#i have taken art drugs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamcubed · 20 days

Text

you need to calm down | theodore nott x reader

song; you need to calm down [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x fem!muggle-born!reader genre; e2l, smut, angst word count; 5,9k timeline; subsidiary 8th year warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption, implied drug consumption, hook-up, drunk sex, piv, oral sex (male and female receiving), discrimination (muggle-borns), smoking, violence, blood, mentions of the war, arguments, yelling summary; after returning to hogwarts for a subsidiary 8th year to make up for the loss of 7th year due to the war, you are a completely different person, and muggle-born-hating theo finds himself obsessed with you

masterlist

"stressing and obsessing about somebody else is no fun."

MINORS DNI!!! 18+ content.

————————————————

In the time that the Second Wizarding War had been going on, you had been absent from Hogwarts, attending a muggle school under a fake name. Also in that time, you had changed significantly, partially to help your cover, but also because you had made muggle friends with similar styles and decided that you loved it. There were no uniforms at muggle college, so you were able to explore. These days you loved having black hair, having both your septum and nose pierced, and dressing almost entirely in black.

Your witch friends hadn't recognised you when you showed up at the Summer party you had received an invite to, after Voldemort was defeated and you were able to come out of hiding. The party you were attending was for seventh and eighth years— eighth year being introduced as a subsidiary for the education lost last year. Even most of those who had attended seventh year elected to return, as the final exams had never taken place, and what they had learned had been heavily rooted in the dark arts.

The party was booming, the walls of the massive house shaking with the sound of the music. You had consumed your fair share of alcohol, amongst other things, and had enjoyed catching up with everyone you had missed so dearly.

And that was when you saw him watching you.

Theodore Nott, a Slytherin boy in your year, who was from a wealthy pure-blooded family. A cigarette hung from his lips, and the smoke billowing around him sent a shiver up your spine. He was a sexy man, personality aside, and intoxicated you conveniently forgot about his attitude towards muggle-borns. Fuck, maybe he had changed?

He started approaching you, eyes raking up and down your accentuated figure, and he lingered a while on your fishnets. When he was close enough to talk, he said a simple statement, "I've never seen you before."

Theodore Nott hadn't changed. Not one bit. While he had never wished death upon muggle-borns like Voldemort, he had despised them— viewed them as lesser than he. He had seen you, laughing with your friends and seductively moving your hips, and assumed you were from the year below. You knew in that moment that he didn't recognise muggle-born goody-two-shoes Y/N L/N.

But, you were too drunk to ignore the red flags.

"No?" you murmured, "What are your first thoughts?"

He smirked, "I think I'm in for a very interesting night."

You chuckled, "I'll say."

His hands found your hips, and he began swaying with you to the music, which made you move your body closer to his. Even in the warmth of the room, the heat of his body hit you like an electric spark, coursing through you— straight to your core.

He moved even closer, his hot breath fanning against your neck as his hands moved round to your back. Then he lifted his head, his lips close to yours, and you let your eyes flutter shut as the kiss began. It was passionate: a hazy, powerful passion that had every hair on your body standing on end. His hands lowered to your ass, and squeezed, bringing a gasp from your lips, which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

All of a sudden, he pulled away, only to whisper in your ear, "Wanna find somewhere more private?"

"Lead the way," you said breathlessly, and he took your hand in his.

Neither of you knew whose bedroom you had ended up in, but it was empty and had a lock on the door, so it was ideal. Sure, a little unlocking charm could get someone in, but hopefully they would realise what was going on inside if the door was locked.

Theo wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours again, pushing you back until you fell on to the bed, pulling him with you. He moved down to your neck, kissing and sucking in a manner that would definitely leave hickeys, before he returned to your lips. You tugged at his shirt, and he let you pull it over his head, revealing a toned chest and arms that had you drooling.

He smirked at your loss of composure and beckoned towards your shirt, "Your turn, miss."

This time, you smirked, and held up your arms to allow him to remove your upper body clothing. First your tight black mesh top, and then your bra, freeing your boobs for him to gaze at. "Look who's drooling now."

Your statement made him snap out of his shock: clearly the sight of your nipple piercings had been a new experience for him. He attacked your lips with a new fervour, then moved down to suck on your nipple and its barbell. Gasps escaped you at the sensation, and you arched your back up instinctively.

"You're so sexy," he stopped for breath, complimenting you, "How have I never seen you before?"

Your breath hitched, and for a moment the reality of the situation came back to you. Just as quickly, though, it left again, as he began work on your other nipple. It was a wonderful feeling, but you needed more, so you pushed him over until you were on top and began unbuckling his trousers.

His dick was big and thick, and you could tell by the glint in his eyes as he looked down at you that he knew and was proud. You shook your head, bringing your lips to the tip and pressing a gentle kiss. Your teasing didn't last for long, however, as you soon gave into the urge to take it into your mouth. He groaned deliciously in response, and you took that as your cue to lick a strip up the side as you began fondling his balls.

"Just like that, baby," he moaned, making you realise he hadn't even asked for your name.

You took him in your mouth again, this time going as far down as your throat would allow, feeling the urge to gag building up in you. His louder groans made the effort worth it, though, as you deepthroated him. Pulling away for breath, you looked up at him with doe eyes and said, "If I'm sucking your dick, you might as well eat me out." And with that, you pulled your tights and panties down, leaving only your skirt on, before sitting on his face assertively.

The action made him groan more, and you leaned down to continue work on his dick as you felt him find your clit almost immediately. His tongue ministrations had you moaning around his dick, making you begin grinding on his face out of reflex. If you weren't drunk, you wouldn't be nearly this shameless and forward.

To his credit, he ate you out like a man starved, and it wasn't long before the pleasure became so much you had to give up on his dick and give in to the sensation.

"Fuck, Theo, I'm gonna come," you moaned, and his movements only got quicker, until you felt your core tighten and then release. Your body convulsed as he rode you through the high.

Eventually, you got off his face.

"D'you have condoms?" you asked, knowing he hadn't yet finished and also that you weren't yet satisfied.

"Always." He reached for his trousers over the side of the bed and pulled a condom out of his wallet.

You took it from him, tearing the packet with your teeth whilst making eye contact, and carefully sheathing his dick. His breath hitched once you were done: the only warning you got before he got up and pushed you down on to all fours, lining himself up behind you. The push in wasn't difficult, since you were quite well prepared, but it was still sensationally tight for him.

"Fuck, baby," he grunted, pushing in the last couple inches, "You feel so fuckin' good. So wet for me."

In reply, you moaned, and he took that as his cue to begin moving.

He pushed up your skirt to slap your ass, leaving a red imprint on your cheek, before gripping your hips and picking up the pace. You became a mess beneath him, even more so when one of his hands snuck around to begin rubbing circles on your clit. The bedsheets were crumpled in your hands with how tight you were gripping them, but Theo didn't stop.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna-" he cut himself off with a grunt.

"Me too," you squeaked out.

"Come with me." The assertive way in which he said it had you falling apart yet again, and by the way his movements were becoming sloppy, you could guess that he was too. When he then collapsed next to you, you knew that your guess had been correct.

Turning to lay on your back, you let out a content sigh.

"You know my name," he said.

You chuckled breathlessly.

"Who are you?"

You shrugged, deciding that you had given yourself enough time to regain your composure and getting up off the bed to clothe yourself. "You'll see," you said as you pulled your final clothing item back on.

And, with that concluding comment, you left Theo speechless on a random bed of the host's house.

***

You told no one of that night, deciding that you didn't need to hear your friends say what a stupid idea it was for you as a muggle-born to fuck a pure-blood supremacist. You already knew that yourself, but that didn't stop you from dreaming about how his tongue felt against your pussy, or how his hands felt on your body. Merlin, it was the best sex that you had ever had, and it just had to be with someone who would never want you again after finding out the truth.

It was on the train to Hogwarts that you saw him next. Despite how excited you were to return to the castle after over a year, the anxiety of your next meeting with Theo had been consuming you. And, in a lit up train in your classic school uniform, you were a lot more recognisable than in the dark in your own clothes. Especially considering you were with your friend group.

You stared at him as he stood in the doorway of you and your friends' compartment, with Mattheo Riddle and Lorenzo Berkshire stood behind him. They were likely on the hunt for some younger years to belittle.

"Well, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes has certainly changed a lot, hasn't she?" Riddle chuckled from behind Theo, who was simply staring at you with widened eyes and a clenched jaw.

"Theo? Mate? You alright?" Berkshire asked, snapping his friend out of his daze.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," he said dismissively, "Let's go."

His friends appeared confused, but didn't question it.

Your friends, however, did.

"What the fuck was up with that?" your best friend, Elena, asked, "Is the man scared of a couple piercings or something?"

She didn't even know what she was saying when she said that, you thought to yourself, thinking back to his reaction to your nipple piercings. You simply shrugged at her, "He just hates to see a muggle-born succeed."

Everyone agreed with hums, and the conversation shifted to other subjects.

***

Theodore Nott had spent the last two weeks of Summer wondering what the fuck the mysterious girl he fucked at a party meant by, "You'll see," and then following that up with a wank using memories of you. But, in that moment, stood in front of you on the Hogwarts Express, where you were in better lighting and more recognisable attire, he felt the world crash down around him.

How had he fucked a mudblood? The one thing that was ingrained into his brain since childhood to never do? Ever? The worst part is, he hadn't just liked the sex, he had loved it. He had already had numerous wet dreams about your lips and your boobs and your ass. And now? Now he had to push all of that aside because he couldn't ever fuck you again.

He just couldn't.

"Theo- Earth to Theo," the voice of Lorenzo next to him brought him from his thoughts.

"What?" he snapped back.

"What's got you so worked up?"

Mattheo chuckled, "Can't you see him staring at mudblood L/N? I can't tell if you wanna kill her or fuck her."

That statement earned Mattheo a glare from Theo.

"Maybe both?" Lorenzo suggested, making them both laugh.

"Who was it again that you hooked up with at the party?" Mattheo asked before shovelling food into his mouth.

"He didn't say, remember? Said she never told him her name."

"It doesn't matter," Theo spat.

Lorenzo and Mattheo exchanged looks as realisation dawned on them, and they both slowly turned to Theo who was still glaring daggers in your direction.

"No, you didn't..." Mattheo said first.

Theo said nothing.

"You fucked a mudblood," Lorenzo stated, finishing Mattheo's thought.

"You didn't realise it was L/N," Mattheo continued.

"She'd changed a lot, okay?" Theo said angrily, "I thought she was from the year below or something."

His two friends began howling with laughter, meanwhile Theo sat brooding in silence at the Slytherin table.

***

Saturday rolled around, and you were relieved to be able to shed the school uniform and tug on your clothes that had become an important part of you. Thankfully, Hogwarts hadn't been too strict about your piercings, in fact you had even received compliments from some professors. But, honestly, the rules weren't all that strict since it was still a sensitive time with many grieving from the war.

The Summer weather was still lingering, and you basked in the sunlight as you walked down one of the open hallways, watching first years giggling amongst themselves as they played with their new magic skills. It brought a smile to your face, to see things returning to normal; you had missed Hogwarts dearly while you had been away, not knowing how long you would have to remain in hiding. You had even begun applications for muggle university— because, really, how could you have known whether it would be one year or ten before you could freely be a witch again?

You turned a corner, and in your drifted thoughts, didn't notice the person walking around the other way until it was too late and your shoulders had shoved against each other.

"Shit, sorry," you muttered, realising all too late that it was Theo. He was glaring at you, just like he had at every meal and every class you shared all week.

"Watch where you're going, mudblood," he snapped.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled, "Wasn't a problem three weeks ago."

"Never speak of that," he said lowly, his voice threatening.

"Why? Annoyed sex with a mudblood was good?" you retorted, and then you found yourself pinned up against the wall.

"Watch your mouth, miss."

"Don't you mean 'baby'?" you smirked, relishing in the way his eyes darkened.

You almost missed the way his gaze flicked to your lips, but then he pulled away, refusing to look at you.

"Fuck you, L/N," he spat, storming off, and you watched in amusement with your back still against the wall.

***

Theodore Nott was livid. Absolutely livid. You wound him up in the worst way possible, only for him to try and scare you- fail- and then find himself wanting nothing more than to smash his lips on to yours. When you reminded him of the pet name he used while you were fucking, the blood in his body rushed straight to his dick: the feeling of his arms gripping yours and the close proximity had felt electric. Your very presence set him on fire in every single way possible.

He hated every second.

With previous hook-ups, he had hooked up a few more times with them until he had gotten bored and moved on to the next. Before he found out who you were, he had been planning on doing the same, and now the fact he couldn't was driving him crazy. He thought about you every minute of the day, every minute of the night, and- unfortunately- whenever his hand was wrapped around his dick. And, after his interaction with you in the hallway, he knew that he needed a good fuck from at least a half-blood, if not a pure-blood.

Yes, that was all it was, his body was desperate for sex and as you were the last person he fucked, his thoughts simply went to you first. That was all it was.

Definitely.

***

Potions lesson on Monday rolled around quicker than you would have liked, but it wasn't all bad, as Slughorn was a nice enough professor. You sequestered yourself next to your best friend, ready to begin the lesson. He had promised you all your first practical lesson today, and you were excited to use a cauldron again after so long.

The only real downside of the class was that Theo was in it, and he seemed even angrier (if that was possible) than he was last week. His eyes were pinned on to you like you had murdered his family. You shrugged it off, setting up the work station while Elena went to fetch the various ingredients that you required.

Meanwhile, Theo sat across the class from you, feeling incredibly frustrated. Saturday night, he had tried to fuck another girl, but he couldn't get himself hard until he imagined that she was you. And, even then, he couldn't finish. His imagination couldn't go as far as making her feel and act like you, after all. Now, all he knew, was that you were his enemy, and his remedy. And you had the audacity to act so calm and unbothered all the fucking time.

"Your obsession isn't healthy," Mattheo spoke from next to him, dumping the potion ingredients on the table.

"It's not an obsession."

"What is it, then?" his friend scoffed, "Love?"

Theo furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Mattheo watched as Theo rose to his feet and began haphazardly chopping ingredients, the tiny knife taking the brunt of his anger.

"If it's affecting you so bad, just fuck her again."

"She's mudblood."

"It's not like you're impregnating her," Mattheo reasoned.

Theo sighed deeply, "It's not that simple. I've had it trained into me since birth that we don't associate with mudbloods."

"Well," Mattheo shifted on his feet, "Parents aren't always right."

"Since when did you sympathise with them?"

"I don't- I just," Mattheo muttered something inaudible to himself, and then said, "I don't want people to think I'm my father."

Theo said nothing.

"I'm just saying, mate, your mother's dead and your father's in prison for life— who gives a fuck what they think?"

"It's the principle."

"What even is the principle?"

"What would Draco think? Lorenzo? All of our friends?"

"Draco's not the man he was before the war," Mattheo said quietly. He knew better than anyone, being Draco's cousin, he had grown up with him due to his parents' absence. "I'm just saying. Maybe we should leave some beliefs in the past."

"You've gotten soft," Theo grumbled, "Just last week you were shitting on me for fucking her."

Mattheo shrugged, "Force of habit, I guess. I've just been doing a lot of thinking lately."

"That's rare."

"Shut up."

***

Truth was, despite all of Theo's dick behaviour and discrimination of your kind, you still found yourself waking up in a sweat thinking about his hands roaming your body. That goddamned Slytherin was the bane of your existence and the reason for your catharsis. He had diseased you, plagued you. He was a parasite that you couldn't get rid of, that was eating away at your sanity. What happened to your self respect? To your pride? You got fucked into heaven, that's what. And now your sexual urges were spreading like fire all throughout your bloodstream.

Wanking didn't feel the same anymore— your fingers didn't hold the electricity and passion that Theo's did. You craved him like a drug: and that's exactly what he was. He was something you shouldn't do, something that was bad for your health, but something that could have you seeing stars. Why did he have to be a blood supremacist?

But would it feel this intense if he wasn't? Maybe you two being forbidden, being star-crossed, was the reason that it made you feel so alive. You loved the fact he stared at you, even if it was with fury so powerful it made his whole body shake. It made you feel as if you had gotten to him the way he had gotten to you.

Just one taste of heaven had left you wanting to experience it a thousand times over.

"Get your shit together, Y/N," you cursed to yourself, forcing yourself out of bed.

"What was that?" one of your dorm mates asked.

"Nothing," you replied, "Just going crazy."

"Aren't we all?" she agreed.

***

"Party in the Slytherin dungeons tonight," Pansy stated to you one hellish week later.

You blinked at her, "And I'm invited?"

The girl nodded, evidently feeling awkward, "A lot of us are trying to- uh- make amends with mud- muggle-borns."

You raised an eyebrow at her near slip-up.

"Look- I'm- I'm sorry for how I treated you in the past," she said, actually appearing genuine, "It wasn't right."

"Um, thank you," you replied hesitantly.

"I know I don't speak for all the Slytherins, but a lot of us have done some thinking over the Summer," she continued, "We've lived in an echo chamber for too long."

That you agreed with.

"And, honestly, I think you're really cool- and I hope we can be friends."

You were taken aback by her words, never imagining that a pure-blood like Pansy Parkinson would be saying such words to you. But, maybe, forgiving her wouldn't be such a bad thing. "I... forgive you, I think," you said slowly, "I hope we can be friends too."

She gave you a small but warm smile, "Thank you. Will I see you there?"

You nodded cautiously, "Yeah, I think so."

"Great, uh, come say hi when you get there."

And with that, she disappeared, leaving you in a state of shock and confusion.

***

"Why are there so many mudbloods here?" Lorenzo asked irritatedly, sitting down on the sofa next to his friend group.

"Be civil, Enzo," Pansy gently scolded, "They're witches and wizards just like us."

"But they're not, though. Right, Matt?"

Mattheo shrugged slightly, "I'm with Pansy on this one, I think."

"See, Enzo? Even the Dark Lord's son agrees with me."

Mattheo grimaced at being reminded of who his father was.

"What about you, Theo?" Lorenzo asked.

But Theo wasn't listening, too busy glaring at you with his jaw clenched as you entered the common room, dressed up in an annoyingly similar way that you were back at the Summer party. Lorenzo followed his gaze, but he already knew where it would be leading to.

"Theo is not the person to ask," Blaise chuckled, appearing out of nowhere and sitting next to Theo, "I reckon he's about two interactions with L/N away from saying 'fuck it' and accepting his fate."

"What fate?" Theo snapped.

"The fate of falling in love with a muggle-born," Pansy said with a giggle.

"I'm not falling for her."

"Yeah, you just think and talk about her all the time," Draco, who had been quiet the whole time, spoke.

"Do you not have a problem with it?" Lorenzo asked Draco.

The blond boy shrugged, "I have a lot of regrets regarding muggle-borns. I don't want anymore."

Lorenzo groaned.

"Times are changing, Enzo," Pansy said gently, "I think you should change with them."

The man scowled and stormed off.

Meanwhile, you had finally spotted Pansy across the room, surrounded by the Slytherin boys— including Theo. You took a deep breath, deciding for the sake of a potential friendship you would have to bear it and fulfil her request of saying hi. You arrived at their group moments after you had seen Berkshire leave angrily.

"Uh, hi," you said to Pansy.

"Hi," her face lit up, "Have you got a drink? I'll get you one."

"Oh, thank you."

"It's no worries— make yourself comfortable," she then turned to the boys, "Play nice."

Mattheo raised his hands in mock surrender, but all Theo did was keep his eyes glued on to you.

Zabini shifted along the sofa, gesturing for you to sit in between him and Theo, which you cautiously accepted. The second you felt the warmth of Theo's thigh brush against yours, sparks jolted through your body, and you nearly jumped. You could have sworn you heard his breath hitch, too. This was the first time in two weeks that he wasn't looking at you, instead his eyes were trained ahead like he was retaining every ounce of self control within him.

"The sexual tension is suffocating," Mattheo remarked, standing up to go after Pansy.

His statement seemed to fuel the flame that you had desperately been trying to keep dim inside of you, and suddenly staying sat next to Theo seemed like an entirely impossible task. You were not nearly drunk enough for this. Thankfully, Pansy returned quickly with Mattheo lingering behind her, and she handed you a glass.

"Firewhiskey and coke," she said simply.

"Thanks," you accepted the glass, and downed the entire thing, "I'll get another one."

You left them all, hearing Pansy scold Theo for scaring you off, but you could still feel his eyes burning holes into your back. Just a couple more drinks and then you would join the dance floor, you decided.

And there you soon were, grinding up against a Hufflepuff boy with liquid courage flooding through your veins. You had just about managed to push Theodore Nott to the back of your mind, but you knew that it was only a temporary fix. This Hufflepuff boy was attractive, but he didn't set you alight.

"Someone's jealous," Blaise chuckled, watching as Theo glared daggers at the boy you were dancing with. Ever since you had joined the dance floor, he had been necking back drinks like his soul depended on it, and it just might. With every gulp, he was feeling more reckless and dangerous. "Accept it, mate, you're in deep."

Theo let out a sound that bordered on a growl.

"The only thing stopping you is yourself."

And as Blaise's words sank in, and the Hufflepuff boy appeared to be going in to kiss you, something snapped within Theo. In a flash, he was on his feet and taking large purposeful strides in your direction. Then, the Hufflepuff boy was torn from your side and being punched directly on the nose with such a force he toppled over. He didn't even get a chance to fight back as Theo continued to hit him, merciless in his moves.

You stood in shock watching the scene unfold before you. After what felt like forever, Mattheo and Lorenzo showed up, pulling Theo off the poor boy who had done nothing wrong.

"What the fuck was that for?" the boy yelled, blood pouring down his face.

Theo said nothing, glaring at him as he finally stopped fighting his friends' grip.

"You need to calm down, mate," Mattheo said sternly, digging his fingers into his friend's bicep.

"Theo." You said, unaware what your intentions were when the name slipped out of your mouth. Regardless, his eyes snapped to yours, appearing to soften slightly as he observed your fearful stance.

What was stopping him, really? Did the purity of his bloodline really matter to him that much?

"I think you two need to talk," Mattheo said firmly, "And I think one of you in particular- not naming any names- needs to get over his own bullshit excuses and give into what he wants."

Theo's bloodied hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories. You didn't fight him, strangely feeling your fear slip away despite what you had just witnessed Theo be capable of. When you were stood in his empty dormitory, face to face, you knew that you would have to be the first to say something.

"You were jealous," you said it as delicately as you could.

He said nothing, not even looking at you. This made you angry— enraged, even.

"Fucking look at me, Theo!" you screamed, "You haven't had any difficulty with it all week— staring at me like I'm the shit on your fucking shoe!"

His eyes locked on to yours.

"If you regret fucking me, just say it!"

"I don't regret it," he said, his volume low but tone dangerous, "Everything I've been raised to believe wants me to regret it but I can't."

You stood, stunned at his confession.

"I need you like I need water, you're an itch I can't scratch," he was stepping closer to you, making you step back, "You make me feel fucking ecstasy and misery all at once."

Your back hit the wall, and he grabbed your wrist again, bringing it to press against his crotch.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" he said darkly, "I've never been so hard in my life."

You gulped, "I'm not just gonna be another of your bitches, Theo, so forget it." Even though you wanted it so bad, and you were dripping from your core.

"That's the thing, L/N," he chuckled sinisterly, "I don't think I could ever get enough. I don't think anyone else will be able to satiate me ever again."

You jaw dropped.

"I think..." he continued, "...that you're a drug I got addicted to after only one hit."

You closed your mouth, looking up at him expectantly.

"And I don't think I ever want to be sober from you."

"But, I'm a muggle-born-"

He cut you off by slamming his lips on to yours with such furious passion your mind became hazy as you eagerly returned the kiss, lifting up your arms to wrap them around your neck. For a moment, he pulled away, just to whisper, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't think I care. I think I just want you in every humanly possible way."

"Then have me," you murmured.

It became a blur as his lips crashed on to yours yet again, and he picked you up by your thighs with his blood stained hands, leaving imprints on your bare skin through your fishnets. He moved you over to his bed, kissing down your neck while he blindly reached for the hem of your top. He wasted no time in pulling it off, along with your bra, so he could continue kissing down your body.

You relished the sensation— savouring it— feeling like you were the only girl in the world. Theo was treating you with such roughness and yet such care, like he had tunnel vision for you and only you.

He pulled off his shirt, before moving down to pull down your skirt, fishnets, and panties all at once. You watched breathlessly as he dived into your leaking pussy and ate you out like a man starved. He groaned, murmuring, "I've missed this taste so fucking much," before continuing his ministrations, eliciting the filthiest moans from you that had ever been produced. This felt even better than the last time.

"You are my goddess," he licked up your pussy, "And my devil."

He began sucking on your clit, and your body felt as if it was lifting from the bed as your orgasm hit you like a shockwave, coursing through your body and sending you to places you had only brushed against before.

"Fuck, Theo," you moaned, "Please fuck me."

The man didn't need telling twice, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his trousers. He didn't waste any time going to his bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer, tearing it open and pulling it on in record speed. You would have helped him, but your orgasm had you borderline paralysed.

And, then, he was lining up in front of you— for the first time in his life, all he wanted was to fuck missionary. He wanted to see your face (and your nipple piercings that had him drooling) and he wanted to see your expressions as you came undone below him. To him, this was the most intimate that you could get in sex, and he only wanted that with you.

He groaned louder than he had ever groaned when he let himself push inside you, knowing that no other pussy would ever feel as magical as yours. Knowing that he should never have even considered depriving himself of this for some stupid blood purity reasons.

"Fuck, baby, you feel fucking amazing," he breathed out. You reached your arms up, gesturing for him to come down closer to you.

Theo obeyed, kissing you as he began thrusting, while his bloodied hands explored every inch of you, leaving a trail as they went.

"I'd rub your clit, but I don't want to get blood there," he said through heavy pants. You couldn't help but let out a small giggle, moving your own hand down to aid yourself along.

Your moans increased tenfold, as did his pace, and it wasn't long before he was biting down on to your neck in order to contain the groans that were fighting their way out of him. Who would have thought that such plain love making could make him feel so on top of the world?

"Theo- I'm gonna come," you choked out, and the way his teeth sank deeper told you that he was going to as well. As you both reached heaven in unity, he gave up suppressing his moans, and gave you the most melodious earful that you had ever heard as his movements became sloppy and tingles spread through your veins.

Eventually, he collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, stroking his hair gently as you lay in a post-sex haze.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, making your brain short circuit.

"You what?"

"I'm sorry for being a pretentious asshole."

A smile creeped on to your face, "So, is this just a sex thing, or...?"

"Fuck no," he snapped, "I need you all the time. You're mine."

"So, it's a girlfriend boyfriend thing?"

He froze, but then relaxed, and said into your neck, "Yeah, I guess it is."

"You guess?"

He sighed, "Well, you've ruined me for anyone else."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 07/04/2024 —> 08/04/2024 published; 10/04/2024 edited; —/—/——

726 notes · View notes

mondaymelon · 4 months

Text

₊⊹ 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 ❤︎ | yandere!xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

art by @/syaden8 on twt!!

⟢ cw: a failed escape attempt from them... yandere, dark themes, petnames, mutilation (xiao, scara), violence, drugging (scara) etc. please proceed with caution! thank you.

⟢ "your order's denial is causing me trial !"

"Ah."

XIAO's lips moved, and it was that single noise that escaped.

For your room lay barren, empty, cold, the harsh winter breeze drafting through the shattered window, the bars covering it having been forcibly bent aside. "It..." For a moment, his body swayed, his own legs unable to support his weight. Then, his balance stabilized, his once by a fraction wider eyes having narrowed. "It seems my songbird has escaped."

Unacceptable. The word repeated in his head, like a mantra, a prayer, resounding within his ears, despite the silence, despite the cold that bit at his skin as he trudged through the snow, his spear at his side. A tiny, devilish voice that tugged on his ears and whispered out tales of his sin.

"Found you."

"N-No- please-" His gaze sharpened in annoyance. Desperate, your voice hoarse and cracking by the syllable, hurling yourself forward one more step, just one more, your bloody, bare feet scraped and bruised. This wasn't right, how come you seemed so distressed?

No, you of course sounded better as his songbird, in a pristine little cage, singing for him, and only him, happy tunes of joy and pleasure.

"...And as a songbird can live with its wings clipped, surely you'll understand if I...?"

The shackles locked tight around your wrists, and your useless, wretched legs, bones shattered by a single blow.

It's an unfortunate predicament, but it's the only way. ❤︎

"Oh, so the chase is on?"

CHILDE shouldn't be laughing, but oh, he was.

It's a twisted sound, with the corners of his mouth distorted upwards in a haphazard smile, his eyes blown as a dark flush of red descended upon his cheeks. "So you've decided to play this little game of cat and mouse. Very well, if that's what you want, darling!"

You aren't making this difficult enough. His keen gaze spots all the traces you've left behind, broken branches, ruffled leaves, a torn piece of the clothing he had gifted you... it's all imbued with your essence, honey sweet on his lips.

Why would you even want to leave him?

It's that thought that makes him pause upon finding you, your trembling form sprawled across the bloodied snow as he stands over you, his own shadow casting you in darkness.

That's right, why would you? He's been nothing but loving. He's catered to your every need, has he not? He's bought this house for you, all the clothes you wear, the food you eat, the bed you sleep in... what right did you have to defy his affections, now that he had made them ever so clear?

If anything, it was insulting.

Oh, but did he truly feel insulted? After all, an offended person wouldn't have taken you like that, wouldn't have knocked you unconscious and wouldn't have carried the delicate you in his arms back to home.

Maybe a better description would be "longing." Longing for your praise, longing for your thanks, longing for the smiles you'd send his way... how come your eyes have faded, since then? It's strange, he's never seen you look so... determined before, not since today.

Ah, but what did it matter?

This puny escape attempt of yours... his tongue tasted bitter.

It wouldn't happen again. He'd make sure of it, so please, don't mind the chains, would you? ❤︎

"They... dare?"

SCARAMOUCHE's expression contorts to one of rage, his brows sharply angled downwards and his violet eyes wide, quivering.

Haha... what a fool he was. He should've been more attentive, how had he not noticed your strange movements? The way you gave him a forced smile everytime he returned home, the way you'd greet him at the door with the dinner you made, and he had finally thought you had accepted his confession all those weeks ago, he finally thought you had gotten used to and started liking your life here, finally thought-

And then he thought nothing at all as his body swayed and fell to the ground. The audacity, to go and dig through his things, to go, find, and use the very drug he had used to bring you home.

By the time he awoke, the house was but a cold expanse, barren of your warmth, and he clenched his fists so tightly, his nails kissed red crescents into his skin that weeped with every flex of his fingers.

"To pull such a parlor trick against me like this... ah, doll. Don't think you'll get away with this leniently."

When he found you, not "if", he'll make sure to reprimand you properly. If breaking your spirit wasn't enough, then he'd have to break your mind too. He's already decided that he'll reshape the pure thing with his own, dirtied hands, into something that will burn only for him.

Surely, a couple missing limbs, here and there, wouldn't obstruct that light, would it now? ❤︎

(a/n) as i said on my sideblog, something about writing for toxic mentally distressed emotionally broken and heavily reliant yandere characters who turn to violence to show their love is. just so. oddly... comforting?? was going to make this longer and then some shitty shit shit went down so. yay. tears.

if you enjoyed please consider following me or leaving a note on this post!! they are very appreciated, and i am very close to hitting a follower goal that i want to reach before the new years ! thank you.

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

815 notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 2 months

Text

Jester Stole His Thorny Crown

Chapter One

He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.

Mafia!Au

1.2K

Warnings: drugs (not taken), gun violence

Series Masterlist

This wasn't his job. It was beneath him, usually a job for his inexperienced little brother. But Arthur was at home, being looked after by their maman as he nursed a non-fatal gunshot wound.

Charles was pissed as he drove through the streets of Monaco. This was Arthur's job, not his. If he had listened to Charles and Lorenzo, and hadn't run in with guns (quite literally) blazing, they wouldn't be in this position.

The people of Monaco knew about the people who, essentially owned them. They had a royal family, but they didn't have as much Power as the Leclercs. As soon as they saw the black Ferrari SF90 Stradale, they knew to get out of the way.

On this day, the only thing stopping Charles from driving into everybody in his way was his love for his precious car. As soon as he had checked through the clubs, he was going to go to his mamans house and murder Arthur.

Charles parked his car. Well, parked is a term used loosely. He stopped the car wherever he wanted and every other driver on the roads of Monaco had to work around him. This was maybe one of the best demonstrations of power that the Leclerc family had.

When Charles walked into the first club, the twenty six year old was reminded of why he hated it so much. He had loved it when he was a fresh faced eighteen year old, receiving his first assignment from his father.

But now this was Arthurs job, appointed by Lorenzo. He had taken over as head of the family when they lost their father, just a year after Charles had received his first assignment.

The family didn't handle it well. The Leclerc's had almost started a full on war with the Gasly family of France. But Pascale, the matriarch, kept them in check.

The club was disgusting. It was the middle of the day so it was empty, aside from the club manager. The floor was covered in cups and bottles and odd sticky patches that that Charles was sure to avoid. There was the odd condom on the floor; Charles turned his nose up at that.

He checked the books, make sure the money was in order. He swapped out the cash in the safe for the drugs that the club sold. "Get this shithole cleaned up," he commanded the club manager and left.

The second club was much the same. He inspected the books and swapped the money in the safe for the drugs. This club was somehow dirtier than the first one. Several of the stall doors in the bathroom had been kicked in (Charles wasn't happy about leaving money for such things).

The third club Charles knew it be Arthurs favourite.

It wasn't a night club, more like a lounge. The lighting was low, with tables covering the floor. Comfortable, cosy booths lined the walls and the tables in the middle of the of the floor looked equally as comfortable. The art on the wall was tasteful and the air didn't stink like beer and piss.

Soft piano music greeted him and Charles realised why this was Arthurs favourite club. It felt legit.

Charles looked to the piano on the stage at the back of the club. There was a spotlight pointed towards it, illuminating the instrument and the girl playing it. As he approached, Charles watched her fingers dance across the keys. The tune was soft and melodic, not something that he recognised.

She seemed to be the only person in the club. "One second, Arthur!" She called, not looking up from her piano.

Charles stopped short. "I'm sorry?" He called and the piano music stopped. "Are you always familiar with my brother?"

Her eyes were wide as she stood and closed the lid of her grand piano. "Shit," she hissed, but Charles still heard it. "I'm so sorry, Mr Leclerc. I was expecting your brother."

Charles stepped onto the stage. His presence alone was terrifying, a far cry from Arthur, who treated the pianist like an old friend. She couldn't stop her knees from buckling as he approached. "He got shot," Charles said as he sat at the piano. "He'll be back in action soon."

He lifted the lid of the piano and pressed a key. As a boy Chalres had loved the piano. His father had encouraged him to play, but he hadn't touched a piano since Hervé dad passed. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to play more than a few notes.

"Are you the manager here?" Charles asked, again shutting the piano lid. She shook her head, eyes looked towards the bar while he continued to stare at her. "You shouldn't be in here, then."

She sucked in a breath. The gun in his waistband had become apparent the moment he sat at the piano. "Uhm, Arthur gave me a key so that I could come in and practice," she said as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Charles let out something of a controlled huff and stood from the piano. He headed past the stage, to where the office was, and instantly began searching through the desk for the books.

The pianist followed him. "You shouldn't be in here," he said and pulled out the papers he needed. She was still standing in the doorway as he checked through it. "Seriously, get out."

"I'm sorry," she said, still leaning against the door frame. "I just... is Arthur okay?"

Charles stared at her for a moment before nodding his head, but he didn't look happy. "A minor gunshot wound," he said. "He's sleeping on our mouths couch at the moment."

Letting out a relieved breath, she walked away from the back office, allowing Charles to swap the money in the safe for drugs.

When he returned to the main floor, the piano was empty. The lid was open, but the pianist wasn't there. Charles didn't check for where she was.

He sat himself at the piano and pressed three keys in a specific tune. It was all so familiar to him, flooding back to him. It had been so long, but it was natural. It was right.

The pianist, Y/N, was at the bar, getting herself a glass of water. The moment she saw Charles walk to the piano she stopped and watched.

He was hesitant at first, allowing himself to get used to the keys. But it didn't take very long for him to get comfortable. Soon enough he was playing like it was the only thing he knew today.

It wasn't perfect, it was barely good, but it was full of heart and soul. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him as he sped up slightly, getting more and more comfortable. There was nothing in the world but him and the music.

Finishing up the song Charles sucked in and rolled his shoulders. He looked around the club, looked at the empty tables, at the art on the wall and at the bar.

He narrowed his eyes as he stood up and walked over. "Were you watching me?" He demanded and she quickly shook her head, looking down at the glass of water in her hands.

"Don't," he barked and marched out of the club.

Permanent taglist: @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @minkyungseokie @formulaal @darleneslane @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris

429 notes · View notes

qingxin-dream · 9 months

Text

“The Afterparty”

summary | lyney is the face of fontaine’s entertainment industry, stealing hearts with every flourish of his magic. however, in the night, lyney tends to entertain a different kind of crowd.

warnings | written pre-4.0, ooc lyney, light yandere themes (stalking/manipulation/obsession), a sprinkle of smut (creampie/implied dubcon) [18+, MDNI], brief mention of drugs/alcohol, reader is neutral but wears a dress, lyney uses a little french

genre | yandere, slight smut

word count | 1.6k

pairing | lyney x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It’s no mystery that the Great Magician of Fontaine is a man of many talents. His shows are famous across Teyvat for their grandeur and flare. Beautiful venues draped in red curtains frame the scene before a sea of velvety theater seats, skilled acrobats maneuver themselves among rings suspended in the air. Blazes of fire erupt from the stage dramatically. A master of misdirection, the audience falls for his tricks every time as he effortlessly makes the impossible possible.

Lyney is incredibly perceptive. He knows how to read people, as a showman can read his audience, a small smug smile crinkling the corner of his eyes if you’re paying attention. It’s an art form—the way he flips through the pages of your soul, licking his fingers to reveal the next juicy detail with ease. Rarely ever does anyone truly surprise someone as cynical as him, who has been personally privy to the vile nature of the Fatui.

A life of fame is never kind to anyone. The planning and training for shows is incredibly rigorous. Executing the stunts in front of a live audience is equally thrilling and terrifying. Without fail, the crowd is mesmerized and the show ends in a shower of roses and marriage proposals. Rinse and repeat. Though, this is only what Lyney allows the public to know of him.

It’s after hours, when the theater is empty and the stage is dim, when the mask begins to slip.

Lyney is the lead, the star, and as such he maintains his appearance by rubbing elbows with the elite of Fontaine. You’d never catch him amid the nightlife of the city, no. You wouldn’t believe the sheer grandeur of the dazzling, flamboyant parties thrown every night at the country’s largest mansions.

It was Arlecchino who insisted that he attends these lavish parties, rampant with the city’s darkest vices between drugs, alcohol, and sex. But Lyney is a cynical man, so this much is to be expected of wealthy aristocrats.

It was all a façade, couldn’t they see? It sickened him, how gullible people were and how obsessed they were with status. Not to mention the inevitable hordes of women who threw themselves at him.

Nevertheless, Lyney played the game well and with a bewitching, handsome smile. Eventually he had learned to take pleasure in this little game.

As fate would have it, you let your friend convince you to crash one of these extravagant parties with them. You had heard whispers of what takes place at night behind the golden gates of Fontaine’s richest residences. Why wouldn’t you want to have a taste of the finest wine, dressed in designer, getting lost in the magnificent corridors of a packed mansion of partygoers?

It’s something straight from the movies.

You emerged from the bushes to sneak inside, which wasn’t that difficult surprisingly. You wore your best dress, not knowing what to expect. It was a floor length, silky black dress with a sexy slit that traveled all the way up to your mid-thigh. You had a lovely string of pearls dangling from your pretty neck. A classic choice.

Unfortunately for you, Lyney is a man who is extremely attentive to his surroundings. After all, an illusionist must be a master of his environment as well. The moment he spots you, a mere reflection of something new and fascinating for him to discover, he gravitates to you smoothly.

“Mm, I don’t believe we’ve met,” his voice is an alluring, a well-practiced approach. Before you could even answer, Lyney had already taken note of your little mannerisms and nuances just in these few passing moments. He had already adjusted the figurative mirrors of misdirection in this little trick, assuring your undivided attention.

You glance to your friend, who isn’t there. Oh. You had been cornered without even the opportunity to explore the party.

More of a wallflower type, you found yourself struggling to conjure up a confident answer. You were acutely aware of who this gentleman is, and his egotistical demeanor was already a huge turn off.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know who I am,” he chuckled lightheartedly, yet there was a peculiar undertone hidden beneath. It was hard to place. He kisses your hand. “Lyney, the Great Magician.”

You withdrew your hand, unable to hide the way your eyebrows crinkled together with disinterest. Perhaps you should’ve been more prepared for these guests to be more brazen and unapologetic when they see something—or someone—they want.

Taking no for an answer is not even in the realm of possibility for these people.

The party continued on, gorgeous partygoers dancing and drinking to their heart’s content. All the while, Lyney kept his eyes trained on you. It wasn’t necessarily out of admiration; rather, it was curiosity. Why didn’t you bat your eyelashes at him like a good girl? Bite your lip when he kissed your hand?

He followed you like a ghost, slinking through the crowd tactfully to observe you. You were a rare creature indeed. None of the other women could hold a candle to you. Archons, he felt this unsettling churning in his stomach everyone your glimmering irises met his. His heart would tense instantaneously, threatening to explode within his chest.

You saw through Lyney from the moment he kissed your hand, and he hated it.

Through the night, you both danced this delicate tango around the massive mansion, a palpable tension tethering him to you. He was equally appalled and fascinated by you, never wasting any opportunity to slip in an innocent question or two to learn about you.

“A beautiful lady like you in a place like this… Do you feel lost in Wonderland yet, Alice?” Lyney had persuaded you to follow him to an unoccupied balcony, closing the French doors behind him.

He stalks toward you, his soft lavender irises cool and calculated. In an ashy flourish of embers, a deck of onyx cards materialized in his gloved hands. It had taken all evening, but just enough wine had passed beyond your lips to give Lyney the opportunity to disarm you.

“Not scared of a little fire, are you, love?” His voice was warm and inviting as a hearth, though it held a hint of mischief like that of a crackling inferno. Each mysterious card in his hand is shuffled with a distinct flick.

You were much more susceptible to his charm now more than ever, allowing him to weave glittering silk strands of harmless sweet nothings to entice you. Had you taken a step back, you would’ve seen the web for what it is. The grand reveal was imminent.

“Now, now, don’t fret. I won’t let anything harm you, chérie,” Lyney chuckles lightheartedly, as if he hadn’t been playing and pawing at you like a cat ready to pounce all night.

Your poor little breath hitched at every whisper and touch he gifted you. It started by fatefully picking the Queen of Hearts from his custom deck of cards. You should’ve known better. Maybe you should’ve picked the one next to it. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.

Lyney’s lilac eyes spark with intrigue at your choice. How fitting. Had you paid any attention to the magician’s sneaky maneuvers, you would have seen that every card in the deck was from the suite of Hearts.

The illusion of choice.

He takes this as an opportunity to step closer, his hands reaching forward. Your chest is beating wildly, begging for relief from how he intoxicates you with just a flutter of his long lashes.

Lyney rests his hands on the marble railing on either side of your hips, drinking in your anticipation, your fear, and your desire. A small, smug smirk pulls at the corner of his pretty lips. He takes the liberty of helping you meet his gaze by bringing his wrist to his mouth, white teeth tugging to remove his glove. Your body feels weightless when he lifts your chin with his bare index finger and thumb.

The Great Magician would argue that he took extreme precautions to ensure the success of this escapade. It was all carefully calculated and orchestrated according to his whim. He had you exactly where he wanted you, blissfully unaware of how deep these exhilarating feelings for you had rooted themselves into his guarded heart.

“Do you feel the magic in my fingertips? Hehe, tonight’s show will be a private event for only for you, mon trésor.”

The night was a blur. Fading in and out of consciousness, one moment you were dancing with him in empty halls and the next you were enveloped in his embrace against a wall. Lyney would pin your hands above your head before pushing you onto the bed, catapulting you into his next breathtaking trick like one of the acrobats in his show.

The silhouettes of your frames were shadowed in the moonlight that bathed the sheets in silver. Lyney skillfully unzipped your dress. Clothes fell to the wayside, vanishing in a flourish of passion. There was no denying it. He had to have you, and you were such a willing participant in his performance.

Of course, the wealthy partygoers were none the wiser, the echoes of pleasure the Great Magician was able to rip from your lungs were easily deafened by the music of their own opulent fantasies.

What is a magician if not an artist who must mark what is rightfully his—painting your womb with a decadent display, a growl escaping his throat.

However, Lyney is a perfectionist. When he catches a glimpse of his seed spilling out of you, he is quick to stuff his slender fingers into your overstimulated hole and seal the masterpiece with a final kiss on your bruised lips.

“Magnifique…” ❤️

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist.

#[opulent dreams].✿#[dreams of delusion].✿#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin yandere #genshin smut #genshin lyney #lyney x reader #yandere lyney #lyney smut

2K notes · View notes

yandere-writer-momo · 3 months

Text

Yandere Baki Head Canons:

Struck By Cupid

Yandere Various Baki Men x Fem Fighter Reader

TW: Reverse Harem/ aged up AU, uncomfortable themes, yandere behavior, drugging, creepy love letters, stalking, Kiyosumi Katou, and non consensual touching (hugs and kisses)

You’re a female mma fighter who was personally invited by Tokugawa to fight in the tournament. A shame most of the competition has taken a little too much interest in you…

Jack Hanma

You became his acquaintance in the ring just like the others. At first he didn’t think much of you until you gave him some advice for strength and technique after you defeated him. He had never felt such warmth in his life. To not only be seen and acknowledged, but to receive praise and advice rather than insults for his loss. For the first time in a long time, he blushed.

Jack doesn’t like the way his heart pounded in his chest when he sees you or how his palms sweat. It’s so strange… he’s never felt like this before.

You’re very polite and you have a welcoming aura to you. People are automatically drawn to you since you look trustworthy and friendly. Even if you aren’t, people adore you. It honestly annoyed you, but you did your best to try to be nice to everyone (a huge mistake).

Jack insults you all the time. This man has no idea how to flirt so he’s extremely rude to you. He truly means well but he’s not a man of many words. His actions will show you his true feelings but you’re quite clueless on those matters since you’d rather focus on martial arts than a relationship of any kind

“Your hair is down today… it makes you look strange. (Your hair is different today, I like it).” Or “You look pale and malnourished. How are you so incapable of taking care of yourself? (Have you eaten today? Why are you not taking care of yourself properly?)”

“Your outfit is unflattering and inappropriate for this weather. (You look cold).”

Jack will throw his jacket or shirt over you if you shiver, but the garments usually reek of his sweat and musk (and the stench of urine). He acts unphased by your refusal to wear his clothes but it actually deeply upsets him. He’s trying, okay?

Jack is painfully awkward. It’s so sad for Baki to watch his brother try to woe you and you turn him down (since you don’t speak ‘Jack’ nor look past his nagging).

Baki is the one to tell him that he smells and Jack is mortified. No wonder you constantly turned down his clothes… Hygiene after training was never on his mind but he made sure to bathe more often and to no longer reek of sweat and incontinence. He now smelled of pine and musk, a scent you didn’t seem to mind as much.

Jack is even more insistent on you wearing his clothes since the colder season still isn’t over and you still turn him down from time to time. He’s just a bit too overbearing for your taste and extremely difficult to talk to (he’s terrifying)

Jack often inserts his awkward presence between you and the other fighters. In his eyes, he’s keeping you safe from those weirdos. In yours, he’s rudely interrupting conversations you’re trying to have. But in all actuality, he is protecting you. Jack has kept you safe and you’re completely unaware of just how dangerous the others are…

Jack just wished he was able to explain his muddled feelings for you. He’s never had a crush nor has he ever touched someone intimately, he was new to all of this. He just wanted you to understand him.

Jack will eventually tire of your rejection and may become more aggressive with his advances. Especially if you’re more receptive to other’s advances. What does Katsumi have that he doesn’t? Jack is much bigger than him in every way. Just look at him… please look at him. Pick him. Love him.

You’ll eventually be cornered by him once you’re finally alone.

His large arms wrapped around your smaller frame as he pulled you close to his body. You could feel Jack’s heart hammer in his chest, his nose buried into the top of your head. You shivered when Jack deeply inhaled your scent.

“Oh um… can I help you-“ Jack suddenly flipped you around. His cinnamon eyes were wild and his palms were covered in a light sheen of sweat. Was he okay? “Jack.. are you alright?”

“I don’t mind your presence.” Jack furrowed his brows and sighed in agitation. “I… I can’t explain how I feel with words.”

“What do you mean-“ you words were caught in your throat when he leaned down to your level, his hot breath mingled with yours. He then pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his entire body trembled like a leaf from the touch.

“I like you, no.” Jack shook his head. “I love you.”

You can’t even utter a word before he placed his hands on either side of your shoulders. His cinnamon eyes brewed a powerful storm of emotion behind him. He meant it, this rude man was madly in love with you. “So pick me. You don’t need anyone other than me in this world. Only I can keep you safe.”

Katsumi Orochi

Katsumi was frustrated with his loss at first. He couldn’t believe he lost to you, an individual who appeared out of literally nowhere. He’s trained most of his life! His entire life was karate and you easily defeated him like he was some sort of beginner!

Yet you didn’t boast to him when he laid in the bloody sand. No, you helped him up and gave him a smile so sweet, his teeth could rot. And you told him that if you hadn’t reacted fast enough, he probably would have defeated you.

“I think you’re really talented. I think you’ll go far in life with your work ethic!” How could someone openly admit that? Most opponents would gloat in his face and yet you didn’t. Your optimism and kindness made his heart flutter. Congratulations! You’re Katsumi’s first crush.

Katsumi invited you to train at Shinshinkai where you often interacted with him, the karatekas, and Retsu. He often found himself admiring you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, which caused him to be teased by the karatekas. Everyone in that dojo knew he had a crush on you… except you.

Katsumi is incredibly sweet. He often compliments you or asks you for a demonstration. Katsumi is eager to learn anything you’d love to teach him.

It’s when you express an interest in learning karate that truly sets his heart ablaze. He gives you a uniform and offered you private lessons. He truly didn’t want any teasing from his students. Plus the two of you could spar to your heart’s content.

But seeing you in a karate uniform really made his mind wander to filthy places. The way the uniform stuck to your sweaty body and how he could almost see into your shirt when you pinned him to the mat. It was entirely too much.

Katsumi will start to ask you out to eat after every training/ sparring session. And how could you ever turn down free food? Your clueless self had no idea that these were dates since the two do you were in casual wear as you explored the town for little treats.

The two of you got along swimmingly. Katsumi found you incredibly easy to talk to… your relationship with him reminded him of Doppo and Natsue’s which made him believe the two of you were romantically interested in one another.

Katsumi never got around to dating due to his devotion to karate. He was inexperienced in every aspect of love other than what he’s seen between his adoptive parents. And he knew that he loved you. Katsumi has never felt this way before in his entire life.

His cheeks flush cherry red when you wipe some crumbs off his face. His words shaky when you give him your utmost attention. Your eyes never left his as he spoke, which only made him all the more nervous. Katsumi believed you were made for him. You’re his soul mate. You were interested in martial arts too and you always made him feel important. Katsumi had to tell you how he felt… he didn’t want to lose his chance.

And it was even worse when he noticed that he wasn’t the only one who held a torch for you. It made him even more competitive to have your hand. Katsumi swore he would be the one to be your lover and eventually, your husband!

So Katsumi began to hog as much of your time as he could at the dojo. He’d ask for more demonstrations and even for your help with his kindergartner class. Katsumi constantly had to adjust his pants whenever you’d affectionately lend a hand to one of the kids. You looked so natural with them… would you want to have kids? Katsumi would love to be the one to father them if you did.

Katsumi’s mind often wandered to fatherhood and marriage with you. You’d look so perfect all plump and round… he had no doubt that your children would be prodigies in martial arts as well. Katsumi looked forward to those blissful, idyllic days. It was guaranteed if you married him!

A shame Katsumi failed to realize that you only saw him as a friend and nothing more…

You jumped when Katsumi’s hand held yours at the dinner table. Your brow quirked at his red cheeks as you slowly chewed your ramen.

“I have something to tell you…” Katsumi blushed while his hands gave yourselves a firm squeeze.

You give him a smile and swallow, your head tilted off to the side. “Of course, Katsumi. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Katsumi felt his heart flutter and his palms start to sweat a bit. He sucked in a deep breath and gave you the sweetest at you..

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.” Katsumi told you, his eyes searched yours for a reaction. His cheeks remained hot when you didn’t move away from the grip he had on your hand so he took the opportunity to run his thumb over the back of your hand. “Please… I need to know if you feel the same. My love for you keeps me up at night, I can’t help but imagine a life with you.”

You’re at a loss for words as you hesitatingly try to pull away from his grip. Sadly, Katsumi only held onto your hand tighter. “Oh Katsumi, I-“

Your eyes nearly blow out of your head when he pressed a hesitant kiss to your lips. A few tears fell down his face as one of his hands tenderly held your cheek.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything…” Katsumi gave you a loving smile. “I know you love me too.”

Hanayama Kaoru

Hanayama suffered a surprising defeat by your hands, one that would have been shameful… if you had let him lay on his back. Imagine his surprise to hear that you didn’t let him fall over when you knocked him out with a roundhouse kick to the head? That you helped him stand up… he was flattered.

And so, Hanayama bought you a bouquet of roses as thanks. The crimson petals looked flattering against you as you curiously tilted your head off to the side at him.

“You didn’t have to get me anything... I just had a lot of respect for you as an opponent! I can’t believe you were able to tank so many blows from me… you’re really strong.” You gave him a bright smile which made Hanayama shrink back a bit in shock. Did you just compliment him?

Hanayama wasn’t quite used to genuine praise. Sure he’d be praised by his peers, but not from his opponents. Especially not an attractive opponent of the opposite gender.

Hanayama has had his fair share of flings. Most women approached him for superficial reasons, but not you. You were a shining star that shared its warmth with the moon. Someone unattainable yet within reach.

Hanayama simply gave you a bow before he left. He was a man of few words, fewer than the other… but his actions were the loudest.

Hanayama doesn’t actively seek you out, quite the opposite. At first at least. The two of you occasionally bump into one another, which made the gears turn in his head. Perhaps this was a fated meeting. Yes… this was the work of the red string of fate.

And so began his fascination towards you. A small crush that slowly grew into a full blown obsession. One that became overwhelming to him.

It started off with small gifts (at least to him). Jewelry and bouquets of roses. Hanayama adored the flower of love that his mother once loved. He bought dainty jewelry with elegant designs so he had the excuse to see you be adorned with accessories he personally picked out (Kizaki actually picked them out)

Hanayama wasn’t much of a romantic but he was willing to try if it meant he’d earn your affection. He’d wear better cologne and make sure his suit was always clean. He genuinely wanted to impress you, by any means necessary. No cost was too great if it meant you’d belong to him.

He began to write you love letters with surprisingly neat, tiny characters. Poor Kizaki had to help him with the right words at first, the right hand man now officially a wingman. Kizaki would do anything to ensure Hanayama’s happiness.

At first you were flattered, it was so cute to watch Hanayama hang you the letters with rosy cheeks. Who knew he had such a cute side to him? He’d even gift you small clothing articles if he noticed your clothes were too baggy/tight.

But then they began to get darker. The clothing became more revealing and were your exact measurements. You never told him your size! His fantasies began to take hold of him since he wasn’t getting through to you at the same pace he was falling for you. And it was especially worse since the other fighters all hovered around you like flies to honey. It upset him. You were his. You belonged to Hanayama.

Sweet words of innocent love soon turned to the ramblings of an obsessive madman. A fact that even someone as clueless as you understood. You were terrified. Hanayama was now using any means necessary to get you into his arms. It didn’t matter what extremes he had to go to, he has loudly staked his claim on you. What the boss wanted, the boss got.

You nervously smiled at Hanayama who placed a bouquet of ruby roses in your hands. The bouquet nearly swallow you whole with its sheer size. Yet another loud declaration of his love for you. A love you were terrified of.

“Thank you, Hanayama… you don’t have to give me so much.” You shrunk back at the stern look he gave you, you hoped you didn’t come off as ungrateful.

“I can buy you grander gifts if you don’t like them. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do-“

You shook your head and tugged on his sleeve, an action that made his face explode in scarlet. “No, I just feel bad since you’re always going above and beyond. I do appreciate your gifts, I think you’re incredibly sweet.”

Hanayama bowed his head as he adjusted his steam filled glasses. You willingly touched him… did this mean you felt the same way he did? That you had a love for him that burned as much as his? God, he wanted to kiss you so badly… but he had another gift for you.

Hanayama reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a neatly wrapped black box. His obsidian eyes expectantly flitted to your face to see your reaction to his gift. It wasn’t difficult to size you in your sleep since you were such a heavy sleeper, but he needed to ensure this would fit!

You felt your blood run cold when Hanayama got down on one knee. What was he doing? The two of you weren’t even dating!!!

“Be my wife… or I can’t guarantee the safety of your friends and family.” Hanayama gave you the smallest of smiles as he revealed the dazzling diamond ring in the box. His predatory gaze never left your form for a second. “What do you say? Yes or yes?”

Baki Hanma

Baki and you were tied in the finals, a fact that blew his mind. The two of you were even in strength? How was that possible? This was thrilling to him!

Baki began to harp you in public to challenge you to a fight. It didn’t matter where you were. In a restaurant, at a cafe, or at a hot spring, it was on sight!

It was when you mopped him on the floor at a hot spring that he realized how inappropriate he was being. Your eyes filled with a fire he’s never seen before while you put your hands on your towel-clad hips. The towel tied firmly in place over your chest.

“Look, I know you’re still not over the tournament results but I have a lift outside of fighting.” You ran a hand through your hair in annoyance. “We could schedule a fight, but I can’t keep brawling with you on the street. I’m not trying to get arrested for fighting some… kid.”

Baki probably looked like a fish out of water. “I’m not a kid! I’m twenty!” His cheeks flushed pink when you giggled at him. What was so funny?

“Well, you’re a kid to me.” You laugh as you ruffle the short man’s hair. “You have a lot of heart, I think you’ll go far, kid!”

“I am not a kid!” Baki blushed when you just waved him off and walked away. A kid… you thought he was a kid! Baki would show you… he’d show you he was a man… but why did his cheeks feel so hot from your teasing?

You often bump into the red head whose cheeks would always flush red when your eyes would meet. It was really adorable. You always made sure to wave and smile at the younger man. There was something about him that seemed incredibly lonely to you…

And so began a friendship with Baki. You’d go out to eat with him and keep him company. Baki wasn’t used to someone asking him about his day or making sure he ate. He wasn’t used to such genuine care that he melted into a puddle from it.

You were welcoming and bright like a ray of sunshine. You’d listen to his woes and offer him your guidance. It was a stark contrast to the last relationship he had once it had fizzled out. Except there was no nagging on your end, you understood his rigorous training.

The first time you hugged him, Baki nearly cried. You were so soft and warm… like a mother.

It took another month for Baki to realize he had a crush on you. He began to seek out your touch more and would try to spend the night in your home. Baki adored being little spoon and he adored how you took care of him. Baki wanted so much more than this friendship

And as time went on, he noticed how the other fighters hovered around you. Each one of them made attempts to get you to be theirs but Baki began to interfere. He didn’t want to be alone again! He didn’t want to live without your loving warmth.

Baki would insert himself between you and the others. He’d interrupt your food outings with Katsumi, he’d stand between you and Jack (or Hanayama), he’d interrupt Retsu before Retsu could talk to you, etc. Look at Baki and only Baki!

So Baki began to cling to you even more. You couldn’t go a day without the redhead by your side. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he clutched onto you like a tick.

The more you tried to avoid him, the worse Baki became. You didn’t want to abandon him, right? He’ll be good to you, he’s just as eligible of a bachelor as the others. He’s also a man despite being younger than you!

“I love you.” Baki whispered into your shoulder before he pressed a soft kiss to the soft skin. His crimson eyes filled with adoration for you. “And I know you’re being hounded by the others, but don’t you think I’d be a better choice?”

You tried to shimmy out of his arms but his muscular arms only tightened around you. It was useless to try to escape the hold of this crimson anaconda. You sighed and placed your hand on his forearm. “Baki, I only see you as a little brother-“

You’re suddenly spun around to face the younger man, his eyes a bit teary. His hands tightly held your arms to your side as he shook. “Is this because I’m younger? I… I can prove to you that I’m a man-“

You reached forward and held his cheeks in your hand. “Baki, it’s just the way I see you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Sometimes you just get to be a bit too much.”

Baki melted into your touch, his hands hold yours while your thumbs stroked his beautiful face. Couldn’t you see that this was meant to be? That this relationship could be so much more than platonic?

Baki leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours. His eyes fluttered shut as he softly peppered your lips until he was out of breath. “I love you… I love you so much. I’m willing to fight for you.”

Kaioh Retsu

Retsu had seen you defeat Katsumi with ease. He didn’t get to face off with you, but he was impressed. Especially when he saw that you knew a bit of Kenpo. He didn’t think an mma fighter would incorporate the ancient Chinese martial art, but you had proven him wrong.

The first official meeting with him was at the Shinshinkai dojo. Polite exchanges of one another’s names turned into a deep conversation of martial arts.

“You’re a practitioner of Chinese Kenpo, right?” Your eyes are filled with stars when Retsu nods. “Wow! That’s amazing. I envy your dedication to the craft, you must have been in a temple for years…”

He couldn’t help the butterflies that stirred in his stomach when you express an interest in Kenpo (and an interest in him). You wanted to learn Kenpo over karate? How could he say no?

Retsu taught you the basics of Kenpo and he was amazed with your natural talent for it. It made the butterflies explode in his chest whenever you gave him a bright grin once you caught onto the demonstration he showed you.

Retsu has no experience with women due to being n a temple for so long… so it’s the first time he’s ever been particularly excited. Retsu is so terrified of these new feelings that began to develop for you. But he’s too afraid to ask anyone about what he’s feeling so he does his best to mask the blush on his cheeks.

Retsu found himself making you meals and talking with you about anything and everything. He genuinely enjoyed your company… more than anyone he’s met before.

And so Retsu was in a constant battle with the overwhelming feelings that started to bubble over to the surface. And you trusted him.

“I just feel so safe with you, Retsu. Like nothing bad would ever happen to me if I’m by your side.” You give him a big grin while the two of you sat side by side in a botanical garden. “Thanks for always being so kind to me.”

You’d vent to him about the strange happenings of your peers. Retsu hadn’t realized how troubled you were so he made sure to brew you tea to calm your nerves.

It’s when your hand accidentally brushed against his that made his mind wander to places it never had before. There was no denying how attracted he was to you. How he wanted to pull you into his arms and never let go. How he wanted to keep you safe and far away from all the other fighters who made you uncomfortable. Would you like China? He’d be willing to take you to his home county- no! What on earth was he thinking…

But he refused to succumb to it! He didn’t want to lose you… he didn’t want you to be scared of him or uncomfortable in his presence because he became some animal like the others. Retsu was better than them… because you trusted him.

You lean your head on Retsu’s shoulder, your eyes felt heavier than usual after you drank the tea he brewed you.

“I’m sorry, Retsu.” Your words are a bit slurred but Retsu pet the top of your head in a comforting manner. “I don’t know why I’m so tired…”

“It’s perfectly okay. I can carry you to my room, you can have my futon.” You’re too sleepy to protest when Retsu scooped you up into his arms like some sort of fairytale princess. “I’ll keep you safe, okay?”

You give him a dopey smile and nuzzle your head into his shoulder. Your breathing now steady once you finally succumbed to sleep.

Retsu felt a bit guilty that he had slipped sleeping pills in your tea, but you had such heavy bags under your eyes… which was unacceptable! He could not believe the others never took your health into consideration. What if you fell ill? This was all for your own good.

Retsu brought you into his room and laid you in his futon. His thumb brushed a few hairs from your face in thought. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?

Retsu bent down and pressed a shy peck to your lips. His breathing ragged and his cheeks a bright red. That was enough to satiate him for now… he just wanted to keep you safe and healthy.

“I love you more than they ever could.” Retsu whispered while he tucked you in. “I’ll always take care of you. Sweet dreams, Bǎobèi.”

Kiyosumi Katou

Katou was not pleased about your arrival to the dojo. He was humiliated when he lost to you in the first round at the tournament and he hated how everyone crowded around you like you were some gift sent from the heavens. You were just some woman, nothing more.

Katou usually ignored you when you’d train with Retsu or spar with Katsumi. He’d ignore the way the karatekas teased Katsumi or how Retsu’s eyes lingered on you for too many seconds. Katou didn’t understand what was so special about you.

So Katou did what he did best, he insulted you. At first it started behind your back but eventually he grew enough confidence to say it to your face… a mistake on his part.

“How about we settle this with a spar?”

You ended up mopping the floor with him. His arms flailed as he tried to free himself from your rear naked choke. Your feet were way too close to his most sensitive areas than he would have liked and there was no doubt in his mind that if your feet came any closer, he’d cream his pants.

Katou eventually admitted defeat and gasped for air like a fish out of water. Drool and snot fell down his face. He couldn’t believe how pathetic he was- Katou was shocked when you used your sleeve to wipe his mouth and nose off. He didn’t understand why you took the time to clean him up and check on him when he had been horrible to you

“You should really focus more on your karate. You have so much potential.” You offer him your hand which he hesitantly took. Katou marveled at how soft your palms were compared to his… how small your hand was. “Perhaps we’ve gotten on the wrong foot, but I’m willing to start over.”

Since that day, Katou now understood why the other men flocked to you like sheep. You were strong and yet you were kind. You were confident yet humble. You were everything he wasn’t and rather than be envious of you, Katou now desired you. He yearned for you more than anything.

Thanks to you, he took his karate more seriously. Katou sought out your praise. His eyes filled with greed when he gazed upon your sweaty form. He felt his pants tighten and his palms sweat whenever you led give him a smile and a few words of praise.

“You’re doing amazing. You’ve improved so much, Katou.”

Katou’s heart flutters whenever you say his name and he just can’t get enough of you. He has to have you. Even if not fully, he’s happy with crumbs… which is why he began to steal your soiled undergarments from your gym bag. He needed this… he needed a piece of you. Katou needed more than what the dojo provided him.

Katou began to stalk you. In his mind, he knew he didn’t stand a chance to work his way into your heart so he followed you in the shadows. He was voyeur to how all the other fighters fought for your attention. Katou wished you would look his way more… he may not have been as strong as the others, but he was willing to be completely devoted to you

He began to write you notes (that he kept to himself), he took pictures of you when you weren’t paying attention, pictures of you sleeping, and he’d even dig through your trash. Which was only when he’s been without your attention for a few days. Katou knew he was sick. That the way he felt wasn’t normal, but he had no intention to stop. A part of him even wanted you to catch him in the act so you could call him every name in the book.

Yet the more rational part of him was sickened with himself so he’d drown himself in booze once a week. A vulnerable time where you finally ran into him outside the dojo…

“Katou? Are you alright?” You furrowed your brow at Katou who sat on the side of the road. His cheeks were a rosy red and he reeked of cheap cigarettes and beer. There was not a doubt in you that he was drunk out of his mind.

“D-don’t look at me…” Katou slurred his words as he pulled his jacket up to try cover his face. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

You frown and bent down to hold his cheeks, which made more color bloom to his face. Katou’s breath hitched when you checked his temperature. “Katou, I’m a bit worried about you. Have you been eating properly? Please tell me you didn’t drink on an empty stomach…”

Katou sighed dreamily as he leaned into your hands. He felt as if he was on cloud nine since you finally paid him some attention. “You always worry for me and care for me even though I don’t deserve it.”

“Everyone deserves care-“ You’re shocked when Katou began to pepper your palms with kisses. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and feel his heartbeat through each featherlight peck. “Katou? What are you?”

“I love you.” Katou’s eyes studied your face for a reaction, his heart hopeful that you wouldn’t reject him like you had the others. “I know I’m not the strongest or the best looking, but I love you. I’m willing to do whatever it takes for your eyes to be on me.”

“Katou-“ You gasped when he glided his tongue across your palm. You tried to recoil your hands but Katou firmly held them in place.

“Please, just indulge me once.” Katou begged as his body shook like a leaf. “Please... You don’t even have to do anything other than let me adore you.”

Part 2 coming soon…

I’d love to write more and tips would be appreciated. Please buy me a coffee?

460 notes · View notes

catboybiologist · 4 months

Text

Hi! I'm Sierra. Time for a pinned post refresh.

Otherwise known as CatboyBiologist, or @hi-sierra (my SFW blog [this one is SFW too, but less so]). This page is remaining active, but if you want to find me somewhere else, I use the same username on reddit, Instagram, co-host, and tech.lgbt. This is me:

Trans woman, PhD student in molecular biology, boymoder, shitposter, freediver, hot girl on your phone, hiker, rambler (this post included), tgirl tummy tuesday supplier and enjoyer, former femboy, bane of bioessentialist fuckwads who try to use biology to validate biogotry, flaming bisexual, 196 nanocelebrity… whatever was the first thing that brought you to my blog, I hope it’s enough to get you to stay! I post selfies, hornyposts (minors and people who are averse to that be warned), stuff about the ocean, posts about my growing sense of wanderlust, my adorable lil tortoise, tutorials for transfemmes and GNC people, rambles about science, documentation of my own transition, rambles about transness, rambles about the eroticism of programming a machine to feel arousal, rambles about nature, and random shitposts. Please send me pictures of cute animals in your life!

If you wanna support my science career and my transition, consider dropping a tip here! PhD salaries are notorious for being negotiated to be exactly the cost of living…. And then forgotten about for years as inflation drops that below minimum wage. So I’m always a little strapped for cash. Anything helps!

Links to some of my tutorials and relevant resources under the cut:

I'm tracking my transition, and some people have said they found this helpful! This spreadsheet is generally updated monthly:

Usually, I write a little journal to go with it when it updates- you can find that under the #trans journal on my blog.

If you're interested in checking out some of the things I'm trying to write, here's a post with links to individual stories I'm making:

https://www.tumblr.com/catboybiologist/741010247774306304/writing-consolidation-post?source=share

My femboy guide, written well before I started HRT, but still has relevant info:

A "boyboob" tutorial, aka how to make it look like you have cleavage in an outfit that looks better with it:

A quick and dirty guide to taking better selfies, with a specific emphasis on people who may have stopped hating their body recently due to transition:

And here's a few of my personal favorite little rambles and posts about my transness, in no particular order:

CW for transphobia on this one:

A massive shoutout to @foldingfittedsheets for this amazing art of the lil borgir holding a trans flag:

I adore this so much <3 if you want to support their art, her commissions are open and really sweet!!!!

And of course, a massive shoutout to @whalesharkcat for this lovely pixel art of my tortoise:

I still love this so much, and will continue to into the future <3

For preHRT selfies, search the femboy tag. For post HRT selfies, use the "trans selfie" tag. I've been on HRT since August of 2023, so I'm still very early in the process! Day to day, I present male, but I plan to change that around the 1 year mark.

I guess that's about it! One final note is that I've been alluding to video/podcast style things for a while now. With my aderrall prescription, I've actually put in a lot of research work that might lead to 1-4 of those, so that might actually happen in the near future! No promises of course, life always catches up to you.

And if you liked my previous pinned post better, here it is:

Anyways, if you read this far, thanks for sticking around and bbyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

503 notes · View notes

covetyou · 7 months

Text

the dark caress of someone else

part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Tess Servopoulos rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: dub con, threesome (mff), oral (f and m receiving), bi reader, unprotected P in V, creampie, praise kink, spit kink, derogatory names (slut), drug reference, unspecified age gap, one singular queef (I'm not sorry), one face slap (with a dick)word count: 6.2k chapter summary: After a little white lie, you go to pick up your dads medication, only to be met by an angry Joel and a (not so) surprise visitor.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love for this silly little series. I appreciate your amazing comments so much, and I don't quite know what to do with myself.

Piggy in the middle is fuckin difficult man. But I guess life imitates art and sometimes there do just be too many holes, hands and other body parts to keep track of. Also pls excuse me but I'm, like, really bi. And Anna Torv's Tess has my whole entire pussy heart.

this part is dedicated to 'The Sweaty Javi' and 'The Hillbilly Duck Hunter' (courtesy of the wonderful @morallyinept). thank you for your services. (pls drink responsibly)

also a shout out to slasher!joel's big ol' balls (spawned by @toxicanonymity) they've been on my mind literally all week and you would not believe the ball content I had to cut from this. only a smidgen of balls remain, but the balls are there in spirit. thanks for the ballspo bb.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

song: someone new by Hozier dividers: @saradika

Your dad shook as he threw back his last pill, swallowing dry before chasing it down with a sip of water. He'd been making weak comments about needing to get more all week and you'd always stopped him. You didn't want him to go. You wanted to go.

You both knew that the pushback was all for show, but now a little white lie meant the show was over, for him at least.

"Joel doesn't want you coming to get your pills yourself anymore," you'd told him. It was a barefaced lie, but felt better than telling him the truth. How, exactly, do you tell your dad you're whoring yourself to his drug dealer?

You were fairly certain your dad knew what kind of man Joel Miller was. A Nice Man to some, maybe, but his reputation preceded him. He was known for helping out people when they got into tricky spots. Not all the time, of course, but when you had something he took a fancying to, he'd be more than willing to come to an agreement. Maybe your dad already knew what you were doing for him, for you. Maybe he noticed you had more ration cards these days, a spring in your step. You wondered if he cared, if he'd ever try to stop you.

You make your way to the nicer part of the QZ again the next day. You have a free shift and, despite your dad's protests that you should go spend it with friends, you find yourself climbing chipped steps to an empty hallway once more.

You had left the last time with the slick of oil between your cheeks, down your legs, between your thighs. It had taken days to wash off completely. You didn't mind one bit - whenever you moved the slick of it reminding you of him buried in you to the hilt, fucking you half to death in a way you'd never imagined. Embarrassment, shame, you shouldn't like this, melding together and melting away as he pummelled into you from behind. You'd practically rubbed yourself raw thinking about it, but it was never quite enough.

Uncontrollable excitement thrums through you as you approach his door. And, well, you should have known.

Each time you turn up to Joel Miller's door thinking you know what to expect, and each time you're wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. It seems this time is no different.

You hear it before you even get to the door. Raised voices - a man shouting, a girl crying. You hear muffled snippets of the argument - "fuckin' daddy" here, "you're an asshole" there. You don't want to leave, but the sound of it makes you nervous. The unexpected usually hit when you were already trapped inside Joel's apartment, not when you were waiting in the corridor for the door to open.

You decide to turn and leave, you can come back later or another day, your dad can wait. You can wait. But then the door is opening and a topless brunette is rushing out into the hallway, nearly knocking into you in the process. Tears are streaming down her face as she shoves her arms into her t-shirt, hurrying away muttering "asshole" under her breath.

You watch as she leaves, turning your head back to the open door only when you see movement out the corner of your eye.

You'd never seen him like this. White fury burned behind his eyes as he came to slam the door in the girl's wake. He sees you and halts, fingers gripping the wood so tight you think it might splinter.

"Where's your daddy," he snarls at you.

"At home, in bed. He needs-"

"I know what he fuckin' needs. Get in."

He stalks away from the door, leaving it wide open for you to enter. You follow him in. You'd been trapped in here with him before, but it never felt like this. The fear you had before was because of the unknown, the new - he was a strange man in a strange place. Now he was a man you somewhat knew and trusted, yet in this moment you feared him. You were suddenly keenly aware that he could hurt you, really actually hurt you, if he wanted to.

A cupboard door clanks shut, making you jump, then his imposing figure is stomping back over to you. Grabbing your hand, he wretches it open, pushes a pill packet into your palm, and closes it into a fist around the plastic.

"You can see yourself out," he growls before walking away from you, leaving you standing there, confused.

You frown as you look between the pills he'd just given you and him. "But -"

"But fuckin' what," he yells, turning on you. "I gave you what you want, now go."

You're a fucking idiot, poking the already angry bear, but you step forward anyway. "That's not what I want."

He scoffs at you, hands on hips, shaking his head in disbelief. You felt small just because of the size of him usually, but now he was making you feel small in other ways.

"Use me."

"Use you? You want me to use you?"

You shrug your shoulders. "That's what this is, right? You give me what I want, and I give you what you want." He'd said it himself last time, and now here you were using his own words against him.

"And you think using you is what I want?"

You look him straight in the eye, balls bigger than the universe and say, "Yes."

Angry feet drag him to you, toes stopping barely an inch away from your own. He stares down at you, challenging you to look away, but you crane your neck and keep your eyes locked with his.

When he brings one massive hand gently to your neck, holding your gaze, you try not to flinch. Joel notices, fiery gaze briefly softening, he doesn't want you to be scared of him, and allows the cradle of his hand to push against your throat. You feel your pulse thunder beneath his palm just before the pressure releases.

"You got one last hole I ain't tried yet," he murmurs, dragging the rough pad of his thumb up your jaw and across the swell of your bottom lip. You fight not to kiss it, to take it into your mouth and show him how useful you can be.

The hand drags down your body, fingertips pulling at the neckline of your shirt, before he reaches its hem. You think he's going to put a hand up it, feel your bare skin underneath. Instead he bunches the fabric taught against your chest in one fist, yanking you even closer to him, his fist keeping you from falling flush against his torso.

"Take this off," his breath whispers across your face.

Grip loosening on your shirt, you try not to stumble back as you pull your shirt over your head, cheeks heating when you briefly get it caught on your chin. You weren't wearing a bra today, but if he notices he doesn't react.

Fingers tug at your belt loops. "And these."

You unbutton your pants, pulling them down your legs and off your body, taking your shoes with them. You try not to think about if the other girl was this dressed when Joel decided to kick her out.

Joel kicks your clothes away from you, you watch them skid across the floor, pill packet clattering along with them, before turning back, the fire in his eyes back and all softness forgotten.

"On your fuckin' knees."

You thud to your knees and look up at him. He takes a step back, as if he suddenly doesn't trust himself to be close to you. The thought of him actually hurting you crosses your mind again - you wonder if that'd turn you on the same as the other things he does, the things he does to hurt but make you feel good too. Maybe it would. Maybe if he really wanted to you'd let him.

His eyes rake down your body, taking in your bare tits, nipples hardened under the chill of the room, down the swell of your stomach, across the meat of your thighs and to the dampness forming on the front of your panties.

"Want me to use you, huh?" he says, nostrils flaring as his hands flex beside him.

Your eyes flick to his crotch. You'd only been this close to him in your fantasies, but you find you're salivating just as much as you do in your dreams, aching to run your hands across him and really, finally, feel him.

As if reading your mind, his hand caresses across the front of his pants. Where there had been nothing but the soft shape of him before was a growing tent as he hardened before you. "You want this?"

You nod.

He threads a hand through your hair, scratching at your scalp and cradling your head in his palm. He forces your head back further, until you're looking directly up at him.

"You're gonna have to ask nicely for it, sweetheart."

"Please can I have it," you beg, sounding as needy as you feel. You've never needed anything more than you need this. You know he can see it in your face, in the way you lick your lips as you take him in.

He yanks his pants down in an instant, cock bouncing from their confines. He grabs it in his fist, large hand stroking gently up his length to tug at his tip as he grows. It looks huge in his hand, but you know it'd look so much bigger in yours.

You look up at him wide eyed as you watch him stroke himself. A few strokes and he's solid already. For all you've done with him, for how you've had him inside you, you've never seen it this close. Never seen how veins ripple under skin, foreskin moves back with the movement of his hand to reveal his flushed tip, slit beckoning you to taste.

"Please can I have your co- "

The hard length of him collides harshly with the side of your face. Your lips part in a gasp. You stop yourself from chasing it and engulfing it with your mouth. He hasn't said you could, and you're not stepping a toe out of line. He needs you to be good.

"You really want it?" he teases.

You nod frantically. You must look dumb, like one of those nodding dog ornaments from years ago - glassy eyed and head bobbing at just about anything.

"Kiss it." You do, hesitantly placing a gentle kiss to one side of his tip, then the other, before placing an even softer kiss to his slit. There's a thrill knowing you'd never kissed any part of him before, knowing that the first time you'd pressed your lips to him it was to his cock. If anyone ever found out maybe you'd be embarrassed, but here, in this room, all you wanted was more.

Swallowing heavily and lifting his shaft, he pulls your head closer to him. "Kiss 'em. They wanna feel good too, sweetheart."

You place more soft kisses across the delicate skin of his balls, pushing down the temptation to taste him. Your eyes never leave his face, and his never leave yours. He looks so horny he could smash you through a fucking wall, and you don't think you'd mind if he did.

You keep kissing until he pulls your head back. He's started gently stroking himself again, getting himself off as he watched you worship his balls.

"You wanna taste?"

"I wanna taste," you swallow, sinking down as you spread your knees wide to stop the temptation of rubbing your thighs together, desperate for relief he hasn't said you can have.

"Show me how much you want it."

You snap your jaw open for him, eager to taste more than the swipe of cum he'd spread over your lips weeks ago, as he fists his cock gently over your face. He's teasing you with it still when a whine catches in your throat.

Another tug to your hair tilts your head back, but your eyes strain down to look at the bead of cum that's about to drip from the tip of him. He leans over you, cock in hand and your head held in the other. You watch as he spits down into your mouth, saliva cooling as it falls from his mouth to yours, landing cold on your waiting tongue.

"Good girl. So desperate for it. Keep it open." He moves his dripping tip to your mouth before you can react, swiping it across your tongue, mixing his precum with your, and his, saliva.

You hear it before he does - the sound of a key jingling and a lock turning. It startles you, fright springing across your face as he frowns down at you. You keep your mouth open as the door swings open behind you, exposing your naked body to the hallway and whoever has just entered.

"You home, old man?" a familiar voice you can't place calls out, before the very same voice lets out a low whistle when it catches sight of you.

The door is kicked shut, and there's a thud on the table. Joel is still brandishing his cock as he stares daggers over your head at the intruder. Your fucking mouth is open.

"You mind? I'm busy," he says, wiping the tip of his cock over your tongue again. You salivate at the salty taste of him and try to swallow.

Light footsteps head toward where you kneel on the floor before Joel, knees spread, head up, eyes darting between his face and his grip on his cock.

"Well then, hello there pretty girl." You remember that voice.

Finally letting your eyes flick to the side, you see her. Tess. She seems to recognize you at the same time as you do, a smile pulling across her face as your mouth falls slack in shock.

She'd been your fathers dealer before you were handed off one day to a new one. Your dad hadn't given details on why, but you had a feeling you knew. She'd helped you once too, when a few too many sick days had meant too few cards to get by. That had been your first time on your knees for someone at the promise of pills, and at the time you thought it would be your last.

Joel watches as she approaches and looks down at you on your knees. His hand hasn't left his cock, and he's tugging on himself as he watches, another bead of precum you desperately want to lick collecting at his head. He moves his hand from its place in your hair and starts stroking his heavy balls with it as he watches you.

"How's your daddy?" she pouts in mock empathy before addressing Joel, laughing.

"Gotta say, didn't expect this when I handed 'em off to you. Told you the daughter's mouth was good, didn't I?"

"I wouldn't know, I was only just about to find out," he grits out. His hands are still slowly working over himself as he talks to her. You watch as his eyes roam up and down her body, then flick to you down at his feet. Your body heats as you watch him ogle her - you think it may be jealousy until your own eyes trail the same path down her body before resting back on Joel. What difference is there between jealousy and desire, really.

"The first time you get to mess with one, and I get to witness it? Lucky me," she grins as she watches Joel thread a hand back through your hair, drawing your attention back to him completely.

"S'not the first time," he whispers as he pulls you forward, nodding at you to open your mouth once more.

"Then what the fuck have you been doing with her?"

Joel rolls his eyes at her, instead opting to feed the head of his cock into your mouth.

Your mouth engulfs his tip, warm and wet, he sucks in a breath closing his eyes, grip tightening in your hair. You let your tongue swirl around him, feeling the ridge of his head and tasting the bitter sweet salt of his cum on his skin. Your fingers curl into the rough fabric of his pants, anchoring you to him as you bob your head over his tip, circling your tongue over every inch of it.

"Oh fuck, that's right," he moans. "That taste good?"

He looks down as you nod, your moan of confirmation around his cock pulling another groan from his chest as his eyes fall closed again.

"Fuck yeah, it does."

Tess had all but gone from your mind until you hear the tap of shoes on the floor, and feel as she crouches beside you. A soft hand comes to your face, stroking the hollow of your cheek as you suck more of Joel's cock into your mouth.

You feel soft lips press a kiss to that very same hollow, the feeling of being kissed making you sigh. His eyes snap open, he'd been so lost in the feeling of your mouth on him that he hadn't noticed Tess's approach either. Now he was looking down at two women at his feet, eyes burning holes into yours where they fluttered in your head.

She begins nuzzling your hair, your neck, placing soft kisses across your bare skin. You keep your focus on Joel, staring at him with the same intensity he stares at you. Soft hands start to roam up and down your body, squeezing your chest, pinching your nipples, dragging short nails across your stomach, her every move making you shudder.

"Can't say I ever imagined a sweet little thing like you doing this," she whispers into your ear. You can hear the sickly sweet smile in her voice.

You moan into Joel's cock as she touches you, taking yet more of him into your mouth. You want to touch it, hold the heft of it in your hand, but you never have before. You don't know if you're allowed. You inch your hand up his pants to his crotch, stroking the exposed skin at the base of him with your fingertips. The hand in your hair twitches, and you hear a strangled moan from above you.

"Fuuck."

Another shift of your hand and your hand wraps around his thick base, fingertips unable to meet even if you squeezed. Holding him steady, you can finally angle him down so you can draw more of his cock into your mouth. You flick your tongue along his tip again as you swallow around him with a moan.

"That's it. Show me how much you can take."

At the instruction, Tess knocks his hand away from your hair, bringing both of her own to hold either side of your head. She fucks your mouth up and down his length, Joel moaning deep as his hand finds yours on his pants and grips your fingers tightly.

You'd been longing to feel his lips on yours so much that you'd never considered what his hand might feel like on yours. It's the opposite of electric - the heavy heat of his rough hand grounding you, finally, as you take him in in full clarity.

"Shit that's good," he sighs as you're dragged along him by Tess's hands.

"You hear that? He thinks you're doing a good job," Tess says from beside you, pushing your head down to take more of him with a kiss to your cheek.

You start to gag as she pushes you down - it had been so long since you'd done this, and Joel's size wasn't exactly forgiving to the less experienced - but you carry on, moaning again when the welcome distraction of Tess's body pushes against yours.

"Nothin' but a cocksucking slut, huh?" Joel murmurs down to you almost affectionately, moving a stray hair from across your face. Yes you want to say, but it comes out a garbled mess as Tess laughs at you once again.

With another firm push of your head, your mouth slips down and takes Joel even further to the back of your throat. You cough and splutter, trying to push yourself back using your hand against Joel's thick thighs, but Tess holds you down with his cock buried in your throat. Joel's hand grips yours tighter still.

"Don't," he snarls. "If I wanted her chokin' on it I'd fuck her face."

"Maybe I want her to choke on it," Tess counters from beside you with another laugh, but she relents anyway.

You pull back with a gasp and take a gulp of air before kissing the tip of his cock. You don't want to let go of it for a minute. You lick long stripes up his length, collecting the strings of saliva you'd left behind, before encasing him in your mouth once more. If you were anywhere else you'd maybe feel shame at your need for him, and your need to please him, but the heat of their eyes burning into you does nothing but light a fire between your legs.

Tess sees it, moving a hand down from bobbing your head on Joel's cock, down your bare torso and cupping your clothed pussy. Her slender fingers feel so much more delicate compared to Joel's thick calloused ones as they rub over you, your moans muffled by the fullness of the cock in your mouth.

"She's so wet, Joel," you hear her say through Joel's groan and the blood rushing in your ears.

Your hips start to rock into Tess's hand of their own accord, aching to find more friction and finally get some relief. She yanks your panties to the side, using one of her fingers to trace the seam of you before gently tickling your clit. If she could only feel how damp you were before, she could definitely feel the drip of slick from your cunt now.

Slender fingers plunge into you, fucking your desperate hole with force as you work your mouth over Joel's cock. You're left empty for half a second before her fingers are back in you, more this time, stretching you further so suddenly that your legs widen to accommodate the pull of fingers inside you.

"All four fingers, good girl," Tess coos.

"Four?" grunts Joel. Tess nods, laughing, and Joel throws his head back with a groan.

"I bet we could fit a whole hand up here," she says with another kiss to your cheek.

You were naive before to think she wouldn't, couldn't, hurt you the way you thought Joel could. You were wrong, you realized now, as her fingers plunged into you, stretching wide, words taunting in your ear as she forced your head back and forth over Joel's cock.

Her fingers leave your cunt entirely, leaving you empty and gaping. She pulls you off of Joel, replacing his cock in your mouth with her glistening fingers. You clean your own slick from them, moaning at the tang of your own pussy mixing with the flavor of Joel still on your tongue. His eyes never leave you and his hand never gives up its grip on yours.

"You like the taste of pussy, don't you?" Tess whispers in your ear, pushing you back onto Joel.

"Mhm."

"I think we can do something about that," she murmurs. "Can't we Joel." You both look up at him from your knees. He growls, nodding stiffly.

You're being hauled to your feet and pushed to the couch before you know what's going on. The blood rushes to your head and the room spins when you're pushed roughly over the arm, watching as Tess unbuttons her pants and pulls them down her legs.

She lounges back on the other arm of the sofa, spreading her legs and beckoning you to come between them. You ignore the ache in your knees from the hard wood of the floorboards as you crawl over, settling between her soft thighs and looking up at her with parted mouth. You would do anything right now, desperate for any relief from anyone.

Joel has followed behind, watching your ass sway as you crawled to her. Your panties are still skewed to the side, and you know he's looking at the mess of arousal between your legs. Tess may have been the one with her fingers buried in you, but you hope he knows he's just as responsible for your glistening cunt.

"C'mon," he growls, landing a swat to your ass. "Lemme see you eat that pussy."

You stare at Tess's bare cunt, feeling needy in ways you can't even explain, and move to lower your head, eager to taste her again.

She grabs you by the hair before your mouth can touch her.

"No teasing now. You remember what I told you?" You nod. You remembered every fucking part - exactly how she liked to come undone. Sometimes you imagined her doing the same to you.

She pulls your face down toward her cunt, and you stick out your tongue, hungry to taste her. You lick her gently at first, small licks across the swelling of her clit and her flushed lips. You lick further down, parting her folds to taste at her entrance - for all her laughing and teasing, her pussy was as much of a traitor as yours when exposed like this. She was dripping.

Joel's rough hands pull your ass toward him, dragging your panties down to your knees, hobbling you. The couch dips and creaks behind you as he brings a foot up to better line up with your hole. The wetness of his cock slides through your slick folds once, twice, then notches the tip at your entrance before he pushes in in one, sheathing himself completely in the heat of your body. You moan and gasp around Tess's clit, never stopping the movement of your tongue.

"Not sure she can handle it," she half chuckles, half moans.

"She can," grits out Joel. "S'taken worse." He slides out and punches all the way back in again, the feeling of his hips snapping against your ass so much less overwhelming when his cock was in your pussy and not your ass. You try desperately to keep up the movements of your mouth, wanting to feel Tess come undone at your hands, but blocking out Joel entirely is impossible with the distracting pound of his cock into you.

Tess grabs more of your hair, pulling it away from your neck and giving him a better view of you and her cunt.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart," he groans now that he can see more clearly. "Lick that pussy."

"Been a while since you had multiple girls over, huh?" Tess taunts, throwing her head back before Joel can reply.

He nods, pulling your hips back into his as he thrusts forward. "Too fuckin' long." He groans again, meaty hands gripping your ass cheeks hard and pulling you apart at the seams as he pounds into you.

You slip a finger into her wet heat, curling it upwards as you feel inside of her. She's as slick as you, and you wonder if she's ever taken Joel as you have. The thought makes you moan again, just as Joel picks up the pace of his thrusts, slamming into you so hard your mouth jerks over Tess's cunt.

You try to steady yourself, fluttering your tongue flutters over Tess's clit, circling and suckling it into your mouth. You ignore the sensation building inside you as Joel's balls smack against your neglected clit each time he buries himself in you. It's too many feelings, too many sensations all at once.

Joel's hips stutter as he slams his cock into you, chasing his own release, already so close after you'd had him in your mouth for so long. Even closer from watching Tess tease you with her fingers buried in your needy cunt, watching your tongue lathe over hers.

You hear a strangled "Fuck" before he slams his hips forward again, slick cock slipping deep inside you as he floods your pussy with warm, wet cum. You moan into Tess's clit as you feel yourself heat from the inside out.

"Shit. Shit," he sighs from behind you. You want to turn to look at the fucked out look on his face. You nearly do.

"Don't stop, almost there," pants Tess, almost begging you with your face still buried in her wet heat, lapping at her clit with a finger curled inside her. "Pretty girl, almost there," she croons, stroking your hair and rocking into your face.

Gentle circles on her clit turn firmer, more rapid, and the hand in your hair grips you tighter as you pull her release from her. She grinds against your face, pussy throbbing as you lick her pulsing clit through her orgasm.

That same hand yanks you back a moment later, too sensitive to continue, before she relaxes back into the couch with a sigh.

"She's good, Joel," she breathes, a hand idly stroking your hair. You hear Joel grunt in agreement from behind you, his hands still holding onto your ass, and your cheeks heat with the praise.

He moves away, pulling his cock from where it had softened inside you, watching as a small trickle of cum escapes to drip down to your neglected clit.

"Looks like you earned your meds today," Tess laughs, patting your cheek, before standing to pull her pants back on without another word to you.

Still on your hands and knees on the couch, you watch her approach Joel, kissing him on the side of the mouth as he stares, breathing deeply, at your ass. His cum is still dribbling out of you. You flip to sit back on your ass, trying to stop its escape making too much of a mess on his furniture.

She whispers something into his ear, moves to the door, looks at you with a smirk one last time before opening it and leaving.

The door snaps shut, and she's gone.

As soon as the door closes he's on you again, pushing you back down into the couch with a growl. The air is knocked out of you as your back thuds down and he hoists your legs back, folding you in two.

Holding you down and open, the wetness of his mouth engulfs your pussy, slurping your clit into his mouth.

He's devouring you, eagerly eating all of his cum out your hole and cleaning you of his creamy spend.

You moan and twitch beneath him, having spent the last fuck knows how long with your mouth full but the desperate need in your pussy neglected. You'd hoped he could fuck an orgasm out of you, but as soon as the pressure of his cock in you had gotten good, the slap of his balls against your clit hard enough to send a thrill through you, he'd stuttered to a stop, leaving you with an aching pussy and nothing to show for it.

A strong arm pins you down, keeping your legs back, feet in the air. Two of his thick fingers thrust into you, before he pulls them out, licking them clean, then he plunges three straight back in, stretching you more than Tess's four ever had and making you whine, high pitched and needy, for more.

You're so close, so near to falling over the edge, but his desperate licks are too desperate, not focussed enough on your oversensitive pussy, too frantic. You feel like you've been edged for hours, but your clit has barely been touched until now. It's been left starving, aching for attention.

"Joel!" you ground out desperately, looking between your thrown back legs where he feasts on you. His eyes catch you, catch the desperation, the need, and he slows down, honing in on your clit, lapping in steady circles, fingers pumping deeply.

Your toes curl, tears come to your eyes and your bottom lip quivers. You nod at him. He's found it. Exactly what you need, the exact spot. He's relentless now, his tongue moving over, and over, and over as his eyes lock with yours.

"Ohhhnnnnng."

"That's it," you feel him mumble into your clit. "Good girl."

And you're cascading over the edge, into a pit of white heat, different but similar to the one in his eyes when you first saw him today. You shudder and jerk, his tongue flicking over your sensitive bud drawing wave after wave out of you as your pussy spasms around his fingers, gripping them tight and tethering you down as you writhe.

You twitch with oversensitivity and Joel finally stops, tongue leaving your clit, lips pressing firmly to your mound instead as he breathes you in. Your body heaves and you sink further into the couch, stomach muscles finally letting you unfurl from where you'd chased your orgasm so desperately.

"Fuck," he groans so close you can feel his lips move on your skin. All you can do is nod weakly in response. "You okay?" You nod again, not trusting your voice and still not entirely sure you're conscious.

His thick fingers pull from you, leaving you empty, and his hands gently guide your legs down to rest on the couch. Blood is still pounding through your ears, but you hear and feel it... the air that Joel's fingers had pumped into you chooses that moment to escape in one humiliating gust.

Your face drops with embarrassment, and you hear Joel laugh from between your legs.

"Sign of a job done good," he laughs, kissing down onto your pussy, tongue gently swiping along your sensitive clit again. You try to wiggle away, letting out another rumble, fucking fuck, and immediately still as Joel laughs more.

"You done?" he says into your cunt, spreading you slightly to look at your spent hole then to you. "I think she's good." He kisses your clit once more and sits back, stretching his back out on the sofa with his arms behind his head.

You both sit there in silence, recovering your breath and coming back down to earth. Your knees knock together as your legs relax. You close your eyes, breathing deeply, and let the chill of the room cool your sweaty body and the heat of embarrassment from your cheeks.

Much sooner than you'd like, you feel Joel start to move.

"I ain't mad at you, y'know," he says softly as he tucks his cock back into his pants. "Was never mad at you. Just mad."

You knew that already, but hearing him say it still made you feel better. It made you feel like you'd done the right thing, that you hadn't pulled him into something he didn't want. You were justified, you were right. He wanted, needed, to use you as much as you needed to be used.

"You should get goin'," he moves to stand as he speaks, walking away from the couch and from you.

"But -"

He shuts you up with a single look. You sit up wordlessly, casting your eyes down. He was right - what exactly would you even be staying for, really, other than because some part of you wanted to.

You dress in silence, panties still around your knees pulled up, clothes thrown on haphazardly, pills stuffed into an empty pocket. Joel doesn't watch this time, instead he rifles through the box left by Tess. You never see into it, but you watch his profile shift and change as he reacts to what she left for him.

You move closer to the table, making way to leave his apartment without another word, when he's closing the box and speaking.

"I've had a vasectomy," he says pointing to your now covered crotch. "So, y'know... should be fine."

"Oh." You hadn't even thought about it. You didn't even care. "You... you could've done that in my mouth too. I wouldn't have minded."

"Your mouth was occupied," he smirks with a shrug. "Besides, if I wanted to, I would've."

He gestures for you to leave, so you do, Joel following you to the door as you go. You open it yourself, just as Tess had, and walk out. You don't have time to finish saying thank you before the door is shut behind you, leaving you alone in the corridor yet again. You make your way home in silence.

You dream that night of soft lips on your cheek, softer hands roaming your body. The softness morphs and distorts, growing larger and more ragged. Rough hands drag along you, and the scruff of a beard scratches your face as a kiss too delicate to be real comes impossibly close to your mouth.

You wake in a sweat, heat pulsing through your veins and your cunt throbbing between your legs.

You'd come in your sleep to nothing but desperate thoughts of a kiss you'd never had.

next part

tag list: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @noisynightmarepoetry @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #tess servopoulos #joel miller x reader x tess servopoulos #fic: SWAT #coveted fics

563 notes · View notes

storiesoflilies · 4 days

Text

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

303 notes · View notes

necstasy · 19 days

Text

candy-coated raindrops

& willy wonka

synopsis. willy wonka lets you play around in his chocolate kit. neither of you could have predicted that you would create an aphrodisiac chocolate.

includes. aphrodisiacs, smut 18+ MDNI, accidental drugging (due to aphrodisiacs), oral (f receiving), dry humping, cumming untouched, premature ejaculation, p n v intercourse, virgin coded willy, teaching/coaching, neighbors/friends to lovers, typical wonka shenanigans, fluff

word count. 6k

a/n. title from candy rain by soul for real. art is aftersleep by lewinale havette.

Willy should have never let you in his chocolatier kit. He was being sweet, charming, romantic, even. It seemed like a harmless idea at the time, letting you have full reign over the elaborate ingredients in his at home kit, allowing you to make whatever chocolate you wanted.

You’ve seen him make chocolate often enough to know the process. You stressed that you didn’t need his guidance. You wanted your creation to be a surprise, so you casted him off to his living room while you sat in the kitchen, working diligently to create your masterpiece.

When you finished and had two tiny and harmless-seeming chocolates in your hand, you and Willy quickly indulged yourselves, humming around the surprisingly pleasant taste. But then the effects began to kick in.

They were slightly unnoticeable at first, and your immediate instinct was to attribute the sudden warmth to a shift in the temperature, the sweat gathering along your hairline to the stress of making chocolate, the adrenaline in your limbs to the sugar making its way through your body, the stirring low in your abdomen to the presence of someone you feel something for standing just across from you.

But the growth of your symptoms were confusing. Willy displaying similar symptoms was alarming.

Standing in the center of his apartment, you’re trying to ignore the way your heart is trying to jump out of your chest and into his while you focus on the way Willy’s green eyes are a little lidded and heavy and—dare you say—lustful as he stares at you, all while you’re trying to get to the bottom of the incident.

“Willy,” you call his name once, and when he doesn’t answer, you call it twice. It’s not until you introduce a firm tone that he blinks himself out of whatever stupor he was in. When he looks at you again, his eyes seem a little clearer.

(He was intensely trained on the way your blouse, newly tailored by your own hands, fit over your bosom with just enough strain to create emphasis. In fact, you were filling out all of your clothes quite well today, but he hadn’t noticed until now. Until the chocolate has taken effect, he reminds himself.)

“I’m sorry, have you been talking?”

You nod. “Yes!”

Willy clearly hasn’t been listening at all. Now, he stands straight with his hands tucked into his front pockets. You don’t fail to notice the tension in his shoulders and his face, especially since he attempts to relax both areas, only to end up in the same predicament as before.

“Did I do something wrong with the chocolates?” You ask him.

Willy takes a second. He clicks his tongue, turns to face the wall to your left, and hums.

“That depends. Did you do something wrong with the chocolates?” His attempt at a joke falls flat, especially when your response is the same expression. He presses his lips into a thin line, dips his head. “Sorry.”

He runs down the list of the standard ingredients, asking if you’d included each and every one to the T. Then he gets to the additives, the ingredients that make Wonka’s chocolate unique. The array that you previously had free reign to, left with one singular instruction to not mix them together.

“You didn’t mix them, right?” His eyebrows lift, his eyes widen as if mixing the ingredients could cause something as disastrous as the end of the world. When you shake your head with the absolute truth, worries melt from Willy’s face for just a second, before his eyebrows push together and he takes a step closer to you.

“Oh, God, don’t tell me you used the pink bottle? The small one tucked in the corner?” He says it with caution, and this tone alerts you more than the previous. This tone is careful, as if he’s attempting to not scare you as well as himself.

This tone makes you hesitate to answer truthfully. You choose avoidance as a replacement strategy.

“What would happen if I did use the pink bottle? Nothing bad, right?”

Willy steps back, turns, and begins to pace the apartment, your eyes following him to and fro.

“Nothing bad, I guess. Just … unfavorable. Awkward. Debauched.” With each adjective he stops, faces you, and then continues pacing.

Debauched? Is that why you feel like this? Is that why you’ve been watching Willy’s mouth and hands move rapidly? Why you’ve been noticing how pink and smooth his lips are, and how slim and long his fingers are, and why you suddenly can’t stop thinking about exactly what he could do with both.

It takes loads of strength to snap yourself out of your daze.

“Um … debauched? What d’you mean, Willy? What was in the pink bottle?”

He finally stops his pacing to face you. His green eyes seem a little remorseful, maybe regretful. He looks like he’s going to deliver unfavorable news, things that could change the trajectory of your slightly comfortable life.

“It’s an aphrodisiac.”

An aphrodisiac. Willy Wonka has an aphrodisiac in his chocolatier kit. It shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is, the man has Yeti tears and Hoverflies and other things you can’t even begin to comprehend. But Willy Wonka making sex chocolates is the thing you’re struggling to wrap your head around.

You don’t bother asking why he has an aphrodisiac, and you know what it would do—what it will do to you both—but you still find yourself asking for assurance.

“What would an aphrodisiac chocolate do?”

Willy clicks his teeth. “Well, I suppose it would … do what aphrodisiacs do.”

Currently, it’s certainly doing what aphrodisiacs do. Willy really shouldn’t have let you make chocolates.

You turn away from him.

When you’d been sitting in front of all of Willy’s ingredients, they were all a little overwhelming. You had endless options for what you wanted to create. Endless possibilities for effects. And when you’d decided to keep it simple with a pretty pink unlabeled bottle, you assumed the chocolate would be strawberry flavored at most. Not this. You can’t help but ruminate, letting your thoughts lead you down twisted corridor after twisted corridor, all lined with possibilities of how you and Willy’s cherished friendship could be destroyed by this one mistake. Your mistake.

You hear his footsteps first. Soft thuds of his worn in boots against the creaky floor. You feel the warmth of his body next, getting closer and closer until he’s right behind you.

When his hand touches your elbow, you flinch at first. When he doesn’t remove his touch, you quickly become used to it.

“Hey, you aren’t panicking, are you? Because I’m sure I could whip up an anecdote or something. It might take a while because I don’t know the exact ratio, but I’m sure I could do it.”

There’s a second where you don’t say anything, even though you have a worried reply already brewing on your tongue, the words along the lines of Willy either making the situation worse or taking too long to create an anecdote. Ultimately, you decide to hold your tongue, not willingly, instead because you’re acutely aware of the way Willy’s trying to soothe you. You’re focused on the way his voice reverberates in his throat, the volume and tone so soft that you can’t help but create an entirely different scenario for when the words could be said in your imagination. He sounds so beautiful, a voice you want to hear for as long as the universe would allow it.

And if that’s the chocolate or your long term crush talking, you don’t know. What you do know is that you and Willy should stay away from each other just in case either of you thought about giving in and ruined whatever good thing you had going thus far.

Willy doesn’t take kindly to your suggestion.

He steps in front of you, bending down enough to force you to look at him, his hopeful eyes searching for your downcast ones.

“Stay away from each other? I think we should do the opposite, just for our own safety. We don’t know how strong this batch is, you know. What if you walk out of this flat and jump onto the first guy you see?”

He talks fast, bordering on rambling, and his words hold an edge stronger than plain worry. Jealousy, even, but you refuse to believe it.

(Willy certainly is jealous at the thought of someone taking care of you in this state, especially since that would leave him alone with only his hand and the memory of you once more.)

When you agree to stay, your decision is based on wishful thinking. You both sit back on Willy’s new couch, a display of how well his chocolate shop was doing. There’s a little too much space between you both, but the energy radiating from your bodies occupies the gap.

Willy asks you about your symptoms first.

You list them off, the same as before save for the addition of the arousal gathering in your panties. Willy nods, you notice his ears turning a very light pink as he divulges into his symptoms.

“The same as you and I uh …” he hesitates. His hips shift along the couch and he wipes his hands along the knees of his trousers. “I have an erection,” he eventually admits, his voice just a tad bit too low.

It is plain curiosity that drives you to look over at his crotch where you take notice of the evidence.

You want to stare longer, you really do, and your gaze does linger for a moment. Until you feel Willy watching you and you lift your eyes to his, taking in the way they’re just wide enough to display curiosity, a look he wears often and well.

He licks his lips and your ever inquisitive eyes pick it up.

“How long do you think the symptoms will last?” You ask him.

Willy shrugs. “It can’t be more than a few hours, right?”

You nod, sit back, and wait.

Two hours pass by before you give in.

You make it through the first hour with much difficulty and nothing but board games, books, and stories about your childhoods to keep you tethered. You go to the bathroom an hour and a half in and seriously consider forcing your fingers between your thighs for just a bit of relief, but Willy calls out for your turn in a rousing game of chess from the otherside of the door and you’re flushing the toilet and waddling back out to face him.

It’s a slight brush against the other that changes the course.

You’re both in Willy’s kitchen attempting to make tea. The space is like yours, just inverted, which means it is entirely too small for the price you pay. You’re moving around well enough at first, asking Willy where things are before you grab them yourself as he works in tandem.

And then it’s a slight brush, just the smallest bit of friction from his crotch running against your bottom, that makes your breaths hitch.

For the past two hours, you both had been avoiding the issues at hand, dancing around the elephant in the room like hormonal teenagers going through their first near-sex encounter. Willy kept a pillow over his lap to shroud his prominent boner. You tried your best to keep your blouse from rubbing against your erect nipples, or the seam of your trousers from rubbing against your cunt. And all things considered, you were doing pretty well.

All it took was one little brush and suddenly your pelvis is pressed against the counter, the cabinet above you is closed with its desired contents forgotten, and Willy has you caged in your spot with his hands on either side of you.

His head rests against your shoulder as he frantically rocks his hips into yours. One of his hands leaves the material of the counter to grip your hip, keeping you still as he continues to hump you. Your own stimulation from the act is minimal, but the aphrodisiac has apparently also made you grateful because you take what you can get.

Plus, the little sounds Willy makes are enough to get you off alone. You wished you could bottle them up and take them back with you, in fear that this would only be a one time thing.

He is all but whimpering against your back with each shaky thrust into your ass. He glides the length of his cock along the seam of your cheeks, working in strokes as long as the situation allows for.

There’s not much coordination to it, but apparently it gets the job done because it is alarming how soon his hips stutter and he rocks into you one final time before he stops and pants against your back.

His turnaround time is even quicker.

“Oh God,” he steps back from you, but the kitchen doesn’t allow for much space. When you turn around to face him, he’s still within arms reach. “I’m sorry. I … I don’t know what came over me. Maybe you were right, we should’ve gone our separate ways. Allow me to show you out…”

You put an end to his rambling by pulling him close with one hand on his face and the other on his shoulder.

You’re bold for a moment, bold enough to bring your mouths almost together. The tips of your noses touch, you can feel his breath mingling with yours, but then you give him space. You give him the option to back out, positively damning you to your own devices and memories once more.

But if it means you and Willy could remain friends, then you’ll take it.

The doubt begins to creep into your mind. It starts to make a home in your frontal lobe, distorting the image in front of you into something shameful. Self deprecating, even. He had just humped himself to completion against your back, yet you question how he feels about you.

Your touch on Willy’s body lessens into a gentle press for just a second in preparation to separate from him completely, but then Willy takes the initiative to move a hair closer and presses his lips to yours.

It’s swift at first, nothing but a hesitant press of lips against lips. It’s not halfhearted, though. On both ends is a certain amount of exercised restraint, and when you sigh and press your chest to Willy’s, he gets rid of his first.

Like before, Willy displays an unruly side to him that you had barely seen before. He delivers onto you a passion you have only seen him have for his business thus far.

His hands eagerly cup your cheeks as he sears his mouth against yours. Your lips move in uncoordinated tandem, lacking any cleanliness within it. You allow yourself to be coaxed into opening up until you have your hips against Willy’s and your hands in his hair.

When you bump your crotch into his, Willy makes a noise into your mouth that sounds like he’s been wounded. It’s then that you notice that he’s hard again. Or, maybe he was never soft to begin with, despite the dampness you know to exist within his trousers.

An idea forms into your mind.

You continue to allow Willy to kiss you, opening your mouth just enough to tease your tongue into his, before placing the muscle back into its home. Meanwhile, your hand travels down, over Willy’s chest, along his waist and pelvis, and then right to his croctch where you brush the palm of your hand over his boner with just enough pressure to elicit a reaction.

He sighs, pulling back from your lips to rest his forehead against yours. You take the positive reaction in stride and continue your work.

Your lips part in grateful shock whenever Willy rests one of his hands on your bottom, gripping the flesh through your skirt in his hand. His eyelashes flutter to open, revealing his big green eyes, windows into his soul that display the desire swarming through his body like a colony of active bees.

You only palm Willy’s cock twice more before he rests his hand on your wrist.

Your eyebrows lift, but you don’t have to voice your curiosity.

Willy smiles at you sheepishly as he delicately peels your touch away. “I don’t wanna …” He shakes his head. “Not too soon. Again. I want you to feel good, too.”

You don’t have to be told twice.

You dig your fingertips into the stiff waistband of Willy’s trousers and use your grip to pull him to the den behind you. Truthfully, even if you hadn’t tethered him you knew he would have followed.

As soon as the couch is within sight, you direct Willy to it and push him to sit. He falls back unceremoniously with a light “oh!”, looking up at you expectantly, eagerly. His lithe hands resting on his knees, his eyes as wide and curious as ever

As soon as you straddle him, he weakly thrusts up into you, as if the reaction was unintentional and instinctive. When your hands begin undoing the buttons of your blouse, Willy’s eyes drift down to watch, and it’s comical how they widen even more whenever your blouse is open and he gets the first look at your chest.

You pull the remainder of the shirt off of your body, and slip the straps of your bra off of your shoulders, but you stop there.

“Do you wanna take it off?” The previous haste hangs suspended over you both for just long enough for Willy to answer. As soon as he nods you’re directing his nimble fingers to the back of your bra, dropping your touch to allow him to fumble for the clasp. You expect it to take longer than it does, but only a few seconds and two attempts are needed before Willy has your tits exposed.

He stares. And stares. His lips quirk into a small smile, he compliments you with so much sincerity that you think you flush a little bit.

His hands still rest at your back, fingers lightly pressed into where the band of your bra had been digging into your skin all night. You don’t say anything when you latch your fingers onto his forearms and pull his hands around to the front.

Willy looks up at you with raised eyebrows, nonverbally asking for the permission you’ve already given him. Still, you nod once, and then he has two large hands covering your tits. You let him gather his bearings there, directing him every so often in ways to massage and pinch and rub against your nipple. Just when he starts to pull direct pleasure from you, he inhales as if he was going to say something.

“Can you—uh …” he hesitates and then starts again. “Can you teach me how to make you feel good? What can I do?”

You’re busy knocking your hips in a search for more pleasure, so it takes you a second to respond. “You can use your fingers. Or your mouth.”

Willy’s reply comes incredibly fast. “My mouth. If that’s okay with you.”

You stop moving and just smile down at Willy, brushing a stray curl off of his face only to watch it fall right back into place. “More than okay with me.”

Which is how you end up sitting on Willy Wonka’s new couch entirely bare, your legs spread before Willy who is on his knees in front of the couch. He has only taken his shirt off, and despite the disparity in nudity, you don’t feel uncomfortable. Even though you’re spread open before him.

From above, you’re able to see the way your cunt glistens, enticing even you to do something about it. It’s all the more confusing on why Willy is just sitting there, staring. You know he’s inexperienced from the way he requested guidance, but does he not know what to do at all?

Your lips part. “You can start by–” Willy doesn’t let you finish before he speaks over you.

“Just one second.” He drags it out.

It’s there where you realize he’s not completely lost. He’s just admiring.

You don’t rush Willy, even when your emptiness starts to become unbearable and you can feel frustration growing. You don’t have to wait for long, though, because Willy is soon extending a long middle finger and gently pushing it against your folds, applying just enough pressure to separate your lips and dip into your arousal.

He swipes through the fluid, gathering it on the tip of his finger before lifting the digit to the light, ignoring the way you shiver. You watch him inspect the way his finger glistens. You watch him bring it to his mouth and wrap his lips around it. You watch his cheeks hollow as he sucks his finger clean, his eyes fluttering shut much like they do whenever he’s tasting one of his particularly well made chocolates.

He releases his finger with an audible pop, his eyes opening and focusing right back on their target. When he speaks, it’s likely to himself.

“Wonder if I could harness this flavor.” He leans in as he says it, his lips getting closer and closer to the place you’ve wanted him for a while now. His last few words are spoken in almost a whisper, but you catch it anyway. “Maybe put it in one of my chocolates …” and then he’s letting his tongue exit his mouth and placing it on the path he’d opened.

He takes tiny and tentative licks for a few moments, focused on not one particular spot. He’s in between your entrance and your clit, occasionally catching a cluster of nerves that provide a teaser of what he could be doing with just a bit of guidance. Guidance that you’re willing to provide.

“Go up a bit,” you tell him, your hands digging into the velvet fabric of the couch cushions under you. He moves up, his eyes watching you and his eyebrows raised curiously. “Just a little further. There should be a–” He finds it just then and your head throws back.

You think he speaks a “there?” into your clit, but you can’t be sure. You nod either way, letting praises slip past your lips while Willy focuses his tongue there.

He’s not half bad now that he knows what to look for. His hands hold you open, one palm on each thigh, five fingers pressing into your skin with a firm focus. The tip of his tongue flicks your clit, sometimes slipping a little too far under or above but it works. The aphrodisiac knocking through your system makes sure that it all works.

Your hand eventually gravitates towards Wonka’s curls, fingers slotting through the tousled brown until you have the hair along his crown pushed back. He responds positively to this, pushing himself further into your cunt until his nose is buried in your mound. His enthusiasm peaks, he has a burst of energy, and he starts to lap at you. He pushes your legs up and back, opening all of you up to him, and he devours.

He’s messy and audible with it, switching between sliding around your entrance to going back to your clit. Every so often, he misses his target, but his recovery is quick, strong, and impressive.

You want to tell him to slip a finger in you, but the words refuse to find your tongue. They float aimlessly and uselessly around in your head, evading the hand that attempts to grab them. Instead, you grip his hair, push him down while you push your hips up, and Willy takes the direction as a hint to force his tongue in you. It’s unexpected, but it feels so good. You’re nodding and moaning far too loud.

“Yes, yes, right there, Willy. Don’t stop, please.”

It’s a little counterproductive and ironic when he briefly stops to assure you that he won’t stop, but the sentiment is still there. His nose nudges at your clit as his head bobs with the movement of his tongue working in and out of you. The combination has you close, and closer, and closer, until …

Your legs close around Willy’s head and your hips cant up towards his mouth while one of the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had takes over you. It surely has to be a combination of your recent celibacy, your feelings for the chocolatier between your legs, and the sweet candy still taking over your system. And you’re so thankful for each aspect as your thighs continue to tremble and you struggle to catch your breath.

Willy doesn’t seem to notice your struggle. He continues his work in the same place and with the same amount of determination, undeterred by your thighs pressed against his ears. He has accepted the position, resting his hands on the outside of your thighs and rubbing his palms up and down your skin. It’s almost too much, and you’re just about to tell him as such whenever you feel the beginnings of another orgasm creeping up your spine.

You debate your options: letting this orgasm taper off or letting it exist, and you can’t come to a conclusion before your body is making it for you.

Willy has switched back to your clit for this one, pink lips puckered around the bud as he sucks and licks and even nips every so often. Finally, he pushes a finger into you, just one but the rough pad of the digit massaging the top of your walls is enough for your head to throw back and your mouth to open in a silent shout as your toes point and your back curls. And soon after you’ve gone through this orgasm, you go limp and simply exist, shockingly thankful when he takes his mouth away from you.

“You taste good,” is the first thing he tells you. His lips and the surrounding area glisten. His overindulgence is obvious on both of your bodies.

You hum, trying to come back to.

“Do you want a taste?” He’s already rising to your lips when he asks it, and you wouldn’t have said no anyway. You kiss him gratefully, but lazily, letting his tongue slip into your mouth without much reciprocation on your end as you’re not wanting the flavor as much as you’re just wanting him. Thankfully, Willy doesn’t seem to mind.

Remaining lazy on top, you use your hands below Willy’s waistband to lightly palm his cock. When you find what you’re looking for, another boner stuffed in his trousers, you start to undo his pants.

When you pull his cock out of his boxers, you momentarily forget about his moment of weakness earlier. The mix of dry and wet cum around him doesn’t bother you, and you momentarily have the thought to clean him up with your mouth. You don’t get to act on it before Willy speaks.

“I should get protection.”

Your eyebrows lift. “Do you have any?”

When Willy nods enthusiastically, as if he’s proud to own condoms, your heart thuds painfully behind your throat. It makes sense that Willy would have slept with someone who wasn’t you, but that doesn't make it sting any less.

You watch him, anticipating him to stand and walk away to grab a condom. Instead, he reaches under the couch cushion, searching for a second, and pulls out a metal tin. You go to ask him about the location, your lips already forming the question whenever he answers it for you.

“Just in case.” His lips pull into a thin smile.

Is Willy really that desired that he keeps condoms stashed around his apartment? You wonder where else they are, and how often he gets to use them.

(Unbeknownst to you, it’s not very often at all. The locations are picked simply as a trait of overplanning and born from his hopefulness.)

In no time, Willy has the condom slipped over his dick and his tip nudges at your entrance. You’ve laid on the floor beside the couch, your back pressing into the rug you’d helped him buy not too long ago. When his tip is kissing your entrance, he stops there, eyes raising to meet yours for a second. You don’t know exactly what he’s waiting for, but you give him a curt nod anyway and that seems to do the trick. He pushes forward slowly and you don’t know if it’s for your benefit or his, for he shudders as soon as his tip breaches your entrance and you hiss and he continues to introduce more and more of his length.

You didn’t get a good look at him before allowing him to enter you, so you go on feeling alone. He’s thicker than you would have imagined, with more veins than you would have thought, too. The condom shields more than you would have liked, but safety is the most important thing here, even though your amplified brain tells you that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have a kid with Willy. You’ve seen him interact with children before, and the thought would sometimes find you late at night, or during moments like now. But before you can dwell on it any longer, you push it away as Willy sinks more length into you.

You try to be patient and breathe through it all. When Willy finally stops, you think you’ve reached the end. But then he moves a little more and apologizes when you groan exasperatedly.

“Almost there. I promise.” Just a few more seconds, and some impossible inches later, and Willy is finally nestled completely within you, deeper than you anticipated.

You’re unresponsive under him, your eyes blinking at the ceiling and your lips parted. From an outside perspective, it looks like you don’t have a single thought behind your eyes. When really, it’s the complete opposite. Your thoughts are taking over every bit of your being, echoing the same phrase in an exclamation: It’s finally happening!

He’s not moving yet, but even this feels heavenly. You’re so full, fuller than you’ve been in a while. Willy’s combination of length and girth is something you’ve never had before and you worry that after this dream completes, you might never have it again. You’ll forever be an addict chasing a high you won’t ever achieve again.

But that’s for you to worry about afterwards.

Willy has his head hung low above you, his hands pressed into the rug beside your head. His hips are flush with yours, still unmoving, but he’s breathing heavily above you. Labored, almost.

In an attempt to be soothing, you rake your hands through his hair. He shakes against you and lets out a sound that is a combination between a gasp and a moan. It’s so pretty that you want him to do it again, so you repeat your motion. It doesn’t get your intended reaction until you pull on the thinner hairs at the back of his head, and then he makes the sound again and gives you your first thrust.

After that, he doesn’t stop. You don’t think he can.

His thrusts are clearly unpracticed, which qualms your worry about Willy sleeping with someone other than you (not that it matters or anything). You don’t know if he gets the hang of it, or if it’s just pure luck, because after a short while he improves.

He starts rolling his hips instead of just moving them back and forth. He angles them a little, likely something accidental but it works, and you push your legs into his side to keep him there. He’s finally lifted his head, but his eyes are closed while he feels it. He’s deep in you still, his thrusts are a little shallow as they reach for your cervix and this alone makes you shudder. It’s a slightly unusual feeling for you, which makes it all the more alluring. You encourage him to keep going through unfinished sentences, and he praises you for how good you feel in between your words. You both are speaking at the same time, not exactly listening to the other and creating a concoction of words.

“You feel so good. I can’t believe this is happening. Thank you, thank you, thank you …”

“Right there, Willy. Right there. Yes! Keep going, please. Don’t stop …”

It’s no surprise to you when he cums first. He warns you before it happens, his words are a little shameful when he admits it. “I’m close. I’m not gonna last.”

You tell him to let go anyway and when he does, it’s such a pretty sight. Earlier today, he was behind you when he did this, and you weren’t graced with his face. But now that you are, you kick yourself for missing it before.

He’s so pretty.

His pink lips swollen and open. His dark eyebrows pushed together. His eyes closed. His curls hang over his forehead. But the small features in his face is what makes the picture so pretty. All of the tiny muscles working together, minute in nature, but joining to create a painted canvas that you want to either save or see as many times as possible.

This orgasm lasts long enough for him to pull you in it with him. He’s still cumming into the condom, providing a warmth that’s so close but so far inside of you. His thrusts are strong and constant, even though the rhythm of them is off and unpredictable. But each time his crotch presses into yours, nudging against your clit, and after enough times you’re letting go too, allowing whatever your orgasm wants to bring work its way through your body.

Here, like this, it’s a beautiful, harmonious scene. You exist together like this, and not just together. It’s a bliss and a level of intimacy you’ve always dreamed of, and you want to sit in it for as long as you can. Apparently, you both do.

Willy doesn’t move even whenever both of your bodies are limp. He holds his weight off of you on his forearms, but his head is resting between your breasts and along your stomach. He sits like that for a minute before rising, shakily pulling out of you, and then laying beside you.

You speak first.

“D’you think we should try to sell those chocolates?”

Willy laughs weakly. “Valentine’s day special?”

You hum, your eyes glancing down to where Willy has rested a hand on your stomach. The appendage sits there, unmoving, for a second, and when you don’t protest, he begins to draw indistinguishable shapes along your skin.

Answering your question without humor, he says, “No. I think we would keep it between us. If that’s okay.”

The way he says us has undertones attached to it, creating more weight than the two-letter word would usually have. You like the way he says it.

You turn your head to look at him, already finding him looking at you. For the first time, your skin flushes at the thought and you feel giddy. A little embarrassed, too. The aphrodisiacs must be wearing off and the confidence with it.

“Yeah. That sounds good.” A moment passes. Then, “But I don’t remember the recipe so don’t hold it to me.”

Willy laughs with a little more enthusiasm this time and you return it.

“Should we get cleaned up? Maybe have some dinner?”

You nod, leaning in towards his lips. When you kiss him, he tastes like strawberry flavored chocolate. Well, underneath the distinct bitterness of your arousal he does.

#&. WRITING #&. willy wonka #willy wonka smut #willy wonka x you #willy wonka x reader

220 notes · View notes