#i just wish i could enjoy life like others do

[risuola]

F. READER X SUKUNA RYOMEN // After Sukuna finally got a human body, his power was taken away and sealed within you.

cw: Sukuna is separated from Yuji and has his own body (not the heian form tho!), smut, mentions of hurt and violence, some blood and execution mentioned, reader discretion is advised — 7,3k words

a/n: ok so i've been meaning to finish this wip for so long and as i opened the file i realized i don't like the way it's written and i rewrote all 11 pages in word and now it's hopefully finished so... enjoy the usual — hurt, comfort, angst-fluff dynamics and emotional constipation ♡

“What do you want, curse?”

A long, deep sigh escaped your lungs as you reached for a towel to dry your body off. As you stepped out of a shower, last thing you expected to see was the King of Curses himself leaning nonchalantly against the tiled wall of your bathroom, eyeing you with the wicked smile on his face. How on brand. You didn’t expect him but saying that his sudden presence surprised you would be an overstatement. You learned to expect him anytime.

“Don’t ask silly questions,” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes that in the sharp lights of your ceiling lamp glistened in blood-red. All four of them were fixed on your damp frame, on your exhausted body. It wasn’t the best day to mess with him. Not that any other day was better to deal with the most cursed curse of all curses that ever existed — this one though was particularly inconvenient.

It wasn’t longer than maybe an hour since you got home, returning from a mission that Gojo had given you, entrusting your power to rid the world of a group of curses. They were exceptionally violent, first to special grade with no doubt and you did, in fact, manage to exorcise them all, but not without your body getting painfully battered.

“You know I cannot grant your wish, don’t you? I wouldn’t give you your powers even if the world was on fire and you were the last available option to save it.”

He scoffed, again, and smirked like the pure evil that he is. You approached slowly, reaching for the robe hanging beside him, hopeful to get this conversation over sooner rather than later, but before your fingers even had a chance of grasping the soft, silky fabric of the gown, Sukuna snatched your wrist. His long, calloused fingers wrapped tightly around your forearm and he twisted it, tugging and pulling, until your back hit the wall.

Trapped between the cold tiles and his muscular frame, you winced at the sudden wave of pain that struck your body. Your reaction time lacked as in matter of split seconds both of your wrists were pinned above your head, bound by only one of his large hands and you were helpless. So devastatingly, utterly helpless against the sheer force in front of you. Your bones were fragile as twigs in his iron grip, so easy to bend and break under the pressure of the power he held and you knew it from practice that he could and he would break them if he wished to do so.

“That little mouth of yours is gonna get you in big trouble one day,” he said, a sound as low as a purr, and a grin spread across his face, as he lowered his head enough to meet your eyes. His gaze, tinged with crimson and madness, pierced your soul and if you didn’t know better, you’d say your prayers right now because the face in front of you was a face of slow and cruel death.

“I bet I can manage the trouble that is you. I appreciate the care,” you were calm, sounded calm, despite the rushing rumble of your heart against the ribcage in your chest. You were nonchalant, ignorant even, most likely very naïve and dumb, but you knew that what would be a certain demise to anyone else, for you it just wasn’t.

Born into a family of ordinary people, you were different. Gifted with the sight that allowed you to notice what was invisible to the eyes of others — the spirits. Curses. The ability formed your life, led you onto a path which eventually crossed with the man you only heard legends about. Satoru Gojo had taken you under his wing, showed you the world of jujutsu and allowed you to be yourself when everyone else wanted you to just act normal. But you were a special one. You were gifted, no, you were heavily and deeply tainted with something you couldn’t understand. Something even he couldn’t understand. There was no rank for you. No label that could be tied to your name. You were just different, with the exceptional physical fitness and peculiar, precise control over the cursed energy, you easily passed all of the tests and challenges. But your powers are dark. They are heavy, suffocating, they made other people fear you despite the kindness that showed through your warm personality.  

“I hate it when you talk down to me,” Sukuna growled. His low voice died down when he slowly pressed his lips to yours, greedily taking your breath away as his hand swiftly removed the towel from your body. A shiver ran down your spine, the sudden contact with the cold ceramics behind you made you jolt forward, involuntarily pressing your body against the wall of muscle. Ryomen’s clothed torso provided more comfort than the bone-chilling tiles. You felt him smirk against your mouth.

When Sukuna separated from Itadori’s body, materializing in his own form and threatening the entire universe with his existence and unsatiable thirst for blood and destruction, Satoru, along with some other people that you didn’t know, acted immediately. It was a sacrifice to pick you for the new vessel, it was a decision made in a rush and you’d have to think twice before agreeing to it again if you ever had a chance. Your technique allowed you to store someone else’s cursed energy so it was an easy choice for everyone involved.

The King of Curses got stripped of most of his power when he was barely awakened in his own body, and said power was then transferred to yours. Sealed inside your fragile human frame, nearly destroying you from inside out with the initial shock wave. Since that day you had to learn and accept to live with constant pain, the never-ending suffering, because locking away Sukuna’s evil was much more important than your well-being.

You were told that it’s different than what Itadori was to the king. The curse created a space for itself inside Yuji’s soul, keeping his own powers contained to only himself and you — you had his cursed energy constantly, unstoppably racing through your body, poisoning your veins with every pump of your heart and it hurt. It burned like a hellfire was spreading throughout your circulatory system and since that day, your life had become a curse itself. Your sleep has gotten worse, you were tired and for the first few weeks you were barely able to move. It felt like the cells were tearing themselves apart inside you, like everything was in a state of never-ending volcanic eruption. It was agonizing, torturous. You felt like dying. Every day. Luckily, Ieiri was able to develop a medicine that taken every day, calmed everything down enough to make it bearable.  

You got used to it, as the year passed by, but what you also had to get used to, was the owner. Ryomen Sukuna visited you so often that he partially lived in your apartment, patiently torturing you with his presence until you gave him what he was rightfully entitled to. He didn’t even consider covering a part of your rent, asshole. He couldn’t kill you — your death would take all of his powers down to your grave with you — but it didn’t stop him from trying his luck with everything that wasn’t enough to take your life.

You remember the first attempts, the first showcases of his annoyance. It was a shame, it was pathetic to Sukuna and he felt humiliated to get caught in such a simple trick, to allow himself to not have his guard up from the very first breath he took once he separated from the brat. All of that pent up anger, he threw on you and the many trials of violence and brutality had taught him that your tolerance for pain was high. And you fought back. Over time, and after many weeks you spent inside the hospital bed underneath the precise care of Shoko, Sukuna had realized that no amount of beating and torture will force you into obedience — as annoying as the realization was — so he changed his ways and switched to haunting you. Taunting you with his constant presence. Able to enter your apartment at any given moment, the curse made sure you were never too comfortable in your own home. You grew to live with that too.

“Hurts?” Sukuna grinned, watching the wince that twisted your otherwise attractive features the very moment his fingers dug into your side. With sadistic pleasure he studied the way your brows creased and your eyes fell shut. The rumble of your heart was evident in the silence of the bathroom and even more evident were the very palpable fractures of your ribs underneath his palms. “Want me to stop?” He mused, griping the injury tighter and the cruel wave of pain almost knocked the air out of your lungs.

“You are charming as always, curse,” you scoffed, forcing some oxygen into your system and cussing yourself internally for showing the pain, for giving him the clearest indication of your weakened state. For giving him something to use against you. “It hurts, yes. I’ve had a rough day, I’d like to rest.”

“Then I will take you to bed,” he let go of both your hands and ribs, scooping you up and carrying you towards the bedroom. Your bare body seemed tiny against the tall, muscular built of him. Too fragile to be so stubborn and blame it on said fragility, but Sukuna out of habit put you down onto the plush sheets with gentleness so uncharacteristic of him.

“You know I can’t give you what you want,” you looked at him, your gaze portraying the tiniest sliver of hope that finally he’ll understand and give up, but giving up wasn’t a phrase present in king’s vocabulary. He’d rather die than let go and both of you knew it. “I’m sure you can tell I’m exhausted, but if you make me, I will fight.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, woman,” he grinned, allowing his two pairs of eyes to run down your naked body, silently admiring the petite frame that was capable of holding all of his strength. “I wouldn’t force you to fight when you’re already so beaten. What do you think I am, a monster?”

“Not a monster. You’re a curse, which is worse.” A shrug of your shoulders sent a jolt of pain throughout your body and it took everything from you to not wince in front of him again. You reached for a t-shirt you use to sleep in — a garment stolen from Itadori, big enough to almost be a dress, comfortable cotton that wrapped you with softness and warmth. Sukuna knows your body. He’s seen it naked, touched and tasted it many times and the piercing gaze of all four of his eyes on your skin was something you grew to accept, but you wanted to get dressed anyway. Sukuna was never a gentle lover and your broken ribcage wouldn’t take his roughness too well.

"It sounds so lovely in your mouth," he chuckled, taking the blouse from your hands and tossing it carelessly away. "Who said you can dress up?"

"Who said you can give me orders?"

"Am I not the king?"

"Of curses, yes. I'm not a curse, your jurisdiction does not apply to me."

“Gods, you need to shut up.”

There was only one thing Sukuna grew to enjoy a sliver bit more than torturing you and that was having sex — though he dismayed the thought of such primal pleasures taking over his urges. It felt foreign at first, as if his own body tried to betray him by showing interest in a simple, unworthy human just as you, but he was able to reason it within his own, conflicted mind. Intimacy created a leak. A leak of his own power seeping through you, an unknown weakening of your defenses and Sukuna was able to, quite literally, fuck his powers out of you, absorb it back into his own form, feel more like himself for just a little moment.

Other thing is — and he hated it the most — that he genuinely enjoyed the time in bed with you. It was pleasurable, too pleasurable almost and Ryomen actively dismissed the idea of you stripping him off his cold judgement, the clarity of his thoughts, but he loved it also. Every soft whimper and whisper of his name that ever slipped through your lips made his ego grow, made him want more and although he hated the seal, he admired the shell you wore around your soul and if there was ever anyone he wished to be intimate with, it was you. You held his power in the body he was able to touch, to taste, to have, and over time Sukuna grew to respect it, in his own twisted way. Over hundreds of years he’s been around, he had seen people brave — or stupid — enough to try and contain his power, to ingest one of the cursed objects his soul was fragmented into and then, he watched them die in pain and suffering just from a small fraction of it. You were able to hold it, agony or not.

You, on the other hand, had no clue what exactly was causing the seal to leak, you couldn’t tell why was it happening when he was inside you and not when he was trying to beat the life out of you. Why breaking your bones never let a drop of his energy to slip from under your control and the intimacy made you lose it just like that? You couldn’t tell, but just the fact that Sukuna’s able to regain any amount of his legacy through intercourse should be enough of a reason to never, ever let him touch you, but oh well. Elders didn’t like you anyway and the cursed energy released was so insignificant it wouldn’t really cause much trouble — that’s at least how you reasoned with yourself. Sometimes you wondered if the small boost was even worth all the trouble for the king, but it wasn’t hard to notice he was clearly enjoying just being close to you.

“Oh, do I?” You questioned him; dared, and he took you on a challenge, pressing his lips to yours. You whimpered and pressed your open palms to his clothed chest when he climbed on top of you, hovering above your much smaller frame and allowing his shadow and evil aura to swallow you and you flinched. Your senses, however trained, were always on high alert when he was so close. It was reflexive, a first response that screamed, begged, to get away from him, to run and don’t look back but you had to learn pushing it down. It’s been only few weeks since you managed to fix and patch up the hole his fist once made in one of your walls and putting up a fight right now would certainly damage your apartment yet again. Not to speak about yourself.

“You never know when to shut up,” he purred against your lips and moved, following the edges of your jawline and down your neck, spreading wet bites and marks along your delicate skin there.

“Sukuna, please, not today,” you whimpered, pleading and gasping just slightly, feeling his long, calloused fingers already finding their place between your thighs, teasing the awaiting bud of joy and pleasure that, unlike you, was very excited for the events unraveling.

“Why not?” He asked, letting go the sensitive skin right above your pulse and admiring the reddish, swollen patch he left there. “You’re so wet, I cannot ignore it.” You could feel his grin against your shoulder, hear it in the mocking yet proud tone of his voice because he was proud of himself. He knew how to push your buttons, which ones to push first and how to navigate his lips and fingers across your curves and hollows to make the most out of it because truth is, ever since he got his own human-like body, he was able to appreciate physical pleasures that before that, he couldn’t care less about. “Aren’t you ashamed? A sorcerer, spreading your legs for the king of curses? Moaning my name instead of spells, digging your nails into my skin instead of knives?”

“Aren’t you ashamed? The King of Curses himself, getting so hard and worked up for a simple human?” You replied with a mock underlying in your tone and he laughed.

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”

“You did,” you confirmed, nodding and pulling his blouse up, forcing him to undress and he complied. His covered in black markings skin, stretched over a strong musculature never failed to make you gasp in awe. Sukuna is an attractive man, slightly reminiscing you of Itadori due to him being the last of his hosts, but also completely different. The aura is different, the height and body shape. There’s nothing of Yuji’s kindhearted, warm nature — Ryomen is a menace. His eyes are narrowed, knowing, proud. He’s arrogant, he’s full of himself, he’s spiteful and uncaring and sometimes you wondered how he managed to coexist with the society for a year now, with his temper so cold and obnoxious.

“So behave,” he smirked, pushing your knees apart and slipping two of his thick fingers inside you. He worked them easily through the slick, warm entrance and stretched you with slow movements. A brief attempt of foreplay, careless towards the discomfort his hands managed to cause you, but he loved it — he loved to feel how wet you could get for him, he loved to see you all worked up, blushed and flushed, squirming underneath his very touch. “Behave or it’ll hurt more than necessary.”

“It’s going to hurt anyway, there’s no way around it,” you breathed out, your tone quite blank as you tried to brace yourself to feel every broken bone in your ribcage. Truth is that breathing was causing you problems and you were actively pushing the petrifying thought of rough sex deep down your thoughts. “I’m not good at behaving.”

“Hard to disagree,” the curse chuckled, running the tip of his tongue along the length of your neck and it took him a second to replace his soaked-up digits with his rock-hard member. Low, animalistic and gravelly purr escaped his throat, as his length got into the tight embrace of muscles inside you. A velvety warmth mixed with sharp, stinging feeling of your nails digging into the skin of his back made his mind go blank for a moment. You run your fingers across his body, adding new marks to the constellation of his own and he took in the way your breath hitched in your chest, the soft thud of your heart that he felt underneath his lips as he kissed your neck, nipping and sucking spots onto the otherwise clean surface. Hot waves of euphoria rushed through him, adrenaline pumped inside his veins and were it not for your injuries, he would be pounding into you relentlessly by now, pushing you above and beyond your limits, mercilessly taking your breath away time after time, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and basking in the exhilarating feeling of you taking him in. If not for the bones that he so clearly can feel beneath his fingertips, the fractures sharp against your skin over your ribcage, he would be relentlessly rushing towards orgasm and ecstasy. This time, he refrained. This time, he decided to be curious, to see how the softness you always tell him about tastes on his own tongue.

Sukuna’s movements were slow, odd but deep and heavy. Every nerve, every sensitive spot in your entire body was hit and abused again and again and again. His lips kept gluing themselves to your mouth, your neck, shoulders. He was kissing your chest, nipping at your skin, making you heave, and moan, and whimper. He was taking you all in, observing, listening, savoring and it didn’t take long for the heat to pool below your stomach. A coil of tight pleasure, a knot begging to snap open and undo itself. The man was all over you, his hips worked in a rhythmical melody that’s got you lose your focus, your train of thoughts. It cleared your mind — a blank space that now was filled only with him and the intense, addicting way his hips moved.

You trembled.

Your thighs were shaking, your breath cut short.

You’ve had your fair share of intercourses with the King of Curses — each of them pleasurable in its own way. He has his ways of exhausting you, of pushing your limits, overstimulating you. He experimented, dominated and forced you into submission one way or another. Sukuna is no stranger to pain and violence and throughout the year you’ve got to know all colors of his palette but nothing, not once, resembled the tenderness he showed you this time.

“Suku–ahh—” you panted, cried out, gripping his biceps tightly.

“That’s right, let it out,” he grinned, demanded and moved his hips with more precision, just a little more force to hit that one spot he knew does it for you and it stole a breath from you. Your back arched, despite the broken bones, your head went blank as the groundbreaking wave of pleasure washed over you. The tight ring of muscles kept squeezing and contracting and Sukuna groaned along with you. He was leaking, his balls heavy and aching for release that he forcefully postponed, greedy to take more from you before he gives you any of his.

He pulled out, almost completely — a false promise of a breather — and then pushed back, fully, completely. His body moves more frantically, more rushed and yet, the compassion rushed in his veins, stripping the thrusts off their usual violence.

Odd. Addicting.

The first bliss was soon followed by two more and your third climax was his first. He became sloppier, hurried as he chased the sweet, sweet release and you tangled your fingers into his soft, blush-colored hair pulling him in and kissing his breath away. You couldn’t focus and nether could he. Nothing but the immense pleasure of the act, nothing before and nothing after, just here and now. Your body and his, in your apartment, in your bed. And when he came, he drew blood from your lower lip, catching it between his sharp fangs.

You let out a shaky breath, way more tired than before and yet, you smiled softly when Sukuna collapsed onto the bed beside you — the last bits of reason that made him shift his body to the side so that he wouldn’t put his weight on top of your fragile frame. He had this infuriating and oddly attractive smirk plastered onto his face and you knew he’s listening — to your calming breath and the harsh thuds of your heartbeat rumbling inside your chest.

Sukuna felt content. Utterly and completely satisfied and what’s got him surprised, he also felt his cells swell with power. The amount that leaked, due to unknown reasons, was incomparable to what he’s ever been able to absorb before. He couldn’t tell if it was your exhaustion, the wounds and damage your body was covered with or just the way he took you this time, but he knew for a fact that there was more. He also noticed that this time, unlike any other, he was completely abandoning the idea of cursed energy. It’s as if it entered his body on its own, without him actively taking it in, all while he was completely lost in the moments of pleasure, lost in you.

A grin on his face only got bigger, the feeling of might overwhelming him for a moment. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to destroy and kill. To feel like his old, superior self, to force his way through other people’s suffering. It felt ecstatic, to have a part of himself back, to feel the strength surging through him and—

—that’s until he looked at you again and he realized there was a scent of blood in the air. A metallic hint of something that was very wrong with you, something that he never thought he would miss since he loved to be surrounded by blood. But you were quiet about it. Breathing fast, with a hand pressed to your side and your eyebrows furrowed — a clear giveaway of the pain that slowly returned to you once the euphoric aftershocks wore off.

“You’re bleeding, huh?” He more so stated than asked, gathering himself up and gently, carefully slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and the other around your back. Once he lifted your worn off body, not without a quiet wince slipping from your mouth, the red, vibrant stain revealed itself from where you were resting. “That wound was there before, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was,” you replied, weakly, leaning the side of your head towards his flexing bicep and clenching your fingers around your fractured mid-section.

The shower, hot and steamy, wasn’t the most pleasant of all, but it did wonders to wash away the sticky residues from your thighs and the blood and sweat that mixed atop of your skin. Sukuna’s large hand pressed itself onto the wound, forcing it to stop bleeding — trying, at least.

“Why didn’t you heal it?”

“I didn’t have enough power to do so. I just barely managed to close it, and—” You trailed off, feeling dizzy. It was getting to you, ridding you of basic abilities to communicate and the king caught up immediately.

Water got turned off and he dried you quickly, superficially. You felt the towel being run over your limbs and pressed around your torso where the most damage was. Then he wrapped a bandage around you, tight and precise, hopeful to get the bleeding in control before he took you back under the sheets — with clean underwear on and after he flash-changed the sheets into clean ones.

Your battery was so low, you felt like you’re gonna pass out any moment.

“It was amazing,” you told him, once his weight dented the mattress and his body heat reached your cold skin. Usually, you wouldn’t feed into his ego, it was already way too big and swollen, but you figured he deserved to hear a praise after he restrained himself from fucking you to death.

“Rest,” he ordered, harsh and dry but he couldn’t hide the little smirk that tugged on the corner of his mouth. He acted like he didn’t care of what you just said, but he did, and he’ll remember it.

With hopes that sleep will solve your health issues, Sukuna watched as you drifted away and with deep dismay he noticed that the white bandages that hug your torso were slowly and steadily turning red. Your face was in a constant frown, you were visibly in pain and getting feverish, if he wasn’t mistaken, and he cursed his own self for caring about such things. You were a strong woman — despite all of his insults and cruel words he had told you during the past year — and he had never, not once, saw you in such a pathetic, vulnerable state but then, maybe if he stayed with you more often instead of leaving the moment he was done fucking his powers out of you, he would know better. Even so, you never complained and Sukuna isn’t stupid, he knows how much trouble his cursed energy causes you, how much pain and everyday agony you have to push through and yet, he never heard you whine about it.

King’s hands moved on their own, and when they touched your cold body, the healing process began. He watched the dark bruise around your ribcage fade into nothing and observed how the fractured bones underneath the skin moved and shifted into their original places. The blood stopped soaking the bandages and once rid of them, Ryomen watched how your skin knitted back together, leaving nothing but a pale, pinkish scar. Every last bit of his power he put into the reverse cursed technique to repair as much damage as he could. Then, with his arm around your waist, he fell asleep next to you.

* * *

Waking up to a man in your bed wasn’t exactly something you’re used to — even if said man is Ryomen Sukuna who’s an often guest between your sheets. He never stays because he never cares enough to stay, not to mention staying in a tight embrace. You found yourself snuggled close to his side, your head resting on his muscular chest while his arm was wrapped around you, making sure you’re not going anywhere. His hand was resting exactly where the pain should be and with shock you realized there’s nothing — no hurt, no bandages that you have a dull memory of being wrapped in.

You didn’t heal yourself. You were too tired.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sukuna’s voice stopped you, when you made an attempt to pull yourself away from him. He sounded lower than usual, raspier and unsettlingly not evil.

“Why are you still here?” You asked, running your hand over the bumps of muscles on his abdomen. “I’m so confused. I’m not togging to complaint though.”

“You’d try, silly woman,” he grunted, amused and squeezed your side more securely. “What the hell did you do to me, huh?”

“I don’t know, but I appreciate the healing,” you teased.

“Don’t ever talk about it.”

Laughing, you forced a groan of annoyance out of him — the kind of groan that let you know you're treading on thin ice and one thoughtless move could break it, one word not thought through enough could make you fall into the pit of cold and ice.

"What, you want me to forget that the King of Curses used his hard-earned power to heal a mere sorcerer? Not a chance."

"If that mere sorcerer bleeds to death, my power will be gone as well. I had a reason for it."

"If you say so, Sukuna," still amused, you pulled away from his embrace and got up from the bed, nearly dodging a slap he aimed at your ass.

That morning, you had breakfast with the King of Curses, bringing this wonderful adventure with him to an unexpected end. Afterwards, he kissed your breath away and left you confused as ever.

Several weeks had passed until Ryomen once again entered your field of view. Unfortunate.

You had a day off, enjoying it in a café with your friends, seeping carelessly on a latte with the almond milk and a dash of honey. It was a beautiful day, warm too, and you thought nothing would mess this up but life proved you wrong when the curse stormed in, steaming with rage and madness and — call it intuition — it was a dead giveaway of why he showed up.

“Such a great day, huhhh–“ you wailed quietly, lifting your cup from the table before his fist broke the wood in half. It wasn’t hard to notice how absolutely furious he was and it made you both curious and alarmed.

“Give. Me. Something.” The man growled lowly, frustrated and outraged and you couldn’t recall any time you ever saw him that infuriated.

“I can’t, you kno–“ you tried to tell him, but before you even got the full sentence out, he already had his fingers wrapped around your neck. A sharp sound of glass shattering accompanied the quiet yelp you let out as he yanked you up and slammed your back onto the nearest wall. You felt your feet losing their contact with the ground.

“Give me something.” He repeated, his voice so low and menacing that it sent shivers down your spine. It felt as if you were speaking with death. He was so close, you felt his uneven breath on your face, the crimson of his eyes seemed to glow. “Give me something or I’ll fuck you right here and now to get it.”

The rage in his eyes, the absolute storm of bloodlust, you wondered what has gotten him so worked up. King of Curses had a short temper, yes. He was often annoyed, angry, of course, but such fury wasn’t typical to his character and you knew that if you refuse right now, he will surely go through with the threat he made and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You’ll just get hurt.

“Put me down,” you tried, speaking calmly and wrapping your fingers around his forearm, hoping to give him a hint before your windpipe was fully crushed. Your heart was racing inside your chest, you heard the pulse in your ears, felt it in your head and neck. Fear wasn’t the most familiar feeling for you — you’ve grown accustomed to Sukuna’s violence, his tantrums and threats, his forceful ways of getting what he wanted and you also got to know him enough to know this kind of rage wasn’t caused by someone stepping on his toe or taking the last package of his favorite snack. This wasn’t caused by someone looking at him from the wrong angle. This was pure. Primal. “What happened?”

“Give me my power,” he said again, terrifyingly calm and he lowered you down so that your feet reached the floor again, but instead of letting go of your throat, he squeezed it even tighter, pressing his entire body against you. “I’m asking for the last time.”

Everyone present in the café — those who didn’t turn tail the second Sukuna raged inside — were too stunned to react, too petrified to intervene and you couldn’t blame them. The King of Curses, even stripped of most of his cursed energy, was still a threat not to be ignored. Still a menace, a mischievous demonic creature feared by curses, sorcerers and now also regular people that had a misfortune to meet him. The very sound of his name made all of them tremble in terror. You didn’t expect anyone to help you.

“I can’t breathe,” you struggled the words out, whispering on top of the very limited air that flew barely between your upper and lower parts of the respiratory systems. Sukuna growled but loosened the death grip he had on your neck, allowing the oxygen once again into your lungs. Then, you made a mistake. Then, you decided to trust him. “I hope you remember that I will be executed for this. Make it worth it.”

* * *

Later that day, deep into the night you woke up to a sudden slam of the doors. The very familiar, dark aura filled in your otherwise calm apartment and it took no effort to realize who just invaded your space. There were only two people brave enough to enter your home so recklessly and it wasn’t hard to tell them apart.

“Stay in bed,” Sukuna said once you pulled yourself up from the pillows and the mattress and he headed straight into your bathroom. “I need to wash up.”

You exhaled and lay back down, taking in the soft, monotone sound of the shower. You couldn’t tell why he was there, why did he come to your place and act like he owns it but frankly, you couldn’t care less right now about how he behaved. It somehow put you at ease that he decided to show up after what happened before. After what led you to face consequences you wished you wouldn’t have to face.

Few slurs broke up the hushed hum of water and soon it became quiet. Ryomen showed up in your bedroom just few moments after — partially dried, fully naked, with the black markings that adorned his pale skin on full display. Your eyes run down his silhouette, taking in the view no one else had a chance to experience and you let out an exhale. The man ruffled his hair with a towel, an attempt of making it less dripping, and casually slipped under the covers next to you, as if it was his place all along. You spared him the comments about how comfortable he had suddenly become within the confines of your apartment and waited patiently to hear whatever he had to say.

“There was a special curse user earlier,” he began nonchalantly, as he settled against the pillows, supporting his head with both of his arms crossed below it. “He was after you, wanted to suck out everything you have sealed inside.”

“I heard.”

“He wanted to, to quote him, fuck you dry of my power, kill you and make me watch as he became me. That was the plan, to take away the title of king.”

“So, it was about your reputation?” You questioned, letting out a deep sigh and turned away from him. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes piercing a hole through your back.

“Do you think I need to worry about my reputation?” Sukuna growled annoyed and you hummed softly, neither confirming nor denying.

“I guess not.”

You were tired. Exhausted. That was supposed to be your day off, your time to rest and reset but what it turned out to be, was just a disaster. You spent hours arguing with elders of Jujutsu community, trying over and over again to protect yourself, to defend your own life against the accusations that were being thrown at you from every angle and even Gojo couldn’t do much after you willingly released Sukuna’s power from the seal within you. It was bound to happen, you thought you were ready for it ever since it was mentioned for the first time. You were scheduled for execution as it seemed to be safer for the world to kill you, and king’s powers along, than to spare your life and risk it getting out of you, but Satoru then intervened, forcing the date to be postponed. You were high in ranks and he swore you’re capable of keeping the force safe and you did just that for the last twelve months. That’s until you decided to break all the rules and bend to Sukuna’s will.

It wasn’t just that. The cursed user revealed a way to loosen up the lock that held the danger away from the outside world, that he made it known that intimacy was a way to go, your future was decided already. With the knowledge out and about, the elders came to realization that in time there will be more curses or curse users that will come to you to get a taste of that sweet, sweet power and if they won’t do it, Sukuna will. Telling them that the amounts are insignificant didn’t help your case either — those pricks focused more on how you know that rather than what that meant. A diseaster.

“Now what’s wrong, huh? I didn’t kill anybody.”

King threw an arm around your waist, turning his body towards you and supporting his hand on his elbow to see you better. He pulled you into his chest, as if he wished to hide you completely inside his embrace, to protect you from whatever was weighing on your mind and you’d be very surprised if not for the turmoil now raging inside your head.

“My execution has been decided,” you spat out quietly and felt how every muscle in Sukuna’s body tensed significantly. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow night.”

“What execution? I didn’t kill anyone. I got rid of a fucking curse user. I even saved a little brat. Unintentionally, but still.”

“I know, Sukuna, and I am grateful. I really am, but–“

“But what?”

“They found out that sex creates an opening and it just got worse and worse from that moment. They wouldn’t listen and what could I even say to make it sound better. They already figured out that I’m sleeping with you which is enough of a reason to kill me.”

“And what did the jerk in the blindfold say?”

“There’s not much he can do at this point,” you sighed, mindlessly smoothing little circles over the hand that was keeping you close. “From what I know, Gojo stayed in Jujutsu high to discuss it further, but yeah… it’s tough.”

"Should I talk to them?"

"I'm not sure if you insulting or threatening them, could help in any way."

"So what, you expect me to agree to your death?"

"I've thought about it," you said quietly. "God, I'm naive, but I think I'll give you your power back before they execute me. I just hope you don't burn the world to ashes."

"Y/n, for fuck's sake, screw that power. I want you to live. I acted before because that bastard wanted to hurt you. I don't care about my reputation; I don't need to. Sure, it pisses me off that I was robbed of my energy," he babbled, rushing his words. You knew that he wasn't the best at explaining emotions and that he would rather die than admit that he cared for someone. "I need you alive."

"Did the King of Curses perhaps fell..."

"Don't push it," he snapped and you chuckled.

"You two are soooo cute."

Gojo’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, as he materialized out of nowhere, nearly stopping your heart in the process. Last thing you expected was having him witness you in bed, with your back pressed to the very naked Sukuna and you should’ve seen that coming because you knew Satoru will step by once he’s done negotiating. While you were shocked, the curse didn’t even flinch. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

"Satoru—" You lifted yourself up on one of your elbow. "Why are you here?"

"I come with good news," a grin spread across Gojo's face. "You will not be executed tomorrow. They took into consideration the fact that Sukuna helped a child and no one was hurt. Well, I forced them to consider it."

"It was an accident," Ryomen muttered in his own defense, but you glared at him, clearly ordering him to shut up. Oddly enough, this time he complied with no remarks.

"Happy little accidents, as they call it," Satoru giggled and spread his arms. "You're safe. Don't mess around too much for a while though. I'm talking to the curse."

Sukuna rolled his eyes, all four, expressing the particular inconvenience of the request, but you knew he'd tone himself down for as long as necessary.

"I can't believe you convinced them for the second time," you fell back into the pillow, relieved.

"What can I say, I have a strong personal charm," Satoru bowed theatrically. "So, are you two together or do you just fuck?"

"We can discuss that some other time, right?"

"Oh yeah, right. Stay safe, kids!" Saying that, Gojo disappeared and none of you even made an attempt to address how he called the thousand years old king a kid.

You let out a deep breath — the one you held for god knows how long — and felt the stress finally taking its toll on you. An exhaustion, sleepiness, anxiety – all of those came crawling at you at once.

"You're so tensed up," Sukuna purred, placing a small kiss on the side of your neck and he wouldn’t say it, but you could tell from the way his body felt against yours, that the tension left him as well. "You can relax now."

"Right," you muttered, sighing and with the encouragement of his hand, you turned to his face and immediately met his lips. He kissed you like a starved man, with a hand on the back of your neck. Murmuring, you surrendered to his touch, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth, to forget about the cruel and cold world around you and to indulge in whatever that was that you had with Sukuna. “We can relax now.”

[chrissshub]

KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!

°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?

°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected

°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!

In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career. 

 At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.

I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.

That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week. 

Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour. 

Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office. 

When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.

I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom. 

In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.

The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.

Supposed to, of course.

My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint  onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room. 

I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message: 

(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana

Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology. 

She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do. 

Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.

With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.

9:00 A.M.

My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.

“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab. 

As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.

“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”

“Hours?!? What the fu—“

Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???

“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”

“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”

And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom. 

I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind: 

Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s  front door.

Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own. 

“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat. 

“Mhm! Enjoy!”

Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest. 

“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk. 

With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my  black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate. 

Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.

“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”

“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.

I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.

“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”

“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.

I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“

I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.

“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.

I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.

A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean,  his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem. 

Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.

He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.

I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those  muscles weren’t shy of peeking  beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.

I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.

Nonetheless, I had a job to do.

I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet. 

There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile. 

“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”

His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him. 

His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now.. 

He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.

“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”

I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue  caught in a shudder.

“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”

Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last. 

“I sure hope so.”

I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together. 

“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima. 

As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink. 

Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.

I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”

Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.

The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.

It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about. 

“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me. 

“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.

I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat. 

“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”

I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:

“What brings you in today?”

Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.

“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”

“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.

“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”

“So then Ushijima—”

“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.

“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”

“As in my romantic goals or my type?” 

“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.

Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.

After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.

“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”

“Okay, sounds—

“What’s your type?”

Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first. 

My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.

Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.

“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.

“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”

A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.

 “Can’t I ask you some questions too?”

My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.

“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”

There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze. 

But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.

“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out. 

I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter. 

“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”

Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at  the nape of his neck. 

But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate. 

 “I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants. 

“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.

“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It  can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”

Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often. 

“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.

“Well, I can’t say. —

“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”

“Wit.”

“Wit?”

“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”

The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.

“That’s what it takes, hm…”

An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand. 

I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.

“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”

And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through. 

His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind. 

As he stood over me,  I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 

This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.

Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink. 

“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer. 

“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”

With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around. 

I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.

“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”

“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.

“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”

“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”

“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”

Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that. 

I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air. 

“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”

I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.

“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”

“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”

I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”

“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”

“And how are we gonna do that?”

A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.

Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often. 

He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–

“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”

“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”

Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”

I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.

“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.

That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way. 

“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”

He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock.  At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body. 

But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.

“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought. 

“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”

“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”

“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked. 

His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek. 

“To…please a woman.”

“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press. 

If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.

Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.

“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”

“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.

 I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.

"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers. 

“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”

I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.

“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover. 

“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”

From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.

Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way. 

Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once. 

From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled. 

“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”

“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”

“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?

“Want me to show you?”

A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.

Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—

“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”

“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”

Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me  over his lap to straddle him.

“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”

“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”

“And can we do that?” 

With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips. 

“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.

“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own. 

My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths. 

“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin,  pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.

That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I. 

Men are so easy, it’s so cute. 

That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy. 

“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”

I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.

“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”

A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more. 

“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me. 

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”

My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch. 

“Then prove it.”

Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both. 

His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again. 

Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain. 

How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.

“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.

“Hm?"

“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"

"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"

I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants. 

Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below. 

His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.

Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his. 

I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.

His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy. 

His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance. 

Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.

A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?

A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene. 

His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs. 

“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”

He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest. 

I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin. 

My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see. 

“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue. 

A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat. 

His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all. 

“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly. 

Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.

It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.

Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.

His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying. 

Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.

Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth. 

“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”

“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened. 

Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what  worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me. 

My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?

“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin. 

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.

In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.

He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking  his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.

He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.

“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured. 

I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.  

Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.

“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me. 

“Tell me where you want me.”

“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.

My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.

“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.

“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”

“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”

Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.

“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”

Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life. 

“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter. 

Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found. 

Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold  bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.

“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.” 

Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together.  But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks. 

“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”

“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch. 

“Let’s find out what I mean together.”

Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.

A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.

"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.

I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move. 

Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight. 

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"

I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth. 

“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.  

My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on  digging out my cunt.

“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”

“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered. 

I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something  I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him. 

Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene. 

“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out. 

He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.

“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.” 

He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt. 

“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms. 

“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine. 

Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker. 

And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease. 

The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.

“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."

“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”

I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies. 

Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.

Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..

I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?

He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.

He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl. 

I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.

“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.

“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”

“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I  can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”

From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.

As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.

“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.

A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep,  a burst of tears gushing  over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.  

“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”

The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him. 

“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”

Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped  himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth. 

He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly. 

Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.

He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.

To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.

“So about our date, what time works—“

“Oh! You were serious about that?!” 

Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”

 My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.

“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.

“I’d like that.”

TAGS: @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @pixelsanji @slaughterakira @woahhajime @pulchritxde-blog @hannas16 @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @dejwrld @screampied @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @missyasma @simpliheavenli @desiray562 @sleepilysworld @lovemegood @luvrdrop @nuttyunknowndetective-blog @tojibreedingme @widepipepaladiknight @nekoriots @rainycami @tonaken @holychocopie @bloobrryktty @hon3ybee-3 @dabis0bitch @your-next-daydream @mx-luvzz @akiko0-0 @whore02 @tojianddabisslut @dana-fite @downtownbabya @littlemochi @prettiestjade @luvvvjada @keijimilk

[storiesoflilies]

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.

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

[carpkoinobori]

[❣︎] good luck, babe — huh yunjin x reader

[𖤐] 1/3 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

song(s): good luck babe - chappel roan | runaway runaway - mars argo | casual - chappel roan |

summary: you’re dream was to debut with your best friend. what do you do when she doesn’t want to debut as your “friend” anymore?

pairing: idol!huh yunjin x soloist!fem!reader | slight idol!nakamura kazuha x soloist!fem!reader

tags: angst, eventual happy ending

wc: 2.7k

cw: mentions of dieting, internalized homophobia LITE, period-typical homophobia

ex: not beta read will do it later sorry 😞

jennifer had been your best friend since highschool— or I guess you should say huh yunjin, now. you both met in your freshman year, and bonded over your love of music and dance. she was loud, extroverted, but not in an obnoxious way— she was like the sun, shining brightly, oozing charisma. She lit up a room, and it was all you could do to chase her warmth like a desperate, frost-bitten flower.

you were still extroverted, albeit enjoying time away from people. you weren’t popular, you were a bit more reserved, a bit more closed off, but relatively well liked for your humor and academic prowess. You had one or two close friends, one of them being yunjin.

it was the summer before 2019 when she told you she wanted to be an idol. You were sleeping over at her house, since your parents were fighting, again. you, who had no real plans after highschool, whose parents didn’t really care what became of their daughter— you smiled and held her hand. You’d follow the sun anywhere it went.

you both made it onto produce 48, jumping up and down, screaming and crying for just the pure joy of it. Alone, again, with her, you held her head in your hands, finally kneeling in front of each other on the hardwood floor, your foreheads touching as you both panted, giggling and smiling still. The moment quickly broke away when you heard the door open, breaking apart faster than you could blink. That’s when it all started, you could say. When you realized you might like your best friend.

you were a rising star, praised for your smooth, detailed dance and soft, honey way of singing. You began to rank higher and higher, everyone loved you— everyone but your best friend. Everyone but who you wished would love you.

a part of you thinks if you weren’t going through your angsty teenaged romance, you wouldn’t have tried as hard to debut as you did. All your songs were about her, her hair, her voice, her eyes— everything about her. She was your reason to keep going. Maybe she deserved some credit, after all, you would never had been as popular if everyone wasn’t so curious to know who Korea’s new rising rookie was so in love with.

when yunjin was eliminated, it was the worst day of your life. The cameras caught you, with your hand over your mouth, frozen, tears falling down your face. You struggled to breath, but finally got up and ran to her. You didn’t even care if the cameras caught you, you didn’t care- you just needed her- your best friend- you needed her.

you cried for days. you tried not to bother anyone, muffling it with a pillow. you got so good at crying quietly, but everyday you’d wake up with puffy, red-rimmed eyes, and got told to cover them up. You tried to keep contact, but she “couldn’t handle the reminder,” right now, or so she said. Either way, there was a hundred messages you sent before you got that sharp reminder that you would never be anything more than a friend. maybe less, now. She was never yours. You were on borrowed time. the sun shares its warmth with the whole world, you were just naive enough to believe it was you who allowed it to be shared.

after that, Korea’s rising star fell back to earth. The pretty sunflower wilted, and broke apart. You were eliminated shortly after, and some people put two and two together. There was never enough proof for a scandal, but some people believed that you fell apart because that person you were writing about left, but they still weren’t sure who. God, they’re so dumb.

you continued to be a trainee, lying in wait.

you got called into a meeting. You had the opportunity to debut in a new group. Le Sserafim, they called it, an anagram for im fearless. A part of you laughed. you were never fearless. You were a coward. You couldn’t even tell her how much you loved her. You didn’t try to think about it, though. You hadn’t heard that name in years—

it was three years before you heard the name huh yunjin again. She was coming back, and she was going to debut. In the same group.

and like coming home after years of being lost. obviously, you were ecstatic.

all the starving, all the work, all the tears and pain and suffering— it was all for her. it’d all be worth it to feel her warmth again, to get your sun back, to end this constant winter.

You’d get to be her sunflower, again.

The heat of August in Korea was in full force, and you were wearing nothing too impressive, just a Nirvana shirt you’d had for years and a pair of baggy jeans when you saw her. To be completely transparent, you had heard her before you saw her. You could never forget that laugh. You peeked your head from behind the wall, peering down the corridor. You practically ran to her.

You beamed, barely contained excitement buzzing around you. “JEN! You’re back! Oh my god, how are you? I missed y-” you were cut off. She smiled at you, but it didn’t look.. real. It look practiced. She didn’t smile at you like how she used to.

“I’m good, and yeah, it’s great to be back. Nice to see you again, y/n,” she nodded, before she continued walking with the staff member into a different room, farther down along the corridor.

What just happened? Did she.. not like you, anymore? Did she forget? Did she move on? What were you saying— there was nothing to move on from. Stress relief, she called it. Just a distraction. Casual, easy, quick. What were you thinking? No, really, what were you thinking? She had only dated guys all throughout high school, you were probably just her experiment, just something she tried out.

You decided to find out.

You cornered her in a hallway. Not very classy, you know, but where else could you find her?

“Jen- is there a reason you stopped talking to me? I just- you probably know, we’re gonna debut together now, we need to.. work together. I just- I need to know. Did it mean nothing to you? You were my best friend,”

Yunjin looked vaguely uncomfortable, cringing towards the wall, looking to the side before she spoke. “Listen, y/n, we’re about to debut. I’m about to debut. I’ve been working on this for years, and so have you. Why would we throw it all away? We should focus on our debut, not whatever silly things we did when we were younger,” she shrugged, giving a practiced grin. “Besides, it was never serious, right? You know how I am, we both agreed we were just bored-“

“Bored? Because we were fucking bored? You’ve got to be kidding me, Jen. There’s no way you believe that- I fucking loved you-“

“Yeah, well, it’s over now. We’re debuting. Get it together,” she spat acidly, pushing past you and opening the door to the practice studio before looking over her shoulder. “I mean it, y/n. Just forget about it. It didn’t mean anything to me, and it shouldn’t have meant anything to you either,” she said icily, about to close the door. “Just call me Yunjin, now,” she muttered, door clicking shut behind her, leaving you a bitter, heart broken mess.

you didn’t follow. You figured she needed time alone- she didn’t need you, anymore. you wouldn’t have known how wrong she felt saying it, how it felt like ripping out her heart every time she watched your face break. It was for your own good, she thought. You didn’t need her ruining your chances. You both wanted this, right? To debut? That was the dream— she was doing you a favor.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I can debut in a group,” you said seriously, your hands clasped together. “I would rather be a soloist.. I’ve already written a few songs, I’ve planned the concept— you know how popular I was during Produce 48, right? I swear, just give me a shot-“ You pleaded, beginning to ramble before he cut you off.

“Y/n, you’re an excellent singer, and a well-rounded dancer. You’re an asset, to say the least. I never really wanted you in a group to begin with. I think you have a future as a soloist,” he smiled, nodding. “Sure, why not? Tell me your ideas,”

——————————————————————————————————

it all went from there. You were gonna debut. Either way, even if you were in a group- it wouldn’t be with your best friend, Jennifer. It’d be with Huh Yunjin, idol extraordinaire. You didn’t like her, much. You didn’t want to be her flower, or anyones, for that matter. Returning to the ground was a better choice. Sunflowers were always too bright for you anyway. You preferred white carnations, anyway.

You made your debut around the same time as Le Sserafim, and it was a smash hit. You released your debut album, LIMERENCE, with the title track ‘Good Luck, Babe!’ You were widely praised, forums discussing whether or not the song was about the same person you sang about in Produce 48. They were right, of course, but they’d never guess who. You were on a music show, getting your first win. The Le Sserafim members clapped, and you smiled graciously at them, your gaze lingering on Yunjin’s before you turned to the cameras, smiling, waving, holding the trophy before you were handed the mic for an encore. You smiled, readjusting the trophy in your arms before your voice began to ring out on the loud stage.

“I’m fine, it’s cool, you can say that we are nothing but you know the truth,” you began, glancing at Yunjin not-so-subtlely.

“and guess I’m the fool, with her arms out like an angel through the car sun roof,” memories of fooling around, joking, sneaking out your parents house to meet her, to meet Yunjin. “I don’t wanna call it off, but you don’t wanna call it love,” your voice grew in volume, periodically facing and waving at the cameras, before facing Yunjin once again. You really didn’t care if this was posted on forums, saying there was something going on saying you were rude, you didn’t care— you just needed her to know.

“You only wanna be the one that I call baby,” Yunjin tensed under your gaze, averting her eyes. Sakura and Chaewon looked at her knowingly, a bit disappointed. Kazuha and Eunchae looked a bit confused on why, exactly, you were staring at Yunjin like you wanted her to explode.

“You could kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling. You could say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason,” memories of the seen texts, never responded to, flashed through Yunjin’s mind. That stupid argument a few months ago- was this about her? Who was she kidding, of course it was about her, y/n only loved her. She was secure, in that. She hated it though, she didn’t want to ruin your chances, you should move on from her— she wasn’t good for you, she never would be, you deserved better.

“Good luck, babe! Well, good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good luck, babe! Well good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” you walked across the stage, staring into the cameras as you said this. You winked, giving a winning smile before continuing. “I’m cliche, who cares? It’s a sexually explicit kind of love affair,” another wink. “And I cry, it’s not fair,” you gave a theatric frown, pouting. “I just need a little lovin, I just need a little air,” You kept your gaze off Yunjin for the next few lyrics, acting as if you were now pleading to the crowd, the cameras, for love. Yunjin continued to watch nervously. Why weren’t you looking at her anymore? It started to sound as if you were really, actually over her.

“Think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love. I just wanna love someone who calls me baby-” you began again, gaze lingering on Kazuha, winking at her general direction, waving, and turning back to the cameras. You continued to sing, entertaining the crowd before beginning to look a little more bitter, a little more jaded, a little more angry. “When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night, with your head in your hands, you’re nothing more than his wife. And when you think about me, all of those years ago, you’re standing face to face with ‘I told you so’, you know I hate to say it, ‘I told you so,’ you know I hate to say, but- I told you so!” You cried, clutching the mic as you sang passionately, years of resentment, of confusion, of anger, of regret, pain- everything you had felt for Yunjin, everything you would feel. This is what this was for.

“You could kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling, you can say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason,” you spat, making brief eye contact with Yunjin, hatred flashing in your eyes, a mask for the hurt to wear.

“Good luck, babe, well good luck, babe. You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good luck, babe. Well good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” you sang, crescendo falling, the song ending as the crowd cheered your name, and you finally walked off stage. You walked the building until you found an isolated part with little to no people. You leaned on the vending machine next to the water fountain, sighing. You told your manager you had to use the bathroom, but it was just an excuse to slip away.

You looked up when you heard footsteps. It was the pretty Le Sserafim member you saw standing near Sakura. Kazuha, you think her name was? You’d have to double check.

“Oh, hello,” You smiled, bowing slightly.

“Ack- oh, hello! Congratulations on your win- I liked your song,” The Japanese girl bowed, clasping her hands together.

“Thank you, I quite liked your song as well,” You praised. “You’re very pretty,” you said, a slight grin on your face as the other girl blushed, spluttering with her words. “What’s your name?” “Kazuha- Nakamura Kazuha,” she responded quickly, stuttering. You figured she was Japanese from her name, and smiled warmly. “it’s nice to meet you, then. I’m Y/n,” You nodded, outstretching your hand, leaning in close to the flustered girl. She took it and you shook her hand, before hearing another set of footsteps.

you looked up to see Yunjin, who looked a tad angry. “Y/n. Congratulations on your win,” she said in a stilted, stiff tone.

“Thank you, Yunjin,” you replied back coolly, carefully practiced facade slipping back into place.

“I’ve got to get going now, Jen- oh, sorry, Yunjin,” You said mockingly, not using honorifics. There were no cameras to catch you here, anyway. You walked off, leaving a dumbfounded Kazuha and even angrier Yunjin.

“…she’s really pretty-,” Kazuha began dreamily, clasping her hands together.

“No,” Yunjin said gruffly, beginning to walk back to the group with Kazuha. “Don’t even think about it, Kazuha! She’s mine,” Yunjin exclaimed childishly, warning Kazuha a bit loudly, causing Chaewon and Sakura to turn to her. “If that song was about you, Yunjin, then I think she might not be yours as much as you think,” Sakura said plainly, tone giving no room for argument as Yunjin averted her eyes, shame and embarrassment burning her face a light red.

‘This was going to be a long comeback period,’ Yunjin thought bitterly, groaning internally as she saw Kazuha begin to scroll though y/n’s Instagram posts as they waited for their manager’s car.

ermmmm hello! I’ve never written for x reader before so I’ve only ever written in third person, bear with me here while I learn how to write this genre ><! this will be three-ish(?) parts. i don’t know who for sure y/n will end up with yet, but.. I will be posting backstories to this, as it was very yn-centric and we don’t get much of yunjins thoughts. Y/n seems delusional but I SWEAAAR she’s not. I’ll post some more works abt how they acted and stories from pd48 days… she’s not insane guys!

also white carnations symbolize pure love and GOOD LUCK. get it?GOOD LUCK. GOOD LUCK, BABE! I’m so funny.

i wrote this in like 3 hours of pure chappel roan good luck babe brain rot pleas forgive me. I’ll beta read it in a few hours after I sleep. thank you jihyoruri for letting me ramble in ur anons for so long 🙏also I love asks plssss send them. byebye now, have a good day! :3

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Ten

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.

WC: 6.3k

CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off

AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby

It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 

But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 

You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 

Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 

You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 

“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 

“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 

“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 

At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 

You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 

But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 

But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 

Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 

You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 

“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 

You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 

You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 

So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 

The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 

“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 

Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 

He was everything. He was wonderful. 

“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 

“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 

But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 

“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.

One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 

The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 

Your entire body sagged with relief. 

So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 

As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 

A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 

You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 

It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 

It could’ve been a crown. 

“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 

You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 

But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 

The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 

You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 

Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-

“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 

You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 

And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 

But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 

The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 

At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 

But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 

You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 

You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 

A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 

But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 

But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 

You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 

But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 

The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 

Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 

You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 

You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 

But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 

But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 

“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 

None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 

Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 

Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 

“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 

“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 

Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 

Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 

It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 

But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 

It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 

“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 

You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 

And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 

Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 

Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 

“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 

San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 

With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 

Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 

Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 

The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 

Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 

If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 

It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 

He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 

He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 

You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  

Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 

You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 

But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 

It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 

Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 

Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 

But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 

As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 

Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 

You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 

Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 

By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 

You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 

But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 

But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 

You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 

But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.

In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 

All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 

You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 

Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 

Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 

The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 

You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 

Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 

“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 

Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 

You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 

“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 

Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 

“Thank you too, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 

But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 

But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 

You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 

After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 

Your heart cracked again. 

Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 

Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 

“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 

“Just open it, please!” 

With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 

“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 

“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 

You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 

But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 

Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 

“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 

“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 

You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 

“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 

“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 

He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 

“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 

“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 

You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 

Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 

Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 

You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 

It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 

“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 

“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 

“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 

Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 

“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.

“Them?”

“Yes, them, now go look!” 

Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 

And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 

Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 

Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 

So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 

And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 

The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 

“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 

It cracked your heart all over again. 

With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 

You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 

How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 

But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 

But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 

You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 

But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 

Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 

But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 

“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 

You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 

In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 

You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 

It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 

A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 

The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 

Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 

“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 

Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 

“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 

“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 

But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 

It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 

You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 

But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 

If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 

And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 

There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 

When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 

You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 

The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 

But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 

“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 

Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 

The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 

But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 

It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 

But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 

An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 

Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 

Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 

“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 

“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 

“Be safe, nae sarang.” 

“I will, Eomma.” 

They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 

It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 

You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 

It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 

But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 

As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 

The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 

You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 

“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 

“I will. You too.” 

Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 

You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 

Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 

But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Propaganda why Aang is insufferable:

He has some very bad ideas that the narrative never explores and gets rewarded by the narrative for bad behavior.

Mostly just the way he deals with his crush on Katara and kind of forces it on her. It’s honestly really shitty because she never truly reciprocated his feelings and had plenty of moments where she shows she’s just trying not to hurt his feelings with a straight up rejection, but ends up with him in the end just because that’s what he wanted.

Like we know what it looks like when Katara actually has a crush on someone, she wouldn’t let the situation like the war affect how she feels about demonstrating those feelings when she’s so in touch with them. Like how she was with Jet and Haru. I just wish the writing team did a better job of showing Katara developing feelings for Aang way better than they did lol.

Made a series that was otherwise reasonably tolerable impossible to watch. I hate that all the jokes written for his character target 8-year-olds exclusively. Also his little TV show keeps appearing on my dash no matter how many words I block and I hate it

Propaganda why Gregory is insufferable:

This boy is so poorly written, it hurts. In the gameplay, he just acts annoyed and pissed off the whole time. Then, in the endings, he becomes a whole other character who acts scared and sad, which does not match the previous hours of gameplay AT ALL

But that just annoyed me

What really made me hate him was the GGY and Robot Gregory stuff, because OH NO, Gregory could not just be a normal kid who got into this situation by chance, he has to be a robotic recreation of the Crying Child, despite not acting one bit like CC, or, according to the GGY story in the books, he's responsible for multiple murders and is Afton's/the Mimic's apprentice.

Just let this kid be fucking normal!

(Also, unlike a lot of people, I really enjoy what the Ruin DLC did to his character. And don't try to say that's still the mimic, the mimic recycles dialog from the main game. This Gregory uses completely unique dialog, and unless the mimic was able to form new words in his voice all of a sudden, that's still him. He had to make a tough decision, one life or over hundreds and I can respect that)

Suffers from being made into another one of Matpat's ""is actually a robot theory"". It is annoying as hell, especially if its canon. We do not need robot children theories in a game about possession, child murder and serial killers. Especially not dumb theories about him being a 'recreation' of someone with a completely different personality. It has completely ruined any enjoyment I had in that character because we're just going back to the Afton family again

Someone made a good point about how his personality seems to be reminiscent of a certain trend where a video game protagonist has to be snarky even though it would’ve worked better for the horror atmosphere if he was more scared because it would’ve made the player feel his fear. I recall people being surprised about his personality and expecting him to be more scared, and I assume the developers were just afraid of ppl calling Gregory “whiny”, but it still feels like a missed opportunity

[shockercoco]

Modern Lonliness

Major John Egan x reader

Warnings - little bit of angst, but mostly fluff

Word count - 2159

a/n - this was literally supposed to be posted over a month ago for the ending of MOTA, but I kept writing for Austin lol. Might as well get it out the drafts now. I also basically had to rewrite the whole thing bc wtf was I thinking a month ago. I hope you enjoy :)

The war is finally over, allowing all the soldiers to go home, including the two best friends Buck and Bucky. The only thing holding Bucky back from being completely content about leaving is the fact that he doesn’t have that special someone to go back to.

Buck has Marge, and of course he’s happy for him, but Bucky just wishes had found a girl before he got sent off, someone who would know how he was before the war. Buck would always tell him not to worry and that he would find someone soon, but each time it doesn’t give him any reassurance.

You have been best friends with Marge since college, so when she told you her fiance was coming home you had nothing but joy for her. You had been a huge supporter of their relationship since the beginning, and while Buck was away you were always at her house comforting her for when she cried or just needed a friend. During his absence, Buck would write to you to check in on Marge because you and him both knew Marge would never tell him how she was really doing.

Currently, you are walking out of her front door to go back home when you see a taxi pull up in the driveway. You didn’t think anything of it until you saw Buck exiting the vehicle with his bags in hand. You shout for Marge to come outside, and it doesn’t take long for her to sprint into Buck’s arms after seeing him in the driveway. With a smile, you watched as he held onto her tightly and so lovingly, knowing this is exactly what Marge needed after a bad week. 

Deep down, though, you were wishing you had someone coming home to you, someone whose arms you could run into and kiss you like his life depended on it. When it came to the dating scene you never had much luck, so after a while you just accepted the defeat and gave up, deciding it was better to put your energy towards your career. 

During your girl talks, Marge would always tell you that you would find someone soon, and how perfect of a person you were, but year after year of not finding a relationship was making it hard to believe her. 

A couple days after Buck’s return, Marge invited you over because she was hosting a barbeque for Buck and some of his friends. You tried your best to get out of it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She also mentioned that Bucky – Buck’s friend from the military who you’ve only heard while reading letters – would be there and that it would be an opportunity for you.

You didn’t find it unusual that she was trying to set you up with someone because this is what she always does, but you just weren’t in the mood to have small talk with a guy who probably wouldn’t find you attractive.

When Buck had invited Bucky – because when are they not together – he turned down the offer, and just like Marge, Buck wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

So, now here you were in Marge’s backyard surrounded by men and their partners. The only people you knew were the hosts, so you sat on the steps of the back porch with Marge beside you. Marge also didn’t know many of the guests given the fact everyone was Buck’s friend from the military, so she kept you company as she watched Buck man the grill with a few other guys beside him.

Bucky was among them, standing right next to his best friend and sipping on a beer as he talked. Every now and again, he would run a hand through his hair to push some of his loose curls, and you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive as you found yourself admiring him from a distance.

“Are you going to say something to him?” Marge asked you as she swished around the lemonade in her glass. She had been watching you this whole time as you practically drooled in the direction of the grill.

“Of course not,” you say as you turn your attention back to her, not before glancing around to see if anyone else had caught you staring. 

Thankfully some of the women had formed a little group and were laughing and gossiping amongst themselves, so there was little chance anyone had noticed you.

“And why not?” asked Marge with furrowed brows. “He’s a nice guy, I promise.”

“I’m sure he is, but it’s not like I know what to say. Plus look at him, he’s way out of my league,” you reply as you take a sip of lemonade from your own glass. 

“No he’s not, he’s just like any other guy,” she scoffs followed by a laugh.

“And just like with any other guy, I have nothing to talk about. What do we even have in common? He also just got back from a war camp in Europe, what if I say something that triggers him? 

“You’re overthinking. Just start off with a simple hello, and then go from there. He’s a huge flirt so knowing him he’ll do most of the talking,” she smiles. 

She was always so optimistic about these kinds of things, but you would be too if you were getting married to a guy who basically worships you.

You quickly finish the last of your lemonade before standing up. “I’m going to get a refill,” you mumble as you walk up the steps and into the house. You needed an excuse to get away from the conversation, and to get out of the heat. The sundress you were wearing was cute and gave you airflow, but it also exposed your arms and legs to harsh sun.

You head into the kitchen and open the fridge to take out the pitcher of lemonade Marge had made earlier in the day. After refilling your glass, you thought it was best to linger in the kitchen for a bit longer and decided to grab a plate of fruit out of the fridge to keep you busy.

Just as you jump up on the kitchen counter to get comfortable, you hear the back door opening. Next thing you know, you see Bucky walking into the kitchen, letting out a sigh that seems to be of exhaustion. He flashes you a smile when he notices you, before proceeding to grab another beer out of the fridge.

“You’re Marge’s friend right?” he asks as he shuts the door and turns to face you. 

“Yep,” is all you say before sticking a grape in your mouth.

“I’m John, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he says. He makes direct eye contact as sticks a hand out for you to shake, which you do, before popping the cap off his beer.

“So I’ve heard. I’ve seen your picture in Marge’s letters,” you respond as you focus your attention on the plate in your hands and begin moving some fruit around.

“Oh, yeah? Did I atleast look good in those pictures? Buck never lets me read his letters,” He smirks as he leans against the counter opposite from you.

You almost choke on the piece of fruit you had just placed in your mouth from his statement. You feel your face and ears turning warm so you turn your head and look out the kitchen window to avoid his gaze.

You stop yourself from smiling and cover it by clearing your throat. “Well  you were in a uniform and in black and white, so I couldn’t really tell.” 

“Understandable, black and white photos can be misleading,” he jokes, taking a swig from his bear. There’s a short silence that follows that isn’t completely awkward, but not exactly comfortable to you either. You hope he doesn’t notice.

The silence is interrupted by the back door opening and Marge sticking her head inside. She grins as her eyes flicker between you and Bucky before stopping on you to say, “Are you coming back out or what?”

“In a second, I’m just going to cool off in here for a bit,” you tell her. She gives you a nod before closing the door.

“Not a fan of big gatherings, I take it,” Bucky says once Marge is gone.

“What makes you say that?” you steal a glance at him before looking back out the window.

You smile as you watch Marge join Buck at the grill, making him turn his head to give her a quick kiss.

“I can tell you’re avoiding going back outside, and I don’t blame you. I’m doing the same thing myself,” he answers.

“What are you avoiding?” you finally turn your head to face him.

“Nothing specific really, I’m just not in the mood for conversating and answering people’s questions right now. That doesn’t include you though,” he looks over at you with a small smile. ” I used to love being around people and having fun, but now all I want to do is leave.” 

You watch as Bucky stares at the wall, going distant. His mood seems to have shifted from the one he had when he first stepped foot in the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

Your voice interrupts his thoughts and brings him back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine…I’m just…I can tell I’m a different person ever since I got back, and I’m not sure I like this version of me.” He sets his beer on the counter and folds his arms, no longer in the mood to drink it. 

“I don’t think anyone expects you to be the same.”

“Well yeah, it’s just the fact that everyone I meet from now on will only know this version of me. They won’t know how different I was before the war, and they won’t understand what I’ve been through. Like Buck has Marge to talk to, and she understands because of the letters he would send her. I don’t have that,” Bucky says before adding, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dump this all on you.”

You just give him a smile. Even though you will never understand completely what Bucky went through, you do have some grasp on what he’s feeling. To you it’s obvious that he puts on a mask when he’s around people, and won’t let his feelings show unless he’s alone – harboring his emotions.

“I know how close you are with Buck, have you ever told him about how you felt? It always helps to talk to someone.” you tell him.

He shakes his head, “No, I don’t want to bother him. He has his own problems.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” you tell him, but he just shakes his head again. “Well...I know we’ve just met, but you could talk to me. I mean, you just opened up to me in a kitchen within ten minutes of meeting me. I’m obviously a great listener Only if you want to, though,” you end with a hopeful smile.

Bucky finally looks away from the wall to look you in the eye with his eyebrows raised. “Really?” he asks and you nod. “That would be nice.”

And that’s where the bond between the two of you started, and it only continued to grow stronger. You would meet up with him for drinks, lunch, or just for a walk through the park. Bucky would tell you everything, from him joining the military and meeting Buck to what he has experienced throughout the past few years. You could tell that he would get emotional when he brought up certain topics, but he never cried around you, even though you always encouraged him to let his feelings out.

One day when he invited you to dinner, you brought it up to Marge. She quickly got excited and said it was a date, but you just brushed it off and told her it was just another casual meeting. Nonetheless, you still decided to put effort into your appearance – more than you normally do – and once the dinner was over, you realized she was right.

Bucky ended up confessing to you how his feelings for you have grown over the past few weeks. At first you were shocked, but when you realized he was being serious, you admitted that you felt the same way. 

You didn’t care that Bucky thought he was a ruined person with a lot of baggage, everyone has their hardships, after all. Bucky loved how you enjoyed being with him after everything he had told you, and how you accepted him for who he is now.

When you eventually told Marge that you and Bucky were official, she wasn’t surprised at all and brought up how she always said you would find someone. When Bucky had told his best friend, Buck was happy for him and gave Bucky his fair share of I told you so’s.

[sinsirellaxx]

hii could you do toxic Matteo (or all the boys) and they get mad and really aggressive so they guilt trip the reader basically saying it’s there fault and that they have help him😭? Do you get what I mean

This mess is your fault

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warning: Toxic relationship

A/N: Hi, I hope I got it right – if not, just send me another request. 🙈

Enjoy!

The first few months of your relationship Mattheo had been nothing but sweet – he was cheeky and such a tease, yes … but he would never treat you poorly. You were the love of his life after all. That what he always told you.

There were a few curious incidents that sent a wave of nausea through you whenever you thought of them, but you couldn’t tell whether those incidents were justified or not – you had never been in a relationship before and had nothing to compare. Mattheo had acted out of boyfriendly-duty, right?

Thankfully, those incidents had been rare and predominated by your otherwise bubbly and cheesy boyfriend. The biggest change you had seen in your boyfriend, however, was after your first time with him: It had been on your first anniversary – you had wanted to wait, and he had been respectful of your wishes. Mattheo had been careful with you, constantly watching out for you and asking if everything was alright. That night you had been sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. That he was the right one. But soon after, he had grown more possessive – demanding to control everything you did and supervising most of your conversations with others.

At first, you hadn’t thought anything of it – the new, more aggressive Mattheo had sent butterflies through your stomach, leaving you feeling giddy and excited. The thought of him being jealous and possessive seemed more … romantic. At least, that was what you had told yourself.

But when he started going through your dresser, throwing everything he deemed inappropriate onto one pile – even your favorite pieces – you lost it.

“What the hell do you think you are doing, Matty?!” You gasped as you ran to him, pulling on his right arm to move him away from your dresser. Mattheo didn’t budge, roughly pushing you away with the arm you held onto, causing you to trip over your feet and fall down with a yelp. He had never laid a hand on your before – the spot on your chest hurt from the way he had pushed you with his elbow.

“I’m cleaning your dresser, what else could I be doing?” He spat, not fazed that he had just pushed you to the floor. Your eyes widened at his tone, your heart beating faster as the memories of every weird incident rushed over you, alarm bells ringing in your head. No, please no. You told yourself, trying to calm yourself. Mattheo was still your Matty, right? Taking in a deep breath, you slowly stood up, “No, Mattheo. I can see that. But why? I don’t want you to do that, so stop it.”

“And not just that, I want you to stop reading through my messages and – I have the feeling tthat you are trying to control and manipulate me all the time.”

At this Mattheo stopped, his shoulders tensed as he let his head hang down, hands resting on the wardrobe rail. He chuckled lowly, before pushing himself away from the remaining clothing. “It’s funny how you think you have a say in any of this, but I have to admit, you are smarter than I thought, love.” Turning around to face you he took a few steps towards you, his eyes dangerously narrow – the dangerous glint in them causing you to take a step back whenever he took one towards you. “You are mine now. You do as I say. If I don’t want you to dress like that, you don’t. If I want to throw away your clothes, I will. If I don’t want, you to talk to your friends then you will just have to accept it.” Mattheo smiled widely at you; his head tilted to the side.

When the back of your legs finally hit your bed, you were forced to stop, holding your breath when his hand came to cup your cheek.

“Do you understand, love?” He whispered against your lips. “And really, this is all just your fault – you made me like this. You have been neglecting our relationship, trying to draw the attention of other people to you. I have to protect you.” Pressing a feather like kiss onto your slightly parted lips he took a step back.

"This mess is your fault."

[foreos]

the bad kids rated by how much they would like sonic the hedgehog

a sequel to my hatchetfield version

- riz gukgak: 1/10 i don’t think riz even touches video games. i can’t imagine riz having any strong media interests because his life is so busy all the time so i doubt he would think about sonic the hedgehog at all. if he ever played a sonic game though i think he’d be like unnaturally good at it because he’s got great reaction times and it’s not hard for him to intuit what the best routes are. he’d probably only play in like a social situation though.

- kristen applebees: 10/10 kristen grew up playing sonic games with her brothers and she likes them. sonic is very very good for adhd brains and i think she likes running around really really fast. fucking AWFUL at the games though she has a dexterity score of four. she has never passed a quicktime prompt in her life but that does not stop her from booting up the games and playing the first three or so levels. doesn’t really engage with the media past the games but that’s just because if she had a comic book she’d lose it and while she watched some of the cartoons as a kid, it’s been a long time. probably hasn’t played in years.

- adaine abernant: 10/10 she did not know what sonic was until freshman year and at first she did not see the appeal. she’s never been allowed plain and stupid fun in her entire life and when confronted with it she’s just like…why? but i think as time passes i could actually see adaine really fucking enjoying it if she decided to suspend her disbelief and embrace it. i think in another timeline adaine is much geekier but much like the other bad kids she currently does not have time for that. there’s an alternate universe where adaine is a comic book nerd with sonic opinions but i don’t think any of us are ready for that. there’s probably other franchises she would possibly like better but i think she could get really into it.

- gorgug thistlespring: 0/10 video games frustrate him. his fingers are too big for the buttons and sonic moves way too fast. like kristen he cannot get past the first few levels and so he and sonic don’t really see eye to eye. he wouldn’t say he hates the guy or has anything against the franchise but he would probably rather do, like, anything else.

- fig faeth: 10000/10 i think fig would like it. while it does not match her aesthetic i think she definitely grew up with sonic games as a kid and is pretty good at them. definitely had to beat video game levels for gilear growing up. as i said earlier with kristen, sonic is very good for adhd brain and i think she likes to build as much speed as she can, plus sonic music is fucking dope and i think fig is a fan of stupid fun. sometimes fig finds herself wishing that he would go even faster, though.

- fabian seacaster: -100000/10 he’s scared of rodents and obsessed with being cool fabian does not like sonic. yes, i know sonic is not a rodent but like. fabian does not care that is a walking talking blue rat with one weird eyeball that has two pupils and he is wearing NO clothes. plus, sonic is considered deeply lame by the general public, especially high schoolers, so fabian would not be caught dead in even the same room where sonic-related activities are occurring. fabian goes out of his way to avoid any and all sonic media, which is a shame because when fabian was a kid bill seacaster impulsively bought Every Video Game so there’s probably a completed sonic collection somewhere in fabian’s house. like i think fabian owns sonic chronicles and tails’s sky patrol and sonic labyrinth and he has no idea. in another life fabian is a shadow fan.

BONUS:

- ragh barkrock: 1/10, like gorgug and riz he’s just not really a video game guy.

- ayda aguefort: 1000000000/10 she would fucking love it. she would love it so so so much. much like adaine i think ayda would be extremely geeky in another, less stressful life and i think if fig introduced her to it she would be all fucking in. comics tv shows video games, all of it. i think ayda would eat that shit up.

- cassandra: 10/10 blaze reminds her of kalina and she thinks it’s fun and i am desperate for cassandra to have fun.

- aelwyn: 0/10 absolutely not. she agrees with fabian that sonic is creepy and should wear clothes. she tries not to think about it, ever.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Inspired by this pic made by @infernally_fond

-

When the devil asks if you want to play, you’re supposed to say no. It’s a lesson most people learn as children. Some don’t take it to heart. They say yes instead because the devil promises he will give them something they desperately want in return.

Tav says yes because she fancies him.

That’s alright. They aren’t playing a game of life or death, and her soul isn’t on the line; just her dignity, and she never had much of that to begin with. Only an idiot would agree to a game they don’t understand. Tav isn’t stupid (honest!) but Raphael’s easy smile and request for her company – mostly the smile, it’s a dangerous weapon put it away damn you – chased off all her answers that weren’t ‘yes, of course, I’d love to play Lanceboard with you!’ So now she sits in his room at Sharess’ Caress watching him watch her across the table as she bumbles and bullshits her moves, losing pieces and losing her mind, because she knows he knows she has no idea what she’s doing but he hasn’t said a damn word about it.

He chooses a piece. She watches his long, deft fingers carefully position it on the board. Lucky thing. “Your move,” he says, languid. Everything about him is relaxed, even his posture. He’s resting his cheek on his fist, elbow on the table. Awful manners; must’ve been raised in a barn. His dark eyes glint in a way that makes it obvious he’s enjoying her squirming, her buffoonery. His expression is cooking her from the inside: not-quite-placid, could be conceived as bored if not for the subtle smoulder, a quirk of mildly sadistic amusement. If he keeps staring at her like that, she fears she might do something foolish.

She blindly grabs her piece. She doesn’t know which it is; knows it’s hers from the colour and that’s about it. Smacks it onto a square that’s (probably) alright. Nods, leans back in her chair, pretends to be confident with her approach, her strategy. “There. Your turn.”

Raphael blinks lazily at her. At the board. “Inspired. Truly,” he drawls, making his next move. “By madness, but nonetheless.”

Tav purses her lips. She doesn’t miss the way his gaze flickers to them. “What is madness but a denial of reality? That’s what you said before, right?”

His mouth twists with a lopsided, barely-there smirk. He surely doesn’t miss her glances, either. “Indeed I did. And what reality are you denying at this moment, little mouse?”

Knowing how to play this bloody game, she thinks, wishing he’d challenged her to checkers instead. “Letting you win,” she responds. Round peg, square hole – put her piece here, steal the piece she jealously witnessed him fondle, strangle it in her fist for its crime. He chuckles; rich, deep, raspy.

“A daring manoeuvrer, and highly illegal.” Yet he does nothing to rectify her blatant ignorance. (Actually, devil, what’s illegal is that chuckle). He simply makes his next move. “You know, it’s usually customary for one to be aware of the stakes of a game before they play it.”

And this, Tav thinks in resignation, is why he’s let me trample all over the match like a drunken elephant. She never learns. Somewhere, Wyll is shaking his head in disappointment.

“You didn't tell me there were stakes,” she accuses; considers pouting but doubts that would work on this crafty creature. “I thought we were just playing for fun.”

“And we are, my dear friend,” Raphael coos, terribly entertained (bastard). “What’s more fun than the thrill of a daring wager?”

“The security of knowing I’m not going to lose my soul?”

Raphael’s grin stretches; sharpens. “Oh, but I thought you were going to beat me. Where has your confidence gone, all of a sudden?”

He’s wretched. Vile. Despicable. Tav is so attracted to him it’s ludicrous. “I’ll win,” she snaps, “and then maybe I’ll take your soul instead. I’ll put it in a little jar and keep it with my other shiny baubles and all the things Scratch dug up. How’s that for a wager?”

“Riveting. Inexperienced, as far as eternal torment goes, but it’s a start,” the devil praises, pleased when Tav scowls at him. “Though, as delectable as your soul would be, it isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“What, then?”

“Hmm…” He makes a show of drumming his fingers on the table in thought. Large, lithe, well-groomed; she likes his hands. Often wonders what other kinds of magic they can do. (Look away, Tav! This is serious!) “How about, if I win, you tell me exactly why you agreed to this game. Why you abandoned the safety of your companions and entered my den alone. Why you were so eager to say yes. And don’t think about lying, little mouse. I’ll know if you do.”

Well, shit. Letting him eat her soul didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. One does not simply inform a devil that they like him – especially not this devil. He will use that knowledge, that power, for naught but nefarious purposes, manipulating her much more than he already does. The worst part is, Tav knows she’ll enjoy it. You’re well and truly fucked, mate, as Karlach would say.

Stomach in her shoes, Tav plucks up all the courage and stupidity she has left. “And if I win? What do I get?”

“That’s up to you,” Raphael says. He clearly thinks he has the upper hand. He’s right, but damn him anyway.

Fine, then. In for a penny and all that. “If I win, I want a kiss.”

She’s surprised him, she can tell. She’s surprised herself, scarcely believing she actually said that, but it’s out there now, in the open, lingering like a bad stink. She’s basically already given him the answer he wanted, but Tav isn’t under the illusion he didn’t know beforehand. The power, you see, comes from getting her to admit it aloud.

“A…kiss,” he repeats slowly.

“Yes.” She sticks to her guns despite her racing heart, sweaty palms, impending sense of doom. “From you, obviously.”

He considers it for a long moment, statuesque, giving almost nothing away. Tav does her best not to squirm out of her seat, pretends to be as aloof and unaffected as he is, to questionable success. The satisfaction glittering in Raphael’s dark eyes makes her grind her teeth. He’s toying with his food, as he is wont to do. Stretching out this moment until she’s at her most uncomfortable. Pulling her nerves taut. The split second before they break, he responds.

“Acceptable. Shall we continue, then?”

“Let’s.”

Tav expects a massacre. Tries to mentally prepare for him to pull the rug from beneath her feet, decimate her pathetic attempts, and then string her up by her metaphorical toes and bleed her for every pathetic confession and admission she can give while he gorges on her emotional turmoil (and masochistic delight). That isn’t what happens. Instead, she wins – in about as loose as the term can be used, but still.

“My, my!” Raphael exclaims, faking every bit of awe as he beholds the board, the claiming of his king, the crumbling of his miniature marble empire. “It seems my devilish wits weren’t enough to stop the might of the Hero of Baldur’s Gate. I’ve been bested. A villain, defeated. Quite the fitting end for this little tale. Don’t you agree?”

Tav sits in stunned silence. Of course he let her do this. She’s not completely delusional (yet), but the implications for why are taking their sweet time sinking into her holey grey matter.

“Ah, but I suppose the Hero wants what she’s owed,” the devil continues, sweeping his arms in a grand gesture. “Let it never be said that I am not a man of my word. Come then, Tav. Claim your prize.”

For a moment, Tav doesn’t move. In some ways this is worse than if he won. Raphael waits, a smirk teasing its way onto his face. He’s challenging her. Daring her. Come into my lair, said the spider to the fly. She’s already here, and she might be stupid, but she’s not a coward. Her knees only tremble slightly as she stands, makes her way to him.

He gets up, too.

He’s not much taller than her, but Tav feels like she’s approaching a mountain. The coals that have been simmering in her belly all evening catch flame. This close, the smell of him is overwhelming: cherries, smoke, fire. The heat he gives off can’t be anything but Infernal, despite his human guise. Anticipation sets her jaw, her throat dry. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking as he slowly, slowly, leans forward, dark eyes fixed on her mouth. His breath is hot as it fans across her face. Tav’s lips part unconsciously, eyelids closing. He’s but a whisper away, the silk of his sinful mouth a phantom against her own…

He kisses her cheek. The left one, high on her cheek bone, and though he’s completely composed, she can hear the brief huff of amusement leave his nose as he pulls away.

“There you are,” he says, jovial, almost business-like as she gapes at him, humiliated, flabbergasted, furious. “One kiss, its nature wholly unspecified, delivered as promised. I always deal fairly.”

This fucker’s trying not to laugh. Tav can see the tell-tale twitch of his lips (lips whose imprint burns on her cheek, entirely not where she wanted thank you very much) and the gleam of delight in his eye. Oh yes, he’s had fun with her today.

“Is something wrong?” He asks her innocently when she does nothing but glare at him.

“No,” she grits out.

“Good,” he purrs, unable to stop the shit-eating grin from spreading across his face. “I’d hate to hear that you’re dissatisfied with your victory. I did my very best to acquiesce. As a little advice for the future, from one thrill-seeker to another: you might try being more specific with the terms of your wagers. After all, what’s that saying you mortals are so fond of? Ah, yes. The devil’s in the details. Keep that in mind for next time, hm? Ta-ta.”

A click of his fingers, a spark of hellish magic, and she’s standing in the middle of their rooms at the Elfsong tavern.

“Arsehole!”

From where he’s lounging on a sofa, Astarion lowers the book he’s reading enough to raise an eyebrow at Tav. “Who’s the arsehole, darling, and what have they done?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tav mutters. “Where’s Gale? I need to learn how to play lanceboard.”

[lady-of-endless]

Things you do that make their heart melt

(La Squadra Esecuzioni x reader hcs)

Author's Note: Those are random but that's the point. I tried to be a bit explicit for those who are at the start of Jojo part 5 and maybe don't remember each character's Stand name or ability. I couldn't write this only for my 3 darlings from La Squadra as I started it because I love them all too much. Proud La Squadra stan. Excuse any grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

Risotto Nero

- How you can balance being serious and being affectionate so easily. This is something he admires a lot and wishes to be capable of too sometimes. Yes, he's a serious and stoic man but the whole La Squadra knows just how big his heart is. Sometimes Risotto wishes he could show a bit of affection to the ones dear to him. Risotto is a softie inside but the nature of his occupation forces him to be as reserved and stern as he is now.

- How you can protect yourself. Being a hitman is tough, nothing new under the sun, but being the leader of the team is even worse. It's hard to watch out for others when he also must make sure that everything is working out smoothly. But he cares about you and your safety so damn much it's almost dangerous. So seeing you handle enemies alone helps him fall asleep at night with fewer worries. Also, watching you fight and come up with strategies makes him smile slightly and so subtly that of course, no one can notice it.

- How you look dressed in black with silver accessories. Aesthetically wise, black is one of his favorite colors and no one can tell otherwise. When you decide to match him with a dark outfit, his gaze will follow you more than usual. Be sure of the fact that he'll use his Stand, Metallica, to give you subtle signals, or not so subtle, by pulling onto your belt or necklace.

(it's loving Risotto hours)

Prosciutto

- How you calm yourself down after an intense moment. Prosciutto himself is not proud of when he snaps at people, thinking that it's not graceful behavior so he starts studying you from afar while calming down. He analyzes your soft tone, your calm face but alert eyes after being harsh, to learn from you but he finds himself falling for it. Like his brother, he also craves a bit of softness in his life but will never admit it, not even to himself so seeing you simmer down and transform into someone calm and understanding makes him want your presence more.

- How you counter him when he is too cruel to his brother. He is harsh with Pesci and he knows it, but he thinks it's only for good. It's not about how you're stubborn enough to argue with him but about how it reminds him that if something ever goes wrong with him on a mission, someone else will make sure that his brother is still alright and progressing. Also, as you two are arguing, things get pretty heated in no time and as the distance between you closes in, everyone knows that it's better to leave you two alone.

- How focused you look when deciding on an outfit. That and how you ask him for an opinion. You can see him leaning back in an armchair just looking at you searching through your clothes with an amused but admirative look on his face. Prosciutto likes to make himself look presentable and if you do the same, he can't help but find that fact attractive. Plus he can play dress up with you without you even suspecting it and he can't get enough of it.

(why is he like that? Love him though)

Ghiaccio

- How you let yourself be angry sometimes. To him, almost anyone seems calmer than him, but seeing someone being as furious as him from time to time and that someone being you? That's new. It doesn't happen often and in some odd way, he finds it fascinating. As much as he enjoys teasing you, he'll never be the type to say "Just calm down" or "You're exaggerating" because he knows how much it enrages someone already angry to hear this. He will be very understanding when you're like that. Plus, if someone or something gets you angry, he gets angry too so it will end up with the two of you being a scary couple.

- How your eyes shine when you smile and your smile in general. He is baffled by how when your lips are curved into a smile, your eyes are radiant too. Usually, he uses this expressiveness of yours against you, teasing you about it but when you smile so warmly, he feels like he's looking at the sun and that's unnerving because it makes him blush. He can't understand it.

- How your nose scrunches when you get a brain freeze from consuming something cold. This along with how your cheeks and nose redden when you're cold. He rolls his eyes at himself for like such a shallow and obvious thing but can't help it. It's not how adorable you look it's more how no one notices such details but him. It's his guilty pleasure. He has a kink when it comes to your reactions to cold temperatures.

(ugh I love him so much it's pathetic)

Pesci

- How you encourage him randomly sometimes. Pesci's already having a hard time adjusting to hitman life and constantly being scolded by his brother. At first, when you encourage him, he's stunned, flustered, embarrassed even but in time he starts to feel so much better overall because of it. His stress goes down and he gets more confident and sure of his actions because of your praise.

- How you're kind to the innocent - animals, kids, etc. Since he followed his brother and joined the team, the shock from seeing so much violence in his life all of a sudden left a mark on him. When he notices you being soft to the innocent and helpless while still being a hitman, he starts to heal. His only wish is for you to keep this side of yours so he can keep his too.

- How peaceful you look while sleeping. Again, being in an Italian hitman team is not easy, it distorted any perspective on peacefulness he had before. Seeing you rest without a frown on your face reminds him that there still is peacefulness in this way of living.

Melone

- How you're intelligent enough but don't flaunt it. Sure, he likes good looks but that's not as important as intelligence, any type. Melone is a bit of a sapiosexual, he knows it. If you come up with smart questions during meetings, his attention is immediately on you from that point on until the end of the meeting. Also, if you're genuinely curious about how his stand, Baby Face, works, it only adds to your charm.

- How you pick up on his "di molto" catchphrase. Melone works a lot. I mean A LOT. Besides progenation, he's skilled at finding out hidden info about the target, too. But usually, he does it alone, no one accompanies him and sometimes he can't help but feel slightly ignored. So when you start spending enough time with him to start using his phrases, he starts to feel less alone.

- How you walk. Simple as that. He has been caught many times staring at how some people walk, it's a well-known fact. So if you walk a bit slower and move your hips a bit more intentionally, making it look natural, he's dead. To hell with the mission for a few moments of pure admiration.

Illuso

- How confident you are. You don't need him to hype you up and he won't, but you'll always catch him looking at you with a proud look on his face. However, not everyone can be confident all the time and Illuso knows it very well. When he finds you letting your guard down and looking disappointed with yourself, he'll act right away. He hates seeing you struggle with shallow insecurities as you are just so wonderful in his eyes...

- How you take time to relax. He always insists on you taking everything a bit more slowly, so when you finally do it, he's more than pleased. He likes to see your facial muscles loosen up, causing a relaxed expression. He wishes to see it more often and he wishes for you to prioritise taking care of yourself.

- How you study yourself in the mirror while getting ready. He will use his Stand's ability to enter that mirror's dimension just to look at you from that perspective. This applies to intimate moments as well, just a heads-up. However, his favorite moment to do that is when you're fixing your hair, there's something about it that he finds so damn attractive.

Formaggio

- How you focus on the mission at hand. That, and how serious you look while doing it. Don't get it wrong, he's also focused on the missions but he looks more laid-back, like a natural. He finds it funny and adorable how you look so stern and even suggest him to pay more attention.

- How you always mention Sorbet and Gelato after their death. Everyone knows that Risotto said to forget about it after the funeral to focus on getting back on track as fast as possible and avenging them afterward but to Formaggio, this never felt right. So when you mention a memory from time to time to everyone, his heart feels a little bit lighter.

- How you dance to your favorite songs. He thinks that the majority of members of La Squadra are too stiff and grim sometimes so catching you dancing around alone to your playlist makes him smile. For him, it's like a breath of fresh air. Expect him to join you.

[astarionfreak]

👀 18, Astarion x Gale 👀👀👀👀

Ahhhhh!!! Perfect suggestion 🧛🧙

18. "I'm not going to beg." "Oh, but you will."

Snippet for the smut ask game. | Previous answers here

Gale sat comfortably in a large, padded chair on the balcony. He sipped from an expensive glass of wine and flipped through the pages of his latest purchase — a book regarding lost secrets of the Underdark.

Astarion leaned agains the railing, enjoying the view of the night sky. The moon hung heavy on the horizon. It wasn’t the sun. But, when he glanced over at Gale, he was reminded that perhaps this life wasn’t so bad after all.

Gale looked up from his book and met Astarion’s eyes. “You’re staring again.”

“Yes.” Astarion pushed himself away from the railing and stepped closer to Gale.

“It’s distracting.” Gale shifted in the chair.

Astarion smiled and swiftly closed the distance between them. “I imagine it is, yes.”

“Well, stop it.” Gale looked back at the book, but his eyes weren’t moving. He wasn’t actually reading anything anymore.

Astarion took the opportunity to snatch the book out of Gale’s hands and snapped it shut. “Pay attention to me.”

Gale rolled his eyes. “I swear, sometimes you’re worse than Tara.”

“Only sometimes?” Astarion pouted. He placed a hand on each arm of the chair, effectively caging Gale beneath him.

“That isn’t the compliment you seem to believe it to be, Astarion.” Gale’s heartbeat quickened. He blushed.

Astarion had him right where he wanted him. “If you’re going to insult me, Gale. At least do it properly.”

“Very well. When you . . . finish . . . you make the most atrocious face.”

Astarion barked out a laugh. “You’re joking.” He studied Gale’s expression. Shit. He wasn’t joking. “I do not! Do I?”

“Yes, it’s sort of like . . .” Gale scrunched up his face in the most unattractive way.

“Hideous. I certainly do not look like that when I’m in the throes of passion. I would know.”

Gale nodded. “It’s the complete truth, unfortunately. I can show you, if you wish.”

“And how would you go about that? It’s not like I can just look in a mirror while I fuck you. Although . . .”

Gale managed to turn an even darker red. He cleared his throat nervously. “Let’s table that conversation for another night. I only meant I could conjure a duplicate.”

“Oh.” Astarion leaned back, releasing his grip on the arms of the chair. “I don’t . . . I haven’t seen this face in two hundred years. I didn’t think . . .”

Gale took Astarion’s hand in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Foolish of me to offer something so sobering when we were only joking. You need not make a decision tonight, of course. The offer is there whenever you’d like. If you’d like.”

Astarion nodded, eyes locking back onto Gale's. “Thank you, darling. I’ll give it some thought.”

“I did have an unrelated question,” Gale said. “I’m not sure if now is the best time.”

“Ask away.” Astarion pulled his hand out of Gale’s and waved it dismissively.

“Why haven’t you asked to drink my blood?”

Astarion tilted his head. “Why haven’t you offered?”

“I was waiting for you to ask,” Gale said.

“There’s your answer. I was waiting for you to offer.” Astarion’s eyes flicked to Gale’s neck, the steady pulse that hummed just beneath his skin. His scent had changed since the orb was removed. He was certainly more alluring. But Astarion hadn’t pressed him on the matter. Their relationship was tenuous enough at times. “But, since you brought it up. Would you like me to bite you, Gale?”

Gale shrugged. “I suppose I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little curious about the experience. I have read some truly fascinating — ”

Astarion leaned forward, hushing Gale with a kiss. Gale sighed into Astarion’s mouth, quickly relaxing as their lips glided smoothly against each other.

“Tell me later about what you’ve read, darling. For now, just do me a favor and get in the damn bed.” Astarion’s lips brushed against Gale’s as he spoke, he could feel Gale smiling against his mouth.

“Your wish is my command,” Gale whispered.

Within moments they were both in the bed they shared. Gale on his back, Astarion stretched out on top of him. Most of their clothes had been discarded on the way to the bedroom.

Astarion nestled his face into the curve of Gale’s neck, lips ghosting across his soft skin. He teased the tender flesh with his fangs, but did not yet sink them in.

“You want this as much as I do,” Astarion whispered.

Gale sighed softly. “What is it that gives you that impression?”

“Your heartbeat quickens when my teeth are on your skin. I can smell your desire. And, well, feel it.” Astarion slipped a hand between Gale’s legs, palming his half-hard length over the fabric of his underwear.

Gale choked back a moan. “It’s true. There is something — exciting about surrendering myself to you in that way.”

“As if I don’t already have you wrapped around my fingers,” Astarion teased.

Gale laughed and tilted his head, giving Astarion more access to his neck. “I allow you to believe that. You’re the one —”

Astarion reached beneath Gale’s underwear, curled his fingers around his cock, and squeezed gently. “What was that? I couldn’t hear anything after you started whimpering.”

“Astarion,” Gale gasped. “I thought we were here so you could feed.”

“Oh, we’ll get to that, darling. Don’t worry. I just want to hear you beg so sweetly before I sink my teeth into your pretty little neck,” Astarion purred.

“Bite me if you wish. I’m not going to beg,” Gale said.

Astarion began to slowly stroke Gale’s cock. “Oh, but you will.”

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

Hello! If you don't mind, this is half a vent and half an ask both to you and to your followers who have had some experience?

I feel like I want certain aspects of a romantic relationship, the idea of having someone "special" is very appealing. Especially since I find myself falling in the trap of romance tropes, and I really do feel that I want to find that one person who I'd feel safe being physically close with, and not just because I turn my brain off to suffer through it but to actually enjoy it.

I know that I'm rather attracted to men, in theory at least, but whenever there's even remotely a thought in my brain that a polite conversation may turn into something more I get nervous, kinda in a bad way. I feel like I want to put a barrier in and I'm afraid they'll be reading into my behaviour too much. It makes me feel as if I like to play pretend in my head but I'm too much of a coward when real life gets involved.

I've been identifying as ace for years now, and I just turned 24. No experience in the dating department, I've been slowly making my way to accepting being at least arospec as well, possibly just aro, but for some reason it's been so much harder for me. Asexuality just clicked. This I think I may be fighting because the idea of a relationship seems too nice to give up and I've already had a bad experience with an extremely undernegotiated QPR (ended quickly but left a bitter taste nevertheless).

I just wish I could not think about it? But I also feel like the societal expectations of romantic attraction are much more pressing than sexual one. I don't want to lead anyone on, and I don't want to feel this little bit of dread whenever I have a conversation with a guy who I know doesn't have a girlfriend. That's another sign of being aro, right? Being able to be comfortable only when the possibility of the other party wanting you romantically is non-existent.

Sorry for this being so long. Thank you for listening, either way.

Romance definitely has a hard to explain quality to it, and I think that can make it questioning if you're aro especially tricky. It is possible that anxiety you're feeling when a situation could turn romantic is a form of repulsion. It's not uncommon for romance repulsion to feel more like anxiety or nervousness, and for people feel like wanting to go and hide. Alloromantic people can be nervous too sometimes, but it usually comes with a feeling of anticipation and still being drawn to the other person. Or they will usually have either trouble with anxiety in other areas, or issues with romance (romance related trauma for example). Sometimes it can be tricky to know exactly what it is, but if the stuff below doesn't sound like you at all, than repulsion is a likely explanation.

The other thing I would point is that fully alloromantic people often have people in real life they are experience a romantic pull towards, who they really want to be in a romantic relationship with. And if you're not experiencing that, that could also be a strong sign of being aromantic.

Being aromantic, and even romance repulsed, if you are, does not mean you can't have a very important person in your life. I know you mentioned a QPR that didn't go well, and it's up to you if that's something you ever want to try again, but even if you don't. remember that deep bonds can come in all forms of relationships. All types of relationships, including friendships, familial relationships, etc. have the potential to be very special of very deep if you end up connecting to someone in the right way. So whatever path you choose to take, don't feel like this isn't possible.

I'll throw this out followers too if anyone wants to share their own thoughts or advice.

All the best, Anon! Good luck!

[honeypleasejustkillme]

it’s sad how with bpd even when i’m feeling good i can’t enjoy it in the moment because i know it won’t last for much longer..

[crescentfool]

does anyone else want to stick these two in the same room together or is that just me... i simply think they are adjacent in vibes... (+a bonus thing???)

get u a fictional guy that makes you feel like this... seeing these guys just evoke a Similar Kind of Brain Chemical and Response. Help Me.

also have bonus yosuke doodle featuring the same brushes used here...! from january 23rd, lol.

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

oughh......