game, Jeno watching them as he cleaned his cue, Donghyuck glanced at Jeno then mark. “A bit weird since you guys are both going for the same girl” he said, making Mark freeze up. Jaemin glanced at Jeno who only rolled his eyes. “No idea what you’re talking about man” Jeno mumbled, trying to act unphased. Why did he have to let his jealousy get the best of him? “Really? I mean Mark here told me you were dating yn?” Jaemin furrowed his brows and kept his gaze on Jeno. Jeno looked up to see everyone else looking at him. “Dude.. c’mon” Mark muttered next to Donghyuck, who only smiled smugly. 

Jeno shifted his gaze at Mark who looked at something behind Jeno, looking insanely nervous. He looked at Jaemin then sighed. “Me and yn are not dating, I would never see her like that” Jeno finally said, making Donghyuck nod and smile softly as he looked behind Jeno. “Hey yn!” he said, waving his hand. Jeno felt this pit in his stomach, like everything was going to go wrong now. He breathed out, trying to keep his composure. He turned around to see you, standing next to Heejin and Chenle. “Didn’t hear you coming” he mumbled, making the anger bubble in your chest more than it was. “Yeah?” you breathed out, glaring at him. 

Crack. 

He finally looked at you to hold your gaze, there was something behind your eyes that he hadn’t ever seen before. Hurt? Anger? Sadness? No it wasn’t any of those but rather regret.

You regretted meeting the man in front of you. 

You cleared your throat and walked past Jeno, sitting down on the couch not too far from the pool table. Chenle followed, sitting down next to you. You had your arms crossed, looking down at your feet. He glanced at you then Jeno. “You know you can tell me anything right?” Chenle said, making you look up to look at him. You knew you could, that wasn’t far from the truth but you didn’t want to. Suddenly the severity of yours and Jenos relationship was more than clear, as it was clouded in rose colored lenses before. 

You yearned for the chase of Jeno and the idea of being his to keep but he didn’t want you in the same way, no, he wouldn’t want you in the same way as far as you knew it. Not when he would say explicitly to people you knew that he wouldn’t ever want you in that way. How could you have let your own delusions take you this far? 

“Yeah i know” you finally breathed out, shifting your gaze at Jeno, then back to Chenle. Chenle pursed his lips, then sighed, deciding not to ask you anything further. You were glad because it was embarrassing, telling someone you wasted so much time on someone who didn’t want you in the first place. You did deserve better and it took Jeno talking about you like you were worthless for you to realize that. 

Before you knew it the game of pool had ended and you watched as all four of them talked amongst themselves. The same thoughts kept flooding your head, why? Why would you let yourself get dragged into this mess with him? Why would you let yourself get treated like this? Why would you fall for him? Amongst all these thoughts there was one that was calling out to you, why were you still here? You had no reason to be, Heejin was clinged to Jaemin and Chenle was now talking to Mark and Donghyuck. 

You got up from the couch, walking past the group they had formed to leave. Although you wanted to think no one noticed, one person did. Out of the corner of his eye Jeno saw you walk away and rush downstairs, he glanced back at Jaemin who was too busy talking to Heejin. “Gonna go use the bathroom” Jeno muttered, walking away from the conversation and rushing downstairs to find you. Fortunately he knew you and he knew you would be going outside, unfortunately he knew that the last person you wanted to see was him. 

He worked his way through the crowd, walking past drunk people and people who were high out of their minds. Finally he found himself at the entrance to the backyard which was open, in the distance he could see you standing in the field of grass. He walked out and shut the door behind him, making his way over to you. For some reason you always knew when he was around because you immediately turned around. 

You two stared at each other for a couple minutes, both of you unsure what to say until you finally broke the shared silence. “I thought you would never want to be seen with me,” you breathed out, your words cutting through Jeno like a knife. He pursed his lips and sighed, “Yn I never said that” he mumbled and you furrowed your brows, almost in amusement. “You basically could’ve,” you replied back, making him sigh out once more, but this time in frustration. 

“I had to say that, it would’ve gotten too weird,” he said, making you roll your eyes in response, “no one would’ve cared if we were together Jeno.” were. You said were. What did this mean for you and him now, he thought. “You don’t get it yn,” you furrowed your brows once more, squinting your eyes to make sure you were seeing him properly. But you weren’t. You didn’t recognize this side of Jeno because all you had seen was the side of him that you thought wanted you, and now you can’t tell the real from the fake. 

“Is it really that impossible to want me? Seriously Jeno?” your words hit him hard but you weren’t upset, rather angry, at yourself. Jeno wanted to reach out for your hand but he stopped himself, clenching his fist instead. “Baby-” “Don’t.” you cut him off, breathing out and closing your eyes, what was the point of this argument? Were you here to knock some sense into him because it wouldn't work and you knew that deep down. Instead you knew that you should just walk away, but your feet were stuck in that same place as you stared back at him. 

For once his eyes weren’t filled with lust but rather longing and need, was this just another one of his tactics to get you to stay?  Was it working, is that why you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave? He continued to stare at you until he broke eye contact looking down at the grass instead. What was he doing, why would he say that, how could he say that, all these questions ran through his head as he stood in front of you. You looked at him once more and sighed, starting to walk away until he grabbed your hand to stop you. 

You looked at him with almost hopeful eyes until he said something you never expected. “I love you.” he breathed out, staring back at you. You looked between his eyes back and forth, for an answer. He was hoping for something back, but you stood there in silence as you looked in his eyes. Finally you did something, retracting your hand away from his hold. 

Crack. 

“Are you serious?” you finally spoke, rather calmly and Jeno could only stare back at you. Your chest heaved up and down as you breathed in and out, trying to calm yourself. You looked up at the sky, closing your eyes. You looked back at himself feeling the anger bubble up even more. “Can you say something?” you said and Jeno only pursed his lips, your anger rubbing off on him. “What else do you want me to say? I already said I love you yn” those three words again, hitting you like a blow to the face. 

“Anything but that Jeno please.” You mumbled and Jeno only furrowed his brows in confusion, “I thought this is what you wanted? You wanted to know if I want you and here's your answer” Jeno said back making you feel even angrier. "You don’t love me Jeno so stop saying it” you said now it being Jenos turn to be amused. “Seriously what more do you want from me yn?” he replied rather annoyed and you only glared at him. 

“Nothing! I want nothing from you because you don’t love me. You loved the idea of having me to yourself.” you shouted now, feeling the anger boil over in your body. Jeno scoffed, “Don't do that, you and I both know that this love of yours means nothing in the long run Jeno” you continued on, making Jeno silent. 

Crack. 

“You’ll say this to me now and by next week we’ll be back here, you publicly denying any ties to me and me having to be embarrassed with myself for doing this in the first place!” You shouted some more, feeling tears brimming in your eyes, he watched you with a cold gaze, so unreadable. “Embarrassed? Really Yn?” and you stood there baffled, that that was all he got from what you said. You laughed, in disbelief and hurt. “Jeno you can’t love anyone because you don’t even value yourself. Face it you’re insecure and it rubs off on the person you’re with,” Your voice was calmer now, more confrontational. He sighed out in frustration at your words. “I told you I loved you Yn” he said and you scoffed right in his face, “Those words don’t mean anything without actions Jeno. You and I both know that,” You finally sighed out and the words were hitting him harder now more than ever. 

You were right, it didn’t mean anything without his actions. And what were his actions? Manipulating you, claiming he loved you when he didn’t? Maybe there was an ounce of love for you in him but you were right once more. He couldn’t love anyone because he didn’t value himself. At all really, he didn’t hold himself to any value. He watched as you breathed in and out deeply, wiping away a few stray tears that fell, shaking your head. “Jeno I don’t want to see you again, luckily you don’t either so this’ll be easy,” you finally said, Jeno still stuck frozen. He watched you walk away and let himself stay out there, to reflect on what he could’ve had. 

Breakups weren’t easy, especially when no titles were actually established in a relationship. Jeno laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, his hand over the spot that you used to sleep in when you were here. But that side on his bed was now cold from your loss, you weren’t there, and you weren’t going to be. For the past week Jeno had been wallowing in his own self pity, locking himself in his apartment. If it weren’t for Renjun and Jaemin breaking in with their spare keys he wouldn’t have eaten anything either. 

Jeno flipped over to his side, still clutching his pillow as he laid in bed. He was sure both Renjun and Jaemin knew by now, it was painfully obvious, but he didn’t care anymore. All he could care about was how right you were, how you, who he thought didn't know him, actually knew him inside and out. He sighed out, shutting his eyes to fall back into his deep sleep once more, his dreams and thoughts being clouded with only you. 

When he woke up he found that his bedroom door was open and there was food placed on his bedside counter. He sat up in his bed, staring at the wall across from the bed as he heard a set of footsteps get closer and closer to his room. He glanced at the doorway to see Renjun standing there. The two of them held eye contact with one another until Renjun fully walked into his room, sitting at the edge of the bed across from him. “You didn’t eat your breakfast,” Renjun finally said, making Jeno look up from his blanket. “Wasn’t hungry,” he mumbled in response and Renjun nodded, looking down at the floor. 

“If you’re here to lecture me then just go Renjun, I know I’m a dick,” Jeno breathed out, crossing his arms as Renjun lifted his head, tilting his head. “I’m not.” Renjun said, making Jeno sigh, almost in relief. He didn’t want to talk about it with Renjun or even Jaemin because it was too embarrassing, that he was too in his own head that he didn’t even stop to think how it was affecting you. “But, why’d you hide it?” Renjun continued, making Jeno purse his lips in thought.

Why did he? From the moment Jeno met you he knew you were a good reliable person, you also just clicked with him immediately, so much that it scared him. So that was why he suggested hiding it from your friends in the first place, that if people didn’t know then it would be easier for him to leave you like he did with everyone else. Yet the more time he spent with you the more he kept growing closer to you, unknowingly. One thing led to another and you two had been seeing each other for 4 months, from then it was too late for him to leave so he kept giving you reasons to leave him. 

From telling you not to act close around him at parties to getting jealous over Mark, everything was calculated in Jenos eyes. You just couldn’t see that he was trying to get rid of you. Why did you stay after all he was putting you through. Why did you want him so much that it started to hurt him? Even Jeno didn’t know the answer to that. 

“I just.. thought it was for the best.” 

“But did she think that? Do you think she liked being hidden Jen?” 

Renjuns' words cleared the clouds away in Jenos vision. You didn’t want to be hidden. Of course you didn’t want to be hidden, what made him think you did? “No.. I just said that on my own, she didn’t suggest it,” Jeno finally said, making Renjun sigh out in response. “Look, I’m not entirely sure what happened between the two of you but what I do know is that you both need to communicate, she didn’t deserve to be hidden like some dirty secret and there clearly are some things left unsaid between the both of you.” Renjun said what he had been meaning to tell Jeno, he was right. You didn’t deserve any of this. You deserved love and appreciation, he had been treating you terribly this whole time and you didn’t deserve to endure that. 

“How do I even talk to her, Jun she hates me” Jeno spoke once more, “if she hated you, she wouldn’t have extended an invitation to the art show.” Renjun said without missing a beat, making Jeno furrow his brows. Renjun reached into his pocket, taking out a ticket to the art show and putting it in Jenos lap. Jeno stared back at the ticket, it was mocking him.

There was no way he could muster up the courage to go and face you after embarrassing you like he did. But his heart got the better of him. Jeno stood up from the bed, making Renjun look up at him with a confused stare. He stood like that for a bit and then cleared his throat, “So? Are you going to help me pick something to wear,” Jeno finally said, making Renjun nod and smile. “You know you need to shower,” he said, standing up from the bed making Jeno playfully shove his shoulder, giggling as he did so. 

You stared at the finished piece behind the glass casing of the exhibit. Staring back at you was a heart, with scars and almost battle wounds that were covered by something that resembled a bandaid. Behind it were two small angel-esque wings coming out of it. The piece in itself was up to interpretation as you had told your professor but you knew what the meaning was. It was meant to resemble a heart after a long well lived life, although there were scars and wounds the heart was still put together constantly, signifying that even if things were dull you would get back up. 

That was how you saw yourself after everything with Jeno, you were damaged and bruised sure, but that didn’t mean your life would just stop. The first couple days went in blurs, going home just to sleep and spending the rest of your time in the workshop, but after a long talk with Yerim, you started to feel better. You didn’t have to think about all the what ifs but rather move on from the fact that it had happened and it’s over now. 

The exhibit was now empty and speaking of Jeno, you had passed an invitation to him via Renjun, no one else had seen him since the party. You didn’t expect him to come but you were hoping he would, he always liked seeing your pieces. You sighed, glancing around and seeing no sight of Jeno or anyone else for that matter. You turned around to find yourself face to face with Jeno, but he wasn’t looking at you. You followed where his gaze went and he was looking at the piece, admiring it with glistening eyes. 

He looked like he just showered, his skin always got a little red after a shower. You wondered what he had been up to this past week. He shifted his gaze from the piece, over to you. That was when everything fell silent in your head. “It’s good.. Like really good,” Jeno finally said, smiling softly. “Thanks, I worked really hard on it,” you replied, cursing yourself mentally because what did you mean you worked really hard on it? Of course you did.

He smiled and looked down at his feet, clearly thinking about something. He wanted to say something, you could tell by the way he stood, anxiously fiddling with the rings on his fingers. A part of you wanted to say what he was thinking before he got the chance to but you held yourself back, this was one of those things he had to do on his own. 

You hoped it was what you were thinking about. Truth be told, even if you were happy this was over, you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him. In some weird fucked up away, you would always want him even if it led to you being hurt. For some reason you let it slide but you told yourself, if you were to try again with him, it would be different. 

“I'm sorry, for everything” He finally said, lifting his head up. You took a deep breath and nodded, signaling for him to continue. “I’ve been terrible and there's no excuse, when we first started seeing each other I thought it would be one of those flings where we move on from each other after a week, but it’s not. I care about you Yn and it may not seem like it but I do want to be with you. I know you don't feel the same but I love you Yn.” He breathed out, his voice going soft at the last sentence. You furrowed your brows and spoke up before he could. ‘Who said I didn’t love you Jen?” 

He stared back at you and you sighed, “I do love you, I just thought you were saying it just so I wouldn’t get upset,” you breathed out, Jeno shaking his head. “It’s okay Jen, I forgive you. But if we want to give this another shot we have to talk to one another.”

There was a pause between the both of you, Jeno only smiled softly. “So.. what does this mean?” He said, a sense of hope in his voice. You needed to be the bearer of bad news. You sighed and ran your hand through your hair, “I got accepted to the graduate program” You breathed out, making Jeno smile even more. “That’s amazing Yn, I knew you would get in,” he said, making you nod and smile in response. “The reason why I’m bringing it up is because it’s in a different city, about 3 hours away,” you finally said, inserting the metaphorical knife.

Jeno fell silent, he thought about the weight of your words. “I can do long distance Yn.” He spoke up, surprising you and himself that he was thinking with his heart. You fell silent, in shock. He wore the same frown he did earlier and nodded. “Okay so you don’t want to” he sighed out and you widened your eyes. “No I do!” you said, rather loudly and quickly. He stared back at you, a small smile on his face. “But let’s take it slow, you know.. I mean most of our relationship is gonna be through texts and calls,” you said, making him smile even more. “Anything you want.” He muttered, breaking the gap between you two to reach out and hold his hand.

You two began walking, hearts dancing as your footsteps aligned with one another. “You know if we’re going slow, should we start over?” Jeno said, making you nod as you let go of his hand, making him stop walking. You stood in front of him and held out your hand for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Yn,” you said, a big smile on your face as he looked down at your hand and smiled. Jeno shook your hand. “I’m Jeno, and I love you,” he blurted out, making both of you laugh out loud in the now empty exhibit. Your laughs echoed off the walls and Jeno pulled you into his chest, a tight embrace. “I love you too” you mumbled in his ear, tip toeing so he could hear you. 

Nothing was ever meant to be perfect, relationships nor sculpting but it didn’t hurt anyone to give it a shot. 

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[vanesycho]

Hihi! I saw that you were accepting requests, so I wanted ask if you write the “…. is for the girls who” for the rest of the Stray Kids members?

I loved Bang Chan’s one so much!😅

a/n:thank you so much for your request🤍🤍

I didn't write bangchan because I already made the bangchan version but if you haven't seen it you can read it here

stray kids is for the girls who...

Lee Know┆︎리노

lee know is for the girls who get called "you're so cold" too much. for girls who have been forced to be cold and receive negative comments from society because of it, even if they are not actually like that.

lee know is for the girls who love the ones they can’t quite have. the girls who see the tenderness in his eyes, even when he turns away. he's for the ones who are willing to break their own hearts, just to make sure he never has to break his.

lee know is for the girls who understand that sometimes love is hidden in the shadows. the girls who have fallen for the silence between his words, for the way he holds back as if afraid to be truly seen. he's for the ones who know that love can be painful when it's unspoken but choose to stay anyway, hoping that one day he'll let them in.

lee know is for the girls who show their love through actions rather than words. for those who are afraid to openly say the word love out loud and hope that the other person loves them at least through actions.

lee know is for the girls who stay away because they are afraid to love. for those who think they are lost from the start because they can't show their love. for those who try to get used to being alone and don't accept anyone near them. that's why they are seen as cold by most people, but for those who are used to it.

Changbin┆︎창빈

changbin is for the girls who feel the need to change their appearance to fit into society. for those who try to appear more confident and prevent people from making negative comments about them, but deep down they know they still have the same insecurity.

changbin is for the girls who can be happy even for the smallest things. for girls who think about even the smallest compliment given to them for weeks and smile to themselves.

changbin is for the girls who love fiercely but feel the sting of unreciprocated feelings. the ones who see the way he lights up a room but wish they could share in that joy more intimately. he’s for the girls who wish he could see how much he means to them, even when he’s caught up in his own world.

changbin is for the girls who still have the heartbreak of the past even though they seem to have gotten over it. for those who say everything is fine on the outside but still feel the same pain, sadness and insecurity when the subject is brought up.

changbin is for the girls who prefer love words. for girls who like to talk openly about why they are loved and who like to convey their love to the other person.

Hyunjin┆︎현진

hyunjin is for the girls who like to hide their pain behind art. for those who do hobbies such as music, painting, dancing or writing to forget their pain.

hyunjin is for the girls who need someone to laugh and have fun with even at ridiculous things. for those who can laugh for hours with the person next to them, even at the smallest joke, are looking for that person who will fill the room with laughter.

hyunjin is for the girls who everyone loves but get rejected when they love someone. for those who think that love is unfortunate for them, that they will never see true love.

hyunjin is for the girls who are not aware of their talents because of their appearance. for who want to be remembered for their own talents but no one praises them and no one tells them how "proud" they are.

hyunjin is for the girls who think that there is something bad in all that beauty. for girls who see a bad comment among the best comments and think about it for days and maybe weeks and try to correct their mistakes.

Han Jisung┆︎한지성

jisung is for the girls who think they want to disappear but actually want to be found.

jisung is for the girls who have sad feelings that come to them out of nowhere. for the girls who they don't understand why they are sad when everything is going well, but in fact they have to express it because everything is accumulated inside them.

jisung is for the girls who are a little shy at first, who need someone patient enough to break down their walls.

jisung is for the girls who laugh a little too loudly at bad jokes, who love the feeling of butterflies when someone remembers the smallest details about them.

jisung is for the girls who dream big but sometimes doubt themselves, who need someone to remind them that they are capable of achieving anything they set their mind to. he’s for the girls who seek comfort in someone’s touch, who love the feeling of warmth that only a genuine hug can bring. for the girls who see the beauty in vulnerability, who know that behind every joke is a heart that beats with kindness and care.

Felix┆︎필릭스

felix is for the girls who find comfort in a warm smile and a soft voice, who feel safe in the gentle embrace of someone who knows how to listen.

felix is for the girls who love sunlit afternoons and the smell of freshly baked cookies, who need someone whose presence feels like home. he’s for the girls who believe that kindness is a strength, who sees the world as a place that needs more love and understanding.

felix is for the girls who are emotional. for girls whose eyes immediately fill with tears when they see the love that comes to them because they thought they don't deserve it and didn't expect it.

felix is for the girls who need someone to remind them of their worth on days when they can’t see it themselves. for the girls who crave a touch of magic in everyday moments, who believe that a little bit of positivity can change everything.

felix is for the girls who wear their hearts on their sleeves, who sometimes feel too much and need someone who understands their highs and lows. he’s for the girls who want someone to be their light on the darkest days, whose laugh feels like sunshine on a cloudy morning.

Seungmin┆︎승민

seungmin is for the girls who need someone to always understand them because they can't show their love.

seungmin is for the girls who want to feel like kids around someone because they're mature. for those who want to know that they can do whatever they want around that person and never be judged.

seungmin is for the girls who like late night talks. for girls who feel the need to fall asleep listening to someone's voice and want to hear sweet nothings whispered.

seungmin is for the girls who believe that love is built on trust and understanding, who want someone to stand by their side through thick and thin. he’s for the girls who thrive in a relationship that feels like a partnership, where both can grow and inspire each other every day.

seungmin is for the girls who appreciate a good cup of coffee or tea shared in cozy cafes, where they can talk for hours without any distractions. he’s for the girls who understand the importance of communication.

Yang Jeong In┆︎양정인

jeongin is for the girls who embrace their quirks and celebrate uniqueness, who need someone to remind them that it's okay to be different.

jeongin is for the girls who don't want to be judged when they act childish. for those who often avoid overreacting because they hear "you're too loud, be quiet." too much.

jeongin is for the girls who yearn for deeper connections but often feel like they don’t belong. for the girls who sometimes feel invisible, who need someone to remind them that their feelings are valid and that they are seen, even in their most difficult moments.

jeongin is for the girls who often replay past mistakes in their minds, wishing they could go back and change things but knowing they can’t. he’s for the girls who need a partner to remind them that every scar tells a story, and that it’s okay to be imperfect and still be deserving of love.

jeongin is for the girls who have experienced loss and struggle to move on, who yearn for a companion who can offer comfort and understanding in their darkest moments.

[moonsaver]

Context before getting into the actual idea: I recently saw some fanart based on concept art for Dr Ratio where he has slightly longer, messier hair and the fanart interpreted this as him having a bit of a rebellious phase when he was younger.

So now I’m just thinking about Reader going to school with him when he was going through this phase. He had a bit of a crush on her but didn’t know how to express it so he just messed with her constantly.

And now they meet again when he’s changed and he hasn’t gotten over her she’s just getting massive amounts of whiplash from how wildly different he is. Could be yandere 👀

Anon. I am GRIPPINT YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. Listen. Unfortunately i doubt i did this justice but i tried my best PLEASE okay

A bit long, under the cut!

Its not exactly easy to imagine Dr. Ratio of all people being rebellious, but that just makes it even more possibly believeable in my opinion. I am deeply convinced he has had his crazy scientist, jerkward asshole phase at least once and was soo deeply embarassed the moment he left it.

But listen. His professors all probably HATED him because he would probably constantly correct them, be so disgustingly overeducated to the point they'd send him to the library or tell him to get lost just so he wouldn't disrupt class. He's the infamous asshole who sits wherever he wants, and hoardes an entire table to himself if he's at the library or at the cafeteria. Any student who needs a pen or eraser or a pencil knows he's NOT the one to ask, even if it was in the middle of an exam worth half their grade and he was the only person beside them. He does literally anything he wants and no one can stop him except probably by force, and if they do, something worse ends up happening to them instead.

Anyways, here comes in reader. Probably already knows his sour reputation. Regardless, maybe you're the poor soul who's his seatmate. If the crush is already established, he's constantly bothering you. Asking for stationaries like the entirety of his desk isn't covered by it already (he likes the miniscule interaction), taking your notebooks without your knowledge and sometimes even scribbling inside of them (its his horrid handwriting, he's just trying to help you with detailed notes), he comments on how "lame" your outfit is, asking about your social life, rolling his eyes when your response isn't exactly.. pleasing (he's actually a bit content with it. Perhaps you'll hang out with him more, instead?). You note the smell of alcohol trailing him a bit everytime you interact with him.

It's not easy for him, especially when you can't seem to keep up and look so queasy around him. Aeons, his heart is so twisted up and squeezed everytime he seems to be getting more distant from you, but he just has no idea how to convey his feelings. Not when he didn't even account for the fact he'll have a crush on anyone in the first place.

Anyways, timeskip!

You're probably a researcher of some sort, maybe not so well known. Let's just say for the sake of simplicity you're a researcher on Herta's space station. It's not too soon before he runs into you, probably after the whole mess at the station's been "cleaned up" regarding the curio and whatever. Maybe he doesn't leave right after that interaction with Screwellum, and he decides to, by his curiosity, take a look around once again before he leaves (certainly not because he's heard a familiar name thrown around a few times).

And there you are. In your little research-getup, professional vernacular, hair all neat. He's probably right behind you in an instant, and you turn around to look as the colleague you were talking to suddenly starts stuttering and becoming squeamish while looking behind you. There he is, in all his (cruel?) Glory. The infamous asshole who was your classmate.

But.. it's surprising how much more mellow he's become (at least towards you?). His hair are neatly tamed, his build is taller and more muscular than it was back then, but his attire is also quite tame (if not a little.. fancy?), compared to his brash taste back then. His eyes still seem to hold contempt, but more distantly so.

Veritas figures your mouth is agape and you're speechless considering the change in his countenance as of recent. He's also not yet come to terms with the fact that his heart still twists and squeezes whenever he sees that unsure look on your face. If you were made of clay, and if he could, he'd meld the most beautiful smile on your face with his craftful fingers. Alas, he resorts to tamer methods. At least he supposes he's a wiser man, now. He's more aware of different courting methods.

He asks about your station, your current life, family, friends, etc .. in a seemingly disinterested tone. There's a bit of resignation but hidden constrain in his voice, everytime you mention a "close friend" of yours or a colleague you worked with "closely". But he hasn't been berating you the way he would have back then. His fingers slightly constantly strain, folded behind his back, trying desperately not to taper towards you – there's stray strands of hair on your face. Your headpiece is off centre. Your pen is slanting in your pocket. Your shoulders are too tense. Your eyebrows are furrowed. your eyes look tired. Have your lips always been chapped? They were fine back then.. hold on.

While you stutter out useless formalities and pleasantries, Veritas' eyes scan you over. Time has weathered you well, in his opinion. The thin line of his pressed lips dont quite indicate that. He sighs almost grimly, shutting you up in an instant. He offers you to accompany him and possibly consider joining the Intelligentsia Guild (is it not worth a shot trying? It may be foolish, but he's a tad too desperate when it comes to you). You timidly mumble out a refusal, the words barely leaving your mouth. He nods.

Catching up makes his heart squeeze and rush all over the place. Topics he once tried to teach you back then (by.. VERY unsuccessful methods,) seem to be elementary knowledge to you now. You work more efficiently, hold yourself in a better, more confident way, and you seem to be smoothsailing in your life. Granted, it's technically the bare minimum, but its been so long since he talked to you. The chirp in your voice, the chuckle you let out every now and then despite your nervousness around him, has his heart in his throat. He can't bring himself to try and even "set you straight" by giving you (unwarranted) advice or piddling your achievements, there's a soft smile he's duly hiding behind his scorning face.

He offers you again, if you are unsure about joining the Guild, and discreetly mentions it being filled with imbeciles regardless when you deny again, pulling another string of laughter out of you. Hmph, you weren't so joyful when he made those statements back in high school.

Granted,you're obviously still not quite sure about Veritas' new look. He's still got his infamous reputation as an extremely strict teacher, the oddball with an alabastor head and having worked with the IPC, it's not a pleasant image per se, but it's heaps better than his reputation back at school. You politely make a joke about it, and he groans, earning another cautious, light chuckle from you. He has become different. You prattle on about the length of his hair, his refinement of speech, the difference in how he holds himself now.. it does leave him melting a tad bit inside. You noticed it? Hm. Clever little thing.

Of course, goodbyes are seldom sweet. He does manage to pry out your contact information once again, before. If you don't budge,he finds another way regardless. Your network of colleagues aren't exactly as strong as you might have thought. He remembers this information carefully.

Like the old days, maybe he'll manage to keep slipping notes into your reports and files. Perhaps pull a few strings back in the old days to keep you in his class, he'll slowly knot and twist a few strings to bring and budge you over to his little workplace. Sooner or later, you'll end up in his home. He's sure of it.

And just like the old days, his little seatmate is by his side once again. Care to put up with him for a bit longer? Probably forever, in this case.

[rowie264]

Jinx x jinxer!reader. First meeting

You don’t really know how you ended up like this.

Truth to be told... you never really believed in your “leader”, if Jinx could even be called that. You didn't even fully dye your hair blue like the others. Just a small strand. In your eyes, Jinx did nothing but blow up the Council and redirect the Grey to Piltover. But even then… it was enough for you to make you join “Jinxers”.

You knew her actions will cause problems to Zaun. But you were so fucking done. You were too tired of being a rug under pilties boots. And maybe that was what Zaun needed to finally reach point of no return and fight back. And you wanted things to change.

So one day your hopeless gray life turned blue.

And now you were here, using your artistic abilities to portray Jinx as a kind of savior and leader of the revolution, as you were asked to do. Only instead of flag and shit you drew her with bombs and explosions. It was more like the image of Jinx you had.

“My eyes and nose are not like that.” Someone’s raspy voice reaches your ears.

You turn to face the intruder and see a girl sitting on the beam above few meters away. Somehow you just knew it was Jinx. You felt it in your gut, even though it was the first time you had encountered her.

You couldn't see her face completely hidden by the shadows, but you could see the color of her eyes. Pink, like shimmer.

“It’s the closest description I’ve got.” You say, too calm for a person who’ve met a Loose Cannon. And before you can stop yourself you add: “Maybe you could pose me so I could do it right?”

After that, there was silence between the two of you. Jinx didn't seem to expect such a reaction from you. You were surprised by your carelessness as well. She was dangerous and insane after all.

“Why not?” she says after a couple of seconds, probably agreeing out of boredom, and jumps off, landing smoothly like a cat.

As she comes over, you finally see her face. It does differ a little from what you were drawing. You also notice how short she is. She wasn't as intimidating as some people described. Although, perhaps, it was such thoughts that led many to their deaths.

You start correcting your painting, glancing at her from time to time, trying to convey her features as accurately as possible. You could lose yourself in art, even standing next to the most wanted criminal. Maybe you were crazy too?

“I'm not a hero you make me out to be, ya know?” Jinx suddenly comments after some time, looking at portrait of herself. Judging by the way she was tapping her feet, it took a lot of effort for her to stand still.

“I am aware.” You respond distantly too focused on your task, barely paying attention to anything around you. You almost finished.

“Then why?” She asks tilting her head and observing you like a hawk.

You take a step back, glancing at the wall to check everything one last time. “Why not?” you repeat her own words from earlier.

Jinx huffs, hiding that she's confused by your answer again. You're not like the other Jinxers she's met before. You treated her almost indifferently, like an ordinary stranger. Not like symbol of Zaun, not like Loose Cannon, but just… Jinx.

“So whatcha gonna do for me for posing to ya?” she casually changes the subject.

“You didn't mention that I have to pay you.” You frown at her, inwardly cursing yourself for being so carefree for not asking earlier.

“Don’t sweat it, toots, I don’t need money.” She waves her hand dismissively and you are not sure if paying with something else is any better.

“Then what?”

“Hmm… let's see…” Jinx walks around you, wondering what to ask you. “You drew me… so it would be fair if I drew on you back, don't you think?”

“Draw me, you mean?”

“I didn’t stutter, toots.” She scoffs pulling crayon out of her pocket.

“Don’t move.” Jinx orders and grabs your wrist. Without asking your permission, she starts drawing something right on your arm.

You didn’t protest – out of your safety and curiosity. Her grip was firm but surprisingly gentle. You couldn't help but look at her tattoos until your gaze landed on her face. This close, you could see her freckles. The word “cute" flashed through your mind as you stared at her in fascination.

“Here!” She suddenly announces with a beaming smile, pulling you out of your little bubble. You look down at your arm and see little pink clouds painted from wrist to elbow.

“Don't wash it off until I meet you again.” Jinx says and walks away, disappearing into the shadows without explaining anything, leaving you wondering when you'll be able to meet her once more. But to some extent… you want it to happen.

And until then, you would try to keep the clouds on your body.

[evercelle]

I've always been impressed by your ability to analyse media. Your understanding of characters, dynamics, themes have always blew me away, and it's even more impressive how you always find ways to communicate it so elegantly in your artworks. And being able to pick up on these complexities seems to have made engaging with media extra fulfilling for you.

I love seeing this kind of literary depth in fandoms, but I have the media literacy of a brick and have always had to rely on other people's analyses or takes to even begin understanding on that level. I was wondering if you know how you do it, or how anyone can learn to do it really.

btw thank you for always making such lovely art, hope you have a nice and fun year.

close reading is a skill, and like any skill it's something you can develop with effort!! the more you engage and think about a piece of work (and libraries of works) the more you'll get out of it

analysis at its core is inquiry and evaluation... when you're engaging the text ("text" here meaning the work itself whether it's literal text, artwork, movies, games, etc.) try breaking down ur thoughts:

what does the text want to say? -> what does the work want to accomplish? does it instill a narrative, a message, a feeling? teach a lesson? does it ask you a question? does it set up and fulfill or subvert expectations?

how does the text say it? -> what literary/visual techniques did the creator use to convey #1? what were you told versus what were you shown? what was implied vs explicated? does the work favor certain types of techniques or recurring motifs? are they aligned with specific characters or moments or themes?

how did you receive it? -> did the text succeed in conveying #1 via #2 to you? did it hit the mark, and to what degree? if it didn't: why not? if there's disparity between what the text seems to want to say and what you got from it--why and how?

there's so much more to analysis (e.g., for example, applying this framework to a text in context to history, or current events, or the genre; accounting for bias, on the part of the author or the reader; etc. etc.), but as a basic framework this might help to think about the text in large scale (the work as a whole) and then narrow it down (breakdown an arc in the story--a specific character's story--an individual moment in the story--etc).

i also think it's important to sit with a text and formulate ur own initial thoughts on it first before looking for other people's opinions! then you can read others' analysis too to see where it aligns or diverts from yours, what you agree or disagree with, what takeaways might change or enhance your own reading of the text. and then you can get RIGHTEOUSLY indignant when they dont understand ur blorbo the way you do

sorry for textwall HAHA but the more you practice close reading, the easier it gets to identify tropes and literary & artistic devices, and as your mental catalog expands, i think it'll become more fun to identify, compare and contrast what works/stories really resonate for you...! it's wonderful as a creator too, because you can reverse engineer that framework when you're telling your own stories ✨

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Foodie turned Imposter?!

Part 7: Dawn Winery's Grapevine

[ part 6 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 8 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

"It's best we go now and tell Amber that we didn't find anything." Aether decided, having finished eating, you found yourself walking Paimon and Aether out of the hilichurl camp, your warm friend was dozing off after having their fill of wood and pinecones.

"That would be true." You couldn't help but feel a bit sad having to part with them, though your time in this world was short, it felt forever since you had any decent human conversation. Sure the pyro slime and the hilichurls were very welcoming and accomodating but it was hard to have a clear conversation with them due to a language barrier, and the few people you had met in Mondstadt were either a rumored puppet (Katheryne) or tried to kill you in the end (Jean and Lisa).

Noticing your disappointment, the blond haired boy promised you something that made your smile return "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you permanently. I'll come by once the close is clear but. ."

He eyed the Hilichurl group "I think you shouldn't stay here any longer, the knights might come to take care of this camp before it gets to big. . they may find you."

Your eyes widened slightly, you didn't want the Hilichurls who took you in to get hurt. . "I'll keep that in mind. ."

"Here." His hand glowered brightly as he brought out a bow and a quiver filled with arrows, "This should help you in the long run." he said, he didn't want to leave you, not when you clearly couldn't fight to protect your life, but being with him while Mondstadt had his eyes on him would only risk you getting found out.

"Thank you. ." despite your hesitance you forced yourself to take the weapon. . 'right. . I shouldn't hesitate. They never did, so I shouldn't. Not when my life is on the line.'

When the duo had left in the dead of the night, you turned around, basking once more in the peaceful hilichurl tribe. Most of them were asleep, cuddling with each other for warmth near the weak bonfire that your pyro buddy managed.

The children were latched onto the older ones, the samachurl dozing off while stilling sitting, clutching their staff in their hands. Knowing that the Hilichurls were overprotective of you (for a reason you cannot quite comprehend at the present), you decided you must leave the hilichurl group for both of your own safety's. But not now, you at least wanted to be just a bit selfish.

You sat next to the dozing campfire, hugging your knees close to your chest. 'There's a lot to be done.' you thought, hand wondering to a nearby hilichurl's head, feeling their soft fur or hair, you found your fingers gently coming through the tangles.

Their origins were not unknown to you, and that made it harder for you to stay and leave them. To stay would put them at a risk of the knights attacking them to get through to you, while leaving them would damn them of the punishment placed on to them. You could not stay and defend them when she didn't even have any combat prowess.

Despite being a former culinary arts students, you had experience due to playing Genshin Impact. There was a way to make sure the hilichurl group would not be ill-equipped. Of course helping them get stronger may mean they'd end up hurting innocent civilians but. . they were much better than the people, so you didn't need much more convincing.

Come the next few days you helped in fortifying their walls and making simple watch towers out of wood so their archers would have better leverage. Of course all you did was draw the watchtower and they understood what you were trying to convey to start building it.

The Samachurl was also able to help with communication, but they way that the Sama looked at you meant he was beginning to understand why you had them do these things. You thought the younger hilichurls how to cook and prepare food that weren't just meat but also those with vegetables.

"You need to eat your vegetables okay?" "nye!" a hilichurl huffed, crossing their arms and turning away. "Hey!"

You also accompanied them when they went hunting and foraging, they taught you how to prepare birds and boars to turn into food and meet, while you taught them how to season them and prepare it so the food will last longer.

They helped you learn how to use a bow and in turn the first prey you had caught were given to them. When you realized that they were now able to live more efficiently, you decided to leave that particular night.

You left half of the food and ingredients you had foraged, the rest going into your inventory. As you walked out of the camp, you found yourself turning back only to flinch at the Samachurl who appeared right in front of you.

"Unu. ." the sadness in his voice conveyed that he knew you were about to leave, without planning to return. . at least for a long while.

Swallowing away your nerves, you responded by simply bowing deeply in respect and gratitude "Valo. . for everything."

"a. .ah." the Samachurl coughed, once again he spoke in broken human language. . "p. please, come back, ye unu. . we're your odomu." and he bowed in front of you, much deeper, almost falling to the ground as he regarded with reverence.

You straightened up, feeling a mixture of emotions as you approached him, arms enveloping his much smaller form as you placed a kiss on his forehead. "I will."

🏹⁀➴˚ ✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Find yourself alone made you feel solemn and rather lonely, but you resisted the urge to go back. Due to the terrain of Brightcrown mountains, there were so few paths you could take. Since you weren't a skilled rock climber nor did you feel safe swimming at cider lake with its proximity to city of freedom, you decided to take the path that lead south, to the sub area Windwail Highland.

Windwail Highland consisted of Dawn Winery, Wolvendom and Springvale. Your goal was to go to Wolvendom, due to it being home to the wolves, it was a less popular sight in the region. There were few people there, actually you were sure that there would only be one person to worry about, Razor.

Wolvendom held something precious you would need after all, Wolfhook, it was not because you wanted to try cooking with them. . . okay partly it was, but it was mainly for its medicinal properties! Since you couldn't go to the city and get healed by someone like Barbara, you could only rely on homemade remedies and recovery food.

Of course recovery food were for hp in the end, you don't think they'll heal any broken bones you may get along the way. But since you didn't know how to exactly use them, you also had to improvise this entire journey of yours to make sure you live.

You eyed the lake that entered your vision, as your hand placed itself on a waypoint, ignoring it whirl to life you turn to the fork in the path. One leading to the winery, the other leading to Liyue. If Aether hadn't told you why you were being targeted by Mondstadt, you'd have probably escape to Liyue using this path by now but. .

if Mondstadt, the city of freedom itself wanted you dead without any due process, what of Liyue? Liyue, a region steeped in tradition, this creator was respected in the entire continent. . thinking about it, there wasn't really any safe places for you to go to, to seek refuge in.

Even if there were people who would willingly protect you and house you, you'd no doubt feel guilty for putting them in potential harm's way. You massaged the lower half of your face as you decided to continue trekking on, but instead of feeling your skin, you felt a fabric around you. "Ah right" you murmur as you remembered making a half-assed veil to cover the majority of your face. The hilichurl masked had been an option but that would garner more attention to yourself as a human dressed as a hilichurl.

But with the apparel you were wearing you could easily play yourself off as being a nomad from a far of region, possibly the Sumeru Desert, the clothes would be close enough to it and considering there were few or none sumeru visitors in Mondstadt except for Lisa (who has been away from the dendro region for years) then you were safe.

The smell of grapes seemed to linger around the area now, and lo and behold, you could see Dawn Winery with its grapevines in full glory. Curiously you stopped to stare, watching as numerous maids and workmen were hauling the harvest to the house.

"Oh hello there, is there anything we can do for you?" You flinched as you turned to find a maid approach her, one with short light blonde hair and green eyes, her appearance was very familiar to her but the name was definitely on the tip of your tongue.

"U-uh no, sorry I just smelled some grapes." You awkwardly stood, wondering if the maid knew about the wanted 'Imposter' on the loose.

The woman nodded, a smile on her face. "I see, here at Dawn Winery, we grow a lot of varieties of grapes that are used for our wine and some other special ingredients." she added helpfully.

"Is it harvesting season then?" you asked curiously, the woman nodded "yes, for one of our rotations. We are actually hiring some adventurers for some labor. Are you by chance one of those adventurers who saw our request?"

Immediately you shook your head "Ah I'm an adventurer, yes. But I haven't seen this request of yours."

"Ah I see"

Seeing her disappointment you added "however if you still need an extra pair of hands, I can help." you offered and she instantly smiled. "That's great, why don't you follow me and I can explain to you what we need to do!"

You nodded, taking a steady pace as you followed behind the woman who'd you come to realize was Adelinde. All you had to do was harvest the grapes in one section of the winery, then help with the cleaning then the delivery of a wine. "Apparently, the Knights are ordering for abled men to partake in the hunt of a person impersonating out great Creator." Adeline offhandedly mentioned, which explained why most of the people in the area were either maids or much older workers that probably did not meet Jean's standards for participants.

"I see, that must have been a trouble for your business." You nodded along as you grabbed a wooden basket, and started working. You were too far into it to leave anyways, and hopefully they'd pay you a lot for the menial labor. Maybe finally you could escape the nightmare that is minimum wage.

The grapes looked juicy and plump, you were almost tempted on snacking on a few but you didn't want to return Adelinde's kindness with eating their grapes. You could probably make some raisins with the grapes.

"Oh Master Kaeya, what are you doing here?" You flinched at Adelinde who was greeting a boy with dark blue hair. "Hello Adelinde" he greeted respectfully, without a hint of teasing. From the corner of your eye you could see him interact with the maid.

A shaky sigh escaped your lips, hoping the captain would not notice you. "I heard you were short on hands so I thought I'd stop by and assist you."

"Don't tell me you ditched your work." The woman huffed, hands on her hips, but she didn't look too annoyed. "Maybe, maybe not. But it's okay, Diluc is working with the Knights at Jean's behest." He waved her off.

"I see, thank you for your help. . but are you sure? this situation is very important. It is true that there is an imposter like in the prophecy?" Adelinde asked with a hush whisper, but you found that the wind carried their voices to you making it easier for you to eavesdrop.

"Supposedly, but I would not rule out this imposter for simply having a few similar features with her divinity." Kaeya said with a small sigh, the maid skeptically wondered "that is true but. . are they truly going to execute this person on sight. . what if they are actually the creator?"

If Adelinde had a choice, she would rather give it time to truly determine this person's status before deciding to execute them on the spot.

"I would agree. But maybe Diluc could bring reason to Jean."

"Hopefully, Jean has always been fond of Diluc, maybe she'd listen to him."

Oh? did that mean Jean did have feelings for the red haired dark knight? you couldn't help but cover your mouth with your hand, finding the tea to be interesting.

"But you know, I wonder why Jean is acting like this, usually she's so level headed." Adelinde sighed cupping her cheek in dismay, she was quite disappointed with the acting grand master's choice of actions.

"Well you know it is quite a sensitive topic, it seems like she wants to curry favor with the great Creator after being neglected." Kaeya unabashedly exposed Jean's secrets. You blinked in confusion, hands stopping as if frozen from harvesting another grapevine. Jean was neglected by the creator?

'so like mommy issues or God Issues?'

You couldn't help but ponder the implications of what was revealed to you, that meant that the God was still active in some ways but still silent.

Then you remembered something, you had jean, you had pulled for a character you had wanted only to lose 50/50, and because by then she was out of meta you didn't bother using her, only building her to get the few free wishes. .

You nearly dropped your basket as something cold washed over you. . something, something was clearly wrong.

°🥂⋆.ೃ🍾࿔*:･

After harvesting all the ready grapes in the section Adelinde instructed you, you found them ready the grapes into wooden buckets as the other more experienced maids handled the work. "Why don't you take a seat and wait, the others are loading up the wine in the cart." Adelinde offered as you nodded in relief, you found your feet hurting from standing on unpaved paths without any proper protection.

"By the way," you flinched, turning to Adeline who simply smiled at you, unaware of your unease "I never got your name."

"It's [Name]." you said with a slight nod as you then headed to the chairs and tables scattered around the estate. You felt your stomach rumble, finding yourself starving. You should cook something, you wondered if you can borrow the nearby cooking pot. "Why hello there?"

Your eyes widened, turning to meet Kaeya, how long had he been aware of your presence? how long had you been distracted by your hunger to not notice him approaching?

"I've never met you before, you are?"

"[name] just a nomad." you answered with a frown, eyes narrowing at the captain. What was he up to? even though he seemed to not agree with Jean's witch trial, he was still a wildcard.

"Oh? from where?" he took the seat next to you, a smile plastered on his face.

"The desert in Sumeru."

Your answers were short and had a sharp edge, but it did not deter the Cavalry captain who only seemed more and more amused. You wondered whether Aether trusted the man enough to tell him about what he knew of you.

"Oh really? I've never been there before. What's it like?"

"Unbearably hot during the day, cold during the night. There are also a lot of eremites and mercenary." You answered. Could he even confirm or deny your claims? sure he had connections, but did it reach towards Sumeru who was quite far?

His fingers tapped the wooden table that separated the two of you, "I've never been to Sumeru before, could you tell me more about it?" he asked, putting on his charismatic tone. "What do you care for then?" you gritted out.

"How about the cuisine?"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you found yourself going into a long rant about the food in Sumeru. Although you could never truly describe it's by its taste, having never eaten it. You vividly remember its description.

"The pita pockets are very tasty and filling, I made it once (recreated) and it was delicious. You can change the fillings, I tried one with a filling similar to what I usually use in Quesadillas. But you can change it to have some lettuce or tomatoes and pork. But if you want a dish you can try the Tandoori Roast Chicken, it's similar to the Sweet Madame but instead of being sweet it's more savory with spices." You continued on ranting as Kaeya blinked, he was not expecting this.

He wasn't able to cut in for awhile as you passionately talked about the food from Sumeru, sometimes you complained about the ingredients, other times you gushed about how delicious it was when you cooked it or how disappointed you were when you hadn't.

"Personally I always wanted to try their Shawarma wraps, but I haven't had the chance to recreate it as well as the Rose custard. I love pudding, what about you?"

"oh uh" he blinked again, not expecting you to stop as you, again, were rather passionate. Realizing it as well, you reeled back, cheeks and ears taking on a rosy hue as you apologized, definitely embarrassed for chatting his ears off.

"It's alright" he found himself chuckling, for some reason, when you had your guard down and began talking with such passion, he found himself relaxing, warming up to your more genuine side.

"Personally I'd prefer a good meal that could be paired with some wine." He commented, he propped his arm up by placing his elbow on the table, as he leaned his cheek on his palm. "Since you came from Sumeru, have you tried any Mondstadt dishes?"

You shook your head, you didn't have a chance to because of Jean and Lisa, you bitterly thought. "How about I treat you?" he offered and suddenly the sound of your stomach pitifully grumbling was heard, you wanted to die as he said with an amused smile "I'll take that as a yes then."

Rather than actually buying you food, he took it upon himself to cook you something. The blue haired knight had borrowed the kitchen in the Ragnvindr estate. You sat patiently on a stool as you watched him worked, wondering if he was always this easy going with people? To cook for someone, well to you that was rather intimate after all.

You smelled the scent of fruit, and quickly you realized he was making his signature dish. If cooking for someone you just met wasn't intimate, then cooking your signature dish for someone you weren't even close to was definitely intimate.

"Here you go, a plate of my famous Fruity Skewers." he said after a few moments, presenting you with a plate with his signature dishes. It looked more appetizing than the base recipe which was the chicken-mushroom skewers, you could see the slices of cucumber and onions paired with the chicken and mushrooms which had a shiny coat to it, probably from the wine he used to marinate. With a hum you took a skewer and bit into it.

Kaeya watched with slight interest at how your eyes sparkled from the dish, you licked your lips after finishing a skewer and when you turned to him, any apprehension you had towards him was gone. "This is delicious!"

When you had recreated his signature dish back at home, you clearly didn't do any justice for his signature dish. Perhaps it was the wine, no, it was definitely the wine you had used that failed to capture it's essense.

"I'm glad you liked it. You are. . quite enamored with food huh?"

You weren't offended by his remarks, instead you proudly sat straighter, as you jabbed your thumb towards yourself "That's right. I'm a foodie."

"A foodie?" he repeated, a certain shift in his tone that you hadn't noticed.

"That's right," you smiled "a foodie is basically a person who is very interested in food!"

"That seems like an understatement, when I take you for an example." At his words you blushed, chuckling as you remembered how you rant off moments ago, on just the sumeru dishes alone.

The two of you began eating in the kitchens, you were sure Adelinde had pop by once but immediately closed the door but you weren't too sure. Kaeya wasn't bothered, taking the time to savor the meal as you decided to return the favor by making some desert.

I use he/they pronouns for the slime, they/them for hilichurls but some I used he/him. The samachurl is he/they. Since I'm writing a female reader, i usually use her, but it's mostly 'you'.

I'm sorry you had to leave them, it's for the story's progression.

oh and this story is going to be definitely lighthearted with a few pinches of angst, how you treat characters when you were playing the game will definitely affect their standing on you. Well at least in Jean's case.

Current compiled suggestions to name the pyro slime <3

Fuji_Sen has suggested! Lava Cake or "Java" based on the food / coffee" Fuji_Sen has suggested! Monsieur Creme Brulee or "Creme" based on the food. @Fantasyhopperhea has suggested! Soleil or "Sol" @Cactus4226 has suggested! Ruru (Py-ro, ro -> ru -> ruru) @bunniotomia has suggested! Helios or "Hel" @airyravenmaid has suggested! Cinnamon or "Cinna"

taglist:

@fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle @aman3kkun @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @bunniotomia @esthelily

@earth-to-name @fandomfan-102 @kh1ffy @jiyeons-closet @dragontammerz / @mercy-not-merci @aryuunachigiri @randomnatics @alexx197197 @keirennyx @vianitry @game-savvy @laviniadraws

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