do i really need to beg? because i will
Synopsis. After being offered to transfer to your top choice college in your second year, you're excited to finally be where you always wanted. Only… you weren't expecting for your plans to derail so quickly. You suppose you have Chojo to thank for that.
Pairings. Chojo x fem!reader
Author's Note. When I first started writing this, I had absolutely no idea how I wanted to do this. I'm pleasantly surprised at the story I've come up with. I believe I may keep Chojo as a character I come back to and expand on in the future, but this will be his origin story with me. I want to thank you for taking the time to read my work, and while I will never claim to be the best writer, I am proud of my creative outlet here.
To be frank, Chojo as a character was not my original idea. In fact, I was inspired by a fanart depiction and ran with it. I ran so fast that we're now sitting here with a very questionable story. I didn't love the idea of making the reader a raging bitch at first, but kept it because of the character development we go through. It won't be everyones cup of tea, and I respect that. But for those of you that stick with me through this, I hope I do the development justice.
Anyway, I'll shut up now. Thank you again. I hope you love it.
It’s been less than a week since you arrived at Solita University, your first pick of colleges. You were already starting your sophomore year at Cambridge when you were invited to transfer after Solita had initially declined your application for admittance. To say you had been disappointed when you received the email during the week of finals your senior year of high school would be a dreadful understatement. You had been working hard for three years prior to apply to the school of your dreams. Taking as many hours at work as you could to save up for the ridiculous tuition, studying endlessly into the night by chugging energy drinks, and having no social life. Really it was odd to even think of trying to make friends now.
You have only one goal in mind- be the top student in your Occult Studies program. That means keeping to your routine of work, no friends, self care and discipline in the form of heavy lifting and running, and NO DISTRACTIONS. You let yourself slip once by getting a boyfriend your freshman year at the college you just transferred from and immediately saw a tanking in your grades. Relationships were just so… needy, which you suppose is fine, but not when you need to be focused. But, as you walk around the unfamiliar campus, watching your peers as they chat to their next class, you know you are fucked. Does this college only accept hot people? Fuck’s sake.
Shaking your head to dispel the thought, you turn your gaze toward the campus map in your hands. Soon you would feel comfortable without it, but you weren’t risking taking a wrong turn and ending up lost and late. Setting your sights on the building that held your next class, which luckily didn’t begin for another 45 minutes, you debate going to get a coffee. It was on the way, and you’d need the extra energy to get through your study session and then your run at noon. It could be a small celebratory drink for finally having a class that had something to do with your major and wasn’t one of the required general educations like the Literature class you had Tuesday or the math from Monday.
Your mind starts planning your run around the campus, seeking sidewalks and walkways over the road as you look around once more. Fitness had become something of a comfort. A stable thing you came back to each day in your routine that made you feel better about yourself. You felt confident in your body, but felt like it was necessary to dedicate time to strength and self defense. A woman can never be too careful in today’s world, especially when living on a college campus. The same day you found out you’d been accepted into college and applied for on campus housing, you went to your local gym and started taking sessions with a private trainer. Best. Decision. Ever. You felt strong. Like you could do anything. You’re a machine. An unassuming, deadly one.
Deciding finally that, yes, you deserve that iced caramel macchiato with extra vanilla and “please line the cup with some extra caramel”, you make your way towards the coffee shop just a few minutes away from your next class. Your earbuds drum a steady beat into your mind, Muse sounding as yummy as ever with Psycho embracing your eardrums.
You’re so excited by the thought of the nice drink mixing with the music in your head and the cool breeze blowing today that you don’t notice at first that someone has started to walk beside you. Your head snaps to them as their long strides catch your periphery. He’s familiar. And ridiculously tall. And large. He’s a big dude, alright. At least a foot taller than you. His wide chest and shoulders eclipse the sun as he looks down at you. You squint as you try to look at his face, the heavenly light around him framing him like a halo. I’d laugh at the absurdity of this picture if my eyes weren’t about to melt down my face. Eyes finally adjusting, you take in his features. Good God, he’s stunning. Is he the fucking Sun personified? Have I died? Maybe he actually is an angel, because what the hell. His startling sapphire eyes are crinkled as he smiles down at you. The hair that is stark silvery-white and pulled up into space buns makes the sun seem even brighter as it shines through it. His lips, framed by a defined jaw, are lush, the cupid’s bow deep. Soft, I bet… dammit, stop! No. You purse your lips. You know you have a class with him, but who were you kidding? You barely paid any attention to the people around you in your classes besides your professors. You lift up a hand to take out an earbud, effectively pausing the beautiful cadence of Matt Bellamy’s voice.
“Uh, hello?” you ask incredulously. Isn’t it widely understood that if someone has earbuds in and is walking like they’re on a mission that they probably don’t want to talk?
“Hey,” he smiles wider down at you as he keeps up with your pace, “aren’t you the transfer from my math class? Professor Aster?”
Ah, well that explains that. “Mm, yeah… nice to meet you,” your tone is obviously bored, and you’re not at all feeling “nice” about meeting him. Just when it was turning into a nice walk, too.
He glides closer through his strides next to you and smoothly leans down while walking to pluck a flower from the ground. He holds it out to you. “For you. It reminds me of you,” he says with a blindingly bright smile.
You take the flower hesitantly, and your brows furrow. “Um, thanks?” Your dry tone is usually enough to make most men run for the hills, but Hulk over here doesn’t seem deterred.
“It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” he asks, obvious pride lighting his voice. He must think his attempt at flirtation is working. You don’t answer, only rolling your eyes. “I’m Chojo, but you can call me Cho. I’m an Occult Studies major. And you?” He leans in and waits for your reply, but your mind can’t seem to compute. He’s also an OC major? Meaning you’ll have to be around… that face and body… everyday? You won’t even get reprieve on the days where you just have general classes, because as luck would have it, he’ll be there, too. At least you can lock away the feral thoughts on Tuesdays and the weekend.
Finally finding words in your brain to form a sentence, you reply. You tell him your name and carry on. “Huh, small world. That’s my major.” You huff, far too done with socializing already.
Chojo’s grin somehow gets impossibly brighter, his eyes shining with interest. “Really? That’s fascinating. Maybe I’ll get lucky and we’ll have some classes together.” He leans in once again, lowering his voice. “Y’know… the Occult Studies department isn’t very… populous. It’d be nice to have someone to sit with.”
“Mmm, very smooth, but no thanks. I’m trying to focus on my studies. I don’t need any distractions. Especially one so flirty,” you deadpan, looking over to roam your eyes from toe to head as you gesture the flower to follow your gaze and it rakes over him. He’s got a decidedly alternative style. Everything he’s wearing is black from head to toe, and you can see his muscular thighs flex with each step in his ripped black jeans. Your eyes quickly flit back up to his with a glare. You do your best to look uninterested, but the mantra in your head sings his eyes, his eyes, his eyes. To your credit, they are mesmerizing. Even still, you don’t give into the flirtation, and turn your gaze forward once more. “Well I’ll catch you later, Cho. And,” you scoff, “thanks for the flower.”
Chojo’s grin fades a little, but his eyes remain playful as he watches you walk away and pop your earbud back in. “Suit yourself!” he calls after you, laughing. “But you are a very nice distraction,” he mutters to himself.
You walk to your next class, watching your fingers as they twirl the flower. You scoff. What an ass. What did he expect? That I’d fawn over him for giving me a flower? But it doesn’t go over your head that you tuck the flower behind your ear anyway. Might as well. You are here for a degree, you tell yourself, not to gush over an (admittedly very handsome) man that may or may not have better than average flirting skills.
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Chojo makes it to his next class and sits a few rows from the front. Pulling out his phone, he shoots a text to his pinned group chat.
Cho: Just met the most intriguing girl. She’s a transfer into the OC Program. She’s… prickly, but in the best way.
Yu<3: it’s about time! you gonna ask her out? ;)
Gumi: you? being intrigued by someone? Yuji call a cake decorator.
Cho: I think there’s a high probability that I’ll either have my hair singed off or turn to stone if I ask her out. Gumi shut up
Yu<3: you’re just nervous. she’s probably just trying to get used to a new school. you got this, Cho. how about you make her more… comfortable ;)
Chojo coughs. Did he read that right? When did Yuji become so… so shameless?
Gumi: Kugisaki, give Yuji back his phone and stop being a perv.
Yu<3: you’re no fun, Fushi.
Chojo looks up from his phone and sees you at the door. Your eyes lock and the air rushes out of you both at the electricity that crackles through you. You manage to hide it with a scowl and make your way to a desk at the end of the row at the front, closest to the door. He notices the flower behind your ear, which you’ve already forgotten amidst the frustration at seeing him in the same class. Of course we’ll have classes together. I don’t know why I thought I may get off easy. OC is a small program and there’s not a lot of professors for the subject matter. I just have to stay focused. You tell yourself as you pull out your notebook and laptop.
Chojo’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he sees a text from the group chat light up his home screen. He reads it quickly and smiles.
Yu<3: actually me this time. ask her out. you’ve never mentioned anyone before, so she must be special. I vote go for it, Cho. :)
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The professor walks in and immediately starts the lesson, shooting a small nod in your direction, a hello of sorts, before the screen on the wall whirs to life. You take thorough notes in your notebook, adding links for further research during your study session on your laptop. Every so often, you feel your neck prickle and know that Chojo is looking at you. Like right now. Frustrated, you turn your head slowly toward him a few rows behind you. He is staring at you. You raise an eyebrow at him in a gesture of what the hell are you looking at?
Chojo doesn’t look away, instead letting his eyes roam over your features before settling back on the flower tucked behind your ear. He smiles to himself, finding your cranky demeanor charming. He finally looks away, but not before throwing you a nodding smile in acknowledgement of your glare.
You huff, but a secret smile graces your lips that you take good care to hide with your hair as a curtain between you. The professor dismisses the class and you carefully put your things away before heading for the door. Chojo takes his time gathering his belongings, watching as you pack up your own with a softness painting his expression. He takes a moment to steel himself before walking over to you.
“Hey, uh…” he pauses, his brows creasing.
“Already forgot my name? How charming,” you chastise as you begin to walk out. Such an ass…
“No,” he says your name in reassurance before he continues. “I didn’t forget. I just wanted to ask you something.” He pauses again, but continues to trail you as you make your way toward the library… you think? Damn unfamiliar campus. I am not pulling out that map, though. Not when he'd use it as an excuse to walk me there. “I’m not really good with this stuff, but…”
“What is ‘this stuff’?” you throw at him over your shoulder. You see the library pillar on the other side of the campus courtyard and sigh, grateful to not have to pull out the map.
He takes a deep breath to gather his thoughts (and nerves) before responding, “I just wanted to know if you’d like to grab a coffee or something sometime?”
“Actually I need to study, so no thank you,” you answer, making it clear that sometime would be never (if you held your ground). This guy doesn’t back down. It’s kinda… cute. He’s not being forceful, just trying to get me to warm up. It’s refreshing.
Chojo’s face falls a little, but he quickly masks it with a smile as he pulls out a small notepad and pen and writes something before ripping it out and handing it to you. “Alright, well if you change your mind, I’m usually at the coffee shop near the edge of campus.” Of course he goes to the coffee shop you scoped out for your runs from your apartment. No point in changing a good route now, though.
He walks away, shooting you another one of those sparkling smiles as he goes. You pull out your earbuds and push play on your music before walking in the opposite direction to study. As you walk, you unfold the paper seeing his number at the bottom, a smile playing your lips as you read what’s above it.
You’re like a cactus. Beautiful, but you don’t make it easy for just anyone to get close. Good thing I like a challenge.
You shake your head and raise it, a smirk gracing your face when you place the note in the side pocket of your backpack.
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Monday comes and you’re finally comfortable enough to throw away the map. Your classes are all relatively in the same area on campus and you know your way around the side of campus you keep to from the running you did over the weekend. Things with Chojo were quiet, and you felt a mixture of relief and… irritation? What right did you have to be irritated when you were the one that turned him down? It’s exactly as you wanted, no distractions. Or was it? Because here you were at the library, doing your best to read through the links you saved for extra information during class, but the words blurred.
Your mind was filled with images of Chojo. The way the muscles in his arm and back had bunched and flexed as he wrote in his notebook during math, and thank God you sat a row behind him. One, for the fact that you could look at him easier, and two, he wouldn’t know you were looking at him unless he turned around, which he never did. You sigh, trying to reel in your thoughts as you lean back in the chair and rub your eyes.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Expecting a text from your family, you take it out quickly, but stop when you see it’s from an unsaved number. You unlock your phone and it opens to a picture of a beautiful, intricate tattoo of a cactus on someone’s forearm. The message underneath makes a blush rise to your cheeks, realizing quickly that it’s Chojo.
Unknown: Just got this. Reminds me of someone. ;)
No. Fucking. Way. He didn’t. He did not. You decide to mess with him.
Unknown: Really? How many people tell you that you remind them of a cactus??
Unknown: Actually… nevermind, I’m sure it’s a lot
Unknown: No wait! It’s Cho
Unknown: Haha. I’m laughing my ass off.
Me: Ahh Chojo. There’s no way you got a cactus tattoo. You’re fucking with me. And how did you get my number? I never texted you.
Unknown: *shrug emoji* A little investigation never hurt. But yes, it’s real. I’ve been looking forward to showing you since I got it Saturday, but you hurried out of class.
Me: I don’t believe you. You’re insane.
I shake my head as I hit send, but a small laugh tilts my lips. He’s a crazy bastard if that’s real. Messages still open, a new photo brightens your screen and your jaw hangs open. The camera captures him standing in a mirror. Shirtless. Sweatpants slung low on his hips, making the swirling tattoos at his hips peek out. Holy… fuck. His abs are toned and a deep V slides under his waistband. Your mouth feels dry. I knew he was a big guy, but goodness, he’s huge. His tattooed shoulders and chest are wide and span past the width of the mirror, but he holds his forearm out in front of him in the shot, the intricate cactus tattoo resting in its new home there.
Me: You’re fucking crazy.
This time when he sends a picture, he’s standing closer to the mirror and flexing his chest and abs. He wasn’t flexing before???
Chojo: Crazy for you, maybe. ;) I didn't get the tattoo for you, I'm not that obsessed. Yet. I'm from Arizona, and I got it to represent that. But the comparison still stands.
You can’t think of a reply. At least not a reply that would be snarky enough. All your snark was thrown out the window when you couldn’t tear your eyes from his long torso and the V that points like an arrow to his-
There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that you’ll be able to study now, but you stay for a while longer, feeling no shame when you open your phone every few minutes to look at the pictures he sent. Sexy emo bastard… already interfering with my studies… (As if you weren’t thinking of him even before he texted.) Deciding it’s time to get back home and relax, you pack your things and walk out to see the sun setting. The beautiful oranges and pink blushing the sky before fading to blues. You start down the stairs, but stop as a large figure catches your eye from a tree near the sidewalk. Chojo leans there, but pushes off the trunk when he looks up to see you heading out. As he approaches you, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans.
“Hey, you ignored my text,” he pouts playfully.
You ignore his attempt to play upset over you not replying, not wanting a reminder of the photo that would be pulled up still if you unlocked your phone. “Are you stalking me? You don’t give up, do you?” you sigh, he’s already under my skin.
“Guilty as charged, I guess. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk to you some more,” he says, a twinkle in his eye. Obviously he hadn’t been stalking you, but you made it very clear when he asked you for coffee everyday that you study after your last class. When you didn’t respond to his last text, he made a split second decision. Standing in front of you now, he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed that he came. “Were you so enamored by my photo that you couldn’t look away and had to cut studying short?” he jokes, but secretly, he hopes that’s the case. He’d love even an ounce of reassurance that you found him attractive.
Were the photos a bit much? Maybe. Did he have any shame? Hell no. But what he wouldn’t give to hear you say anything nice about them or the way he looked… He was fishing for compliments, he knew. But he couldn’t tell if this attraction was one sided. C’mon gorgeous, give me something. I’m dying here. Just a hint.
“I’ve got issues with other things invading my thoughts while trying to study,” I say with a shrug. Liar.
“That so? And what might those things be?” his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if he already knows. He stands close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating from his body. “Something… or rather someone? Like maybe a tall, tattooed and pierced, muscular guy?”
You refuse to let your cheeks heat. If only you knew, pretty boy. “Sure. Like tall, tattooed and pierced, muscular men being smothered in their own blood if they don't stop following me around,” you snap at him and pick up your pace. You are determined to stay focused on your studies. “Like murder. And hurting people. I'm very violent, you may just want to stay away.” You don't need any distractions, especially not one named- wait a damn second. Pierced? Where? Are his ears pierced? His face? And I just didn't see it? You turn your head toward him and sneakily run your eyes over him. I don't see any… He catches you staring and smirks, then sticks out his tongue and bites down on it, showing off the gunmetal bar that runs through it.
“Violent, huh? Is that supposed to scare me off? It's not working, for the record. And you must not have looked at the pictures very well, after all,” his eyes narrow at you. “Or you would've noticed these.” He lifts up his shirt to his collarbone and bares his lean torso to you. Oh for fuck's sake… How can you not look. Dragging your eyes from the deep, delicious looking V, up his abs to his chest, you stop. Small bars are pierced through his nipples, and given that they're a black metal against his pale skin, you should have been able to see them in the pictures. Only issue is your eyes had been drilling into the V burrowing into his sweatpants. Damn ripped asshole. I’ve never seen so many muscles on a torso…
“Impressive. You want a protein cookie?” you mock and end up giggling at your own joke. Chojo's laugh is deep as he finally takes in what you said. Your heart skips. His laugh is so pretty. “You just do not give up, do you?” You huff in frustration and pay him no mind as he continues to walk next to you.
Chojo grins, clearly enjoying your frustration. You're about to pass by an alley when he pulls you into it instead, gently puts your back to the brick building, and cages his arms around you to hide you from others walking the campus. He's too close. You can feel the warmth cascade over your body as his heat engulfs you, and his breath causes your hair to blow around lightly. He stares down at you with a small smile and says, “I just know what, and who, I want.”
“Holy fuck, you really can't just take the hint, can you?” you huff, feeling your frustration (and… arousal?) grow. Pull yourself together!
He smirks and brings his face closer. You can see every fleck of the different blues in his eyes, and the pretty purple color of the circles under his eyes that frame them. “The hint?” he purrs, “That you're terrified of how much you want me, too? That you're trying to play hard to get because you're scared of how fast this is all happening? Because trust me, darlin’, the feeling’s mutual.” His voice mocks a southern drawl as he speaks the last words. He wants so badly to see what your smile looks like. Hear what your laugh sounds like. C’mon, even a small smile?
You push him off you and he startles as his back hits the other brick wall behind him, not having expected you to be able to move him. She's a lot stronger than she looks… I like that. He laughs as he watches you jump away. His brows and the corner of his mouth raise as you start to speak, “Darlin’...” you mock him, “I can promise you this is completely one sided.”
When did I become such a liar… you hide your smile as you turn your back to him and start heading for your apartment. Chojo recovers quickly and follows you, rubbing at the spot on his chest where you pushed him back. A goofy smile is plastered on his face. The bastard is enjoying this! I mean… I guess I am, too.
“Prove it. If you really don't feel anything, then prove it. Have dinner with me. Just one date,” he knows he's basically begging. All that's missing is him getting down on his knees and kissing your feet. I'd do it, too… if you'd just. say. yes. I'd make a fool of myself for you.
“I just threatened you, basically telling you I'd make you drown in your own blood, and you're asking me out on a date? You really are insane,” but you can't stop the smirk that lifts your lips as you watch him. His eyes are pleading. You're feeling your carefully built walls tumble as you look up at him while he stays in step with you. “Holy fuck, if i agree will you leave me alone?” you mutter. Dammit.
“Yes, I promise. Just a simple dinner. I'll even let you pick the place. If after that you still want me to leave you alone, I will,” he vows. Chojo's eyes sparkle as he smiles down at you. Note to self, wear sunglasses when around Chojo. Dude's like a sunbeam.
“Ohhh no. You're the one begging me to go on a date with you. YOU'LL plan the entire thing. And let me go ahead and make you a promise,” you stop walking and turn to him, your eyes squinting. “I'm going to make you regret ever asking me out. You will never want to go out with me again, and I can assure you, I will still want you to leave me alone after.”
Chojo's grin widens, clearly amused by your words. He leans down into your space and smirks, “Deal. But I think you still don't get it. No matter how hard you push me away, I'll crawl back because I. Want. You.”
“I'm quite an evil bitch, so you'll probably change your mind,” you grin wickedly. Oh I am going to torment him. “Text me the details since you snuck around and got my number. I'll send you my address on Saturday and you'll pick me up. Just let me know what to wear and what time to be ready.” You turn your back to him and start walking to your apartment. A smile ghosts over your face. You love the banter with him. He seems to like his women mean. Perfect.
Chojo watches as you walk away, grinning like a maniac as he appreciates the sight of your figure. He pulls out his phone when you've disappeared from sight and texts his group chat.
Cho: Date is secured for Saturday. I had to beg her, almost on my hands and knees, but I think she's just playing hard to get.
Yu<3: yay! I knew it. facetime me later so we can pick out what you'll wear. :)
Yu<3: Kugisaki said that women like when men beg, so I think you've got a good shot, Cho!
Gumi: Yuji. she's being a perv again.
Yu<3: what? I don't get it.
Chojo shakes his head and smiles softly as he makes his way home to plan out a perfect date. I've got to make this a date she'll never want to forget. Chojo's eyes flash to a new text and he lets out a laugh when he reads,
Yu<3: oooohhhh. Kugisaki explained it. but now I really think you have a chance. call me later <3 love you, bro
