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#but its not like it matters for them right ?
gay-dorito-dust · 3 days
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Hey um if it's cool could I request, Welt, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gallager and Aventurine reacting to reader to questioning their interest in them?
An example: The confession
Them: I have feelings for you Reader: ... Um *shocked*.. I feel the same but.. *trails off* Them: but? Reader: *squints* you sure? About me? Please reconsider your choice. Them: ...
thank you if you decide to do this! No pressure though!
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Jing yuan would raise a brow before vaguely asking you to come with him somewhere he had been meaning to show you for a while and thought that now was the perfect time.
The place where he takes you was just like any other flower garden you’ve been to before but from the way the light glinted off of the waters surface, to the way the flowers blossomed in a variety of unique colours, and other small things like that made the flower garden look ethereal.
Jing yuan chuckled at your expression.
‘You see why I brought you here?’ He asks.
‘…no, not really, why?’ You replied, looking at him in confusion.
‘I’m trying to show you that while you may not think yourself as anything special, much like this flower garden, there are a multitude of unique things tailored to you that make you shine in the eyes of the ones who views you highly.’ He responded as he lends his hand out for a bird to perch on and softly smiled as it moved up to his shoulder where it sat comfortably, trying its hardest not to fall asleep.
‘For every flower is a beauty to behold regardless of their shapes, their size or their colour that even a daffodil can be considered of equal beauty of a roses in someone’s eyes.’ Jing Yuan continues, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see whether his words were sinking in. ‘And my flower believes themself to be a withering daffodil but to me, they’re a rose unlike any other. Stubborn, strong willed, but.’
‘But?’ You echoed, nervousness creeping through your veins as Jing Yuan moved in front of you and leant forward so that he was right next to your ear.
‘But they refuse to accept words of their worth and beauty from someone who cares about them very much, but I hope to change that soon enough, if they let me.’ He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulling away to plant a kiss to your forehead.
Dan heng
While he’s happy that you felt the same way towards him, but felt his heart sink when you told him to reconsider his feelings for you.
‘If you are not ready for a relationship, then I understand, but I wish that you wouldn’t look down upon yourself when you’re anything but what your mind is telling you that you are.’ He says as he holds your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes shone with concern. ‘Just know that I’ll always be by your side to resolve any issue you may have, for I do not wish for you to be burdened by this alone when I can help lessen it’s impact on you.’ He adds.
Dan Heng would do anything and everything in his power to make you see just how much you meant to him, even if it meant asking March to pull up pictures where his infatuation with you was glaringly obvious.
He would bring you poetry books and read out verses that perfectly describe his innermost thoughts and feelings towards you and how he views you on a daily basis. Dan Heng feels as though he could never convey just how truly unique and magnificent you were on his own. He’s tried but compared to the works of acclaimed poets, it just lacked fluidity in terms of the flow of words.
Everything else fades away when you entered his peripheral vision, almost as though he was made to notice your presence no matter where you were, only to just stare at you with a look that could only be akin to someone who had just found their other half after so long.
Welt would sit you down somewhere and want to talk about it because he truly didn’t think that these were your own words coming from your mouth.
He believes they were someone else’s and he hated that you had started believing this person’s words as reality, when they were the furthest thing from the truth in his eyes.
He wants to help you unlearn what everybody else has thought of you in the past because it doesn’t matter, their words hold no weight until you allow it to. No one’s perception of you was in any way shape or form a reflection of the real you, for every person you’ve ever had a positive effect on posses a different perceptions of you.
The only person who knew the real you was you but it was obvious to Welt that you might’ve forgotten who that version of you was by worrying yourself to death about the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. So Welt was more then happy to help you see that you were so much more then what you think.
He doesn’t know who wronged you in the past but they’ve left everlasting damage on your tender soul, but he was going to do everything he could in his power to show you the you that he sees every time upon seeing you.
Gallagher
‘I’ve got nothing to reconsider when it comes to you sweetheart.’ Gallagher was quick to tell you as he grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘But-‘ you started.
‘No ifs, ands or buts.’ He interrupts you. ‘You’re prefect the way you are and I won’t hear otherwise because I’ll always go out of my way to remind you as to why i care about you, okay?’ He says as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Just let me take care of you and get rid of those pesky thoughts residing in your head by telling them to fuck off.’
You couldn’t help but chuckle at this as you allowed yourself to find comfort in Gallagher’s side as you were greeted by his bodily warmth that made you into melting further against him. ‘I just don’t want to be a bother to you that’s all.’ You murmured, insecurity making your throat tightened, rendering it hard to swallow.
Gallagher felt his heart break for you as he brought his arms to your waist to rub soothing patterns into your side as he presses his face to the side of your head, pressed reassuring kisses there as he whispered sweet nothings as to why you were perfect, beautiful, sweet and caring of all whom you come across, whether they were deserving of it or not.
Aventurine
He understands more then you knew because the moment you admitted to liking him in the same breath as berating yourself, he was about to ask what was it about him that you liked exactly.
You were both in the same boat that was about to capsize from your shared self hatred for yourselves, but Aventurine would be damned if he let you think of yourself in any negative light when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of pure, genuine light for him since first introductions.
He’d much rather be the one drowning in self doubt than you.
He’d have you stand in front of a mirror and asks what you see.
‘Someone who’s lost themselves along the way,’ you answered solemnly, ‘someone who’s lost sight of who they once were because they were too caught up in the opinions of others and waiting on them hand and foot, only to revive nothing but scraps.’ You added and Aventurine couldn’t help but feel himself becoming infuriated, not at you but at the people who have made you feel as though you were lesser than, who made you feel as though you should be outcasted because you didn’t fit into their narrative.
However the sound of your sniffling brought him out of his need to get back at these people for you and saw that you were beginning to tear up and was quick to wipe them away before they fell. ‘Don’t weep for people who don’t have a heart, for they’ll always think themselves superior by materialistic means that they will inevitably loose to time and bad decisions.’ He tells you as he rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirrors reflective surface. ‘You on the other hand have something that they could never hope to obtain via money.’ He adds.
‘And what’s that?’ You asked, looking into his eyes and noting that despite their dullness, they were still the most beautiful and expressive pair of eyes you have ever seen.
‘Empathy, humility, compassion, kindness and an appreciation for the simple things that many overlook and possess the ability to see the beauty in broken things.’ Aventurine replies, his voice becoming soft towards the end, clearly referring to himself, as he held onto you tighter as though you’d slip from his grasp much like everyone else had. ‘So don’t compare yourself to others who should be looking towards you as an example instead.’
You moved your head to properly look at him, not use to seeing this side of him, so serious and determined to make you see reason. ‘You really mean that?’
Aventurine smiles as he kisses you on the nose, chuckling. ‘Of course! You’re my good luck charm, I’d be hopeless and in a whole lot of trouble without you.’ He says as he presses another kiss to your nose, adoring your expression as you scrunched up your face, muttering under his breath. ‘Cute.’
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redtsundere-writes · 2 days
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sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33
Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen
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king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader
Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.
Beginning. ← Previous |
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Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 
Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 
You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 
“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 
Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 
“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 
After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 
“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 
“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 
Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 
“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 
Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 
“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 
That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 
“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 
“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 
Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 
“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.
“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 
Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 
This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 
Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.
“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 
Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 
“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 
At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.
Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 
“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 
“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 
“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 
“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 
There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 
Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  
“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 
“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 
Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 
“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 
“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 
Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.
“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 
“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 
“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 
“She has potential.” 
“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 
“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 
Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 
The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 
“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 
“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.
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Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.
Order your own fanfic!
Masterlist.
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starseungs · 3 days
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lunchtime tea, served by yours truly. ksm.
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kim seungmin x fem!reader — getting dragged over to the student council office instead of the cafeteria was far from your lunchtime plans. too bad seungmin seemed to think otherwise.
genre/s — fluff, humor if it counts, historical fantasy, academy au, duke's son!seungmin x marquis' daughter!y/n • 1.3k words
warning/s — petty noble disputes, seungmin implies a nepotism plan (laughs nervously), both of them are in their second to the last year of academy = they're both around 21 !!
note — here's a short fic i whipped up as i finish take a shot ! yes, its inspired by those rofan manhwas with academy arcs/settings. im obsessed with those ngl
2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.
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“Would it really be such a crime to enjoy one peaceful lunch session, Your Grace?”
You sank down with a huff on the smooth velvety sofa propped in the middle of the spacious office room, not paying any mind to the way the door shut with a soft click despite your strong swing to open it earlier. A pair of footsteps other than yours echoed in the space, the flat, heavy heels of the figure’s shoes clacking with strong authority. Yet, you remained unfazed despite the strong aura permeating the enclosure—choosing to stand your ground with a click of a tongue.
Seungmin sighed at the sight of your demeanor. 
“And I believe it would be against academy ordinance for you to call me by that title within the campus premises, Lady Y/N.” He reprimands you with a low drawl before carefully taking a seat at his desk located front and center against a massive glass window, his silhouette strengthening as he leans forward to rest his arms on the desk. You could only whine in mockery at his reply.
“Boo,” you scoffed before crossing your arms and craning your head to stare at him. “Such a stickler for the rules, are you not?”
Seungmin hummed. “I suppose you may be right, but could I also offer you information on my father’s well-being?” He says with a tone implying sweetness, even if you knew otherwise. 
“The Duke is alive and well—yes, I am aware,” you pressed for a smile as innocent as you could manage, enjoying the way Seungmin’s formal facade fell apart slightly before getting gathered up once again. The young Lord cleared his throat before continuing the questionable exchange between the two of you.
“Therefore, we should not be having this conversation in the first place.”
“However, you are the heir to the dukedom, if I recall correctly?”
“Yes, you do.”
You then brought your hands together in a resounding clap at his answer, signifying a remarkable conclusion. “Then it is the same thing.”
Seungmin groaned tiredly at your unbelievable words. “It is clearly not—” he suddenly paused mid-sentence. You watched as his eyes narrowed with an inquisitive glint before he took an obvious intake of air. “I’m getting the slight inkling that you are doing this to raise my temper.”
A prominent laugh bubbled its way out of your throat. “I do find that side of you quite charming, yes.”
“I will pretend to not hear your comment, My Lady,” Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to subside his growing stress. “And I would like to inform you belatedly that a peaceful lunch should be the last of your priorities at the moment.”
The involuntary squawk that came out of you voiced your offense. “Well, this is surprising news, as I have not received any notice about a new dietary restriction!”
“It is not—” Seungmin caught himself again. You grinned mischievously at his obvious struggle before collecting yourself when you felt a pointed glare being sent in your direction. He exhaled heavily, “Proceeding with the matter at hand, are you aware of the number of complaints the Theta group has placed upon your name?”
“I do believe there has not been a single soul in this academy who has not,” you hummed in acknowledgement.
“My Lady, forgive me for being rude; however, the answer I was hoping for was to be about how you are planning on addressing this issue.”
“Oh,” you blinked. “Then, I plan to do nothing about the issue.”
A small thud was heard from Seungmin’s direction, prompting you to look over to see what had caused such a sound. Low and behold, the sight of the academy’s best student holding his head down towards the polished mahogany desk in defeat—rendering you unsure of what to do next. There had only been a few times in your entire lifetime that you had seen Seungmin completely shatter his dignified demeanor, and you had known the man since you were six. Now you fear that you had actually crossed a line. 
“Y/N,” he raised his head ever so slightly to lock eyes with you, his next order coming out as a plea. “Just explain why you poured a cup of tea over Lady Colette’s head.” 
“Then forgive me as well for my words. However, in my perspective, Theta is nothing but a pathetic excuse for an institutional social group,” you sighed, remembering the events of the tea party yesterday. “I do not know why they still prove to be the most popular social group for ladies when the Zeta group has always been better. Theta are barely anything worth more than a babble of obnoxious noble daughters who prefer to place themselves on a higher pedestal than they deserve. Lady Colette was terrorizing a freshman from a country-side barony. I only did my best to stop her, considering the fact that mere words seemed to hold no interest for her.”
Seungmin raised a brow. “Quite an interesting way of describing them, don’t you think?”
“Well, I did send my apologies before doing so, did I not?” You smiled back as part of your reply, proudly this time. Seungmin could only scoff, albeit greatly amused.
“You have got to stop trying to outsmart me in times like these, Y/N,” he said, standing up. “You of all people should know how much I lack the ability to harbor ill feelings towards you.”
It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at his surprisingly favorable response. For holding the most coveted position of justice available for students in this academy, Seungmin was surely pressing less strongly on your faults. Perhaps it was a good thing that you still made sure to cool the tea before you dumped it on that Marquis’ pompous daughter.
“Playing favorites, are we now, Mr. President?”
Seungmin laughed openly this time. Talk about a change of mood. “I see that you have now chosen to switch to a different formality, yet again,” he mused on his way towards your figure on the couch. “See, you wouldn’t have this much trouble with other noble ladies if you just joined the student council.”
“Here you go again with your offer,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You of all people should know exactly why I cannot take a position in the council, Seungmin.”
“In my opinion, it would be seen as a reasonable training ground for the future Duchess.”
“You just like the way I do paperwork!” You expressed disbelief at his plan’s implication. “And high society might as well burn me into ashes, thinking that I take advantage of my position as your betrothed.”
Seungmin sighed dreamily, completely disregarding your latter comment. “I do love the way you do your paperwork. Such a perfect pair to my work ethic,” he says, sitting comfortably beside you with a relaxed exhale. “Yes, I genuinely do not see what is so wrong about the offer.”
“Seungmin,” you scowled at him. “Do you wish to put a stain on your reputation?”
“Oh, look at you scolding me as if we had already stated our vows,” Seungmin pinched your cheek in a tease. You attempted to push his hand away, only for him to grab it and intertwine your fingers, leaving you breathless as he placed a feathery kiss on your knuckles. “My dearest fiancee, I do not care what others may think of me. If I am able to, I will give anything you ask for without a silver of hesitation.” He gazed directly at your eyes, pupils swimming with unknown desire.
“My Duchess only deserves the best, after all.”
You pursed your lip at his intimate actions, feeling your stomach do crazed flips at his undivided attention. “It is quite concerning how biased you seem to be when it comes to this matter, Mr. President,” you gave in, letting yourself fall on his broad shoulder. “What have I even done to warrant your unyielding obsession with me?”
Seungmin’s chest rumbled in delight, the lull comforting your mind glazed over with his presence.
“Exist. Now, what do you think of becoming Vice President next year?”
“Serve me tea first, and I'll think about it.”
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mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶
@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix
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laikascomet · 2 days
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also some clarity for the askbox
1) questions that will be answered by the comic but have yet to be will be deleted. this is the rule im calling 'let me cook' because all will be revealed if you wait patiently for your delicious meal
2) questions that dont serve any interest to other readers will (typically) be answered privately. i do really appreciate all the kind words - i try my best to answer these kinds of asks when they come in, but if i dont get to them right away i promise i still appreciate them!
3) questions are meant to be directed to the characters to answer! while idm answering some questions about my process or art, the ask box is meant to go to the laikas characters so i can draw responses. its actually been so long since ive gotten one like that i dont know if people realize that. (which is okay! thats why im clarifying)
4) though it has been very sparse, any asks that are innapropriate will result in being blocked from the comic's blog and my main and art account as well. innapropriate truly just means any violent or explicitly sexual content (saying 'i think laika is cute/pretty/hot/etc!' or 'i want yues hand in marriage' [all things i have recieved already] are A Okay 🫡)
all i ask is that people keep in mind, while laikas does deal with more serious subject matter this is still an all ages comic. additionally, im just one person writing this comic myself. some of the things people send me can be rather distressing sometimes... all im asking is people please remember i am a person too, and i want to keep writing my comic for you all! i cannot offer much more than that.
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storiesoflilies · 3 days
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metanoia
synopsis: (n.) the journey of changing one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life. Or alternatively, the story of two souls who bond over drinking green tea. w.c: 17k (oops)
pairing: college!toji fushiguro x f!reader (noncurse!AU)
warnings: bucketloads of fluff and sprinkle of angst. descriptions of past bullying (toji didn’t have a nice childhood) SMUT, so minors please do not interact! nipple stimulation, p in v sex (it’s all rather romantic i must say), unprotected sex (these college students need to stop being so horny). a lovely little slow burn romance for the soul. swearing.
a/n: based on this request, and it’s finally here nonie!! a piece of my heart has been woven into this piece, so i hope everyone enjoys! to all my fellow STEM students, this one’s also for you <3 toji art by @/kakashismain, dividers by @/benkeibear. spotify playlist. ao3.
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there was nothing else to do or say about fate, other than it was fixed. no matter how hard you might try to change it, she never believed it could be.
life was a series of scrawling numbers and greek letters, written by the hands of angels and god. it was never going to a straight line; rather, it was a scattered mess of ever-changing parabolas, dipping and rising above the axis like surfers on the waves of the sea.
but sometimes, just sometimes, you can hear what has been written about you. if she tuned into things really hard, and listened beyond the banal noises that came with the plane of existence all humans exist in, she could hear it. the scratching of a pen on paper, or perhaps a feather quill on a scroll? yes, that sounded more like it. she could hear the angels solving the puzzle they had been given to balance the equation of her life. things must be solved in a certain series of formulas to become a proven, tangible equation. the angels were still trying to prove her life, it seems, and it was quite simply astounding that they were still working so hard and figuring it out.
but the irrational part of her couldn’t help but think, what if they were bored? she could certainly understand; there were many times when she’d been made to solve trivial questions, such as calculating the speed of an aircraft, and she’d wished she could be anywhere but there in that moment. did the angels think that about her equation? would they ever get bored and just give up on her?
with that, the cold, beautiful reality that is life becomes apparent. none of it was personal, and she had to live it right up until the equation was balanced and the last drop of ink ran dry.
it was golden hour. that time of the day when the sun’s light softened, casting long shadows of buildings and trees across the pavement. warm honey rays filtered in through the window, refracting through the clear plastic display that showcased the traybakes of the day. the cafe was quiet now, just after the hustle and bustle of regular work hours. most of the patrons were university students, drawn to the cafe for its convenient location near the main campus, where they downed their coffees like it was a drug to be taken multiple times a day.
she couldn’t judge them; she was included in that typical student caliber too, but instead of drinking her weight in murky brown caffeine, she preferred it to be of the green kind. more specifically, a cup of green tea took her brainpower much farther than its more popular, teeth-staining counterpart. and the perks of working for the very same cafe?
every cup of it was free and unlimited use for her; something she took advantage of every single shift.
the job couldn’t be more perfect for her. although her shifts were daily, they were always scheduled during these quiet golden hours that extended into the stretch of moonlight, accommodating her university hours. choosing to study a degree in physics was certainly no joke, and she was grateful for any spare moment of peace to work on her assignments and reports. her manager never minded, leaving her to riddle away at her numbers, which went straight over their head, trusting her to still serve any customers coming in and close up the shop.
it was absolutely fine. a simple, predictable routine – an equation she was perfectly happy to solve every single day.
until it wasn’t so easy.
| Φ |
some time later that night, well after the sun had dipped below the horizon and the moon had finally peeked out from behind dusty grey clouds, the delicate bell above the doorway tinkled. it snapped her straight out of her trance, where she had been listening to the music of mathematical constants singing to her of defined, set values from the sheet of paper leaning against the wooden clipboard of ‘speciality beverages’.
it was him.
toji fushiguro.
the dark haired boy she had seen around campus, although he probably hadn’t noticed her flitting about between lectures; unusually quiet and unfairly attractive. the boy who obviously frequented the gym close by, and came here to her little cafe afterwards. that much was obvious from the way the wet strands of hair stuck to his forehead, the spicy smell of whatever body wash he used, and the all black attire he always wore. the very same same boy who she’d curiously asked about, only to be told that he kept to himself and didn’t really speak to anybody.
and she believed it. she had never seen him walking with anybody else, or even bringing anyone along to his daily study sessions at the cafe. the way he grimaced at loud, boisterous students, typical of their age group, told her enough. that toji fushiguro didn’t seem to like people very much, and was perfectly happy with not being liked in return.
“hello,” she meekly piped out, her voice barely above a squeak, because toji was quite an intimating figure. “what would you like?”
it was a silly question. she knew he would order his usual – green tea, just like her. but it was a question she asked regardless, just in case his routine equation had somehow changed. you never know, after all. perhaps the angels had miscalculated or wrote down a wrong number.
“green tea, please,” he grunted, not quite meeting her eyes. he then sauntered off to his usual table by the window, and began pulling out his study material from his canvas bag.
she was grateful for the simplicity; there was nothing worse than preparing an elaborate order in the quiet of the night and disturbing the peace. brewing green tea was something she knew like the back of her hand, easy and peaceful like breathing. she strained the herbs as she poured it into a delicate ceramic cup, which the cafe insisted on serving it in, and brought it over to him.
toji muttered a small thank you, and she politely smiled, even though he never once looked at her. walking back to her spot behind the counter, she placed the clipboard on her crossed legs, and resumed her musings. such was their routine, both of them in their respective worlds within the same plane that was the cafe, sipping their green tea and whittling away at their education.
she almost felt honored that of all the cafes open late into the night, this was the one he picked to come to. even if the bitter, realistic part of her insisted that it was only because it was conveniently close to the gym. still, their equations followed the exact same sequence of numbers at that time every day, and she found that positively wonderful.
it was nearing 10:30p.m. when she finally finished solving her report, and she guessed that toji was completely engrossed in whatever he was working on to not notice the time. he would have normally packed up his things by now, ordering one more cup of tea before heading off wherever it was he went to in the dead of night. probably back to his accommodation, because he just didn’t seem like the type to show up to late-night parties full of booze and sweat.
she didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. the logical part of her brain was overthinking everything because this just wasn’t the norm for them. toji was supposed to have packed his things, leave just the exact amount of money on the counter, and walk out without another word. she was considering not even saying anything at all, biding her time until he simply realized himself and walked out.
until her legs moved of their seemingly own accord, perhaps a result of the numbers being messily rubbed away and rewritten, straight towards him. he never even heard her; his black wired earbuds were firmly in his ears, and she wondered what sort of music it was that toji fushiguro listened to. she quickly tapped his shoulder, withdrawing her hand back to her side as quickly as she could. toji almost jumped out of his skin as he turned to acknowledge her.
“sorry,” she apologized, looking pointedly over at the clock on the wall above him. “but we’re closing soon.”
toji frowned, as if he didn’t really believe her, until he glanced at the digital clock on his laptop and jumped into action. “sorry,” he said rather awkwardly, hurriedly packing up his things as she stood at a respectful distance away.
“it’s no problem at all. please, take your time,” she replied as politely and delicately as she possibly could, looking away as he messily scraped his papers and notebooks into his bag.
his chair scraped uncomfortably across the floor, and he heaved his bag over his shoulder as he shoved a hand into his pocket, fishing for the exact change he needed. for a second, she thought, hoped, that he would hand it to her. but no, he almost jogged over to the counter and placed it right next to the black mug of green tea beside her clipboard.
toji paused, momentarily staring at her mug. she felt a flush of embarrassment, as if even he knew she wasn’t supposed to be drinking it out of a large mug. but he said nothing and rushed outside.
everything fell back into place, as according to the laws of the world, and seemed right again.
| Φ |
there was something inherently uncomfortable about contemplating the future.
as summer rapidly approached, with only about four months left of the semester, she found herself forced to confront equations she didn’t want to solve. it was during the night, when she should have been fast asleep, that she really tried to listen in on the angels scribbling away at her numbers. it was cheating really, an easy way out to hear the answers of what she was supposed to do. perhaps if the end of her final year wasn’t so dreadfully final, then it would have been easier to formulate her own answers.
well, they weren’t really her own, but anyway.
she was in her own little bubble tonight, absentmindedly sipping her tea and tapping her pen against the clipboard. she knew the answer to the problem at hand, some menial question about what angle a beam of light would reflect at, and so she could afford to daydream and listen to the music of the numbers singing in her head.
it was quite easy to imagine a picture being painted from the numbers. why bother calculating the angle when you could visualize the light bending instead? that was what mattered in the end, not just the face value of the number itself, but the tangible reality they represented. there was no point in scribbling away at the numbers if you couldn’t paint a picture in your mind of the light itself or feel the thumping of sound waves reverberating through the surrounding medium.
there was only her and toji in the cafe now. he’d breezed past her earlier on the way in straight to his seat, dumping his bag on the table with the air of a student who was beyond fed up with their lot. she knew what it looked like; she’d seen it too many times throughout the years and had been through that position herself.
she tried not to make it obvious she was looking at him, or admiring the way his arms moved in the tight compression shirt he wore, the way his wet hair was slightly slicked back today, and the way his annoyance sparked a beautiful flame of green in his eyes.
he looked over at her, and she quickly looked away.
dammit.
she heard his footsteps approaching her, but her embarrassment forced her not to look at him. instead, she focused heavily on pretending to be stuck on the paper in front of her.
“hey, uh, can i get a green tea, please?” he asked, his voice deep and undeniably addictive.
“yes, of course!” she replied swiftly, putting on her best customer service voice to shield her embarrassment as best as she possibly could.
toji shifted his feet from side to side, his hands in his pockets, and mumbled, “could i possibly have it in a mug, or something? it’s just… the teacups are really small.”
a deviation in the curve, an unexpected variable. she answered anyway, perhaps a little unsurely, “oh, sure, yeah. no problem at all. is this one fine?” she lifted her mug awkwardly off the table, and toji looked at it and nodded.
“yeah, that would be great. is it, uh, more expensive?” he asked, and the way he asked it made her heart ache, as if he was ashamed of having to in the first place.
she waved her hand at him, playing it off like a silly unnecessary question. “oh no, not at all. don’t worry about it.”
toji seemed visibly gladdened at this, the tension in his face releasing as his eyes brightened. he stood there, swinging on the balls of his feet, and she was quite surprised he was waiting for her to finish brewing the tea instead of bringing it over to him. she had to steady the slight tremor in her hand as he watched her brew the tea with practiced precision. after what seemed like an eternity, she placed the mug on a small plate and carefully handed it to him.
“thanks,” he said quietly, his eyes fixated on the mug and the thin wisps of steam wafting from it. then, like an afterthought that was actually painfully thought out, he added, “appreciate it.”
she could have sworn the corner of his lip lifted, and she almost lost her footing as she sat back down on her stool. though she knew it was impossible, it seemed as if time had been stuck in that moment, the laws of physics crying out for some sense of normalcy to resume.
and so she cleared her throat, pulling free time from where its coat was stuck on the doorknob. “no worries. let me know if you need anything else.”
but he was already walking back to his seat, firmly slotting back the numbers and variables into the places they were supposed to be.
newton’s first law of motion states that an object at rest or uniform motion will continue to stay that way unless acted upon by a net external force.
or the law of inertia, as it was also called, and she much preferred that instead. it was what she thought of every time she saw toji making his way to the door of the cafe from the window, taking large, purposeful strides like he knew where he always wanted to go at all times. he was that object in uniform motion, his life seemingly constant without any real deviations. she thought of it every time he walked out of the door too, and wondered if there would ever be anything significant enough to achieve a large enough force to change his trajectory.
so what large enough force had been applied to make him finally ask for a change to how he drank his tea? maybe he had never considered it before, never realized there was any other option other than the abysmally tiny teacup he had used before. perhaps the fact that he had stopped and seen her mug the night before had opened up new possibilities for him. whatever it was, it didn’t really matter, because he looked so much more at ease now that he wasn’t hanging on for dear life to a teacup too small for those hands of his.
those big, attractive hands, with good, strong veins running through them.
toji looked up at her from behind his laptop.
the tip-taps of her pen became just a notch louder, and she bit her lip, almost crossing her eyes as she focused a little too hard into the hole of the letter ‘a’ in the word ‘angle’.
dammit.
| Φ |
it was march, and the cherry blossoms that grew around campus were now blossoming in full swing.
what little free time she had between university work, endless laboratory reports, and working at the cafe, was spent walking around the town and parks. while hearing the songs of physics and numbers was her way of life, sometimes it was nice to wind down and appreciate the beauty of biology and chemistry. to see how the rain that fell from the skies was soaked up by the weed flowers thriving in the cracks of the pavement. they were tiny little warriors, persevering in the face of the hundreds of people who surely walked this path, avoiding death by being crushed.
the air was cool, and it was late enough in the day to make it feel much cooler than it should have been. she rubbed her arms through her jacket and picked up the pace. it was a week break in the semester, and it was much busier than it should have been for that time of the day. her manager had offered her more hours to work during the break, and she had mistakenly accepted the offer instead of taking some time for herself to do what she liked.
she entered the cafe, the little bell chiming, and smiled at her colleague, who seemed rather grateful that they weren’t alone to deal with the swarm of students enjoying a relaxing coffee. it was rather different from the anxious energy that usually accompanied students in here, but it was a welcome change to see unburdened smiles before the exam season hit them all in full merciless force.
together, they took on the onslaught of orders from all the customers walking into their quaint little cafe in the middle of campus. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d made such complex teas, brewing flavor combinations she couldn’t even concoct in her wildest dreams. by the end of the rush, with her colleague having finished their shift, she was left in a frazzled state of tea stains and sticky sugary syrup.
and that is precisely when toji fushiguro decided to walk through the door.
she almost froze, a mixture of shock and embarrassment washing over like a bucket of ice-cold water. why, she’d never seen him in the cafe while the sun was still in the sky, and he wasn’t even dressed in his usual fitness attire either. instead, it was a black jumper and jeans. this was most certainly not part of the equation at all; she had never even considered to calculate the probability of such an event occurring.
“hey,” he greeted, as casual as the jeans he was wearing, while fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.
“hi,” she answered, dusting off some imaginary dust from her apron because she didn’t know what else to do with her hands. “the usual?”
toji seemed somewhat surprised at this. “yeah, please.”
she couldn’t lie; it was such a welcome relief to make something so simple amidst the chaos that was the ever-changing trends of beverages. had the universe written an additional formula just to provide her with just a moment’s respite? or was it the law of attraction being employed?
no, that was surely wishful thinking. there was no way that toji fushiguro had anything in common with her.
“are you sitting in or taking away?” she prompted, the extra words slipping through her lips.
he thought about it for a second before nodding his head, “uh, yeah, takeaway please.”
“no problem,” she replied smoothly, amazed at how well she was deviating from their usual interactions, and poured the tea into a disposable cup. “there you go.”
toji mumbled a ‘thank you’ as he carefully placed the coins on the counter, his hands completely enveloping what she would have once considered a large cup.
what compelled her to say the following words, she didn’t really know, but she called out in a hopefully not-so-loud voice as he turned to leave, “enjoy the blossoms!”
just why? why would you say that?
she was even more mortified when toji simply walked out the door without sparing her a second glance. the universe was cruel for adding that into the equation, and she could have sworn, to add further insult to injury, that two girls had watched their exchange and were snickering.
enjoy the blossoms? stupid, stupid, stupid!
| Φ |
for the rest of the day, she felt as if the second law of thermodynamics very much applied to her.
as she recounted her absolutely horrific exchange with toji, she felt the heat of the universe pressing down on her isolated being, causing her atoms inside of her to bounce of the walls that was her skin, sending her into a more and more disorganized chaotic state of existence. she actually hoped for once that the deviance of the otherwise constant line would continue to do so, and that toji wouldn’t come to the cafe later on that night. then she could resume solving the equation as it was meant to be solved for the next night, and she could continue on as if nothing ever happened in the first place.
so when their routine did end up resuming its normalcy, and toji walked into the cafe with his dark wet hair and canvas bag, she was too mortified to even speak to him, despite him being the only customer in the shop. she got straight to work brewing him his tea, avoiding even looking anywhere near him as he set his things down at the table.
her lack of attention, for once, almost caused a head-on collision.
“hey, oh shit! sorry,” toji cussed, even though it was completely her fault, as he stopped whatever momentum he had in his body from crashing into her.
she hissed as the scalding tea splashed onto her fingers. “oh, no, i’m sorry! are you alright?”
“yeah, don’t worry about it.”
with a wobbly, quivering lip, she went around him and placed his mug on the table, being careful to avoid placing the wet bottom anywhere near his papers. it was there she caught a glimpse of some messily scrawled-out calculations on a piece of scratch paper, and her brain immediately started to sing.
no, don’t stare. it’s rude.
“sorry again,” she whispered, looking straight at the ground and being careful to not step in his way again.
toji never even made a sound, and she didn’t dare to look up to see if he was looking at her. she ran her finger under some cold water before taking her usual seat at the counter, and picked up where she left off on summarizing her lectures. it was perfectly quiet now, save for the scratching of her pen on paper and toji typing away on his keyboard. this was peaceful, easy, and– hold on. why could she hear the sound of the music?
“hey, sorry to interrupt,” toji interjected, making her jump. “do you have any sandwiches or something left?”
“oh! no, i’m sorry, what’s on display is what’s left,” she answered shakily, putting her pen down on the counter. “i, um- the protein balls are pretty decent, if you like that sort of thing.”
“oh, sure. yeah,” he murmured, looking at the several flavors that were available. “I’ll take the, uh, peanut flavor. that any good?”
she smiled softly, despite the throbbing sensation in her finger. “yeah, it’s not bad. you want two?” he nodded, and she wrapped them both up in a paper bag as he procured out coins from his pocket.
toji dug around some more, patting down his pockets to make sure there was definitely nothing lingering in there, and his stomach audibly growled. the air became a touch too awkward, and she stared at the sad-looking change on the counter. she slid the bag over to him with quiet understanding, and gave him the kindest smile she possibly could.
“hey, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” she encouraged. “sorry, i should have said that from the beginning.”
toji shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “oh no, i couldn’t do that. sorry, i’ll just leave it. i thought i had enough change.”
she pushed the bag further towards him. “it’s fine, i insist. please.”
he slowly took the bag, as if he wasn’t sure that it was real, or that it was maybe going to bite him. “thanks,” he said quietly, and retreated back to his seat, packing up his things, while she sat there trying to will her atoms back into their rightful place.
“thanks again,” toji rumbled softly as he held the door halfway open. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”
“o-oh yeah! yeah, see you tomorrow,” she stuttered back.
with that, he closed the door behind him, the bell tingling a beautiful farewell for him, and she was left with the atoms of her thumping heart completely dispersing into the atmosphere as she frantically tried to claw them back down.
| Φ |
tomorrow came and went, and they had settled into a slightly different flow of their routine, although the core essence remained the same.
instead of waiting for her to bring over his tea, toji now waited at the counter for her to hand him a large, steaming mug of his fix. they never spoke anymore than what they did before, but there was something that had changed between them. something so subtle that it couldn’t be defined properly, but she knew it was there, and she hoped toji knew it too.
it was april now, and the flurry of students cramming for their exams in may were in full swing. when she wasn’t at the cafe, she was holed up in her shared accommodation, buried underneath a blanket that may as well have been a black hole swallowing her whole. there, she studied for the last set of exams she would ever have to sit at university, but she tried not to dwell on that fact.
not that she didn’t study at the cafe, but toji’s presence added an extra dynamic that made it difficult to focus as well as when she was alone. despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but constantly glance at him when she was confident he wasn’t looking. right now, she could tell he was silently stressing over his exams too. spending so long in silence with another person meant she could tell the slight quirks in his face that signalled a changed in trajectory of emotion.
currently, the deep frown lines etched in his forehead meant that he was monumentally stuck on something. he’d been like that ever since he powered up his laptop and stared at the screen, the dim light casting an artificial, cold glow on his face.
once again, she didn’t know what compelled her to do what she did next. maybe it was the fact she knew he had barely touched his tea, and it was surely cold by now. or maybe it was the desire to momentarily distract him from his frustration by bringing him a warm, fresh brew. whatever it was, her body was moving according some new formula the angels had applied, and she found herself simply walking over without saying anything and placing a piping hot mug next to his laptop.
“huh? oh, thanks,” toji said slowly, daze-like, as if he wasn’t sure she was real and doing this.
she smiled softly, quickly glancing at the scratch paper in front of him, and oh no – he wasn’t composing the music correctly at all.
“that isn’t the answer,” she stated simply, looking back up at him. he frowned again, momentarily confused, until she pointed at his paper and said, “you’ve calculated this wrong. that isn’t the right equation to use.”
toji looked back down at his paper, sighing softly, and rubbed his face as he seemed to sink deeper and deeper into his chair. she couldn’t understand it; there was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of in getting a question wrong. she’d done it before herself many times, and more than likely would continue to do so.
“sorry, i-uh, i’m not very good at mathematics,” he mumbled shyly, and her heart started to crumble like a biscuit.
she pulled her pen out of her pocket and clicked it once. “no need to be sorry. do you want me to show you how to do it?”
toji nodded wordlessly, and slid the paper over to her, angling the laptop so she could see the question displayed. it was about calculating the speed of an athlete's arm as they threw a ball through the air, but he hadn’t used the correct equation, nor the correct standard units. she quickly wrote out every step of how to solve it, did a final check that her mental calculations were correct against his gray calculator, and slid the paper back to him.
“there, be careful with your units and don’t forget to include them. most of my professors have strict marking against not writing the proper ones, i don’t know about yours, but it might be better to be safe than sorry,” she explained, her throat tightening as he intently looked at her working out.
it felt personal on another sort of level, and strangely intimate.
he seemed to be taking his time studying it, with a slightly blank look, as if what she had done was still going well over his head. “yeah, good point. thank you,” was all he mustered, and he tilted his head at the scratch paper.
“do you want me to explain anything?” she prompted, half expecting him to pretend that he understood everything. that would have been typical of a student at university - faking it until they somehow made it.
so she was pleasantly surprised, but not at all unwilling to explain it when toji nodded again, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. she tried to recall how her teachers in high school had taught her these concepts, trying to adapt their tone of voice: patient and understanding. she leaned over to be more at eye level at him, trying to seem less intimidating, and their close proximity was sending her brain into overdrive.
“i hope this makes more sense now,” she said as she wrapped up the explanation.
toji’s lips formed a small ‘o’ shape, and the scar gracing them resembled the greek letter phi, but with the line running over to the right side instead of the middle. if she didn’t need anymore proof that the boy sitting in front of her was perfect, then the angels had just thrown in the winning factor.
phi, the perfect golden constant, now belonged in her mind only to toji fushiguro.
“uh, yeah actually,” he hummed, seemingly appreciative, his eyes sparkling against the dim lighting of the cafe. “thanks so much.”
she couldn’t help it, but she grinned widely. “no problem at all.”
she started to walk away, biting her lip when she turned her back to him, already feeling the bitter sting of disappointment that things would probably be back to normal after yet another deviation. until toji called out, “you’re really good at this. what do you study?”
“physics,” she replied, hoping the shock wasn’t too evident in her voice. “what about you?”
“P.E.,” he answered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. she had to try very hard not to stare at how nice his biceps looked. “i stupidly decided to add a sports biomechanics module as my optional one. kinda regretting it now.”
toji chuckled halfheartedly, and she almost swooned, but opted to tilt her head to the side and say, “oh, but don’t you find it fascinating? it’s the numbers behind the real output of an athlete.”
“oh, well i never really thought about it that way.” he seemed to be genuinely pondering her outlook on the matter, staring hard at the numbers before him, and she felt the blood rising to her cheeks. toji looked back up at her and smiled a devastatingly handsome smile. “i suppose it makes sense for you to think like that.”
she didn’t really know how to reply to that except an, “i guess so,” and then added a polite follow-up of, “what sort of sport do you, then?”
“judo and jujutsu,” toji replied smoothly and completely casually. “i train at the gym before i come here.”
“oh yeah? that’s quite intense.”
“not so much if you enjoy it, really.”
“easy for you to say. you’re obviously in much better shape than the rest of us.”
she almost cringed externally at that.
obviously much better shape? why on earth would you say obviously, stupid?
but toji only chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “hard work, i guess.” he mumbled, staring back at his paper.
she glanced up at the time, noting that it was almost time to close. “well, I'm sorry, but you might have to practice it yourself at home.”
he looked panicked for a second, his eyes darting over to the clock. “oh, yeah. probably.” and started to slowly pack up his things.
she didn’t want to observe him anymore than she already had, so she busied herself by washing their mugs and quickly wiping down the counter for the morning shift, while toji was taking his time neatly packing away his things. was it wishful thinking that perhaps he was stalling. whether it was or wasn’t, she left him to it, switching off the lights everywhere except at the entrance. she swept her eyes over the cafe to make sure she hadn’t missed anything before heading out.
toji stood beside the door, his eyes flitting about anywhere but her, obviously waiting for her to finish locking up. she tried to ignore the fluttering in her chest and smiled awkwardly at him as he finally met her gaze. he shuffled outside before she did, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the nights sky, the silver moon shining between stringy wisps of clouds.
he looked like a scene straight from a movie – a movie where a beautiful boy was up against the weight of the world. she could see it all clearly now: his scuffed up trainers, canvas bag with dirt stains scraping the bottom of it, the hole in his shirt near the hem. and yet, she knew he had real strength, the quiet sort of kind, that would completely surprise anybody that decided to come at him.
she locked the door behind her, the keys jangling, disturbing the relative quiet of the street. the distant whooping of boisterous students, no doubt drinking and partying away their stress, could be heard a little ways off into the distance. the bright light of the 7-11 across the streets flickered, and she briefly considered buying some cheap dinner before heading home.
she cleared her throat and gave him a small smile. “well, good luck studying.”
toji breathed out a half-hearted laugh. “thanks, i’ll need it.”
“if you’re still having trouble with your calculations, you can always ask me tomorrow,” she reassured, feeling bold enough to assume that his equation would continue to equate to hers.
he seemed to hesitate, as if debating something within his head, and replied, “yeah, sure.” but his tone left much to be desired, and she was already kicking herself for being so direct. “sounds good.”
she bit her lip and mumbled a weak ‘goodnight’ before walking straight into the 7-11 to escape.
| Φ |
the next night in the cafe, after quite a long day of punching numbers into her calculator and her eyes swimming with all sorts of symbols, she was contemplating the sheer power of a supernova explosion. it was golden hour, and toji had arrived much earlier to study. his deviations from the norm weren't so jarring anymore, and she’d almost come to sort of expect them at this point. he’d actually met her eyes as she prepared his tea, and even offered her a smile and a ‘thank you’.
the time passed on quickly, and soon enough, it was just her, toji, and two other customers – fellow students – inhabiting the same area. it was around 9:17p.m., the usual time for it to be a sacred silence. so when four boys staggered through the door, the bell cried out aggressively from the force of them nearly ripping open the door, completely tearing her from whatever daydreams she had been lost in.
they were cruel, uncaring about her or the other patrons they were disturbing with their raised voices and boisterous behavior. she kept her cool, not letting their jeers and sly comments get to her as she prepared their orders, wanting to get them out of the cafe as soon as she possibly could. one of them was particular unnerving, staring at her more than the others did, a creepy smirk on his lips and dangerous glint in his eyes. he was like a black hole, and she felt as if she was about to be swallowed alive.
she felt like she couldn’t breath, as if her body didn’t remember the biomechanical process to allow her to expand her lungs and fill them with sweet air. were the angels in serious danger of their calculations becoming completely wrong? was her equation to become something twisted and tragic by the end of the night?
when the group left, the evil boy had glanced over his shoulder to give her one last indecipherable look before he took off at a run after his friends. she exhaled shakily, willing her body to remember how to breath, and decided to distract herself by cleaning any and all random nooks and crannies she could find in an effort to distract herself.
oh how she hated them those stupid, idiotic boys – and that their words and manners had such an impact on her.
she’d worked herself into such a state that she hadn’t even noticed toji standing awkwardly at the counter until she turned to sip at her ice-cold tea, and almost yelped in surprise.
“hey,” toji greeted gently, delicate raindrops against a pane of glass. “it’s eleven.”
and so it was as she noted the time on the clock. she wiped her brow and discarded the now completely blackened cleaning cloth into the rubbish. “sorry, i’ll just get the keys now. you head on.”
“no, it’s okay,” he hummed. “take your time. i’ll be outside.”
when she finally finished the usual locking-up routine, toji had resumed that vision of perfection from the previous night, and it was almost impossible to even consider, but he was even more dreamy than before. toji had to have been carved by michealangelo; born of marble and beauty, and forced to to live in this plane of existence. in some rural countryside of japan, at a public university campus, surrounded by bog-standard students trying to scrape through life.
she felt he didn’t really belong here, as if he was already slipping through her fingers, even though he never really was between them to begin with.
“see you tomorrow,” she said in farewell, giving him a small wave and already walking away.
the loud thuds against the pavement reverberated the immediate vicinity, and toji huffed as he caught up to her, “hey, uh, whereabouts do you live?”
“not too far, about a ten-minute walk away,” she replied, almost floored at the fact that he had just run after her. “why?”
“just… you ok if i tag along? i could use the company.”
“…sure?”
they walked side by side in silence, and her mind was going into complete overdrive. she was trying so hard not to be completely floored that somehow, on a random April night, toji fushiguro was walking her home. it was obvious that he was lying about company – perhaps not an outright lie, but it definitely wasn’t the whole truth. time seemed to have passed quicker than it should have, and before she knew it, they had arrived at her accommodation. toji seemed to hover, looking over his shoulder, his body seemingly tense.
“well, this is me,” she announced, jingling her keys for good measure. “huh, are you okay?”
toji was glaring into the darkness, into the twisted labyrinth of twists and turns in between buildings, only really half-listening. “yeah,” he replied tersely, his fists clenching. “you’re staying at home tonight, right?”
she nodded nervously, suddenly hyperaware of the deep, foreboding inkiness of the night. “mhm.”
he turned to her, verdant eyes simmering with something nearly as dark as the sky. “good, i’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“bye, toji.”
but he was already striding off into the labyrinth, off to face the dirt and coal thrown at him, when he himself was made of marble and gold.
| Φ |
a week after toji had walked her home, she had her first final exam, during which the whole time her thoughts were consumed by him.
of toji fushiguro.
toji and his eyes of forests and jade. of his sculpted body, and all the angles and lines that made up his face. his scar that made him golden and perfect, her phi. of how she had seen him on campus the next morning after he walked her home, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, split knuckles raw and red against the marble of his skin. how he’d finally noticed her outside the cafe for the first time and actually smiled at her.
her friends – more so acquaintances who had happened to become close simply because they were on the same course –had noticed the exchange. when toji had walked well out of earshot, they had bombarded her with hushed whisper-yells of excited “oh my god!" and "how did you even get him to smile? i’ve never even heard him speak.”
and she’d shrugged them off, fending off their curiosity with, “oh, he comes to the cafe all the time, that’s all.”
she didn’t want to get into all the details of toji and her. well, just toji really – there was no 'and her'. their time together was a coveted treasure, and she was strangely possessive over it.
that night, as she handed toji his tea, she plucked up the courage to ask, “what happened to your hands?”
toji automatically looked down at them, flexing them as if even mentioning them made them burn with pain. “oh, nothing, just went a bit too hard at training.” it didn’t occur to her not to believe him until she was staring blankly at the last question of her exam.
she thought of the evil boy in the cafe, of toji staring down into the darkness and looking over his shoulder as if demons were just behind them, and he was the only thing keeping them at bay. maybe he really was doing just that. maybe that’s why he had continued to walk her home every night, as their graphs continued to overlap even more closely together.
she came out of that exam feeling as if some sort of hidden revelation was waiting to be discovered, and by god, how much she loved to solve for a new equation.
toji was already waiting for her at the cafe when she arrived for her shift, an occurrence steadily getting earlier. he immediately took note of her coming in, and his eyes lit up. she smiled brightly at him, offering him two thumbs up, to which he grinned and pushed away his laptop before approached her.
“so, it went well then?” he prompted, the ghost of a smile still playing on his lips.
she poured them both two mugs of tea, and held hers out towards him. “yeah, it wasn’t too bad actually. cheers to that!”
toji chuckled and clinked his mug with hers, the both of them blowing on the tea before sipping it tentatively. he went back to his table, resuming whatever he had been doing, and leaving her to serve the customers. that was perhaps the only drawback of toji arriving earlier - that their time spent together was interrupted. but it also served as a tantalizing countdown to when it was just the two of them.
obviously, their dynamic had shifted dramatically in the past week, and they’d settled into an easy-flowing sequence – something that felt as if phi would be, so perfectly balanced and positively golden. toji seemed to want to unveil the mystery of his equation to her, but bit by bit, which she didn’t mind at all. she loved slowing figuring out the scale of his axes, plotting all his points together, and finally drawing the curve that connected them all.
toji fushiguro could only be described as steady, a mountain that would never bend or break, his roots so profoundly deep that she had to really dig to see them. he loved his body, but not in a superficial way, but more that it was something he was in control of and could continually improve. she discovered that he drank green tea not just because it was healthy, but because it was cheap. how most of his gym wear had varying sizes of holes, and he carried around a tiny sewing kit in his bag at all times because he sometimes only noticed one when he was out and about.
most importantly, today he had divulged what he wanted for his future.
“i want to get out of this hellhole as soon as i can,” toji had sighed exaggeratedly, stretching his neck backwards. whenever the last customer had left the cafe, he’d drag a chair over to the edge of the counter. not so directly in front of it that he was blocking any customers, but just enough so that they were sitting across from each other.
she rolled her eyes playfully at him, nibbling at the cap of her pen. “oh, how original. you and every other student in this university.”
“well yeah, obviously, but not as much as me,” he retorted.
“what make you so different, then?”
“i’ve always wanted to leave, even before i got here. i want to to go and live in tokyo.”
“tokyo, huh? and what do you wanna do there?”
“well, eventually i want to open my own dojo and teach jujitsu, but i’d probably have to start out as an instructor.”
“oh wow, you’ve got a solid sort of plan. have you always wanted to do that?”
“yeah, i really hate it here.”
and he’d gone quiet, but she didn’t press him. instead, she focused on her textbook because there were still exams to be studied for, and waited for toji to come back to her. where he went in those moments, she didn’t know. there was something lurking in the shadow of the mountain, and he still seemed to be fighting against it even now.
she knew he’d come back to her when he’d lean in closer, cheek against his palm, and try to make sense of whatever diagrams appeared on the pages she was reading.
“that looks cool,” toji murmured, pointing at whatever had piqued his interest. “what is it?”
and she discovered, not that it was a real shock, that toji was so very curious. he wanted to know things, he liked to know how things worked, and he was really clever. she would explain as best as she could, and toji would follow along diligently, nodding his head every so often and asking the occasional question. many people probably underestimated just how smart he really was, but she never did.
“this is a diagram that sort of shows what einstein’s theory of general relativity is all about.”
“ah right, it’s pretty famous then isn’t it? cuz it’s einstein's.”
“haha, i suppose so, yeah.”
“what’s it about?”
she bit her lip and tilted her head, placing her finger as a makeshift bookmark and closed the book between her fingers. “it’s about… how really big objects like planets and stars cause gravity by bending space-time.”
“Bending space-time is gravity?”
“It’s because the bigger object has caused smaller ones to be pulled closer to it, if that makes sense.”
toji nodded slowly and laughed. “it’s a bit over my head. how you perfectly understand it is beyond me though.”
“i wouldn’t say perfectly,” she replied bashfully. “but i think it’s a beautiful theory.”
“you think every theory is beautiful.”
“haha! no, well yes, but that’s besides the point!”
“well, what is the point?”
“that something has had such a profound impact, because it’s so big and larger than life that it’s impacting all the other small things around it and pulling them in closer to it.”
toji smiled, the kind of smile he had when he was more vulnerable and soft, when his barriers were down and forgotten about. the way he looked at her made her body jolt with thousands of little lightning bolts.
“yeah,” he mused thoughtfully. “yeah, that is kinda beautiful.”
| Φ |
five days.
that’s how long it had been since she’d seen toji, and she missed him more than she cared to admit, even to herself.
it wasn’t ideal, right smack in the middle of the exam season, to be so distracted by a boy, but toji fushiguro wasn’t just any boy. he was the boy who she spent every day with, and the past two weeks had been a rosy dream as they talked more and more. it was now the middle of may, and she was almost done with sitting all of her exams. she should have been thinking of her future, about a solid career plan, and where she wanted to live.
but no, all she could think of was the laws of physics and toji fushiguro, and counting down the days until she could see him again.
he was currently out on a placement excursion, teaching ten-year-old kids during their regular sports curriculum. it was almost comical, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself whenever she thought of toji surrounded by a bunch of wide-eyed children. he’d already been groaning about it before he left, about this and that, and how much he didn’t like silly kids and their silly faces.
“what are you smiling about?” one of her friends whispered suspiciously, leaning in closer to her so as not to disturb anybody else in the library.
she shook her head, and told a little lie, “oh, just about how close we are to finishing uni. it’s sort of unbelievable.”
her friend raised a brow, clearly not believing her. “sure, and it doesn’t have anything to do with fushiguro?”
“ugh, why do you keep bringing him up all the time? i told you there’s nothing going on there.”
“i’ll believe that when i stop seeing you smiling like an idiot in love. now, c’mon and focus on this.”
love? no, no, it wasn’t love. not quite yet, at least, but she knew it was getting there. she felt a slight tremor in her chest, traveling all the way to the tips of her fingers and then the ends of her toes like an electric current across a wire. it was unfathomably scary to admit it, but it was nothing but the truth.
she was falling for toji fushiguro.
she ducked her head down, her pencil scratching against her notepad as she attempted yet another sample question, endeavouring to distract herself from all thoughts of him for the rest of the study session. as soon as she had to leave for the cafe, she practically shoved her things into her bag and almost ran towards it. toji should be back today, with it being friday and the school week coming to an end.
when she got there, her manager was behind the counter in the midst of serving a customer, and the cafe was reasonably busy. the overwhelming aroma of coffee wafted through her nose, warm and inviting, and familiar. she wondered if toji thought of her whenever he smelt coffee.
she certainly hoped that he did.
“great you’re here,” her manager beamed, handing her an apron to tie around her waist. “i was wondering if you would like to take some time off whenever you finish your exams? my nephew is coming to visit, and i’d like to put him to work instead of him lazing about all day.”
she was immediately hit with a sheer sense of panic. if she didn’t work, then how else was she supposed to see toji? it was so utterly embarrassing and pathetic, that she was so enamored with this boy that she was willing to work just to see him. but then she thought about what would happen after graduation, and how they realistically would not be seeing each other – perhaps ever again.
“sure, that’s alright with me,” is what she finally said after a moment's hesitation, but her manager surely picked up on her hesitant tone.
“never have i ever seen a student who didn’t want time off work,” they chuckled, hand on their hip. “this has got to do with that dark haired boy, doesn’t it?”
heat creeped up into her cheeks, and she busied herself with pouring a cup of coffee for a customer, as her manager gazed at her in bemusement. “no,” she squeaked out.
“oh to be young again,” they said in a sing-song voice. “don’t worry about not working though, i’m sure that boy would follow you anywhere you go. i’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
she didn’t quite know how to respond to that.
when the moon had risen high into the sky and the shop was empty, she waited and waited for toji. he was late, and he should have been there by now. or maybe he wouldn’t come? she thought it might have been quite bold to assume he would have tonight. he was probably tired from a whole week of teaching, and maybe he had decided to just go home and rest. she couldn’t blame him for that.
but that didn’t stop the soul-crushing disappointment from tearing her in two.
the sky must have felt her distress, because soon enough the pitter-patter of rain falling against the roof ensued. maybe metaphysical pain was real, and maybe she would spend her whole life trying to prove her theory. what a tragic future, she thought, and sniffled as she locked the door behind her.
and then she turned around, and toji was standing there, his chest heaving.
for a moment, they just faced each other. he was all wet, black hoodie all soggy and weighed down, sticking to him like a second skin. his green eyes were alight, looking at her with a mixture of nerves and something else she couldn’t place. toji exhaled shakily, his lashes fluttering as he blinked fast.
“sorry,” he mumbled. “i tried to get here sooner, but there was an accident and my train was delayed.”
her heart melted; she felt as if she was one with the rain puddles in the dips of the pavement, one with the water pooling beneath toji’s feat. could it be love already? maybe her loved ones, wiser and older than her would have said it was, but she felt too young to know it.
and yet, here was a boy standing in front of her, who had run through the rain and labyrinth of buildings to get here.
“oh, toji,” she gushed, instinctively opening up her umbrella and shielding him from the torrent of the sky. “you’ll get sick.”
she didn’t realize just how close they were together, trapped underneath the tiny space, until toji was staring down at her. a water droplet dropped from his hair, over the ridge of his nose, caressing over his cupids bow and parted lips, all the way down to his chin and onto her lip.
she shivered, feeling as if their lips may as well have touched.
“it doesn’t matter,” toji whispered, in that deep, almost sad tone that belonged only to him, and she finally admitted internally just how much she missed his voice. “it’s only water.”
they stood there staring at each other for a heartbeat too long, until she broke the silence with, “let’s get out of here.”
and then they set off at a slow, shuffling pace, the backs of their hands and shoulders brushing against each other, and she thought a live spark might just ignite off her skin. the rain sounded like little stones tumbling off the top of the umbrella, and the smell of the wet pavement served as little momentary distractions against the all-consuming feeling of toji beside her.
she didn’t want it to end, and so when they reached the entrance to her accommodation, and turned to face him. “you can’t go home like this. won’t you come inside and dry off?”
toji’s eyebrows shot up, and he almost looked like a deer in the headlights. he was fighting within himself; she could see it in the way his hand flexed, his knuckle touching hers. “i’ll just make your floor wet though,” he muttered, looking down at the ground.
“it doesn’t matter,” she urged, and added a desperate. “please.”
that seemed to snap him out of whatever internal deliberation he was having, and toji nodded. “okay then.”
she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, almost immediately turning towards the door to hide most of it from him, taking out the keys from her pocket and fumbled with one hand to grab the correct one for her door. his proximity behind her was beyond distracting, her back felt like the south side of a magnet, and toji was her north. it would be too easy to fall back into him, and so she endeavored to root her feet into the ground and resist the urge.
she finally opened it and they passed through the unwelcoming vibes of the main lobby, toji’s shoes squelching loudly with every step he took. the student behind the desk glancing uninterestedly up at them, and then sharply looked back up, staring with saucer eyes at toji in tow behind her.
she once again fought with her keys, the sound echoing throughout the empty corridor, and pushed open the door to her shared dorm. it was compact but efficient for two people to live comfortably together. her flatmate was curled up on the sofa with her boyfriend, shui, in the main living area, only lit up by whatever was on the tv.
“roomie!” her roommate called out, oblivious to toji’s presence. “how was studying today?”
“yeah, great,” she answered, glancing back at toji awkwardly standing by the door. “you?”
“all goo- oh! oh. hello there!” her roommate finally registered toji’s presence as the door clicked shut behind him, immediately jumping out of shiu’s arms, who also looked back over his shoulder in intrigue.
“hey,” toji mumbled, a puddle of water now collecting over the white tiles.
shiu waved his hand at toji, who flicked his chin upwards in acknowledgment. she immediately turned to her roommate, “hey, you think you have something from shui’s he could borrow?”
her roommate sprung into action, scrambling off the sofa. “yeah, yeah! sorry! i’ll be right back.”
toji remained where he was, stationary as a rock, his emerald orbs flicking every which way. she wondered what he was thinking, but she was too consumed by the monumental event that he was really standing there in her living room to dwell on it.
her roommate burst out of her room, smiling brightly as she handled a bundle of clothes to toji. “there you go! the bathroom’s just to the left there.”
he strode straight to the bathroom, his eyes meeting hers just before he closed the door.
“girl,” her roommate excitedly whispered, vigorously grabbing her forearms. “what the- what is going on? i didn’t know you and fushiguro were together.”
“we’re not together,” she rebuked, biting her lip. “we’re just… friends.”
her roommate scoffed, nearly bouncing up and down in glee. “shiu, you know this is the first time she’d brought a boy home.”
shiu hummed quietly, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips. “that’s great, babe.”
her roommate scoffed, rolling her eyes at him, and her grip tightened just a fraction. “is he spending the night? oh my god, you both should stay and watch a movie with us.”
“oh, i don’t think he’ll stay…”
“girl, just go and get changed into something else, and i’ll talk to him when he comes out. you know people can’t say no to me.”
before she knew it, she was being pushed into her room, and the door was slammed behind her. she breathed out shakily, sliding against her wardrobe with her head in her hands. her heart was racing, and fuck fuck fuck, what the hell was she thinking bringing toji here?
she heard the bathroom door open, and the quiet baritone of toji’s voice mingled with her roommate's bubbly one. the words ‘pizza’ and ‘movie’ were mentioned, and she rushed to shimmy off her clothes and into her slightly better-looking loungewear, checking her hair was presentable enough. when she quietly opened her door, toji had his back towards her, wearing a black t-shirt that was a size too small and grey joggers that hugged his thick thighs.
he turned to face her, and the tense look on his face relaxed. her roommate piped up from the sofa, “hey! i was just saying that toji should stay and watch a movie with us while his clothes dry.”
she bit the inside of her cheek, and softly said to him, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
toji looked between her and her roommate, before replying with a low, “I’ll stay.”
her roommate clapped her hands together. “great! I’ll order the pizza.”
she walked over to the adjacent sofa to shiu, and hesitantly sat down on one edge of the sofa. toji followed and lowered himself onto the other empty side, leaving a space of everything and nothing between them. soon enough, her roommate returned and plonked herself right in between shiu’s spread legs, shuffling through the channels until she settled on a movie. the pizza arrived some time into the movie, and the four of them helped themselves. she couldn’t help but steal glances at toji, his face illuminated by the tv's glow as he brought a cheesy slice of pizza to his mouth, his expression blank and unreadable.
whatever way the angels must be solving her cosmic equation, they were obviously applying toji’s formula. their numbers were intertwining, creating a new constant, and she wondered what sort of symbol would represent the two of them.
toji met her gaze, and the corner of his lip curled upward.
after the movie had ended, her roommate had ushered a bemused shiu into her room and wiggled her fingers in an excited goodbye. “shh,” she’d giggled, while shiu rolled his eyes at her, tugging on the sleeve of her pyjama top. “don’t make too much noise, you two.”
and with that, she shut the door, leaving them alone.
together.
in her living room, on the same sofa.
“do you, uh, want to watch something else?” she murmured, her legs folded beneath her.
toji breathed out a quiet laugh. “please. i’m sorry, but that movie was actually so bad.”
she nearly snorted, clapping her hand over her mouth in an effort to contain her giggle. “yeah, it was pretty shit.”
the clock above the tv read 1:42 a.m., and she wondered if toji was tired. she assumed he would be after waking up so early to teach a bunch of energetic children. “you want some tea? i was just going to make some,” she asked, her ankles cracking as she rose from the sofa.
toji slapped his thighs, and steadily got up as well. “sure, but i should really get going soon. i don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“spend the night,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “none of us would mind, i promise.”
she then stupidly, pathetically even, held out her pinky towards him. toji frowned, clearly confused. “what are you doing?”
“a pinky promise.”
“oh right, yeah.”
he curled his pinky around hers, and a tiny electric shock sparked between them. she hissed and drew her hand back, but their eyes met, and they both erupted into a fit of hushed giggles, which only served to make them laugh harder.
“okay, you stick something on tv and i’ll make the tea,” she grinned, her bare feet softly padding on the floor as she went over to the kitchen.
as the kettle boiled, she watched toji flicking aimlessly through the channels, his face contorting when he came across something he didn’t like. he settled back onto the sofa, legs spread out as he reclined, mop of thick hair resting against the armrest. the shock of having him her in her home had faded now, and it felt almost natural for them to be around each other in this way. she brought over his mug filled with green tea, and he looked up at her gratefully as he took it from her. she sat down on the other sofa, stretching her legs out. toji’s eyes were slightly red, and he was yawning great big yawns, with the mug delicately balanced on his chest and one arm behind his head. the tv was on a low volume, and the she wanted to pause time, even just for a while.
“hey, just lemme know when you wanna sleep. you can sleep in my room,” she murmured, hands grasping both sides of her mug, feet rubbing against each other.
toji looked over at her, a scowl playing on his features. “and where are you going to sleep, the sofa?”
“well, yeah.”
“no.”
“but you’re the guest!”
“shut up, no.”
“bu-”
“no.”
she huffed playfully, throwing a hand up in surrender, to which toji smirked at. they sat in comfortable silence, watching some silly competition show play on. despite the tea, she could feel herself becoming sleepier by the minute. she looked over at toji, who seemed perfectly content to lie there and watch the contestants make complete fools of themselves.
“bet that guy’s gonna fall off,” he mumbled, his arms folded over his chest. she only hummed in response, her cheek squished against a pillow, and toji grunted, “you the sleepy one now?”
she laughed, which interrupted her yawn. “maybe.”
“go to sleep then. don’t stay up for me.”
oh, how much he didn’t know about how long she would stay up for him, and how long she would really wait. but she couldn’t say anything except, “you sure?”
“yeah, yeah, i’m cool here.”
“hold on, lemme get you a blanket and pillow before i go.”
she returned promptly with them, kneeling down to place them on the floor beside him. when she looked up, she didn’t realize just how close his face was to hers. toji’s eyes flicked down to her lips, then back up to her eyes.
she gulped.
“good night,” he whispered.
“night,” was all she could muster before overcoming the magnetism between them and walking away.
| Φ |
the final stretch.
a flurry of pens on paper, pounding hearts, a tripwire of nerves, and then…
“time is up! please, everyone, put down your pens. the exam is officially concluded.”
she leaned back in her seat, a sheer sense of awe crawling over her. this was it, she was done. her last university exam, all of it was finally over after three long years. her fellow students were of similar sentiment, with wide, nervous smiles, as if they all couldn’t really believe this was happening, as the smacks of numerous pats on the back reverberated through the hall.
the sun was shining on her face as she exited the exam hall, warm and inviting, promising that the hope for the future wasn’t unfounded. they were all high on life, with the thought that the world was their oyster, and they would all be lucky enough to find their own pearls.
“oh my god,” her friend groaned exaggeratedly, hands on her knees as if she’d just run a marathon. “it’s over.”
"yeah, it is," she hummed in agreement, basking in the sheer awe of the moment.
her friend barked out a laugh and clasped her hands together. “right then, i’m going to get ready for the party tonight. you are coming, right?”
“yeah of course,” she confirmed, shocking even herself that she would be going out. “we can only celebrate this once.”
her friend squealed, pulling her into a big hug before breaking away and trotting off. “bring fushiguro! maybe you both can get drunk and finally kiss,” she called out over her shoulder.
a few students looked over at her, and the embarrassment was almost crushing. she’d come to understand now that everyone on campus knew who toji fushiguro was. he was renowned for his adonis figure, the kind of handsome that only existed in fiction, and the fact he most certainly wasn’t associated with any girls or went to any parties.
until perhaps now, of course.
later that night at the cafe, as she fidgeted at her spot behind the counter, she plucked up the courage to ask toji, “so, you can totally say no if you don’t want to come, but there’s a party that’s happening in my building to celebrate the end of exams.”
toji looked up from reading her quantum mechanics textbook she had brought and grunted, “a party, huh. you going?”
“yeah, i’ll be heading over after closing up,” she replied, a bit deflated that he hadn’t seemed to notice she had dressed up quite a bit from her usual attire.
he hummed, nodded, and went back to reading. “i’ll see how i feel.”
that was no definitive reply, and she picked apart his usual baritone and analyzed in her mind as she went through a back-and-forth internal debate, trying to deduce some sort of meaning from it. she’d arrived to the party about an hour ago, and she was still thinking about it as she sipped away at some fruit-flavored punch that was far too delicious and dangerous for someone who didn't really drink. her lips were already numb, and the creeping giddiness was making her feel the joyousness of all that life is and would be.
her course mates had their arms around her shoulders, all of them loudly singing, more slurring really, in a circle to whatever song was thumping through the speakers. a part of her wanted to loose herself in the silliness of it all; it gave her courage and made her seem capable of things she would never have dreamed of sober.
“oh my- don’t look, but fushiguro is actually here,” her friend slurred through her ear, nearly shouting and sending a ringing noise piercing through her eardrum.
she turned around, and sure enough, there was toji fushiguro pushing his way through the throng of students dancing in the cramped apartment they had decided to congregate in. his green eyes met hers, and relief ran over his features. it was cheesy, as well as completely impossible, but time seemed stretch and distort, slowing to a crawl the closer he got to her. her friend released her from the circle, giving her a calculated shove and sending her stumbling over her own feet.
straight into toji’s waiting arms.
“oh, fuck,” he shouted as he caught her, holding her forearms in a firm grip. “you okay?”
she stared up at him, the alcohol running through her blood making her lips spread into a big, dopey smile, and giggled, “yeah, you’re here.”
she could have sworn the tips of his ears turned pink, but the flashing, multicoloured lights made it too hard to make it out properly. it took her far too long to realize that toji still hadn’t let go of her arms, even as her punch had spilled on them both, and as even more people stared and bumped into them.
“you want a drink?” she shouted, standing up on her tiptoes to reach his ear.
toji grimaced. “no thanks, i don’t drink.”
“oh yeah, you’re a proper athlete and all,” she hiccuped, her body flushing with heat and the sound of the music.
he only laughed at that, his emerald eyes twinkling with possibilities.
| Φ |
“be careful,” toji hissed as he quickly moved to steady her as she tripped over the doorway into her dorm. “jesus, you’re a mess.”
“i-hiccup! no, no i’m a ss-shtar,” she wallowed, chuckling madly at her own antics. “ssstar! star.”
“yes, yes, a star, definitely,” toji mumbled, closing the door behind them, and maneuvering her securely along with him.
“hehe, am i youuuur star, toji?” she giggled, her legs giving out from underneath her, suddenly turning into jelly.
he snorted, using her strength to lift her off the floor and into his arms. “yes, you are. now c’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
her head rolled against his chest, her head swimming in a pool of red stars and blue moons, all of them circulating around a green sun. “go onnn, you have to say i’m yo-hiccup-ur star!”
“you’re my star, now c’mon. get into bed.”
as soon as he laid her underneath her duvet, her head started to pound and swirl the moment she closed her eyes, her stomach lurched as if she was actually free-falling, and she groaned loudly. toji kneeled down in front of her, his face oh so very close to hers.
“what’s wrong? you wanna get sick?” he asked, forest eyes deep and ethereal as they took in her probably smeared makeup.
“i close my eyes and it feels bad,” she mumbled, feeling childish as her silliness became too much for even her not-so-sober state to listen to.
toji settled into a more comfortable sitting position, and she could feel his breath caressing her face. “tell me about something then, don’t think about it.”
“like-hiccup what?”
“anything. talk to me about stars, or whatever.”
“stars, really? okay… did you know, that there’s -hic- all different colors?”
“no, i didn’t actually. why’s there so many?”
“cuz they’re all different temperatures, that’s why.”
“that’s really cool. tell me about all the colors.”
“ohh, well there’s blue stars, those're the hottest one. and then there’s…”
| Φ |
she woke up to a throbbing headache and a burning stomach, her eyes hurting as light filtered through the opaque grey curtains of the window. the white wall beside her bed was the first thing she saw when she peeked her eyes open, so dreadfully plain and uninteresting, but rolling over to the other side was another sort of unnecessarily difficult task.
she almost threw up when she saw toji lying there on the floor.
“toji?” she whispered urgently. “toji?! are you awake?”
he grunted in annoyance and rolled over to face her, his midnight hair all messy on a pillow he had procured from who knows where, although there was no blanket to be seen. the light through the curtains softly enhanced his features, the scarred side of his lip twitching as he flitted somewhere in between the realm of dreams and sleep, and oh how her heart was absolutely swooning at the sight.
she smiled to herself, quietly watching him sleep and quickly forgetting about how ill she felt, because none of that mattered. only that she could hear the scratching of quills, ruffling feathers, and the soft music playing, telling her that this was it.
she was in love with toji fushiguro.
there was no other way around it, no more denying it to herself or anyone else. she loved him, the boy who slept on a rock-hard floor beside her all night, listening to her drunk and probably terrible explanations about stars and who knows what else.
green orbs peeked out from hooded lids, and toji mumbled, “what’re you lookin at?”
she bit her lip, trying to contain her giddiness at her sudden revelation, and reached over to poke his hand. “you. why didn’t you sleep on the sofa?”
toji's eyes fully opened, and he grabbed her finger and tugged gently. “cause, what if you needed to get sick and tripped in the dark? you might be a star, but you don’t actually shine, you know?”
“hah, you’re hilarious,” she retorted, letting him waggle her finger with his hand. “what else did i say, then?”
“that i’m the nicest person on earth for staying with you, and that i deserve free green tea from now on.”
“chancer, i definitely didn’t.”
“but how do you know you definitely didn’t?”
a loud knock at her door jolted them both out of their banter, and her roommate belted from the other side, “oi, lovebirds! we’re all going to get breakfast, want to come with?”
she looked expectantly at toji, who shrugged and mouthed ‘sure’, and answered back, “yeah, be out in a sec!”
“lovebirds, huh?” toji mumbled, as he intertwined their fingers, the corner of his lip curling upwards.
oh, angels in heaven above…
“shut up.”
| Φ |
the month of june was of blue skies and scorching pavements. of far too many melted vanilla and matcha ice-creams dripping onto their clothes. of heat mirages and the cool, sweet relief of air-conditioned cafes and shopping malls. of lying on dried-out, yellowed grass at night, their sweaty hands firmly holding each other, while looking up at the midnight sky and divulging all their deepest secrets.
it was when she learned how toji got the scar on his lip.
he was twiddling with the hem of her baby pink t-shirt, and not quite looking at her. “my cousins used to bully me when i was a kid,” he admitted quietly.
her gaze snapped over to him, soul aching for him. “toji, that’s awful. did you tell anyone?”
toji shook his head, trailing a finger up and down her bare arm. “my parents kinda dismissed it like it wasn’t happening. i think they didn’t want to stir things within the family, even when the fuckers took it too far one day and caused this." he paused, voiced tinged with bitterness. "they held me down and threatened me with razor blades, and one of 'em accidentally slipped."
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, not knowing quite else to say, and then rolled over onto her side to face him.
“it’s alright, i’m over it,” toji mumbled, returning to lying on his back, his arm behind his head. “but it’s why i've been studying so hard, so i can get the hell out of here. my family lives quite close by, you see.”
“right, and tokyo is about as far away as you can get.”
“yeah, pretty much.”
“and that’s why you didn’t speak to anyone at uni. you knew you'd just be moving on anyways, so there was no point making friends."
“mhm.”
she chewed the inside of her cheek. “so, what made me different?”
toji turned his head to face her, his gaze holding a gentleness she'd never seen before, “because… you’re you,” he said, as if that alone would explain everything.
she looked away, staring up at the sky again. it was silent for some time before she finally asked, “have i ever explained what quantum entanglement is to you before?”
“no, don’t think so, but go on.”
“it’s when two particles are so deeply connected, that it doesn’t matter even if they’re separated. the connection will always be there, and they’ll always affect each other. the distance between them doesn't matter either, because they still belong to each other.”
toji was quiet for a long time, and she wondered if he understood the deeper meaning behind what she was actually trying to say. she had never explicitly said to him that she loved him, and perhaps this was the only way she could say it - in the only way she knew how to. it was too late to turn back now anyway.
suddenly, he pushed his upper body off the ground and sat upwards, his back turned to her. he was breathing fast, too fast, and her heart started to beat frantically.
“toji?” she called out, fear lacing her words, her heart breaking in two at the mere thought of him rejecting all of this this – rejecting her.
toji turned to her, and whispered with glossy eyes, his words almost barely audible, “it’s you. it’s you. it’s you, and i love you.”
with that, he practically fell on top of her, their lips finally meeting in what seemed like an inevitable occurrence. like an eclipse or the death of a star, but none of that mattered. because here she was, with toji fushiguro, and he loved her.
he loved her, as her lips parted for him and their tongues swirled together, and she thought he tasted of vanilla.
she loved him, as he tenderly held the back of her head, and she melted into him like the ice creams they savoured every day.
they loved each other, as their hands dipped underneath their shirts, exploring the dips and valleys of each other's bodies.
the universe was never more perfect than in that very moment.
| Φ |
the very next week, they went on their first official date.
“i’ll swing by your place at eight o’clock, is that okay?” toji asked her over the phone, as she lazed about in her bed in a dream-like, rosy trance.
she hummed, rolling onto her back and kicking her legs in the air. “sure. what are we doing?”
“never you mind your brilliant little head about it. just be ready, okay?”
“hehe, okay.”
“okay, i’ll see you later… i love you.”
“i love you too.”
with that, he ended the call, and she was left counting down the hours until she would see him. she got ready in good time, being careful to shave every bit of hair on her body, using her roommate's products that she’d left behind after moving out. not that she even thought they would be doing something like that, at least not until she had seen a box of condoms under the bathroom sink cabinet. she hadn’t thought of sex since her subpar experience with it during her first year, and had since locked it out of her mind.
and now, it was all she could think about.
just after eight p.m., there was a prompt knock on the door, and she breathed out shakily before opened it. and there was her boy, her toji, holding a bouquet of half a dozen red roses, with a blush gracing his cheeks nearly as colorful as the flowers.
“hey,” he greeted with a handsome, crooked smile, his eyes sweeping up and down her figure. “you look beautiful. i hope you like italian food.”
and all her bundle of nerves dissipated. “yeah,” she replied breathlessly. “i do.”
toji took her to a small restaurant not too far from her dorm, about a fifteen-minute walk away. it was quirky, designed really for students with not much money in their pockets, but it was just perfect. it was natural, the way it was always meant to be. with her sitting there in a dainty summer dress, while toji, in his usual black t-shirt and jeans, looked at her like she was his whole universe.
after they were done with their meal, he’d shooed her away from even trying to pay for the bill, which he paid for in battered notes and loose change. then, they walked hand in hand in the warm summer breeze back to her dorm. she was going on excitedly about how she was looking for internships at various firms in tokyo, and toji was smiling as he listened to her finally start to figure out the answers to her future equation.
though, maybe not just her future.
they finally entered the safe space of her dorm, her roommates absence filling it with a sad eeriness. she looked at him shyly, fiddling with her fingers behind her back, and asked, “you want some tea?”
toji hummed, taking his shoes off at the door. “sure, thanks.”
she was grateful he said yes; it gave her something to do with her hands. she reached upwards to the cabinet to grab their mugs. the two twin beige, somewhat grey, mugs that always sat beside each other. they clinked loudly against the counter, and she flicked the kettle on.
and then, toji’s warm hands were on her hips, and her mind went blank.
“i love you,” he mumbled, his lips soft and wet as they trailed against the curve of her neck. “you’re my star, and i love you.”
he was repeating ‘i love you’ like a mantra he couldn’t quite believe was true, and even a part of her was still amazed that it actually was. she turned to face him, tea well forgotten about, and wrapped her arms around his neck to place her lips between his plush ones. toji hummed into her mouth, his hands sliding down to gently grip her behind, pulling her closer into him.
it was a nebula explosion after that, a stumbling mess of them making their way to her bedroom with their lips interlocked, bodies pressed close together as they ripped their clothes off each other. giggling like naughty children when she struggled to tug her dress off.
“you’re hopeless,” toji groaned playfully, tapping her nose with his finger, before smoothly sliding her dress from her body.
she pouted, crossing her arms over her bare chest. “am not.”
he shushed her softly, pulling her into him once more in a fiery kiss, and they fell gently onto the bed. toji kneaded her breasts, eliciting a moan from her as his mouth traveled slowly from her lips, down to her neck and caressing her collarbone, flicking her hard nipple with his tongue.
“hmm, you feelin good, baby?” toji murmured, looking up at her with hooded lids, forest eyes blazing with desire reserved just for her. “not too much?”
"n-no," she stuttered, fisting his black locks between her fingers, scratching the back of his scalp and making him groan.
toji parted his lips, his breath blowing softly and tickling her nipple, and she shivered and slightly arched her back in anticipation. he teased her with his tongue, licking her hard bud with a featherlight touch, and she gasped, “toji, please.”
with that, he took her nipple in his mouth, steaming hot and so wet as his tongue swirled around it. she moaned loudly, arching herself into his body, and he placed a strong hand on the small of her back to pull her in.
she thought that if toji pulled her in any closer, they would surely melt into each other and become one.
her legs parted of their own accord, and her hips were pure instinct as she ground her slick pussy on his thigh, the ridges of the powerful muscle stimulating her perfectly and sending jolts of pleasure through her core. toji smiled against her nipple, giving it one last suck, let it go with an audible pop! and traveled back up to her face, his lips brushing hers.
“who knew,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses along the bridge of her nose. “that all this would happen from drinking green tea.”
she giggled, and held his face in her hands, bringing his lips back home to hers. “i need you, toji,” she breathed out, breaking their kiss. “can i have you?”
toji smiled, touched his forehead to hers and murmured, “you can always have me, sweetheart. tell me what you want.”
“i want you in me,” she begged, her arousal making her more desperate by the second. “i’m yours, toji. make me yours.”
he snapped.
his lips captured hers once more in a searing kiss so molten hot, she was sure she would burn and be consumed by his fire. toji’s hands moved down to himself, freeing his hard cock from his boxers with a tiny slap noise as it hit against her lower stomach. he pressed his hips into her and settled in between her legs, his hard and flushed dick feeling even hotter against her skin than his lips did.
toji moved his hips, his cock wetting against her folds, the slick sounds lewd and utterly intoxicating, as he pushed further into her with every back and forth motion.
further.
and further.
she moaned loudly as he finally sunk deep into her wet walls, painfully slow and deliciously agonising.
“oh, fuck baby,” toji groaned, his face in her neck, as he buried himself to the hilt. “you’re -ah!- so fuckin beautiful. my beautiful girl.”
her nails dug into his shoulder, and toji bent her legs to fold them, rutting further into her. she whined at the deeper connection, feeling his cock flex inside her. he stilled with their chests pressed tightly together, and she could feel his heart pumping hard.
“t-toji,” she gasped, throwing her head back as she felt his balls against the curve of her ass, the tip of his dick rubbing against that spongy spot that made her see stars behind her eyelids.
he started shallowly thrusting, deliberately slow, holding her head so lovingly she felt she was going to burst. this was heaven, she thought, toji was heaven – her phi. the golden ratio, found in all remarkable and beautiful things on the planet. all her life, all the combinations of numbers, formulas, and sequences had to have been carefully calculated to lead up to him, to this moment.
toji sucked and kissed just below her ear, his muscled thighs flexing as he increased the pace just a fraction, and she clenched around him as she felt the veins of his cock rubbing exquisitely inside her. she tightly squeezed his bicep as the sounds of her squelching pussy and slapping of their bodies filled the room, and the smell of sex and toji filled her nose.
“look at us,” he cooed, stroking her cheek. “makin such a mess on your bed.”
she looked down to the interconnected bodies, a ring of white cream at the base of toji’s cock pumping in and out of her, dripping down onto a damp spot on the bedsheets underneath them. his toned abs had a thin sheen of sweat, and they flexed and rippled as he really started to pound into her. her pussy clenched around him again at the thought of him chasing his pleasure high from her body. she kissed him fervently, and he moaned into her mouth. toji’s balls were tightening, and her orgasm was exponentially building, like the pressure of boiling water molecules hitting the walls of a sealed container.
“let go, baby” toji murmured huskily, his hips snapping at an even faster pace. “let go.”
and she did, throwing her head back and almost screaming as her legs shook violently.
a supernova imploded somewhere at the other end of a distant universe. stars flew across the blackness behind her squeezed-shut eyelids, leaving behind a glittering trail of stardust. toji groaned into her neck, and she felt hot ropes of his cum spurt against her walls, his legs the only thing powering his body through his high.
she wrapped her arms around his neck as he stilled, half-hard cock still plugged inside her, panting into each other as their shared sweat made them stick to each other.
“i love you,” toji whispered, full of reverence and life.
she kissed him softly, rubbing their noses together. “i love you too.”
| Φ |
it was early july now; their results had been released, and graduations were finally right around the corner.
“you should go toji!” she exclaimed, cupping her mug of lukewarm tea with both hands, watching intently from the sofa as he did some stretches. “you’ve worked so hard for this.”
he grunted, but from effort or annoyance, she didn’t know. “i can’t be bothered, seriously, and i’m not interested in standing on a stage and be the only person without parents cheering them on.”
she didn’t press it further, casting one last longing look at his muscles rippling as he stretched, and resumed looking through internship advertisements on her laptop. they had settled into an oddly domestic routine for the past few weeks. she would work in the cafe during the day, while toji trained at the gym. he would swing by and pick her up as she finished work in the early afternoon, and they would cook dinner and hang around the dorm. the weather was getting far too hot for leisurely walks during the day, so they had mostly passed that time making love and talking about everything and nothing.
toji kissed the top of her head, squatting behind her and clearly finished with his stretches, his eyes skimming over the current tab open on her laptop. “still nothin, baby?”
she sighed, rubbing his hand that was gently massaging her shoulder. “no.”
“you’ll find something, don’t worry. it’ll happen. let’s just focus on celebrating your graduation next week.”
her graduation.
she still couldn’t believe it. next week, she would be graduating, and the week after that, saying goodbye to her accommodation – her home – for the last three years of her life. saying farewell to her manager and the little cafe that had been so good to her, and not just because it had brought her and toji together. the stress was mounting to find something, anything, in tokyo, because she refused to even entertain the idea of going backwards and returning home.
and because she absolutely could not bear to be so far away from toji either, the thought alone was soul-crushing.
she heard the shower faucet running in the bathroom, and a wave of loneliness hit her. why exactly, she wasn’t sure, but she chased after toji into the bathroom.
he stared as she burst in, brow raised in startled confusion as soap suds ran down his face and back. “what? you find somethin?”
clothes be damned, she stepped into the shower and kissed him with all the energy and emotion she could muster. toji was taken aback for a second, hesitatingly circling his arms around her, and then giving into her.
she then decided; she would rather her body combust, and all her atoms disperse into the atmosphere before even trying to live without toji fushiguro.
| Φ |
it was the night before her graduation, and she was a nervous wreck.
“oh, toji,” she gushed, dipping the razor she was holding into a bowl of soapy water and giving it a little shake. “i hate getting up in front of people. i might just not go. it doesn’t really matter anyway, does it?”
toji hummed, brows furrowed at her, but remained unable to respond unless he wanted to get soap in his mouth. she flicked the excess water from the razor and carefully shaved underneath toji’s chin. he’d really let his stubble grow out, and since he was adamant about attending her graduation, it meant that the scruff would just have to go.
“nugh- y’re goin,” toji mumbled through pursed lips. “y’re too shmart t'not go.”
“and you’re too smart to have missed yours, but here we are,” she retorted, her tongue poking out from the side of her lip in concentration. “now stop talking, or you’ll get cut.”
toji grumbled and huffed from his nose, sending a soap sud flying onto her bare arm, and he snorted in amusement. she was sat on top of the kitchen counter next to the sink, with toji standing in between her legs, his hands kneading her plush thighs every so often. she was deep in thought, going through her mental checklist of everything she needed to prepare for tomorrow morning.
her light green kimono for the ceremony was already laid out on her roommate's old bed, zori shoes and tabi socks neatly placed beside it. but her hair pins and accessories still needed to be picked out, and she hadn’t even decided on a-
“ow, fuck!”
she snapped out of her thoughts as toji hissed in pain, ruby-red pearls of blood already blooming from his lip.
oh no…
please god, no...
she’d cut his scar, reopening the top layer of delicate flesh.
“toji! fuck, i’m sorry,” she panicked, as he pulled away from her in a flash, his fingers pressing down on his lip. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to!
she slid off the counter, immediately trying to go over and help him, but toji practically growled, “don’t fucking touch me.”
her body froze, a cold shock of dread spreading from her head straight down to her stomach where it pooled uncomfortably. “toji?” she called out, her heart cracking and lip quivering. “it’s me. it’s only me.”
she’d never seen him like this before, backed up against the wall like an injured animal, his green eyes widened, breathing quickened, and nostrils flared, as if he was about to lash out at anything and everything. he met her worried gaze, and there was nothing but coldness and emptiness. there was no trace of the boy she knew and loved. “oh, toji. please,” she begged, fat droplets of tears running down the apples of her cheeks. "let me help you."
toji madly scrambled away, grabbing his shoes, and was out the door as if he’d never been there to begin with.
| Φ |
toji never came home last night.
she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, after calling him numerous times with no answer, waiting for him to walk back through the door until she couldn’t possibly keep her eyes open any longer. when she woke up groggily, her eyes still heavy from sleep and crying, she went about the arduous task of getting herself ready for graduation.
she hoped, no, prayed to the angels solving her equation to apply a magic formula that would bring toji back to her. she had to believe he would show up to the ceremony; he just had to show. she didn’t even want to think about trying to calculate for the probability of him not showing up. the day past in a hazy, slow blur of camera flashes, ostentatious flower bouquets, and toothy grins of parents and graduates. she played the part perfectly, a walking empty shell of a human, hugging and smiling with her loved ones. when her name was called to receive her diploma, nothing else mattered except trying to catch a glimpse of toji’s face in the audience.
but she couldn’t see him, and a foolish part of her hoped that he was simply standing right at the back, wearing that soft smile she loved so much whenever he looked at her.
she eventually returned back to her dorm in a numb daze, blinking slowly as her eyes swept over her soon-to-be-old home.
there was no trace of toji.
not his black sliders by the door.
not his toothbrush in the holder in the bathroom.
not his canvas bag or dirty gym clothes in the washing basket.
nothing at all.
she collapsed to the floor in a heap, her hands shakily procuring her phone from her clutch purse, and dialled toji’s number.
beep. beep. beep.
“sorry, but the number you have called does not exist. ple-”
she snapped her phone shut, and hoped that her angels could hear the gut-wrenching scream that clawed its way out of her throat and reverberated around the empty walls of the dorm.
| Φ |
the first law of thermodynamics states that energy could never be created or destroyed, only changing from one form to another.
she thought of that as she remained curled into a fetal position on the cold, hard tiles, teeth chattering and the very marrow of her bones frozen solid. her fingernails had dug crescent moons into her palm, so hard she surely must have bled by now, but she didn’t care. her heart was tearing itself apart, a war of muscle and heartstrings against merciless, cruel love clashing inside of her chest.
her energy, what was it? was it inherently love? for perhaps the numbers and greek letters she had puzzled over for hours on end, contemplating all of the universe's workings and mysteries. or was it for toji fushiguro? for the dark-haired boy who had taught to her love something else other than her calculations and green tea. to love life and all the little joys that came along with it, and that she was worth so much more than she gave herself credit for.
if her energy was love, then what was it going to change into?
hate or rage? both? maybe the angels would mercifully apply the catastrophic formula of death instead, proving her equation to be null and false, and her body would dissolve back into dust and atoms. atoms that would find their way back to toji, hovering so closely to him, but never touching him again. would his body know hers, even if he could never hope to see her? would he sense her and smile, and remember the quiet, young love they had once shared?
her teeth clattered loudly, and her arms disappeared into the sleeves of her kimono.
how strange, she thought, that the music was the loudest it had ever been.
scratching of quills.
a splash of ink and a teardrop.
and the scroll was flipped over to a blank side.
| Φ |
general taglist: @tadabzzzbee
toji brainrot tag <3: @dollsuguru
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tkaulitzlvr · 1 day
Text
REGRET - T. KAULITZ
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synopsis: when a video of tom getting a little too close to another girl circulates around the internet, your confrontation sparks a heated argument between the two of you. but after tom says something in the heat of the moment, he is determined to make it up to you.
content: angst
a/n: i have risen from the dead🎀 i’m really rusty so if it‘s not up to scratch i’m sorry, ill post about why i’ve not been writing later but for now enjoy whatever this is🗣️
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my eyes are glued to the small computer screen in front of me, face twisting in disgust just a little more every time the low quality video replays. it is almost nauseating, yet i can’t turn away, fixated until my features are scrunched up in an agitating mix of anger and confusion. i am hoping that the events will change the next time the video restarts, that maybe my eyes are deceiving me, but as the same scene plays out in front of me, i quickly realise that it is real, and that my worst nightmare is coming true. not much can be distinguished - whoever had taken the video clearly hadn't payed much attention to keeping their camera still, or investing in the most high-tech gear, but i can tell that it is him. his dirty blonde dreads fall just below his shoulders, hand clutching a drink, surrounded by a crowd of girls whilst flashing lights illuminate his figure every few seconds, lighting up the bustling club before returning it to darkness. he knows that he is the centre of attention, but that doesn't seem to matter to him, his focus on the small blonde to his right.
much to my frustration, the video is only a few seconds long, showing tom leaning into the girl's ear, whispering something before pulling back, a smirk etched upon both their faces. it quickly cuts off just as his hand brushes along her arm, leaving much to be imagined - far too much. though this is probably for the best, watching another second of my boyfriend touching another girl would probably drive me close to insane - if i haven't already reached that point. i can't tell when the video was taken, but it is clearly recent, most likely from one of his tour after parties. he had arrived home last week, and i had been naive enough to miss him - until now.
i hurriedly rush to turn the computer off, sure that i will throw up if i have to watch that video one more time, its existence torture for me as i question how to go about this. tom is totally oblivious, having left for the studio this morning. however as each second passes, i realise that he will be home any minute, long before the anger that courses through my veins has any chance of burning out. my jaw is clenched, breathing heavy and eyes bloodshot as they fight tears, focusing on the blank wall ahead in an attempt to hold them back. the silence is peaceful, an almost laughable contrast to the chaos that echoes within my mind, thousands of unanswered questions racing through it as i am just about ready to pack my bags and never come back, sure that i have seen enough - and the only explanation is that tom has cheated on me.
but when the front door opens, i am trapped, any plans of escaping now far out of reach as tom's soft voice sounds from downstairs.
"baby? i'm home, where are you?" he almost sounds excited to see me, and on any other day, my heart would melt. but today, it twists with dread, feeling as if it has been ripped out of my chest and stepped on. i stay put, maybe because i know the capabilities of my mind, and its tendency to place me in uncomfortable situations, or perhaps it is the nagging in my chest convincing me to delay any conversation with him for as long as is physically possible.
the realisation that i can't avoid him forever comes much faster than i had anticipated. the dull thud of his footsteps trudging up the stairs are enough to capture my attention and pull me out of whatever trance i am subject to. my back falls back against the bed, shoulders slacking with the intent of looking as relaxed as possible, even if the current situation is the exact opposite. i wince when his presence makes itself known, attempting to conceal the uneasy look settling across my face.
"schatz, there you are." there’s no ill intent in his voice. infact it is sickly sweet, laced with an all-too innocent sense of security that on any other day would gravitate me towards him. this part of his day, when he would trudge into bed tiredly, was reserved just for me, for us, and it was something that we both looked forward to. but now it has fizzled out on my end, an excruciating discomfort habituating in its place, becoming harder to ignore with each passing second. the seemingly rigid walls into tom’s heart visibly crumble as he lets his guard down, his tired frame sinking into the soft mattress.
he leans his head against my arm, the limb tensing slightly in response to his touch. it feels wrong. how many other women felt him this close? the thought alone brings a sharp stab to my chest, its non-existent blade twisting within at the almost sickening idea of the same hands touching anybody else. with difficulty, i lift my arm up, heaving it to rest loosely across my torso. from the rigidness of my movement, tom senses that something isn’t right. whether it be impulse or a craving to feel me against him, he readjusts himself, grasping at any opportunity to weave himself even closer, my stiff demeanour offering him the upper hand.
the concept of control seems completely out of grasp now. although unaware, tom tears every remnant of serenity from my still frame, forcing me to follow his gaze and finally look into those eyes. his lips tug into a soft smile at the eye contact, pointer finger aimlessly grazing my lips. though emotionless, he appears to miss the look on my face, far too occupied with his own desires, no matter how light-hearted they seem.
“you have no idea how much i’ve missed you.” he mumbles against me, but when i dodge the kiss that he tries to place on my cheek, he finally pulls himself out of his selfish trance and realises that things aren’t as perfect as he had thought.
"hey, give me a kiss." his voice boarders the waters of hurt and confused, eyebrow furrowed with his eyes scanning my own desperately. when i don’t respond, he misjudges my silence for compliance, leaning downward to plant a soft kiss onto my lips. i don't reciprocate, remaining motionless, eyes wide open as he wraps his arms around me. he presses his lips harsher onto mine, desperation the clear motivator of his hurried movements. it quickly fades into concern when he realises the still lips that his own try to move against. breaking apart and surrendering his desire, he finally captures the hurt etched upon my expression, eyes trailing off into the blank wall behind him. he remains on top of me, his hand reaching to cup my cheek gently, the touch providing the exact opposite of consolation - instead allowing the bitter taste of resentment to settle along my tastebuds in place of his tender kiss. another woman felt those hands against her.
"look at me. what's wrong? did i do something?" his eyes scan mine desperately, feverishly attempting to fathom reasoning for my sudden standoffishness, all whilst his thumb rubs slow and soft circles along my cheek, an action which doesn't go unnoticed.
"did you think i wouldn't find out?" my jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as i finally push his body away. his confusion only intensifies as he collects himself as quickly as he can, scrambling to stand up and reduce our distance once again. his figure towers over mine, clearly failing to grasp the hint that i practically throw at him. if my actions aren’t able to spell it out for him, my words make what i want crystal clear.
“don’t touch me.”
though subtle, i notice the way he winces at my words, choosing to let them go for the time being. "what? baby what are you talking about? find out about what?" his chest rises up and down, expression totally readable, so much that i can sense his every thought, and it is terrifying. each second of silence thickens the already heavy air, so much that a heaviness begins to set in my chest.
i say nothing, instead walking toward the computer and switching it on. the screen lights up, the all too familiar video resuming from the point that i had left it. i grit my teeth, tempted to punch the screen and tom, both ideas becoming increasingly appealing. i turn to face him, remaining calm in spite of all brutal urges screaming out from within me, deciding to put them to bed.
"see for yourself. i'm sure you'd love a reminder of your little fling. she's very pretty, i'll give you that." his mouth opens to say something, quickly shutting with the realisation that he doesn’t have any words - none that would make the situation any better, anyway.
"shit, the paparazzi." he mumbles under his breath, massaging his temples a couple times before shutting the computer off, his eyes darkened as an unrecognisable look takes over. “schatz that isn't what it looks like, i promise you-"
"really? so i haven't just witnessed by boyfriend cheat on me with some blonde whore? you tell me you missed me? you seem to have got on swell without me.” my instinctive sarcasm soon burns out, replaced with an unexpected sadness, one that makes it next to impossible to remain composed.
"jesus christ. i wouldn't ever cheat on you. i don't even know who she is, georg said that he knew her so we let her hang out with us for the night. nothing happened, nothing at all. i love you and only you." he begins to get more defensive, voice raising slightly as he tries once again to move closer to me, an effort that even he knows is futile.
"what so you whisper in everyone's ear like that? you touch everyone's arm like that? you smile at everyone like that? i’m not as stupid as the whores you take to bed.” his excuses are almost laughable, and if my heart didn't feel so heavy with the realisation that he hasn't stayed faithful, i would probably laugh. my composure is deceptive, this soon coming to light with the coming of tears along my waterline.
"no, baby, please don't cry." he starts, protective instincts taking over in spit of the situation, his own eyes becoming glassy. when i shoot him a glare he knows to step back, though it is clear he wants nothing more than consoling me, as he usually would. now it is different, when he is the fuse that ignites this entirely fucked up situations "look, that's the only time i spoke to her the whole night. we were making a joke about georg, that's all."
"you must be kidding." my brows raise, searching his eyes for any hint of amusement, quickly understanding that he is being completely serious, this realisation only angering me more. “you know what? i’m leaving.” i attempt to move past him, struggling to progress even a few steps forward when he grabs my wrist, pulling me back in front of him. he is far too strong for me to put up a proper fight, but that doesn't stop me from trying my body tenses as i pull back, his grip only tightening, proving my efforts as worthless.
"can you just listen to me? i get that it looks bad but you're really overreacting here. Ive told you that nothing happened, why can't you just trust me?" he is no longer sympathetic. instead, his voice holds an anger within it that takes me aback slightly, his change in persona almost frightening. though his sudden defensiveness only alerts my suspicions more, silently reaffirming the fact that he has cheated, even if his words tell otherwise.
"trust you? fucking trust you? i have trusted you! and look where its gotten me. do you know how hard it is to have your boyfriend leave for months? no contact besides from a ten minute call every day, not a kiss, a hug, nothing! and this is what i see from your tour. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?" i raise my voice, its harshness mirroring tom's as i finally manage to writhe myself out of his grip, now standing a few feet away from him. he clenches his jaw, looking to the side as silence takes over, its presence only brief however, soon destroyed by the sound of his voice, far louder than it had been through the course of the argument.
"i'm sorry that i don't have a normal career, okay? i've told you so many times that i don't have eyes for anyone else. every single night on tour i go back to the hotel early, because i miss you! and you can't even trust me!" he stops suddenly, almost as if he is contemplating his next words, enduring a silent battle between his mouth and his heart, knowing that both are leading him in different directions. i wait for his response, noticing the way that his expression darkens, eyes refusing to meet my own.
"well? that's all you have to fucking say? you seemed pretty comfortable with her. do you know how much that hurts? why am i not good enough for you?"
"stop it. you know you're good enough for me. don't say shit like that." he is quick to cut me off, his voice laced with disbelief, clearly failing to understand how i could come to such a conclusion.
"do i? seeing shit like that pretty much reminds me why i'm not-"
"look, maybe if you weren't such an insecure bitch then this wouldn't be a problem!" my face drops, lips parting slightly as i pray that my ears deceive me, creating their own truth, one distorted and far from reality. i stay silent, far too astounded to produce any witty comeback, or even look into his eyes. the silence between us is louder than any words spoken, and even more painful than those left unsaid. when i quickly take a glance at him, he realises his mistake just as fast as he had spoken. regret flashes across his face, his expression softening as he walks toward me. i nod slowly, far too defeated to argue back, wrapping my arms around my small frame and walking past him, my entire body shaking slightly as i sob.
"fuck- i didn't mean that. i'm so sorry, god i'm sorry baby." he spews out incoherent apologies, though i am far too hurt to comprehend them, instead tuning them out as i walk out of the room, closing the door harshly behind me.
it doesn’t take long for him to follow, his hurried pleas sounding from behind me. i am far too angry to listen, rushing down the stairs and into the hallway, scrambling for the nearest pair of shoes that i can find. his rambling quickly turns from frantic to desperate when he picks up on the reality of the situation, soon understanding that we are far beyond a kiss and an apology to resolve this.
“wait, hold on schatz. can we please talk about this? don’t leave me, please. i love you so much.” he tries to conceal the small sob that escapes his lips, but i notice it, the almost inaudible sound enough to make me reconsider my choices. but when his arm wraps around my wrist, though not with enough pressure to hurt, i know that forgiving him would be stupid.
“let go of me. i’m leaving for a while. do whatever you want, i don’t care.” my voice is surprisingly calm, the coarseness within it somehow washing away with each shallow breath i take. but the softness of my tone doesn’t match the strength of my movements as i yank myself from his grasp, reaching for my keys and clutching the door handle before he can stop me. i hesitate for a moment, taking a second to look back at him as he continues to spew out his apologies, mixed with incoherent promises that he loves me, along with his own tears that begin to fall from his eyes.
“bye tom.”
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please come home, i’m so sorry - 8:35pm
baby? - 8:35pm
i love you so much - 8:36pm
i promise i didn’t cheat - 8:36pm
can we talk about this? - 8:37pm
please tell me you’re safe - 8:39pm
sure, tom and i had arguments just as every couple did. but when i showed up at my best friend’s house, makeup smudged and eyes bloodshot, she knew that this one was more than just a disagreement on who’s turn it was to make dinner. it was obvious that she had questions, but my delirious state was enough of a motive to save those for another time, instead choosing to rush me inside and wrap me up in blankets on her small couch, insisting that we order takeout and watch movies until i calmed down.
“he’s still texting you?” she questions, referring to my phone vibrating yet again, as it had been for the past hour. i nod my head weakly, body sprawled across her couch, shuffling over to make room for the small brunette beside me. she offers a sympathetic smile, handing me a pint of ice cream and sinking into the cushions.
“i’m sorry.” she says, reaching over and pulling me into a hug, noticing the glassy sheet that forms over my eyes, squeezing me even tighter. “boys are assholes.”
i nod in agreement, hearing my phone vibrate once again, this time not even taking the time to look at the message. they had gotten pretty predictable as they became more frequent - either telling me that he loves me, or that he wants me to come home.
“you’re welcome here as long as you need, okay?” she fills in the silence, recognising that all i need is consolation right now, creating a conversation not on the top of my list of priorities. i mutter a small thank you, feeling my eyes becoming heavy.
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the beginning of a new day somehow intensifies the feeling within the pit of my stomach, the exact opposite of what i expected from a fresh start. now that i have settled down, the reality of it all feels like a fresh wound, one that i can’t envision myself ever healing from. though any time to endeavour into the complex puzzle of my emotions is drowned out by the all too familiar sound of my phone vibrating, and this time i have lost every ounce of self-control, reaching over to the small device embarrassingly fast. the bright light emitting from the screen causes my eyes to squint as i adjust, vision slowly clearing to reveal at least a hundred unread text messages, each one from tom. my sympathetic nature gets the better of me, a wave of guilt taking over as his messages spring from concerned, to apologetic, to borderline insane at my disappearance. i groan internally, quickly realising that i can’t hide forever, no matter how much i convince myself that it is the safer option.
luckily the task of getting myself ready to go back home isn’t a particularly long one. my jeans begin to dig into my sides, a rather unpleasant yet convenient reminder that i am still wearing the same clothes as the day before. quiet snores from the bedroom alert me to sleeping body of my friend, a small chuckle leaving my lips at the sound. i decide against disturbing her, instead scribbling a messy note and sticking it on the fridge, hoping that she’ll understand.
- going back home, thank you for all ur help. i’ll keep you updated, love you
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the house is silent as i enter it, the lack of noise almost eerie though short lived when i place my keys on the table, the metal clattering with a small thud. there is no sign of tom, not even the sound of a tv from the living room, or the quiet sizzle of fresh food, indicating that he is making breakfast as he would every morning. though it seems that i hadn’t entered as quietly as i had hoped, the sound of tom’s steps, quick and erratic, echoing from the kitchen, getting louder and louder until he is standing in front of me.
our distance is temporary, quickly diminished as he takes me into his arms, pressing his lips against mine with as much strength as he can muster. i only realise just how anxious he has been when his palms cup my cheeks. they are shaking, the skin cold against my own as his entire body begins to tremble, my stomach sinking. he is crying. in spite of his vulnerability, he is the first to pull away, firmly wrapping his arms around my frame and hugging me tightly.
“god i love you, i love you so much. i thought you weren’t coming back.” he struggles to get his words out, a mixture of incoherent sobs and quiet sniffles accompanying his speech. his grip only tightens, hands running up and down my back as he repeatedly kisses my hair, tears continuing to fall down his cheeks. my arms remain firmly by my side, sympathetic enough to allow him this small touch, yet no where near as forgiving to consider returning the act.
“are you okay?” he becomes worried, putting his emotions aside and finally separating his body from mine. his calloused fingers run over the smooth skin of my arms, looking for any sign of harm. even though he knows me well enough to guess that i had gone somewhere safe, his protective instincts kick in, convincing him that the worst has happened.
“i’m fine.” i mumble, releasing myself from his grip and walking into the kitchen, taking a glass and pouring myself some water, my throat dry from the strain on my voice from the night before. he quickly follows behind, taking my hand in his. he notices my hesitation, running a thumb over the back of my hand in an attempt to soothe me, and somehow, it works. seeing him in front of me brings back memories of last night, their sting still painful and effects strong with the irritating onset of tears. tom sees this just as fast as i do, reaching upward to wipe them before they are able to fall.
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry beautiful.” he whispers, his touch so gentle i almost don’t feel it. he replaces his thumb with his lips, kissing just below my eyes, damp with evidence of my upset.
“how could you?” i mumble, voice barely above a whisper as i struggle to make eye contact, tom’s own gaze pained. his eyes are bloodshot, cheeks red and blotchy and entire body still trembling slightly. his face softens at my question, and silence takes over for a few moments.
“i know. i know how it looks. i shouldn’t have gotten so close to her, not when i have you. but i promise you that i didn’t cheat. you’re everything i want and i’d be an idiot to throw that away. you have to believe me baby.” his voice begins to break, thumb running across my cheek and eyes staring into mine, scanning desperately for any sign that i am convinced. it isn’t the most detailed nor thought out explanation, but i know him enough to see that he is telling the truth.
“okay.” i nod my head and look to the floor, swallowing harshly in an attempt to calm my shallow breathing. his fingers come underneath my chin, gently pulling it upward so that i am facing him again. the pain is still there, regret etched upon his expression as seeing the woman he loves in such a state hurts him just as much as me leaving. he takes me in his arms, lifting me up and gently kissing me again. this time i reciprocate, a small sob leaving his lips as he recognises this, his hold on me only getting tighter. the previous lack of contact had affected more than i had realised, the small reassurance of my kiss enough to crumble his usually calm temperament.
“i love you.” he whispers against me, his lips bitter with the taste of tears. that doesn’t matter to me. pressing my mouth to his as harshly as i can, my arms wrap around his neck, bringing him in even closer. he holds me so tightly, like i may slip away, the fear of losing me all too real. my small hands cup his cheeks, attempting to deepen the kiss, though doing so unsuccessfully as his voice vibrates against me. he sounds broken, his request coming out as a desperate plea, cut off by a short sob. “please say it back. you haven’t this whole time and i-”
“i love you too.” i mumble against his lips. he holds me even tighter, something which i didn’t think was possible. but considering the realms of possibility is an activity for another day. i have no time to consider anything as he kisses me once again, his touch addictive, and more than enough to make me forget everything.
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jqnehr · 2 days
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❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.
boothill x fem!reader.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).
𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.
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"You look like you should be in a saloon."
The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.
He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."
"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."
"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."
"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"
"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."
"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"
"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."
"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."
"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"
"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"
"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."
"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"
"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"
You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."
"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."
"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"
He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"
You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."
He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."
"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."
"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."
"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.
"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."
"You can't swear?"
"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."
You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."
"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."
"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."
He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."
"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.
"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."
"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."
Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"
"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."
He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"
You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."
"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."
You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."
"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."
You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."
He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."
"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"
He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."
So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."
With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.
you forgot to pay the bill for your drink
so I covered it for you.
you owe me one, cowboy
His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.
Oopsies 🤭
How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?
His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.
Alright then
I want steak
Can you even eat?
You liked how he always replied fast.
Nah
But that's fine
Your company's better
Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.
Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.
Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.
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© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.
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vnusoki · 2 days
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⋆⑅˚₊ THE ALIEN STAGE . . .
⊹ ࣪ ˖ synopsis. sing or die. the alien stage determines your fate, but what if you lover was your opponent ?
⊹ ࣪ ˖ warnings. satoru gojo x reader. hint of suguru geto x reader. death. angst. hurt/no comfort. fluff. consists of flashbacks and recalling memories while singing. kissing. making out, and illusions to intercourse. based on the world of alien stage. death ( obviously 👩🏽‍🍳 ) not proofread
⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes. wc. 1.1k this is based off of alien stage. i remember seeing a vid back in 2022 and i forgot about it. seems fate that it’s my new obsession currently. sorry if I get stuff wrong <3 might make a suguru version.. idk..
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The light is blinding you, you think, as you bring a hand to block its ray’s shining from the stage lights above. The platform you stand on is slowly raising and you can finally see your stage for the first time in what seem like a few hours.
You are not glad. Anxiety is a knot in your stomach that with the seconds passing by, only tightens further. You have done this before, you tell yourself. There is no reason to be afraid but the bead of sweat tricking down your forehead is testament to the lie.
The fear of death clouds over every round you play, every song you sing, and every person you were set to face against.
Last round, you faced against Suguru Geto. His black hair and mesmerising eyes had captivated the audience the moment you emerged on stage. But you’d been better. Your singing skills soon took the crowd by storm and it was only a matter of time before you won.
You were thankful. Or that was what you would’ve liked to say as you gazed at the dead body of your friend. His eyes ever still mesmerising but the light had long left them. Or maybe it’s always been like that, you just never noticed.
This time, you face against Satoru. Your white haired, blue eyed friend. He had always garnered the attention of his crowds. It was like fate for him to always win with his attractive looks. Nonetheless the fact that his skills were great.
He sounded angelically, his voice hitting high notes and dipping for lows in just the right places. It was as if he had trained his whole life for this.
Your platform finally stills as you stand on your floating platform. The microphone stand infront of you is white, as is the floor you stand on but your dress?
It is wine red and hooks to your figure, the eyeliner anointed on your face is also red and the lipstick too.
You look to your side as the sea of spectators lights up. Satoru stands, back pin straight, blue eyes dark and looking forward. You wish he would look at you.
He wears a suit of white and you are puzzled. Whys would they make you wear a red dress but not hsv w you match with your partner. You laugh at the thought. It wouldn’t matter since you’d be dead in a few minutes.
The music starts in the background and you open your mouth, lips quivering for the first time ever. Nothing comes out and it seems your throat has closed up from horror.
You can hear Satoru’s voice all around you and this time when you look at him, he is turned towards you, blue eyes glistening in the light and he is as beautiful as ever.
You remember when you first met him. You were both young when you attended anakt garden but you would always remember the defiant look on his face as you all stood in a row presenting your voices.
He had been stubborn then, but it soon slowly withered away like a rotting apple from the harsh slaps and beatings he would get for it.
You’d thought, even with the bruise on his cheek, that he looked as pretty as ever. And even more so now as you can see the light purple bruise on his cheek again.
He looks at you, lips moving to a beat you neither recognise nor care for. He is mouthing words you do not understand, a language you have forgotten and you only see him.
Your feet are moving before you know it and you are once again reminded of your first real talk. Satoru was laying on a bed of grass, the newest injury of his, on display on his cheek for all to see. Light drops of blood litter the top of his white shirt.
You think he looks cute pouting.
You take a seat next to him. Eyes trained on the blue sky that you all know is too fake to be real.
‘‘…you mess around too much, y’know?’’
Your hand is lightly grazing his swollen cheek. You watch as a blush seeps into his skin and runs towards the tips of his ears.
‘‘yeah, yeah I do…’’
He wouldn’t ever tell you that he does it to make himself look more better in your eyes. To gain your attention and approval. Shoko has already teased him enough about his crush.
You now stand infront of Satoru and time stills for a few moments. The light is making his face shine, the beads of sweat glisten as they run down the length of his gorgeous face.
You still haven’t sung and sorry claws at him. He doesn’t want you too die, he can’t live with you dead.
‘‘why aren’t you singing? Sing!’’
He pleads with you but you can practically feel the timer slowly coming to a close, the last few seconds ticking down.
‘‘…you know I won’t.’'
Of course you won’t. You swore it to him only a day or so ago and he’d begged you not to as you lay together. You trace shapes on the length of his bare chest, watching as it rises and falls.
You try to distract yourself on what you have just done but the repetitive twitch in your legs and the liquid you can feel running down your inner thigh is evidence enough of what you have just done.
Satoru kisses you again, this time slow and passionately and he lingers too long for the taste of his sadness and fear not to be tasted by you on his tongue.
‘‘…promise me you’ll sing.’’
You don’t reply, instead running your hand through the back of his hair, you bring his face once again closer to yours, bare chests touching. His hands are roaming everywhere, from the expanse of your thighs to sweeter and more intimate areas.
Satoru opens his eyes but the memory has ended too soon. The music has stopped and your feverish look, the pure bliss and love in your eyes is gone.
You stand for a few moments, swaying on your feet and he hears your final words fall off your red lips.
‘‘…you know I can’t promise you that…’’
You fall to the ground, red dress pooling around you like blood. A thin trail escapes your mouth and falls down your chin.
He looks down to his attire and now Satoru knows why they put him in a white suit instead of a red one. He sees the blood splattered from you on his blazer and he thinks he’s going to vomit.
But vomiting won’t bring you back and he watches as guards he didn’t know were there, come and drag you away. He watches the red, bloody trial you leave behind and he wishes he wore red.
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© VNUSOKI 24 do not copy, repost or plagiarise my work !
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dudecunt · 2 days
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little boy spasming on his mom's cock, cunt sopping wet and well-trained from years of being gaslit and raped shown the full extent of her love. his mom is harder than ever, wearing a vibrating cock ring so it buzzes against his plump clit with every balls deep thrust. she readjusts so she can fuck his cervix, cock ring steady on his angry little button. the expression on his face, completely void of any higher-level processing, eyes rolled back, drool streaking his chin and neck from the blowjob he gave her earlier -- she can't believe her own child looks like that. she's never gonna be able to not think about it when she's alone and stroking her clit.
she's glad she decided to set up the camera tonight. usually she uses her phone to film herself plowing his cunt, but with the tripod set up she can get her hands all over her boy while recording all of his cute, squirmy orgasms. he's been cumming so hard tonight too -- working that heart plug into his ass was a great idea alongside the ring. the kid doesn't know what to do with himself.
she's just grateful that she has the willpower to not immediately flood his womb with her load while feeling his drenched pussy grip her clit. still, she's struggling a bit the longer they make love -- each time he starts shaking and thanking her for another orgasm, she has to seat herself balls deep and stay completely still. the combination of the vibrations, his cunt having something thick and throbbing to suckle on, and his asshole clenching around the bejeweled plug is clearly distracting him enough from the break in his mother's pace, though. just to cover all her bases, she's leaned down so she can kiss him whenever she stops, and she switches to more of a slow grind once she calms down. he's definitely cumming more than he can think about it.
he's starting to choke on air, eyes totally white now, convulsing violently as his cervix struggles and slurps at her tip, and that's her cue to pull out to give him a break. she groans at the nasty, creamy noise of her cock sliding out, chuckling at how he squeals and squirts hard on her exiting length. they're still connected, his plump, young cunt fucked open obscenely. she really doesn't know how he's managed to take all of her over the months -- she's much bigger than most women. the kid's a natural-born whore.
"...mom," he manages, whole body shaking. she swallows down a strangled, short moan at the sight of cream drooling from his clenching hole, gripping her cock for a moment just to stroke its whole length right in front of his broken-in pussy. "yeah, kiddo?" she grunts, feeling her balls tighten up.
"why're you...why'm i getting fucked like this?" he whines, and she pauses, letting out a short, overwhelmed huff as she freezes, trying not to shoot ropes over his visibly throbbing clit at the words alone. holy fuck.
"'m sorry, baby," she says, feeling a little guilty, which is an emotion she admittedly doesn't feel all that often when she's dicking her boy down. but looking at his teary eyes, his puffy, teased nipples, how his lower half still trembles like she's still actively demolishing his boycunt...a tiny bit of sympathy creeps into her brain despite the delicious heat sinking further into her body. "mom's almost done. you think you can cum a few more times for me?"
she's already slipping back inside, not waiting for an answer. she sighs as she feels that incredible slide and her tip already squishing against his cervix. when he tries to open his lidded eyes, she can see how he's struggling to keep them uncrossed. "icann'tt," he attempts, but she's already forcing him right open, grinding her sensitive head into that tight pucker.
"doesn't matter," she mutters, angling her hips so he has nowhere to escape from the vibrator again, feeling up the soft peaks of his little tits. "take your breeding."
he frantically holds onto her forearms as she thumbs at his nipples, legs askew and kept apart by her body in between them as she digs deep inside him, and she rumbles in approval. poor fuckin' kid. the noises coming out of him are more akin to small, scared prey. it's incredibly erotic paired with the filthy noises coming from his traumatized conditioned happy pussy. she's so glad she decided to start raping spoiling her kid like this -- this is the best stress relief she's discovered in years. he clearly likes it too -- his underwear is almost always ruined when she does his laundry. he clearly can't get his mom's clit out of his head, even at school. even then, his grades are better, more consistent, and he's made far more friends this year than he usually does. her baby's been glowing. seems like he just needed some momcock to break him out of his shell.
he's already cumming when she bottoms out, a broken, pretty moan stuttering out of her as she feels her balls pulse hard against the cold metal of his plug. she grins, a breathy laugh spilling out of her when he wraps his legs tighter around her with every spurt of her fertile seed. a panicked, fucked-out mommyyy slips from his tightened vocal cords and a grunt escapes her, cock twitching with how hard he's clenching around her. maybe she...shouldn't enjoy this as much as she does, but that just makes it even hotter.
as she works her load into him, she watches him buck up against her with a tight grip still on her arms. the way he's looking at her is so maddeningly innocent, more than a touch of fear there, contrasted with his drooling, dominated pussy. he's practically daring her to keep fucking him full of cum. her cock jerks inside of him at the thought.
fuck. with the rate his breasts are growing...she's really gonna have to start wearing a condom soon.
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For A Fortnight There We Were (One Shot): It Fit Too Right
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a/n: welcome to my all the things i did metaverse. please meet evelyn, a hollywood a-lister who falls in love with her co-star callum turner while filming masters of the air. this will most likely be a request based series so send them all in! would also love to flush out this relationship more with you guys through asks and chats. let me know what you think!!
He stood in the doorway of their hotel suite with a smile as he watched one person tug the corset of her gown tighter, another brush powder across her cheeks and a third place her hair over her shoulder in a meticulous manner. 
“I promise we’re almost done, baby.” 
“Don’t rush perfection on my account,” he said with a smile as he took a few steps into the room. “Let me help, love.” Callum grabbed the pair of heels from her stylist and dropped to one knee, Evelyn steadying herself on his shoulder as he slipped on one shoe and then the other. He kissed up her leg for good measure as she giggled, standing with a matching smile as she pulled him in for a kiss.
“People might get the wrong idea. You being on one knee like that.” In reality, he was just waiting for her to say she was ready and he’d be on one knee with a ring in hand in an instant. 
“The right idea you mean.” Evelyn blushed as her team began to filter out of the room. There was always a moment before every event that the two of them wanted time to themselves. They had gotten used to picking up the tempo for when it was arriving. “One day,” he followed up with a whisper. 
“One day. Soon.” He felt something blossom in his chest at her words. “Help me with my necklace?” The gold chain held a dainty C charm and fit perfectly snug around her neck as he clasped it securely.
“Gave you this necklace almost two years ago. So much has changed since then.” Yet so much had also stayed the same. They were still in each other’s orbit, circling the sun together and happy to live in this pattern for the rest of eternity. 
“And we finally get to show the world our love story.” Callum wrapped his arms around her from behind and they swayed gently to the song playing in his head. “Tracy told me there’s already stories lined up about the timeline of it all. About the overlap of still being legally married and filming the show and meeting you.” Her publicist warned her as soon as the premiere was scheduled that all the questions were going to get dragged up again. The accusations and the whispers of infidelity.
“I know the truth and you know the truth, Ev. That’s all that fucking matters.” The truth was that her marriage was a disaster the entire last year. The fights about his job and her job and fertility issues and the occasional bump of coke all mixing into a toxic sludge she was still working her way through years later.
“You’ll punch anyone who asks on the carpet or on the press tour?” She looked at him over her shoulder. 
“With a smile on my face,” Callum answered with a pucker of his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Begrudgingly, she untangled herself from his arms and interlocked their fingers together in its place. He squeezed tight as they took the elevator down to the lobby with their security, her other hand wrapping around his wrist for two anchor points at the sight of the paparazzi waiting for them on the sidewalk. 
“Evelyn! Callum! Look to the left!
“To the right, guys, come on a little smile please!”
“Callum, how about a kiss?”
His hand landed on the small of her back as he helped her into the waiting SUV before sliding in next to her. Evelyn collapsed as the door shut. “Fucking brutal,” she muttered.
“I’m hoping they get what they want at the carpet and they can leave us alone when we get back tonight.” He reached for her hand and held it in his lap. “What are my lanes in the road for touching you tonight?” 
“Are you feeling particularly handsy tonight, Mr. Turner?” she asked with a smirk as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed across each knuckle. 
“That dress is an inspiration.” She leaned in with a giggle and kissed him square on the mouth. 
“Then make sure everyone there tonight knows that.” His eyebrows raised on their own accord. 
“Yeah? You mean that?” Normally, she was much more reserved. Making him settle for longing stares and soft, hidden smiles and subtle allusions to each other. She hid from all the attention and let her work speak for itself. 
“Maybe…maybe the part of me that always wants to hide should work on healing herself tonight.” It also had been a piece of homework from her therapist this week. 
“Okay. Okay, yeah, we’ll work on it tonight. Together.” 
“Together,” she reiterated as he kissed her hand again and then her lips. 
“You make me so happy. No matter what.” 
“You make me happiest,” she laughed as he buried his face in the crook of her neck and left a few kisses there. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
----
The ride was over all too quickly, the SUV idling at the start of the carpet and the sounds of muffled screaming and yelling reaching their ears instantly. Ever since their relationship had been made public, there had been attention on them like neither had ever experienced. 
She had been called a cheater, he had been called a social climber. Accusations of adultery and a months-long affair behind her husband’s back and questions on how valid Callum’s feelings could be as a less well-known star than her. Hell, Howard Stern had straight up asked her on his radio show how it felt to have power over the person she was in a relationship with when she had been so powerless previously. Callum certainly hadn’t taken kindly to the implication. 
Quarantine had been the perfect bubble for their love to take root and flourish. Had insulated them from the outside world as long as possible and allowed her walls to come down. They were built up so high after her failed marriage. Reinforced as her mind worked through the mental fuckery of falling in love with your co-star. Evelyn hadn’t known where she began and the character ended for the longest time but she knew in her heart she wanted to figure it out with him. 
The roar reached a fever pitch as Callum stepped out of the car, buttoned his jacket and waved to a group of fans on the side. He waited for her, watched her take a deep breath and square her shoulders before she took his outstretched hand and stepped out of the vehicle. 
Her movie star smiled flitted across her face easily as their fingers interlocked and her own hand raised in a wave before letting her boyfriend slot his lips against hers to the delight of the camera flashes. 
“Let’s do a couple autographs before interviews.” Her publicist gently pressed on the small of her back to guide in the direction of glossy photographs and posters and an endless sea of markers.
Evelyn smiled warmly as she let go of his hand and began to scrawl her name across various posters of her in Targaryen garb or an old military uniform or the occasional photo she had taken with a fan previously that they were now adding her penmanship to.
“Can I get a selfie?”
“Yeah of course!” She smiled with as many fans as she could and let them take a few photos to choose from before she was getting the signal it was time to keep it moving. “Thanks for coming!” Evelyn blew a few kisses to the crowd before Callum had her hand right back in his for the ensuing carpet walk. 
“Ev, you want to go first?” Tracy asked as she was beginning to urge her to the first photomark. She hit the X and did her best to look at the cameras like she wanted to fuck them. Those were normally the only shots that kept their hunger sated and kept from yelling too explicitly at her the rest of the night. 
She looked over her shoulder and watched Callum smile and show off his suit like it was second nature and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to look at the photos later to see just how in love she was in this moment. He took her extended hand with a mischievous smile, falling in love all over again with this side of her that he knew well but she kept hidden from the outside world. 
“Let me get the two of you looking to the right!”
“Put your hands on her, mate!” “Look right at the camera with a smile, Evelyn!”
Callum furrowed his brow and wrapped his arm around her waist a little tighter as they kept fighting for a piece of them. They had both worked so hard to keep this one corner of their lives sacred and private but they couldn’t stay that way forever. Especially when they were trying to promote the show that brought them together in the first place. 
“You good?” he asked, leaning in to whisper in her ear.
“Hold my hand the rest of the carpet?”
“Of course, love.” Their eyes stayed locked together as he kissed the back of her hand and they made their way towards the first interviewer. 
“It’s so good to see you guys again!”
“It’s good to see you too! It’s been a minute,” Evelyn replied.
“Last time I saw you, Callum, you were with George Clooney which is a hard interview companion to top-”
“Oh, I’ve done it. This one’s my companion for life.” She couldn’t help but blush at his forwardness. “This show brought so many beautiful people to my life and introduced me to this incredible story of these men and the sacrifices they made for us but I’ll never be able to articulate what meeting this woman and falling in love with her has done for me and the honor that has truly been.” 
“This is why my team is always trying to keep us separate in front of a microphone because we always get a little in our feels about each other.” Evelyn rested her cheek against his chest.
“Tell me about that. You guys film this show and feel some vibes and then the premiere gets delayed for two years. Does this add to the nervousness or does it add to the excitement?”
“Definitely both,” Evelyn teases, “the characters are real people, real heroes, so there is such a desire to make sure the story is told in the most accurate, thankful way. Part of making sure that happened was fully devoting ourselves to the relationship between these two and to discover something real in the process was a really happy accident.” Her hand rested on his cheek and he kissed her palm, looking at her like she was the only girl in the entire world. For him she was.
“We had the opportunity to meet their children and grandchildren which was such a blessing because on paper I was skeptical, it seemed written for the movies, but they had letters and pictures and stories that really showed these two loved each other in a magical way their entire lives.”
“And what’s next for you two? I hear rumors we may see you, Ms. Shaw, in a movie about sand and worms…” Evelyn laughed. 
“I hear Austin Butler loves worms so you should ask him. I know nothing about a movie with those themes.” She mimed sealing her lips and throwing away the key. The interviewer looked to Callum for help.
“Hey, I know even less than you do. This one’s a steel trap.” 
“Alright, I’m getting the signal that the most in demand people on this carpet tonight are needing to move along. Have the best night ever you two!” They both offered their thanks before a team of security and assistants collapsed ranks around them as they moved down the carpet. 
“How’d we do, Trace?” Callum asked as he swung their interlocked hands back and forth. 
“You were on your best behavior. Thank you.” Evelyn was a typical client for a publicist. Did good work and got high profile projects, never caused controversy in an interview but had some skeletons in her closet. Evelyn always did exactly as she asked and took her advice as gospel. Her boyfriend on the other hand was all boisterous and laughed and sang and had not a care in the world. He wanted to hold her and kiss and let the whole world know he was in love with her and scream it from the rooftops. 
“I see Mr. Butler!” Evelyn pointed directly ahead to the tall blonde man taking photos with Barry. “Oh, and Barry! I haven’t seen him recently enough to ask about bathwater.”
“Look who it is! My first and second wheel!” Austin lifted her up and spun her around before greeting Callum. “You two walking together?” While he was very familiar with their PDA behind closed doors, it was rare to see it out in the open. 
“This is as close to her accepting a proposal as I’m gonna get, mate.” Ev rolled her eyes and turned to get in between them for the row of photographers currently screaming at them. She is safe in between the two of them. Had needed every ounce of it when she had arrived on set all those years ago. 
She knew Callum had a ring tucked away somewhere safe. Knew he was dying with every passing day to make things between them official forever. She meant soon when she had said it earlier. 
Evelyn looked up at him as the camera continued to blind her and she tuned them out. She smiled and he smiled right back. “I love you,” he whispered so it existed just between the two of them. 
“I love you, too. So much.” 
Yes. Soon indeed.
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The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)
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Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, some references to past sexual trauma (nothing graphic), a Pap smear (aka the WORST medical exam and I will stand by that) Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: It's Emily's first non-local case since finding out you were pregnant, and you're both struggling. Especially because it means she'll have to miss you first prenatal appointment–and the first sound of your baby's heartbeat. Maybe there's still a way to share the moment, though...
Week 10: The Kumquat
Your heart beat wildly as you pulled into the parking lot of the OBGYN’s office. You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and checked your phone. Nothing. You groaned and rubbed your forehead.
You had a hard time with doctors, particularly with gynecologists–a stubborn remnant of past trauma. Emily knew that. Emily knew it was your first appointment and that you’d be scared. She’d wanted to come along; she would have asked all the questions you'd forget.
But duty called. It always did. You’d gotten lucky over the last month since finding out you were pregnant. The BAU hadn’t caught any huge cases and, even the cases they did catch had been local enough that Emily still made it home to you most nights. But, of course, your luck had run out.
You were angry with Emily for leaving, but you knew that was unreasonable. This is what you’d signed up for. Her job was important to her. It was important to you. The fact that she was so passionate about and dedicated to her team and the work they did was one of the things you loved most about her. You were always sad to see her leave and, yes, sometimes frustrated when she had to miss things you’d planned together, but at the end of the day, you knew she loved you, and that was all that mattered.
But this time. This time you were struggling. You tried not to take it out on Emily too much; it wasn’t her fault that your hormones were going wild. You were more everything than usual. More angry at her for leaving, more sad while she was gone, more terrified of going to the doctor.
You glared at your message-less phone for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and texting Emily.
Headed into the OBGYN🤞 I wish you were here. Be safe love 💗
You waited a few minutes with no response, taking a deep breath to swallow your rage. For all you knew, she could be in a bulletproof vest trying to talk down a murderer right now. She loves you, you reminded yourself. If she could be here, she would.
In the office, you were assaulted with the smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. You filled out what felt like a full novella of personal and family medical history. When they finally called you back, you felt like a science experiment–poked and prodded and measured. When the doctor pulled out the stirrups, you flinched.
“Is that necessary?” you asked.
She nodded at you. “Sorry. It’s just been long enough since your last Pap smear that I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
You hated it. Hated the whole process, you always did. It was painful and invasive and it made you remember things you’d really rather not remember. Emily usually went with you, to let you squeeze her hand and to whisper that it was okay, you were safe.
You clenched and felt tears prick at your eyes as the cold metal forced its way into you. Hands gripping at the paper covering the seat, you tried your very best to imagine Emily’s voice, her face, the smell of her hair. And you tried not to feel too furious that she wasn’t there. It’s not her fault, you repeated like a mantra.
They took some blood, they asked about running tests to screen for the baby’s health.
“Yes,” you said. “Run all of them.”
“The good news,” the doctor continued, “about these tests is that you also get to find out the gender earlier if that’s something you want.”
You knew you’d need to talk to Emily about it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Emily stubbornly calling the baby he, so sure was she that it was a boy, and you calling the baby she out of pure spite, had become an endearing part of your pregnancy to you. You might just rather be surprised.
“Now for the fun part!” the doctor said, clapping her hands together. “Would you like to try and find the heartbeat?”
Your stomach fluttered with excitement. “Really!? Isn’t it too early?”
“Sometimes we can hear it early with Doppler.”
You nodded vigorously, lifting up your shirt. It was the only time in your life you’d voluntarily had a doctor examine you.
She pressed the device to your lower belly, searching for sound. You waited rapt, barely breathing, so scared were you that you’d miss it.
But then: a whooshing sound and a quick, urgent, pattering heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. You grinned wide.
“That’s her?” you asked, giddy.
The doctor nodded.
You felt like crying, from pure joy, but also because you wished Emily was here. She would be so sad, so sad, to have missed this. But maybe you could bring the heartbeat to her.
You took out your phone. “Can I record this?” you asked. “I want to send it to my wife.”
“Of course,” the doctor said.
You pressed the record button on your Voice Memos, and recorded a good thirty seconds of the baby’s heartbeat, knowing that Emily would listen to it again and again and again.
When you finally left the office, proud of yourself, you hopped in the car and checked your phone. Still nothing. You sent off another text to Emily.
Must be a hard day. ❤️Here’s something to cheer you up! 👶🏻🫀I miss you. Call when you can.
Later that night, as you lay in bed reading, your phone started buzzing. You smiled wide. Emily.
“Good evening, Agent Prentiss,” you joked.
“The heartbeat!” she squealed, so loud you had to hold the phone away from your ear.
You grinned and gushed. “Isn’t it the most beautiful heartbeat you’ve ever heard!?”
“Yes! After yours, of course.”
“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.”
“I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Emily sounded genuinely sad. “Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
“It’s okay,” you said, most of your anger dissipating the moment the words I’m sorry left her mouth.
“It’s not okay. I should’ve been there. You hate going to the doctor, and it’s our baby. It’ll get easier after we tell my team. Then I can take a step back.”
“It’s really okay, Em.”
She sighed, and you could tell there was nothing you could say that would alleviate her guilt. She’d carry it with her until she was home again, until she could scoop you up and hold you and take care of you the way she wanted to.
“Was everything okay? With you and Little Kumquat?”
“Kumquat looks good. Healthy as a horse. I–” You thought about the Pap smear, the taste of metal seeping into your mouth. “I’m okay, too.”
“You’re lying.” Emily’s voice shifted, now deep and concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”
“I’m not lying!” Sometimes you really hated being married to a profiler.
Emily grew more panicked. “Is something wrong? Honey, do I need to come home?”
“No! Em, it’s just…” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “They had to do a Pap smear.”
The line was quiet for a moment before Emily spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you answered, shaky, afraid if you tried to say more you might start crying.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I know how hard those are for you.”
You stayed quiet, willing yourself not to cry. Emily felt guilty enough; you crying would make it ten times worse.
“Listen, I’m at a hotel tonight, okay? I’ll have my phone by me all night. I know sometimes you get nightmares after, so just call me if you wake up, okay?”
“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” you said softly. “You need sleep.”
“I won’t sleep one wink if I’m worried about you all night, so promise me you’ll call.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Thank you. Ugh, Rossi’s waving me over. I gotta go, but I love you so much, and I miss you every second, and I can’t wait to get home to you.” 
“I love you, too.”
You slept with your phone on the pillow next to you that night, and it wasn’t the same as having Emily there, especially when you woke up gasping in a cold sweat. But her voice lulling you back to sleep was pretty close, and you were so, so glad to have her–even from far away.
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beary-rambles · 2 days
Text
Undeniable Desire
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c.w season two spoilers; characters (addam and nettles), mention of dragonseeds (nothing more), loss of virginity (jacaerys) non virgin reader, smut, fingering (fem), oral (fem), p in v, clothed sex ?, possessive jacaerys, not proofread
summary: You are dragonseed and have become good friends with the prince. You think nothing of it and not expecting your desires to lead to anything but when you speak of what you think of your future his truer colors show.
w.c: 1.8k
a.n: anybody else cant stop thinking about bridgerton LMAO, i need to rewatch soon, anyways i hope you all enjoy :3 promise im getting around to requests i just needed to push out this idea 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS
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You finally manage to shake off addam and his drunken rampage with a laugh telling him off. “come on you cant leave yet.” “I am going to bed you fool leave me be.” You knock him upside the head and he groans giving you the opportunity to walk away and turn back to the rest of them with a wave. Chimes of goodnights and sleep well are what your met with and you walk away, feeling eyes burning into you you turn back once more and see him staring at you with an unknown look on his face, taking a drink out of his chalice ignoring alyn next to him who was talking his ear off, not even sparing him a glance as he continues to stare at you.
You turn around attempting to ignore how your stomach burns and your face heats at the thought of him. Jacaerys Velaryon. You just like the rest of your ‘dragonseed’ friends have grown close to jacaerys during your time together. Yet you can’t help but feel their was something different about the way he looked at you and even other people can’t help but notice it either.
‘He is definitely wants to fuck you.’ ‘Nettles!’ The girl next to you laughs before chugging down her wine. ‘Do not say such things.’ Addam walks over and drops down to the spot next to you, ‘what are you two talking about?’ ‘The prince.’ ‘ah and how he wants to shag miss oblivious right here.’ ‘did you guys plan this?!’ You in your frustration rip the cup out of addams hands and chug it. ‘its not our fault he makes it so painfully obvious and you are so painfully oblivious to it.’ You shake your head and keep your gaze at the campfire in front of you. ‘It is not true.’ you don’t see the way the pair look at each other and instead start picking at the grass near you.
Even if it was true it wouldn’t matter, you certainly had no intention of sleeping with him. He was betrothed and he certainly did not seem like the type of man to lay around with any women he saw fit. He was the crowned prince for gods sake the heir to the queen and you were in the middle of a damn succession war feelings be damned and you were certain your friends were just playing jokes on you and he certainly just saw you as a friend.
You think nothing of it as you are getting ready to go to bed, just having put on your night gown after your bath, when the flap of your tent opens and you turn to it alarmed and let out a sigh of relief when you see him. “I am sorry i did not mean to disturb you.” “It is no issue my prince, Do you need something?”
You turn back to the mirror and fiddle around with your hair, eyeing the prince through the mirror. He just stares at you for a moment and takes a drink from his cup, you gulp and look away from him, pushing down your own desires attempting to stop your imagination from running wild. What if he just walked over to you and pushing you against the mirror, ripping off your dress and having his way with you, maybe he would drop to his knees and wrap his lips around your pearl, only letting go until you were withering and begging him to stop.
You shake your head and “Would it be selfish of me to admit i missed you? i feel as though we did not talk much today?” You smile lightly at his words and curse yourself for thinking such terrible things. Of course he simply just wished to see you, as he had been busy with his duties all day, only getting to see you all at the end of they day only for you to leave before getting to say a single word to him.
“You honor me my prince with your time.” He shakes his head with a laugh taking another sip, “i would give you anything in the world.” You flush and look down, fiddling with your dress too embarrassed to move from your place in front of the mirror. Hes just being dramatic you think, he does not mean what he says, especially since he seems to be drinking. “You are too kind my prince.” “Call me Jace i beg of you.” “Would you truly beg me?” “I would get on my knees at your feet and do whatever you asked.” Your knees shake as you press your thighs together, the heat between you legs almost unbearable, a part of you wants to shoo him away so you can put your hand between your legs and take care of yourself or find some poor soul in the camp to relieve yourself with. You don’t, you cannot simply ask him to leave for such selfish reasons, especially since you know deep deep down that if you sought out somebody else you would only be thinking about him.
He seems to realize you don’t plan on saying anything so he begins to speak. “You know they were all talking about something.” You give him an interested look in the mirror and he takes another sip, “About what they were planning on doing after this fight is over. Do you have any thoughts? About what you plan to do?” You look up in thought, “I haven't given it much thought if im being honest.” He hums but says nothing. “Maybe i go off to the reach, it sounds very lovely.” “You would not stay in the keep?” You laugh at his idea and shake your head, “Why would i stay there? What would you miss me?” He says nothing and you don't look at him, instead continue talking, lost in your own imagination. “I would probably travel around for a bit, then find some lord to marry he fuck some babies into me and then i live the rest of my life-” You gasp as your suddenly pushed against the mirror being completely trapped by him, you hadn’t even registered the cup being thrown to the ground.
“My prince?” He flips you around suddenly and your eye to eye with him. His hands grip your waist and pull you directly against him. “You will not leave.” “I don't understand-” “You are not going anywhere you will stay by my side.” He has an animalistic look about him, like he's about to eat you whole, completely bewildered by the idea of you leaving. “I have no place in the keep.” “Your place is by my side.” His words have such a finality and certainty about them as if he's giving you no reason to argue with him. “You are to be married, This is highly inappropriate.” Your words are pushed out like puffs of air as his hands have moved up to your chest, rubbing your nipples through the fabric, you can feel him hardening between your legs. “I shall take you as a my second wife, no one will argue i will be king.” “You are being absurd.” “Do you desire me?”
You pull him into a heated kiss. He quickly reciprocates, his hands moving from your waist to under your night gown and he lets out a delighted hum at the liquid on your thighs. ‘Are you bare?” “I was planning on sleeping.” He moans lightly before he pauses before actually touching, “Do you want this?” you nod feverishly, “Please touch me please.” wasting no more time he runs his fingers along your folds, “This is for me right? and no some stupid pompous lord in the reach.” “yes yes.” You answer him but he doesn't seem to be listening, mumbling to himself in anger. “I hate the lords in the reach, always with each other heads in their asses no way you will marry any of them, let them put a baby in you.” He sticks two fingers inside you, “I wouldn’t i wouldn’t only you.” The pit in your lower stomach grows as you watch in shock him drop to his knees in front of you, his body being lost to your gown as he begins to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers moving quicker to pump in and out of you.
You cannot speak so much of his name. Using one of your hands to cover your mouth to not draw attention to yourself, the other plays with one of your tits, sliding it under your dress. He does not let up, even has you orgasm once then twice, only releasing you after the third time and you fall back, leaning against the mirror with wobbly legs as he keeps a tight grip on you holding you up as he stands. You can see the shine of your own essence on his lips and jaw, you swear you can even see some of it dripping down his neck into his collarbone.
He simply stands there and watches you fiddle around with his pants to free him for a few moments as he licks his lips. “You do not know how often i have thought about this.” You look up at him and give him a smile, “You think of me?” “Every minute of everyday, my waking thoughts and my dreams are only filled with you.”
Before you know it he is pushing into you with a hiss and you chuckle with a delighted moan at his closed eyes and clenched teeth. “First time?” “I may not have been your first but i will be your last.” Giving himself a second to get used to your pulsing warm walls that seem to be sucking him in every second he begins to move. Hes a little sloppy, clearly unsure and if anything a little unconfident about what he’s supposed to do. You place your head on his neck, making sure your lips are right next to his ear and you begin to move your hips to meet his, moaning in his ear only for him to hear.
He gains confidence after a few moments and soon enough you have no longer and need to meet him as he begins to pound into you diligently. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his tunic as the pit in your stomach grows once more. “please tell me your close.” You’re shocked he’s even managed to last this long but nod and he groans in delight. “Please peak please together.”
The mirror behind you is completely covered with a foggy mist just as your eyes are when you finally release. You pray as you catch your breath that you two were quiet enough because you would rather be dead than me made fun of by your friends for finally fucking the prince. But as you feel his seed running out your lips and down your thigh you decide maybe it was worth it.
--
perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese
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liliththeimp · 2 days
Text
Farmhand! Simon HC’s (fem!reader, SFW)
Farmhand. Farmhand but in a way that will water down the harsh southern living into sweet tea and fireflies and cattle all because I'm a silly delulu squirrel who wants my life to be easy right now.
I'm into escapism and fake scenarios can't you tell?
Anywho, my main point about this is I can't stop thinking about farmhand! Simon and its curing my depression a little bit so heres some head cannons lol
(Ain’t proof read, per usual :P)
—————
Farmhand! Simon, who you met after returning home from a trip with your friends, the new masked face a surprise addition to your grandfather’s ranch, considering your grandfather ain’t one who asked for help often. Let alone someone from England.
Farmhand! Simon, who decided to move to the states for a job opportunity, and innocently assuming he’d take care of a lonesome old couple and that was that. Little did h know he’d find your cute little puppy ass fluttering around him curiously every time he turned around.
Farmhand! Simon, who is very distant and quiet, no matter what advances you made to try and slink around to bother him, he would always shy away with a grunt and wrangled horses into their stalls, and your guess was he wasn’t very friendly.
Farmhand! Simon, who is embarrassed by your sudden appearances and advances into helping. He’s grateful for his hat and the bandana tied around his face to hide his embarrassment around you- otherwise you’d find out underneath all that he loved checking you out in that short red gingham dress, the way it rode up your thighs when you bent over the fences to hand him water or reach for his hat to spite a reaction from him.
Farmhand! Simon, who will wake up at the crack of dawn to make back tea and gets the feeding out of the way, so if you woke up early enough, you were able to spot him hard at work before the sun glinted across him.
Farmhand! Simon, who helped carry laundry baskets for you outside before rudely dropping them to go collect some bails of hay for the horses, it only because he got so embarrassed by the way you’d look up to him as you talked, fluttering your lashes like you two were friends.
Farmhand! Simon, who finds you asleep in an empty hay-blanketed horse stall next to Gideon, the newborn horse calf. It melted his heart a bit, seeing the glow on the sunset glisten across your skin, kissing your hair and making you glow even more than you should. To see you curled up against the calf so sweetly.
Farmhand! Simon, who begrudgingly picked you up from your napping post and up into his arms effortlessly, carrying you across the field for a few minutes to admire your sleepy features, the way you twitched your nose, the way you curled up against his chest, curling the fabric of his flannel in your fingers as if you weren’t close enough.
Farmhand! Simon, who put you up to your bed, brushing a stray curl from your temple to hesitantly peck your forehead, bushing his finger across your lips for good measure.
Farmhand! Simon, who will eventually start to come closer to you, and begins to allow your help around the ranch.
Farmhand! Simon, who will work from 5am-12pm for a break and walks in on your making him some lunch (embarrassingly refuses to eat in front of you, instead goes out into the barn to eat with the animals.)
Farmhand! Simon, who nearly looses his mind at how you cook for him, sweet or savory, he thinks it’s divine.
Farmhand! Simon, who got so love sick at your appreciation, went to an auction and got you a new calf, which you name Duck.
Farmhand! Simon, who starts thinking this is your illegitimate child together, (will also get a bit jealous at your attention for the calf instead of him, he wouldn’t allow himself to really feel to though, cause why would he want that nasty fluffy crap?)
Farmhand! Simon, who will bring you out late at night to capture deep in the woods, the virescent glow of fireflies that dances around you lit up your eyes with a beaming smile like some puppy chasing them through the trees, while he watches for afar, finding that this was the moment he fell in love with you.
Farmhand! Simon, who has gotten so comfortable, on his breaks he’ll let you make him picnics and eats with his bandana off, but inched away -only cause he’s shy of you starring at him like he stares at you- or the potential denial of his scarred features who scare you away,
Farmhand! Simon, who will give you a giant bear hug before you or he goes anywhere, just to make sure ;)…especially if youre out in town, he’ll be sure to keep any small town weirdos from getting to close to you.
Farmhand! Simon, who will eventually become so lax around you, he enjoys the time you take to be around him, laying your head on his stomach as you read, the low buzz of the radio drifting around you with the sound of crickets starting to chime together at the sunset. While Simon’s hand had a beer in it, the free one hesitantly inches towards the ends of your hair, twirling the strand around experimentally, hoping you didnt feel it while he memorized the softness and texture, hoping one of these days he can fully run his and through your hair.
Farmhand! Simon, who eventually kisses you the night before you leave for college, wanting you to understand he would wait for you, if you’d wait for him too.
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pin-k-ink · 2 days
Note
(Since you were asking for a thirst HAHDNDJDNDSN)
My man (Fukuzawa) has few smut here in tumblr, he needs justice.
And I needed to be manhandled by that fine dilf.
— 🌊🪷
crucible // fukuzawa yukichi
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tw ⇢ jealous!fukuzawa, possessive!fukuzawa, so much sexual tension, fukuzawa in denial, making out, teasing, office sex, sir kink cx its fukuzawa, rough sex, manhandling ofc, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, creampie, dirty talk, spanking
wc ⇢ 5.2k
a/n: anon, you just reawakened my love for fictional characters nearly twice my age
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The oppressive August heat blanketed Yokohama, the air heavy and thick, clinging to your skin like a damp cloth. In the offices of the Armed Detective Agency, the ancient air conditioner wheezed and rattled, providing little relief from the sweltering temperatures. Beads of sweat gathered at your brow and trickled down the back of your neck as you sat at your desk, trying to focus on the stack of case files in front of you.
But your mind kept drifting, your thoughts inevitably drawn to the Agency's distinguished leader, Yukichi Fukuzawa. From the moment you'd started working here, you'd been captivated by him - his sophisticated air, his commanding presence, the way his steely gaze seemed to pierce right through you. It was more than just physical attraction, though that was certainly part of it. There was something about him, an aura of power and control, that drew you like a moth to a flame.
You knew it was risky, knew that getting involved with your boss was a recipe for disaster. But you couldn't help yourself. Every interaction with him left you wanting more, your skin buzzing with a kind of electric anticipation.
It started small, innocently enough. A smile that lingered just a beat too long, a brush of fingers as you handed him a file. But as the months went by, you grew bolder, more overt in your flirtations.
Each morning, you greeted Fukuzawa with a smile that bordered on coy, your voice low and honeyed. "Good morning, sir," you'd purr, leaning in just a little too close as you handed him his daily schedule. The subtle widening of his eyes, the almost imperceptible hitch in his breath, was all the encouragement you needed.
You started putting more effort into your appearance, choosing blouses that hugged your curves, skirts that fell just an inch shorter than was strictly professional. You told yourself it wasn't for him, that you just wanted to feel good about yourself. But deep down, you knew the truth. You wanted him to notice you, to feel the weight of his gaze on your skin.
And notice he did. You'd catch him watching you as you moved around the office, his eyes following the sway of your hips, lingering on the exposed slice of skin at your throat. His face would remain impassive, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers would tighten around his pen.
It became a kind of game, a forbidden dance of push and pull. You'd lean over his desk to point out a detail in a report, letting your blouse gape open just enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. You'd brush past him in the hallway, your hand grazing his arm, letting the contact linger a moment longer than necessary.
Each small victory sent a thrill through you, a heady rush of power. You were getting to him, chipping away at that legendary self-control. It was only a matter of time before he snapped.
But it wasn't enough. The more you got, the more you wanted. Stolen glances and fleeting touches only fanned the flames of your desire, leaving you aching and restless. You found yourself daydreaming during the long, humid afternoons, your mind conjuring up vivid fantasies of Fukuzawa's hands on your body, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin. You'd imagine him bending you over his desk, his fingers digging into your hips as he finally fucked you, claiming you as his own.
The fantasies were so real, so visceral, that you'd often snap out of them flushed and breathless, your heart racing and your pussy throbbing with need. You'd clench your thighs together, trying to quell the ache, but it was never enough. You wanted him, needed him, with an intensity that frightened and exhilarated you in equal measure.
And so, you started pushing harder, growing bolder in your advances. Determined to shatter his iron self-control, to make him admit that he wanted you just as desperately as you wanted him.
You began openly flirting with the other men in the office, particularly Atsushi, the youngest and most naive of the bunch. You'd perch on the edge of his desk, leaning in close as you pointed out details in case files, letting your breasts brush against his arm. You'd laugh just a little too loudly at his jokes, tossing your hair over your shoulder and fixing him with a dazzling smile.
And all the while, you'd feel Fukuzawa's gaze burning into your back, his eyes tracking your every move. You'd see his jaw clench, his fist tighten at his side, and a dark thrill would course through you. He was jealous, you could tell. The knowledge was intoxicating.
Late one sweltering evening, as you were leaving the office, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa's hand close around your wrist. Before you could respond, he was guiding you into his office and shutting the door behind you. Your heart raced at his proximity, the air practically crackling between you.
"Your behavior has been quite inappropriate," he said in a low voice, his eyes boring into yours. "If you continue this way, there will be consequences."
His gaze drifted to your lips and for a wild, breathless moment, you were sure he was going to kiss you. But then he released you and took a measured step back, leaving you dizzy and aching for more.
In the days that followed, the memory of that charged moment in Fukuzawa's office lingered, a constant distraction. Your skin prickled with awareness whenever he was near, your body attuned to his presence like a tuning fork. You tried to focus on your work, but your mind kept conjuring up the phantom sensation of his fingers wrapped around your wrist, the heat of his gaze on your mouth.
You dialed back on your flirtations with the other men, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop teasing Fukuzawa. If anything, you became bolder, more overt in your intentions. You started staying late at the office, finding excuses to be alone with him. In the evenings, when the rest of the staff had gone home, you'd slip into his office with flimsy pretexts, perching on the edge of his desk and leaning in close as you spoke.
During one such encounter, emboldened by the late hour and the intimacy of the dimly lit room, you placed your hand over his as you pointed out a detail in a case file. Fukuzawa stilled, his eyes flickering to yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his hand over beneath yours, his palm hot against your own.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he said quietly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His fingers curled around yours, just for a moment, before he drew away.
You knew he was right, knew that you were both wading into treacherous waters. But you were too far gone to turn back now, too intoxicated by the simmering tension that coiled between you.
As the summer heat rose, so did the stakes of your forbidden dance. Stolen glances turned into fleeting caresses, plausible deniability becoming paper-thin. The air grew heavy with unspoken desire, with the tantalizing promise of what could be.
And then, one storm-dark night, the levee finally broke.
You were working late again, poring over witness statements, when the power suddenly cut out. The office was plunged into darkness, the only illumination coming from the occasional flash of lightning outside the rain-lashed windows. You heard Fukuzawa's office door open, heard his measured footsteps approaching.
"The whole block is out," he said, his tall silhouette appearing in your doorway. "We might as well call it a night."
You nodded, your tongue suddenly feeling too thick for your mouth. A strange anticipation crackled through you as you gathered your things by feel, every nerve ending alight. You startled when you felt Fukuzawa's hand on the small of your back, guiding you out into the pitch-black hallway.
In the darkness, every sensation was magnified. The sound of your breathing, the warm press of his palm against your spine, the electric awareness of his body mere inches from yours. Your heart was beating so loudly, you were certain he must hear it.
And then, between one step and the next, Fukuzawa halted. His hand slid slowly up your back, his fingers curling around your nape. You turned to face him, dizzy with want, scarcely daring to breathe.
For a long, suspended moment, you hovered there in the charged darkness. The air felt thick, weighted with expectation. You could just make out the gleam of Fukuzawa's eyes, could feel the tension emanating from him in waves.
"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice rough as gravel, "and I will."
But you didn't want him to stop. You wanted him to keep going, to finally unleash the pent-up hunger that had been consuming you for months. Throwing caution to the wind, you closed the last breath of distance between you and captured his lips with your own...
Heart pounding, you melted into Fukuzawa's embrace, your lips moving feverishly against his. His mouth was hot and insistent, his strong hands gripping your hips as he backed you up against the wall. You gasped as your back hit the cool surface, the contrast with your overheated skin sending sparks rushing through you.
Fukuzawa took advantage of your parted lips, deepening the kiss with a low groan that reverberated through your body. You clung to his broad shoulders, dizzy with sensation, your head spinning with the headiness of finally, finally having him exactly where you'd wanted him for so long.
His hands roamed your curves possessively, setting you alight even through the barrier of your clothing. His hands slid up your thighs, under your skirt, his fingers digging into your flesh. Dimly, you registered the rasp of his stubble against your skin, the throaty sounds of desire he made as he kissed you senseless. It was better than anything you had imagined, the reality of him overwhelming your every sense.
Lost in a haze of lust, it took you a moment to realize that Fukuzawa had suddenly stilled. His lips broke away from yours and he drew back slightly, his breath coming harsh and fast. Confusion cut through the fog of your arousal as he grasped your shoulders and gently but firmly set you away from him.
"We can't do this," he said, his voice strained. Even in the darkness, you could see the conflict etched on his face. "It's not right."
"What?" you managed, your kiss-bruised lips still tingling, your body thrumming with need. "But I thought-"
"This is a mistake," Fukuzawa cut you off, running a hand distractedly through his hair. "I'm your superior. I have a responsibility to maintain professional boundaries. No matter how much I..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. This ends now, before it goes any further."
You felt like he'd doused you in ice water, shock and hurt warring within you. You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. Your throat felt tight, your eyes stinging with the sudden threat of tears.
Fukuzawa exhaled heavily, his expression pained. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have let it get this far. It won't happen again."
And with that, he turned and strode away, leaving you alone in the dark hallway, your lips still swollen from his kisses, your heart in shreds at your feet. You hugged your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling chilled despite the muggy heat.
The storm raged on outside, rain lashing against the windows, wind rattling the panes. But it was nothing compared to the tempest inside you - a maelstrom of frustration, rejection, and an ache so sharp it stole your breath.
How were you supposed to face him after this, knowing how good it could be between you, only to have it snatched away? How could you just forget the searing press of his mouth, the urgency of his touch?
Somehow, you'd have to find a way to lock down your treacherous heart, to bury your desire so deep that even you couldn't feel it anymore. The alternative - pining for a man you couldn't have, burning for his forbidden touch - was unthinkable.
But as you finally turned to leave, your legs unsteady beneath you, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. That the undeniable pull between you and Fukuzawa was too powerful to be extinguished by duty or propriety.
One way or another, you knew you'd end up back in his arms. It was only a matter of time.
In the days following your heated encounter with Fukuzawa in the darkened office, you couldn't stop thinking about the electrifying feel of his lips on yours, the urgent press of his body against your own. The memory seared through you at the most inopportune moments, leaving you aching and distracted.
Though a part of you knew you should heed Fukuzawa's words and maintain a professional distance, you found yourself incapable of letting go. If anything, his rejection only fanned the flames of your desire, your need to prove yourself irresistible. You became utterly determined to shatter his iron self-control.
You began putting extra effort into your appearance each morning, choosing outfits that clung to your curves, leaving tantalizing slices of skin bare. You made sure to bend over just so when placing documents on his desk, relishing the way his eyes would follow the lines of your body before he caught himself.
In meetings, you started openly staring at him, your gaze heated and unwavering. You'd trace your lower lip with the tip of your pen, gratified to see his eyes dart to your mouth, his fingers tightening imperceptibly on his pen. Under the guise of friendly touches, you'd graze your fingers along his arm or shoulder, feeling the way he'd tense at the contact.
But you didn't limit your newfound boldness to Fukuzawa. You dialed your flirtations up with all the men in the office. You'd perch on the edge of their desks, crossing your legs so your skirt rode up just a little too high. You'd casually touch their hands or face while laughing at their jokes, tossing your hair over your shoulder coquettishly.
All the while, you could feel the weight of Fukuzawa's stare boring into you, his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with a potent mix of disapproval and barely suppressed jealousy. You reveled in his attention, positive reinforcement for your provocative behavior.
Late one night, as you were once again working overtime, you decided to up the ante. Slipping out of your heels, you padded silently to Fukuzawa's office, easing the door open without knocking. He glanced up sharply from his paperwork, his eyes widening when he saw you leaning against the door frame.
You smiled, slow and feline, stalking towards Fukuzawa's desk with deliberate sways of your hips. Each step seemed to echo in the charged silence of the dimly lit office. The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of unspoken desire and anticipation. You could feel Fukuzawa's gaze on you, tracking your every movement with an intensity that made your skin prickle with heat.
As you reached his desk, you placed your palms flat on the polished wood, leaning forward slightly. The action caused your blouse to gape open just a little, offering a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. You heard Fukuzawa's sharp intake of breath, saw his eyes flicker down for the briefest of moments before he wrenched them back up to your face.
"What are you doing here so late?" he asked, his voice carefully controlled.
"I thought you could use some company," you purred, your voice low and sultry. "And I had a few...questions about the case."
Fukuzawa's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. His hands, resting on the desk, curled into fists as if he was physically restraining himself from reaching for you. "It's late," he said, his tone carefully measured, but you could hear the undercurrent of strain beneath the words. "Any questions can wait until morning."
Undeterred by his dismissal, you circled around the desk, trailing your fingertips along the smooth surface. Fukuzawa watched you warily, his body tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap. When you reached his side, you perched yourself on the edge of the desk, crossing your legs slowly, deliberately. The hem of your skirt rode up, revealing a tantalizing expanse of thigh, the lacy edge of your stockings just peeking out.
Fukuzawa's gaze followed the movement, his eyes darkening with barely suppressed hunger. His hands clenched on the armrests of his chair, the leather creaking under the force of his grip. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him, the air between your bodies crackling with electricity.
Emboldened by his reaction, you leaned in closer, placing your hand on his thigh. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly. "But I want your input now, boss," you breathed, your lips just inches from his ear. "I'm sure we can find a way to...stimulate some insights."
For a long, suspended moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was the ragged tempo of your breathing, the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears. Fukuzawa seemed frozen, torn between the compulsion to maintain his professionalism and the undeniable pull of his desire. You could see the conflicting emotions warring in his eyes, the desperate struggle for control.
Then, in a sudden flurry of movement, Fukuzawa surged to his feet. His chair clattered backwards, forgotten, as he gripped you by the upper arms, hauling you up with him. Before you could even gasp, he had spun you around, pressing you up against the wall with the solid heat of his body.
Your breath left you in a rush as your back hit the hard surface, your chest heaving against his. Fukuzawa's hands slid down to your wrists, pinning them beside your head as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His eyes were wild, almost black in the low light, boring into you with an intensity that made you tremble.
"You just can't leave well enough alone, can you?" he rasped, his voice rough and gravelly with barely leashed hunger. "You're determined to drive me to madness."
Your lips parted, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but it dissolved into a soft moan as Fukuzawa ducked his head, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. A shudder rippled through you at the contact, heat pooling low in your belly. You arched into him instinctively, craving more, desperate for the feel of his hands, his lips on your body.
"I only want to drive you to honesty," you managed to gasp out, your fingers threading through his silver hair, holding him to you. "Admit it - you want me as badly as I want you."
Fukuzawa groaned against your throat, the sound vibrating through you like a tuning fork. His grip on your wrists tightened reflexively as he fought for control, his breath coming in harsh pants against your skin. "We shouldn't," he ground out, even as his hips pressed more insistently into yours, betraying the depth of his need. "It's wrong. But..."
You writhed against him, desperate for more friction, more contact. "But what?" you prompted breathlessly, already knowing the answer but needing to hear him say it.
Fukuzawa raised his head, his eyes locking with yours. In their depths, you saw the last vestiges of his resistance crumble, the iron bands of his control shattering like spun glass. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough, weighted with promise and dark, delicious threat.
"But...I can no longer stand by while you openly flaunt yourself at every available man in this office," he growled, his gaze dropping hungrily to your parted lips as if he was resisting the urge to claim them with his own. "No more games, no more teasing. You're mine, and I intend to make sure you never forget it."
You felt a delicious shiver rush through you at his tone - was this the unraveling you had been hoping to provoke? Boldly holding his smoldering stare, you replied, "Is that so? And what’re you going to do to me...Sir?"
A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw as he seemed to wrestle with his self-restraint. Then, quicker than you could react, his hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back roughly.
"This..." he growled an instant before crushing his mouth against yours in a searing, hungry kiss.
You gasped at the ferocity of his passion, all the built-up tension he had been holding back now pouring into his ardent caresses. Your hands clutched at the front of his kimono as you met his fervor with your own desperate want.
Your fingers fumbled with the fabric as your mouth hungrily moved against his. He groaned into the searing kiss, the vibration sending sparks of need coursing through your veins. You managed to part the fabric enough to rake your nails over his toned chest, relishing in the way his muscles twitched at your touch.
Fukuzawa broke away with a ragged breath, his forehead pressed against yours as he gazed at you with molten eyes. "You've tormented me for far too long with your wanton behavior," he murmured, his voice strained with restrained desire. "Did you think I was blind to the way you paraded about, taunting me?"
You opened your mouth to respond, but any retort was swallowed by another kiss. This time he didn't hold back, pinning you firmly against the wall as one calloused hand boldly skimmed over the curve of your hip and thigh, squeezing your ass. You shuddered and arched shamelessly into his touch, silently pleading for him to continue his intoxicating exploration.
He trailed scorching open-mouth kisses along the column of your neck, his hot breath fanning over your sensitized skin. "Perhaps now you'll learn there are consequences for playing with fire," Fukuzawa rasped, his husky tone and the roll of his hips against yours making you dizzy with longing.
With your pussy throbbing and breath coming in shallow pants, you sought purchase by clutching at the broad planes of his back. All this time you had been determined to make this unshakable man crack - but now that he had, you were overwhelmed by the force of his smoldering passion. You wanted to drown in it, consequences be damned.
Fukuzawa's normally immaculate appearance was in delicious disarray - his kimono hanging open, hair tousled from your roaming hands. He pinned you with a look that made your insides liquify as his large, calloused hands skimmed over the bare skin of your thighs and lower back.
"Look at the temptress now," he rumbled, his voice husky and laced with want. "So responsive to my touch after batting those pretty lashes at every other man here."
You opened your mouth to respond, but only a breathy whimper escaped as Fukuzawa rolled his hips firmly against yours, allowing you to feel the undeniable hardness of his cock. Heat lanced through your cunt at the delicious friction.
"I should have acted on this long ago," he murmured against the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Shown you exactly where your teasing leads..."
His words had you trembling with heady anticipation. You fisted your hands in his kimono, tugging him even closer as your pulse thundered in your ears. "Then show me," you managed to rasp, throwing caution to the wind.
Fukuzawa's intense gaze searched yours for a molten moment before he captured your lips in another searing, demanding kiss. His large hands cradled you almost reverently as he walked you backwards towards the sofa, your sense of surroundings fading until there was only the roaring need between your entwined bodies.
With a resolute tug, your clothing began to peel away, his fiery caresses branding your bare skin as you finally surrendered to the lust that had been simmering for far too long. The air was thick and heavy with the weight of your desire, the office silent save for the mingled sounds of your heated breaths and moans.
The sofa bumped against the back of your legs and you tumbled onto it, gazing up at the imposing man towering over you. Even in this compromising position, Fukuzawa radiated authority, his gaze dark and intent as he drank in the sight of your naked, sprawled form.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he rasped, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his barely leashed control.
You could hardly breathe, your heart pounding as his burning gaze devoured every inch of your exposed flesh. He knelt between your legs and you could only watch, entranced, as his rough hands skimmed slowly over your trembling thighs.
"Such a tempting little vixen, teasing her superior," he continued, his voice low and gravelly. "And now she's finally within reach."
He parted your legs further, his thumbs tracing torturous circles on the tender skin of your inner thighs. "I'm going to show you exactly what happens to girls who flaunt themselves."
You shivered as his breath ghosted over your damp folds. The anticipation was torture, the aching need between your legs throbbing with each passing moment. He continued to torture you, peppering kisses all across the taut skin of your inner thighs.
Then, just when you thought you couldn't stand it anymore, Fukuzawa's tongue dragged along your slit. You arched into him with a startled moan, his large hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place. His tongue delved deeper, slipping right between your soaked folds.
"Oh God," you whimpered, fisting your hands in his silver hair as pleasure coiled within you, winding tighter and tighter.
"That's right," he rumbled against your slick pussy lips. "I want to hear every sound you make."
His words were punctuated by the firm press of his tongue against your clit, sending a bolt of electricity arcing through you. Your head fell back against the sofa, a cry of pleasure escaping as he licked and sucked at the swollen bud.
Your breath came in ragged gasps, the pleasure so intense it was almost overwhelming. You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, every muscle coiling tight, desperate for release.
Then, just as you were about to cum, Fukuzawa pulled away. You whined in protest, the loss of his hot mouth on your dripping pussy nearly painful.
"Not yet," he said, his voice thick and hoarse with arousal. "I'm not finished with you yet."
With a strength that sent another surge of heat to your core, he flipped you onto your stomach, his hand pushing the small of your back to arch your ass into the air. Your breath caught as you felt him kneeling behind you, his thick length pressing teasingly against your folds.
"You have no idea how many nights l've imagined doing this to you," Fukuzawa growled, the head of his cock sliding slowly up and down your soaked pussy. "How many times l've had to stop myself from bending you over my desk and fucking you senseless."
You moaned and wriggled against him, desperate for him to fill you. "Please, Yukichi," you gasped, his name slipping past your lips without thinking.
At the sound of his name, he grinned widely, one hand coming up to swiftly slap your rear. "You will address me as 'sir'."
Another, harder, smack had you whimpering, the stinging sensation reverberating through your core. "Yes, Sir," you breathed, fingers baring a white-knuckled grip on the couch cushions.
He teased your folds with his cock, his hand kneading your reddened flesh. "Good girl," he murmured, watching the mushroom head of his cock disappear between your puffy lips.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of teasing, he gripped his thick length and guided it to your slick entrance. You moaned as the tip slid into your cunt, your walls stretching deliciously around his girth.
"God, you're tight," he groaned, slowly easing himself deeper.
You gasped as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours. The feeling of being so full, so stretched, was exquisite. You pushed back against him, wanting more.
With a deep groan, Fukuzawa began moving inside you, his thrusts slow and deep. He built a steady rhythm, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounded into you.
The sound of his skin slapping against yours was obscene, echoing in the quiet office. Pleasure coiled tighter within you, the tension ratcheting higher and higher with each thrust.
You could hear him grunting with exertion, the soft, guttural sounds of his pleasure driving you wild. The heat, the fullness, the overwhelming sensation of being fucked by the man who had consumed your every waking thought for months was almost too much to bear.
"Sir. Yukichi…fuck!" You gasped, your words dissolving into incoherence as his cock rubbed against that sweet spot deep inside you.
He grunted, his thrusts growing faster, more erratic. "Say my name again," he growled, his voice strained.
"Yukichi," you moaned, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.
At the sound of his name, he groaned, his cock throbbing within you. He pounded into you harder, his fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.
You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the wave of pleasure cresting inside you.
Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his thumb found your clit, circling and rubbing the swollen nub.
That was all it took. You came with a wail, your walls clamping down on his thick cock. Your vision whited out as waves of ecstasy crashed over you, rippling through your entire body.
As you trembled through the aftershocks, Fukuzawa continued to fuck you, his pace erratic, his breathing ragged. He groaned as his cock pulsed within you, spilling his hot release.
He paused for a moment, his weight holding you down before he slowly pulled his hips back, letting his softening cock slip out of your cunt. He hissed softly as he watched his seed slowly seep out of you, unable to resist the urge to use his fingers to push it back where it belonged.
The room was filled with the sound of your labored breathing, the air heavy with the scent of cum and sweat.
You were spent, your body languid and boneless in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. Fukuzawa gathered you tenderly into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he settled onto the sofa. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as he held you close.
For a long moment, you simply sat there together, catching your breath, your racing hearts gradually slowing. The silence between you was comfortable, weighted with the significance of what had just transpired.
Eventually, Fukuzawa shifted, pressing a kiss to your temple before murmuring in your ear, "Come home with me."
You pulled back slightly to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's wise?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice despite the seriousness of the question.
Fukuzawa's mouth quirked up at the corner, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and determination. "Probably not," he admitted, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare shoulder. "But I find myself throwing wisdom to the wind where you're concerned."
You couldn't help but smile at that, a rush of affection and exhilaration coursing through you. This was uncharted territory, a leap into the unknown. But the thought of not taking that leap, of letting this chance slip through your fingers, was unthinkable.
"Well then," you said, your decision made, "lead the way."
Fukuzawa's grin widened, his hand tightening on your hip. "With pleasure."
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helvegen-s · 11 hours
Text
Rage, rage | five
prologue | one | two | three | four | five
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Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: nothing that I can think of, just some fluff and nimue and azriel bantering
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Two days had passed since Nimue had been there, in that house, in that city.
She spent the day inside her room, in silence, talking to herself or to The Voice, when that entity deigned to honor her with its presence. She wondered how it was able to overcome the magical guards that surrounded the entire house, how it got there without alerting Rhysand or any of the others.
Food simply materialized on a small desk in the room assigned to her. Clothing too.
Sometimes she heard the others talking through the walls: she heard them gathered in the living room discussing strategies or plans; she heard Feyre crying at night, lamenting the fate of her sisters and the guilt that consumed her; she heard Cassian and the blonde female, Morrigan, talking in the living room about trivial matters.
What she didn't hear was that dull noise on the other side of the bond. She hadn't heard the voice or the steps of this Azriel fellow. She hadn't smelled his scent, of cedar and mist, the same scent she had smelled on the dead spies her father had sent to Prythian.
In her head, she had begun to imagine stories about each of them. Her own observant nature had told her that Cassian must be some kind of warrior, a commander or general in Rhysand's army; Morrigan, on the other hand, must be involved in politics, as her contributions in those small meetings she heard on the other side of the house were purely rational and theoretical observations, worthy of a brilliant mind; Azriel, she assumed, would be a spy, hence that distinctive aura surrounding him, and the fact that her father's dead spies were imbued in his scent and that of his pretty dagger.
She spends her days like this, locked in with her own thoughts.
Until the third day, when someone knocks on her door. Sitting in a small armchair, Nimue simply waits for whoever it is to decide to come in: it's not her house, she has no right to prohibit anyone from entering.
When the door opens, the petite figure of Feyre slips into the room, closing the door behind her. They both look at each other, in silence, Feyre standing by the door and Nimue sitting in front of her.
Nimue knows she has nothing to say, however, Feyre seems to be struggling to find the right words.
"You're not our prisoner, you know that, right?" Nimue nods, but says nothing more. "You're free to roam the house, go out, and do whatever you do in your free time. We're not your jailers."
"I know, this is what I do in my free time," and with her hand, she simply gestures around, towards nothing. Because that's what she does in her free time: nothing. It's either train or wait for something to happen, nothing more. "I've considered it would be best to stay here. My presence is not welcomed in this house, and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I know it's not a good time."
Nimue didn't want to tell her that she heard her cry at night, but nevertheless, Feyre's gaze was filled with understanding.
"It's not a good time, you're right, but you've helped us to make it not even worse. Don't judge them by how they treat you, they're a bit short-sighted. That's what happens when you've been living the same life for five hundred years," a small laugh escaped Feyre's lips, and Nimue couldn't help but smile herself. There was something about that woman that softened her heart, like Ferlan, the old cook who told her stories. "They'll accept you, sooner or later. Give them time."
Feyre directed her a smile so warm and friendly that for a moment, Nimue felt breathless.
How sad it was, to shrink in her place at such a small act of kindness, because in her life she had never known such a thing.
Nimue nodded, trying to return the woman's smile.
"Come with me."
She was surprised, but she obeyed and stood up. The brunette woman walked through the halls of the house, with Nimue trailing behind. She pointed out each room; to the right, a beautiful office; to the left, a smaller second living room; downstairs the kitchen and the living room where she had already been, and a little further down the hall, a huge library.
Nimue couldn't wipe the constant look of amazement off her face: yes, she had seen libraries, offices, kitchens, living rooms. But nowhere had she felt that warmth emanating from the walls, that sweet smell, a mixture of all the scents of those who inhabited it.
She felt Feyre's eyes on her, with an amused expression on her face.
"You have the same look as a child who has tried candies for the first time."
Nimue frowned, tearing her gaze away from the shelves full of books to look at the brunette, puzzled.
"What is a candies?"
Feyre placed a hand on her chest, letting out a small cry of indignation. With her hands outstretched, she loudly asked for some candy and they immediately materialized in her palms.
Nimue looked at them as if she were looking at a six-legged horse: balls of all colors, with shiny wrappers and all kinds of scents. She took one and opened it, imitating Feyre, who popped one into her mouth without hesitation.
When the princess put it in her mouth, she could swear she had never tasted anything so delicious in her life. Yes, the food at her Palace was good, but that... That was a whole new world.
As she savored it and let it roll around in her mouth, she reached out her hands into the air.
"More," she said aloud. Feyre let out a genuine laugh that, once again, softened her heart. "More, please. I've never tasted anything so delicious in my life, I want more."
Candies began to sprout from the palms of her own hands, overflowing and falling to the ground. Before she knew it, a small pile of candies and many more things had formed at her feet: there were lollipops, spiral-shaped candies, candy canes. There were even small buns appearing at her feet and in her hands.
Feyre couldn't stop laughing. The innocence and naturalness of the princess had fallen upon her like sunlight, after being immersed in her own shadows for the past few days.
"The house really likes you, it's not willing to please everyone like this."
"I know," said Nimue, "sometimes I feel like it's trying to talk to me. It's such ancient magic, it must be a very special spirit."
A last and enormous bun appeared in her hands, as if the house itself were appreciating Nimue's acknowledgment.
She looked up at Feyre, with a silly smile she couldn't wipe off her face. It even hurt her face, as she couldn't remember if she had ever smiled so much in her life.
"Come, let's go outside."
Feyre took her hand, and while Nimue took one last bite of the bun, they left behind that small pile of sweets. She glanced back, and in a low voice, she thanked the house again.
Before she knew it, Feyre had pushed her out into the same courtyard where they had landed days ago, just after escaping from Hybern.
The sun was high in the sky, and Nimue had to squint to see anything. She found herself in the same situation as three days ago, completely overwhelmed by the light, the sounds, the smells, the vastness of the sky above her.
She took in as much air as her lungs would allow, and allowed herself to enjoy it all: the blue sky, the cool breeze coming from the mountains, the smell of the sea and salt that reminded her so much of home, when the sea breeze would sneak through her windows.
Twenty years locked away. And now, she felt that not even a whole lifetime would be enough to see it all, to feel it all.
She still held Feyre's hand, who couldn't stop watching her by her side.
"I believe you. I see in you a scared child who has managed to escape the clutches of an evil man," she said, carefully and in a low voice. Nimue felt a breath of fresh air, which tangled in her hair and danced around her face. "I choose to trust you because I see goodness and light in you, fighting to do something good."
Nimue brought a hand to her face: she found that, once again, she was crying.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, for your trust. I understand what it's like to be in your place, I would also be suspicious of me. But I will prove to you that I can be useful to win this war."
Feyre nodded and smiled.
"I hope you'll be useful to us for much more than just the war."
And then Nimue felt it.
After three days of dead silence, something in her chest began to vibrate again.
She looked up at the sky to see two winged shadows approaching them. Instinctively, she covered Feyre with her body, prepared for anything.
Azriel and Cassian landed carefully on the courtyard, under Nimue's watchful gaze. Those wings were something impressive.
"What are you doing here alone with her, Feyre?" Azriel asked. He walked threateningly towards the two females, and Nimue felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, like a cat ready to attack. "It's not safe, she should be under surveillance."
"Azriel-"
"I'm right here, don't talk about me like a dog," Nimue interrupted, taking a step forward. Azriel was tall, yes, but so was she. Face to face, she didn't feel the least bit intimidated by him, and she even realized how surprised the male was by the indifference she felt towards his intimidation. Nimue smiled. "That thing of spreading your wings like a bird and seeming bigger might work with others, not with me."
She didn't know what prompted her to act like that with the winged male. Perhaps it was his anger, which through the bond infected her with that anger and rage that left her seeing red.
Azriel growled.
"Give me one reason to trust you. Then, I'll let you roam freely around my house and my city."
"I saved your life. Shall I remind you?" Nimue takes another step forward, getting so close to him that she can see the tiny specks of dark brown in his amber eyes. "If I hadn't taken you out of there, who knows what my father would have done to you. I also remind you that it was me who pulled the arrow out of your chest without poisoning you."
"But something tells me you're doing that to win our favor and trust. Who says you're not a spy for your father? Only a fool would trust you."
"Hey, I trust her," Feyre says. She and Cassian look at each other, not knowing what to do.
They don't fully understand the situation either. Azriel had always been cautious and foresighted, slow to trust people and always suspicious of others' intentions. However, there was something about Nimue... They couldn't quite put their finger on it, but it was a kind of blind trust.
Azriel ignores Feyre and continues accusing and accusing.
"What I really can't wrap my head around is how we've never known anything about you. My spies have been in the Court of the King of Hybern for years and I've never heard a whisper about a princess. If you're so powerful and important, explain to me how not a single person on the other side of the sea knows of your existence."
"Maybe you're not as good at your job as you claim to be."
Azriel feels like he's about to explode, now more than ever.
He has to fight against all his impulses not to kill her on the spot. But at the same time, there's something in him that dies just imagining her bleeding.
His own mind contradicts him, and he feels like he's going to split in two. So before any of that happens, he lets out one last growl and leaves, flapping his wings and causing a gust of wind that tousles Nimue's hair.
There they stand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nimue, watching Azriel enter the house.
They look at each other, not knowing what to say, and the princess feels her heart racing.
It was so complicated, dealing with all those pure and unfiltered emotions that came to her from the other side of the bond...
Cassian snorts and then smiles at the two females.
"Would you like some tea?"
Nimue furrows her brows and looks at Feyre, then at Cassian.
"What is a tea?”
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Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @annblvd @annamariereads16
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mbruben-stein · 1 day
Note
OMG ITS ME AGAIN
Sorry I forgot it I said it or not but I requested a reaction/headcanon of Tokyo revengers boys ! 🫶
(It was their reaction to their high achiever nd burnt out s/o coping w their stress by clinging to them!)
Tokyo revengers boys with high active s/o, and when s/o gets burnt out their s/o's cupping method is clinging to them.
Mikey:
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Mikey, being the charismatic and caring leader that he is, always supports his high-energy significant other in any way he can. He loves seeing them happy and full of life, but he also understands that everyone needs a break sometimes. So, when his s/o inevitably gets burnt out from all their activities and responsibilities, Mikey is there to help them recharge.
When his s/o reaches their limit and starts feeling overwhelmed, their go-to method of coping is to cling to Mikey. They find comfort and solace in his presence, feeling safe and secure in his arms. Mikey, being the understanding and loving partner that he is, welcomes them with open arms. He holds them close, providing a sense of warmth and reassurance that everything will be okay.
Mikey knows that sometimes all his s/o needs is a moment of peace and quiet, away from the chaos of their busy lives. So he makes sure to create a calming atmosphere for them, whether it's by simply sitting together in silence or watching their favorite movie. He listens attentively to their thoughts and feelings, offering words of encouragement and support.
As they cling to each other, Mikey's s/o feels a sense of relief and relaxation wash over them. They feel recharged and ready to face the world once again, knowing that they have Mikey by their side. With his unwavering love and support, they know that they can overcome any obstacle together. And in those moments of vulnerability, they find strength in each other's embrace.
Daken:
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Draken is initially taken aback by his s/o's high energy levels, but he soon finds himself drawn to their vibrant personality. He admires their passion and drive, and he enjoys the excitement they bring into his life. However, he also notices when they start to burn out from pushing themselves too hard.
When his s/o reaches their breaking point and starts to feel overwhelmed, Draken is quick to notice the signs. He can see the exhaustion in their eyes and the way they start to withdraw from their usual activities. Instead of pushing them to keep going, he understands the importance of giving them space to rest and recharge.
As his s/o clings to him for comfort during these moments of burnout, Draken's protective instincts kick in. He wraps his arms around them, providing a sense of safety and security. He may not be the most affectionate person, but in times like these, he shows his love through actions rather than words.
Draken makes sure his s/o knows they can rely on him for support, both physically and emotionally. He may not always know the right thing to say, but his presence alone is enough to bring a sense of calm to his s/o. He stays by their side, offering a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear whenever they need it.
In these moments of vulnerability, Draken proves that he is not just a tough and intimidating figure. He shows his s/o that he is capable of being gentle and caring, willing to do whatever it takes to help them through their struggles. And as his s/o clings to him for comfort, he holds them close, silently promising to always be there for them no matter what.
Takemichi:
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Takemichi is always seen as the weak crybaby hero, but when it comes to his significant other, he becomes a pillar of strength. His high energy partner always keeps him on his toes, pushing him to be more confident and determined. But when they inevitably hit a wall and burn out, it's Takemichi's turn to take care of them.
When his s/o is feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, their usual cupping method is to cling to Takemichi. They find solace in his presence, feeling comforted and protected by his unwavering support. Takemichi, despite his own insecurities and low self-esteem, becomes a source of stability for his partner during their vulnerable moments.
He holds them close, offering a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear for their worries. Takemichi may not have all the answers, but his presence alone is enough to make his s/o feel safe and loved. He may not be the strongest or most confident person, but his empathy and kindness shine through when his partner needs it most.
In those moments of vulnerability, Takemichi proves that he is not just a crybaby hero, but a compassionate and caring partner who will always be there to support his s/o through thick and thin.
Mitsuya:
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Mitsuya is a calm and level-headed person, but when it comes to his high-energy significant other, he finds himself constantly on his toes. His partner's enthusiasm and zest for life always keep him on his toes, but he wouldn't have it any other way. However, there are times when his s/o's high energy can lead to burnout, leaving them feeling drained and exhausted.
When his s/o reaches this point, Mitsuya is always there to support them. He notices the signs of burnout before they even realize it themselves. As soon as he sees his partner struggling, he gently encourages them to take a break and relax. Mitsuya knows just how important it is to take care of oneself, and he wants nothing more than to see his s/o happy and healthy.
As his s/o clings to him for comfort and support, Mitsuya wraps his arms around them in a warm and reassuring embrace. He holds them close, offering a sense of security and calmness. Mitsuya knows that sometimes all his partner needs is a shoulder to lean on, and he is more than happy to be that support for them.
Together, they find solace in each other's presence, finding comfort in the silence and the warmth of their embrace. Mitsuya's calm and loving nature is exactly what his s/o needs in moments of exhaustion and burnout. And with him by their side, they know that they can overcome any obstacle that comes their way.
Kazutora:
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Kazutora may seem like a rough and tough guy on the outside, but when it comes to his significant other, he's surprisingly gentle and caring. His s/o is a high-energy individual, always on the go and rarely taking a break. However, there are times when even the most energetic person can get burnt out. When this happens to his s/o, their preferred method of comfort is to cling to Kazutora.
At first, Kazutora may be a bit taken aback by the sudden need for physical closeness, but he quickly adjusts and wraps his arms around his s/o, providing a strong and comforting presence. He may not be the best at expressing his feelings verbally, but his actions speak volumes as he holds his s/o close, offering silent support and understanding.
As his s/o relaxes into his embrace, Kazutora's own tension begins to melt away. He finds solace in being able to provide comfort to his loved one, knowing that he is a source of strength for them in their time of need. The quiet moments spent together in each other's arms help to recharge both of their spirits, strengthening their bond and deepening their connection.
Through this simple act of clinging to him, Kazutora and his s/o find a sense of peace and reassurance in each other's presence. It is in these moments of vulnerability and intimacy that their love for one another shines brightest, proving that even the toughest of individuals can have a soft and caring heart.
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