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#Love this place nevertheless
piritos03 · 1 year
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Boss Bitch
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Reference under the cut ⬇️
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peggydreadful · 2 years
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Better Things
The letter arrived in the morning.
It came, as letters do, in the mail, slipped between weekly ad circulars and flyers for next weekend’s voter registration drive. The plain white envelope bore no return address. It was marked with only two words, written in a dark, nearly illegible scrawl: Vox Populi. 
For a moment, Leda considered destroying the letter, setting the paper alight over the kitchen sink and watching the edges curl and blacken until it was nothing more than flakes of ash. After all, Ollie was out on his morning run; by the time he got back, there would be no evidence that his former guild—a band of the most eminent dragon slayers in the United States—had ever been asking after one Oliver Song. 
But Leda did not burn the letter, as much as she wanted to. Instead, she left it on the kitchen table, tucking one corner of the unopened envelope under the vase of wilting flowers that Ollie had bought for her two weeks ago.
Maybe he won’t notice, Leda thought to herself, knowing that he would, that he’d make a beeline straight for it as soon as he got home. Still, she couldn’t help but hope that he wouldn’t open the envelope for a few days (at least), that by the time he did, the dragon would have already been slain or the ritual already completed or the world already ended (or saved). 
Was it selfish of her, to want to keep Ollie to herself for a little while longer, if she could? Perhaps, but Leda had always been selfish; that was nothing new. 
There was a reason why people called Ollie a hero and Leda a bitch.
Sometimes, Ollie forgot that he was famous. 
It was easy to forget in a place like Evendale, Ohio. It helped, he supposed, that the dragons here were much smaller than the ones in New York, and less aggressive, too; the biggest ones—a pair that Hugh Donavan kept behind his sheep pastures—were hardly bigger than cows and lovingly docile, a far cry from the legendary, skyscraping beasts that occasionally darkened the skies of Manhattan. 
In Evendale, Ollie could be a boyfriend first and an EMT second and a dragon slayer third. It was why he’d left the Vox Populi in the first place and moved out here: to be more than just the hero from Queens who had killed the Wyvern of Wall Street with a broken stop sign, to leave the blood and fire and glory behind and just be some guy. 
Unfortunately, Ollie’s forgetfulness rarely lasted for very long; the world, it seemed, derived a sick pleasure from reminding him that he was not, in fact, just some guy. 
When he’d first moved to Evendale, the paparazzi were everywhere. He hadn’t considered that they might follow him from Manhattan to Ohio, but there they were, camping out on the sidewalk by his apartment building or the community gym or the local Waffle House with their cameras pointed at the main entrance, hoping for a candid shot of the newly-retired hero. It made him feel like an ass, slipping in and out of places via service entrances like he was some sort of rock star, but pushing through the mob of journalists and photographers, surrounded on all sides by flashing lights and rapid-fire questions, terrified him more than any sea serpent he’d ever dredged out of the East River. 
Those first few months had been hard. He’d done his best to be polite and understanding, but the gossip columnists never seemed satisfied with the answers he offered, never content to accept that he really had left the Vox Populi because he didn’t want to slay dragons anymore and not because of some secret scandal or covert reconnaissance mission. 
“Someone like you doesn’t just leave a penthouse in Manhattan to slum it in Ohio,” a reporter from OK!—or was it Star? Or maybe TMZ—had said to him once. “It just doesn’t happen.”
“Sorry,” he’d said in response, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. He'd really wanted to ask, “Why not?” Was it so strange to think that Ollie liked helping people but preferred to do so without constantly fighting for his life while clamped between the jaws of a fire-breathing beast the size of the Guggenheim Museum? (Judging by the number of prying questions he received about it—apparently.) 
In those moments, Ollie wished someone had told him, before he’d become a member of the Vox Populi and slain not one, not two, but three greater dragons in the name of the city. He wished he had known how utterly alone he’d feel, buoyed aloft by the praise and adoration of strangers. To have millions of people watching his every move without seeing what he’d done and listening to his every word without hearing what he’d meant—it was like screaming and screaming and screaming into the dark tunnels of the subway system, hoping that the emptiness lodged in his chest would spill past his lips and seep into the grimy tile and screeching tracks of the Elmhurst Avenue stop. 
(It never did; instead, that loneliness would wedge itself under Ollie’s tongue and stick to the roof of his mouth, leaving a bitter aftertaste like the dandelion tea his grandmother used to brew for him when he was twelve.) 
Would any of the Vox Populi have joined, if they’d known how lonely it would be beforehand? Ollie wasn’t sure.
He, at least, had Leda. 
Bitch wasn’t the worst name Leda had ever been called. 
Frankly, she’d endured a lot of defamation throughout the years, the most vitriolic of which had surfaced in the first few months after news of her relationship with Ollie had been leaked to the press, when they’d both still been living in New York. 
On an intuitive level, Leda understood where the name-calling was coming from. If anything, jealousy-fueled insults aimed at the integrity of her character were to be expected of the thousands of people who, for some reason, thought themselves deserving of the affections of a Vox Populi. Still, the amount of hate mail in Leda’s Twitter mentions was almost comical—she had a folder saved on her phone that was filled with screenshots of the most outrageous conspiracy theories about her. (Her current favorite was one that claimed she was a former CIA operative who was currently using LSD-based mind control on Ollie in order to dismantle the Vox Populi and install a system of dragon overlords. Truly, people gave her way too much credit.) 
These days, the Internet trolling came more slowly, cresting and falling in lethargic waves. The most recent incident had been sparked by a video from nearly five months ago, when Leda and Ollie had first moved to Evendale. In it, dozens of cameras and microphones are being shoved into Ollie’s face as the couple emerges, hand in hand, from their apartment building. 
“—rumors that you’ve been in and out of Evendale General for a number of weeks now. What can you tell us about that?” a reporter asks, barely in frame as the video starts.
Ollie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, his eyes darting anxiously from camera to camera. “Well, I’ve been—”
“Have you sustained a career-threatening injury, or are you in rehab for addiction?” another reporter interrupts, his voice harried as he shouts into his microphone. 
Ollie’s brow furrows, and he licks his lips before speaking, thoughtlessly seductive. “No, I’m fine—”
Leda didn’t remember much of this confrontation, hadn’t given it much thought before it had gone viral, but she did remember this: Ollie’s hand tightening on hers, his pulse fluttering frantically underneath her fingers as he struggled to fend off rumors. She’d spoken up, then, cutting in as another reporter tried to interject with their own wildly invasive question. 
“That’s enough.” 
In the video, Leda’s face is twisted into a snarl, her upper lip curled in disdain. She doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t need to as she pushes past the paparazzi with more force than is strictly necessary, dragging Ollie along behind her, but a threat hangs in the air around her nevertheless, reflected in the dark storm clouds crackling in her eyes. 
That video had earned Leda a number of colorful nicknames, none of them particularly forgiving. Luckily, it had also resulted in fewer paparazzi stakeouts in Evendale as a whole, which was a relief because the number of shirtless candids they had been taking of Ollie during his morning runs had really started to grate on Leda’s nerves. 
They’re not entirely wrong, she mused, watching the clip cycle through her Instagram feed for the eighth time. I really do look like a bitch.
Ollie got asked about Leda a lot.
In all honesty, he liked answering questions about Leda, enjoyed telling people about how they met and what she was like and yes, they are in a long-term relationship and no, they’re not really interested in threesomes right now, thank you though, that’s very kind. It was a refreshing change of pace from the questions he used to get about the best way to kill a dragon and how many dragons he thought lived in the New York subway system and what it felt like to be burned by dragonfire (decapitation, none anymore, very bad). 
It was easier, too, to gush about his girlfriend in an interview with The New Yorker than it was to stave off questions about when he was planning to rejoin the Vox Populi or why he’d chosen Evendale of all places to retire.
Mostly, though, Ollie liked to talk about Leda because he knew that his fans—it was weird that he had fans, but that was what they were, really—were not always kind to her. 
He did his best to defend her on social media, combing through Instagram and Twitter with pleas to leave his girlfriend alone, to stop doxxing her and calling her awful names. But for every cruel comment he took down, ten more would spawn in its place. 
“It’s fine,” Leda would say, gently extricating Ollie’s phone from his vise-like grip. “They’re just Internet trolls. Forget them.”
“You shouldn’t have to put up with these horrible things because of me.”
At that, Leda would cradle a warm hand against his cheek. “I have everything covered. I promise.” She’d pause, then, and add, almost to herself, “No LSD needed.” 
Ollie never quite understood what that last part meant, but he liked how Leda looked when she said it, liked watching that sly smile unfurl from the rightmost corner of her lips even though the joke flew right over his head. He’d try to draw it out, sometimes, by assuring her that he kept his body in prime condition and had no intention of throwing off its chemical balance with highly addictive hallucinogens, thank you very much. If he got it right, she’d laugh, and it was like watching a stormy sky break for a single, unfiltered ray of sunlight, like getting drunk for the first time and feeling absolutely, utterly unbreakable. 
He frowned back down at his phone, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet so that his legs wouldn’t start to cramp. The text from Reggie was still open, the last in a long chain of pleas and justifications: The position is there for you, if you want it.
Ollie considered for a moment, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair before typing out his response.
Ollie deserves better.
It was a thought that gnawed at Leda’s mind constantly, chewing noisily through the edges of her sanity like the silkworms that her grandfather used to keep in their living room when Leda was seven, loud in the way that the crunch crunch crunch of insect mandibles on mulberry leaves would fill her seven-year-old ears as she tossed and turned in bed. 
It was hard, not to think it—especially now, as Leda balanced two pairs of chopsticks across the peel-off lids of the cup noodles on the counter, letting them sit as she rinsed out the kettle and dumped it unceremoniously into the top rack of the dishwasher to dry. Ollie was a good man—the best man, the kind who wept openly at baby animal videos and worked extra shifts so that the other EMTs could take the night off, the kind who asked himself what he could do to make the world a better place and then did it. He deserved more than a dinky one-bedroom apartment with an empty refrigerator and a bathroom door that jammed, sometimes, and a girlfriend who loved him, not for his heroism, but in spite of it. 
Leda sighed, sliding heavily down the kitchen cabinets to sit on the floor, her legs splayed haphazardly across the tile. She leaned her head against the cool wood behind her, listening to the steady sound of running water as Ollie showered. 
It was funny, in a distinctly unfunny way, how often she thought about breaking up with him—not because she wanted to, but because it felt like everyone else was waiting for her to do it. Even her sister had admitted, once, that she hadn’t expected them to last nearly as long as they already had. 
“Not that I think you can’t make it work, if that’s what you want,” Lily had said, peering owlishly over the rim of her latte. “It’s just—he asks a lot from you, you know?” 
Leda set her own mug of coffee down with enough force that she half-expected it to shatter. “Ollie isn’t a job, Lily.” 
“So then why is he asking you to give up yours?”
Leda scoffed. “It’s not like my job was all that great to begin with. Besides, the new firm in Ohio’s nice.”
“It’s tiny, Leda. And you’ll be making a fraction of what you’re making now. You can’t seriously be giving up New York for that?”
“So what if I am? People leave New York and downgrade all the time—you did.”
“Yeah, once I had kids. You’re still young, Leda; it would be insane to leave the city right when you’re about to make junior partner,” Lily said. “Why would you risk your entire future on Ollie when there are plenty more just like him?”
Leda hadn’t known how to respond to that. How could she possibly explain what Ollie was to her, how every time he looked at her he would smile like he was seeing an unpolluted night sky for the first time, how she’d wake up every morning to see him drooling into the pillow beside her and feel so afraid of the brittleness in her heart? No words in any language were sufficient enough to describe what it was like when they watched movies together and Ollie would ask her to explain the plot, how he’d listen to her talk like her words were more important than anything happening on the screen. 
Ollie had offered to stay when she’d first learned of her promotion, had offered to keep rising through the ranks of the Vox Populi even though his hands shook every time he picked up a sword and his inbox was filled with unsent emails to the Department of Homeland Security requesting tanks instead of spears and fighter jets instead of crossbows. But secretly, Leda had been relieved to leave the city behind. A part of her had always chafed against having to share Ollie with the world, against being the second priority of a man who felt the need to carry the fate of the world in his hands and his hands only. 
In Evendale, Leda didn’t have to share. Without the Vox Populi to shove Ollie into the national spotlight, he was hers, and hers alone. (Leda was selfish like that.) What, then, could she say to make her sister understand that she had better things, now, than money and status and prestige?
“Because he’s Ollie,” she’d said finally, when the silence between them had stretched too thin. “Because he’s mine.”
Guilt was something Ollie was all too familiar with. 
He’d been carrying it with him for years, draped over his shoulders like a heavy cape. There was the creeping, bone-cold guilt of barely managing to graduate high school, pinned to his chest by the silent disapproval of his father, who’d simply left the room when Ollie had announced that he was accepting a place among the Vox Populi instead of applying to community college; the tremulous, searing guilt of slaying a dragon in the Bronx and finding a nest of still-warm eggs that he’d had to deliver, now orphaned, to the zoo; the sour, churning guilt of turning in his two weeks’ notice to the Vox Populi and leaving the people of New York to fend for themselves; the prickling, insistent guilt of watching Leda call the law firm she’d dedicated years of her life to, clawing her way up the corporate ladder, only to resign. 
And now, he felt the sticky guilt of his reply to Reggie’s texts settling over his skin, replacing the sweat he’d just washed away in the shower. Was he letting down the wrong people by making this decision? Should he have discussed it with Leda before making a choice? Would it have been fair of him to ask her at all? 
Ollie yanked, hard, on the bathroom door (it got stuck, sometimes) and blinked, surprised to find Leda sitting on the kitchen floor. She looked up from her phone, giving him an obvious once-over as he stepped out of the bathroom in a pair of old sweatpants, his shirt still bundled in his fist. He flexed a little to make her laugh. 
“I made ramen,” she offered, pointing above her head to the cup noodles on the counter and carefully not looking at the kitchen table, where he’d left the letter from the Vox Populi. It had been a short note, reiterating what Reggie had already conveyed to him over text: he had been invited to head up the New York branch of the guild—a high honor, especially for someone who had already retired. 
Ollie pulled his shirt over his head and drifted over to the kitchen counter, peeling off the paper lids and stirring both cups of noodles with his chopsticks before handing one to Leda and sliding to the floor with a grunt. He sat with his leg pressed against hers, reveling quietly in the comfort of her body next to his as she leaned into his warmth. 
 “Ramen for breakfast is an interesting choice,” he said. 
Leda sighed, resting her head onto Ollie’s shoulder as she peered mournfully into her own Styrofoam cup. “The fridge is empty. I had to improvise.”
Ollie laughed. “We could have made congee, at least.”
Leda didn’t say anything, didn’t throw back a witty barb like he’d expected. Ollie wondered, suddenly, if she had read the Vox Populi letter while he was in the shower, if that was what she was thinking about, if she was waiting for him to offer an explanation. Before he could, though, she spoke again. 
“Let’s go grocery shopping,” she said with feigned lightness, failing to hide the strain in her voice. 
Ollie frowned and brushed a finger under Leda’s chin, gently turning her head so that he could look at her. 
The expression on Leda’s face was one he recognized, one he’d worn countless times on his own face whenever an unknown number with a Manhattan area code would flicker onto Leda’s phone. It was a small look, big enough only for one word: stay.
Ollie reached for Leda’s hand, lacing their fingers together to squeeze tightly. He hoped that in the lines of his palm and the brush of his thumb against the back of her hand, she could read what he meant when he replied. 
“Okay.”
(Later, when Ollie went to throw their empty ramen cups away, he plucked the letter from the kitchen table and slipped that into the trash, too.)
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revvnant · 6 months
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i sit and stew on a post so potent about the victim blaming that goes on in wider fandom headcanons about these characters that goes unnoticed because it's never overt or even intentional and i eat my hands because it's the jumpscare games for kids with their parents' credit cards.
#oh boy six a.m.! ( ooc )#|| the shortest form of the post is that.#|| people would rather will be insane and believe he's doing his best for those kids.#|| than entertain the possibility that he was an angry man like so many angry men.#|| and when you tip that domino. it does not stop falling.#|| if he loved and supported his kids why did michael act out that way? was it just his fault?#|| and i say this as someone who also takes mike to task for the bullying and fratricide but like.#|| to paint a picture of the perfect afton house. to say those three kids were consistently loved and treated well.#|| is to say what happened to them was pure happenstance.#|| which leaves a sour taste in my mouth and makes me kinda nauseous.#|| better that michael is just a bully and elizabeth was beloved and what happened to her was an accident.#|| and not a result of neglect and endangerment.#|| it feels like rolling a rock uphill to go into the tags every time and see how william was a loving parent.#|| and it also denies the reality that. your parent can love you and abuse you. it happens so often.#|| sometimes a parent will think they're doing what's best for you and they'll hold you dear in their heart.#|| and the physical manifestation of that love is nevertheless deeply harmful.#|| if will must be out of touch with reality why isn't it the idea that he did nothing wrong with his kids when that isn't at all true.#|| three dead kids all at his facilities but it's because michael was a bully elizabeth didn't listen and ennard just Did That.#|| not because evan had his party at a place he hated. or william brought his daughter to the premiere of his child killing machine.#|| gwuhhhh bluhhh GEHHHHHHHH. AAAAAAAAAAA.#negativity ///
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moviestarmartini · 6 days
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visca barça at least we aren’t fascists💙❤️
come off anon and say this to my face so i can block you and keep my peace as i have been doing because i don’t like conflict.
i literally abstain of commenting on the disgusting things i’ve heard culers say about us because i simply dislike speaking ill of others and i’m able to respect completely whatever club you support, unlike whoever sent this. and this is probably the last instance i’ll do comments like this.
to have things like this dropped into my ask box when i’ve been nothing but respectful is insulting. this reason why i disliked football in the first place growing up and why im hesitant when barcelona fans follow me. if you follow me, unfollow and stop bothering me. and overall fuck off tremendously.
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h20milk · 2 years
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mielgf · 1 year
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wishing you all comfort, love, and contentment in 2023, whatever that may look like for you ✨❤️ happy new year!!
#talk time#just gonna take these tags to reflect on my 2022 if you’re proud of something from your year PLEASE let me know#this year i completely stepped out of my comfort zone and moved to a new city (a BIG city)#i grew mentally and emotionally so much during the first half of the year working and the final quarter back at school in a new place#i have become so much more confident and content with the person i am i have opened myself up more to others#my friendships grew stronger as i became a better communicator and less guarded with my affection#i made two new amazing friends (my roommates) and am so excited to see where those friendships go in the coming years#even in the lowest of times i coped and handled it so much more healthily than i ever have and that was how i knew i’m really getting better#i am so passionate about what i study and about my hobbies and interests#i worked hard on setting boundaries better and while there is def room for improvement i’m celebrating the victory nevertheless#i am the healthiest i have ever been both mentally and physically bc i truly prioritised my own well being this year#i have become much more gentle with myself#and while there are obviously fallbacks and bad points: i am so so proud of the progress i made in 2022#i love my family i love my friends and i love myself#i did my absolute best this year in every domain and for that i am grateful to myself#this is the first new year in a while that i have been coming in so unbelievably hopeful#and dare i say even happy… damn
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krakaslaug · 1 year
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I'm so confused... why do people like lotl and think we're getting any points with this band? The lyrics don't make any sense or have any meaning, they sing with a terrible german accent (just sing german at that point) and they don't really commit to the metal genre. The only thing they got going for them is their vibe/look. I mean, please enlighten me, maybe I got it wrong since so many germans seem to like them lol
I should probably preface this by saying that they've been a long time favourite band of mine so I'm super biased and can only give you my subjective opinion so yeahhh...
I genuinely think they make great music and I think none of your arguments actually are arguments. For one, I don't think the accent is that bad. It's way worse when they're just talking instead of singing lol, and it doesn't impact the overall quality of the music at all. There's worse things than having an accent. Personally I find Chris Harms' voice very soothing actually, at times operatic and strong when he does scream vocals. I think they're all good with their instruments too.
Them not committing to the metal genre is also not a real critique imo? They're very self-aware of where they stand in the scene, there's plenty of instances where they make jokes about it themselves (even in the esc bewerbungsgespräch video itself) and they've said themselves that they just want to do what they want, that they want to be their most authentic and that had them happen to fall somewhere into glam metal. Idk if you just mean Blood and Glitter in particular but there's a lot of variety in their songs from way heavier stuff to songs like See You Soon. Blood and Glitter, I would say, is a lot more "mainstream" even, so it just rides that line.
The song itself is about life btw. Chris Harms said himself that the Blood part is nothing negative. It's about life that flows through you. The glitter, the beauty of life and experiences. The up and down of life.
And yeah. Of course their looks play a part in it.
I guess overall - and I mean no disrespect to any of the other contestants. I found positive things about all of them (except maybe Ikke Hüftgold...) - but we had the choice between not one but two Sad Boy Ballads and other songs that were pretty generic within their own genres. And with LotL Germany would send something interesting again. Something that is not pop, that's a little heavier, flashier and sticks out with both visuals and sound. Especially after the whole thing around Electric Callboy last year where the critique was that the other six songs were all the same with little to no variety at all. So even if LotL hadn't won this, I think, personally, that this year was a huge improvement to last year. But as a fan I'm incredibly happy!
I'll stop here because I feel like I'm justifying myself when I don't have to, and I happened to see that I'm not the only one who got this exact ask, so yeeeeah. I'm love them sorry not sorry. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to ramble for a bit hehe
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muirneach · 7 months
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‘waaa toronto subway map is so sparse compared to other cities’ SHUT UPPPP THEYRE NOT SHOWING THE STREETCAR LINES IN THAT MAP. THEY BALANCE IT OUT. christ alive
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immortal-cataclysm · 9 months
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Bandeeranza first kiss being taranza kidding bandees hand..nobody talk to me
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happi-tree · 11 months
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first anon is back again (me i wonder who! hm. we’ll never know) and everyone here is SO RIGHT you are genuinely such a bright light whenever i see you on my dash it’s like seeing a pretty flower i am glad you’re getting the love you deserve <3
WAAAAAAAA thank you so much 😭😭😭 You all mean the world to me and I am so beyond happy and grateful that my silly little presence on your dash is capable of making you happy :') Everyone on here is so lovely and I am giving you a billion hugs forever and ever and ever!!!
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thatonechocogirl · 2 years
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i drew miles morales :)
bro he’s so cute i don’t understand why people would dislike him
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spacejellyfish3 · 2 years
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sorry to burst the bubble but Clawdeen was never *canonically* confirmed nor was originally conceived as being lesbian.
she is one (for sure), it’s just not canon.
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gurorori · 9 months
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OMG REIGN IS HERE
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screampied · 3 months
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horny reader sending toji soapy titties pics when he's out so he gets home and makes her cum by just playing with her nipples and talking her through it :3
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۫ ⭒ toji talking you through an órgasm after you tease him with pics while he’s at work
warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, praise / mdni.
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you always loathed whenever toji had work, meaning he’d be gone for so many hours.
boredom always overtook you.
you’d be laid on the bed, specifically his side of the bed while having a staring contest with the ceiling. nevertheless, you get an idea so you decide to take a nice relaxing bubble bath. with a good thirty minutes of straight silence—you reach for your phone, snapping a good two pictures of tits. the pretty bubbles of soap that ran down, you bring a hand up to give your nipple a soft squeeze as the camera flashed before sending it to toji.
giggling, you watch as the message immediately goes straight to read, meaning toji opened your picture immediately.
of course, it took toji about thirty seconds to actually reply — all he replies with is with a subtle, “That’s cute. I’ll be home in a few.”
deeply in thought, you pondered what that was about, you just couldn’t wait for toji to finally be home. you clearly missed him and even changed into something pretty for him.
nothing too risqué….
just one of his oversized shirts, you knew he loved whenever you walked around with nothing but one of his clothings. after drying yourself off and moisturizing with candied smelling lotion. you crawled back into the bed and as if right on cue, toji came through the door.
“toji!” you’d beam, stretching your arms out and about to hug him.
“nah baby, don’t touch me.” he grumbles in a gruff voice—you took in his scent, a strong rousing cologne scent that left you craving for more. he got into the bed and you gasp once he lifts up your ; his shirt. “you know you’re in trouble right?”
you grow quiet as he snuggles up against you, sliding off his shoes before bringing your straight into his arms. “what for?”
“girl,” he utters in a rasp, you let off a soft moan once toji drags you towards his lap—you’re facing the opposite way of him, and a rough hand of his grabs onto your right tit. “you’ve got some nerve, princess. not only were you touching yourself while i wasn’t here, but you also sent pictures of yourself to me while i was at work,” and you start to softly pant, feeling him swipe a thumb against your perky nipple. “what if i was around people huh? and they saw my cute baby all exposed ‘n provocative?”
“i’m…s-sorry, you huffed out a frustrated breath. his touch was so warm. you started to feel yourself getting heated, in that kind of way. the way that makes you drenched between your thighs. “you were gone all day ‘n i thought i’d show you myse—”
“i understand princess but you shouldn’t be touching yourself in the first place,” and for a moment his voice grew smooth and tender—you slump your head back against his chest before he moved his free hand towards between your legs. “what’d i tell you about touching yourself, girl? besides, ya can’t even do it properly.”
you heard the low snicker follow shortly afterwards, and he was so smug and condescending.
“ya can’t even touch yourself right, what makes you think you can make yourself cum?” he murmurs against your neck before playfully licking a stripe against your tender skin.
you start to whimper, feeling him squeeze against your left breast, another rubbing against your panties.
“i-i can.” you pout, intaking a sharp breath from the sheer warmth to of his touch.
“baby, y’er fingers are fuckin’ useless,” he chuckles. you frown from his teasing before you let off a soft moan once you feel toji’s thick fingers graze and brush against the middle part of your panties. “gotta do everything for you,” he sighs, planting a kiss against your collarbone. he felt you breathing back against him. you gnaw on your lip as toji’s still playing with your breasts. “did you touch down here?”
your breathing continued to pick up, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a brief second. “um, no.”
“um, yeah,” he hisses. toji’s jaw tightens and you let off a needy mewl once he runs a thumb down your slit before feeling it slowly sink in—you’re so wet it happens so easily, and your heads just lazily laid back against his chest. “if you didn’t touch yourself, how come you’re all drenched?”
“i was—”
“dumb soaked liars shouldn’t speak,” he cuts you off, and you moan once he presses a little pressure against your hardened nipple, feeling a bit a few droplets of water trickle down. “i don’t hold grudges though, especially not with you, baby,” and his words were tame and smooth right against your ear. “but i feel kinda bad. least i can do is give you an orgasm huh? ya want that, princess?”
you sniffle, giving his wrist a firm tug. “yesyes, please. touch me more.”
“shouldn’t do shit after that little slutty stunt you pulled,” he growls, and you moan once he starts to maneuver small circles against your cunt—two fingers now softly making its way inside. toji’s got your panties shoved to the side and your bottom lip quavers. “but…i don’t wanna make my baby more needy than she has to be.”
“toji,” you’d sulk, and the warmth of his breath forevermore continued to blow against your ear whenever he laughed. “make me cum, p-please.”
he was so smooth with his fingers, adding just enough pressure to where you’re feeling yourself grow hot and bothered each second.
“no one should see these girls but me,” he snickers, giving your nipple a soft squeeze. you were so sensitive, especially there—yet he knew that. “her too.” toji coyly grins, the top of his fingers prod against clit as he feels you bare around his digits. “can’t leave ya by yourself can i? i can just imagine how many others times you were here waiting, playing with yourself, hmpf.”
“it— it was just this one time.” you moaned, immense tension building up. a sudden breeze of from the cool air danced against your skin. toji smiles, knowing each exact angle to hit you with his fingers.
you remain sojourned against his chest, and toji brings his chin towards your right shoulder—you conceal an incoming moan once he’s just lightly ramming his fingers in and out of you. it’s sloppy, the plethora rings of squelches sang in harmony and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. “and it’ll be the last right, baby?”
“yes. promise, toji please.” you’d hiccup, and as he still has one of your breasts in the inner depths of his hand, your legs trembled in longing desire.
“okay,” he purrs, nipping a kiss towards your neck. you pierce your nails into his arm before after a few long tension building moments. you cum, and you cum hard. you eye sight hazy, swallowing thickly you panted heavily. “good girl, good messy girl. relax.”
you huffed and puffed quietly, legs stuttering and shaking with such pleasure that you’re at an almost lost for words. so embarrassing you could barely pronounciate his name. your words broke and broke. “t-to-joiiii.”
“poor baby,” he whispers, fingers still shoved into your pussy. it stays there for the time being before you feel him curl his index finger just a few inches upward towards your sweet nub and you choke out a cry. “ooh. that’s a good little girl,” and his praises went straight to your heart. toji’s hand caressingly trailed down your chest towards your tummy before clearing his throat. “this won’t happen again, will it?”
“m-maybe.” you slur, and you’re taken aback once he turns you over to give you a chaste kiss.
toji stares at you before groaning. “thought you’d say that. what a fuckin’ shame,” and you gasp out a noise once toji makes you land on your chest before giving your ass a playful spank. “i’ve been too nice, princess. now i gotta really show you what your pictures did to me. so arch for me.”
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coconutdays · 6 months
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love line
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s. on a very drunk night, satoru exposes your crush on the famous mma fighter, and friend of yours, toji zenin
w.c. 12.3k
w. fem! reader, mma!toji! x reader , fluff!, smut!
a/n: this might not be proofread well but I hope yall enjoy. im very in love with this man!
"I can't believe I lost that stock today!"
you're out having drinks with your friends at a fancy bar in shibuya when satoru gets shitfaced drunk. the matter is nothing new. he's the lightweight of the group and doesn't care about getting home most of the time because he knows either you or suguru will take charge and take him home.
you're taking frequent sips of your whiskey as you watch one of the country's most successful business owners mope over a small, so very minuscule, fraction of his wealth fly by. suguru is sitting next to you at the booth and exchanges a look of 'idiot' in reference to the white haired man's sad life story. sukuna is in front of you and no look needs to be exchanged because he simply acts on his thoughts and gives satoru a smack on the back of his head.
and toji's at the center of the booth, smooshed between shoko and satoru. he's looking at satoru in mild amusement, a small smirk on his face at the fool's stupidity as he too drinks from a glass of whiskey. he's wearing a low scooped black long sleeve that probably costs a thousand dollars and rightfully so, it makes him look so handsome. the price nothing compared to the pay he makes as a world champion mma fighter. 
you've known him for the better part of a year, a bit more actually. satoru met him near the end of your college career on a business whim with his father and has since made him a member of your friend group. you're not as close as you wish you could be, the immense nerves you have in fear of him even getting an inkling that you're attracted to him have always stopped you from initiating a more than necessary amount of text conversations or random phone calls. satoru could do that, you couldn't. god, you've even seen suguru have more dms with the raven haired fighter than you. even in the group chat all of you share, you can't bring yourself to connect with him aside from teaming up to tease satoru or sukuna. 
the last thing you ever conversed with him on your phone was a conversation you, surprisingly, started. he had told you about this one taco place and said you would love it based on your shared interest of food. when you told him you'd try it, he had told you, 'better send me a picture when you're there.' and you did. he had sent a laughing emoji when he asked if you liked the food and you said, 'I'd step on lime juice covered shards of glass to eat this again.'
that was the last thing you'd see in your messages between each other. 
he was close to four years older than all of you, except for sukuna, they were only a year apart. he had this endearing scar across his lip that curved so achingly whenever he smiled or grinned. he was built gorgeously, his back a sight to behold whenever you got to see him fight. and his eyes, fuck, the bright mix between grey and green always had you throwing a fit in your bed and wishing you could have him. 
nevertheless, you go back to paying attention to satoru. 
"you profit from so many other stocks satoru. that one stock is just a random occurrence."
"but the ladies won't want to go out with a guy who loses even one stock!" he looks up from where he's sprawled across the table, pouting at you.
"the fact that you're a millionaire at the age of 23 already gets enough ladies." you roll your eyes, unable to help the twitch of your lips at the sight of a little bit of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth
"it's not enough." he mutters
this time, you and sukuna share a deadpan face and you flick satoru's forehead, leaning only slightly across the table.
"yeah you're right. satoru gojo is such a loser for losing a stock, none of the girls are gonna want him now."
out of the corner of your eye, you see toji huff a little laugh at your antics, it makes your heart skip a beat a little that he finds you, even if its mostly satoru, funny.
"don't mock me!" satoru's cheeks are red as he scowls at you the best he can.
"she's not mocking." sukuna snorts, taking a swig of his beer.
"yea she is!" satoru points at you, "I never mock you about toji!"
everybody in the group stills except for satoru, who looks like he's still revved up about the subject.
much like cassie's reaction in euphoria when rue asked her how long she had been fucking nate, all you could do was nervously laugh.
"what–what are you talking about?"
you can feel your entire body starting to shake in fear. it was like you were in elementary again and some mean friend of yours was going to expose your crush on the popular boy of your grade. the fear was something you never thought you'd experience again.
"don't act stupidddd." satoru drags on, as if toji fucking zenin wasn't right next to him, "you're always talking about how bad you want toji and that ' I wish I could talk to him' bullcrap!" he says the last part in imitation of you with a high pitched voice.
suguru is staring at satoru in terror. sukuna is looking at you, in peril for you. shoko looks like she mentally checked out so she couldn't feel your embarrassment.
...and toji is staring at you, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, like he doesn't know what to say.
your phone is in your pocket. check. your purse is on your lap. check. satoru can pay for your tab when he comes to his senses. check.
all you can do is abruptly get up and start to dash away, ignoring the yell for you from suguru. you don't look back, pure peril and adrenaline taking over your body as you make it out of the bar as quickly as possible, thanking whatever god that you chose to wear the easiest pair of heels to walk today.
the metro, the metro, the metro.
you look around for a quick second, only taking a second to remember what way the metro was before you rush in its direction. you feel a buzz coming from your pocket when you do, and you can only figure its one of your friends, trying to get you to come back.
you ignore it and rush down the escalator to the metro, making a glance behind you and noting that nobody was behind you. thank god. however, it doesn't stop your pace and your heels click and clack you all the way to a seat on the train to your part of town. 
fuck.
your entire body feels like its on fire and melting. 
toji knows you like him.
fuck.
suguru 5 missed calls
shoko girl where did you go?
sukuna 1 missed call dude, since when do you run track
you have to stop yourself from bashing your head on the pole in front of you. shakily, you press on suguru's contact to call him. you would tell him you were going to home so he wouldn't need to worry. what's the worst that could happen by now anyway. 
"y/n? hello?"
"I'm on the train home." you breathe
"that fast?" he doesn't exclaim, he's not the type to show his surprise so blatantly like his counterpart but you can hear his concern at the fact.
"yeah." you murmur, stomach churning now that the adrenaline's worn off.
suguru sighs, "satoru is scared you're going to kill him now."
and you can hear his wails in the background. 'no she's going to come after me!' 'I need to up my security!' 'is that her on the phone?! y/n pleasseee forgive me!'
your nose scrunches in annoyance and you blurt, "I'm not going to kill you stupid idiot!"
"she says she's not going to kill you." suguru says to satoru and you can hear what you presuppose is suguru pushing the drunk fiend off of him before he continues talking to you, "about toji–"
you feel your stomach drop at the mention of the name, he's still there with them, fully aware of your feelings for him
"ah! don't wanna hear it!"
the beginning of a call to your name from suguru went ignored as you immediately pulled your phone back and pressed the little red button.
the sky had literally fallen for you and now you had to deal with the aftermath—which you weren’t doing right this second, due to what you just did to your friends, but you’d do it eventually. being an adult made sure you had to face it sometime soon. its just that toji zenin learning from satoru gojo that you had a massive crush on him had not ever been something you expected. hell you never expected him to find out in any sort of way, ever. god, he was never supposed to know.
well, your fun was over, you had to move on now. if you wanted your friend group to stay normal and go back to the way it was, the looming existence of your feelings for the world renowned fighter had to die. you could tough it through that, you could come back and say ‘i thought it over and don’t have feelings for you anymore toji so don’t worry about acting weird with me. we’re casual friends like we’ve always been.’
a particular rattle of the train had you planting your feet on the floor purposefully and waiting for it to fully stop before you got up. you were five minutes from your apartment now, the walk you started now would pass by in a flash and you’d get to wallow in your misery soon.
ordering takeout sounded nice and so did watching your favorite show, especially after a warm shower, it had been quite chilly tonight. 
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you had no room to really think about your predisposition in regards to toji zenin the next day, having to attend work then go to a work party afterwards at some high end restaurant/bar located at the top floor of a skyscraper overlooking tokyo. at work, you had to host various meetings and delegate new responsibilities you planned out the day before to your peers. it was all very hectic since it was all a completely new project. you had barely looked at your phone and even if you did, there wouldn’t be much to fret over, your friends had busy lives too. and right after, you had to head straight home and get ready for the party later that evening. 
you were sporting a tight black dress with light red flowers embellished across it later that night while you drank champagne and conversed with your coworkers. it had been a decent night so far and you had photos taken of you along with your peers, they’d probably be posted on the company website or social media. 
there had been some interesting work tea to listen in on too, your rival company was involved in it too and you were smushed against your coworkers in a red leather lined booth with dim lighting to listen in on all of it. it was more than worthy of your time by the end of it, you deemed. you would have to tell shoko and sukuna about it whenever you got the chance next time. yes, sukuna liked tea, he was an ass who loved hearing about ass things happening. 
the craving for a new glass of champagne sent you to the bar the moment the story ended, so you sat up on one of the chairs lining it while you waited for the bartender to get to you. you could see your ceo already getting shit-faced from where you were and it was funny, she always did that and always managed to get embarrassed the next time everyone saw her in the office. 
“are you part of that office party?”
a large and handsome figure suddenly appeared before you, blocking the view of your boss. he was wearing a rather expensive looking black suit with a silky blue dress shirt under, all of which couldn’t hide the obvious hard and sturdy muscles under them due to the complimentary tailoring. when you took in his face, you had to hold back the urge to widen your eyes. he was excessively good looking, with sharp and devilish features sketched across his face, intertwining hand in hand with his semi-long brown wavy hair pushed back and away from his face, save for a singular pretty strand falling near his brow and down his cheek. and that scar near his eye, it seemed so familiar���
you had to blink yourself back into reality when you realized you were taking a bit too long to answer his question. 
“yes,” you finally responded, trying your best to remain neutral and politely smile at him
he leaned against the open spot of the bar table between your seat and the empty one behind him, one hand in his pocket as he smiled down at you, “you’re very beautiful.”
your spit got caught in your throat at the blatant admission, this time unable to hide the way your head reeled back a little and started sporting a rising heat on your cheeks in slight shock, “oh–i–thank you.”
his smile grew wider at your flustered state and he reached a hand out for you to shake, “aizen sosuke.”
so at to remain polite, you shook his hand and repeated your name back to him in return for his, but in reality your head was falling in on itself
him.
fuck.
that’s aizen sosuke, the other world renowned mma fighter that you were very aware of due to his competitive nature and rivalry with toji. as far as you were aware, toji absolutely hated him, and you were sure aizen did too. anytime the rivalry came up into the conversation you saw toji’s eyes darken and his posture straighten in seething hate for the man. if satoru felt like getting on his nerves, as he did with everyone, he always knew to mention the tall brunette to get a visceral reaction out of him. it was bad. wait–
they have a fight tomorrow.
oh god, this was all types of fucked up. you've been pining after toji this whole year and he just found out yesterday and now you're talking to his rival who's very obviously flirting with you.
...but he was aizen sosuke, aside from that, and he just called you beautiful.
“is there any particular celebration happening?” he tilted his head to the side a little in curiosity 
“no, not this time,” you breathed, trying to shake the nerves off, “my boss just likes to treat us frequently and…well herself.”
“is that the only occasion where you get treated as of late?”
suave
and you can’t help the small knowing smile starting to creep up your lips, “as of late, yes, although she mostly does it in drinks.”
“dinner isn’t often?” he leans a little closer, his lips quirking up a little
“no,” you shake your head, aware of the way your eyes are smiling back at him too.
“allow me to treat you then,” he says confidently, watching as the bartender slides you your champagne
“In exchange for…?” you quirk a brow up at him as you take a sip
“what are you willing to give?” he bites back with a canine smile, still looming over you and infringing himself a little into your space even.
“nothing.” you snark back smoothly, pressing a finger into the middle expanse of his chest. he’s really sturdy, you note before continuing, “dinner with me should be a prize enough.”
he laughs at your response handsomely, reeling away from your space in accordance with the finger of yours pushing him away, “i’ll pay for everything. hell, send me the receipt for your outfit if you feel like it. i’m sure some sort of gratitude will overcome you.”
“ravenous,” you tut your glass in his direction, “i’ll politely decline then mr sosuke.”
“you haven’t even allowed yourself to grace over the thought of spending a night in my sheets,” he’s leaned down to speak so sensually next to your ear, “if your line of work is a stress, i can make you forget all about it.”
“i’ve allowed myself to grace it,” you speak back lowly, matching his game, “and i can only see you adding onto my stress by the end of it.”
“you’re oddly confident about that,” he smiles deviously, turning his head so that you’re face to face with him, “i aim to please, if any.”
“to please?” you question in haughty disbelief, squinting your eyes playfully at him
“to please,” he’s still smiling, eyes fleeting to your lips for a second, “i could relay the details if you’d like.”
“that’s unecessary,” you laugh at his boldness, turning your head away from his, “but it’s not something i’m interested in. im only looking for stability right now.”
“how unfortunate for the both of us tonight then,” he retreats back into his space before reaching into his pocket and taking out his phone, then splaying it out in his hand for you to take, “at least leave me your number. i can be capable of stability for the right woman.”
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you feel your phone buzzing erratically that night, when you’ve washed away the night’s events and lay comfortably in your bed with a glass of water cradled to you. upon first looking at your messages, you were greeted by a paparazzi picture of you, courtesy screenshot from gojo, and aizen speaking at the bar. it was one of you smiling and looking up and him while he was leaning down, face inches away from yours as he returned your toothy grin.
satoru img_736 ?????? is that aizen sosuke?! dude are you fucking him rn
sukuna  take one of his trophy belts when you come back home
shoko lol he looks hot in blue
suguru  satoru, aren’t you supposed to be on your flight back from dubai right now?
satoru first class has excellent cell service ha and y/n hasn’t answered aizen def has his hands busy rn
shoko it’s only been five minutes since you sent that picture plus she’s at her work party, i think. she probably just met him there
satoru who cares bud looks like he’s ready to pounce 
sukuna heard he likes bdsm shit
satoru send pics of his paddle lol y/n
suguru both of you are despicable
shoko let us know if he has good stamina
suguru the three of you
all those messages had been sent ten minutes ago and you gaped at your friends’ mischief
y/n  I AM NOT WARMING AIZEN SOSUKE’S BED RN!
satoru liar, he’s in your mouth rn isn’t he
y/n  literally shut up toru i’m in my bed. no aizen near
sukuna  sure you are you looked real horned up smiling at him in the pics
y/n LMAO  he was a little funny ok, i couldn’t help laughing
shoko oh he was funny hm
suguru  actually worried a little at that statement wdym he was a little funny
y/n im going to crucify all of you he tried getting me to warm his bed and was very smooth abt it, but i said no gave him my number though :p since he asked for it
satoru was that before or after he told you you have great boobs img_737 could not have been more obvious about it
the stupid texts from your friend had you laughing out loud and setting down your glass of water on your bedside table before you pressed on the microphone button and sent a loud, giggly voice message for emphasis of your previous point.
“I didn’t fuck aizen! and he didn’t need to tell me i have great boobs, i saw him staring at them the entire time.”
sukuna you are not living this down if we see hickeys on you tomorrow
satoru what he said ^^
and there came the realization, 
toji and aizen’s fight was tomorrow
and all of you always showed up to toji’s fights ever since you befriended him
hell, fuck, you hadn’t even remembered he was in this group chat too. fuck fuck fuck. was this good? was this bad? he hadn’t said anything and he never really took too long to answer sometimes. no, this was the night before a fight, he’s probably already knocked out right now considering the late hour. but still, what of when he woke up to the messages tomorrow? would this help ease the knowledge of your being into him? oh she’s already flirting with some guy she’s not into me as much as a i thought so i dont feel as awkward around her anymore. but what if he thought you were doing this purposefully to get a reaction out of him and that you were so obsessed with him, you did it for that sole reason. you didn’t even want to come to the fight anymore. could you get out of it somehow? no, stupid satoru knows you’re free tomorrow and that would add more drama to your ‘up and dash’ incident from the bar yesterday night. 
you turned around and flailed on your bed, screaming into your pillow in the process.
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regrettably, you show up to toji’s fight the following afternoon, trying your best to suppress the notion that aside from having to be near toji later, that aizen was going to see you too, and that whole ordeal would be something different entirely for you to deal with.
you dressed pretty well, you always did, but you added a little more effort than the usual when picking your outfit for the day. it was ufc fight night worthy and showed a generous amount of skin, the pictures you would upload later that night to instagram would be amazing. 
sukuna snickered when he saw you, pulling you in for a quick friendly hug as he said, “wanted zenin to see that you really didn’t fuck sosuke?”
you gaped at him and held back a smile as you smacked him with your purse, “i will hurt you ‘kuna.”
“try me, idiot,” he bites back with a snarky smile before sinking into one of the cage-side seats toji always managed to get for you guys. you had already said hi to the rest of your friends before getting to him and all felt normal until that dumbass made his dumb comment about your crush on toji. satoru, had of course, without a doubt, inspected you for hickeys and love bites immediately upon your arrival and had given you a suspicious look, as if to say, ‘you got away with it this time.’ he was always ridiculous like that, trying to cling onto random drama, even if he gaslit himself, all for his own fun. 
“i really did not expect to meet him last night at the bar,” you sighed after you sat down, taking in the bustling crowds of people gathering in the arena with him
“fuckin hilarous,” he all but barks evilly in amusement at your predicament before taking a swig of his beer, “paparazzi is gonna have a field day thinking you’re aizen’s girl now that you’re here.”
“WAIT!” 
you immediately sit upright at the realization and turn your body towards sukuna, jaw hung open and eyes wide in panic.
“holy shit. what the fuck.” you start having an existensial crisis and sukuna, the great friend he is starts snickering at your dilemma, finding humor in your panicked expression
“go sit near his side of the arena,” he jeers, “there’s some open seats.”
you run your hands down your face, stressed, “i thought the worst i had to deal with would be aizen seeing me here.”
“still is,” sukuna is still smirking at you evilly, “everything is shit about your day today.”
and then the lights dim and sporadic blue lights start sparkling across the arena
“get ready to say hi to your boyfriends,” sukuna teases with a canine grin before leaning over to see who would do their walkout first.
and it’s toji first.
he’s so beautiful and rugged, wearing skin tight black shorts that highlight every muscle underneath them and his eyes are glowing so pretty against the fluroscents, even if he has a murderous look on them right now. his staff are behind him as he walks through the arena, and looking at them almost distracts you from the way toji holds you in a cutthroat stare the moment he spots you, and only you.
you can hear satoru’s sly voice saying from near you, “nice.”
too scared to look away from toji, you can only speak to your friends without turning to address them, “why is toji giving me a death stare?”
“cause you fucked aizen,” satoru’s teasing lilt jeers
“yeah,” shoko agrees
“i did not fuck aizen,” you bite through gritted teeth as toji walks into the fighting cage, eyes still on you.
“tell that to him,” sukuna snickers
“don’t think about it too much,” suguru tries to comfort
then the lights starts blaring furiously again and aizen’s presence is announced throughout the entire arena. and you were really right about that suit being unable to hide those muscles, because without any clothing over them…they were enormous and mouth-watering.
all of you watch as he, accompanied by his staff too, walks to the cage, handsome smirk planted on his face. 
“would you look at that,” satoru starts, “he doesn’t have your scratch marks all over his back.”
“ha ha,” you sarcastically mutter back when aizen enters the cage and he situates himself in his side, taking in his surroundings, like those sitting in the cage side seats.
like you.
you know he’s spotted you because of the way his eyebrows raise in surprise and the wolfish smile that starts forming on his face the moment you make eye contact. and you know toji’s noticed too because of the way he turns to you too and keeps looking between you and the fighter in front of him.
satoru whistles while sukuna howls, both leaning down to elbow you from either side much to your annoyance
“scratch the paparazzi thinking youre here for aizen being the worst thing capable of happening today,” satoru sighs haughtily, “if toji loses, you’re in for it.”
you spin your head to him, panicked, “what?! is he gonna stop being my friend?!”
satoru shrugs, nonchalant, “don’t know, just keep watching sweetheart.”
so you did and it was unnerving.
when the fight started and toji and aizen started squaring up against each other, you could see aizen start speaking to him. his mouth was moving a little and a smile crept up on it when he jeered his chin in your direction, all of which you saw toji answer back with what looked like single word short answers and a sneer on his face.
“wonder what they’re talking about,” suguru questioned softly
“i have a small idea,” satoru said under his breath before toji threw the first punch and the chaos ensued.
the fight consisted of a lot of hisses and ows coming from everyone, including you, in the arena. toji and aizen were really putting in the work to beat the crap out of each other. ten minutes had passed and toji was already bleeding from his mouth and aizen had blood falling down his nose. both of their bodies were beat too, red splotches blossoming all over them as a reaction to the various kicks and punches both of them sent to each other. 
however it looked like it was reaching its cusp when aizen got toji in a headlock and muttered something while looking at you. 
which must have given toji enough energy to quickly peel himself off and knock his face in a couple of times. and when aizen stood up straight after it to counter, he was bleeding profusely from his mouth and smiled so devilshly at you before wandering into toji’s space again. 
“hot,” shoko commented while gnawing on a toothpick
and that continued, the smiles at you from him, with his questionably hot bleeding mouth while he sported a beating from toji or gave it to him. but it started dying down when toji actually started knocking him in so close to his own victory. and there wasn’t much aizen could do until toji pinned him down and forced him into submission,
all while aizen stared at you and even had the gall to wink while his loss was announced
satoru whistled again, “the balls on this guy. surprised you aren’t soaked right now.”
people were starting to filter out when the winner and loser were officially announced and were beginning to get escorted back to their locker rooms.
“come on,” sukuna muttered as he drank the last of his beer and got up with the rest of you to go to toji’s room.
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when all of you are rushed into toji’s locker room, you somehow wound up standing next to him, where he’s seated on a bench and wiping the blood off his face with a hand towel.
“congrats,” you mumble, along with the others
“what’d he say to you during the fight,” leered satoru, both of his hands in his pockets and his shades over his eyes again now that he doesn’t have to watch the fight.
“none of your business,” muttered toji after wiping his face again, “where’s my fucking water?”
“here sir, here,” one of his goonies said while weaving through the people in the room and nervously handing him a water bottle
“thanks,” he huffs with a small glare before opening the bottle and starting to chug from it
“who do you fight after this,” sukuna asks
toji shrugs and looks towards his manager, who then starts to explain the next sequence of events after this win. and it lasts for thirty minutes before everyone falls quiet and toji gets up abruptly
“alright, get out. ‘m gonna change,” he all but demands for everyone to leave ominously
and you listen to his words, letting the half closest to the door start to filter out before you make to move your feet and suddenly toji’s holding onto your arm.
“where do you think you’re going?” he huffs when the last person leaves the room and the door clicks shut
you feel like a deer caught in headlights and feel yourself start to grow nervous, “outside…to let you change?”
“you gonna fuck him?”
and you gaslight yourself into pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about, “who?”
he deadpans at you with bored and almost annoyed green eyes and you have to look away from him when you murmur, “no…i don’t know. listen, me having a thing for you isn’t that serious and if i entertain aizen it isn’t so you can finally notice me or something, i just–”
“when the fuck did i say i never noticed you before?”
your eyes widen and you didn’t know what to say
“what? you think it’s so easy for me to try and talk to your dumbass too?” he pulls you closer by the arm he’s already holding, scowl etched across his face
“what,” is the only thing you can get out in your nerves
toji glares at you, “when silver spoon said you wish you could talk to me, did it ever cross your smartass that i don’t know how to talk to you either?”
“no,” you let out meekly, struggling to make eye contact with him and feeling your heart rate go up by a million beats per minute
“so,” toji tugs on your arm again, “are you gonna fuck him?”
you look away to a locker near when you mumble, “do you not want me to?”
“no, i fucking don’t.”
“then i won’t.”
“great,” he lets go of you and now centers himself to stand in front of you, quirking a brow up when he asks, “you gonna let me take you out on a date?”
you have to fight the urge to fiddle with your hands as you look back up at him, “when?”
“tonight.”
“shouldn’t you rest after a fight!?” your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, pupils darting to the blood staining his lips
“not if i don’t feel like it,” he shrugs, before gaining a threatening aura, “or do you wanna bite the bullet and get lunch right now? you won’t have time to get a pretty dress on.”
panicked at his suggestion, you mindlessly put your hands against his chest and plead, “no! tonight is fine, tonight is fine!”
“thought so,” he huffs back at you, corners of his mouth quirking up a little 
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and put on a pretty dress you did, a red sultry one that teetered between innocence and sex. it had toji staring you down as you took the unfathombly large bouquet of flowers he brought for you from his arms and set it on your kitchen island.
“where are we going?” you turned to look at him while he drove you to whatever destination he had in mind for tonight, playing with the metal clasp of your handbag
toji had been leaned against the driver side door of his car, with one hand holding onto his chin while the other steered, he seemed oddly pensive.
“allen’s,” he gruffly swallowed before straightening up and putting both of his hands on the steering wheel. you weren’t surprised by the mention of the michelin star restaurant, he could afford it and had the status for it anyways
so you couldn’t help but speak, “are you nervous?”
his entire body tensed visibly and his eyes slightly widened, glancing at you for a half second before looking back at the road and relaxing, “what do you think smartass?”
a smile crept its way onto your face, “well i am too.”
“you gonna run away again?” he side eyed you with a slight gleam of mischief
your face flushed and your mouth gaped, turning to look at the road too now instead of at him, crossing your arms as you huffed, “what else was i supposed to do? not like you had anything to say either, had your mouth open like a fish when i got exposed…”
“least i didn’t run,” he huffed back
“well you didnt try to contact me after,” you sasssed, sensing his growing irritation
“you’re a real pain in my ass,” he glared at you, “you know that right?”
“and you’re not acting like the guy who just won a fight earlier today.”
toji had just parked outside the restaurant and splayed his hands across the steering wheel, trying to control his breathing from what you could tell. 
“i didn’t know what to say, okay negative nancy?” he finally turned to you, green eyes striking under the night sky and neon lights from the restaurant name shining through, “and then when i was going to call your pretty ass the next day, i saw the pictures of fuck face raw dogging you at the bar.”
“he didn’t fuck me,” you whined in complaint as you splayed yourself across the center console of his car and batted your scorned eyes at him, “how many times do i have to tell you guys?”
“well you were real close to,” he smirked at you before something serious fell across his features and his eyes darted to your handbag, “matter a fact, block his number right now.”
your head perked up at the demand and you blinked at him, “i dont have his number.”
toji squinted his eyes at you, “you said you gave him your number in the group chat.”
“yeah but he hasn’t called me or anything, so i never got his.”
the ravenette rolled his eyes, taking his keys out of the ignition and pointing at you with them, “when he does, you better fucking block him.”
“i will,” you nod obediently, watching as he starts to get out of the car
you move to take off your seat belt and he leans back into the vehicle with a warning look, “i’ll unbuckle it, don’t move.”
and he does, closing the door of his side before walking over to you and opening the door to kneel in and take off your seat belt, then giving you a helping hand to get out.
“thank you,” you murmur appreciatively as you watch your step before landing a quick kiss to his cheek. and if it affected him, you wouldn’t know, he said nothing and held onto your arm softly while he guided the both of you to the restaurant entrance.
“you look hot by the way,” he breathed out before opening the door and entering with you, giving you no chance to respond when the hostess immediately greeted the both of you and began to lead you to a table.
it was intimate, the table. it was small and dainty, relatively little space would be between you and the gruff fighter. and both of your seats were at the same corner of the table, making the distance shorter than it would have been sitting across from each other. 
toji instinctively pulled out your chair for you and muttered out a sound of acknowledgement when you thanked him as he sat down. 
“you gonna drink?” he quirked a brow at you, gesturing towards the menu of alcohol planted right in front of the both of you
“a little red wine sounds nice,” you try to say politely, “you?”
“nah,” he responds while raising a hand for a waiter to come by, “i need to drive you home. you like sweet or bitter wine?”
“sweet.”
and so he orders a wine for you to drink right off the bat, saying a thank you as the waiter walks away to get the bottle.
“does your mouth hurt?”
toji hums mindlessly, as if his head had been somewhere else before he perks up again and says, “come again sweetheart?”
the pet name had you a little fluststered in speaking again, feeling your body grow hot as you gestured to his mouth meekly, “your mouth, it was bleeding after the fight, does it still hurt?”
the corners of his mouth start to rise as he encroaches into your space, eyes lusty, “nothing a little kiss won’t make better.” 
your breath hitches and you feel like pushing him away to hide how easily he’s affected you, “you’re shameless.”
toji is inches away from your face now, and he tilts his head in fake hurt, “i took those punches from the lowlife trying to steal my girl away, doesn’t that mean i deserve a reward?”
you try to keep your face serious as you deadpan, willing your need to laugh away as best you can, “your girl?”
“my girl,” toji grins sleazily 
you’re about to bite back when the waiter comes back with the bottle of wine toji ordered for you and the menus for tonight’s dinner. toji takes the bottle from the waiter and insists on serving you your glass himself while you begin to look at the menu. choosing a meal was difficult with all the delicious options available, every description making your mouth water, you wanted everything. when you complained to toji about not knowing what to get because of all the options, he brushed you off while still reading his menu.
“get whatever you want, we can come again and again until you try everything.”
well that’s one way to make you horny
so you settled for these sauteed calamari rings with a savory sounding sauce while toji got a steak under the pretense that ‘i need to stock up on protein after fights.’
while the both of you eat, good conversation comes up and the previous tense awkwardness of the both of you goes away.
“i haven’t dated anyone since my sophomore year of college,” you say while taking a sip of wine to wash down a bite of calamari
toji quirks up a brow in disbelief at your statement while he takes a sip of his water, a scowl almost, as if he’s offended for you, “what about that emo lookin kid—“
you tilt your head in confusion, not being able to pinpoint who he’s talking about, “emo?”
toji rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers at himself, “that kid, can’t even remember his name, with the blue hair, you know–“
“grimmjow?!” you gape, eyebrows knit
“yea that fucker,” toji nods before he takes a bite of his steak
“I never even got to have a thing with grimmjow,” you deadpan, swiveling the glass of wine in your hand, “we kissed like once and then he told me he wasn’t ready for anything the next day.”
“silver spoon made it seem like you guys fucked.”
you sigh in agonizing pain that your white haired freak best friend loves to say you fuck frequently, “satoru says that because he feels my dry spell more than me. horny ass. he wishes i could get laid.”
“what,” toji snickers, “haven’t fucked in a year or something?”
this was going to be a pain
“three years,” you clarify, staring at him with bored eyes because you know you’re going to get a reaction because of this, “with my ex was the last time. and i lost it to him.”
toji eyebrows immediately raise and he looks at you like you’re insane, “you’re lying.”
“don’t you think id rather say i just got laid two weeks ago or something?” you quizically ask him
“well yeah,” he scoffs, “but i'd rather you not at that point.”
you knowingly squint your eyes at him, jabbing a fork of calamari, “why’s that?”
and you laugh when toji drops his napkin back onto his lap very done with you and blankly stares you down.
“how long have you liked me anyway,” you continue, hoping and praying on the small chance that toji pined for you as much you did for him so that you didn’t feel as pathetic
he stays quiet for a bit, as if he didn’t hear you, and you feel embarrassed that you’re about to repeat himself until he looks up from his meal and says, “ever since business boy posted a picture of you before i got the chance to meet all of you.”
hoping and praying did you well
you had to physically stop yourself from giggling like a schoolgirl by holding your hands in fists under the table, “and..why did you never make a move?”
“i thought you had a crush on sukuna for a good four months,” he shrugged and if you were seeing right, there was a pink hue dusting the tips of his ears, “after i figured out you didn’t, i pussied out because i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
then his eyes fixated on you, “what about you huh?”
you felt yourself growing small in your seat, beginning to play with the ends of your dress, “well, when we met and you told lent me your jacket because my cardigan was thin…”
“both of us have been idiots this entire year huh,” toji joked, laughing at himself and you
“yeah,” you meekly agreed, taking a woeful gulp of wine until you came to a realization, “wait, is that why sukuna thought you didn’t like him for the first few months of knowing him?!”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” the fighter grunted, looking to the side as he drank another gulp of water
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by the time your date with toji ended you were as happy as could be, having felt fulfilled that yes you were on a date with your long time crush, but that you were also very compatible and had amazing chemistry. you kissed briefly, outside the restaurant when your heel got caught on a pebble and he held you upright so as to stop you from falling. you pulled him in for it to thank him and he held onto your waist so fucking well, the fact that his hand was almost the same size as your back was dizzying. 
he had asked for another date the following afternoon for brunch with him and you couldn’t deny, wanting to spend more time with him. you were telling satoru this on the phone before he said…
“so when are you guys getting it on?”
if you could, you’d throw something at him through the phone right now.
“you are such a pervert!”
“i am not,” satoru defends, “okay maybe a little, ha. but in all honesty when are you two going to rip off the bandaid? it’s not like you’re strangers and you have to do that awkward period of oh im respecting your space crap. oh my god, does he know you’ve never gotten head?”
your cheeks flush hot, “no.”
“this is hilarious,” satoru jeers, “try to last longer than two seconds when he eats it.”
you sprawl across your bed and almost scream, “stop, because im going to be really embarrassed if that happens!”
“i think it’d be a miracle if it didn’t happen,” you can hear the millionaire open another candy wrapper before stuffing the sweet into his mouth, “so when are you sealing the deal?”
“when even is the appropriate time?” you gaze at your ceiling, feeling hot all over your body and embarrassed that you’re talking to your friend about having sex with one of your other friends
“personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.”
“you think?”
“he looks at your boobs when you aren’t looking.”
“what?! why didnt you tell me this before?” you sit upright in your bed
“him wanting to fuck you is obvious, i just didn’t know if he liked you, so i kept it to myself.”
“unfair,” you huff, falling back into your comforter, staring at the ceiling in silence until you felt your phone beginning to vibrate
pending call - toji
“toru, ill catch up with you some other time, toji’s calling me,” you usher out and immediately accept the incoming call before the snow haired devil can say something cheesy.
“hi,” you breathe out
“hey,” toji’s gruff voice responds through the small speaker, “how are you feelin?”
“about the food or you?” you tease
“both.”
“wish i could’ve eaten some of that peach cobbler the couple next to us ordered,” you fluff up a pillow behind you, wondering if you should go forward with a thought before you think fuck it, and say, “wish i could’ve kissed you more.”
“i can get you both angel.”
“what are you doing?”
“just put some patches on my back, ‘s sore,” theres a moment of silence before he quips, “was thinking about you.”
“me too,” you sigh, hoping he can’t hear how dreamy you unintentionally sounded
“what about me?” you can hear the smirk in his voice
and you indulge him a little, just to fuck with him, “how big your hands are.”
“you like ‘em?”
“mhm, they looked nice with the bruises on them too.”
“ ‘s that why you kept holding onto them?”
“maybe,” you watch as you kick your feet up in the air, finding something to exert your energy 
“yours are soft,” he breathes, “i like it.”
“you know what else is soft?”
“what?” you can hear his energy shift
“my hair, i use really good conditioner and product.”
“fuckin tease.”
you turned around in your bed to hold your head in one of your hands, “what ever do you mean by that toji?”
“you always pull shit like this and you know it. you made me think i forgot your birthday last week.”
you laugh at his offense, noting that you did get a good scare out of him last week when you pretended he said your birthday wrong, “okay that was a one time thing though.”
“and then you told me the chinese restaurant i sent you to had shitty lomein.”
he had recommened the restaurant to you last month based on the premise that the lomein was good as hell and that you’d like it. you didn’t think he’d fall for it, but you told him it was crap just to fuck with him and he couldn’t function for a minute. 
“okay okay maybe i do pull shit like that every once in a while,” you digress
“every once in a while…” the scowl on toji’s face is quite loud when he responds
“every once in a while,” you punctuate with a sing songy voice
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after your brunch date with toji the following day, he took you vase shopping because when he showed up at your place to pick you up he had another very large bouquet of flowers in his hands for you. and unfortunately, you couldn’t even fit all the flowers from the night before into the three vases you had. 
he took you to a high end home furniture store that you were pretty sure millionaires only shopped in, your theory being proven when a rug you passed by was the exact same one satoru kept in his apartment and shamelessly replaced when shoko got red wine on it. 
“woah,” you say when you get to the vase section, “this is way different than the ones at ikea.”
“see anything you like?” toji moves to stand next to you while you take in the vast number of beautiful vases in front of you
and at first you think you have nothing to say, unable to pick from all the beauties in splayed out for you, until your eyes spot a pretty almost seashell shaped vase, with defining ridges, colored gold, it was beautiful and you wouldn’t mind a number of those decorating your apartment. 
“i like this one,” you murmur as you walk up to it, noticing the slight iridescent shimmers on it
you can see toji raise his hand and make some sort of mannerism towards someone, you assume a worker, out of the corner of your eye after you say that. 
which led to the predicament of accompanying toji into your apartment numerous times as he carried the multiple boxes carrying the same vase into your apartment. you weren’t allowed to, he had demanded. he even eyed you threatningly when you made to pick up your own box to take with him. 
by the time he had brought in the last box you were very antsy, trying to find something to do in return for him like offer a water or food, or what fucking ever, just anything in exchange for his buying you multiple luxury vases and carrying them into your apartment. 
“i did that shit because i like you and i think you deserve it,” toji huffed, eyeing you pointedly while he accepted the glass of water you had offered him, “don’t get all weird.”
“okay…” you nervously looked to the side as you traced invisible lines across your kitchen island, “at least sit for a while before we have to unpack them and put the flowers in them. please?”
the tall and buff fighter let your small and nimble hands drag him to your couch by the arm and then guide him to sit on it, with you following after.
“I was watching grey’s anatomy before you came over,” you start, looking at him earnestly, “do you wanna watch some with me?”
toji set the glass of water on your coffee table then splayed his arm behind you on the couch and nodded, “go for it.”
“okay,” you smiled lightly then, much to his obvious surprise, crawled over him and reached for the remote next to him, tucked into the corner of the couch just a little, then went back to your original spot next to him.
your eyes were focused on opening netflix when he spoke, “is that the uh–the show with the doctors and crap?”
you pressed play when you set the remote off to the side and leaned more into his space, “yeah! it’s a little cheesy, but it’s fun to watch, at least before a certain season. after that it just goes downhill.”
“alright,” the ravenette said, leaning closer to your space too
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“glow in the dark,” toji exhales a light laugh at the mention of glow in the dark condoms
“ever tried those?” you look up at him from where you’re tucked underneath his arm, hand splayed across his chest and abdomen area
“never knew they were a thing,” he smirks, “you?”
“i don’t even know what head’s like,” you roll your eyes, “as if i would’ve gotten to the exploration stage of fucking.”
you can see toji visibly stiffen at your comment
“what?”
“there’s no way in hell that fucker didn’t eat you out,” he’s sat up straighter now, eyes pining you under his gaze
“well there is a way in hell,” you move your hands as if to gesture ‘it is what it is’, “he didn’t like the taste.”
“what, he got a wonder dick or something?” he looked annoyed, “that do the job?”
“i did not ever orgasm, so no,” you laugh, finding it funny how pissed he’s getting on your part, ���why are you so pissy for me zenin?”
he gives you one glance before looking forward at the tv to avoid your gaze, sighing a little, “it’s stupid, is all.”
“me not getting head?” you’re still staring at him even though he’s watching george and alex bicker on the tv
“yeah,” he nods
and satoru’s words play through your mind again, ‘personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.’
but you shake the thought away before you start something stupid and reassume your cuddling position next to toji, watching as it gets revealed that the neurosurgeon lover has a wife already. the previous piece of information making toji uncharacteristically scrunch his nose and look as if he wants to spit at the screen. 
“what,” he looks at you, eyes waiting in earnest for the next episode, “that the end? start the next one.”
“are you sure,” you giggle at his sudden interest in the soap opera.
toji sinks into his spot on the couch, bringing you closer to him with a hand on the skin just above your knee, “yeah, play it.”
while you take the remote to start the new season, you laugh, then place it down before leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on the fighter’s lips, “you’re cute.”
he gives you a bored look, obvious in expressing that cute is not something he wants to be described as, but you can also feel the grip he has on you twitch for a second. 
“what?” you smile, “can i not call you cute?”
“can’t you find something better?” he says, trying not to roll his eyes
“not when you’re acting cute,” you sit up a little and grab his face to place a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, which scrunches up cutely at the action. you can see toji try to chase your lips just the slightest when he sees your mouth fall away from his nose and wander so close to his mouth. you use the observation to tease him, making it look as if the next destination was his lips until you go further down and land a peck on his chin. 
toji’s had enough of it, it seems, when he swoops a hand under your jaw and near your neck and guides you to his own mouth. he's soft about it, simply trying to taste your lips and memorize the feeling of your lips on his, until–you dont know who–one of you takes a sensual turn and makes it much more intense than need be. although unable to find the culprit of before, you can say that toji’s first in sliding his tongue into your mouth moments after. he does it slowly, flicking the muscle to tease at your own before retreating, as if waiting for yours to give the same response and you do, shyly dipping yours in to lick across his tongue. almost like he lured you in, he intertwines his muscle with yours upon the interaction and you can’t help the small high pitched moan that escapes you. 
on some sort of instinct, toji uses the hand on your knee to hook it under his grasp and guide you to his lap, planting you thigh to thigh on top of him. your hands, having forgotten what to do in these situations, awkwardly place themselves on his chest, shakily feeling the hardness of his chest underneath them. he grabs onto one of them, caressing the skin of it, while his other hand finds comfort in your waist. 
a second moan makes it way out of your throat and toji’s hips buckle up subconsciously, which makes you gasp into his searing kisses. the action has you noting that he’s hard underneath you and the exact size of him is a curiosity to you, the thought making you reach a hand down to hold him. 
he’s big, an ‘it’s going to hurt’ kind of big. 
“don’t…” he grunts out, letting go of the hand holding onto his chest and reaching down to take off the one holding his length, “touch unless you’re ready.”
“i’m ready,” you shift your hips atop of him and being forced to look at him when he pulls away from the kiss, lips pink and splotched and his pupils blown out.
“I can wait,” he says, trying to control his breathing, the expanse of his chest rising and falling so controlled even though the look in his eyes says otherwise, “don’t worry about me, if that’s it.”
“well I can’t,” you tug at one of the buttons of his shirt for emphasis, then guide one of his hands underneath your skin and near your inner thighs, “feel me.”
slowly and hesitantly, toji moves his hand onto your panties and runs a finger across the excessively damp wet spot of them.
“fuckin tease,” he groans at the touch, sliding his finger across again and again, earning mewl after mewl from you
“do you want me?” you shyly pant as you hold onto his free arm, fighting the need to put your head in his shoulders
“yeah, i fucking want you,” toji growls as he pushes you onto his chest by a hand on your back
he maintains eye contact with you when his hand pushes your panties out of the way and immediately slips a finger into your heat. the pressure of his gaze turns feral when your eyebrows knit and a loud moan leaves your lips.
for some reason, trying to excuse the loud reactions he’s about to get from you, you heave, worried, “i—i haven’t done this in a long time and–oh mmmm–i won’t be able to help myself.”
“think i care?” he huffs, concentrating on you when he slips a second finger inside and curls them both curiously to find your spot, which he does, smirking a little when your hold on him grows tighter and your hips wiggle at the pleasure, “scream all you want princess.”
he starts jutting in his fingers quickly in and out of you after the words leave his mouth, and the stretch is so good, so unlike your small hands that haven’t been able to do crap for years, that you start squealing and hug toji in by the back of his neck and shoulders.
“there you go, there you go baby,” he coos, smiling a little at the cute sounds you’re making and relishing in the squelch of your pussy while his fingers abuse it. 
“wait–wait–” you heave, beginning to push him away, even though the advance is useless due to his iron grip and try to explain an embarrassing admission so as to warn him, “i feel like im gonna–”
he gives you no chance to finish your sentence when he punches in a third finger and makes you nearly scream.
“what?” he breathes, lusty eyes boring into your own, “you gonna cum?”
“no–”you shake your head, trying your best to still relay your message even though you can feel your orgasm taking its final steps near, “well yeah–but–but–”
your stomach starts dropping and toji picks up his pace so brashly that you release almost instantaneously all over him. your legs twitch uncontrollably and you bury your face into his neck while squealing through the feeling.
“shit.” he utters, still fingering you through it, “fuck, fuck.”
“i squirt,” you almost cry, embarrassed and shaken up by your orgasm, unable to look at him, “i’m sorry, i tried to tell–”
“shut up,” toji spanks your pussy and doesn’t care when you yelp as he throws you with your back on the couch and starts to tug your panties off, “you’re gonna do it again.”
submitting to him, you shimmy out of your dress nervously while he hastily undoes the buttons of his dress shirt. the burly fighter drags you, so your legs dangle off the couch before he kneels down and places his hands underneath your thighs to spread you out for him
“look at me when i eat you,” toji pinches your clit to get your full attention on his face, “don’t close your eyes or look at the ceiling, none of that shit. got that?”
you nod your head impishly, hesitantly putting a hand on your stomach, itching to hold onto his face or his hair. 
his eyes drift to your sex and you can see a hint of irritation paint itself across his features when he mutters under his breath, “didn’t like the taste my ass.”
within milliseconds, toji saves no mercy and starts to eat you out like a man starved. his mouth is hot and wet, and you don’t know where the mess is coming from, his lips or yours. the man spits onto your pussy and so sloppily makes out with your sticky heat, interchanging between that and sucking so harsly against your clit. 
your legs are twitching so wildly and the only thing keeping you from scrambling away is toji’s hands that are now wrapped around your thighs to keep you pressed against him. 
you’re basically screaming now, in utter bliss from the heavenly feeling, unable to speak. 
his eyes keep looking up to bore into yours all while he aggressively kisses your pussy. it has your breath picking up rapidly and goosebumps rising all across your skin. his tongue laps across your lips so foreign yet so deliciously that you can’t help the increasing reach of your orgasm.
“I'm close!” you squeal after a particular suck of your clit, thinking that he needs to heed to the warning because you’re so sure you’re about to squirt on his face
all toji does in response is growl and let go of one of your thighs to start fingering you with two digits rapidly.
he stares you down while you struggle to keep the eye contact, your whole body beginning to twitch uncontrollably and your vision starting to see white until the invisible cord snaps and you feel an immense relief wash over you–and him.
the juices seeping from you seem to spur him on and he doesn’t move in any sort of way to avoid them, instead choosing to lap at them and drink it in all while making growls and groans of satisfaction. 
he’s still going at it when you come to, and you start shuffling away–well try to–from him, yelping, “it’s sensitive toji!”
he seemingly listens to you after a few seconds, running his tongue flat against your folds before he lifts his face from you. the entire lower half of his face is covered in your juices and his spit and he looks outright animalistic as he looks back at you. 
he gets up and stalks towards you until he’s on top of your body and dives down to kiss you aggressively, making you taste yourself in the process. it’s so erotic, it has your pussy fluttering all over again. 
“fuck,” he groans deeply into your mouth, “you don’t have any condoms right doll?”
you shake your head a little, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and offer something else, “i’m on the pill…so i don’t really mind…”
you can feel his breath hitch and you’re quick to add, “but! if you’re not comfortable without one–”
“you fine with me blowing a load in you?” he mutters and seizes the chance to nip at your bottom lip
“i wanna feel it,” you admit, glad he’s still kissing you so he doesn’t see the flustered look on your face.
“dirty fucking angel,” he says heavily against your mouth before he gets up to undo his belt buckle and push both his pants and briefs in one motion.
he doesn’t even really spring up free like you expected him to. his dick is so hung that well, it hangs. the size looks bigger than what you predicted already when you touched it earlier. your ex, the only person you’ve had sex with, was the stark opposite of this, easy to fiddle with and well below average. the difference of having toji’s thick length right in front of you now had you clenching around nothing. 
“you like it?” toji smirks at you while he goes up to you again and moves you so that you’re completely laying across the couch before he climbs up on top of you between your legs.
“mhm,” you nod, looking down and hoping his tip can at least graze your folds while it bobs down near your inner thigh and that’s when you get an idea.
“can we–” you almost hesitate, “can we do a mating press?”
“was planning on it,” he says gruffly when he leans forward and pins your legs next to your head. 
you giggle at the words and he smiles down at you, a moment of innocence before the both of you look down and he’s using one hand to guide his tip into you.
the pop of his tip inside of you is overwhelming. you feel like you’re going to push him out in a single clench with how girthy he is. and you think the previous two, very wet, orgasms are what lets him slide into you, even though it stings. 
“shit’s fucking tight,” toji groans, both hands back to your legs while he and you watch him pull out nearly all the way and sink back in.
“ ‘s so big,” you huff, feeling like he’s outright in your stomach, “feel so full.”
“bet you do,” he sounds so serious when he says it, still entranced when he starts to pound in and out of you at an average pace that, although it’s not fast, still has you starting to feel tears brim near your waterline
the man above you starts groaning in sync with your moans and whines, shuddering a little everytime you clench and suck him in
“beautiful,” toji groans under his breath and you can feel his pace start to pick up a bit, “getting fucked on a huge cock, little princess slut. tiny fucking hole’s begging for help.”
the mean words mixed with his praise has you feeling epically embarrassed yet turned on all at the same time and all you can do is moan in response 
“you like getting called a slut?” he presses himself against you, almost chest to chest, smirking evilly while he raggedly breathes, “or princess? or you like me talking about splitting your pussy open?”
“all…of it,” you gasp through two punctual thrusts of his, he’s hit your cervix multiple times but the pleasure is so overwhelming, you’re starting to enjoy it
toji snickers a little, opening your legs a bit further to expose more of your torso, your tits being part of it and his intention, you realize when he goes down to pop one of your nipples into his mouth. he swirls the bud around his mouth and bites at it with his teeth while he starts to jackhammer into you, making sure each thrust is deep.
his balls start making a pap–pap sound everytime he thrusts back in, accompanying the wet squelch of toji dragging himself inside of you repeatedly.
it’s rough and hard, but more intimate than anything considering the few words being exchanged. the both of you are more concentrated on each other’s presence and reactions because after toji comes back up from your tits, he finds your lips and starts to makeout with you languidly. 
the grip on your thighs grows bruising when you mix tongue into the kissing, coaxing him to do the same too. 
“feel so fucking good,” he hisses when you clench around him uncontrollably, a sign of your incoming orgasm, “pussy’s close isn’t it”
you nod instead of speaking, concentrating on the delicious drag of his veins against your walls and the prodding of his tip at your g-spot
toji leans close to your ear, voice hard and lusty as he starts to mutter sweet and dirty nothings, “such a pretty girl, taking this cock so good.”
he then bites your ear softly, “you gonna milk my cock like a good girl? squeeze my load all out?”
shivering, you nod again and make a whimper in response 
“squirt all over me angel, i know you want to,” toji starts plummeting a bit harder into your sweet spot, finding it again, the action has you looking down at where you’re both connected unable to fathom how large he is and just how he’s making it all fit inside, “look at me.”
one of his hands is gently under your chin now, guiding you to look at him since your eyes had strayed from his own. he’s breathing heavy now and his irises are almost completely gone considering the blown out size of his pupils. 
“cum with me sweetheart,” the hand from your chin snakes its way down to your clit so as to start rubbing harsh circles for you, and you just know you’re about to make a bigger mess than before, “wrap that pretty pussy around me. milk the shit out of this dick. cum’s all yours baby.”
“ ‘s too much,” you whine, breathing ragged, “i don’t think–oh my god!”
you feel the pleasure wash over your entire body and come out all over toji’s lower abdomen accompannied by the profuse hard flutters of your pussy on his cock. you release a combination between a whine and a cry, feeling completely wrecked by the sensation.
toji follows you the moment your release gets all over him, his hips stiling and jerking into you roughly, this time giving hard kisses to your cervix instead of the fleeting small pecks from earlier. his cum feels immense, its warmth you can feel pooling inside you as toji sputters it into you.
“shit! fuck!” he groans, watching himself push it all into you before looking back up and taking you into a passionate kiss
“atta girl,” he utters after swiping his tongue across your teeth, one of his hands coming up to tentatively hold one of your breasts, “that feel good?”
tired, you weakly nod and sigh a weak, “mhm”
he lets go of the one hand holding your thigh up and moves both of your legs so that they wrap around his waist. he hasn’t pulled out yet.
“gonna buy you a new couch,” his lips twitch a little as he looks at the surrounding area near the both of you, “shit’s soaked.”
“toji!” you whine, embarrased, and pull him into you so you can hide your face.
toji doesn’t let you, instead pulling away so he can get a good look at you and grin, “you got spare sheets?”
“yeah?” you furrow your eyebrows, “but what does that have to do with the couch?”
“it doesnt. I’m fucking you on your bed later,” he shifts both of your bodies so that you can sit on top of him now just as he shifts the conversation back to what it was, “we’ll go shopping for the couch tomorrow. make it celebratory gift.”
“for the first time we fucked?”
“nah,” he lands a teasing kiss on your nose, “for your first time.”
you roll your eyes at him, “just because its been three years–”
“don’t care, doesn’t count if you never came with shrimp dick.”
a fit of giggles escapes you as you press yourself up against him for physical support, “yeah okay, it’s my first time gift.” 
then your eyes stray to his very wet clothes on the floor next to yours, “sorry i got your clothes dirty though. I don’t think i have anything for you to wear either.”
toji puts both of his thumbs at the corner of your mouth to make your pout disappear, he snickers at himself for it, “i’ll call my assistant to drop off some clothes here.” 
“how long will that take?”
“long as our shower,” toji huffs as he lifts the both of you up and starts walking to your restroom.
“and how long will that take?” you laugh, wiggling your eyebrows at him and clinging onto his shoulders.
“three more orgasms,” he comments, opening the door and leading the both of you to a very steamy shower. 
“you haven’t even made the call yet!”
“shut up.”
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indecisivemuch · 4 months
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Look at me
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Being oblivious to Luke’s feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song ‘Boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron ~ “I could be a better boyfriend than him.” (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)
Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)
Note: I’m sorry if there are a lot of errors, I haven’t had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.
Word count: 4.8k
“People say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,” you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybody’s surprise when something else occurred.
It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.
It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach. 
It didn’t help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine. 
Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Cole’s backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better. 
You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, he’d never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.
One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriend’s arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke. 
Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside. 
Luke’s jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.
For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.
You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Luke’s. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession. 
Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Luke’s eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.
Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Luke’s chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy. 
Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Luke’s lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.
Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call? 
The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing. 
Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.
“Hey, man,” when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, you lifted your head from Luke’s chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. “I’ll take over from here,” Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Cole’s chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded…too calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.
You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you. 
Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.
You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. “All right, we’re done for the night, don’t you think?” your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before. 
Yet, he was not there anymore.
~~~
Your cabin was not on the same side as Luke’s cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the person’s neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..
“Luke!” you called out, watching as Luke’s action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Luke’s momentary distraction to land a hit on Luke’s face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.
“Hey, knock it off,” you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didn’t. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Cole’s friends next to him, who promptly told the man:
“It was him. Luke initiated the fight.” 
~~~
Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Luke’s hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him. 
You deserved better. 
“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.
“Devon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?” Luke frowned at the mention of Cole’s friend. Great, now he knew another idiot’s name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first. 
“No, but what’s the point of telling Chiron that? It’s two against one,” he breathed out.
“Luke, you’re literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,” you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.
Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book. 
“Why are you with him?” and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two. 
“I know you, which is why I know that you’re absolutely miserable with him, so I don’t understand why you’re still with Cole,” Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.
“Y/N, please, as your best friend…” there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. “...You deserve better,” he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.
“Luke…” you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this. 
His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. That’s how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset. 
“Y/N, does he make you happy?” you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.
“Oh, this is who you left me to talk to?” Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. “The person who beat your boyfriend?” Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick “Unbelievable,” before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.
“I’m so sorry,” you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.
“Uhm, what are you waiting for?” Annabeth’s voice broke Luke from his irritated state. “Go after her,” the young girl nudged.
“I doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.”
“Yes, but you need to go after her before it’s too late.”
“It’s already too late.”
“No, it’s not,” the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.
“Stop it, Cole. I don’t want to…” Your voice grabbed Luke’s attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.
“Come on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,” Cole replied. 
When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip. 
“I said ‘let go,’ Cole,” you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Cole’s cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.
Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, “Gods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, you’re such a whore, you know that?” If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Cole’ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face. 
“Cole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.” Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Let’s go, this is not worth it,” you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.
“Man, you’re more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? You’re fucking difficult and clingy, that’s why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.” Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.
“You fucking bitch!” Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this.”
“Oh yeah? Come on!” you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. “I’ll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,” right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.
“If you know any better, then leave, Cole. And don’t come near any of us again, or I promise you…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Cole’s imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Luke’s face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.
You turned around and inspected Luke’s hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.
The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.
“Are you okay?” His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You haven’t seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.
“Am I okay? You’re the one with the bleeding hand.”
“You punched him quite hard.”
“He deserved it,” you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed. 
“You know I had that handled, right?” you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,” you tried joking.
“No, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasn’t defending your honor,” he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be: 
“I was defending the girl I’m in love with.”
You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always “looked” at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.
“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too. 
“So….Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. So…why? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?”
“Luke…” you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?
“I love you,” he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think he’d say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.
“Luke, I never knew,” Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.
He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what. 
"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.
“I never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didn’t know you felt this way, too. In fact,” you dryly chuckled. “I was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.” Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings. 
“I thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?” he asked.
“What moves?”
“Uhm—the physical contact?”
“I thought you were just touchy.”
“I walked you back to your cabin every night!”
“Well, I thought it was just a best friend thing?”
“The first thing I do after every quest is search for you, you’re always the first one I want to see.”
“I really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.” He groaned at all of your responses.
“But do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every round…if I knew you were up for it.” He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didn’t think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmary’s bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.
“Can I kiss you?” He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.
“Kiss me, Luke.”
And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.
You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy. 
“I wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like I’ve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I can’t wait anymore,” he whispered before whimpering against your lips, “please be mine.”
He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.
“That was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and I’ll give you an answer,” he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.
“Will you be mine, sunshine?”
“Yes, Luke. As long as you’re mine too.”
“I have always been yours.”
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