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abouttofillhisshoes · 2 days

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Eat me // Hot fudge - Matty Healy

part two

A/N: heyy y'all, this is what i've been cooking up these past few days. I hope you enjoy Waiter! Matty's incessant flirting.

content warnings: mentions of alcohol, flirting

wc: 5k

Life tip number one: if you sign a lease for a new flat, and said flat happens to be in a non-smoking building, maybe don't spend your days lighting up at every possible opportunity. Seems like common sense, no? Apparently not.

Matty scoffed when the landlord came to his door, throwing (quite factual) accusations around, telling him he knew he had been smoking in the building after specifically being told to take it outside. Now, he would have happily obliged if it wasn't the dead of winter and pissing it down almost every morning, making it impossible to step out for a quick smoke break throughout the day.

Threatening eviction, Matty simply nodded and dismissed him with a wave of his hand, saying he’d cut it out (and having absolutely no intention of doing so). Even so, Matty really couldn't afford to be kicked right now, with the flat being a perfect distance from his place of work, the commute consisting of three train stops and a short 5 minute walk to the front door of Roadkill.

The face you're making right now was the same one Matty made when Ross told him “Roadkill” was the name he had chosen for his new restaurant. While it might sound disgusting and vile, the food was quite nice, so there was little room to complain.

Since they were boys, the four of them had wanted to make music. Starting in a garage, recording emo tracks with shitty sound quality had been a hobby, which slowly morphed into a passion. Fifteen years they had been doing the same thing, trying to make it big. Hann, a legend on the guitar, had tried to get them in contact with record companies, begging for any of them to sign the band. To no avail, but that didn't stop Matty from dreaming.

Dreaming of sold out arenas, thousands of fans singing his own lyrics back to him. Groupies following them from city to city, screaming their names. The classic rockstar cliché, drinking and smoking his way to festival headlines, having even the Times beg him for an interview slot.

Nevertheless, those scenarios stayed in his dreams. As he grew older, the grey in his hair properly staring him in the face, Ross had decided that it was time to move on. Shitty pub gigs were not going to pay the bills forever, not that they ever really did. Mattys mother had begged him to go to uni, or at least finish his A-levels. Telling her it was all going to work itself out, he focused on his songwriting, sitting for hours, scribbling down rhymes and melodies. George was always by his side, yapping away about some music production bullshit that didn't interest him in the slightest.

But soon enough, Matty ran out of money. Ross had taken to opening up a restaurant, the type of place Matty would be caught dead in. Glazed wooden tables, warm, orange lighting, and red leather booths and chairs adorned the space, giving it a sort of aesthetic he could only describe as “old”.

All four of them had begun working there at some point or another, refusing to leave each other. Even if it was chaotic at times, the restaurant was like their child. A symbol of what could've been if the music thing had worked out. Matty still hadn't given up on it, spending every ounce of free time dreaming up new songs and music, taking it to George the moment he’d created something “truly promising”. George had found his new passion in the kitchen, curating the entirety of Roadkill’s menu, each dish more delicious than the last.

Adam had taken to the host stand, doing what he did best, which was ordering the rest of the restaurant around. Matty was reluctant in working there at first, knowing that everyone else would think he had “finally” given up on his silly dream of being a musician. He hated being a stereotype with all his heart.

He knew his shift started in less than half an hour, and that Adam would probably beat the shit out of him if he showed up late again, but that seemed irrelevant.

The bathroom mirror was littered with fingerprints and dust, making it hard for him to see himself. Wiping at the glass, he’s greeted by his three day old stubble, faint grey hairs to be seen on his neck and face. Eyeing his razor, he decided that there simply wasnt enough time to shave, knowing his train was leaving in ten minutes.

His hands search for the tub of gel sitting next to his toothbrush, the bathroom counter covered in remnants of it. Slapping some onto the top of his head, he runs his fingers through it, slicking it back. Ross had told him multiple times to just chop it off, but Matty refused, telling him he’ll just look older.

“You already look like you watch “The price is right” every evening, so there's not much more you can do.” that earned him a smack to the back of his head and an eye roll, muttering at him to fuck off and die.

Washing his hands in the sink, he inspects his clothes. Having gone out the previous evening, drinking way too much than was necessary, he had fallen asleep in his work attire. His dress shirt was slightly wrinkled, but acceptable. A small stain was visible at the bottom, but that would be covered by the ugly apron Ross forced him to wear while he worked. “Uniform” and what not.

Mumbling to himself, Matty scrambles for his keys and phone, stuffing them into his “purse”, as George so affectionately called it. It was a leather tote bag, perfectly acceptable for any modern man, not his fault his mate was still stuck in the 1950s, in terms of fashion. Grabbing his cigarettes off the front room table, he bolts to the door, slamming it behind him.

Pacing down the street, Matty manages to fumble his light two times before finally breathing in the nicotine, effectively calming himself down. Much to his luck, the train was late, and spending the additional ten minutes in the piss smelling station just worsened his already sour mood.

Scrolling through his phone, he could hear the group of ladies next to him talking obnoxiously loud, their voices drilling a hole into his skull.

Taking several deep breaths, as to not lash out at random strangers, Matts sighs in relief as he realizes the next stop is his.

Pushing the doors open, Hann immediately appears at his side, yelling into his ear about being almost ten minutes late. His saving grace appears as you walk through the entrance behind him, spotting the host stand. Adam greets you with a fake smile, eyeing Matty in the corner of his eye, silently telling him to fuck off and go do his job. He smirks back at the both of you, walking towards the staff changing room.

“Table for two?” he asks, flipping through pages of the restaurant layout. Completely unnecessary, seeing as the place was almost empty, with only a few patrons sitting down, munching away at various breakfast foods.

“Nah, just me today.” You try to sound happy, but eating breakfast alone at a restaurant wasn't exactly how you thought you’d be spending your Saturday morning. Your mate had ditched you for her boyfriend, making up some lame excuse to stay home with him. You understood to a certain degree, but it was still a dick move leaving you stranded like that.

“Booth?” you nod, and he leads you to a red booth towards the center of the restaurant, the dim lighting making you slightly tired, even if it was only eleven in the morning.

It's cozy, you gather, small lamps decorating the table as you sit down, setting your phone onto the glazed wooden surface. Picking up the menu, you run your fingers over the leather cover, admiring the fancy golden lettering on the front.

Meanwhile, Matty had already changed in the back room, and was now lounging about the kitchen, talking to George.

“And then he threatened to kick me out, can you believe that?” Matty moves his hands around to emphasize his words, running his fingers through his hair.

“I mean, it is a non-smoking building, innit?” He rolls his eyes, hopping off the counter as George tends to the eggs sizzling in the pan in front of him. Not even three seconds later, Ross comes bursting through the kitchen doors.

“Healy, are you fucking serious?? Go do your job!” his voice booms through the room, scaring the shit out of Matty. Bowing his head apologetically, he makes his way past Ross and to the floor, looking around his section. It was nearly empty, with most people already having been served their food and drinks.

His eyes land on you, scanning the menu. Fixing his slightly too big apron, he pulls out his small notepad and strolls over to you. The layout of the place is odd, and it takes a while before he finally stands in front of you, pen on paper, waiting for your order.

“What’ll it be?” His voice is rough, deep, his lack of sleep evident. Your words are caught in your throat, and you stutter before giving up completely. You weren't expecting him to come that fast, and he had taken you slightly by surprise.

“I- uh- i'm not sure?” You know you sound pathetic, and his facial expression doesn't help curb your anxiety. Setting the menu down, your hands clasp together as you stare at him, not sure what to say next.

Matty finds your reaction endearing, his eyes softening slightly as they meet yours. The height difference was intimidating, with him towering over you as you sat.

“Well, darling, seeing as it is..” he glances at his wristwatch “about 11am, i’d use my genius food-recommending skills to suggest some breakfast? What d’you fancy?” his northern accent catches you off guard, and you give him a once over, stealing a look at his name tag. Matthew, it reads, the bold silver letters standing out against his sandy button up shirt.

“What do you usually have?” The question makes Matty raise his eyebrows, cocking his head slightly.

“I personally like the egg and bacon sandwich, but there's lots of other-” “I’ll have that then.” you cut him off, smiling sweetly, handing him your menu. He nods, taking it out of your hand, simultaneously tucking his notepad away.

“Anything to drink?”

“A glass of merlot, please.” Now this surprises him.

“Wine? At this hour?” he leans onto the table, eyeing you up and down. You feel judged, but refuse to let it show.

“You look like the last person who should be lecturing me about my drinking habits, I can recognise a hangover when I see one.” you shoot back. Matty presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense.

“That's not very polite, is it?” he says, his voice tinged with something you can't recognise. A beat passes between the two of you, the silence full of tension.

“Are you sure you want me to be polite?”

Matty’s look of surprise is horribly hidden beneath a sly grin as he turns on his heel, giving you one last look over his shoulder. You watch him leave, your heart pounding in your chest. What the fuck was that?

His breaths are shallow as he puts in your order, shouting at George to make it quickly. Grabbing a silver platter from behind the bar, he pours you your glass of wine, measuring it out perfectly. Setting it onto the surface, he walks back over rather slowly, giving himself time to collect his thoughts.

“Here you are, your food will be out shortly.” you twirl the glass between your fingers before taking a small sip, your eyes never leaving Mattys. The liquid sloshes down your throat, and you hum in approval, nodding at him.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” He holds the platter in front of him, sort of like a shield. You give him another once over, before speaking.

“That's alright.” you pause “Thank you, Matthew.” your use of his first name makes his breath hitch in his throat.

“Only my mother calls me Matthew.” his nails scratch at the metal in his hands. “Please, call me Matty.”

“Matty.” you repeat, taking another sip. Your phone buzzes on the table, an incoming call flashing across the screen. Matty takes that as his cue to leave. Making his way to other tables, asking if they needed refills or the check.

You talk on the phone for a bit, quickly ending the call in favor of watching your waiter walk around the room, charming quests and handing out drinks. His features mesmerize you, and your eyes dont leave his frame until he steps back into the kitchen, disappearing from your view.

“Is table twelves order done yet? It's been ages.” Matty’s voice is tinged with annoyance, watching George plate the food.

“Oh fuck off, its been exactly ten minutes.” he grumbles, handing Matty the dish.

“Be quiet, or i'll tell Ross you keep making yourself food for free.” he threatens, grinning at the blonde man.

“You won't, because that would force me to reveal the reason behind the missing liquor bottles, and we would want that.”

Matty rolls his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before walking away.

The restaurant was steadily filling with more guests, with servers racing around the room, Adam looking positively stressed at the host stand. The lunch rush had officially begun. Businessmen and women sat down at tables, ordering steaks and burgers, getting annoyed when their food didn’t materialize in front of them within five minutes.

Matty hated the lunch rush, deeming it absolute hell on earth. Walking to your table, he almost drops your sandwich when another server, Jamie, bumps into him, balancing at least three platters in his arms.

“Sorry mate.” he mutters, rushing towards a table filled with what looked like accountants.

“Here's your food darling, sorry it took so long,” Mattys voice is sickly sweet, his grin never leaving his face. You smile, brushing imaginary dust off of yourself before taking a bite. Trying to keep his composure, he watches as your teeth sink into the sandwich, a content moan leaving your lips.

Your little noise makes Matty swallow wrong, sending him into a nasty coughing fit. Keeping calm, he asks you what you think of the food.

“Well, I can see why it's your favorite, it's really good.” egg yolk runs down the side of your face, and you quickly wipe it off, looking back up at Matty. “Give my compliments to the chef.” A snort escapes his mouth before he can stop it.

“Chef? That's just my mate George back there.” he gestures to the kitchen, giggling at the implication that there was an actual, qualified cook in there.

“Tell him then, I'm sure he doesn't get appreciated enough.”

“I'll let you know I appreciate him enough, thank you very much.”

His attention is pulled away by Ross shouting at him from behind the bar, telling him to get to his other tables. Your expression changes slightly, almost sad to see him go.

“Sorry love, duty calls.” Matty shrugs, his hand running through his hair once again, trying to keep in place. You nod, watching him leave.

The food is delicious, gone in less than ten minutes. Another server asks you if you want another glass of wine, and you gladly accept. Sipping and scrolling on your phone, you seem to lose track of time. People clear out, going back to their day jobs. The restaurant is emptier, the loud atmosphere finally dying down. You feel like you can think again.

Looking around to try and spot Matty, you're greeted by him already walking towards you, a plate of something in his hands.

—-----------------------------------------------

“Hey mate, make me a thing of fudge, will you?” Matty asks, seeing George wasn't all that busy. George was the head chef, making most dishes, leaving only simple things like salads and soups to the others. He had made the menu after all, so who better to cook the food than him?

“Sure, who’s it for?”

“Table twelve.” George's eyes scan the meal tickets, not seeing the order. Matty hops back up onto the counter, watching George closely.

“I don't see the order, did you forget to ring in again?” he accuses. Matty pretends to be offended, but even he knows the accusation doesn’t come without reason.

He had a habit of simply forgetting to put in orders, which always ended in him begging George to make it quickly so he wouldn't get his ass handed to him by the customer waiting 30 minutes for a simple soup.

“Nah, now stop being a twat and make it.” Matty spits, avoiding eye contact.

“Not until you tell me why.” he shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at the server expectantly.

“It's for a girl, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Jesus christ."

Now, this was definitely not the answer George was expecting from him, a small, involuntary giggle escaping him.

“A girl? Are you taking the piss?”

Matty punches his arm, silently telling him to shut the fuck up and just make it. George doesn't stop smiling condescendingly, making a show out of drawing a small heart on top of the fudge.

“Here, for your girl.” he grins, handing it to him. Grabbing it out of George's hands rather violently, Matty curses at him.

“She's not my girl.” his words sound insincere, not going unnoticed by George.

—---------------------------------------------

Matty sets the plate onto your table, scooping up the other dishes and putting them onto his platter. He grins at you as you see the heart.

“I didnt-” “I know.” he predicts your words, cutting you off before you could even finish your sentence.

“So why-” he nudges your foot, and your breath hitches slightly.

“Consider it a gift, I hope you like it.” His voice is low, gravely. His eyes pierce yours as he watches you take a bite, the fudge melting in your mouth. You let out a moan around the spoon, this time purposefully looking at him for a reaction. His lips part slightly as he watches you swallow.

“It's delicious.” you say, eyeing him up and down. “Please, do tell George his cooking is phenomenal.” The mention of another man's name makes Matty’s hands shift beneath the platter. You notice, smiling up at him, batting your eyelashes.

“Thank you Matty, you really didn't have to.” His expression softens, and he shakes his head, indicating that it was, in fact, his pleasure. Comfortable silence settles between the two of you, the cozy lighting of the restaurant illuminating his face perfectly. You admire him, memorizing every single discernable feature of his face.

You notice his shirt has the first few buttons undone, revealing a trace of a tattoo. The faded ink catches your eye, and you can't help but stare.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His words snap you out of your daze, and you can feel a deep blush spread onto your face.

“You have tattoos.” you sound like a complete idiot saying it like that. Cringing inwardly, Matty’s laughter fills your ears, making you inevitably smile.

“I have a bunch.” he states, rolling up his sleeve to reveal multiple pieces littering his forearm.

“You’ll have to show me then sometime.” your boldness surprises him, and he takes a step towards you. You turn back to your dessert, filling your mouth with another spoonful of warm fudge.

The tension is now so thick, you could cut through it with a knife. He continues standing there, platter in hand, not moving.

“You want the check?” he asks, making a writing motion with his left hand. The dishes almost fall off of the platter in his hand, but he manages to straighten himself just in time. You giggle at the almost accident, hiding your mouth behind your hand.

“C’mon, dont hide that pretty smile from me.” You blush, eyes avoiding his.

“Just give me the check.” your voice is slightly shaky, and you cringe again, trying to regain your composure. What the actual fuck was wrong with you?

“Be right back darling, enjoy your dessert.” His casual use of the pet name made you take a deep breath, steadying yourself as he walked away. His hips swayed as he made his way toward the back, bringing the dirty dishes away.

Though he seemed unaffected, his demeanor changed the moment he was out of your line of sight.

Leaning against the wall of the walk-in fridge, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The way you flirted back at him made his head spin, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Most of the time, he flirted out of boredom, or better tips. This was different.

The reactions he got were almost always the same. A giggle, and maybe some dry conversation, and the inevitable ask for his number. He never said yes, wanting to keep the interaction strictly within the perimeter of the restaurant.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that if you had asked for his number, he wouldn't have said no. This made him feel slightly uneasy, like he wasn't in control. Taking deep breaths to calm himself, just like you had not done ten seconds earlier, he went to get the check from the register.

George winked at him as he walked by, gesturing to you, still sitting at the same table after almost three hours. He hadn't realized how much time had passed, an hour seeming like only a few minutes when talking to you. Shaking it off, he checks over other tables before finally returning to give you your bill.

“You really didn't have to pay for my dessert.” you mumble, taking the piece of paper out of his hand. When you do, your fingers brush against each other, and you can feel your heart race in your chest.

His eyes stare at you from above, and you raise your eyebrows, desperately trying to appear nonchalant. Realizing you didn't have a pen, you spot one in the pocket of Matty’s apron. Without thinking, you reach out to grab it, your hand lightly grazing his front. You swear you see his hips twitch, but convince yourself it was only a figment of your imagination.

Your handwriting is messy, the pen scratching loudly against the paper. The total came to £23, and you smile to yourself as you round up to forty, leaving him a nice tip. His eyes widen as he reads it, trying to protest.

“You don't have-”

“Just let me spoil you a bit, yeah?”

Your voice drips like honey as you swat his hand away. Matty huffs, reluctantly letting you hand him your card with a huge grin on your face.

This time, he deliberately lets your hands touch, lingering for a few seconds too long before pulling away, turning to walk towards the till located at the back.

He opens the leather check booklet, eyes raking over the paper. His breath hitches as he notices a heart scrawled next to the total. Of course you’d do that.

Reaching for your card, he flips it over, searching for your name. His heart sinks when his eyes land on two initials. No name.

Charging the card, he lets the receipt print. It takes ages, and he makes a mental note to remind Ross to invest in some decent equipment. It's not like he didn't have the funds, he just loved making Matty’s life difficult.

The walk back to your table seems endless, narrowly avoiding bumping into Jamie again. Setting the booklet with your card onto the table, he thanks you again for the tip, his hands playing with the inside of his pockets.

“Did you find everything alright?” he asks the mandatory question, unable to stop the grin that spreads onto his face as you tell him everything was absolutely terrible, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I'm only joking, I loved it. Tell the owner I like the aesthetic of the place.” Matty sighs, voicing his hatred for the dim lighting and glazed wood of the tables.

“I think it's quite nice, even if the name is a bit crude.” He laughs.

“That's what I told Ross when he opened the place, but he insisted on naming it that for some reason.” His hands move erratically as he tells you the story of him and Ross, how he had been so kind to give him a job when he was unable to hold down anything else.

“It seems like the whole restaurant is some sort of big friend group, innit?” you question.

“Sort of, we’re all mates here. Known each other since we were about fourteen.” he says proudly.

“Adam’s the one who sat you earlier, he's the responsible one. Keeps our books too. We all call him Hann though, don't think he responds to Adam anymore.” he giggles, turning to face the bar.

“Ross is our owner and resident dickhead. He bartends sometimes when he’s too cheap to pay an actual bartender.” you watch him make a drink for a disgruntled looking business man. “We all hope and pray ALE doesn't raid the place.”

He goes on about the servers: Jamie, Polly, and John.

“Again, no one really calls him John, his name’s Waughy to ‘most everyone.”

At some point, Matty had sat down across from you, and you hung on his every word. His voice made you feel entranced, the thick northern accent only pulling you in further. He talked about the fact that he was an actual trained bartender, and you make him promise to show you his skills at some point.

“So, what do you drink? Besides wine, of course.” he asks, leaning his head against his fist.

“You're gonna be disappointed.” you mumble, his smirk making butterflies flutter in your stomach. He raises his eyebrows, assuring you it can't possibly be that bad.

“Go on, tell me.” you take a deep breath.

“Aperol spritz.” the words hang in the air for a second before Matty bursts out laughing. You shoot him a look, and he collects himself before speaking.

“You just ordered wine at 11am, acting all mysterious, and you’re telling me your drink of choice is fucking Aperol Spritz?”

“Oh yeah? Don't act all high and mighty just because you probably drink fucking whiskey or some other “classy” shit.” you spit back, leaning against the leather of the booth.

“Oops, caught me.” he laughs again, childlike giggles escaping his lips.

“Shut up.” you mumble as you finish your third glass of wine, Matty insisting on giving it to you on the house. Giddy and slightly day-drunk, you realize you had been sitting there for nearly four hours.

“Jesus, I better get going.” you see Matty deflate, his shoulders visibly dropping. He gets up, taking your wine glass with him as he stands next to you, looking down.

“You never did tell me your name.” His voice is small, almost timid.

You shrug, giving him a once over before getting up. Even standing up completely straight, he towers over you, the top of your head only reaching his jaw. Craning your neck upwards, you take a small step back.

“I guess i'll just have to tell you next time, won't I?”

The implication makes Matty’s heart skip a beat. His hands wrap around the glass he's holding, gripping it tightly.

“Next time?” he asks. You nod, turning to walk away. Every fiber of his being wants him to call after you, to somehow get you to stay a bit longer. He knew it wasn't possible, and watching you go was almost painful. His eyes followed the sway of your hips until you disappeared from his line of sight.

“‘Till next time.” he mumbles under his breath, turning to the host stand, being met with more guests being sat by Adam. His section was slowly filling up again, and he got to work, taking drink orders and flirting with older women for better tips. The day continued as normal, but one thought just wouldn't leave him alone. The thought of a next time with you.

Next time.

79 notes · View notes

memphisflash · 2 days

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𝑇𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑇𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 8,9K

Summary: Visiting your sister and her boyfriend in Hawaii, you find yourself falling harder and deeper for your brother-in-law. And it seems like Elvis can't resist you either...

Warnings: club singer!elvis, mentions of/infidelity, arguing, lil bit of angst, strong language, alcohol consumption, reader pining over Elvis, reader being in love with her sister's boyfriend, mention of reader being slim, smut; unprotected sex, penetration, oral (f. receiving), size kink-ish.

A/N: This used to be a piece of writing called "Little Sister" I wrote a long time ago on my old account, but I changed a few things (mostly in the smutty part) and wanted to share it again. Was inspired by a very nsfw gif I saw (seriously, don't look at the gif that's linked if there's people around you) and I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here we are. ;) There's more to it than the summary entails, and beware of the shitty written ending because y'all know I hate writing endings.

Masterlist

Your heart was racing as you were dragging your suitcase along through the airport of Honolulu.

Finally your parents had allowed you to visit your older sister who lived and worked in Hawaii during your four weeks of summer holidays and you were beyond excited.

Excited to leave the stress of deadlines and annoying frat boys behind and settle in a new environment for a few weeks.

The fact that you would be seeing Elvis Presley, your brother in law, again certainly had nothing to do with the excitement you felt tingling in your stomach. At least, that’s what you told yourself and the longer you’d deny your feelings toward him, the more you’d start to believe your own lies.

That was until you were face to face with him again─it was much easier to hide your feelings toward him from a different state.

And the fact that you and him kissed a year ago didn’t really help your nerves to see him again either.

It happened while you were both drunk and neither of you had spoken a word about it, but it did happen and after the hangover from hell you fought off that next morning, it was all you could think about.

Luckily for you, your sister and her boyfriend moved to Hawaii not even a week later and maybe if they wouldn’t have, you would’ve never kissed him. It’s not like you thought you’d never see him again, but you just figured that your sister was too busy with her new job as a tour guide and wouldn’t invite you and your parents over until Christmas time. Seemed like Tracy missed you more than you expected, as she had basically begged you to come live with her for those few weeks of your summer break─she even managed to convince your parents to come alone.

Despite you being 20, they were still overprotective over you. Your sister was only three years older, but she had always been a bit more of a rebel, not caring that your parents weren’t too happy with her moving all the way to Hawaii with a man she had only been dating for a few weeks at that time. Apparently things between Elvis and her were still well, seeing they had passed their one year anniversary a few weeks ago.

“Welcome to Hawaii, little one,” Elvis greeted you with a wide smile on his face as you stepped out of the airport, trying to ignore the heat surrounding you as if you just stepped into a sauna.

Your heart did about ten somersaults against your ribcage and you were pretty sure your cheeks were flushed. If Elvis noticed your state of slight shock, he didn’t comment on it and instead, placed a colorful lei around your neck before he took your suitcase from you.

“Where’s Tracy? I thought she was picking me up,” you questioned curiously as you watched him open the trunk of his car to put your luggage in it. Your sister failed to tell you that her boyfriend was picking you up and to any normal person, that would’ve been fine, but you just had to fall for a guy that was already taken.

By your own sister, for crying out loud.

You had no idea how long the drive from the airport to your sisters’ apartment would be, but you were pretty sure you wouldn’t survive even five minutes alone in a car with him.

The raven haired man shut the trunk and leaned his hands on it, feigning a shocked facial expression. “I thought you liked spending time with your brother,” he grinned, making sure you knew he was playing with you but it still made heat crawl up your neck and face.

You hated when he called himself your brother─the fantasies about him that plagued your mind at night certainly weren’t meant for a brother.

“She had to run some errands to get everything ready for you,” he then said, smiling at you as he opened the door of the passengers’ seat, looking at you. You inhaled some air, though it did nothing to loosen up the tightness you felt in your chest.

If the heat of the island wasn’t going to take you out, those stupid blue eyes of his definitely were.

“Alright,” you mumbled softly, flashing him a quick smile as you got in the car, making sure not to let the smell of his cologne make your mind go places it definitely shouldn’t be going.

“How is your work going? Do you like Hawaii?” you asked as he drove away from the airport and onto the high way.

You were nervous, but you were trying your best not to let it show and make him suspicious. You didn’t want him to think you accepted Tracy’s offer to come just for him, because even though that was one of the (main) reasons, you’d rather throw yourself out of the car than to have him know that.

He looked at you for a second with a little grin on his face before he turned back to the road, his arm casually leaning on the open window frame, fingertips tapping on the wheel.

“Hawaii is amazing, can’t even imagine myself going back anymore,” he laughed softly, which made you smile softly as you looked at the view ahead of you.

You’d missed the sound of his laugh.

You could understand why he didn’t wanted to go back. You had only seen the airport and some of the scenery from the high way, but it already felt like a place that was soothing for the soul. Beautiful weather, beautiful people and gorgeous nature all around─you couldn’t wait to see more of it.

“I’m sure you will love it just as much as we do,” he says and while you just smiled and nodded, but on the inside you were screaming.

We.

Elvis and Tracy─God, you could just bust your head through the window right there and then when the word rolled off of his tongue so casually.

So naturally.

You wanted to be part of that ‘we’, of that ‘us’.

Y/N and Elvis.

Elvis and Y/N.

You wanted it so bad.

“And work… is work,” he then adds, snapping you out of your thoughts, which honestly you were grateful for. You had to get rid off those feelings you carried toward him, but he was making it so damn hard.

Why did he have to look so good with that sunkissed skin, blue eyes and dark hair?

Before you were going to start to curse God for creating Elvis Presley, you snapped yourself out of it.

“You’re a singer in one of Honolulu’s most famous clubs, there’s gotta be more to it!” you laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

As he looked at you with a grin on his face and a hint of playfulness in his eyes, you immediately regretted what you had done.

He grabbed onto your knee and squeezed it, all-in good humor, but you felt as if electricity was shooting down your spine.

“Someone did her homework,” he laughed, lingering his fingertips on your knee for longer than necessary. Bare knee, might you add, seeing you were wearing shorts.

Oh, please Y/N.. control yourself.

“I was playin’. It’s fun, it’s real fun and it pays well. I’m definitely taking you there one of these days,” he smiles as he pulled his hand back nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just almost made you moan out loud over a small touch.

You looked at his side profile, the thought of him taking you out to a club out of all places, got you making up all kinds of scenario’s in your mind.

You cleared your throat a little, tugging some hair behind your ear as casually as you could.

“Y-Yeah, that sounds fun. If Tracy hasn’t planned out all of my days here,” you said, half joking, half serious.

With her being a tour guide, you were sure she had made an entire itinerary for you. You hoped not─wanting to just go with the flow with and without her, enjoying yourself rather than feeling like you had to follow a schedule.

“She usually doesn’t come to the club because she has early shifts,” he told you, wiggling his eyebrows playfully at you before he looked back at the road and you chuckled softly, turning back to the gorgeous view to keep your thoughts about the gorgeous man next to you from going to very unholy places. “It’d be nice to have a familiar face cheering me on,” he said, shrugging his shoulders a little as he once again squeezed your knee.

He kept his hand there longer than before, making your skin feel like it was set on fire underneath his palm.

Once again, you just nodded and smiled.

When you finally stepped inside your sister and Elvis’, unfortunately, shared apartment you felt like you could breathe like a sane person again. Tracy ran out of the kitchen and into the living area Elvis took you in, engulfing you into a tight and warm embrace before you could even get out one word.

“My baby! I can’t believe you’re here!” she exclaimed in excitement and you laughed, hugging her back just as tight.

“You’re only three years older, shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully as you pulled back from the embrace and she grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks softly.

“Ssssh, you’re still my little baby,” she shushed you, laughing when you swatted her hands away as she took you to the kitchen, handing you a drink. When she showed you the stocked up fridge and guest bedroom she cleaned spotless especially for you, you couldn’t help but feel guilt settle in your stomach.

You mind wandered back to a year ago when you and Elvis kissed at that stupid party, not even ten minutes after Tracy left it, and part of you just wanted to blurt it out and come clean. You had always been close to your sister and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you would become between her and her boyfriend.

A week in Hawaii went by and Tracy nor Elvis had spend any time with you. You had dinner with both of them the day you arrived, but after that you were pretty much on your own─you didn’t mind that much, seeing you loved exploring on your own just as much.

But whenever Tracy and Elvis were home at the same time, you felt some kind of weird tension between them.

You weren’t an absolute idiot and could see when your sister was hiding something from you.

As Sunday evening rolled around, your peaceful sunny vacation was interrupted by a hurricane.

And it went by the name of Elvis.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Trace! I literally saw you yesterday,” you heard Elvis yell from the living room and you froze in your spot, watching the sunset on the windowsill seat in the guest bedroom.

“You always say you’re working, working, working,” he continued and you quickly tiptoed to the record player that was playing softly on top of the dresser, interrupting Aretha Franklin mid song. You walked over to the door and pressed your ear against it, holding your breath as you shamelessly eavesdropped on your sister and her boyfriend arguing.

“I didn’t know sticking your tongue down the throat of some wall street jerk was on the list of a tour guide’s job descriptions,” he spat at her and you heard her gasp, followed by a scoff and even though you couldn’t see her, you were absolutely sure she was crossing her arms like a child right now.

She kept her mouth shut though, and Elvis continued his little rant.

“I forgave you the first time, because it was only a week after we came to Hawaii. A week, Tracy! But you’re just never gonna change, are ya?”

You could hear his voice cracking at the end, desperation lingering on the back of his tongue and you felt your stomach tightening at his words, feeling bad for him.

Your sister was a free spirit, a soul that wasn’t meant to be bound down by one person─before Elvis, she dated someone new every month, sometimes every weekend, sometimes even multiple people at the same time.

Apparently, things between her and Elvis weren’t going so well as you had thought.

“You just like the attention too much and you’ll do anything to get it, no matter who you fuckin’ hurt in the process,” he sighed deeply and still Tracy didn’t say a word. He seemed to take her silence for an answer because you heard footsteps striding down the hall and their bedroom door slamming shut. A few minutes later, you heard the same door opening again and Elvis’s annoyed voice telling Tracy he was leaving.

As he passed by the guest bedroom, you ran over to the bed and jumped down onto it, grasping one of your magazines from the bedside table to pretend you were reading it.

You’d kinda been expecting the knock but it still made your heart thump wildly in your ears. You tried to sound as casually as you could when you granted Elvis access to the room, hoping he didn’t hear the slight tremble in your voice.

“Hey, little one,” he sighed softly, walking over to the bed as you turned around and slowly sat up. You gave him a weak smile which he returned, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

“Sorry that happened. Are you okay?” you asked in a whisper, feeling a little uneasy about the fact that he was in your room alone while Tracy was in the living room.

He didn’t share the same uneasiness though, dropping the bag he had in his hand next to his feet as he ran his hands down his face.

“I will be,” he mumbled, leaning his elbows on his knees as he kept his face cupped in his hands. “Guess I’ve just been.. blind. Last night wasn’t the first time I’ve caught her kissing some rich stuck up dude and now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I doubt that first week in Hawaii was the first time she did somethin’ like this,” he sighed deeply, shaking his head in his hands a little.

You just sat there for a few seconds, but you couldn’t bare to see him like this.

Mad at your sister and feeling bad for Elvis, you moved to sit next to him and wrapped your arm around his shoulder, ignoring how good he smelled and how his body heat felt so incredibly comforting.

“Why.. did you stay with her when you knew?” you asked carefully, trying not to step on anyone’s toes here.

Rather than getting angry at you for being curious, after all he was the one who came into your room, he just shrugged and groaned deeply, letting himself fall back on your bed after you moved your arm to place a hand on his forearm.

“I don’t know,” he looked up at the ceiling, his hands resting on his chest. “I’m… I was in love,”

You swallowed thickly at his words, looking at the door that was wide open. You could hear Tracy moving around the living room and you quickly shot up from the bed as you heard the sound of her heels clicking down the hall way, giving her your most innocent smile as she appeared in the door opening.

You busied yourself with your record player that you’d placed atop of the dresser.

Rather than looking sad or distraught about the fight she had with her boyfriend, she looked angry.

Angry that she got caught, you thought bitterly to yourself.

She ignored Elvis’ presence and looked at you, smiling softly. “I’ll be staying at a friends’ house tonight, so he doesn’t have to leave. See you tomorrow, chick.”

Blowing you a hand kiss, she turned around and grabbed her purse, leaving the apartment and making sure she slammed the door extra loud for theatrics.

You sighed deeply as you rubbed your temples a little─even though it seemed Tracy brought this upon herself, you didn’t like to see your sister in the state she was in. You were sure the fight between her and Elvis hurt her, at least a little bit, and she wasn’t really helping the situation by going out to spend the night with God knows who. Or maybe you just didn’t know your sister as well as you thought.

You also weren’t happy with the fact that she left you alone with Elvis, even though that little voice in your head was telling you to take your chance now, heart jumping for joy. You wanted to jump his bones more than anything, but the rational part of your brain stopped you, reminding you that that would even be more terrible than what Tracy had been doing behind her boyfriends’ back.

“Maybe you two just need a night apart so you can talk things out. I’m sure everything will be fine tomorrow,” you told him, trying to sound hopeful, as you sat down on the edge of your bed.

You hated saying those words.

You didn’t want things to work out between them. And you were secretly hoping, no.. praying, that Tracy was on her way to one of her boy toys right now to fuck his brains out and forget all about Elvis.

The blue eyed man on your bed let out a small laugh, shaking his head as he put his arms under his head.

“Nah uh, I’m done talkin’. I’m not some random guy she can come home to after she’s done with her little play boys,” he scrunched up his nose at his choice of words, sighing deeply.

You stayed silent for a little bit, crawling up further on the bed so you were sitting next to his head now, looking down at him.

“To be fair,” you started, pulling your legs up to wrap your arms around them. “You kinda cheated on her too,” you blurted out, not knowing where you got the courage from to make out such a bold statement.

It was the truth, though.

He kissed you while he was dating Tracy─the fact that he was drunk while doing so and they hadn’t been together for very long wasn’t an excuse.

His eyes shot open, looking up at you as you looked down at him. A soft smile spread across his face as he noticed your eyes shifting down to his lips and you quickly looked away, which made him sit up immediately.

“I told her about that night,” he said casually and you widened your eyes, your jaw almost dropping to the damn floor.

“You WHAT?!” you exclaimed in shock and he bit his tongue to try not to laugh at the shocked face expression you were wearing.

“It slipped out, alright? I just made up some lame excuse and told her I thought you were her because I was so damn drunk and she believed it,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders and you gasped softly, getting up from the bed.

Rushing your hands through your hair, you paced back and forth in front of him as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

You shook your head, placing your hands on your hips as you came to a stop in front of him.

“You can say whatever you want, but I don’t regret that kiss, Y/N. She was still messin’ around with other guys at that time and I’m a jealous motherfucker,” he smirked as he leaned his hands on the bed behind him and you tried not to look down at his thighs as he manspread so shamelessly and so confidently.

“So, what? You only kissed me because you wanted revenge on my sister? Make her jealous?” you scoffed, crossing your arms tightly in front of your chest. Elvis couldn’t help but chuckle as he thought about how similar yet different you and Tracy were. “I mean, not that I care, because it didn’t mean anything.” you quickly added, looking away from him.

He raised an eyebrow and sat up a little again, reaching his hands out to place them on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

You had to bite your tongue to hold back a squeak, your body feeling like it was set aflame when you were standing in between his long legs, your knees hitting the bed.

“Now I know that’s not true, little one,” he whispered, looking up at you with that damned smirk, hands slowly moving down the fabric of the sleeping shorts you were wearing. “I think you care more than you like to admit,” he hummed and as you felt his fingertips coming into contact with your bare skin, you found the strength in yourself to swat his hands away and take a step back, inhaling a deep breath of air.

“You’re wrong, Elvis. We kissed because we were drunk and that’s it.”

“No,” he said, his voice dropping a few octaves as he was up and in front of you, looking down at you with a small smirk on his face.

No matter how many steps you took backwards, you couldn’t escape him─your hands flew to the edge of the dresser that met your lower back and dug your nails into the wood nervously, ignoring how your heart beat was thumping in your ears.

“We kissed because there was somethin’ there. I felt it and I know you did too,” he stated boldly and you clenched your jaw so hard you wouldn’t be surprised it would dislocate.

All your senses were on high alert when his eyes were drawn to your lips, leaning in closer to you.

You knew his words were true.

There was something, a pull that always drew you closer to him and him to you.

The day Tracy brought him back to the house for dinner with your parents you were already laughing and joking with him. At first, you thought it was just innocent, as did he. Until feelings started to grow, until that damned kiss.

He knew that he wasn’t any better than Tracy in this moment, but now that he was so close to you that he could smell the scent of your shampoo and feel the warmth radiating off of your body, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

A soft gasp left your mouth as he crashed his lips onto yours and he could feel you freeze for a second, until he slid his tongue across your lower lip. You were quick to grant him the access he wanted and deepened the kiss, your arms flying around his neck. He groaned softly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, hand pressed against your back to push you up against his chest.

Alarm bells were going off in your head, but the butterflies that had errupted aggressively in your stomach made you ignore them. You were getting lost in his kiss, touch, scent and could barely think straight as he moved his knee between your legs, lifting it up to press against you.

Even though you were wearing your panties and shorts, your body immediately responded to him─getting so lost in his kiss, your hips started moving slowly, arousal growing as you grinded yourself on his knee. His hands moved to your hips, holding you down onto him firmly as he helped your movements along, groaning deeply in your mouth. You gasped softly and pulled from the kiss, eyes slowly fluttering open.

As he looked at you with a soft grin tugging at his lips, blue eyes twinkling with a mixture of arousal and mischievous, you suddenly realised what you were doing, and with who, and quickly placed your hands against his shoulders, pushing him off of you.

“I can’t… W-we can’t do this, Elvis,” you breathed out in shock, rushing a hand through your hair as you pushed yourself to stand straight, not giving him a chance to speak as you ran out of the room.

You slipped into your shoes by the door, grasping your denim jacket before you left the apartment in a hurry─you had absolutely no idea where you were going, but you needed some time alone.

Time away from Elvis and his abilities to only make you fall for him harder than you should’ve in the first place.

Another week had passed and you hadn’t seen Elvis since that night.

He was gone by the time you came back to the apartment and every time he’d come by to pick up his things, you’d hide out on the balcony with some of Tracy’s friends that seemed to be coming over to hang out more and more, or you were out and about, exploring Honolulu.

You still had not told Tracy about what happened and you also hadn’t talked to her about the fact that she did know about you and Elvis kissing back at home. She also did not mention it and you couldn’t help but feel awkward whenever you were alone with her.

You felt like you were walking on egg shells 24/7.

Your sister either didn’t feel it herself or didn’t comment on it and continued as she always did─she didn’t seem as bothered by the break up as she should, filling up any voids with those ‘wall street jerks’ as Elvis had called them.

Rich, preppy guys that came from New York to Hawaii for business, but were too busy with pleasure instead.

Tracy seemed to have a thing for them, but you hated them. When Tracy arranged a date with one of them for you, you were livid at her but you knew she wouldn’t drop it until you’d say yes, so you eventually accepted just so you wouldn’t have to listen to her going on and on about how much of a great guy this one was.

The wall street guy, going by the name of David, took you to a nightclub named The Clouds. The most current famous one on the whole island, thanks to a certain dark haired blue eyed man you were definitely not ready to face any time soon.

None of your excuses worked on David and he barely listened to you, seeming adamant to get inside of the place. The whole time you were standing in line to get in you were praying to every God that was out there, that Elvis wouldn’t be working tonight.

Maybe it was his night off and he was hanging out with his friends somewhere else, or maybe he had a cold and was sick in bed.

As always, the universe didn’t listen to you and you didn’t even gave yourself a chance to look at the pretty and fancy interior of the place, your eyes glued to the man on the stage, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

His hair was perfectly slicked back, the all black suit he was wearing looking so goddamn gorgeous with that flawless sunkissed skin and bedroom eyes that had every lady in the place hanging on the edge of their seat.

You didn’t even stop your date as he slipped his hand into yours and guided you through a small crowd of dancing people, finding you two a table. While he spotted one and tugged you along, all you could do was stare at Elvis and let your knees grow weaker by the second. Tracy was nowhere on your mind and David sure as hell wasn’t either─until the blonde man snapped you out of it by pulling your chair out and releasing your hand. You looked at him with a confused look on your face, reality slowly creeping its way back in.

“He’s pretty good, isn’t he?” He yelled over the music as you both were seated, pointing a casual thumb Elvis’ way on the stage.

You flashed him a quick smile and nodded, thanking the Heavens when a waitress swung by your table to take your order.

You ordered the strongest cocktail on the menu and tried to engage in conversation with the man in front of you, but the fact that the man you actually loved was catching the attention of all those beautiful girls on the dance floor and David only talked about numbers and money didn’t help to make this evening at least somewhat eventful at all.

You were bored out of your mind, so you decided to seek comfort in your trusty new friend for the evening─your fourth martini.

The slight buzz helped you to forget David’s stories as soon as he finished telling them and even though the man could see you weren’t having a good time, he wasn’t going to give up.

His big ego wouldn’t allow himself to have a failed date.

He grabbed your hand from across the table and you looked at him, squinting your eyes as he rubbed the back of your hand sweetly. He was talking to you─you could see his mouth moving, but your tipsy mind couldn’t make out the words he was actually saying. You bursted out in laughter, thinking it was the most hilarious thing ever and when the waitress came by again, you immediately ordered another round, not caring about David’s protest.

Elvis’ performance was done and when you noticed him hopping off of the stage and making his way to the bar, you looked at David and grabbed your clutch from the table, pointing a finger at him – not even knowing the reason for doing so. He reached his hands out to you when you swayed on your feet, ready to catch you.

It looked as if you were going to say something, but then seemed to forget about it and just laughed before you stumbled away from the seat, giggling at your own antics.

“I’ll have my drink at the bar, pretty lady!” you told the waitress who was still standing by your table and she just laughed as you hooked your arm through hers, letting her guide you to the bar, leaving a flabbergasted David behind.

The waitress left you behind at the bar for one of the bartenders to deal with you and you smiled sweetly at the man as he placed the martini you wanted in front of you. You rumbled through your clutch for a little bit, though before you could pay for your drink, you heard the bartender thanking the person who took his place next to you.

You frowned sassily as you looked up and at the person, letting out a scoff, even adding an eye roll for show. “I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much,” you told the delicious piece of a human being that just paid for your drink.

Elvis chuckled softly, taking a sip of his own drink as he leaned against the bar with his body turned into your direction.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said teasingly, watching you messily shove your dollar bills back into your clutch. You blew a strand of hair out of your face and stole a cigarette out one of the small wooden boxes that stood on the bar for the people to take, lighting it with a match.

“Don’t you have to do your little dance up there to make aaall the girls swoon over you?” you mocked, throwing a sarcastic smile his way before you took a drag from the cigarette, leaving a lipstick print behind on the bud.

You were still extremely in love with him, but the amount of alcohol in your system made you mouthy─vodka had never been your best friend.

“If I saw right, you were enjoying it too, little one,” he hummed in your ear when he took a step closer to you, slipping his arm around your waist. You had to do your best not to leap into a coughing fit, quickly blowing out the smoke from between your lips. “What are you doin’ here with that greasy piggy bank?”

You ignored the way his fingertips were caressing your side through your dress and how deliciously his thumb was pressing at the side of your boob.

You looked at him, letting out a small scoff as you raised an eyebrow. “Jealous, are we?”

“I told ya I was,” he smirked, raising both his eyebrows once tauntingly and you looked over at David, whose eyes were glued on you and Elvis.

You quickly turned back to the man next to you and raised your hand, slapping his upper arm harshly.

“You could’ve called me, you know?!” you suddenly exclaimed, annoyance lacing your tongue, as you pushed him off of you. “Or even come to meet me somewhere. Am I so easy to toy with?”

Elvis put his drink down and moved back closer to you, pulling you flush against his chest as he had turned you to face him properly. You gasped softly, your cigarette nearly dropping from between your fingertips.

“You’re the one who keeps runnin’, beautiful,” he said with a small grin on his lips, staring you down. You didn’t look away, thanks to the liquid courage crawling through your veins, and placed your empty hand against his chest though didn’t push him away.

“What’re you gonna do when I kiss you again?” he whispered, though it was loud enough for you to hear him.

Your ears were ringing and your heart was beating so hard you were sure the bartender could hear it from where you were standing.

Your eyes traveled down to his lips and when his tongue swiped across his lower lip, you threw all caution to the wind and kissed him as if no one was watching. He took your cigarette out of your hand and placed it in one of the ash trays, wrapping his arms around you.

You had no idea what would happen if Tracy ever found out, but right now that was the last thing on your mind.

The vodka on your tongue was almost intoxicating to Elvis and he couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss, sucking on your lower lip as his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing the flesh through the fabric of your dress shamelessly.

The music playing at the club and the sound of people chatting faded far away to the background as your mind filled with only Elvis, his presence and his taste.

He was just as far gone as you, trapping you in between him and the bar, not giving a damn about how obscene you two were being in public.

A loud cough seemed to snap both of you back to reality and when Elvis pulled away from your lips, you turned your head to your left and squinted your eyes a little at David, the intoxication of Elvis and the martini’s still heavy on your mind.

“Sorry, my guy. She’s just not that into you.” Elvis told the blonde male who was looking at both of you with angry eyes, growing even more annoyed when Elvis shrugged casually at his own statement. You hid your mouth behind your fingertips as you tried to hold back a laugh and David just shook his head a little, throwing some money on the bar to pay for the drinks before he turned around and left the club.

You wouldn’t even care if he’d report back to Tracy. Those were worries for later.

“Let’s get out of here,” you said, not caring how you were slurring your words a little. Elvis moved off of you a little bit to give you more space to move around as you took your drink and took a big gulp from it, handing him the glass with the last sip. He downed it in one go and put the glass back on the bar, slipping his hand into yours.

As the bartender noticed you two leaving, he jogged over to the end of the bar, yelling at Elvis how he still had another set to perform but Elvis just ignored him and pulled you through the crowd, out of the club.

You tried to keep up with him as he was running down the street, tugging you along with him as he laughed happily.

His laugh was contagious and you loved the sound of it more than anything in the world─wanted to hear it every second of the damn day.

“Where are we going?” you laughed as he was still running, knowing exactly where to go.

Even if he didn’t, you wouldn’t be worried.

You felt more than comfortable around him and you knew that he’d never let anything bad happen to you.

Your eyes fell down to where your bodies were connected by your intertwined fingers, your heart swelling as he looked over his shoulder with a bright smile on his face. Right here, in this exact moment, you felt the happiest you had ever been in your twenty years of life.

“My place,” he grinned as he stopped running, coming to a halt in front of an apartment complex right across Waikiki beach. “Well, it’s my friends’ place. I’m stayin’ with him for the time being,” he said, giving you a knowing look and you giggled softly, biting your lip as you followed him inside of the building.

He was all over you in the elevator and you were more than happy to allow it, but as the doors opened and he pulled you outside, fumbling with his key at the front door a little bit, you clung onto his arm.

“Is your friend home?”

“Nah, baby, he works as a bartender. Won’t be home until the morning,” he grinned at you, finally managing to get the key in and twist it, opening the door.

The slight nerves you felt melted away again and you pushed him against the nearest wall, throwing the door closed behind you.

You captured his lips in a sloppy kiss as your hands moved to the jacket of the suit he was wearing, opening the buttons with quick fingers before you pushed the fabric off of his shoulders. Pulling back from the kiss, you looked at him as he shrugged the jacket off, admiring how freaking good he looked in the black button up he wore underneath that jacket.

You hooked your fingers behind the fabric of his shirt where he had left the bottons open of it, ripping the shirt open completely. He gasped as he looked at you with wide surprised eyes as his buttons went flying through the entrance of the apartment but you didn’t give him the chance to make a comment on it as you ran your hands down his warm chest, nails scraping softly against his nipples.

He bit his lower lip and wrapped his large hands underneath your thighs─you took the hint and jumped, hooking your legs around his waist as he caught you with ease.

You grabbed his face and kissed him hungrily.

The both of you were too intoxicated with each other to even care about him stumbling into some things before he reached the guest bedroom where he was staying.

Your kiss got interrupted as he threw you on the bed and you looked at him, lifting your torso up a little by leaning your elbows on the bed, biting your lip as he took his ripped shirt off, letting the fabric fall to the floor. He kicked off his shoes before he quickly pulled off your pumps and leaned forward, his hands sliding up your thighs and underneath your dress as you were already kissing him again─open mouthed, sloppy kisses that didn’t take long for you to trail down his jawline and neck.

You could taste his cologne on your tongue and moaned softly against his skin, hands running up through his hair, messing up the wax that he had styled it so perfectly with.

He moaned softly as you sucked on his skin while his fingers hooked underneath your panties, sliding them down and you eagerly allowed him to do so.

If this would’ve happened in your sober state, you would’ve been a lot more shy, but you had been waiting for this moment for so long.

You had been craving him for so long, you just didn’t give a damn anymore.

You spread your legs willingly, exposing yourself to him completely and he slicked back some of his hair with the palm of his hand, hungry eyes admiring your arousal that was glistening in the dim moon light that shone through the room.

The view from the bedroom was gorgeous, but right now he was only interested in the view right in front of his face.

He got on his knees in front of the bed, pulling you closer to him by wrapping his arms around your thighs, keeping your legs spread open. He licked his lips as he shot you a quick wink, sending butterflies throughout your entire body and making your heart leap pathetically in your chest, before he leaned in closer.

The kisses he planted on your inner thighs, moving closer to where you needed him most, felt as if someone was keeping a lit match against your delicate skin.

You didn’t even try for one second to hold back as he placed a soft, tiny kiss right on your clit, letting out a needy whimper. You ran your hands through your hair to get some strands out of your face, not caring at all that you were messing up the updo you had perfected a few hours ago and when Elvis ran his tongue up between your wet folds, flicking at your clit once, you moaned lewdly.

He licked his lips as he lifted his head a little, grinning at you.

‘’Can’t believe I’ve been missin’ out on this for so long- you taste fuckin’ delicious,’’ he whispered teasingly, kissing your thigh once more before he leaned down in between your legs once more.

You were expecting him to tease you until the point of you losing your mind, but he had been waiting just as long for this as you had.

He went in with confidence as he ate you out like a starved man─pretty much making out with your pussy as if he hadn’t had human contact for years.

You were trying to move your hips to his rhythm, arching your back off of the bed but he trapped you by pushing you down with his hand on your lower abdomen, lips wrapping around your clit to suck on it as he looked up at you. He released your left thigh and slipped in two of his digits, making you look down at him and moan desperately as your eyes met his.

He grinned tauntingly as he stuck out his tongue, flicking it against your clit at an unholy speed as his fingers didn’t go easy on you either, pumping inside of you.

One of your hands flew to his hair, tangling your fingers in the raven locks, your other hand squeezing the sheets desperately until your knuckles turned white. Your moans were starting to become soundless, coming out in nothing other than a high pitched gasp or whine. The martini’s you had in the span of an hour or so were making your head spin, along with the orgasm that was fastly approaching.

He could tell you were close with how your walls were clenching around his fingers repeatedly, your hips desperately wanting to move away but he still had you trapped, unable for you to escape the sense of euphoria that was so close.

So close you could taste it, but before it came, he pulled away from you completely.

You gasped as you looked at him with wide eyes, wanting to protest until you saw him stand up and pull down his pants and boxershorts.

“Impatient, little one?” he grinned and you couldn’t help but shamelessly sneak a peek at his cock hitting his lower abdomen when it was freed out of the confinements of his clothing, tip red and sensitive, glistening with precum.

You bit your lip as you looked at him.

“Stop calling me that,” you said, a challenging tone on your tongue and he raised an eyebrow, following you on the bed as you pulled yourself further on it.

“What should I call you then, hmm?” he questioned back just as challenging, grinning teasingly at you as he pulled your dress over your head, throwing it to the other side of the bed. He leaned in closer to kiss your lips softly, creeping one hand behind your back─you arched a little, making it easier for him to unclasp your bra and remove it from your body as he pulled back from your lips.

“Anything but that,” you rolled your eyes, a soft blush creeping on your cheeks despite the confidence you had been feeling tonight.

He slipped his hand in between your bodies, aligning himself at your entrance, a soft gasp leaving your lips.

“What would you like to be called, Y/N?” he hummed, pushing the tip in, keeping still inside of you.

Even though it was hard for him as well, because all he wanted to do was fill you up and fuck you into the mattress, he liked teasing you.

He liked seeing that cute little pout on your lips and those hazy eyes looking at him pleadingly, while your pussy seemed eager to suck him all the way in. And it was, you were, so desperate that it made you want to jump out of your skin.

You tried to push him in deeper by wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your ankles against his lower back but he just clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, raising a teasing eyebrow at you. “Use your words, little baby,”

The pet name he used to call you was cute, but you didn’t wanted him to see you like that anymore. You doubted he ever had though, but you hated it whenever it slipped past his lips now.

You huffed as you moved your hands up his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“Call me baby,” you whispered, trying to thrust your hips forward so you could surprise him, but it’s like he could predict every single one of your movements. He didn’t budge for one second, instead pulling out again, slipping the tip of his cock through your folds, circling against your clit. You moaned softly and looked up into his eyes, silently begging him to just fuck you already. “Call me yours,”

This seemed to send him over the edge and he lowered his cock to your entrance, pushing himself all the way in. You gasped and cursed softly at the, very much so delicious, intrusion. Your hands moved down to his shoulders again, holding onto him firmly as he gave you a few seconds to get used to him before he started thrusting into you, making you moan out in pleasure. He leaned his head down, kissing your neck sweetly.

“You’re mine, baby,” he grunted in your ear, hips picking up their pace more and more. You had your ankles hooked behind his back now, clinging onto him desperately as he was kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Maybe they were empty promises, you had no idea, but right now you were on cloud nine.

Finally in the arms of the man you had loved so dearly in silence for so long.

“You’re all mine,” he whispered, pulling his head back to look down at you. He kissed your lips sweetly and you whined a little as it ended way too soon when he pulled back after a minute and sat back, his knees pressed into the mattress.

It only took a second for him to sink back into you.

His thrusts slowed down as he gently grabbed your thighs and spread them, watching the way his cock disappeared inside of you with every thrust forward and took some of your slick with him with every trust back. You were so gorgeous laying there on his bed, little moans that sounded like the sweetest melody leaving your mouth.

The moment felt extremely intimate, especially with how deep he was reaching, softly hitting your g-spot.

“Fuck, that’s hot. Look at that, baby,” he groaned and you followed his line of sight, moaning at the sight of his cock head bulging in your tummy. He pushed forward and kept still for a little bit, cursing softly as you caressed your hands across your lower abdomen and over the bulge.

You hadn’t slept with many guys, but you’d never experienced this before. It was either because you were slim or because Elvis’ cock was a very good size – more likely, it was probably the cause of both those things.

Elvis was mesmerized, keeping his thrusts slow but firm, eager to see your tummy bulging over and over again.

You moaned as you move your hand on top of the bulge and Elvis grinned a little, gently placing his hand atop of yours so you’d keep it there. “Mmm, baby,” he grunted, his eyes staring into yours. “Feel that? You're so tiny I fill up your entire lil’ tummy- goddamnit, honey..”

His words, the sight of his cock rearranging your insides and the feeling of having him so deep – it was all so delicious that you could barely speak.

The love you felt for this man was completely consuming you and you had no intentions to fight off those feelings anymore. To hell with everyone, you needed him and only him.

“S-So deep...” you stuttered out a moan as you removed your hand, the both of you looking at the way he was filling you up completely.

The sight was sinful, yet so intimate at the same time too. Your bodies fit together like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing all your life and perhaps it was because of the alcohol in your system that you were thinking this man’s soul had a connection to yours, but you believed it.

It sure as hell felt like it.

Elvis continued his slow pace for a little bit until he felt your eager hands roam up his arms and over his shoulders, pleading eyes staring up at him, and your pussy clamping down on his cock.

Once more you could sense that feeling of bliss approaching and he quickly picked up the pace, growling deeply. He looked down into your eyes intensely as his eyebrows knitted together in concetration, hips skilfully thrusting as he moaned at the feeling of you clenching around him desperately, keeping him trapped inside of you.

‘’Oh, f-f-uck,’’ he cursed with a grunt, teeth sinking into his lower lip for a second. ‘’I’m g-gonna cum if you keep doin' that,’’ he warned and you just grinned, being drunk on him, letting your own orgasm rip through you.

He moaned as you were sucking him in even harder during your orgasm and he thrusted harder for a few more times, before he quickly pulled out of you and grabbed onto your thighs, spurts of warm cum landing on your stomach. You reached down to wrap your hand around him, squeezing out every last drop.

His eyes were rolling into the back of his head, head thrown back as his hips stuttered pathetically, moans rolling off of his tongue. You gasped softly at the sight, breathing heavily as he fell down on the bed next to you.

The both of you laid silently for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling to catch your breath.

“Tracy is gonna kill me,” you whispered, placing a hand on your forehead.

You cringed at the thought of Tracy finding out about what happened between you and Elvis─you had no idea if you were even going to tell her, but you kind of felt like you had to.

Besides, they broke up, right?

He was a single man and she seemed to be having her own fun with the men on this island.

She’ll get over it.

Elvis turned his head into your direction and you did the same, meeting his eyes.

“What if you stay here?” he asked softly, moving a little closer to you to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I can stay here tonight,”

“No, not tonight,” he said, and you frowned at him curiously. “I mean, yeah ofcourse you’re stayin’ tonight, but I’m talking about here. Hawaii. With me.”

The thought of you staying behind in Hawaii sounded exciting.

Way more than exciting.

Not even thinking about the fact that your sister would be on the same island, and you had college to go back to, you were sold on the idea as soon as he suggested it.

“I guess I can take a gap year?” you suggested, turning your head back to look up at the white boring ceiling.

Your parents were most definitely going to kill you, or get a heart attack upon hearing the news, but there was nothing else in the whole wide world you wanted more.

Except for maybe the dark haired man that was hovering above you again, smiling brightly as he attacked your face with kisses.

He didn’t even have to convince you further to take this leap of faith─tonight he made you his and you never ever wanted to hand that position to anyone else.

You were more than ready for whatever Hawaii would throw at you, as long as you had Elvis by your side.

taglist: @notstefaniepresley @peaceloveelvis @atleastpleasetelephone @ccab

#elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley #elvis #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x oc #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis fans #elvis fanfiction #tamwrites

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sionisjaune · 20 hours

Note

Neighbour AU + Mutual pining (mickcedes or brocedes please) 💙

[Trope mash up prompts] This might have to become a series, because I got 1k into this and realized I hadn't even gotten to the mutual pining! But here you go, mickcedes monaco neighbours AU:

After breaking up with his girlfriend of four years, Mick musters the courage to ask Seb for his realtor so he can get the hell out of his sister’s place. Gina is awesome—the best sister Mick could ask for—but it’s clear that she’s become somewhat peeved after six weeks of taking care of her older brother.

Seb’s realtor is a terrifying blonde woman named Britta, and when Mick meets her for coffee—black for Britta and a cappuccino for Mick—she pulls up a map of Europe on her phone, holds it out to Mick and says, “Where do you want to go?”

Mick swallows. He has the force of his family’s bank account behind him, which really means he could go anywhere. He pictures himself in the UK, in Greece, in Norway, in a beautiful island cottage in Croatia and says, “I’ve always wanted to live in Monaco.”

“Monaco,” says Britta, tilting her head in consideration. “We can do Monaco.”

Three days later, Britta texts Mick a plane ticket to Nice, the receipt for a rental car, and a link to tour a residential high rise virtually. Mick opens the link and flips through images of a sun-drenched condo on the sixth floor. He’s not much of a designer, but he imagines a dining room table beside the french doors that open onto the balcony, a flatscreen on the wall of the living room, and family photos on the mantel.

He could live with it, he thinks. I like it, he texts Britta.

Britta holds open the door for Mick, awfully gentlemanly, and nods at the doorman like she’s already met him. The lobby is bright and modern, and a plaque made from sun-bleached driftwood reads BIENVENUE on the front desk.

The elevator ride to the sixth floor is uneventful, Britta and Mick leaning against opposite walls. The floor numbers tick upwards on the LED panel above the door. Britta tucks her hands behind her back and assesses Mick coolly.

“You know,” she says, conversationally. “If Sebastian ever treats you unfairly, you can tell me, and I’ll sort him out. He can be a selfish little man when he isn’t thinking straight.”

“Thanks,” Mick squeaks, willing the elevator doors to open. It’s difficult to categorize anything Seb does as unfair when Mick still has stars in his eyes looking at him. It’s Sebastian Vettel, his dad’s protege.

“I’m serious,” says Britta, fiercely.

As if sensing Mick’s discomfort, the elevator jolts to a halt, and a ding signals their arrival at the sixth floor. Britta makes an after you kind of gesture, and Mick slips out of the elevator.

When Mick and Britta are done touring the apartment, Mick accepts Britta’s offer to show him around the city. He’s been here before on family vacations, but not since… Well, that doesn’t bear thinking about.

Britta locks the door to the apartment behind them, and Mick turns around to stride towards the elevator, and runs smack into another body carrying a box of something green.

“Desole,” says Mick, mustering disused French. He shoots an arm out to help the stranger balance his box of what looks like—asparagus and artichokes and various varieties of leafy greens.

“Pas grave,” says the stranger, clutching his box of produce to his chest. Mick pulls back, and the stranger transfers the box to one arm, using his freed hand to sweep the hair out of his eyes.

The stranger is bright blonde with fine wrinkles at the corners of turquoise eyes like he’s older than his otherwise smooth features suggest. He’s dressed in linen from head to toe, a pair of designer sandals on his feet that Mick only recognizes from his mother’s beach wardrobe.

Britta snorts behind him. The stranger looks past Mick and wrinkles his nose at her.

The awkward encounter is over in a matter of seconds, and the stranger is brushing past Mick, presumably to get to his apartment, while Britta ushers Mick towards the elevator. Mick shakes his head clear while Britta pushes the button for the lobby.

“Do you know him?” Mick asks.

“Ha,” says Britta, a thin smile growing on her jaw. “Sebastian does. That’s Nico Rosberg, an angel investor in the sustainable energy sector. He lives in Monaco with his husband, a designer.”

“Rosberg as in Keke Rosberg?” says Mick.

“That’s the one,” says Britta.

A month later, Mick finds himself on a plane to Nice for the second time, his most important belongings crammed in a mountain of suitcases and stowed with the rest of the luggage. Seb offered to fly with him and help Mick set up, but Mick felt somewhat guilty for stealing Britta for so long and wanted to prove to no one in particular that he could make the move by himself.

He retrieves his new keys from the front desk, and after an afternoon he has most of the important things assembled, which is to say a toaster, an espresso machine and a bedframe. He opens his laptop and half-heartedly scrolls through an online furniture store, but gives up on the third page of bespoke credenzas. He doesn’t even know where he would put a credenza.

In the end, he wraps himself up in the one sheet he bothered to bring with him and passes out on top of the mattress.

Mick wakes to a knock on his door. He experiences a fleeting thought that he’s still staying with his sister, and it’s her boyfriend knocking on the door to take her out for breakfast before he realizes he’s in his new apartment in Monaco and Gina is thousands of kilometres away. He flings the sheet off his torso, still wearing yesterday’s t-shirt and joggers, and slogs through the apartment to answer the door.

When Mick tugs the door open, Nico Rosberg is standing on the other side, a basket of greens once again clutched in his hands. Another man, with a deeper complexion, stylish facial hair, and a face stacked with piercings, stands at his shoulder, looking somewhat bored.

“Hi?” says Mick, uncertain.

“Hello neighbour!” says Nico Rosberg, foisting the basket on Mick. “We wondered when you’d move in. I’m Nico, and this is my partner Lewis. We live two doors down.” Nico gestures vaguely at the other end of the hallway. “Lewis, say hello,” he sing-songs.

“Hey, man,” says Lewis.

“Uh,” says Mick, struggling under his new armful of kale and other vegetables. “Thanks? Can I…” he glances backwards into the apartment and notes the kitchen, which is empty of everything but the toaster and coffee machine. “Invite you in for coffee?”

Nico laughs ebulliently. “Of course not. We wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of your hospitality when you’ve just moved in. If you need anything from us, though, just knock.” He grins flatly at Mick, lips closed. Something about it reminds Mick of Britta.

“Thanks,” says Mick. “I’ll just…” he breaks off.

“Great,” says Nico, still smiling his flat smile. “Wonderful to meet you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around.”

Nico spins on his heel, links his arm through Lewis’s and tugs him down the hall. Mick blinks, steadying himself, and nudges the door closed with his foot, hauling the basket of produce into the kitchen. He sets it on the counter and pulls back to scrutinize it. What the fuck is he going to do with 10 kilos of kale?

#trope mash up prompts #mickcedes

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milflewis · 1 day

Note

ok but mob au

“You really didn’t know who I work for?”

When Yuki found out that Pierre’s boss is the Sebastian Vettel, the Lion of Singapore, and the unofficial heir to Schumacher & Co., he had only raised his eyebrows. Pierre took that to mean he had already figured it out.

Yuki blinks at him. “No.”

“But.” Pierre frowns. “Why did you — I always have so many knives on me! Is this not weird to you?” He gestures at his jacket which hangs open, showing four different perfectly sharpened blades tucked into the lining.

Yuki shrugs. “You are French, yes? You like to cut things. Like cheese.”

Pierre mouths wordlessly. Cheese.

“Anyway,” Yuki adds. “You are weird, so. This would not be weird.”

The first time Sebastian meets Lewis, his runners are wet with Michael’s blood and Lewis’s hands are pressing his head into the glass door. His face aches, nose throbbing.

“Can I help you?” he says, or tries to say. It comes out vaguely smushed.

He pushes back a little just to see. Lewis lets him move half an inch before shoving him back.

“Jesus, Hamilton,” Sebastian hears Michael say. His voice cracks roughly. Sebastian nearly cried when the doctor told him Michael survived the surgery, that they got all the bullets out and he was in recovery. He swallows thickly, as the relief makes him all dizzy even now. “I know you got out today but c’mon, let him go. This is Sebastian — I talked about him.”

The hands on Sebastian’s neck disappear and he’s rubbing at his jaw when he turns around. “Ow,” Seabastian tells Michael. His cheeks are pale and his chest is wrapped in white bandages but his eyes are alert and he is grinning.

“Sebastian, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis, Sebastian Vettel. Mika says we are all friends here.”

He pats Mika’s ankle that is propped up on the bed beside his hip. Mika’s eyes stay closed, arms folded in his chair, chin on his chest. There are dark bruises under his eyes under now.

“Right. If Mika says so.”

Lewis steps back towards Michael’s bed, grabbing the duffle bag from where it was leaning against the wall. Sebastian looks at his bare arms, the tattoos that go all the way down to his fingers, the rings there. His jeans sit low on his hips. He needs a shave. Sebastian recognises him from his mugshot, even of his hair is longer now and his face is more lined.

They hadn’t had the time to arrange for Michael to share a cell with someone affiliated with them, and when they had got in contact with him, a week later, he had settled in well enough with his cell mate. By Michael standards at least.

Does not talk much, Michael had told Sebastian over the phone. Likes his fucking singing though. Stares at the picture of his dog. Do you think he is lonely?

When Sebastian had brought it up with Mika, the best person for this kind of thing when Corinna is away, Mika had only shrugged, and told him that he doesn’t think it is just Hamilton that is lonely, and that of fucking course anyone who could survive nine weeks in solitary with just Fernando Alonso as company in the next cell over is someone that Michael would find interesting.

Sebastian looks away from the breadth of Lewis’s shoulders in his white tank and pulls a face at Michael’s waggling eyebrows.

“How old do you think I am?” Jenson asks, as Alex adjusts his long-rifle until it sits comfortably against his shoulder, supported by the flat roof they are lying on.

Alex doesn’t answer, because he knows exactly how old Jenson is, and the fact that people continue to tell Jenson to his face that he looks ten years older than his actual age will never stop being funny.

“Ollie, how old do you think I am?” Jenson calls.

“Jen, leave the kid alone,” Alex says. “You could dye your hair.”

“Do I look like a man who would dye his hair solely to stave off questions about his age?”

“Yes,” Alex sweeps the street below them, marking the buildings bracketing the shop they are surveilling. “Ollie, how are you doing over there?”

He can hear him scramble around for a second before a burst of static. “Radio ready for orders, sir.”

Alex grimaces, still not used to that, as Jenson only laughs beside him.

“Michael? We got him.” Eddie leans back against the closed door.

Michael hums, closing his leather notebook. He leaves his fountain pen tucked into the middle so he remembers what month of intakes he was going over.

“Send him in.”

The kid’s hair is long and dirty, falling into his eyes and around his ears. His knees are all busted up under his baggy shorts. His face is drawn and thin, and he is glaring at Michael, jaw clenched.

He goes all pale when he sees who sits in front of him. Seems like he didn’t know whose car it was.

“Jesus,” Michael says. “You’re tiny, how did you reach the pedals?”

This morning, the kid — Sebastian Vettel, Michael had asked around — had hot wired Michael’s car in under two minutes and driven away. Michael had watched from the restaurant’s window, amused and impressed.

Mika had been decidedly less so when Michael told him, ten minutes later, that they were going to have to order a cab.

“I’m not that short!” The glare intensifies. His eyes are kind of freaky, Michael thinks. Very big and bright.

Michael holds out a hand, level with his chest, and squints. He lowers it considerably. Sebastian looks like he wants to bite it.

“Of course not,” Michael tells him soothingly. Eddie gives him a reproachful look. Michael holds back his eyeroll but takes his hand out of reach of Sebastian’s mouth.

“I have a job for you,” Michael says, watching Sebastian’s eyes sharpen. He smiles thinly. “If you’re up for it.”

“A job. For me? What kind of job?” Sebastian tilts his head to the side, making his eyes wide. His curls tumble across his forehead. The whole effect is rather sweet, Michael considers, delighted. This will be interesting.

Mika has been nagging at Michael to stop picking up strays but he thinks he will agree with Michael on this one.

Michael stretches out his back, legs interlocked at the ankles, until something clicks along his spine. He exhales slowly, sinking back into the shitty mattress.

They called for lights out fifteen minutes ago. Lewis is still in the bunk above him. Michael looks at the scratches across the metal rods. He had a good workout today, no interruptions, and his arms are nicely sore.

Seventeen minutes.

Lewis moves in his bed, rolling over to the right and for a moment, Michael thinks he will roll right off the edge, but then he is swinging down, silent. Michael holds himself very still.

"I am not interested in fucking."

"Yeah," Lewis says. "I heard."

Michael swallows. The sharpened edge of Lewis's plastic spoon presses into his throat. Lewis is dense and solidly heavy, knees on either side of his hips, one foot digging into his knee.

Michael has seen him fight. In an enclosed space like this, and unarmed, he isn't sure who would come out the better. His fingers itch with excitement.

"I found the picture you left," Lewis says quietly. The spoon doesn't move an inch. His eyes gleam in the dark like an animal.

"Okay," Michael says, not bothering to pretend not to know what he is talking about.

Lewis was fine this morning. He hummed to himself the entire way to breakfast, and he spotted Michael in the gym without even being asked. It wasn't until after dinner that he went all weird and still in himself.

Lewis presses down, just a little. Michael raises an eyebrow.

"Is he alive?" Lewis asks like he doesn't want to show his hand but is doing so anyway. His mouth trembles at the corners. Michael frowns at him. He has seen Lewis hustle in the yard at card games enough times to know that his poker face is better than this.

"Is he."

Oh. Jesus.

Michael laughs. It is too loud of a sound for where they are. He laughs anyway.

"You have issues," he tells Lewis, who only sends him a cutting look.

"That was supposed to make you feel better! Stop crying and all. You miss him, yes? Thought I could help."

Lewis stares at him. Blinks those animal eyes.

Michael makes a frustrated sound in the back of his mouth. He misses Mika. He never has to talk when Mika is around.

"He is being taken care of in that shelter you put him in. I had my people check. I was being nice! Friendly too!"

"We're friends," Lewis says slowly as if he expects Michael to say no.

"Obviously. You are being ridiculous," Michael says. "You think I would kill a dog? No!" He is a little hurt.

"You are the chief suspect in fifteen open murders," Lewis says, flat.

"Not of dogs!"

Lewis looks at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. "How are you still alive, man? For real? I thought it was a threat."

He pushes off Michael and pulls himself up onto the top bunk, as silent as he climbed down at the start.

"No one else would see this as a bad thing."

He can hear Lewis roll his eyes.

"Literally every other person here would think you were sending a message. And not a good one."

"I was being nice!"

There is a clang of metal against metal, and their cell bars rattle. "Oi! You two! Shut the fuck up. Save the fighting or fucking for the morning."

"Gross, man," Lewis says, and Michael kicks at the underside of his bunk. "You are gross."

Maybe Mika was right when he said that Lewis might not take his generosity in the way he wanted it, Michael considers. He decides not to tell him. He would be too smug if he did.

He palms the sharpened spoon that Lewis had held to his neck and left on his pillow, beside his cheek. It is small and narrow. Michael presses his thumb against the slice, feeling it. He smiles, and tucks it under his sheet. He had needed a new one.

+1.

Sebastian had been small when Michael met him. All eyes and bony knees and dirty hair.

Then he opened up his mouth and his personality crawled out.

Michael has never looked back.

#listen. i entertain myself #sewis #yukierre #makkinen #five head cannon ask game #kyle tag #niamh.asks

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kitchenisking · 20 hours

Text

Day 1

Happy Passover! there will be a rec for everyday of passover so keep an eye out! Enjoy guys!😘

I could be anyone but your friend by devilscut - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 25,663, sterek)

The aftermath of the nogitsune's possession of Stiles has ended up in a very strange and almost unlikely relationship forming between Stiles and Derek Hale. After saving Stiles and regaining his alpha-hood while doing it, Stiles has come to only feel safe when around the werewolf. Sometimes when the memories and the panic attacks are too much they both need more than simple companionship or hugs. Stiles sometimes needs to let go of his control and Derek sometimes needs to take it into his keeping.

For better, for worse by Vendelin - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,336, sterek)

Derek and Stiles have been married for six years. Derek loves his job as a successful lawyer, loves his financial security and his large house. It isn’t until Stiles gets shot while working that he starts to understand that maybe Stiles isn’t loving their life as much as Derek is.

Keep the Demon At Bay by EvanesDust, idratherwrite - (Rating: T, Words: 7,485, sterek)

Stiles wakes up with four years of his life missing(fail). He also has a really hot boyfriend(win) and is friends with Jackson(undecided). He hasn't lost his memory for no reason, however, and the one responsible has plans.

Last Year's Predictions Didn't Come Out Quite As Expected by stilinskisparkles - (Rating: Mature, Words: 8,526, sterek)

A year ago if someone had told Stiles he'd be going to prom with Erica Reyes and that Derek Hale would be lounging on his bed watching him dither over outfits, gaze ranging from amusement to lust filled every other minute Stiles would have punched them in the face. Or maybe tossed holy water on them.

Big Days by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli) - (Rating: T, Words: 9,692, sterek)

It’s an impulse really, inviting Derek to spend Thanksgiving with him and his dad. The Sheriff. Who once arrested him. It’ll be fine. Stiles is sure it’ll be fine.

Stay with me by Beautiful_noise - (Rating: T, Words: 2,740, sterek)

Derek gets a glimpse of the future in which Stiles has two biological daughters and that's how he knows he and Stiles are going to break up.

Baby You Got A Bright Future Behind You by werewolvesandarrows (nerdy_farm_girl) - (Rating: T, Words: 3,056, sterek)

Stiles loves going to the dentist. Loves it. He gets that it’s kind of strange, he does. Scott hates going to the dentist, hates it even more now that he and Kira have the twins and it costs like a million bucks or something every trip (or well, maybe not a million bucks but Stiles generally zones out once Scott starts to rant about money. He definitely doesn’t love talking about money). But Stiles is blessed to have a job with good dental coverage, and a visit to the dentist doesn’t usually come with a big bill. It does however come with hygienists and a dentist that are smokin’ hot.

What the Hell is a Stiles? by TheRealDanniX - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 4,901, sterek)

A witch takes Stiles' memory while he's on the job and Derek gets stuck babysitting. Not that he really minds. In fact, it may be just what he needs.

One Door Closes by KouriArashi - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 27,794, sterek)

Derek knows that Stiles is too young for him, but Stiles doesn't agree. Eight years after Derek rejects him due to the age gap, they meet again where Derek has settled in Wyoming as a ranch hand, and Stiles is the new deputy, and still pissed as hell about the way Derek turned him down. Things don't go as either of them planned. (I'm sure a million fics have been written about older Stiles and Derek, but this one has cowboy Derek, does that help?)

This Entire Time by Itsreallyjustforresearch83- (Rating: T, Words: 1,982, sterek)

Lydia and Jackson were minding their own business when they stumbled across their Alpha and their Emissary acting very...couple-y. But when they brought it up to still-somehow-not-dead Peter, he just laughed and said it's not his place to share.

Lydia and Jackson think they discover something new and exciting, AKA the two idiots they've been watching dance around each other for the last four years FINALLY getting somewhere. Turns out, it's not that new of a thing and only Peter seemed to know about it.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs

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blueberrypancakesworld · 3 days

Text

The meeting of the four revenants

David/Dwayne/Paul/Marko x fem!reader

warning : tiny comfort, war, blood and injury mild, no use of Y/n

Summary : The four vampires from Santa Carla are a group that goes back a long way, but what if you look back…to the century when they themselves got the bite of death and took their first victim?

Info : So this little based on the wonderful hc from @williamprattz I love the gifs and check out the blog also the four posts @misslavenderlady made on the backstory are excellent. Have fun reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

David : The castle of the king great, far under the rule of Henry the eighth a man feared by many for various reasons but especially for the fear of the women at court whether his wives or the highborn ladies who had to stay here as "honor" without the protection of their husband…especially her without a husband.

Sitting in the wooden chair, the dark dress on her body showing that she was grieving even though this protection would not last much longer.

Looking at the fire it disgusted her to imagine how the king could simply force her. ,,Have mercy god i beg you" she murmured praying again and was about to reach for the scriptures when she heard a noise outside.

She saw the footsteps of a man stumbling and someone who seemed to be in pain cautiously approaching the small window and she saw the silhouette of a man on the castle walls below her window. That's Ser David she thought, recognizing the blond hair and dark clothes of the young knight who had recently won the tournament, outstanding leadership skills.

Lifting her dress slightly to get down the stairs faster, she scurried past the torches, trying not to run into the guards, and arrived with difficulty on the castle wall. ,,Ser David," she said anxiously and saw the man, only a year older than her, leaning against the cold, stony castle wall.

His breathing was heavy and yet barely recognizable, his face contorted in pain and confusion, and she let out a startled sound when she saw the blood on his neck.

Before his blue eyes, cold as winter, settled on her, ,,My lady, you startled me…you-you shouldn't be out here at this late hour," he murmured, straightening up with difficulty and threatening to topple over before she supported him, his bloody hand clutching her dress and staining her hand as she slowly propped him to the ground.

,,Don't say that, my David, your wound is that a bite?" she asked, not realizing how close she was to him, how worried she was, her heart beating fast as she tried to call for help…not wanting the man she truly loved to be taken from her.

But just as she was about to rise, he grabbed her hand almost painfully and pulled her back to him, wrapping his bloody hands around her, seeming to press himself against her warm body. ,,One bite was enough" he murmured and she didn't understand was it a bite that had made him so weak?

Was he talking about a beast? Turning her head slightly, she was about to ask him when she was startled to see cold blue eyes looking at her, a mouth hiding sharp fangs and the bite of a revenant, a monster of the night.

Letting his name slip from her lips to plead with him, it was too late as the vampire's teeth bared into her neck more inexperienced than his lord, searching for blood for his victim…for a victim he perhaps hoped to convert out of love so as not to walk alone in infinity, blood staining the moon and the young undead knight disappearing with the highborn lady.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dwayne : The year 1650s under the reign of the Habsburg Emperor Ferdinand the third spread of power, conspiracies and marriages. A time of faith a time of faith in monasteries in which, alongside the numerous monks and nuns, there was also a young woman among the holy sisters of faith.

In the cool room behind the thick stone, she lay on her straw bed unconscious and not tired, thinking about the day, the bed, the food, the planting of herbs in the gardens and the reading from the Bible…and him.

Sin in the eyes of the others, but they needed him, the merchant who supplied them with goods they could not get for themselves in the cooler months.

Tall, silent, long black hair and his dark engaging eyes. Thoughts that made her own sin and she pulled the blanket from her body and stood up, still dressed in her dark uniform, to go out.

Wanting to go to bed, wanting to turn to the flowers, wanting to calm down. As she walked out across the hope, she saw behind the clouds that the sun was already rising, a beautiful moment that was interrupted by a crash.

She listened attentively to the sounds coming from the small storeroom where the garden tools, baskets and seeds for the herbs were kept. ,,An animal?" she asked herself and plucked up her courage to go towards it and the closer she got, she heard heavy breathing, pained noises and more noises.

,,God help me," she murmured, making a criss-cross movement before she opened the door and almost screamed when she saw him dart out of the darkness.

His cool hand gripped hers and he pulled her into the storeroom. ,,Dw-Dwayne what are you doing here?" she asked in confusion, smelling something like burning besides earth and stone but no fire seemed to be burning or was it coming from outside.

His dark eyes were on hers, she saw how tense he was when he didn't let go of her. ,,Sorry for breaking in…you shouldn't be here…not with me" he mumbled seeming to want to turn away from her but wincing painfully his shirt which was under his coat as far as she could see seemed burnt, his skin smelled burnt and his face was sore saying more than she needed to know.

,,I'll help you" came faster than it should have, she wanted to pull him out of the room, wanted to heal him, wanted to have him with her but he wouldn't let her instead he pulled her in for a hug she only saw his gaze for a moment but he was full of determination.

She saw in the distance that the sun was slowly rising, it hurt him and she mumbled a ,,Forgive me but I just need this my dear" she felt him almost leaving an apologetic kiss on her neck before her scream echoed in the room as his teeth sank into her neck.

She had invited the devil into the monastery and he had gone out of the sacred halls with her to devour her soul and take her with him to hell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paul : America a land of aspiration, of ideas and innovation, a land of violence and weapons, a land that boomed with the industrial revolution, a land that had dark alleys and corners, a land that was full of dreams, a land of immigrants who came on steamships, a land that was home to everything and everyone.

A land that saw the end of many groups and a land that under high industrialization became something that hardly anyone had seen before. A country that was a home for travelers, a home for a young woman who traveled across the states on the newest train in her own compartment.

A modern train with lights and technology that still seemed new, a train that would take her to her destination, but also a train that was noisy. The noises of the night and the shining kept her awake and she decided to go on a little journey of her own through the train even if she needed the sleep because of her new job as a librarian and yet what did a little walk do?

Leaving her compartment and saying hello to a few waiters and others who were on their way to the bathrooms or returning from the bar in the dining car, she got closer and closer to the end of the train.

The last compartment was the one where the suitcase and luggage, which was too big for the compartment, were already on their way back, when she suddenly heard a rattling and banging noise as if the luggage had fallen over.

Not that it was of any concern to her, but the thought that her books, documents and important files might crumple made her a little nervous.

Putting her hand on the handle, she went into the compartment and saw in the swinging light that not only one suitcase had fallen over, but apparently the entire back row, the row where her suitcase was. ,,Hello? Is anyone there?" she asked into the semi-darkness, hoping that an employee was here to take care of it, otherwise she would have had to fetch one.

But when she noticed a movement among the suitcases, she hurried away. What if someone was under there? hurt? or worse? "Is that someone…please miss," she heard a male voice from under the luggage and she began to remove it as quickly as she could.

She looked underneath and after the perosn could make out the blond tangled hair, she saw the beautiful expression and yet a smile on his lips. ,,Thank you dear miss…you are my savior he said and slowly rose with her help before she could ask what had happened she was startled when she saw the blood on his neck.

,,You're hurt wait here" she said and pulled out her white cloth to stop the bleeding slightly but instead he grabbed her hand and gave her an almost suggestive look through the pain. The worry she had felt turned to fear but that look seemed like something else.

,,That's all right, darling, I just need this," he replied and she felt him snatch the cloth from her hand and pull it towards him, the pain starting from her neck and slowly staining the cloth on the floor with blood.

The unknown traveler disappeared into the darkness and another woman on a train journey to a new land vanished, leaving only the bloody cloth behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marko : War and death and suffering are concepts that were part of the everyday life of the population. The soldiers at the front, the suffering starving population, the perishing groups and the nurses and paramedics who lay at the front and in the hospitals. It was a time when people were dying and dying every day.

A time of blood and death, a time when everyone was fighting for their lives and they almost blocked out the screams they could no longer see. The field bed in the medical tent, which was more bad than good, stood on the muddy ground that was only sporadically covered with stone.

They were not completely at the front and yet every moment seemed to be the last, of which the blood on her apron was just one. ,,How much longer can this go on?" she asked herself, as she did every day, and put the medicines back in the boxes, which were already too few, but she had to carry on.

Giving up was not an option, they either had to win and that was the best solution or lose and they were all doomed, but that couldn't happen. However, she wanted to at least get some rest and go to the small compartment with the sisters and lie down on the cot.

Just for a moment, closing her eyes, she heard it…that sound…the sound of pain and suffering. But from whom? An enemy or the ally?

She didn't know and so her hand automatically reached for her first aid bag and took a lamp and, even though she hated it, a pistol. Neither practiced nor ever killed anyone but who knows who it was. She took one last look back and stepped out of the tent, looked around in the dark and saw the person crawling out of one of the trenches.

Holding the lamp in front of her, she saw with some reassurance that it was one of the uniformed Italians. ,,Hold out," she shouted as loudly as she could without raising the alarm and rushed over to the injured man who was on the ground and struggling to regain his strength. ,,Wait here, I'll help you? What happened? Where have you gone?" she asked, turning off the lamp and helping him to lie on the floor as best she could.

But as far as she could see, he only seemed to be injured in the neck, which was dangerous but not necessarily fatal. ,,Thank you my angel," he murmured and even though she knew that for many she was an angel of death or the angel of healing, he wasn't supposed to die, the bite-like injury didn't seem deep enough for that.

,,It's all right, everything will be all right again," she said and turned to her bag to take out the compress and the bandage when she saw him suddenly sit up as if he wasn't in pain, as if he had found something new and that look in his eyes, that look that looked like a hundred things, frightened her.

His hand stopped her from putting the bandage around his neck where the compress should have been. ,,Everything will be all right now," he replied, stifling her protests and questions by biting into her neck and pulling her down into the ditch with him.

In this blood-red night, he only left behind her bag in which the bandage and compress were still missing and were never meant to heal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #tlb david x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #tlb paul x reader #tlb marko x reader

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aislynn-wiley1999 · 2 days

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Wandering Eyes

Summary: Aislynn goes to the Yule Ball with Sebastian, but her eyes keep wandering to another boy across the room.

Chapter 19 of my Fic “Three Headed Serpent” which can be found here on AO3 :)

Content: Alcohol, mention of sex, forced kissing, angst, jealousy.

Word Count: 2.2k

Imelda is fretting by her bed, occasionally holding pieces of jewelry up to me for an opinion as she tries to match things to her dress. I occasionally nod, not really paying attention to her vain worries as she hastily plans her outfit for the Yule Ball. I organized my attire last week, not wanting the very thing Imelda is going through to consume me at the last moment.

“You’re acting as if the ball is your funeral, Aislynn,” Imelda states, still rummaging through her jewelry case. A sour look goes across my face at her words. I was trying to be excited, I really was, but I could not convince myself of the emotion. Things should be better this year than last year. I have a date, a dress that I did not throw together at the last second, and two idiot boys will not have a jealous filled spat in the hallway because of me. So why was I not excited?

“I just think I’m regretting not having experienced more of these events,” I tell Imelda, pressing a smile to my face to mask my apathetic feelings. She shrugs, buying my excuse. “They are only really fun when you’re older. My first few balls were awkward and full of puffy dresses and boys who were too scared to ask for a dance. Thank Merlin, someone decent has asked me this year.”

Imelda had been asked a week or two ago by another boy in Slytherin, someone I really only knew in passing, named Luther. I hadn’t even known that she fancied him, but Imelda had been trying out many different boys since the start of the term. Always searching for one more interesting, more handsome than the last. Luther, who was tall with jet black hair, seemed to at least fall into the latter category.

“Luther is certainly handsome,” I say, trying to get her to talk about him so that I don’t have to comment on her jewelry anymore. Imelda beams, clearly pleased with the boy she has snatched up as a date for tonight.

“Isn’t he? I finally got a good one,” she says, holding a pair of earrings up to her ears. “What do you think of these?”

Looking at the earrings in depth, I smile and nod. They were pretty, everything she had shown me was pretty. “Are you going to get ready soon?” I ask, wanting an excuse to start getting my hair ready.

“I think I need to, it’s almost four o’clock, we have to be ready in a few hours,” she says. “Can you help me with my hair?”

I grin. “Of course, only if you help me with mine.”

Imelda throws her head back in a laugh. “Deal. Not like you have much hair to work with, anyways.”

—-----------------------------------------------

In the small mirror in our room, Imelda admires her final form before we depart to the hall. She looks lovely, dressed in a purple gown with enough gold jewelry to draw anyone’s eyes towards her. I plaited her hair, coiling it at the nape of her neck, and she has rouge on her face so that she constantly looks like she’s blushing.

“God, I look pretty,” she says, clearly pleased with the end goal. “You want a go with the mirror?”

Stepping aside, she allows me to gaze at myself in the small looking glass. I barely recognize myself, the girl in the mirror is such a stark contrast to my normal sullen self. The dress, dark blue with black lace, is more beautiful than I could have imagined. My hair, which has grown over time, sits a bit past my shoulders. Imelda masterfully pulled back the scrawny pieces in the front, twisting them and pinning them away from my face. I allowed her to apply the tiniest bit of rouge to my face, causing me to glow pink.

The real star is the jewelry I wear. Silver earrings, dangling with a pearl at my lobe. And my necklace. The very necklace Sebastian gave me, over a year ago. It was the one silver necklace I had, and it seemed fitting to allow him to see me in it. Looking at it, sitting against my chest, all I could notice was the small phrase carved in braille. What it meant to me, and how it could only be interpreted by one.

Pushing the thought away, I smile at myself in the mirror. Imelda is behind me, grinning, clearly pleased with her work. “You look absolutely ravishing. Sebastian will probably eat you alive.”

I have to force myself to not drop the smile on my face. I was not upset about going with Sebastian, but I knew to him it meant something different than it did to me. It meant lust, sex, courting, my lips on his. And I didn’t want that, any of it, anymore.

Imelda makes a comment regarding the time, and she pulls me away from the mirror. “We must go now, it started fifteen minutes ago, and I don’t want Luther to wait on me!” I let her drag me out of the room and through the common room towards the hall, where our dates planned to meet us.

I spot Sebastian before he spots me, and I can’t help but still admire how much effort he is willing to put into himself for fancier events. Dressed in all black, his hair less messy than usual, he looks handsome. He is handsome. And when he turns and spots me, it all almost seems like it’s going to be okay.

He looks as though he has been petrified, his body still as his eyes take me in. Mouth agape, he starts to walk towards where Imelda and I are, his pace hurried. Once he is a few feet from us he stops, and just admires me. Admires my dress, my hair, my shining face, the shy smile I give him. And even though Sebastian is just my friend, and I want nothing more from him, I eagerly take his hand when he offers it to me.

Waving quickly at Imelda, I let Sebastian pull me into the hall. “You look beautiful, Aislynn,” he tells me, his voice deep and hushed. “Want to get a drink?”

I nod and allow him to steer me towards the tables full of food and drinks. He pours us two glasses of some red liquid, and then quickly pops out a flask and pours something stronger into them. I drink, the flavor of the alcohol being masked by something pleasant and sweet. My eyes scan the room, pausing on Poppy and Garreth, and I smile. Despite not wanting to pursue each other romantically, the two still enjoy each other’s company and came together as friends for the night. I keep my eyes moving, trying to see who all is here, before pausing again when I see a patch on blonde hair.

Ominous is seated, alone, at a table in the corner. I try not to stare at him for too long, but I can’t help it. Since our last meeting on my birthday, I have longed to talk to him again. Aout anything or about nothing, but just to hear his voice. It was driving me mad, and I don’t even know why.

I am drawn away from Ominis when Sebastian plucks my cup from my hand and hauls me out to the dance floor. I let him grip my waist, placing my hands on his shoulders, and allow him to pull me close to him. The music is slow, but loud enough that people cannot hear what he is saying to me.

“I feel as though I have never seen another woman when I look at you. You are the prized possession to have at this ball,” he says, his voice ragged in my ear. “What I would not do to be alone with you at this moment.”

I don’t even know what to say in response to these things. His bold, unashamed comments only make me blush in embarrassment. I don’t want him to say these things to me, especially not while Ominis is in my direct line of sight. I gaze at him from across the room, before mumbling a quick thank you to Sebastian. My eyes can’t seem to leave the boy across the room, the one who can’t meet my stare.

The song ends and I start to pull myself away from Sebastian, my eyes still on Ominis. When Sebastian sees my face, he starts to follow my eyes to where they are directed. I look away, not wanting to be caught staring at his friend, but I am too late. He sees exactly who I am fixated on, and his expression sours.

“Am I not suitable company for you?” he says, his tone showing that he is hurt. I shake my head quickly, a fake smile on my lips. “Sorry,” I tell him, “I think I just zoned out for a bit. You look wonderful tonight.”

That last bit seems to do the trick, his smug grin emerging and the upset look fading on his face. Music starts again, another song to sway to, and he pulls me close again. I allow him to lead me all across the dance floor, my dress swirling each time we turn.

“Aislynn,” he says, his voice a whisper again. I pull my head back slightly to look at him, waiting for his response. But instead of saying anything, Sebastian seizes the opportunity to crash his lips onto mine.

Jerking my head away with a gasp, I stare at him wide eyed. “What are you doing?” I say, glancing around at the few heads that have turned towards us. “It’s fine,” Sebastian says, “I don’t care if they see us.” As he moves his head closer again, I force myself to break away from his embrace.

“I care!” I all but yelled. “I don’t want people to see, I don’t want to do that!”

The last statement almost seems to slap him across the face, but I don’t care. I stand there, a good foot or two in between us, and glare at him. I turn my head to where Ominis had been sitting, but find him gone. Looking around, I don’t see him anywhere.

Turning my attention back to the boy in front of me, I give him one final look of anger before leaving him during the middle of the song. Picking up my skirts, I stomp out of the room and into the hallway. I head towards the one place I think that Ominis could be, the one place we got to for solitude and relaxation.

The door to the Undercroft opens with a creak, potentially alerting anyone inside that someone is there. I step into the room, and sure enough he is there waiting to be found.

Ominous is seated at the piano, no noise coming out of it. He doesn’t turn his head or even lift it when I walk in, despite the sound of my heeled shoes giving me away. I stand, watching him stay still, and open my mouth to speak.

But he beats me to it. “You need not check up on me. It’s not fair to Sebastian that you left him to see me.”

“I do not want to be with Sebastian right now,” I say, the words feeling truthful and coming out confidently. At this statement, Ominous lifts his head and angles it towards me. “He is your date tonight, is he not?”

There is this feeling inside me, drawn out by the question he asks me, and things seem to build up inside and erupt like a dam in my mind. “You should have asked me,” I all but blurted out.

Now his head is facing mine entirely, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. “We were not speaking until a few weeks ago, and he had asked you by…”

“Last year, then. You should have asked me last year. Why didn’t you?” I press into him, all but demanding he answer my question. Ominis sighed, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “He was going to.”

“But he didn’t.”

I watch as Ominis opens his mouth, and then shuts it again. He can’t seem to come up with a suitable response for a moment. “I know that you two are in love, and that is why I have distanced myself.”

It takes everything in my power not to laugh at his statement. “In love?” I scoff. “I am not in love with Sebastian, I can assure you.”

Ominis’ eyebrows knit themselves in confusion. “I don’t… he- he wrote to me, and…” The words seem to stumble out, not making any real sense to me. “I don’t even know what to believe anymore, from either of you.”

“If Sebastian has told you otherwise, it’s a lie.” The words sounded harsh coming out of my mouth, but they needed to be said. “I am not in love with him.”

“I- I have put my feelings aside for a long time, Aislynn. You need not spare them now,” he says, choking out the words. He almost seems like he is trying to convince himself that what I say is false, that I am the one who is lying to him. “Sebastian loves you.”

“What do I care about that if I don’t love him?” I scoff, my words cold. I watch as Ominis tries to compose himself, his mind clearly racing from the conversation. He is running a hand through his hair, making it lose its normally perfect shape.

“But he loves you… don’t you get it?” he finally breathes out, expression crazed as he pants. I shake my head, picking my skirt up. His denial, his belief that he must sacrifice for Sebastian, it’s too much for me.

“Believe what you want. But I am down here with you right now, and he is alone upstairs,” I say, my voice low and calculated. I don’t give him a chance to respond as I hoist my skirt up and march out of the room, not allowing myself a moment of regret until I am halfway down the hallway on my way back to my dorm.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis x mc #slytherin #dramione #eventual smut #harry potter #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #friends to enemies #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis

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vaguely-humanoid-form · 8 days

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hiiii 4 lords headcanon beam teehee

ya I'm. sort of getting back into resident evil . lol

#ripley doesn't say stuff #resident evil 8 #the four lords #alcina dimitrescu #salvatore moreau #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg #listen karl heisenberg is both a WWI and WWII vet to me.#well only kinda WWII #like bro got there did some war shit and then immediately got kidnapped by Miranda #so yeah hes traumatized!#anyways #i also think its really funny that alcina calls him a child #bc technically he is younger than her in terms of birth year and cadou implantation year #but hes physically older than her #i just think its a little bit silly #yeah #can you tell im normal

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feline-evil · 2 days

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Dick or no dick confirmation Pickles was always going to be trans to me anyways; if he's swingin' somethin that's phallo babes, if he's not then his t-dick fat. What's not to get.

#metalocalypse #jay talkin #I'm sorry they wrote that awful gross little man far too likeable and relatable to on a trans level #for me not to hoot and holler and cheer for the trans pickles agenda #changes nothing about his character arc or any of the show anyone is capable of being the kind of person he is #don't make the mistake of thinking thats exclusive to cis men #his transness wouldnt change that #only adds on an extra layer to him that i think works fantastically.#Listen that dude was rejected by his family driven to drink and drugs young to escape that ran away to be in a band #is called fucking Pickles of all things and refuses to tell anyone his real last name;#over the span of four seasons and two movies he slowly starts to learn to be for others what he never had #he becomes more caring more supportive #it's not a stretch to say he undoes some of the toxic masculinity he's been keeping himself shielded behind #and learns how to be a kinder man.#all of which have no contradictions with him being trans!#In fact it doesn't take much extra thought to find ways a lot of this can line up with some trans masculine experiences #i mean. Did no one else have a younger phase where they swung as far as they could into crass rude and uncaring ways #to try and assert their masculinity only to grow and realise that you can be a man and be more caring.#Did no one else have father issues. 1 800 come on now i know those are both shared experiences a lot of us have had LOL.#at the end of the day this show aired nearly 20 years ago and is finished. we're not getting more of it #so nothing is altered nor changed if pickles is canonically trans or not ok. its fine #i mean hell i dont even need canon confirmation hes trans to me and thats all i care abt #but i think if yr getting suuuuuper weird abt needing him not to be canonically trans you have some issues #and bio essentialist ideals of gender if you think only a cis man can act like he does #again. anyone can be like that. its not exclusive. him being trans would not change him in any way shape or form lol #AND ALSO GODDDUUUGH for once i love getting to see a guy pushing 50 whos depicted as trans #do you have any idea how dire and barren it is out here. we never get to see a trans guy older than 30 and whos not a pristine model #I WANT MORE OLD SHLUBBY SHITHEAD TRANS GUYS IN MEDIA

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designernishiki · 10 months

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sometimes it hits me that like. there is a pretty valid reason calling kiryu a granddad despite that being literally true feels Weird to me. and that’s the fact that. oh yeah. haruka has a baby at fuckin 19-20 years old. meaning kiryu is a granddad before he’s even 50.

#like that’s. pretty fucking young #she’s basically barely an adult so like no fucking wonder it feels like shit accelerated REAL fast when it comes to her growing up #like shit bro she’s only four years older than ME. and at this point she’d have a 7(?) year old???? holy shit #don’t get me wrong I know it’s not impossible or anything it’s just. yeah no fucking wonder people always refer to him like he’s way older #than he really is. he’s only 48 in y6.#maybe im a little biased cause my parents had me at 33 but. I mean stats don’t lie I’m pretty sure the average age of motherhood in japan is #like between 29-31 #hoo boy…#rambling #y6

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vulpinesaint · 10 months

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absolutely unreasonable over this coworker that i rlly like rn. thank god i don't like men or i would have fucking Lost it by now! as it is i don't even know what has me so dkfjghsdf about him i'm just sitting there with my head in my hands going "he's so normal about trans people..."

#he's a like. fr nerd guy which i don't know if i have a value judgment for but! it gets me points cause i can pull out nerd shit too #thought he was Significantly older than me but he is only four years older than me and not the estimated six. so it's not that bad #once i'm twenty in like three months it really will not be that weird for me to be friends with people in their twenties.#YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS. HE'S NOT NERDY HE'S GEEKY. DIFFERENT VIBE BUT DEFINITELY MORE LIKE ME #like. ordered a working spiderman mask online but also likes my alt radio station. y'know #and he wants to be my friend too!!! we talk nd have similar senses of humor #and he says hi + bye to me every time he sees me AND says my name every time which i think is a like. positive sign #when people take the time to say 'hi [name]!' i think that's a like. 'i'm invested in being friendly with you' thing #AND AGAIN!!! HEAD IN MY HANDS!!!! HE'S SO NORMAL ABOUT TRANS PEOPLE!!!!!!#went 'wow. it's the ignorance' when one of the kids asked about my dead name (kid obviously did not know what being trans entailed)#and when i went 'i mean adults ask me that too' he went 'what??? fr??? people are so uneducated :/' like a little disgusted ab it #which. dude. what a fucking world. so normal about trans people that like. not being normal about trans people is a foreign concept #not EVEN transphobia just not being educated on what's decent to ask a trans person!!! NOBODY knows that stuff!!!!#except for skye my best friend skye apparently. this dude is so fucking normal about trans people #laughs at my jokes about being trans!!! consistently!!!!! is rlly cool about it!!!!!!!#made a joke about using my dual citizenship to go check on the girls who were taking a really long time in the bathroom #and he found it as funny as i did and like. that's a kind of joke u'd usually have to share with other trans/queer people... idk...#would also make that joke with my coworker who is gay. but he's also really chill about me being trans haha #anywayyyyyy i don't know if he's queer or anything (strikes me as straight) but it's. god. world-changing #AND HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND. WHO HE TALKS ABOUT A NORMAL AMOUNT. VERY POSITIVE THING #so i don't have to worry about things being weird at all :D #and he knows for sure i'm 19 and is chill about it. which. i was the only one making that a big deal but it's a relief all the same haha #asked how old i was (talking about graduating from college in a year nd a half) and gave me a FIST BUMP when i told him.#A FIST BUMP. WHO DOES THAT.#straight people. that's who. guys who are just guys.#guys who make me go 'oh so i DO want guy friends who are my friends in a 'we're both guys' way. those other guys just suck'#which i don't really want but ALSO. he's normal about trans people! so he recognizes me as a guy no matter what i look/sound like!!#my like. supervisor's supervisor made a joke about him being childish and like. girl.#idc frankly that's skye my best friend skye you can't tell me shit about him we listened to the radio while driving the kids to the beach #valentine notes

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angelcasendgame · 1 year

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As a parentified younger sibling in a pretty fucked up household to an extremely abusive older sister, I have a lot of feelings about salmon dean's relationship

#she's also four years older than me but i was responsible for her #anyways #lots of emotions not enough words #and just so there's no confusion on my stance: dean is not abusive and sam only got a chance to rebel the way he did bc dean protected him #renu rambles

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sing-me-under · 3 months

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I hc a very specific set of ages for the Batfamily, and every time I see any comics that deviate from those ages, I scream.

I just. Tim being like 2-3 years older than Damian makes me feel all sorts of wrong. Tim’s been like 16 for the past twenty fucking years. PLEASE. Let him age! Let him be an adult! They’re speeding through Damian’s childhood! At this rate, Damian’s going to be an adult before Tim! And that’s what they did to Jon???? At least Connor can get away with the age fuckery but Tim is just a guy!

But sometimes I read fics and stuff and it’s like: the logic is not logicking! Do you know how many years things take place in? Tim’s year as Red Robin then the One Year Later and like??? Are you trying to imply that Tim was gallivanting around the world and lost his spleen at 14? That motherfucker is not 14. This is all ignoring everything that happens after too! Batman Inc. City of Bane. We Are Robin. In no particular order.

Also, why is Jason recently portrayed closer in age to Dick than to Tim?? Even if you prefer Dick being older and Bruce younger when they meet (7 year age gap my beloved lol), he still spent his entire teenage hood having Bruce to himself before Jason showed up, and Jason is Firmly 12-15 when he’s Robin; that’s nonnegotiable. If you’re making Jason like an adult adult when he returns as Red Hood, Dick is already going to be in his late 20s, and why is Tim like 12 in Titans Tower attack fanfics?? Do you know how much fucking happens BEFORE Red Hood even appears???? War Games happened! No Man’s Land happens! Hush and Contagion and Knightfall! These all happen before Red Hood! How the fuck is Tim supposed to be younger than 16 ??????? You can’t reference events in your story and have Tim have a wider age gap to Jason than Jason has with Dick.

The only times I can accept the age fuckery is when it’s explicitly referencing the time line fuckery caused by the reboots and stuff. I read this one fic (TimBern-centric, need to find it later) where the general population retains bits and memories of past timelines even if those experiences never actually occurred in the current timeline. Get your cake and eat it too.

#FINE! FINE!#You can compress Bruce Dick and Jason’s ages #but all the batkids younger than Jason (and Cass who could also be older)#They need to have some semblance of age differences!#it’s not reasonable for all these teenagers #to be hyper competent and only be born in like the same four year time span #and also have wildly different experience levels #personal #dc #this is me ranting over the age ranges in DC #I fucking don’t understand what the fuck is going on #I can’t even cross reference with the other heroes’ comics #but I’m just SAYING #I’m like vaguely aware that some versions have Dick also be 12-15 in his time with Bruce #then he runs off to the Teen Titans and Jason shows up #I think it’s funny when Bruce’s kids show up at 12 leave at 15 and he just gets another 12 year old #the concept is hilarious but not if you’re trying to jam all dc events into your fic

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novococain · 9 months

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👀

#ALSO many thoughts about my post-dance au where for ✨reasons✨ (the same reason every targ ever has done anything)#aegon iii actually like. puts his king pants on a little (granted like 21 years into his reign but we'll fucking take it)#and is like actually i am not afraid of fighting with my brother-bf (a lie)#and actually gets shit done. betrothals! demands! holds court! has more kids!#finds someone to marry gay ass daeron i bcs wdym you married your first daughter to your second son instead of your damned HEIR #bitch reigned for four years without a PEEP about marriage #meanwhile they were about to have jaehaerys walking down the isle before he was even considered old enough to rule ☠#i have so much work for this au it's STUPID.#really it's just me going [points at aegon iii] he's so traumatized fr. im gonna make it worse.#i also did it with my working show timeline which took me SO LONG PLEASE SOMEONE NEEDS TO SEE IT #anyway.#it's also really just me going wowwww rhaena truly was the only dragonrider left. she married a hightower. she felt rejected by her brother.#let's unpack that #rhaena and aegon iii post-dance have a “older sister who got away/younger sister who didn't” relationship in my head #except the dance is the abusive household. meanwhile baela understands how aegon iii feels deeply but will always choose rhaena.#and viserys ii doesn't get it as much as rhaena because he too was a lot more sheltered as to the direct horrors of the dance #though less than rhaena #but he will always choose aegon iii.#surviving actually sucks!! who'd have thought!!

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coconutdays · 6 months

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love line

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

“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.”

#toji x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jjk x you #toji zenin x reader #jjk x reader #toji zenin x you #toji fushigro x reader

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