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#but these three are literally who I think of when I write for her
Nash Hawthorne & Libby Grambs Headcannons:
(bc my babies are far too underrated and they need some love)
tag list: @bewitchingkisses @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket
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- they decorate cowboy hats for all occasions and match
- it’s actually one of their favourite things to do on a date
- sometimes they do things like swap every ten minutes/try and design the perfect hat for the other/ choose a theme and design off of that
- nash 100% writes songs about libby and plays them too her on his guitar as well as singing
- nash has such a good singing voice and libby finds it really soothing
- sometimes libby will ask nash to give her two random flavours that she has to somehow incorporate into a cupcake
- nash learns how to dye libby’s hair when she wants to change it so he can do it for her
- similarly he also gets libby to teach him how to do different hairstyles (like braiding etc)
- he’s awful at it but libby thinks it’s so cute
- they are defos the biggest animal lovers, so they’d have a cat and a dog bc they couldn’t decide between the two
- I really feel like they’d have a horse as well (or maybe a few horses?? who knows??)
- and tell me they wouldn’t go horse riding into the sunset together wearing their matching cowboy hats
- they’d go in late night drives and blast Taylor Swift in the car
- libby is a passenger princess but nash loves that
- when Taylor released new albums they’d literally be the first in the store to buy it and then know all of the songs by the next day
- libby is a sucker for romance movies and always begs nash to watch them with her, he always complains but secretly he loves them too
- nash ALWAYS cries at the end of notebook and titanic
- libby finds this absolutely adorable
- nan loves libby and constantly tells her that she’s too good for nash
- once libby suggested they play strip bowling and nash literally blushed so hard
- nash tells libby so many crazy stories about him and his brothers and now she has so much to blackmail them all with (but she never will because she’s a literal ray of sunshine)
- libby has this notebook and when nash really likes a cupcake flavour she’ll secretly write it down so she can remember what he really loves and then surprises him with it a few weeks later
- every month the two of them aim to read a book together to talk about it
- nash sometimes uses cake-inspired nicknames when talking to libby, for example ‘sprinkle’, ‘cupcake’ and ‘jellybean’
- his brothers mock him for it but they shut up when nash glares at them
- nash is petrified of spiders but libby refuses to let them be killed, so whenever there’s one in the house libby has to pick it up and take it outside, whilst nash hides in a corner
- libby is the deepest sleeper. EVER. like this girl could sleep through three earthquakes whereas nash is a really light sleeper
- libby snores and nash thinks it’s really cute but he will never tell her
- nash loves painting her nails
- they rant about what they’re passionate about to the other and the other will literally just stare at them lovingly for however long
- they rarely ever fight and when they do they both absolutely hate it and end up just apologising and cuddling
- nash would literally do ANYTHING for this woman… like she wants random sour gummies at 3am? he is out the door. she needs an extra bag of flour mid cake-off? he’s the man on the job. she doesn’t want to go out? he already has a list of excuses and a second list of things they can do instead of going out…
- nash absolutely loves to have libby in his arms
- though she never really admits it, when libby sees nash take his helmet off after a motorbike ride she blushes so freaking hard
- she turns into an adorable little tomato
- libby hates being in any sort of limelight, interviews and paparazzi make her really uncomfortable so nash makes sure she doesn’t have to deal with it
- she never does any interviews and he’s very protective of her when approached by paparazzi, putting an arm around her and shielding her face in his chest, walking away quickly as he requests the paparazzi to stop
- it is also important to both libby and nash that when they have kids they don’t grow up with all the pressure of the media. they don’t show their kids faces or reveal that much about them, until they’re old enough to do it for themselves and consent
- nash is actually a really good cook but a horrible baker
- libby tried to teach him how to make a cupcake once and he managed to mess it up
- and don’t even get me started on when he tried to ice a cupcake… that was an abomination
- but they often plan nights where nash cooks the meal and libby bakes desert and the two of them enjoy it together
- nash really cares deeply that libby always feels safe and happy and loved in the relationship because of her last relationship
- he checks with her every once in a while
- libby finds this so sweet and is so touched that someone cares this much about her
- they’re not massive on PDA, nash likes to have his arm around her usually
- that said, they’re not afraid to kiss or show affection if people are around, they just tend not to
- nash gives the BEST massages, they’re to die for and libby adores them
- no one makes libby laugh harder than nash does
- and he loves the sound of her laugh
- like grayson, libby is also REALLY ticklish so nash often starts tickle wars with her
- one of their daughter’s first words is ‘yee-haw’ (CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE!!!)
- nash is such a natural dad because he had so much experience literally raising his brothers
- when libby sees this it makes her really emotional and she thinks she’s a bad mom
- but nash reassures her that she is literally the best mom in the world and that their twins are so lucky to have her
a/n: I just found these headcannons at the bottom of my drafts so I’m posting them?! I don’t even know how long ago they were written but I hope you enjoy anyways. I’ve decided they’re in honour of the libby and nash cards coming out (omg I’m obsessed)
also let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in headcannons in the future, I just tagged everyone I normally would but if you don’t want to don’t be shy to let me know <333
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twinsarekeepers · 2 days
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I’m curious as to your honest thoughts on the show? Like I love pjo and all but the show was a bit of a let down writing wise. There’s always the point of “it’s an adaptation, not a carbon copy” like yes but this new writing isn’t exemplary better than the book just because it’s rewritten by the author himself
I think the show is well-written not because Rick is attached to it, but because I actually like the way the writers are approaching adapting the source material. I have a lot of issues with the original books in terms of writing quality because frankly speaking, I don’t think Rick is a very good writer. He has a lot of interesting things in those books that he never explores or drops within the first two and this fandom gives him and the books too much credit imo.
This is why I’m not very moved when people try to ascribe meaning to a certain scene or choice he made in the books to get mad at the show for changing. As an example, one of the main things people were upset about was the kids “knowing everything” in the show when they were getting tricked left and right in the book. Many posts were dedicated to how the book version is superior because it illustrates how they’re just twelve years old kids so of course they’ll make mistakes and get tricked by monsters.
That’s a perfectly fine interpretation but I was twelve years old when I first read tlt and I was able to anticipate almost every single trap, despite being pretty gullible and naive at that age. My knowledge of Greek mythology consisted of Disney’s Hercules, maybe two Google searches, and my second grade teacher’s reading of the kid friendly version of the Odyssey. No where near the level of Percy who’d been learning for a whole year in an established class on the topic with Chiron or Grover who was literally a satry born into the world or Annabeth, who spent the majority of her life dedicated to studying specifically quests and Greek mythology and was also on the run fighting monsters for a good portion of her childhood. Like twelve year olds can be dumb but those three stumbling into every trap was asking me to suspend my disbelief too far. I remember being upset that they weren’t able to figure it out because it was obvious that Rick wasn’t making that choice to show any personality flaws or character dynamics (because he would’ve had them learn and grow but they never did they just kept being not smart), he just wasn’t able to figure out a way for them to fall into those traps organically so he had to dumb them down.
I think the show was able to get across the characters’ childishness without compromising their established backstories. Yes, Annabeth knew it was Medusa right away because that makes sense for a kid who has experience with running into monsters. But, she still acted very much like a child in her interactions with her (and throughout the episode and season). She lashed out and called her a liar and wouldn’t listen to her side of the story because it painted her mother in a bad light. That’s peak twelve year old behavior.
Yes, Percy figured out Kronos was behind everything, but it makes sense because Percy knows Greek mythology and where Kronos resides. He still very much acts like a child when he asks Hades to give him back his mom in exchange for nothing because it’s the right thing to do.
There are dozens of examples like this for a lot of complaints of the show. And this is not me saying that the show is perfect: every single show has flaws. For me, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the dialogue or the exposition dumping. It didn’t hinder my enjoyment though because I don’t think it was egregious (and wrt the exposition dumping, I expected it because the book did it and there’s really no way to “show not tell” Greek myths). I also didn’t like that we didn’t get to really see the huge clashes between Zeus and Poseidon in the weather (we got references to it through news reports but I would’ve liked something more). I was able to look past it because I really liked the storytelling and the themes the show was pulling out of the original source material.
I loved Medusa-Sally parallels and Medusa-Annabeth parallels. I loved the juxtaposition of Pan’s quest to manifest density. I loved Percy and Annabeth’s opposite trajectory in respect to their relationships with their godly parents. I loved exploring Sally’s choice to send Percy to school instead of camp. I loved explicitly coding Annabeth as autistic. I loved Luke’s backstory being brought earlier into the story. I loved the deadline passing and Poseidon surrendering to save Percy. I loved Persues-Andromeda and percabeth parallels. I loved fleshing Grover out. I loved glory vs home seeking being the central theme of the show.
And lastly, I was able to understand that with a limited number of episodes and run time (due to the nature of child labor laws!), they did the best they could and I feel like they did a pretty good job for a first season.
These are not ALL of my thoughts on the show because that would be a very long post. I gave one detailed example of why I think the show succeeded in something the fandom tries to ascribe the books and it was like three paragraphs lol. Anyway this is not the post to try and convince me that the show is bad for whatever reason you have cooked up. I’m not going to change my mind and I doubt I’ll change yours. Here’s to a season 2 that builds on a solid season 1!
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eureka-its-zico · 10 months
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heyeeeey
It's almost 3am in Brazil and I just woke up from a dream
The images are still a little blurry, but I reread chapter eight and I think I dreamed about it... but as if it were in the TV show
It wasn't Zoro, you know? It was Mackenyu and I kept thinking "my god how he and the doc actress have immense chemistry!" like I could FEEL the sexual tension, it was crazy
anyway, that's it
ohoooooh question: who would be the actress who most resembles the doc? It doesn't have to be about looks, but who would have the same vibe?
OK... I'll try to go back to sleep now
Boa noite!!!!!! 💙💙💙💙💙
Goooood morning/afternoon to you, Nonnie (whatever time this reply finds you 🥰)!! Funny I am replying to you at 3 a.m. my time lol.
You gave me a lot of emotions because I was like…damn, I would love to write both scripts for shows and write/publish a novel that people loved so much they turned it into…idk…something. Anything, really. 🤷🏽‍♀️ Then I thought, daaaaamn I’ve had two people tell me now they dreamed about Doc and Zoro, but in different contexts. At least I know I’m not the only one plagued by these two in waking and sleeping hours 🤣
As for your question: I Do have like a mixture of characters and their attributes I use for Doc.
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It’s literally a mixture of these three.
1. Yennefer of Vengerberg
Yenn is such a complex character. We know she’s been through a lot of cruelty and pain, which has caused her to be cautious and untrusting to most. She also holds onto, what I feel, is a resentment towards herself for giving up the part of her that wants to be a mother for power. She treated the need for power like this replacement child, and was willing to die to get the chance to be one back. When she met Geralt, they are both suspicious of their feelings towards one another and equally run from them. When I see her, dealing with her emotions and her darkness, it’s kind of how I imagine Doc in the last couple of chapters and the coming chapters.
2. Elizabeth Bennett (Keira Knightley)
You guys don’t understand. Pride & Prejudice is an addiction for me. When I watched this again recently, I couldn’t help but notice how Zoro is literally introverted and socially awkward Mr. Darcy, and how Doc is in some way, Lizzie. It’s where a lot of their banter comes from and their own prideful way of seeing the other before they actually spend more time together. I am like, hell bent on writing my own version of Mr. Darcy crossing the moor at early dawn to Lizzie, but in my own fucked up way for Zoro and Doc because I am a masochist.
3. Evelyn (Evie) O’Connell (Rachel Weisz)
“Look, I... I may not be an explorer or an adventurer, or a treasure-seeker or a gunfighter, Mr. O'Connell, but I am proud of what I am. I am a librarian.”
^^^^^* this one line should tell you exactly where Doc’s personality came from 🤣🤣 also, these two are the original Sunshine and Sunshine protector and no one can tell me different.
Good night my dear and pleasant dreams 🖤
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gen-is-gone · 2 months
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hrgh every time I think I've come close to forgiving lance fucking parkin I skim the gallifrey chronicles. and then I remember the Horrors.
#listen bc when I read through and play around with AHistory I'm inclined to enjoy and respect his work as a curatative fan historian#but his actual prose writing#it. it beggars belief it truly does it's just atrocious#megan whines into the empty abyss of cyberspace#everyone in the EDA discord who thinks father time is the worst of it oh boy babes the worst is absolutely yet to come#like I get *why* they gave him the last book of the line because he does (mostly) know his lore extremely well#so it kind of makes sense that he'd be picked to wrap up all the myriad loose ends#and also he's well liked and afaik pretty personable unlike some fuckers I could name and didn't spend years burning bridges#but oh my god oh my god literally everything to do with Fitz and Trix is just. awful. terrible.#guy who absolutely does not understand or respect any of the three of that team TARDIS but especially Fitz#also The Thing With Sam#never happened fuck you lance#also given just how many asspats he gives himself over his command of the lore he fucking got Sam's middle name wrong?!#also it's soooo obvious how much he loves Anji because she's a Capitalist GirlbossTM#he really does not grasp her character development or personal arcs but he thinks he's killing it#like she *is* a Capitalist GirlbossTM but that's not all she is but he's not actually interested in her interiority at all#he just enjoys that she's a fiscal conservative#god the fact that trading futures is the literal very next book after Anachrophobia#one of the best books in the series that explicitly calls out Anji's pro-capitalism stance using time-war-for-profit played for utter horro#immediately followed by...almost the exact same premise but Zany RompTM#it's not that capitalists misusing time travel for profit is inherently bad it's just *these guys* who suck#no lesson is learned! then you fucking get to the fucking gallifrey chronicles and Fitz actually deciding that this very same scheme#'wasn't perhaps unethical' just because it's Trix and Anji doing it#like yeah sure Anji and Trix can have a little insider trading. as a treat. but that is literally the definition of unethical lol#the only reason time traveling to acquire stock tips isn't massively illegal is because it's not fucking real like??#of-fucking-course it's unethical you walnut#parkin you smug annoying self-obsessed lore-obsessed pregnancy-obsessed just barely-plausibly deniably not homophobic asshole#I'm avoiding even bringing up the actual beef with TGC because first of all everyone fucking knows but also it's just.#it's such a goddamn shit awful trainwreck#if parkin wasn't a Fitz-hating homophobic coward he would've ended the gallifrey chronicles the same way he ended the dying days. wink.
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tbcanary · 9 months
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like when i say dixon did bop better i’m literally not joking. sorry to say his portion was actually the good part.
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capricornsicle · 2 years
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"I'm going to tell you a story. Maybe it will sound familiar." Visionary x Insatiable x Status Asthmaticus x The Wolves of War
#this is really a show about coming of age in a vicious and unfamiliar world more than a show about werewolves#think about it. scott is sixteen and to him losing his first love is as incomprehensible and unfathomable as the supernatural.#and we're constantly reminded of how being sixteen and in love goes -- 'you're not in love you're sixteen and a child' etc.#these three characters make for such a good parallel to one another in how they werewolf + seeking guidance#especially + sudden change of worldview/stakes when confronted with sudden and unexpected loss and grieving#of course derek loses paige and becomes cold and jaded (see: literally becomes cold w/ blue eyes)#scott loses allison and commits harder to saving all of his friends even though one of them (or someone possessing him) killed her#liam is stopped from killing because of hayden's death#here are three werewolves who were sixteen and held their first love's dead body in their arms#and each of them took a different path. do you close yourself off? refuse to? do you change completely because of it?#and ofc it's teen wolf so everything always comes in threes#I have a lot of issues with the writing but the use of death (barring 6b) is not one of them. they really went hard on meaningful death.#also consider: lori holding brett's hand so he doesn't die alone and theo responding to tracy kissing him by killing her as she does#teen wolf writers went is anyone going to bastardize the original narrative to ponder new ideas about it and didn't wait for an answer#also women's deaths are always about love/for a man (thanks hollywood) but goddamn if they don't kill their women wisely#and the thing is they are all running. they're running from death and what does it get them? it gets them here.#derek wants to turn paige so she'll live forever. scott wants allison to live happily even with someone else. liam wants to save hayden.#none of them consider that cheating death will catch up to them until they run right into its arms#and all three die because of getting involved with the supernatural. all of them would presumably not have died otherwise.#coming of age into a world that takes and hurts and destroys and where you are now old enough for people around you to die.#this is not a show about werewolves.#teen wolf#twedit#teenwolfedit#my edit#derek hale#paige krasikeva#scott mccall#allison argent#liam dunbar
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fallowfield · 1 year
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Mama was ALWAYS about being trans bitch!!! lets get you some fruit.
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wonryllis · 7 months
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watermelon sugar (m) | sim jaeyun.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁?
preview. he’s the sweetest to you, one might confuse him for your boyfriend, but he’s not, he just your fuckboy of a roommate who treats you like a delicate candy, always looking out for you and never at you; or so you think.
or where, jake can't seem to get you off his mind no matter how hard he tries.
meet the cast. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader
genre. and they were roommates trope, fuckboy soft for his girl trope, SMUT MDNI!!!, lots of toothrooting fluff, tiny speck of angst but not proper angst, drunk confessions?, only one who can control him/her trope, happy happy ending, crack/humor, domestic scenes(newly added) college fuckboy athelete roommate!jake with his candy!roommate girl. computer science & programming major!reader, exercise physiology major!jake, nonidol!au, soccer player!jake.
word count. 13,488 unedited! it's word vomit.
warnings. fingering, dry humping, dirty talkkk lots and lots of it, nasty freak jake with innocent(seems to be) girlie, experienced x inexperienced(virgin but has idea), pussy slapping, somewhat drunk sex but there's consent consent, oral (m rec.) different scenes, p in v (unprotected! but pls pls pls do not do this ever use protection!!!!!) multiple orgasms (f.rec), overstimuation(f.rec) and somewhat (m.rec), spitting? slight nipple play, jake is rough and filthy, with heavyyyyy corruption kink it's all throughout the story, strength kink, size difference “i worship the ground you walk on” energy but still dominant jake, jake has soooo many dirty inner thoughts about you it's innumerable. he's a simp for you so you're a slut for him— i guess that's them?
theme song. animals by maroon 5 (jake pov), into you by ariana grande (yn pov)
﹙★﹚ ࣪DRABBLES (find them here)
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` author notes. im sorry for making you guys wait three extra weeks I hope y'all still want to read this,, what do i say it was so horrible before the revamp, thankfully it's so much better now and the smut god, it was so hard to write it i hope it's good enough. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!!
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“i don’t mind this feeling.”
YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT, WHATEVER IS HAPPENING BETWEEN YOU BOTH, BUT YOU LIKE IT. IT FEELS SILLY AND FRAGILE AND GOOD. perhaps a little too good.
god forbid what you had done in your past life to get a roommate like jake, a complete package; a concoction of all classic kinds of roommate one could possibly expect. you aren’t complaining though he takes care of you in every way he possibly could. making you feel like his entire world revolves around you, from his time home to the hours he spends on the field. one would ask anything of him and his answer would surely include you in one way or another, everyone knew it, everyone could see it, the way he feels.
he makes you breakfast, he helps with the cleaning- you both actually have it planned to have a cleaning day every week to polish the apartment. he cooks for you and he does the dishes more often than not, the only exception being the time when you insist deathly on doing it yourself because come on you gotta do at least some thing around the house.
to add to the perfect mixture of god gifted man, he video games in his room with the door shut so that the sound of him shouting at the screen doesn’t disturb you. does the laundry- even your bras and underwear, he’s just too used to those clothings to give a care to get embarrassed (outwardly). he would never admit the way they get him all hot and bothered when he thinks of all the places those fabrics have touched. how wild his imagination runs and all the things he wishes he could do to you. all the sounds he could get, out of you and all the things you'd taste of.
you are his candy (well not exactly ‘his’ but according to him this nickname of yours is only and I repeat only reserved for him) literally because you are all over sweets all the damn time and figureratively because he’d die to have a taste of you; the forbidden fruit of his life, too innocent for a person like him to ruin. but lord would he give up everything to land a chance to lay his hands on you not so innocently.
this man does not give a fuck about who is not you, and maybe occasionally spare a care for his two best friends who so far have only been blessed enough to know your name because jake has made it clear that you're off-limits and if they ever dare to do anything given the opportunity he'd rip off their balls and feed it to ducks (he's serious he swears)
getting to the real point of your dynamic: the only drawback— jake sim is a renowned fuckboy on campus, the heartbreak prince and you, his miss americana as they all like to call it. it is a daily routine, having to find a new girl in the house and ofttimes hearing them even with your door closed and your hands pressed on your ears. at first it felt disgusting, then you got used to it, and now very recently you’ve been feeling weirdly dejected. a certain kind of hatred towards the girls, something you can’t pin point exactly to why and what it is.
“candy, my laptop broke down again!” jake's raspy voice dances through the little cracks of the bathroom door as you prepare for a quick shower. you sigh, tightening the towel wrapped around you before stepping out. a short knock at his batman poster door left ajar, and he's whipping his head to have a look at you as if he knew you'd be in the middle of washing up. a little secret, yes he knew because everytime ahead of bathtime you make sure to have a sip of your watermelon slush stack from the fridge and the sound of it's door reaches his room just right to let him know.
he remains seated on his bed, a sheepish smile on his face. your eyes fall at his desk to see his laptop closed, he tricked you, and like always you fell for it,“maybe if you used your school laptop to study instead of playing games on it, this wouldn't happen all the time. but i assume you probably did it to get me here, it’s not gonna work everytime yun,” you click your tongue in feigned annoyance making him grin wider,“well it does work everytime though,” he knows how to have you on his tail just like you know how to have him wrapped around your finger. it only seems fair, you both know what gets the other going and you use it to your advantage.
“what is it?” asking in a sing song tone, you plop down on his desk chair. spinning in rounds with your legs out swinging, hands gripping onto the arms of the chair while looking up at the phosphorescent glow-in-the-dark stickers you had forcefully put up on the ceiling of his room. a funny memory of jake trying to stop you because it would defeat the whole image of his room only to fold when you gave him the puppy doe eyes, baby talking that you really wanted to do it. it doesn't take much to have jake cave in, just one look from you and the boy is a flatline. fuckboy? he is that to everyone but to you he's practically whatever you want him to be, though you have never really had a talk about it.
“actually eunsang, she-” there is a hesitation is his tone you are well aware of, having almost a clear idea of what he's about to say,“i told- no warned you not to get involved with her for a second time, didn’t i?” you scold, feeling that little twinge of hurt knowing he probably will keep on being involved with girls like this no matter what you say. it's the one thing where you don't have him under your spell. or that's you think, i mean you you have no idea do you of how much he wants you. just like how you have no idea how much you want him.
“yes but it happened and now she’s after me all the time, she even showed up to my soccer practice yesterday! please just this one time, please help me get rid of her,” clamping together his hands in a plea, jake pouts as best as he can, giving you his puppy eyes. but when you don’t show a reaction of any sort he resorts to the next best guaranteed thing: bribery,“i’ll buy you tons of watermelon lollipops! from your favorite brand that too!” eyes sparkling with hope and expections of having you fall for it, like you do every single time, he waits. albeit patterns break, in everything and everyone.
“no, i’m on a diet. i gave up on sweets, what if i get diabetes? will you,” you point at him dramatically,“take responsibility?” to which his stance morphs into one of stunned. he would gladly take responsibility for you at any given chance, but it's one of more gravity and significance than diabetes. and he's sure he's not one you should be in care of as more than anything that you are right now. he's too corrupted and you are too naive.
“yes of course i’ll help you take your meds and-” he mumbles in a quick, hurried note aware that you’ll not let him answer if he’s not fast enough. you still beat him to it though, speaking loud over and above his voice, to drown out his words despite hearing them quite clearly,“will you? NO you will not! so let me just shower peacefully before i get the urge to lock you in the bathroom when you’re in there later,” with a silence after, one that has jake grinning again at your cuteness, you take it as a que to rush out swiftly. trying to make it to the bathroom before he decides to use his strength against you and hold you down wherever he wants. which though hasn't been often, has always left you breathless and flustered to a point you refuse to admit.
training to become an athlete, a buff center forward in comparison to you who barely puts effort into doing even a little bit of yoga once a month. it’s obvious he’ll have you give in if he wants but he’s too sweet to force you. and of course it's obvious, the tension of the strength kink that looms over in the room.
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it comes as a shock to you when the next day, the first thing you see waking up in the morning and walking into the living room: is eunsang standing by the kitchen counter. and important point: clad in one of jake’s dress shirts that you recognize from doing his laundry occasionally, pouring herself a glass of water. oh you had to see this coming, this is jake we're talking about will be really ever like ever not bring over girls? no matter if they're clingy or not. the answer is ambiguous and definitely not to your favor.
she’s shares a small smile upon noticing you, a friendly smile which you know is obviously fake. she’s doing it just to look good and polite in jake’s eyes. just to show that she's not bothered by you, because as said everyone knows if they don't like you then they automatically are on jake sim's blacklist. and being the star player of the team, his acquaintance is more or less influential to a large extent, so note to be taken be nice to candy to not be on the cross out list.
however as sad as it is to say it’s of no use. she’s not even there in his eyes to begin with. the moment the jake comes out of his room, his field of vision doesn’t include her. passing by her very visible figure like she’s a microscopic bug to ruffle your hair in a dotting manner, his morning voice coming out in an adoring essence,“good morning, candy,” he smiles and scrunches up his nose when he notices the baby cat you both adopted last month, curled up in the corner of the couch,“and mei,” he acknowledges your pet kitty but not the girl he brought home, that should speak volumes to you, jake thinks. treating you like candy of his world you are, shouldn't that be the ultimate giveaway of his feelings? like even his hookups can see how down bad he is for you why is it that you're the only one who can't? he wants you to know but at the same time he feels he's not right for you, a dilemma he handles by fucking up over and over again.
wishing him morning in response you give him a look which silently delivers your question of what is going on. you did hear them last night (more like her), but you didn’t know it was her her. you weren’t even expecting her to be the one. after the conversation with jake yesterday, she was the last person you would have ever assumed. he sends you a flying look that he’ll explain everything later, shushing you off before you speak out loud.
“yunie,” your ears perk up at her voice, eyes narrowing in a deadly stare at the nickname you exclusively call him with, leaving her crusty mouth. certainly, like jake you blossom a definite possession over names too. perhaps it's the effect of living with him 24/7 but you seem to have picked up a lot of his antics.
jake’s eyes shift to look at you for a moment and then he’s running a hand through his hair, dropping his sweet conduct to get back into his usual cold fuckboy self. he absolutely does not like the way your brows turn down and the pretty smile you were previously adorning for him falling off your pretty lips. he can tolerate anything but seeing you bothered in any way. “you’re still here? it's better if you leave soon, candy doesn’t like all this,” walking around her to the other side of the counter and into the kitchen to open the upper cabinets, jake ignores her like a plague as if he wasn't showing her heaven last night. but alas, nothing comes above you, she should have known that.
“what do you want for breakfast candy? should i make you some toast? or do you want your usual dose of sugar?” his palms rest on the granite countertop, leaning against it slightly while turning to fix his gaze on you. it makes eunsang rage with anger, throwing you a demeaning look before she disappears into jake's room.
the moment his bedroom door closes, you feel the unfamiliar weight on your shoulders relax a tad bit,“my watermelon slush please,” finding your cozy spot on the kitchen counter, you give him your most adorable pout feeling like you had to gain back his warmth after the hookup. your legs dangle over the height between, toes softly brushing against jake's calves every two seconds. watching him prepare your drink, you decide to voice out the thing that had been disturbing since the moment you walked out your room,”did you like make a friends with benefit kind of arrangement or something?” it comes out in a low whisper, afraid if you said it too loud it'd come true. the thought of it disturbs you for some reason, it’s not new for you to see random girls in your apartment; or to hear them while they’re at it. yet it still gives you a sort of uneasy feeling, something you do not like feeling.
“it was a last time kind of deal actually,” he stops briefly to give you a quilty smile. finishing your sweet slushy just as eunsang hastily steps out, wearing what you assume her clothes from the previous night. she slows down to observe as jake hands you the cup, repulsively watching you take a sip,“is it good?” hearing him speak in a tone way different than the one she’s acquainted with him using with her has stomp her way out in a grumpy fit.
looking up from the edge of your cup with hopes to give her a sly stare, your eyes follow her figure, flinching silently when she bangs the door close harshly,“bitch,” you comment, hooded orbs shifting back to jake who scowls in disapproval,”language candy,” he reminds, knowing very well it does nothing to stop you.
“sorry yunie but she's so agressive, and for what?” you whine.
“from what i’ve seen, you’re way more aggressive,” jake laughs softly, index finger coming to poke at your cheek tenderly.
with full cheeks, you grin like a cheshire cat and jake feels his heart rate speeding up, who gave you the permission to be the cutest person he's ever known? the urge to kiss you just keeps growing with each passing day and with with each little sneaky smile and doe eyes you give him.
“we need to get the groceries this week, i have after classes soccer practice for the next four days and we're not gonna last that long,” the thought of spending the next four evenings alone in the unit is gloomier than the half assed ham and cheese toast jake makes for himself. if only you said yes to some proper breakfast, his taste buds and stomach wouldn't be suffering so much.
you nod as if he has eyes on his back, knowing well he's gonna want you with him but not force you, if you'd say no. whatever you want, is whatever he does.
“‘m gonna go take a shower first then,” hopping down, you place your empty mug in the sink, and skip to your room to take your bath supplies.
“let’s shower together,” jake's friskiness thrives in the way he shouts with an undertone of mischief. watching you with a teasing gaze as you step out the threshold of your bedroom door. a tiny smirk spreading onto his lips when you scrunch your nose in a grimace. cute, he mouths thinking you wouldn't notice but god you do. he's clearly joking but you can’t help feeling flustered internally. keeping up with his flirty and touchy stunts and tricks should have made it easier for you by now, but over a year in and you're yet to find yourself getting used to it. he’s too attractive and hot to get used to; at least that’s what excuse your brain gives you, which honestly is true to some extent. his looks score a lot of points and you can't deny that.
“and if we get locked in there, who’s gonna get us out? you know the door lock has problems,” you complain in a soft groan which, in his eyes is more adorable with the little annoyance you show. if you think you could ever intimidate him, you probably will because he'll melt right away to even think of a counter back.
his stance straightens at that, a fleeting look of flabbergast clouding his face before he’s breaking out in a taunt of smile, eyes closing in on you in a brazen look,“so does that mean if the lock was fine you’d actually shower together with me,” he feels this triumph of emotions, a sudden rush of sugar at the realization that'd probably maybe perhaps someday let him get in the shower together with you. the sheer excitement he experiences through his veins is over the roof, just the possibility of something so intimate with you is a bite of golden spoon for him.
he purposely stops all he’s doing to stare at you, moving his eyebrows cheekily, trying to provoke you,“i never said that,” you stick your tongue out at him, closing the door in a soft slam and crying out a ‘you’re sick in the head!’
“only for you!” jake yells back, chuckling to himself as he leaves the room.
two hours later you’re both strolling through the isles of shelving, bright florescent lighting, end displays of popular products, sale signs, banners with store mottoes, isle signs with product locations, rows and rows of household products and everything you'd always spend lots of time looking through until jake has to drag you back home.
he pushes the cart while you look around for items to throw in and cross out one by one from your checklist. the way you both discuss and bicker over what to keep in the cart and what not to every two minutes will lead any sane person to conclude you as a couple. you both would also admit it feels as such. how he insists on taking what you like while you argue that you’re on a diet and need to cut down on the consumption and desires of your sweet tooth. it feels sweet, he feels sweet. and you make him want to coddle you so bad, like what do you mean you're on a diet? you're perfect already. too perfect for him.
“i’m taking the pop tarts!” you hear him shout from two or probably three Isles away while you look through some new make up launches,”…okay fine!” capturing the attention of an old couple who glance at your way and mutter something you don’t quite catch but you assume it’s probably about how annoying you both are, shouting at the mart.
“yunie look these are so pretty,” you point at the line of lipgloss as jake comes over with cart. he hums in agreement, watching you scan through the shades in an animated mood, mumbling over the names and speaking of how it'd look good for an everyday look or with summer dress you recently got. oh how smitten he feels, observing the way you seem so pumped up simply over gloss.
“there's no mirror— “
“try it on me,” oh he's bewitched under your spell.
jake stands still as you apply the mauve on him, staring at you through hooded eyes,”oh, this one’s really pretty on you!” you beam, looking up at him as if he could see it too.
“it'd look prettier on you,” he's hardly able to whisper out, gaze trained on the way you part your lips while you wipe it off his and apply another. if he didn't have a strong self control, by now he would have shoved his tongue down your throat in the dirtiest and messiest kiss you'd ever known. knocking your breath out, as well as his. he's already on the verge of losing it with every little touch you leave on his lips, wetting your own as a habit.
“which one should i take?” you ask something cutely, jake almost feels guilty for the thoughts swimming in his head.
“i’ll buy all of it for you, we can do something like a chapstick challenge you know. the one where you kiss and guess the flavor,” he teases loving the tiny exasperated glare you throw him. “yunn, be serious! which one?”
“these two?” he points to ones you commented were pretty feeling impatient at the conjured up image of you wearing the colors on with you tiny, sexy little sundresses you got hidden in your closet. please feel guilty man he thinks.
in the end jake (successfully) convinces you to continue your diet later over the summer break offering to help you with it. and grabs a bunch of packets of your favorite snacks, your favorite brand’s watermelon lollipops and not to forget the fruit itself. checking all out he insists on carrying everything himself, only handing you the little bag that held your lollies in case you'd want one on the way back.
the subway is more crowded than usual, scarcely any seat left. it takes you a whole minute to scan around for an empty one, immediately encouraging jake to take it. a silly game of rock paper scissors to decide who stands, insisting firmly that he sit when you end up winning. the grocery bags rest by his foot and you stand between his legs, holding onto the bar wobbling every now and then. it’s just one stop left when jake suddenly pulls you onto his lap, adjusting you comfortably on his thighs and placing his hands on your legs possessively. you turn to look at him, lashes brushing against his skin and lips parting in the slightest at the adrenaline you feel pumping into your fast beating heart. the muscles in his chest feel firm at the faint touch of your back against him, the thumping of his own heart similar to that of yours.
he leans closer to whisper in your ear,“that creep right there kept staring you up and down,” pointing with a discreet move of his eyes as he drills holes through his stern gaze fixed on the said guy. you on the other hand, grow hot with irritation, perhaps just as hot and bothered you are feeling jake pressed so close. an abrupt and sharp impulse of anger.
“i’ll show him the fuck he was staring at," you mutter out, teeth gritted, and hands almost forming into fists, expression as innocent as always. jake seems to catch on to what you’re about to do and before you can get up from lap, his hold on you gets tighter,"okay, i know you hate this candy, but i don’t want you getting hurt in any way, if he does anything i’ll make sure to set him right, for now i think he got it that he’s not gonna stare at you however he wants,” hand grabing yours in gentle caresses along the expanse of your arm. delicate and slow like a soothing rub. his touch just as enticing and stimulating it is, is also calming, knowing exactly how to pacify your hot headedness. jake finds that really hot about you, the way you look like you couldn't harm a bug but he's seen you throw kicks and punches (for the right reasons) ‘looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you’ he never knew that's his type. sometimes and really only some rare times he wonders if you're not as innocent as he thinks you are, getting rock hard at the thought of it, dick twitching multiple times imagining you saying and doing things that an angel like you shouldn't be.
for the rest of the ride he manages to lull you back to your sweet candy mode, making you laugh at his lame pick up lines, and occasionally tickling your sides. head falling back into his shoulder in cute giggles and hips rolling on him, damn only he knows how bad he's holding back. as shameless as he is he'd probably jump your bones right infront of everyone to see. thankfully you bring the decency in your relationship.
when your stop comes, he intertwines his fingers you as you walk out the compartment, just in case you decide to give the dude a slap before leaving.
“'m gonna flatten out all your abs today, you'll need to gym again,” jake chuckles, feeling you roll over his body like mei’s lint roller as he lays on your favorite fluffy kuromi rug typing away on his laptop an essay deadlined for tomorrow. the weight of your body on and off and the touch of your hot skin he feels funsies,“you do this all the time, candy and my abs have never left. how can i let them? knowing how much you love it,” reaching behind to hold you still on his back. you are glad he can't see the way your cheeks warm up at that, a bashful look on your face remembering all the times he's caught you ogling at his body.
“why are you sulking?” he asks when you don't respond with a whine like you usually do. aware that you behave this way either when you’re over the top bathing in happiness or dissatisfied with something.
“’m gonna gain weight now because of you, i’ll see all the snacks and sweets in the pantry and not be able to resist binge eating,” you lightly punch at the curve of his shoulders, dropping your head into the crook of his neck in a pout. jake turns around swiftly to hold you in a hug, wanting nothing more than to cheer you up,“i love your belly anyhow, whether it’s visible or not,” giving the plump flesh of your stomach a zephyr-like pinch. you wince playfully drawing back inches to tease him only to drop down into his arms to hug him back seconds later,“yeah whatever,” his words make you feel butterflies, a turmoil of frenzy and fuzzy feelings, cheeks growing warm once again, and the warmth spreading all over your mind this time. why does he have to be so sweet to you?
you both stay like that for a while breathing slowly, and taking in the comfort of a hug, the room saturated with a restful and serene silence. you’re the first to pull away,“you should finish that essay, i have to prepare for my test next week,” jake groans at the loss of your touch, wailing out with his hands as you leave the room.
”i’m joining you as soon as i finish this!”
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four days later on the weekend, you sit on the couch alone, wrapped in the thin lilac charmeuse blanket jake got for you (he said it the softness of it, reminded him of you.) waiting for your him to join you. eight in the morning with ‘tangled’ running on the tv, it's not something jake would ever want to do, but he gives in because you like it; bonus sometimes when you get a little sleepy, he grabs the chance to cuddle you as close as he can, leaving a few fluttering kisses on your temple and cheeks. he's grateful you never say anything about it and just let him be.
“yunie, can you pass me the watermelon in the fridge? the one from yesterday,” you spare a quick glance towards jake as he walks out his room. his headset rests loosely around his neck, half naked, wearing only a pair of sweatpants and his black hair all dishevelled: looking even more messier due to the perm he got last week. “yeah sure,” the rasp in his voice as he mumbles out softly gives away the fact that he probably stayed up all night again.
taking the half a piece of watermelon out and grabbing a spoon, jake scoops out a small little portion. going up to your slouched figure on the couch, and extending it out for you to eat,“here you go, candy,” he does it quite often, infact he loves to feed you. seeing your cheeks full and your eyes sparkling makes him feel fond as much as it turns him on. picturing you the same way on your knees between his legs with his dick stuffed in your mouth. choking and gagging on him, tears dropping down your pretty eyes while you stare up at him with this same doe look. it'd be heaven. even more so if he would have to teach you how to do it right, further fueling the massive corruption kink he seems to have harboured after meeting you.
he passes you melon after you take the bite, sitting beside you with his legs crossed. eyes trained on the way you fill in more in your mouth than you can handle, face all round and full,”eat slowly,” he flicks at your forehead.
“do you want to go buy a new sofa at ikea tomorrow? this one’s pretty small,” he adds a minute later, raising his brows subtly.
“well, first of all i didn’t plan to have a roommate and secon- i swear if it’s for your hook-ups i’m kicking you out!” it comes out in a yell, voice raising with every syllable before you spit a seed at him. one that due to your bad aiming skills instead of landing on his face, falls and sticks to the skin of his chest. damn those muscles they get you feelings things you probably shouldn't be.
putting away the watermelon on your tea table, you pick up mei and settle her on your lap, pulling back your blanket which had slipped off in a crackle of laughter,“this is public space have some decency before you have such thoughts!”
“stop making me appear like a horndog!” he laughs along, whinning at your false accusations in giggles and a look of faux disbelief.
“well that is exactly what you are!” you throw the closest cushion at his face. grinning with your signature cutesy doe eyes and jake is a goner. he always is.
“no don't do this me,”
“change the sheets then, it's your turn this week,” turning away from him, you fix your eyes on rapunzel climbing down the tower. trying to avoid the way he stares at you with betrayal, immediately scooting over to tickle you.
“you cheeky liar it's your turn,” his hands glossing over your ticklish areas.
“i love you,” in a fit of uncontrolled giggles, you shout. pushing against him to escape only to have your wrists pulled away, held together in a tight grasp and pinned above your head. “candy! i love you is not gonna get you out of chores come on i'll help you. we'll watch tangled later. together, i promise,” his laughter dies down with every word he utters, whispering out the last part as he becomes aware of the proximity between you two. so close you both think, breaths slowing down and heartbeats picking up the pace with each passing second.
“we're doing this okay?” jake whispers again, albeit, his tone a tad bit more heavy and bothered. an ambiguous daze clouding over, as if he is talking about something entirely different than just changing sheets. a twinge of lust bubbling inside. having you under him like this makes him realize just how desperately he wants you, and how bad his strength kink blooms for you. to have you whimpering and moaning, gaze all hazy as you let him do whatever he wants with you. damn he feels his dick twitch at that, gulping nervously hoping you wouldn't notice.
“you look like eugene,” you mumble out suddenly and jake feels his thirst rise off the roof, because the size difference between the characters? he wouldn't deny he thought of you the first time he saw the animation. wanting you have you in his arms the same way.
“then you must be my rapunzel,” you feel even more flustered if that's possible, your stomach twisting and twirling at his words until,”now come on we gotta keep the house clean for mother gothel,” jake let's his grip on you loosen, taking a moment to get off you.
“yunie!”
“i'll make you some sweet soy-glazed potatoes too later,” he voice drowns out as he enters you bedroom first.
“well i guess it's okay then,” you giggle following after him.
“candy that's not how you tuck in the corners,” jake scolds you for nth time, running after you to fix the edges you mess up deliberately time and again. “hey! candy! get down!” you make it a chaos for him, jumping onto the unmade bed and messing up the sheets all the way.
“oops,” there's a devilish grin on your face as jake pauses to watch you have your sugar rush episode.
“if you wanna wrestle again and end up under me, just say so,” he teases, inching closer and grabbing you by the waist. you both laugh again as if you weren't dripping with need for each other just moments ago. he picks you up and walks to the door putting you down by the sill,”i seriously need to get this done, you go and peel the potatoes for me,” you can't cook for the sake of god and letting you use knives is like a deathwish, jake can only hope peeling will keep you busy and safe enough to not end up with cuts anywhere.
the doorbell rings just as you step into the kitchen, walking back to the front in a sluggish sigh. feeling utter regret for answering the door, the instant you notice the figure outside. not wanting to reveal the presence to jake, you shut the door behind.
he peeps out your room at the sound of it, shrugging it off as nothing because you’ve done it lot many times: when your friends show up because you simply don’t want them to fall under his radar as prey.
you spare an indifferent glance at the way eunsang stands tall; hands folded with a cocky look on her rather gorgeous face. she's a beauty and you hate to admit that, a vibe so opposite of you it makes you insecure considering jake's hooked up with her more than a few times. “i’m here to see jake,” she states, tilting her head to point over at the closed door, all the sugary honeyed act she keeps up around him nowhere to be seen.
“and he doesn’t want to see you, didn’t he tell you it was the last time,” you counterattack, folding your arms and straightening up to look intimidating. your stare is one of taunt, carrying a gaze of boredom in hopes to establish that you're one to reckon with.
“are you jake? i said i want to talk to jake not you,” her heels click in impatience and underlying disgust in the tone she uses with you gets on your nerves.
you close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the annoyance in you before it turns into anger, tongue poking at the side of your cheek, “and are you deaf? i said he does not want to talk to you,” assert dominance, assert dominance you repeat over and over in your head.
but what she says next makes you lose your temper.
jake, the very epicenter of it all, on the other hand has no idea of what's going on outside until there's a scream that sounds too much like you, one turning into many more. it's frantic and inhumane, the speed at which he runs out. dropping everything and anything. there in broad daylight he finds you and eunsang trying to rip each other's hair out in the thankfully empty hallway. he doesn't know if he should be worried more about your scalp hurting or your throat tearing from how loudly you scream over eunsang. his hands flail as he contemplates on breaking the fight or letting you calm down, which you probably won't as he knows. he grabs onto eunsang's hands on your head trying to loosen her grip on your hair, concerned over the pain you must be feeling while you're there now trying to kick her between her legs. she's shocked to say the least, watching him latch you off her in a swift motion and throw you over his shoulder. he takes you back inside quickly, groaning at your fists pounding against his back in a protest,”fucking let go of me! i’m gonna give her a good piece of my mind!”
“candy language!” putting you down by the kitchen softly, he grasps the side of your arms and forces you to look into his eyes,“stop fighting all the time, stay here i’ll talk to her, okay?” he speaks slowly as an attempt to calm you. when you wiggle off in a scornful shrug, he asks again, this time moving to cup your face, a tender look in his eyes,“okay?” you nod in a defeated sigh and he's out the door before you can say anything else. you're upset, really upset, you know what you did outside was not decent yet you can't get over the fact that he left you in here to go back to talk to her. he was on your tail last week trying to beg you to help him get rid of her and even shooed her out the unit harshly, what more is there to talk about?
truth to be told, this was how he first met you, or should he say saw you. it was the move in day, he had all the necessities for the week packed in a travel suitcase, with the other stuff to be brought in later on. he was waiting for the elevator in the lobby, more tense and anxious than ever to meet the girl he was going to be living with a good four years of his college life. hoping she'd not treat him like some stranger, or be someone impossible to get close to hash live with. along with little bits of curiosity and hopes again, that she'd be a pretty and sweet girl maybe someone help could form some kind of benefits with.
however never in a million years did he ever expect it to be the cute yet fierce girl in the elevator. to say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement, he was literally blown off his feet, scared or impressed, his confusion was massive. when the doors of the elevator had opened he had found you slapping a middle aged man,”fun? you think groping my butt ‘s fun, you sicko,” kicking him in the balls next. hard. jake had gulped at that, hard. heart on a pause. the look of feigned innocence on your face as you did all that. damn jake swears it was that moment he fell. maybe not romantically but you definitely got his dick hard.
you looked super cute, and you knew how to fight, jake thought he hit the jackpot when you turned out to be his roommate. pretty you were, definitely, and sweet wasn't even a question; you were sweet to him and you are a lot of sweet. the only thing that remains a mystery till now is if you'd taste as sweet. jake hopes he can find that out.
he returns a few minutes later, lips pursed in a small smile as he shuts the front door. it grows even wider when his eyes find you,“so your soy glazed potatoes,” he chuckles walking over to the kitchen and getting other things out.
“she called me a slut for living with a guy like you and i was in the midst of giving her a lecture on actually how good of a person you are-” you bang on the counter with a thud and turn around to face him,“and you dragged me in!” whinning in a pout that looked as upset as your furrowed brows.
jake glances over in amusement, halting to give you another grin as he boops your nose gently,“my darling candy, i’m only good to you,” the glare you throw his way only makes him snicker with adoration. the little flicker of bashfulness you feel making you break out in a smile which (thankfully, for you) jake doesn't notice.
“whatever, i’m gonna take a long shower. do not disturb me!” you leave in a rush afraid if you stay too long he'd see it all on your face.
ten minutes later, as you tiptoe to get your favorite shower gel from the shelf above the mirror, luck decides to remind you why you shouldn't ever stay away from jake sim. feet slipping on the wet floor, body colliding against the cold tiles in a thud loud enough to have jake come running.
“candy, you're okay? what happened? should i open the door? ‘m coming in,” his voice is laced with worry, snapping open the door to find you laying flat down, though to his relief not unconscious. he picks you carefully, bringing you to your room and seating you on the edge of the bed to check for any injuries. hands delicately caressing all over and asking if it hurts any where,”you're so clumsy, always getting me worried like shit,”
“language,” you giggle, trying to make him laugh and it works.
“sorry, just please be careful, okay?” his fingers brush back your hair as you give him a small nod,“do you feel pain anywhere?” another nod, and this one ticks his alarms.
“where!” your fingers reach out to press against the brooding crease between his brows, attempting to remove the frown from his face. and jake melts at that, feeling his heart flutter at your cuteness, god he loves this side of you so much.
“you little demon, look what happens if you don't shower with me,” laughing out together, oh how he wishes it were like this forever. and jake sim has never thought of a forever ever before.
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a month passes by in the blink of an eye, your routines and relationship staying the same as always, classes, his soccer practice and your weekly cleaning day. but what seems to have changed is his routine of bringing over girls, the number alarmingly cutting down day by day (which currently sits at zero) and what you haven’t noticed- his display of affection towards you growing more and more. yet you think nothing special of it, assuming that perhaps now he got a grip over himself. which is partially true. jake thought of you as deserving someone better, so it was only right that he became better. and what better way than to start with quitting the position of campus’ resident fuckboy.
after an all nighter the previous day, coming back from your classes you get straight to bed. changing you clothes and getting tucked under the blanket from around eight in the evening. jake returns from his soccer practice later, unaware of the fact that you're already passed out. opening your door to let you know of his night out plans,“candy, i’m gonna go out with jay and sunghoon! make sure to have your dinne- oh you were sleeping? i didn’t know i’m so sorry candy,” he mumbles out in a soft whisper towards the end, supressing a smile watching your sleepy figure under the covers. trying to rub out the drowsiness from your eyes; heavy blinking and a small pout, his cute girl.
“it’s okay no need to get up, go back to sleep, i’ll be back in the morning,” approaching the bed as you lay back down, he pats your head in a 'sleep well’ before leaving.
it's probably past midnight when you wake up to constant ringing of calls. fumbling around for your phone in a daze only to find a dozen calls from an unknown number and a bunch of texts from the same. it's jay, asking you to get jake from the bar they're at. saying the guy's refusing to go back with anyone that's not you: whining for your presence and making it hard for his two friends.
'where is my candy?’ jay and sunghoon are sick and tired of hearing it all night.
by the time you get him back to the apartment, it's three and your bones hurt from the weight of his body leaning all over you. it doesn't help that all he does is giggle and throw himself over you. there's been a lot of times you have seen him drunk, probably more than a dozen, but he's never looked as wasted as today. sunghoon told you it's because he drank way more than usual, and unbeknownst to you that you are the sole reason, you wonder of the things that plague his mind to the extent of drinking so much.
dragging him into his room you have him sit on his bed, going through his closet and getting him a pair of sweatpants and the first shirt you can grab. “come on yunie, get changed,” you hand him the clothes, turning away when he takes everything off nonchalantly. even though he likely would rather want you to look, from the many times he's said it before ‘why’re you looking away, candy it's all for you,’ his exact words. the bane of your existence.
after he's changed, you wipe the sweat off his body with a wet towel as much as you can. giving him a glass of water before leaving for your room when he grabs your wrist and stops you with his puppy eyes.
in the morning, around noon jake is the first one to wake up and having no memory of the previous night besides the fact that he was drunk. he sits at his desk chair, hands in his hair, watching you sleep on the other side of his bed, clad in his shirt. it’s like he feels everything is over and done from here. he did what he swore never to do, this was the very first thing he pinned on his mind as an important note: not using you even if he has very obvious feelings for you. he tugs on his hair in frustration, angry at himself for not staying in his lane when drunk. with his head hung in guilt, he doesn't notice you stirring awake, sitting up at the sight of his hunched figure.
“yun? are you okay? is the hangover severe? should i make you something for it?” startled at your soft voice, he flinches visibly. a thousand scenarios running through his mind and not one ends up good.
“you don’t even know any hangover recipes,” jake mumbles almost inaudibly.
“i can just search on the internet and try my best, it’s not like i’ll give you anything inedible,” you teaee, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere you feel in the air.
it takes him a moment to speak again, sounding as miserable as he has never before,“candy i’m,” he halts, gulping to hold back the lump in his throat,“i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to, i don’t why i, it's all my fault,” he stops again, leaving you confused and dumbfounded,“what are you saying? what apology?” it is when his eyes shift to stare at what you’re clad in, staying there for a hard minute when you get a rough idea of what he could be thinking of. your cheeks grow hot at the realization, shaking your head when unholy images pop up in your subconscious.
but the butterflies fly away just as fast as they came as his words dawn uppn you. even if it didn’t happen the fact that he wouldn’t mean it, want it, regret it has something in you twisting in pain, are you so bad? or that he actually really thinks of you as his little sister? that you read his affections wrong, assumed his feelings differently? your heart breaks more than a little at that.
“why? is it because i’m not like the others you have been with? because i’m not like eunsang? or because i’m not her? the one you were smiling so hard after talking to? are you dating he-”
“that’s the problem! you’re not like her! you’re not like anyone i've known before! you’re special and i’m afraid i’ll lose you, things will change and just i’ll have to get over you without even getting a chance,” it's the first time he's ever raised his voice at you, and the first time ever he's sounded so desperate, weak and dejected. so vulnerable.
the split moment of sadness dissipates with every word that sinks in. the revelation of a(n after)drunk confession. the fact that you're a different kind of special to him, that he would want a chance to be with you, that he's afraid to lose you. you supres the urge to laugh when it all settles into your understanding. having a better grasp over the bigger picture. your steps are slow and calculated as you walk over to him, sitting across his lap and cupping his cheeks in a fleeting breath of courage. his eyes almost bulge out when you brush your lips lightly against his, mumbling softly,“nothing happened, but if you still want i can give you a chance, it’s going to be hard though tolerating me, think wisely,” you giggle and jake malfunctions for an instant before grabbing you in a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
“of course, of course i do want it, i’ve always wanted it,” chanting out in a trance.
“your lips tasted like watermelon,” he mutters out some time after, eyes locking with yours in an intense pull. still in a daze that out of all the bad things that could've happened it was none. literally none plus you perhaps wanting him just as much as he wants you.
“i had some in the morning before you woke up, anyhow yours taste like alcohol and your breath is horrible, go and freshen up,” you push at his shoulder, getting off him to leave the room to cook something. probably (as you said) a recipe searched up on the web, hopefully edible enough for a hungover person.
when he comes out later, all showered and back to the jake you know: the one who likes his hair slightly messy and almost never in a shirt. “why were- are you wearing my shirt then?”
“you practically begged me to last night while sobbing for i don’t know what reason,” he's a bit flustered at that, but hey, it's what got him here, you gotta do what you gotta do.
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“candy, you wanna go out tonight? jay and sunghoon wanted to hang out but i don't wanna leave you so i said i’d bring you along,” jake asks, knocking at your door.
it takes you a little over a minute to open up but jake's does not mind it at all for obvious reasons, his jaw comically falling to the floor when you walk out in your tiny little blue sundress and the shade of lipgloss he was dying to see you in. you're unreal.
“yes! i heard you on call earlier,”
“oh my god candy, gimme a princess twirl,” the amount of desire he feels for you right now is unfathomable. biting his lips at the sight of your lace panties underneath that faintly flash him in the mini twirl you do. can you get any hotter?
“just fifteen minutes and i'll be ready,” he got ten minutes to do something about the boner he just popped, and it's more than enough to have him rub one out with what he just saw. maybe add a little hint of imagination and wondering what you'd sound like if he were to touch you down there. especially given the fact that the likelihood of it happening were through the roof now. you almost kissed last week, anything could happen at this point. and jake's dick gets impossibly sensitive at the odds of it.
at the restaurant, jay and sunghoon sit in an awkward silence, watching you both be all over each other. when they agreed for jake to bring his girl along, they didn't expect it to be so bad.
“um jake talks a lot about you,” sunghoon says trying to start a conversation that he knows probably wouldn't go anywhere.
“he does? that's so sweet,” you smile, giggling over something jake whispers in your ear, his hand palming over the plush of your exposed thighs,”what do you wanna eat?” sunghoon nerves feel boiled at the way jake completely skips over his attempt to talk to you. while jay sips at wine, agonizingly slow knowing this is how it's gonna be from now on. their friend is a changed man.
“i have this picture of jake from middle school, you'd love to see it i promise,” a little tipsy, sunghoon's persistence to put himself in the equation albeit admirable, annoys the fuck out of jake, scowling at the other well of aware of the so called picture he wants to share.
“jay man, take care of him. candy and i are going home,” jake gives them a tight lipped smile, holding your rather drunk self (it's just wine you had said)
“see you later ca- y/n,” at first jay leans in for a friendly hug but— nevermind. the way jake stares at him is scarily weird.
jake makes sure to have you sit on the couch before he leaves to get you water but you're sprawled out on the floor when he comes back. mumbling something about how cool the tiles feel against your skin,”come on you should drink some water,” jake pulls you up on your ass, sitting cross legged on the floor beside you. his hand softly holds the back of your head as he brings the glass to your mouth.
“alright say, what did you wanna say?”
“i wanna kiss you,” if jake thinks the pout on your lips is the cutest thing ever then the words you say must have to be the hottest thing ever. how can a simple word like kiss make his heart flutter so bad? and it's not even lust at this point.
he fulfils your wish without a thought, leaning in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. sucking on your bottom lip a second long before he pulls away and boops your nose. no tongue and no other intentions. the after taste of your gloss lingering in his mouth.
“let me tell you a secret,” you whisper out, moving over to his lap, knees on the floor each side.
“i knew you stole my kuromi panties,” he's shocked you know about it, he made sure to be extra careful with it, though his nasty ass was internally hoping you'd catch him.
“mhm, i do have it with me but it's not really wearable now,” he did not see this becoming something sexual but the moment you brought up the panties, you might as well have brought up his dick. man practically re-lived every single time he used it to jerk off, all those orgasms coming to life at once.
“you need to punished!” you whine,
“what do you wanna do?” and jake feels his dick get harder at that.
“can we kiss again?” oh my god, you make him feel so fuzzy and horny at the same time, it's unbelievable. in the guide of jake sim: to make him horny is relatively easy, to get him all fuzzy is once in a lifetime and to get him both at the same time is impossible. yet you do it so effortlessly.
jake answers you with his lips against yours again, relishing in the feeling of them on his own. all those times he wondered of how it'd feel like to kiss you seemed so lame now that he actually did. no imagination could ever come close to way he feels right now. his hand comes up to cup the side of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls away for a moment,”i wanna love you so much and take you on cute little dates and buy you all the food you want and fuck you so hard you only remember my name,”he mumbles against your lips in a bit whisper, letting you take a breath before he dives right back in. this time he lets his tongue slide in, rubbing against your own for a short while only to pull back and go for another trying to keep your lips pressed together for as long as he could. finally pulling away when he feels you push against him a little too roughly, a crawl of shudders all over his skin at the roll of your hips against his bulge.
“wan’ you to fuck me too,” you whine, this time desperately.
“fuck candy, you're drunk we shouldn't be doing this,” he reminds, failing miserably to hold himself back. his hands keep twitching to just grab your hips and grind you down on his dick until you're both cumming together.
“i’m not, i swear. i just drank a little because i couldn't have done this all sober,” even through the layers of clothes, jake can feel your neediness dropping with the way you roll your hips harder against him. speeding up when you think he's pushing you away, but he's just grabbing you closer by the waist. he can't deny how wanted he feels right now, feeling like he'd explode any second. the fuck were you so horny for him?
“are you sure this is okay?” he asks again. no matter how bad he's dying to fuck you, he'll never do it if you don't to.
“‘s okay, please yunie,” you feel his hands slide along your thighs and in between your legs. fingers faintly brushing over the wet patch on your panties in a sharp inhale. he grazes two fingers against your clit, testing the waters. rubbing harder when he feels your breathing pick up it's pace, switching to spank your clit impossibly fast having lost control at the sound of your wanton whimpers.
“don’t move and take it baby,” jake growls, pushing you flush against his chest, making your back arch more and more into him. tits bouncing right up in his face as he bends down to nibble as the exposed skin between them.
he stops for a moment only to push your panties to the side and touch you raw. rubbing rougher and so intense, your legs feel number from pleasure,”has anyone touched you like before?” his jaw clenches hard, eyes dark with want as they remain fixated at the sight of his hands on your pussy. fuck he finally knows what touching you feels like.
“ngh— no, fuck!” and it boosts jake's ego through the roof, he doesn't think he's ever felt as horny as he feels right now. the thought of being the first to touch you in your princess parts, the first you have seen you putty like this, the first to be the one to get you like this. fuck, fuck, fuck! he feels so turned on it's literally inhumane. precum oozing out his tip with every twitch of his dick.
“mm, gonna put my fingers in you,” you feel one of jake's fingers press into you, sliding inside easily with how dripping wet you are. the pornographic moan you let out when he slowly slips in another and curves up has his dick twitch so damn hard he thinks he just came untouched. you sound so cute yet so fucking hot, his mind is in a spiral of everything he wants to do to have you moan like that again and again until you're so drunk on pleasure, you only want him all the time.
“shit you're so tight and warm, can't imagine how good you'd feel around my cock,” his eyes keenly hooked on the way you raise your hips to meet the thrusts halfway,”y-yun, ‘s feels too g-good ah,”
“fuck you're so hot and so perfect for me,” his words travel straight to your core having you clench tight around his fingers and all of a sudden you find your oragasm hitting you as violently as jake continues to run you through it, fast and painfully pleasurable. enamoured and obsessed with the way your doe eyes struggle to stay open, mouth parting in a loud whine, back arching and hips shooting up. god you're a piece of art and jake doesn't think he's ever gonna want anyone other than you.
he immediately stands up with you in his arms, walking over to the kitchen counter and placing you gently on the cold marble. his fingers run through your hair in a soft caress, tucking in the messy strands behind your ears,”you sure you want this? we can stop here if you want. just say the word and i’ll stop,”
“wan’ yun to be my first,” you whimper wearily, jake feels his heart skip a couple of beats. your first, he wants to be your last too and you to be his last.
”gonna make you cum so much harder on my cock,” he places his hands on your thighs in a tight grip and forces them apart fervently. he so damn wants to eat you out but he also wants to feel you cum around his cock, it's a hard choice to make but his cock feels so angry and heavy slick from all the precum he shot out each time you whimpered or moaned or whined, if he'd wait to get his dick wet he'd probably actually come untouched from your sounds and reactions alone. and only god knows(jay too oops) how bad jake sim wants the first time he cums with you to be deep inside you. so much so that he might develop a kink of getting you knocked up (nope you're too young for that!)
he takes his pants off in a snap, practically ripping his boxers along with it, grabbing his rock hard dick, throbbing and red at the tip and trusting into his fist a couple of times. breathing heavy at the way you watch him with your lips between your teeth. he wonders how good it'd feel to watch you touch yourself while he does the same, cumming together with your eyes locked. but he probably doesn't have that kind of self control to just watch you touch yourself, when he can do it himself?
he taps his tip against your clit for a hot minute sliding it along your folds in a strained groan. you're so embarrassing wet, it's like jake could shove himself inside immediately and your you'd hardly feel pain for a while. however, holding back his desires, he pushes into you slowly, holding your body close and stroking your back soothingly,”let me know when i can move,” a tender kiss at your forehead, trying to make sure you know you have the say it in.
jake groans as you give him the go seconds later,”mhmmm candy⁠— baby,” moaning soft and lustful as he pulls out till the tip and thrusts all the way in. your insides feel so warm and gummy, walls clenching around him crazy tight. he thinks he'll lose his mind and end up cumming embarrassingly fast like a teen getting pussy for the first time. the way he feels the pleasure throb in his veins so intense all over his body, it's almost numbing.
your hands loop around his neck, fingers scratching at his back as he pounds into you rough, his pace hard and fast pushing all his body weight against you.
“don't think i can ever get enough of you,”
the sight of the thin straps of your dress slipped to the sides, tits almost spilling out of the front gets jake going, fueling him to grab at you anywhere and everywhere his hands can possibly go,”tell me im dreaming fuckkk— i've wanted you for so long, can't count the number of times i've jerked off to the thought of having you like this, so pretty and dumb under me,” all those evenings when you roamed around the unit in the shortest shorts and the smallest crops, driving him mad shit insane, having to sneak off into the bathroom multiple times. fisting his cock hard, groaning and biting back his moans as he got off to the thought of you, while you sat all unaware and innocent on the other side of the wall.
he stops abruptly, pulling out in a frenzy and turning you around on your heels and pushing you by the back of your neck to lay against the cool granite. one hand going down to grab at your thigh and hook it up on the counter, drooling at the way your pussy glistens from the angle. he shoves his dick back in without a warning, feeling your ass collide against him harsh yet fervid.
you both pant in rasps when his cock hits a sensitive spot inside you. he shifts to angle himself just right to repeatedly brush against that spot and you mewl out loud at that, so loud your neighbours probably know what you're up to.
“fuck i can't stand not seeing your cute face,” jake bends over to grab you by your throat, pulling you up and flush against him, head resting back at his shoulders as he forces to look at him, fingers gripping your jaw softly,”eyes on me, okay baby?” grunting from deep within his chest, a wild grin on his face as he watches you get lost in ecstasy,”i’ll get you addicted to my cock,” just like how addicted he already is with your pussy and everything about you.
his other hand reaches up to tug the front of your dress down, groping up one of your tits, a silk touch to see your reaction. loving the way it's so obvious how sensitive you are there. mouth parting open with you in sensuous gasps as he twists your nipple harshly, rubbing the tip with his thumb. your walls clench a little too hard and your back arches off as you push your hips back into him, the tell tale signs of you getting close,”my baby's gonna cum for me?”
holding your jaw to have your eyes trained on him, he unexpectedly inserts his thumb in your mouth pressing against your wet tongue, your red swollen lips too tempting to resist,“fuck yes, show me how pretty you cum,” you mumble out a series of incoherent words in hazy chant.
the hand on your breast slips down to your lower abdomen pressing rashly against his bulge, feeling faint movement of his cock deep inside you. fuck you're so small and delicate. his hold on you tightening as his calloused fingers find your neglected bud, rolling it in quick, tight circles. it's so painful yet you feel so good, tears wailing down your cheeks as your orgasm crashes hard, overwhelming and violent, thighs trembling and pussy clenching uncontrollably. jake's continues to rub your clit, helping you ride out your high. eyes fluttering shut, and swallowing thickly at the sensation of you creaking over his sensitive length, cock throbbing impossibly hard.
jake refuses to stop even after you have come down,”one more candy, i know you can do one more for me,” hips hammering into you at full force, and lips finding yours in ragged breaths. and it dawns on you what exactly you have gotten yourself into when you feel the two of his fingers protruding at your entrance, trying to push in beside his cock,“if you try to close your legs i'm gonna punish you,” he warns making you whine into his mouth.
in a flash he turns your body to face his, quickly shoving his cock and fingers back into you. his other hand spanking the skin of your ass and kneading it a soft caress after. he eyes hypnotized at the view of you taking him in, a white ring of your cum adorning the base of his cock. he spits at your clit, once again toying with the engorged bud, pinching and flicking,”“gonna make you cum until you pass out, fuck i really wanna do that⁠—” your hand darts out to grip at jake's wrist, feeling too overwhelmed with hypersensitivity. wanting to shy away but the pleasure’s so good you can't bring yourself to push him away.
“but it's your first time,” jake mumbles between hoarse grunts.
before you can even realize it yourself your third orgasm courses through you vehemently. body jerking and twitching, almost falling over if not for jake's hold. jets of cum gushing out as you moan loud.
feeling you spill down his cock, all warm and tight, his brutal rhythm falters,”fuck- ‘m gonna cum,” eyes locking with yours as he thrusts once, twice and then stills, burying himself deep, streams of cum shooting out. hot spurt after spurt, swollen cock twitching against your walls. goosebumps all over, his legs quiver from how hard he came.
he stays quiet and motionless for a while, his arms wrapped around your shaking body. breathing in the scent of your shampoo, trying to calm his pounding heart and cock.
“you good candy? i’m sorry, i think i went a little rough on you,” you nuzzle into him in quiet,’its okay’ as he strokes your head, leaving fluttering kisses over your face. picking you up by the thighs he brings you to your bed, laying you down and gently pulling out. groaning at the way all your mixed cum oozes out, pretty little hole clenching around nothing.
exhausted, you let your mind drift, feeling the drowsiness kick in while jake bends between your legs with a wet towel. whining wearily, when his lips wrap around your nub in a suck, the wet sensation of his tongue against your clit like a shot of electricity,”sorry, baby just had to do that once,” he knew he didn't just call you candy for nothing and he was right. grining sheepishly as he wipes the rest of the cum off, cleaning you all up.
“you're nasty,” you manage to whisper out.
“only for you,” the touch of his body is hot and comforting, arms around your waist cuddling closely(and half naked).
“let's shower together in the morning, wanna eat you out so-”
“jake!”
“what? it's the truth!”
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the following around four in the afternoon before jake has to leave for his soccer practice, you approach him on the couch, as always re-watching an episode of vincenzo. you haven't talked much about labels, but it's known to everyone that you're sorta together. more like jake is taken by you. his friends weren't too surprised to know about you both, it was obvious jake had the hots for you and from the little hangout at the restaurant they figured it all worked out for him.
“incoming, pocky!” you sit beside him with a banana flavored pocky stick between your teeth, leaning in teasingly.
“oh you want me so bad,” he plays along inch closer and biting it off in a snap, lips barely brushing against yours.
pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed into his chest, he locks you in place, chuckling at the way you attempt to escape. his fingers twirling the ends of your hair as you surrender in seconds, switching to watching the show absent-mindedly,”my parents wanted to meet you,” he drops the bomb, tracing random letters on your skin to distract of the fact that he just mention a meeting with parents.
“as my roommate, actually,” quickly adding the important point, fingers poking at your cheeks like jello.
“so suddenly though?” you think back on all the things you have ever done to him, for them to want to see you. perhaps they think of you as a snobby girl who’s indulging their son’s already unpleasant habits.
“they’ve actually been wanting to meet you for the past three months, i was putting it off but now summer break is starting next week and i have no more excuses to give,” hugging you, he rests his head on the curve of your neck, breathing in the smell of watermelon that surrounds you after you had basically devoured a whole at lunch. “if you don’t want to then you don’t have to, i’ll talk to them,” he assures, not wanting you to feel obligated to agree, or force yourself despite being uncomfortable.
“no it’s okay, we can go meet them. how long will the drive be?” fumbling with his red knuckles, your mind wanders off to when he fingered you, growing hot and embarrassed all of a sudden. hardly listening in on his answers.
when jake leaves for his soccer practice, you find time to complete the trivial chores around the house. watering the plants with a pout, missing jake more than ever. you have completely different majors and you are not in any clubs either to stay after classes. the only time you spend together being the one at the apartment which is also cut down by his frequent practice sessions, sometimes in the morning during weekends and normally most evenings on weekdays. it makes you ponder on whether you should try out for any club, after all these years doing something else besides studying. but you have no idea what you should consider, having no knowledge on which clubs you could be eligible to join.
it takes you two whole weeks and a bunch of outfit checks to find yourself on your way to meet jake's parents. feeling almost weird and exhilarating at how his parents and his older brother welcome you. treating you so well even though they recognize you as nothing more than just his college apartment roommate who helps fix his laptop and tolerates the boy knowing the kind of womanizer he is. appearing more as a meeting with in-laws when you jake and you are not even official yet, more so they have no idea of what's going between you two.
they try their best to make you feel at home. during the lunch as jake had told them beforehand, his mother had a few sweet dishes prepared for you, coddling you just as jake does back at your unit. they talk to you about casual things including your likes and dislikes, what major you are in, whether jake treats you well, if you have any complaints regarding his behavior. it doesn’t feel as awkward as you as thought it would and you didn't have to put on any act as you prepared yourself to do.
in the beginning of your roommate journey, his accent, his voice was the first thing to attract you but slowly as you explored his personality you came to like him for more than just what attracted you to him. now you as you spend time with people closest to him, you understand where he got it all from. the sweet person he is, which you never expected a fuckboy to be, you didn’t even have an ounce of hope that he’ll acknowledge your presence in the apartment when you got to know about his playing around conduct. yet he turned out to be the sweetest boy you’ve ever come around in your life ( and the nastiest perhaps, )
when you are sitting alone with his brother, while jake is away downstairs to bring you something sugary to eat, his brother takes it as a chance to share his thoughts,“you know until i heard him call you candy a while ago, i was under the impression that 'candy’,” he quotes it specially with a movement of his fingers,“is supposedly a cheerleader fling of his after i saw the contact name showing up when he got a call the last time he was here,” giving you a sly look as he catches sight of jake approaching,“turns out it’s you, i never knew he is the type to give such sweet, unique petnames,”
before you leave in the evening, jake makes sure to let them know that you’re toegther, and that he’s not playing around this time. he’s willing to give effort into it and change his usual ways of living, to be better for himself and as well as for you.
on your way there you had thought of a lot things, had a lot of assumptions and expectations. even prepared yourself to hear things that’ll stick to you not so positively. but what stays in your mind now is completely unexpected and opposite of what you had internally composed yourself for. it’s all you can think of in the car and after you’re back in the comfort of your familiar apartment.
cheerleader, not a bad idea—
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“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.
“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.
“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.
“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.
“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.
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starcrossedmusings · 21 days
Text
Pretty Hands
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Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)
Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.
A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡
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Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.
"Yun? I'm here!"
His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"
You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.
"Whats up?"
"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."
Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"
"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."
Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"
You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."
"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."
"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."
Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"
"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.
"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."
"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."
Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"
"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."
"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."
You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."
You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."
You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"
Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.
"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.
"You set me up!"
"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."
"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"
"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."
"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.
"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"
"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.
You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.
"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."
"You sound jealous."
"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."
"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."
"I do not!"
"Do too."
"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."
"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."
He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.
An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"
"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.
"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.
"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"
"It's embarrassing..."
"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"
"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"
"I won't I swear!"
"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."
He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.
You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."
Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."
"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."
"Liar."
You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.
"Yun stop it--"
"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.
"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--
Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.
He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.
Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"
"Yeah?"
"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"
A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"
"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."
Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.
"Like...like right now he does?"
You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."
Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.
In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.
"Is this okay?"
You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.
"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"
You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."
Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"
The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."
He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."
You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.
"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."
Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."
Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.
Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.
"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"
You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.
"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"
You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.
"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."
Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.
"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.
Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"
You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."
He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.
"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.
"I look forward to that."
"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."
Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.
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the other five [ five hargreeves x reader ]
request: Hello! This is my first time desperately requesting a fic because the new season is SO bad 😭 Can you write a fic where the reader finds out about everything that happened between Five & Lila and then she gets taken away by one of the Fives at the deli and promising her that he’ll treat her better than OG Five (You can also add a part where OG Five finds out about this and lives to regret it)
a/n: AU where everything in that trash season was the same, except when five made the first jump in s1 he made it in his 32 yr old body bc i will not have y/n pull a zach justice (lmao)
even if lila did 😭😭
anyways basically everyone is the same age
i like to think of the five that comforts y/n as the five that explained everything to five in the last episode because that one literally felt like the five we were supposed to get, the five that was there all the first three seasons
sorry i cant stop trashing this season you guys 😭 i’m just so disappointed
summary: after breaking up with five, you make up with… well, five
part two
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“Leave me alone, Five!” You yelled in despair, pushing the man before you away, “Actually, first take me back home, you psycho! I have nothing to say to you!”
“Y/N, please, just hear me out!” Five tried to reason with you, as if anything he would say could make your heart glue itself back.
You were standing in the subway station after Five had blinked himself and you away from the family- or what was left of it, watching him at loss of words. You didn’t recognize the man before your eyes, as much as you tried. You didn’t even have time to gather all your thoughts since there was yet another impending apocalypse on its way, so your mind was completely all over the place.
Five Hargreeves was not the same Five Hargreeves you fell in love with all those years ago. He was not the same man who had stolen your heart and made you feel like you were the most precious person in the world. He wasn’t your partner anymore, he wasn’t your lover. Your boyfriend wasn’t there. You looked at this person and there was a stranger, acting as if he was the same who had hugged you, held your hand, kissed you all those many times. You were questioning everything about him now.
“Take me back!” You yelled again, ignoring his same pleas, curling your hand in a fist, “I’m this fucking close to making you ash!”
As your pure anger got the best of you, you were ready to let your powers take over for a second. Obviously you weren’t actually going to hurt him, no matter how much you wanted him to feel your pain, at least physically.
You met him six years ago, during the first time you tried to stop the apocalypse. You were also one of the extraordinary kids, but luckily enough, Reginald Hargreeves didn’t manage to adopt you- more so, purchase you. You only met Five not long after he managed to time travel back to his family in 2019 after spending all those decades by himself. Before you knew it, you were dragged into the Hargreeves family and your relationship soon after developed.
Your six year relationship that was so merry a few hours ago. Now it was crumbled, trashed.
What hurt was that it was six years only to you. Five managed to block himself seven years away from you, only in the presence of Lila.
“This is so fucking stupid,” You scoffed, fighting back the tears in your eyes, “It’s fucking over! Do you want me to spell it out for you?!”
“I want you to listen!” Five didn’t give up on arguing, “I thought I’d never see you again!”
“You didn’t want to see me again!” You screamed, wailing your hands in the air, “Fucking save it- It’s over! I don’t want to ever see you again if we survive this apocalypse! You ruined our relationship, you ruined your brother’s marriage, family! For fucking Lila!”
You hated him absolutely. The mere thought of his infidelity, of the nerve to act as if he still loved you, it was all despicable.
You grew to love all of your boyfriend’s siblings, and also your nieces and nephews, even if you and Five were not yet married. You planned to be a part of the family officially, but still wanted to focus on your careers, you wanted to adjust yourself to your old life, back to your origins.
“Y/N, please!” He tried to step, towards you, but you started stepping away.
Thoughtlessly, because of all your anger, you just walked towards the first train approaching you, fully intending to be away from him at whatever cost.
“If you don’t want to take me back, I’ll fucking find my own way!” You hopped onto the train, watching as he tried to catch up with you.
But he was too late.
In hindsight, maybe it was not the smartest idea, but you were just so devastated nothing made sense to you anymore. You spent the past six years thinking that you are set for the rest of your life, now that the world wasn’t ending anymore. You reconnected with your family, you built a career for yourself and were living happily with Five, you had literally just finished settling yourself in the new house you bought together. You couldn’t understand how he could do this to you.
You couldn’t understand how Lila could betray your friendship either, especially Diego and their kids.
You tried to make it make sense, be reasonable- it was only a few hours to you, but they were lost in this subway system for seven years.
But then again, Five was lost in the future 45 years by himself and he didn’t give up on trying to return to his family once.
Now he did, he gave up on trying to return to you.
That’s definitely another aspect that stung.
“Fucking piece of shit,” You mumbled, as the train approached its first station, “How do I fucking get out of here?”
You stumbled out of the sub, taking in your surroundings. It was yet another crumbled down station, but if you were to be at least a tiny bit fair, it was maybe a bit better kept. You looked around curiously, trying to figure out where to go from now on. Your fire-based superpowers were totally useless in this situation, so you hated to admit that you were in a bit of a pickle.
You rolled your eyes, as Five rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks, watching you with widened eyes.
“You again?” You sighed angrily, “Take me back or get out of my sight, Five.”
Five raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets curiously. He didn’t say a word yet, as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He slowly stepped towards you, not taking his eyes off you once. For a split second, you stopped as well, sending that something was up.
You took in his features, trying to make sense of what was going on, realizing that he didn’t have a coat on him. He was wearing the exact three piece suit an black tie, he was wearing the same silver watch on his left hand, but he didn’t have his coat on.
“Y/N,” He smiled, stopping in front of you, “I never thought I’d see you again, more so here.”
“What the fuck is going on?” You calmly asked, over-analyzing the man before you.
His smile didn’t drop. It was a genuine one, a smile you hadn’t seen in a while. Things between you and Five were okay a few hours ago, but he hadn’t watched you with this look since you first met. His eyes were sincere, taking in every single feature of yours, traveling all over your body.
“I take it your Five danced the devil’s tango with Lila,” He sighed deeply, raising a hand to gently brush away your tears.
When did you even start crying?
Your mind was scrambled all over the place, but at that exact moment you couldn’t say another word. You just melted into his touch, feeling warmth. It really hadn’t been that long since Five touched you, but this touch felt different. His hand rested on your cheek, as his thumb caressed you lightly. His touch was so intoxicatingly sweet, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’m so sorry I’m a literal shitface in some other timelines,” He lightly shook his head, “I’m so sorry.”
“What is going on?” You asked once again, calmer this time.
For whatever reason, you relaxed in an instant. You couldn’t tell if it was because of his gentle touch or simply his presence. Ironic, since just ten minutes ago you were ready to set him on fire.
“Come with me, my love,” Five said, grabbing your hand in his, “I’ll explain everything.”
You didn’t fight his touch, locking your fingers with his. None of you said a word, as you watched you hands fit so perfectly in one another. How could your relationship be over when you were so good together?
You followed Five through the subway station, rounding the same corner he appeared from. You watched as he turned his head to give you a reassuring smile, lightly squeezing your hand in comfort.
After a few more steps and going down a couple of stairs, you widened your eyes seeing a literal deli tucked away in this godforsaken out of order subway system. The headlights above the front entrance were lit up, writing Max’s Delicatessen. You saw inside a huddle of people as you entered, gathering everyone’s attention.
When they all turned to look at you, you literally couldn’t tell whether you or the huddle of people was more shocked.
They were all Fives.
There was music playing inside, as the deli was full of different versions of your boyfriend, whether they were customers sitting at the tables, drinking coffee or having a meal, reading the newspaper or having a chat. There were also other Fives working around, waiting tables or cooking in the back.
Nonetheless, they all stopped to look at you.
“Yeah, yeah, Y/N is here, carry on, you guys,” The Five that was holding your hand waved the others off with his free hand, “She needs a moment, stop being creeps.”
“I can’t tell if this is a dream come true or my worst nightmare,” You said, looking around the deli, as Five guided you towards an empty booth.
You sat down as the other picked up again whatever they were doing, still watching you with the corner of their eyes. Five took a seat in front of you, still holding onto your hand on top of the table, using his other hand to rub small circles on your skin.
“I am not the Five that dragged you here, in case you didn’t tell yet,” Five managed to say, “But I’m pretty sure that you did, since I know you’re smarter than he gives you credit for.”
“He did mention that this subway system is the knot to multiple timelines,” You sighed, as Waiter Five set down two cups of steaming coffee on the table.
You watched him curiously, as he looked yet again exactly like Five, wearing just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with a black tie, pantsuit pants and a server apron around the waist. He smiled at you warmly, setting down two small packs of sugar and a creamer.
“I’m sorry, my love, we don’t have any Irish Capuccinos around here, since you’re the first Y/N to set foot in here,” He apologetically smiled, “I can only get you a shot of whiskey, if you’d like.”
Of course they all knew your favorite coffee.
“Make it a bottle,” You said, cracking a smile for the first time, causing him to chuckle, before walking away to attend to your order.
“I can’t begin to explain how much I missed your smile, darling,” The Five before you said, as you turned back to him, “The Handler got to the Y/N in my timeline,” He added, as sadness took over his eyes, “I missed you so much.”
“I can’t understand how you’re the same Five that fell in love with Lila,” You said, before quickly adding, “I mean- technically, you’re not, but still.”
“Everyone around here is a different version of me, from a different timeline,” He said, “I’m one of the many that didn’t go down that road.”
“Thank you, I guess,” You laughed, making him smile again.
What a sweet smile it was.
“When I lost you, I was a total wreck,” He confessed, as you couldn’t help but place your other hand on top of his, “I love you so much, Y/N, I could never hurt you like that no matter what. This is all such a fucked up turn of events, but when I saw you coming out of that train, my mind froze.”
“I love you too, Five,” You said, “But I need to wrap my head around what is going on- Everything is insane, I mean I’m right now in the middle of yet another apocalypse, I just found out that you love Lila and there’s just so fucking many of you.”
“I know, my love, I know,” Five nodded, “I wouldn’t dare to ask you accept everything so fast, I know it’s a lot to take in.”
“Can you just… hold me?” You asked, watching as he didn’t waste another second and got up to slide ne t yo you in the booth.
Wrapping one arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, he used his other one to caress your hair. You nuzzled your face into his shirt, taking in his scent, as you felt a wave of certitude wash over you. Five held you tightly into his arms, embracing you after years of your absence. He was grateful to have you in his arms once again.
And he was not about to let go anytime soon.
“I’ll always hold you, my love,” Five muttered, peppering small kisses in your hair.
The Five from your timeline watched from behind the window as you took comfort in his arms, but not exactly his arms.
This was only the beginning of his lifelong regret.
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myname-isnia · 1 year
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My sleep schedule's a bit messed up after a week of holiday and I can't fall asleep at a reasonable time while at my grandma's, so obviously I'm once again being plagued by my favourite kind of brain rot
Currently thinking about how there must have been a small moment of peace, a few weeks maybe, before Zaheer's breakout starts having major consequences but after Kuviren figure their shit out and everyone warms up to each other, where the Kids can relax and take a breather and act like the teenagers they never got to be
Because yes, I'm standing by what I said, none of the kids ever got to be actual teenagers:
Suiren had to grow up quickly after the loss of her parents. Her whole childhood was spent taking the brunt of Haya's violence, always aching, always hungry, with no one to turn to. The world's not fair, she learned quickly. You've got to help yourself because no one else will. You have to get Midori out of here. She trained herself not to cry, not to need as much food, not to require comfort. As she entered her teens, her childhood self had already starved to death. By the time she turned 13, she was already weary and burdened and exhausted, with no hopes for the future. By 15 she dropped out of school, and her only friends all that time were her sister and her moose lion. She can't think of anything but protecting Midori. No job in Gaoling will take her, deterred by her lack of schooling, her swamp heritage and what Haya had said about her. But money has to be earned somehow. Most girls like her end up in brothels, but she knows her prodigious waterbending skills could be put to a different use. By 17 she's an assassin, spending hours in the shower trying to scrub away the blood that is no longer there, focusing on nothing but the next mission, slicing the throats of those young girls with sparkling golden brown eyes that sometimes show up in the corners of her vision. The supposed carefree teenage years that she was owed are now way beyond her understanding.
Midori is not as weighed down with the weight of the world as Suiren, but she had her youth stolen as a consequence of what happened at the South Pole all those years ago too. Her trauma – Haya yelling at her for the slightest mistake, always calling her a useless child, calling her weak and a whiny brat for showing emotions natural to any child in her situation – left her extremely anxious, so quiet it's very easy to forget she's even there. Children are meant to be seen and not heard. And then there's the guilt, knowing full well her sister skips meals for her, takes punishments for her, endures beatings for her, no matter how hard Suiren tries to hide it. Midori hit puberty already wishing she was never born, maybe then Suiren's burden would have been alleviated. All of that in turn made it impossible for her to make friends, not to mention everyone knowing that her sister is the swamp freak, and their aunt's endless list of chores practically kept her chained at the house so she couldn't go out even if she had the chance to. She spent her 17th birthday fully aware her parents are out there, and allowed herself a childish hope that they'll be reunited, just like she always wished for thirteen long, horrible years. But her parents were killed within weeks afterwards. The day they got the news of their demise was the day she knew there was no going back. The day she knew that she was now an adult.
Bolin was protected by Mako for most of his life, ever since his parents were murdered when he was six, but even with his brother always looking out for him, what kind of childhood is living on the streets, running errands for triads? Still, out of the hundreds of homeless children in Republic City, he and Mako are the lucky ones, they were discovered and taken in by that probending trainer. But nothing in Republic City comes for free, and the two of them just so happen to make up two thirds of a team. His early teenage years were, he realises now, wasted, training in probending all day, every day. They go out on the field in every match they can but are still barely getting enough in earnings to scrape by, and life is only bearable because they can stay unconditionally in that room above the arena. He adores probending, the love and attention from his fans, but more often than not wishes he was part of the groups of friends that come to watch the games instead. He meets Korra at 16 and within the year has to witness her almost die three times, and despite all that training he was near powerless to stop it. After that was all over, he enlisted in Kuvira's army at 17, trying to get rid of that feeling of helplessness by deciding to help fix the mess created in the world during that year. But a soldier cannot be a child, and a child cannot be a soldier.
Kuvira's childhood ended the day her parents abandoned her at Suyin's front gate and never looked back, leaving her with nothing but the clothes on her back and a small sack of belongings. All for sometimes acting out, a result of them never paying her any attention as well as her possessing stronger bending than she could handle. It was easier to label her a problem child and get rid of her than to realise the cause of the issue. Suyin was different from her parents, extremely impressed by Kuvira's bending skills, to the point she made her her protege, and Kuvira, so unused to the praise, threw herself headfirst into making Suyin proud. Bending, dancing, training... It took up all of her free time, but as long as she gained Suyin's approval, she found that she didn't care. What use would she have for that much free time anyway? She's 17 and already made captain of the Zaofu guard as well as named the best dancer in the troupe. Some say it's because she's Suyin's prized pupil, but no one can deny that her metalbending is outstanding. But she never has time to hang out with the girls from the dance team or her comrades from the guard, and she pretends it doesn't matter to her, but she secretly yearns for that feeling of belonging. She sacrificed her teenagehood to make Suyin proud, and after all of that, despite everything Kuvira did, Suyin still doesn't consider her a daughter.
Opal is easily the most privileged of the five, being born into one of the wealthiest Earth Kingdom families does come with its perks, after all. But those grand metal domes of her home city that opened like flowers every morning were nothing more than gilded cages to her. Once it became obvious she wasn't a bender, her mother lost interest, happy to let her do as she pleased as long as she upheld the family image. It doesn't matter what hobby she chooses, nothing she achieves will be enough to rectify that her lack of bending brought an end to the rather short-lived Beifong dynasty of strong earthbending women. But she has to focus on something. Baatar shares their father's love for engineering, Huan has his art, the twins are total momma's boys with their metalbending games, Opal has nothing and no one. Somehow, even while distracted, her mother managed to keep her close enough that Opal could never meet someone without their first impression of her being through her mother's lens. She turned to books to cope with the loneliness, always dreaming of a life away from Zaofu. She's freshly 17 when she got it, but what started as a dream come true quickly turned into a nightmare once the northern air temple was attacked by the Red Lotus. Her childhood innocence and belief in the good of the world died somewhere within that cave.
My point is, the five of them deserve to act like teenagers, to gain back what they lost. Let Suiren rebel, let Midori make friends, let Bolin have fun, let Kuvira relax, let Opal express herself, LET THEM BE KIDS
And I just love to imagine what they'd get up to in that moment of peace. Maybe they gather together, a bit away from the RL, and play dumb games like Fuck Marry Kill. Playing with Kuvira is always a challenge because she knows exactly which buttons to push, which is how she got Suiren to say, through gritted teeth and lots of cursing, that she'd marry Mako, because the other two options were Suyin and Unalaq and she's a distinguished lesbian and not fucking a man thank you very much.
Maybe they go out in the early hours of the morning and climb to the top of the rocks hiding the cabin from view to watch the sun rise over Republic City. Maybe their games of truth or dare get so intense you wouldn't want to be caught in the middle of one. Maybe while on supply runs one of them sneaks some alcohol, and they proceed to nearly kill Bolin when he suggests playing spin the bottle. Maybe they go skinny dipping in the lake. Maybe they find secluded spots to practice and figure out how their bending all works together. Maybe they try to figure out ways to hide the hickeys Suiren leaves on Kuvira. Maybe they make fun of how Green Opal become blushy messes near each other. Maybe if preserving secrecy and anonymity wasn't such a big concern they'd sneak off to attend festivals in small surrounding towns. Maybe after long days they collapse and sleep in one big pile together. And maybe the RL know full well what the five of them are doing, but given that they're anarchists and naturally lax with rules, they decide to just let them do what they want, all the while reminiscing on everything they got up to as teenagers.
The five of them are in their early to mid twenties and about to become the third generation of the Red Lotus setting out to try and change the world, hopefully with more success than their predecessors. But maybe, before they do, they'll get to act like dumb, careless teenagers like they were always meant to, just one last time.
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samaraxmorgan · 1 month
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Your Roommate Sukuna
“That Time He Got Jealous Of His Twin Brother”
Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader
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Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!
Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, slight Yuuji x Reader but we all know who you’re really here for, Sukuna is down bad, narration is mostly from Sukuna’s POV
Word Count: 1.80k
Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist
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Sukuna is a fucking geinus.
His plan is full proof. His brothers put him in charge of buying the tickets for some stupid ass movie Yuuji wants to go see, and you always write your work schedule down on the calendar taped to the fridge. Sure, yeah, maybe he had to call out sick for today because this was the only day that Choso had work and you didn’t, but now he knows that his plan will fall perfectly into place. Yuuji is already at the apartment, you’ll come downstairs eventually, and Yuuji will invite you to come to the movie in Choso’s place, making it look like a total coincidence and definitely not something he’s been meticulously planning all week.
Could he have just, I don’t know, asked you to go on a date with him? Of course not, that’s fucking ridiculous. This makes so much more sense.
I mean, you absolutely loved The Human Centipede, definitely weren’t covering your eyes in terror and disgust when he showed it to you, so it’s a no brainer that you’ll just adore Human Earthworm. Hah! What a fuckin’ joke, you’ll be dragging Sukuna out of the theatre within five minutes and begging him to take you out somewhere else without his annoying twin brother.
It’s perfect.
Him and Yuuji are lounging on opposite ends of the couch while Yuuji is going on and on about an Elden Ring boss he can’t beat. Sukuna has his boots propped up on the coffee table and his arms resting behind his head as he half listens to his brother, and more so keeps an ear out for your footsteps upstairs.
“I was gonna try and beat her without summons but she’s kicking my ass, how many tries did it take you?”
“One.”
“Ugh!” Yuuji flops backwards on the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and shoving it over his face, his defeated whines muffled through the plush cotton, “She’s so impossible!”
Footsteps, finally. As you walk into the living room Yuuji uncovers his face, and you stop dead in your tracks, pointing at him, and then his brother, back and forth a few times before rubbing your eyes.
“Holy shit, there’s two of you?”
Oh yeah, I never mentioned my family huh?
Sukuna just gives you a smug smirk, “Three, but the emo one couldn’t make it.”
Yuuji perks up, jolting upright on the couch and giving you a bright smile, “Hi! I’m the normal one!”
You pull a chair out from the kitchen table, plopping yourself down into the wooden seat, “I think I’m gonna faint.”
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Sukuna is… a fucking idiot.
He knew his brother had a bubbly personality and could get along with literally anyone, but how was he supposed to know that you two would hit it off so well? Yuuji is pulling out all the stops, holding the door open for you, offering to pay for your popcorn, god it’s like he’s trying to get on Sukuna’s nerves.
Granted, it’s not like Sukuna told him that he likes you, but I mean for fucks sake that’s his twin brother! Shouldn’t he have some sort of sixth sense for this kind of thing?
That pink haired fucker has you wrapped around his little finger, you’re looking at him with googly eyes and cheesing like it’s fucking picture day. Ridiculous. Why don’t you ever smile like that for him? He’s funny!
I’m never letting him in the apartment again.
The three of you walk up to the top row of the nearly empty theater, Sukuna making sure to sit right between you and Yuuji. Previews are rolling on the screen as Sukuna is trying his damndest to hide the scowl on his face, his large arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the way the large screen reflects different colors into your eyes. He didn’t really think this far ahead, he’s got you next to him at the movies but… what now? He’s mentally kicking himself enough as it is for not considering his overly charismatic brother, and now he’s realizing that he doesn’t even know what his own intentions are.
Did he just want to take you somewhere? Is he trying to sleep with you? Does he want to be… romantic with you?
God, what has he become? He’s supposed to be the tough fucking scary guy and he’s not only getting shown up by his nerdy brother, but also getting nervous at the thought of making a move on you.
Yuuji flings popcorn in your direction, making you squeal out a giggle as it gently lands in your hair. Sukuna groans, hardly paying attention as he’s deep in thought, running his finger through your hair and flicking the popcorn away. He’s so consumed in his own head that he completely misses the blush that tints your cheeks at his tender touch.
Should I have even bothered with this? I feel like staying at the house would’ve been better at this point.
A piece of popcorn flies into his eye.
“Ugh,” This is so stupid, Sukuna rubs his eyelid with his thumb, “Watch it, brat.”
Yuuji tosses his hands up defensively and you giggle again, leaning over the armrest and placing your pointer finger on Sukuna’s cheek, tilting his face to turn towards you. Have your eyes always been that bright?
“Ooh, bullseye.” He can feel your breath fanning on his face, you’re so close, but just as abruptly as you leaned in, you lean back into your seat. God, he wants more than anything to tell you to come back, but the words wouldn’t be able to escape his lips if he tried. Unfortunately, all he manages to do is glare down at you and make you shift awkwardly under his gaze, mumbling out a quick apology.
Fuck. I think I scared them.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
From what you’ve been able to gather, this movie is weird. Is it horror or romance? You’ve been having trouble paying attention, far too distracted by Yuuji leaning over the very annoyed looking Sukuna to excitedly whisper tidbits about the movie to you. But every time you look over to Yuuji your eyes can’t help but wander to Sukuna’s profile, the flashing lights of the large screen illuminating his tattooed skin, his bottom lip tutting out to blow the loose strand of his pink hair resting on his brow out of his eyes-
Ah dammit, I’m doing it again.
You’re so confused. Sukuna has been giving you mixed signals all night, sweetly running his fingers through your hair one moment, then glowering at you like he wants you dead the next. He’s so unpredictable, and you’ve been so distracted by him all evening that you’ve hardly been able to pay any attention to poor Yuuji, giving him bright smiles and fake laughs while your mind is completely consumed with Sukuna.
He’s been so grumpy the entire evening, you’ve been feeling like he’s… disappointed? Is he mad his other brother couldn’t come? Is he mad that you took the emo one’s place? Would he rather somebody else have gone to the movie with him? It was Yuuji’s idea for you to tag along, so it’s safe to assume that if Sukuna wanted you here he would have just invited you, right?
But then every now and again his eyes flicker to you, watching. Why is he looking at you like that? With his gaze so uncharacteristically soft, scanning your face like he’s searching for something, from the corner of your eye you can catch him looking at your lips.
Is there something on my face?
You’re ripped from your thoughts as a blood curdling scream erupts from the speakers, making you jump in your seat. You catch the tiniest glimpse of a smirk creeping on the corner of Sukuna’s lips as he sits like a rock, completely unbothered as per usual. You gently kick his foot under the seat, and he presses his large boot onto the top of your sneaker, pinning your shoe under his and keeping your foot locked in place under the sole of his steel toe boot.
You cross your arms over your chest, letting out a frustrated huff at him that only makes his grin grow wider, his face still pointed towards the large screen as he flashes his canines at you. He props his elbow on the armrest between you, resting his chin on the ball of his palm as he peers down at you with a smug grin.
“You ready to get out of here yet?”
Cocky fucker, I swear he gets off on making me mad.
“No.” You snap back defensively.
Unbeknownst to you, his question was not rhetorical. But you’re in it now, determined to sit through this entire movie even if it kills you. You’re bothering him enough just by being here, the last thing you want to do is make him feel like he needs to leave.
His smirk shifts into a grimace as he taps his boot on top of your shoe. You slide your sneaker away but he loops his calf around yours and pulls your leg towards him, gently kicking your foot. If you didn’t know better you’d almost think he was… trying to play footsies with you? You’re not really sure what he’s trying to do, all you know is that he’s still leaning on the armrest between you and probably unintentionally pulling you closer by your leg.
Your arm brushes against his as you try to maneuver your elbow onto the armrest, quietly muttering to him “You’re hogging up all the space.”
He leans down slightly to whisper in your ear, “Tragic. Use the other one.”
You nudge his forearm with your elbow, “Just move your arm.”
He lets out a quiet “Tch” and raises his arm to rest over the back of your seat instead, “This better, brat?”
You nod your head as a blush creeps onto your cheeks, luckily hidden by the darkness in the room. When you relax back into your chair you can feel his arm pressing into the back of your neck and his fingers lightly graze against your shoulder. It feels… kinda comforting, you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to lean into his touch and your heart starts to pound at the thought.
You don’t dare to look at Sukuna, deciding to quietly enjoy the moment. Which is a real shame, because if you did look at him there’s a chance you’d catch the way he’s gnawing on his bottom lip with a face that looks almost as flustered as your own.
He might be enjoying this more than you are, and he might even be thinking that having to sit through this movie might not be so bad after all.
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A/N: POV you and Sukuna are two idiots who are into each other but neither of you have the balls to do something about it. Also writing Sukuna’s POV for the narration was SO FUN!!! We love our delusional king who sees you god forbid smile at another person and immediately assumes you’re in love with them Dividers by @adornedwithlight
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!
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katsukistofu · 3 months
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i a-door you
contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. cursing. food. minor unintentional violence. ⭑ bakugo hits on you. literally.
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You’re minding your business, book bag slung across your shoulder, and about to walk through the door to 2A’s classroom when something smacks you in the face.
Not only unprompted, but hard.
“Ow!”
It happens so quickly that you don’t remember squeezing your eyes shut as you stumble backwards, both hands flying to clutch your forehead.
Opening your eyes, you swear you can already feel the spot starting to bruise. The previously closed door to the classroom stood ajar and as the cherry on top of the concussion you just received, someone roughly brushes past you.
Fucking asshole.
You whip around, head still throbbing, about to give whoever it is a peace of your mind and finally speak above an inside voice for the first time since a robot almost fell on you during entrance exams semesters ago, when your teary eyes are met with crimson red ones.
He turns his head to give you a once over and your body freezes as his eyes linger a little longer on the darkening mark where the door got you. Something similar to amusement tugs at his lips.
“Pretty cute.”
You blink, dumbfounded as he casually turns on his heel to walk away.
What. The hell.
Did you literally just get hit on by Bakugo freaking Katsuki.
The identical dropped jaws of your classmates that were visible from inside the open doorway confirmed that what just happened was not in fact a post-traumatic induced hallucination, with Midoriya looking the most gobsmacked, his eyes almost comically bulging out of his skull, and upon glancing at Mina, who quickly gets over her initial shock to grin and shoot you a double thumbs up, she excitedly mouths ‘i told you so,’  and you’re not sure whether to laugh or to cry.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ
The next day, you’re sporting a fresh, new bandaid on your forehead. It was quite a fashion statement, if you do say so yourself.
It was also the last one at the nurse’s so you were pretty happy to nab it, apparently being the brand that everyone chose when they too got their respective boo-boos.
The latte Mina and the girls brought back from your favorite cafe sat on the wooden coffee table in the common area, still steaming. You refused to go out with a huge bruise marring your appearance, even with the bandaid covering the most of it, and you would take the fullest advantage of the injured person princess treatment while it lasted.
All while awkwardly avoiding a certain blond.
Now that you’re thinking about it, he’s honestly always been kind of nice to you, in his own weird way.
Like when you were forced to ask if you could borrow his eraser, because apparently no one else in the class carried one. Imagine saving Japan your first year of highschool and only writing in pen, even for calculus. Is this what the future generation has come to?
After breathlessly rushing the words out in a hushed voice and wondering if he heard you at all, Bakugo doesn’t even turn around from where he’s resting his chin on his hand listening to Present Mic’s enthusiastic lecture on subject-verb agreement, as he reaches an arm behind him to drop it on your desk.
You’re not sure if you remembered to say “your” before “eraser,” so all he probably heard was “can I borrow eraser?” and it still haunts you to this day.
Shaking the thoughts of him from your mind, you flip your history textbook open to page three hundred and ninety four, ‘A Comprehensive Timeline of Quirk Generations.’ You’re attempting to study for your next upcoming quiz in Midnight’s class.
Key word: attempting.
A delicious smell was starting to waft your way from the kitchen across the room, and now you were kind of hungry. You could feel your attention waning and shook your head, the image of your most recent report card filled with straight As sobering you up. Food could come later, right now you had to focus.
Just twenty more minutes of review, then I'll eat.
Bakugo’s placing the breakfast he easily finished whipping up on the counter. As he uses a spatula to gently coax the fluffy soufflé pancakes out of the pan, he notices the familiar petals of your favorite flower decorating the ceramic he’s putting them on.
It was from a tableware set he picked out when everyone first moved into the dorms. Glasses had assigned everyone groceries among various other things to go shopping for in small groups, and he was paired up with Ponytail to go buy plates.
They were browsing the shelves of a local Daiso store filled with colorful, adorably decorated dishes and rice bowls, when he stopped in front of a price tag, eyes dragging up to study the item it belonged to. The details on it were intricate, and breathtakingly so.
It reminded him of how he felt whenever he looked at you.
Ponytail follows his gaze, and her own eyes brighten.
“Oh, it’s decorated with the favorite flower of–!”
“I know.” He cuts her off, glaring at the floral box set of bowls and plates, before carefully putting it in their cart.
Momo’s eyes widen a bit, before a small, knowing smile spreads across her lips and Bakugo curses at her perceptiveness.
He almost wished he was paired up with that icy-hot bastard instead, who was so oblivious that if you dangled a confession letter in front of him he would have thought you wanted him to proofread it for you.
That was a while ago now, and everyone’s been happily eating meals on the plates they bought ever since.
He tops off the pancakes with a handful of fresh berries and a drizzle of honey, and slides it next to a steaming plate of a kimchi omelette with a zigzag of sriracha sauce already on the counter.
From where he stands, he snorts at your bandaid, noticing the obnoxious amount of Hello Kitty’s plastered all around it. Out of all the bandaids from Recovery Girl’s collection that she kept in her office, of course you would pick the cutest fucking one.
It was undoubtedly something you would like, he thinks, begrudging in his fondness. It was so you.
“Get your ass over here.”
You jump in your spot on the couch at the loud volume of his voice, though it sounded a bit softer than usual. With a finger pointing to yourself, you raise your head in confusion. “Me….?”
Was this about yesterday? Oh my god, was he mad?
You’re not sure why he would be, since he’s not the one that got bitch-slapped in the face by a giant door.
“I don't see anyone else I'd be talking to.” Bakugo scoffs.
He's right, to your increasing dread. The entire common area is completely empty, and you have no choice but to comply with his request.
You’re still nervously fiddling with the edge of your hoodie sleeve, the usual comfort of its softness abandoning you as you approach the kitchen to find him standing at a seat near the counter, arms folded. It hasn’t even been a minute in the same proximity as him and his presence is kind of overwhelming you already.
You’re trying so hard not to stare at his biceps. And just him in general.
“Sit.” he commands, the sound of the metal stool echoing against his hand as he pats it.
You obediently sit down, cursing your lack of a backbone. But his tone didn’t sound like he was planning to take no for an answer, anyway.
“Eat.”
He jabs a thumb at the plate of warm, sweet smelling cloud-like goodness in front of you. You stare at him, wide-eyed.
“This is for me?”
“Huh. You’re slower than I thought you were.” He rolls his eyes and starts to dig into his own plate of omelette in front of him, taking a seat on the stool across from you. It looked good too, as expected. “You’re welcome or whatever.”
With his aggressive blessing and after throwing a quiet but extremely grateful ‘thank you for the meal’ his way, you start to eat.
Your face lights up in joy as the divine taste of spongy goodness and honey spreads across your tongue, and you silently praise his mom for giving birth to the next Gordon Ramsay.
He flicks your forehead as you’re mid-bite in pancake and you yelp in surprise, raising your head to glare at his handsome face. What now? And did he have to be as infuriating as he was good-looking?
That crimson gaze once again stares you down, barely contained amusement dancing in embers of the hot coals of his eyes, and your skin grows warm as you realize you said that last part out loud.
You’re about to give into the urge to run away and take the plate of half-finished pancakes with you when he gruffly speaks up.
“You can’t retain information unless you have something in your stomach, idiot.”
You nod, mouth full, and make a mental note to study on an empty tummy away from him in the future. It’s like he reads your mind because you wince as he scowls, flicking your head again, although a little more gently this time.
Taking care to do it in a spot away from the bandaid covering the injury that he caused, your brain points out.
The both of you continue to eat in comfortable silence.
After a while, your plates are nearly clean.
You smile a little, realizing that you were eating on your favorite plate in the dorm’s kitchen the whole time, and admire the petals of your beloved flowers delicately painted in the center and outer edges of the stark white dish, with the pancakes no longer covering them.
Bakugo notices this, as you softly begin to trace the rim with your finger, and fights the twitch of his lips that threatened to curl upwards.
He’s also noticed those little glances you think you’ve been discreetly throwing his way between the bites of pancake, which you nearly inhaled to his pride.
You could almost be as quiet as that rock-faced animal whisperer of a classmate you both had, but you’ve always sucked at being subtle.
Good thing he hates subtle things.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks as you start to slide off the tall stool, a hint of smirk in his voice. It was cute, how you think you could run away from him so easily. You stop in your tracks, blinking at him as he rises from his own seat.
Strong, toned arms that you totally haven’t been staring at for the past half hour are slowly placed on both sides of you, caging you against the counter. An embarrassing noise escapes from your lips, and the cold granite bites into your back as you lean away, doing anything to avoid his gaze.
“Look at me.”
He rolls his eyes as you continue to look to the side, suddenly finding the chibi magnets of various high ranking heroes on the fridge to be very interesting.
“I said,” he grabs your chin in his hand, which was so big compared to your face that he could squish your cheeks between his ring finger and thumb, “look at me.
You huff, now forcefully held in place to face him against your will. “I’m looking.”
“Good.”
He leans down and his lips graze your ear, seeming to take great pleasure in only further adding to your embarrassment when he mutters:
“And don’t stand so fucking close to the door next time.”
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not bakugo pulling the classic asian parent move and giving u food instead of a proper apology LOLL
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justrustandstardust · 7 months
Text
*✧:*one, two, three (it's not only you and me)*:・✧*:
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@ryuqzn on X
"what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," the white-haired man says, gaze flickering down your body. he looks back up, making eye contact.
"but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, blue eyes piercing.
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after you get stood up, you're ready to cut your losses and head home. when a couple approaches you at the bar with a proposition, you just might end up changing your mind.
MDNI: i'm not joking, this is utter filth and minors should steer clear of it like they're teenage boys and this is a decent haircut.
pairing: geto/gojo/you
a/n: this is for someone special. you know who you are.
important: afab reader, she/her pronouns
word count: 16k (i know, i fucking know)
because i'm clinically insane, i've created a playlist to enchance your listening ~pleasure. here's the spotify version, and here's the youtube version. this is purely for the girls, gays and theys. i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it. (͡ ͡° ͜ つ ͡͡°)
the clock's just struck nine, and you sigh, glancing down at your phone for the umpteenth time that evening. you suppose it's your fault for having such shit taste in men, anyways, for agreeing to meet a loser that didn't even bother to show.
swirling the straw around your drink, you kick your legs out from your seat on the barstool and ponder whether or not to ask the bartender for another. this is already your third drink; you're no lightweight but even you aren't impervious to the effects of three whiskey neats.
sighing again, you decide to cut your losses and call it a night. fuck men, you think distastefully, reaching into your bag for your wallet. literally and figuratively. you got all dressed up for some asshole that couldn't even bother to take you to bed tonight.
you're rooting around in your purse for your wallet when there’s a sudden tap on your shoulder. you glance up, and are met with the faces of possibly the two most beautiful men you've ever seen before in your life. they tower over you, and though you're sitting, you know that even if you stood up they'd easily have several inches on you. the dark-haired man is sporting a half-up half-down hairstyle, the contours of his chest and broad shoulders barely hidden by a fitted dress shirt and leather jacket.
you glance at the other man, who's light-haired and blue-eyed. his waist is so impossibly small in his dress shirt that you almost reach out to wrap your hands around it, just to see if they could fit. they're looking at you like they're seeing through you, and you blink, heady from both the alcohol and weight of their gaze.
"sorry to interrupt, but are you heading out?" the dark-haired man asks politely, leaning forward slightly. you nod slowly, unsure of what he's going to say next.
he chuckles, ducking his head. "ah, that's too bad. my partner and i were wondering if you'd like to come out with us tonight."
"come out?" you say, raising an eyebrow. the white-haired man rolls his eyes, pushing at the dark-haired man's arm.
"what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," he says, making direct eye contact with you.
"but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, gaze unwavering. your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you glance between them, watching as the dark-haired man —suguru?— pushes back, swatting the white-haired man on the shoulder.
"you'll have to forgive satoru, he's a bit upfront. but yes, we would love to get to know you better, if you're interested," he says purposefully, dark eyes meeting yours.
"no pressure, of course. we'd be just as happy to call you a taxi to make sure you get home safe and leave it at that," he adds, nodding at the door. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and you glance between them, at the cocksure expression on the white-haired man's face and the carefully open one on his partner's.
"can i know your names?" you manage, and the dark-haired man smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners.
"you can call me geto. this is gojo," he says, gesturing to the white-haired man, who boisterously sticks out his tongue and flashes a peace sign.
you tell them your name in return and geto smiles again, glancing at gojo.
"that's a beautiful name. we'd be happy to do whatever you'd like to do tonight— it's totally up to you. we'll be happy with any choice you make, even if that means our acquaintanceship ends here," geto says kindly but meaningfully, looking into your eyes so you know he's serious. gojo nods beside him, and then smirks.
"wherever you're headed won't be nearly as exciting as us, though," he intones liltingly, brow raised in challenge. geto smacks him upside the head and he winces, pouting at the abuse.
"satoru is just joking," geto says, glancing sharply at gojo. "we are completely okay with whatever you want to do. we just want to make our interest in you very, very clear."
you haven't moved for the entirety of this interaction. you glance between them again, at these two heaven-sent men on a night you were basically begging to be dicked down only to be disappointed by the universe (read: a random loser whose name you can't even remember). swallowing hard, you think that you made your choice as soon as the words left geto's lips.
"i'll come with you," is what finally comes out of your mouth, throat dry. geto's lips quirk upwards and gojo grins, extending a hand to help you down from the barstool.
"just let me pay for these drinks first," you say, going for your purse. geto shakes his head and steps forward, catching your wrist in one hand and guiding it away from your bag.
"i don't think so," he says simply, releasing your wrist and reaching into his back pocket. he throws way too many bills onto the counter and you're trying not to gape as gojo snickers, urging you to take his hand. his palm is warm to the touch as he helps you down from the barstool, geto bringing up the rear with a featherlight touch to the small of your back.
you were right. even with heels, they tower over you. flanked on either side, they walk you to the door, geto pushing it open and gesturing for you to go through. as you pass him, you catch a whiff of versace's eau fraiche, the distinct notes of rosewood filtering through your nostrils. gojo follows behind you, tapping on his phone.
it's cold, and you didn't bring a jacket. you're trying to appear like you're not shivering but geto notices anyways, shrugging off his own leather jacket to drape around your shoulders. gojo steps away, raising his phone to his ear.
"where are we going?" you ask, geto's cologne enveloping you along with his residual body heat. geto glances at gojo, who's speaking quietly to someone on the phone.
"somewhere private," he says, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. he looks at you, something darkening in his gaze. "somewhere no one will disturb us."
gojo hangs up the phone, stepping off the curb into the street. seconds later, a sleek black SUV pulls up, windows tinted. gojo goes around the other side and geto opens the door for you, holding out a hand to help you inside. it's easily the most expensive car you've ever been in, the seats plush and the interior unbelievably spacious. there are four seats facing each other, the front of the car partitioned so the driver isn't visible. gojo takes the seat opposite you, kicking up his feet and folding his hands behind his head.
geto sits down beside you, reaching into a small compartment that evaded your notice to produce a chilled bottle of water.
"so you can sober up," he explains, unscrewing the cap. "we don't want you intoxicated for what's coming next."
"what's coming next?" you parrot, taking the water. gojo snickers again, pulling a lollipop out from god knows where and popping it between his teeth. he sucks, cheeks hollowing around the candy, eyes never leaving yours.
"we're down to do whatever you want to do," geto says, turning to face you. his features are open, honest. "we just need to know what's on the table."
"everything," you reply too quickly, answer coming out instantly. geto chuckles good-naturedly, gesturing to the water.
"then you'll have to get started on that."
you've never chugged water so hastily in your life. the drive is short, ten minutes at best, and the three of you sit in comfortable silence, tempered by the sounds of smooth rnb filtering through the car's speakers. the car pulls up beside a skyscraper, endlessly tall against the city skies. gojo takes the empty bottle from your hand and carelessly tosses it aside, stepping outside and taking your hand in his to help you out of the car. geto goes around the other way, nodding at the driver as the car rolls away from the curb.
the building is locked, and you watch as gojo pulls out a black card, flashing it in front of a sensor. the doors part to reveal an immaculate marble lobby, scaffolded by floor-to-ceiling windows that are at least three stories high. building staff are positioned discreetly behind tall counters, none of whom pay gojo and geto any mind as the three of you make their way through to the elevators. your heels are clacking on the polished floor, geto's jacket snug around your shoulders.
there are eight elevators, but only one with a sensor. gojo flashes his card again, the elevator doors sliding open. geto holds the door for you as you step inside, taking gojo's proffered arm. he presses the only button on the wall —labelled PH— as geto follows you inside, the doors closing behind him. you're still holding onto gojo's arm as the elevator rises, and rises, and rises. it moves silently, the only sound the clack of the lollipop against gojo's teeth. it's been at least two full minutes and you're starting to wonder if you're genuinely in the stratosphere when there's a quiet ping and the elevator slows to a stop.
geto steps out, motioning at you to go ahead. gojo leads you down the hall to what appears to be the only suite on the entire floor. expecting the black card again, you're surprised when he presses his palm to a large, flat pad, which scans his hand and flashes green. the door clicks open and gojo heads inside, geto once again bringing up the rear.
you're confronted by the most stunning residence you've ever seen. the architecture is open-concept, with two stories connected by a spiral staircase. the same floor-to-ceiling windows from the lobby showcase the glittering city skyline, lights twinkling just below the clouds. everywhere you look, there's sleek leather and white marble, outfitted with tasteful minimal decor and modern art.
"where am i?" is all you're able to say, struggling to pick your jaw up from the floor. gojo laughs, sliding his jacket off and tossing it onto a chaise in the living room.
"don't worry about it," he winks, pulling the lollipop from between his lips and ignoring geto's subsequent eyerolling. "life is better when you get it to live it in 3D."
"he's a nepo baby," geto interjects, going around the kitchen island and opening two massive fridge doors. "and he's insufferable, so being rich makes him easier to deal with."
gojo huffs indignantly, tossing the lollipop in something discreetly disguised as a garbage.
geto rummages around in the fridge, taking out the most expensive-looking sandwich you've ever seen. "hungry?"
you shake your head, and geto looks at you, imploring. "i know you had the water, but you're going to need....energy, for what we have planned."
choice made. placing your purse down on the island, you make your way over to where he's standing, taking the baguette. hopping onto a stool, you take a bite, eyebrows shooting up your forehead at the rich flavours. brie, prosciutto, fig jam.....the list continues.
geto glances at gojo, who's now only wearing his slacks, dress shirt and tie. "satoru, you can start getting the room ready. i'll bring her when she's done."
you’re mildly surprised when gojo makes an affirmative noise and leaves without snark, setting off to one of the many rooms in the suite. after he disappears from sight, geto turns back to you.
"this is the part where i ask how you like it," he says, leaning his elbows onto the kitchen island. you swallow, fig jam tangy on your tongue.
"like i said," you meet his gaze, holding steady. "i like all of it."
geto smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. "both ends?"
"every single one," you say purposefully, never breaking eye contact.
he chuckles, nodding to himself. "we're clean, by the way."
"as am i," you confirm, popping the last bite of sandwich into your mouth. "on birth control, too," you add, after chewing.
"good to know," geto remarks, pushing himself off his elbows. he helps you down from the stool, taking his jacket from your shoulders and setting it down on the counter. fingertips dancing along the small of your back, he guides you down the same direction gojo went earlier, stopping in front of a large door.
"last chance to change your mind," he says, voice low. he's looking at you openly, honestly. "there won't be any hard feelings either way."
you've never been so sure of anything in your life. "i want this," you breathe, suffocated by the truth of that statement. "i want both of you."
geto exhales, slow smile gracing his features. wordlessly, he opens the door, gesturing for you to go ahead. the room is dimly lit by cool-toned floorlights, but you can make out the shape of a bed in the centre, warmed by a fireplace at its opposite. the same floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the city skyline, creating a glittering effect along the room’s walls. you squint at the far-off section of the room with tiled floor, following the tile into a bathroom that houses a massive, glass doored rainfall shower, alongside an enormous claw-foot tub.
gojo is standing in front of the bed, lanky stature backlit by the cityscape outside. he's still wearing his shirt, slacks and tie, sans his shoes. the door clicks shut behind you, and you sense more than see geto take a step towards you, breath ghosting along the nape of your neck.
deafening silence engulfs the room as every single one of your hairs stand on end, the energy in the space charged. gojo hasn't moved and neither has geto, both standing stock still in the silence like they're waiting for you to make the first move.
you let out a shuddering exhale and that's all geto needs, his hand wrapping around your jaw as his mouth attaches itself to your neck. he sucks harshly, hungrily, as his other hand grips your waist from behind, pressing the entire length of his body against yours. gojo is in front of you in an instant and you don't waste a second, yanking him forward by the tie to crash your lips together.
the artificial flavour of the lollipop is sweet on his tongue as he kisses you with intention, hand slipping down to hike your leg around his waist. geto's tongue is working against your neck at the same time, the sensation of two hot mouths overwhelming. gojo sucks your lower lip into his mouth as geto bites the juncture of your neck, eliciting a whine into gojo's teeth.
heat is pooling between your legs and you can feel that they're both hard already, gojo pressed into your front and geto against your back. geto suddenly releases your jaw, taking a step back as gojo lifts you up, settling your other leg around his waist. he's still making out with you as your arms wrap around his shoulders and he walks you both to the bed, carrying you like it's effortless. he sets you down onto the bed, breaking away once you're laid flat on its smooth surface.
you make to grab his tie again and he snatches your wrist in one hand, smirking.
"eager, are we?"
"a bitch, are you?" you snipe, enjoying the way his eyes flash with amusement. he pins your wrist above your head, dipping his head down so that your noses are brushing.
"if you want something, you'll have to ask it for it," he says lowly, gaze flickering down to your mouth. "nicely."
"make me," you retort breathlessly, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. he kisses you back just as hard, broad shoulders caging you in as your hand twists uselessly in his grip.
he breaks away, releasing your wrist. geto reappears, shirtless and wearing only his black jeans. you barely have time to appreciate the muscled planes of his chest and the toned flesh of his abs as he grabs the back of gojo's head, messily bringing their mouths together.
gojo moans against his lips, palms coming up to press at his chest. without breaking apart, geto rips his shirt, buttons flying everywhere as fabric tears. somehow, the tie remains.
gojo shoves him away, stepping backwards to frown at what used to be his shirt. "that was expensive, you know."
"you can buy a dozen more," geto says mildly, turning back to you. you're transfixed, staring at gojo's bare chest that is just as defined as geto's, at the dip of his collarbones and the defined ridges of his abdomen.
gojo makes a face at his ruined shirt and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with geto.
"you're wearing far too many clothes," says geto, a shadow passing over his features. you swallow, shrinking into the bed as something that's not quite fear passes over you— more like an impending sense that something is coming.
geto climbs onto the bed, getting all up into your space immediately. claiming your mouth with his own, he kisses you like he fucking owns you, subsuming every thought in your mind to the point that you don't even notice him unzipping your dress.
he removes your clothes with a care that he didn't use in taking off gojo's, gently tossing your dress aside when you're down to your bra and panties. you're staring up at him as he leans down into you, warm hand resting on your hip.
gojo reappears with a remote in his hand, and you hear a click followed by the same smooth rnb from the car. there must be speakers threaded into the walls because the sound feels like it's coming from everywhere, weaving together the neurons in your brain that have been fried by sensation.
"is this okay?" geto's voice is soft but his eyes are piercing as he lifts you up towards him, palms supporting your back. you nod haltingly, heat flooding your veins as he inclines his head to kiss you again. without stopping, he deftly unclasps your bra one-handed, throwing it against the wall without looking. all of a sudden, he pulls away, standing up and moving to the foot of the bed.
gojo swaps places with him, coming up to your torso. you raise an eyebrow in question and geto smiles knowingly, climbing onto the bed and settling in front of your legs.
"satoru and i have different areas of speciality, you could say." gojo's smirk is back on his face as he takes in the sight of your naked chest, watching the flush that you're fighting spread down your clavicle.
"don't be shy, now," he teases, ignoring your death glare. you're about to retort but the air suddenly leaves your lungs in a whoosh as gojo bends forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. his soft hands cup your breasts, massaging firmly as his tongue flickers against the hardening bud.
you let out a shaky exhale, toes curling as one of your hands comes up to rest in his hair. the sensation is so intense that you almost don't notice geto sliding your panties down your legs until you feel the cool air against your damp lips.
gojo continues his ministrations, sucking your nipple into his mouth and tonguing it hard, nipping when you let out a low groan. geto spreads your legs and settles between them, kneeling on the bed. dark head bent, he drops lingering kisses up your legs, all the way from your calves up to your inner thighs. his lips are warm on your skin and you're absolutely throbbing, aching for it as he gets closer to your burning core.
gojo has switched to your other breast and geto is pressing butterfly kisses to the soft flesh of the inside of your thighs, sucking tender hickeys into the thin skin. the sensations are too much and not enough all at once, overwhelming your senses but not quite satisfying the ache inside you for more.
geto's mouth is everywhere except where you want it most— he's at the crease of your thigh, at the seam of your hip, the bump of your pubic bone. his breath ghosts over your slick lips, a sly smile lifting the corner of his mouth when you buck up, chasing. as gently as a butterfly beats its wings, he circles your clit with the pad of a fingertip, not quite touching it in the way he knows you want him to. you can’t hold back the whine that escapes your mouth, and geto’s lips quirk, his expression amused. his hands are warm on your hips and it feels like coming home when his lips finally meet yours, lapping up the slickness in your folds like a man parched.
gojo has released your nipples and he's positioned himself behind you to prop your upper body up, nibbling on your earlobes with his palms still cupping your breasts. geto's dark head is buried between your legs and he's eating you out like he was fucking born for it, alternating between dipping his tongue inside of you and sealing his lips around your clit. sucking down rasping breaths, you see stars when his mouth forms a vacuum around your clit and he sucks hard , your thighs clamping around his head as your hand fists in his hair.
geto hasn't stopped, arms beneath your thighs to hold your hips down as he pushes his tongue deeper inside your sopping centre. a choked-off moan falls from your lips and gojo snickers into the skin of your neck, his naked chest and the fabric of the tie pressed into your spine.
"you're enjoying dessert, aren't you, suguru?" gojo's voice is lilting and you would retort but you can't, too busy gasping for air as geto just hums in agreement, relentlessly tonguing your clit.
gojo begins leaving lovebites all around your shoulders and you can feel his fingers twisting and pinching your nipples, the sensation heightened by geto feasting between your legs. you're so wet that his chin is glistening with it, a few strands of his dark hair slipping out and falling into his face as he eats you out with vigour, the tendons in his jaw tensing from effort.
“oh god, don’t stop,” you cry out, fists clenched in the sheets. gojo chuckles behind you, tweaking a nipple and laughing when you spasm. 
“did you hear that, suguru? i think you’re gonna have to step it up.” 
without taking his mouth off your clit, his long fingers slide so smoothly inside of you that they may as well have been there all along. pumping shallowly, he continues to suck on your clit, pulsing his lips and flicking his tongue around the most sensitive part of you.
you keen, high and loud, and geto doesn't need words to understand, pressing a final kiss to your clit and leaning back to thrust his hand properly. he crooks his fingers, searching, and you cry out when he hits your spot, toes curling so hard it hurts. 
"right there, huh?" geto murmurs knowingly, fingering you ruthlessly. you ride the high, sparks bursting behind your eyelids. the solid warmth from behind you suddenly disappears as gojo lowers you onto the bed, and you crack an eye open just in time to see him grin devilishly and press his fingers down onto your mound, right above where geto's hand is inside of you.
the combination of inner and outer pressure is too much and you mewl, legs jerking as your walls contract and a sensation you've never felt before washes over you, almost like your body is releasing a gush of liquid.
"we got her to squirt," gojo declares smugly, continuing to press down as geto works you through your orgasm. you're arching off the bed, sheets clenched in your hands as wave after wave of pleasure crashes down upon you, an infinite tsunami upon a helpless shore.
after what feels like forever, you slump back down, chest heaving. geto gently withdraws his hand from between your legs and licks his fingers while gojo lifts his hand to release the pressure from your pelvis. you lift your head up to see gojo standing at the foot of the bed, palming the front of his pants, face scrunched up in want. geto looks to be faring no better as he gets up to stand beside gojo, bulge straining against his jeans.
"i think it's time we got these off," geto says, unzipping his pants. gojo shucks off his slacks in one go, ripping off the tie that somehow remained around his neck throughout all of this. suddenly they're both down to their underwear, black boxers tented.
they glance at you and then back at each other before gojo drops to his knees on the floor, pulling geto's boxers down with him. you watch, spent, as gojo takes geto into his mouth, swallowing around him and fondling his sack. geto tips his head back and rakes a hand through gojo’s hair, peering down at his head bobbing on his length. you're enjoying the show as geto thrusts shallowly into his mouth, his abs flexing with the motion.
gojo’s adam’s apple is bobbing as his throat works, and he keeps going until geto's breathing grows laboured, only stopping when geto gestures with his chin toward you on the bed. gojo releases him with a lewd pop and barely has a second to collect himself before geto's pushing him onto his back, stripping off his underwear and taking him down into his throat in one go. you watch, amazed, at what appears to be geto's total lack of a gag reflex.
"throat goat," gojo remarks fondly, reaching down to thread his hand through geto's dark hair. geto slaps his thigh and gojo chuckles, breaking off to groan when geto urges him on, pushing his ass forward to get him to fuck his throat.
you're still recovering from your climax when geto releases gojo from his mouth, wiping at the saliva around his lips. gojo glances at you, grinning as he pushes himself up onto his palms.
"want a turn?" he asks impishly, gesturing at geto, who stands up. you raise yourself into a sitting position up by the elbows and regard the two men in front of you and their well-endowed assets. gojo is longer but slightly thinner, like a water bottle. geto is girthier and thicker, like a beercan. you'll happily take both.
"i think she's got another orgasm in her, don't you?" geto climbs onto the bed and tugs you onto your hands and knees, gojo going behind you. "why don't you see what you can do about that, satoru."
you're gazing hungrily at the girthy length of geto, veiny and uncut up close. he's still glistening with gojo's saliva as you lick the tip, geto's palm coming to rest on your head. you're taking him down inch by inch as you feel gojo settle behind you, shivering as he trails a finger through the wetness gathered at your lips.
one hand gripping your hip, he lines himself up and pushes inside your wet heat until he's flush against your ass, forcing all the air out of your lungs. in the same instant, you reach the base of geto's length, full at both ends. you moan around him as gojo begins to thrust in earnest, the sound of skin slapping skin reverberating around the room as he fucks you relentlessly.
"shit," gojo says lowly, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "you're taking me like a champ."
geto's eyes are closed, his palm resting on your hair. you pull back, flattening your tongue beneath the head while your hand jacks off whatever your mouth can't reach. gojo changes angles and you can suddenly feel him in your chest, his tip so deeply inside of you that it's kissing your cervix.
you pick up the pace, tonguing the slit, and geto is openly groaning, gripping your hair hard enough that it hurts. you don't mind it— you encourage it, in fact, while gojo's fucking you hard enough that your walls will surely remember his shape. every time he brings you back onto his length, heady pleasure shoots through your veins, your toes tingling hotly. you can already feel another orgasm coming as gojo reaches a hand between your legs, searching for your clit. he twists his fingers evilly, not letting up when you let out a muffled moan around geto's girth.
"i think she likes it," gojo says, smirk audible in his voice. he rubs in tight, deliberate circles, his hand quickening as you stop sucking and just breathe, eyes rolling back in your head when he snaps his hips and simultaneously hits your spot.
you hear him laugh breathlessly, thrusts hindered somewhat as your walls spasm around him, his pace slowing as you come for the second time. he fucks you through it, pulling out when it becomes too much. gojo smacks your ass, laughing at the surprised yelp that exits your mouth.
"couldn't resist, princess," he winks at you, coming around to the front of the bed. again, they swap positions and geto moves to the back, warm hands settling around your waist. he brings you backwards onto him, your shoulder blades against his chest. he's warm, so warm, and you melt into his arms. he presses soft kisses into your neck, humming when you sigh contentedly and tip your head onto his shoulder.
"aren't you glad you had that sandwich?" he murmurs into your skin, hands roving all over your pliant body. the sound of a cap opening interrupts your reply, which was just going to be an mmhm-hmm anyways. you blink, watching gojo squeeze lube onto his fingers and stroke geto between your legs, whose eyelids flutter closed at the sensation.
after a few moments, gojo releases geto, who then lifts you up like you weigh nothing, settling you above him on your knees, one braced on either side of his hips. your back is still to his chest, and you turn your head to meet his gaze, cocking your head in question.
"lube?" you say, watching geto chuckle. he smooths a hand down your side, soothing.
"i know you don't have any problems getting wet," he smiles, gaze flickering down your body between your legs. he looks up, eyes dark. "but we can't have you feeling raw just yet."
your heart jumps in your chest when a hand grabs your chin, turning your head to face the front. you're met with the full mast of gojo, who's up on his knees in front of you, his shins pressing into the bed. it happens all at once and geto is lowering you down as you swallow around gojo, the taste of precome heady on your tongue. you sink down onto geto for what feels like forever, his tip reaching towards your ribs.  
if gojo fucked you relentlessly, geto fucks you like god himself commanded him, a divine task ordained straight from the heavens above. he bounces you up and down, pushing his hips up to meet yours on every thrust. your palms are braced on gojo's thighs and you can barely breathe around him, glancing up to see his eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he wantonly pumps his hips into your mouth, sliding his length along your tongue.
geto's hands are vicelike around your waist, his hot, hard length stretching your walls every time he brings you down onto his hips. they're working in tandem, each fucking a pair of your lips, and it’s so fucking good that you could cry. you’re absolutely stuffed at both ends, hot pleasure emanating from your core to spread throughout your body every time geto pushes back into you. another orgasm is cresting on the horizon as he picks up the pace, jackrabbiting his hips as he lifts you up impossibly higher, the bed creaking from the combined force of their movements.
"god, you're tight," geto grunts, punctuated by the sound of his balls slapping your ass. "so tight, just for me."
you're so close, you're so fucking close, and you've stopped sucking entirely as geto fucks you harder, your breasts bouncing in time with the motion. gojo suddenly pulls out from your mouth and you don't have time to react before he drops into a kneeling position and grasps your jaw in his hand, bringing your lips to meet his own. gojo slides his tongue inside your mouth, his hand moving up from your jaw to hold your head as his tongue caresses yours.
you moan into his mouth, arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you pull him flush to your chest while geto continues to fuck you, bliss radiating outward from where you’re joined. your nipples are pebbled against the smooth planes of gojo's clavicle and he deepens the kiss, fingers weaving into your hair as his other hand slips down to dance along your overly sensitive clit.
geto tilts his hips and floods every sense in your body with white-hot ecstasy as he rails your spot, the curve of gojo’s smirk sharp against your mouth while his fingertips stroke your clit. you drench the bed for the second time that night as you come, back arching in geto's grip as gojo's fingertips tease the lips stretched around geto's girth, still pistoning in and out of you.
"nice, we got a second squirt," gojo crows, eyes crinkling in mirth as he draws back. he raises his hand for a high-five and you don't have to look to know geto is rolling his eyes as he slaps gojo's hand. geto slowly brings you down to lean onto him, his chest rising and falling from exertion. he's still buried inside of you and you can barely think through the haze in your mind, sagging limply into his arms. geto supports your weight, whispering quietly into your hair as you come down.
"that's it, just like that." his voice is gentle, unlike the way he was moving inside of you moments ago. he twines his arms around your waist as you both catch your breath, the broad muscle of his chest firm against your back. your eyes are closed and your entire body is relaxed, held up by geto's sturdy frame.
"you guys didn't come," you manage to say, voice thick. you feel geto's chest rumble as he laughs, low and deep in your ear.
"that's very kind of you to be concerned," he says, soft smile audible in his voice. "but it's all good. we like to draw things out."
you feel the bed dip as gojo climbs back on, the click of a bottle cap echoing in the quiet of the room.
"we're going to give you a bit of a break," gojo tells you, voice teasing. "you can relax and enjoy the show."
you blink blearily, limbs liquified as geto lifts you off and carefully sets you to his side, wrapping an arm around you as you curl up beside him. you watch while gojo lubes him up again, twisting his wrist knowingly when he meets the head. gojo glances up and they share a private moment, conversing without words. you're content to watch as an intimate smile graces geto's features and gojo leans forward to peck him on the lips, still stroking all the while.
geto withdraws his arm from around you, sitting up to settle gojo on top of his thighs. he spreads gojo's legs over his own, their faces close enough to share the same breath. the lube reappears and gojo leans his weight onto his palm, watching as geto squeezes some over his fingers. they're in an incredibly intimate position, almost lotus-like, legs folded together and gojo's other hand braced on geto's shoulder.
geto slides the first finger inside of gojo with so much confidence that it's obvious they've done this a thousand times before. gojo's spine arches and he exhales hard, eyelids fluttering shut as geto starts stretching him out. geto's dark eyes are trained on his disappearing finger, and you can see gojo's hand tensing around his shoulders. gojo's shaky breaths echo around the room when geto adds another finger, thrusting with more urgency. there's a squelching sound every time his hand meets gojo's ass, and you watch in awe as gojo takes it like he was fucking born for nothing else.
they're both hard as hell, and you're starting to wonder if it's getting painful. you don't have time to contemplate this thought for long before geto's up to three fingers and he changes the angle of his hand, gojo's body jerking violently as geto deliberately hits his spot. geto cranes his neck to suckle at gojo’s nipple, smirking into his chest when he mewls. he squeezes gojo's ass with his free hand and continues pressing his spot as gojo spasms, his lips parted in a soundless moan.
geto carefully withdraws his hand, kissing gojo softly on the lips before taking his wrists and pulling him up onto his knees. geto climbs off the bed, going to stand behind gojo. his eyes flicker over to you and you meet his gaze, cloudy with want. geto doesn't look away as he pushes himself inside of gojo, his arms wrapping around gojo's torso to tug him up against his chest. he starts thrusting carefully, letting gojo adjust to the feeling of his full length inside of him.
you can feel yourself getting wet again as geto finally closes his eyes, pressing his mouth to gojo's neck as he pulls out slowly, bringing his hips forward again. you're brimming with hunger as you watch their bodies move together, geto's one hand wrapped around gojo's throat and the other pressed flat to his chest, holding him upright. gojo is making low noises, quiet ungh-ungh-unghs as geto fills him up, again and again.
"who do you belong to?" geto grunts into his neck, hand tightening around his throat, gojo’s adam’s apple protruding between his fingers.
gojo breathes out a shuddering exhale, his knees and shins pressed into the mattress. his entire weight is leaned onto geto, who's somehow supporting him and fucking him simultaneously.
gojo bites his lip, furrowing his brow. you can see the muscles of geto's ass flexing as he plunges into gojo, not letting up for even a second.
"well," gojo rasps, sounding like he's going for contemplative but ending up wanton instead. "you'll just have to ask george clooney."
geto’s balls slap gojo's ass when he delivers a particularly punishing thrust, pushing all the air out of gojo in a loud huff.
"are you sure about that?" geto sounds remarkably composed for a man who's inside another man's ass.
gojo is only able to make a noise of affirmation in response, a strained uh-huh through his teeth. his giggle is breathless when geto releases his throat to slap his cheek, the thwack loud in the quiet.
"why don't you try again," geto's voice is rough and he changes angles, finding exactly what he's searching for when gojo's body jackknifes into his chest.
"fine, you got me,” gojo moans, throwing his head back onto geto's shoulder. "tell george that i'm —ah!— cheating on him with matt damon.”
this was clearly not the answer geto was looking for. he quickens his pace, slamming his hips hard enough into gojo’s ass to bruise. reaching a hand around to wrap around gojo’s length, his fist is a blur as he strokes in time with his thrusts.
“who do you belong to?” geto says again, strained but still pointed, leaving no room for argument. gojo’s body is strung taut, every muscle tensed with his mouth open and face pinched tight as the bed shakes.
you can only stare as the veins pop out of gojo's neck, abs contracting with his back arched against geto's chest. "i h— i heard idris elba is free— agh!"
geto releases him and pulls out in the same second, taking a full step backwards. gojo lets out a sound that sounds like a sob, body folding in half at the sudden, overwhelming emptiness.
geto continues to stand there, unmoving and unflinching. he's hard as a rock but he looks like he could wait forever as gojo curls in on himself, distraught by the lack of sensation.
gojo whimpers brokenly and brings a hand to his mouth to stifle the sound, his body visibly aching with need. "you," he sobs, on the verge of tears when it finally comes out. "only you. always you."
geto nods, just once, and the relief on gojo's face is palpable when geto yanks him upright and pushes back inside of him in one snap of his hips. geto's rhythm is harsh as he takes gojo again in his other hand, squeezing from root to tip. geto swipes his thumb over the head and gojo makes a choked-off noise, turning his head over his shoulder to tangle their tongues together.
"brat," geto says into his mouth, to which gojo can only whine in agreement.
they're both breathing heavily and it's the hottest thing you've ever fucking seen, the pleasure visible on both of their faces. gojo is biting his lip, eyes scrunched shut, and sweat is beading at geto's temple as he moves, his brows creased. gojo's mouth falls open and he keens, high and loud, body rocking into geto's as they have sex in front of you.
you just met him a few hours ago but you can tell gojo is close, his breaths growing ragged and moans increasing in pitch as he nears climax. right before the event horizon, geto lets go of gojo, stilling his movements but remaining inside of him. gojo lets out an aggravated groan and cracks an eye open, turning his head to look at you.
"this is where you come in, princess," he manages, speech almost slurred. "come here."
he doesn't have to tell you twice. scampering over, you comply when gojo motions for you to turn around. his grip is tight on your ass when he brings your hips back, the hard length of him pressing into the wetness pooled between your legs. he slips inside of your tight heat effortlessly, filling you to the hilt as geto starts fucking him again. gojo is stretching you out and you love the feeling of being so damn full, head hanging low and breasts swaying with the motion as geto fucks gojo and gojo fucks you.
the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you're seeing stars as gojo makes high-pitched sounds, geto's panting filling up the spaces in between his whimpers. it's quite possibly the most erotic thing you've ever experienced, having one man inside of you while another man is inside of him. you can't help but wonder how it feels for gojo, filling up one person with someone else filling him up simultaneously.
they're moving in time with each other, and you hear gojo's breathing become frantic as he gasps. the force of geto's thrusts are pushing him forwards into you, nudging his head repeatedly into your cervix. gojo's palms are hot on your hips, and you feel more than see his body tense up as he approaches orgasm. a loud gasp is pushed out of his chest when geto reaches around to pinch his nipples. 
gojo chokes on air, rutting forward into you and pushing himself back onto geto in the same moment. he sounds wrecked with sensation as geto doesn't stop for a second, pounding into him while you clench and milk him for all he's worth.
"fuck, suguru, i'm gonna— fuck, i'm coming," gojo cries, spilling deep inside of you. geto fucks him through it, pushing gojo's load deeper inside of you as he keeps coming. gojo has stopped moving and just rides out his climax, grip loosening around your hips. geto's forcing him forwards into you over and over again, the motion bracketed by gojo's unfettered groans and his own harsh panting. after a long minute, you feel geto pull out of gojo and gojo pull out of you, the lewd noises juxtaposed against the soft music still playing.
gojo flops down onto the bed beside you, chest heaving. geto disappears into the bathroom only to reappear moments later with a damp towel, which gojo catches in one hand. he goes again into the bathroom and you hear the sound of the shower starting up.
"what's he doing?" you ask, watching gojo's chest rise and fall. he holds up a finger, slowing his breathing before he answers you.
"cleaning himself up," he says between lungfuls of air. he turns his head to look at you and winks. "he needs to wash up for what we have planned next with you."
you don't have time to ponder exactly what that could entail before gojo suddenly sits up and manhandles you onto your back, his hands pushing your collarbones. you can feel his release leaking out of you, slippery in between your thighs.
"remember what i said about asking nicely?" his blue eyes are piercing as they bore into yours. gojo is close enough that you can count his eyelashes, and you catch the lingering scent of ysl’s black opium cologne. you swallow, toes tingling at the sheer proximity.
he leans into you and you're dumbstruck by the broadness of him as he cages you in, dipping his head down to brush his nose against yours. barely breathing, you have to bite back a whimper as gojo’s mouth moves to your throat.
"manners are important, you know." sucking hungrily, he spreads your legs with a knee, reaching down to clean up the mess he made inside of you.
"shocked that you would know, seeing as you don't have any," you choke out, nails scrabbling at his shoulder blades while he wipes you clean, the light touch of gojo's hand stark in contrast to the teeth at your throat. you feel him grin into your skin.
"i'm demonstrating them right now, aren’t i?" you can't tell if you're wet from him coming inside of you or from the way he's touching you, once again too much and not enough all at once.
"don't gentlemen always clean up the messes they make?" gojo asks rhetorically, lips moving on your skin. "i'm nothing if not a gentleman."
"and i'm the goddamn president," your voice wobbles but it comes out sufficiently derisory for you in this moment. "since we're telling jokes now."
gojo bites, sucking hard enough to leave a purpled bruise. you can't stop your hand from twisting in his hair, your body arching up into him.
"i know what you want," gojo’s voice is low as he tilts your jaw up for better access, his mouth hot on your neck. he throws the soiled towel aside without looking. "and i'm not going to give it to you until you ask. nicely. "
he moves down your body, leaving bruising kisses along your sternum, your ribs, your hipbones. his palms are cool when they press into your knees, pushing your legs apart so he can kneel between them. gojo looks up at you from beneath his lashes, daring you to retort.
"i know you can do it," he drawls, voice lilting in condescension. he grazes a finger through your slick folds, darting away when your eyelids flutter. "all you need to do is ask."
sheets clenched in your hands, you bite your lip. looking down, you appraise the cocky grin on gojo's face, his eyebrow raised in challenge. he's a bitch, for sure, but it takes one to know one.
"no," is all you say, watching his gaze darken. "i don't think i will."
gojo's mouth is above your clit in a flash, breath hot on your slick lips. your hips buck up involuntarily and he leans back, laughing. you kick at his chest with a foot, resisting the urge to pout.
"come on, it won't kill you," he says mockingly. "it might even do you good to learn some manners." 
his hands are firm on your hipbones and he dips his head back down, breathing along your lips. every fibre of your being is on fire and you want it so bad it hurts, throbbing hotly at your core but you will not give him the goddamn satisfaction.
he presses open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs, snickering at the sharp inhale through your nose when he scrapes the thin skin with his teeth. an accidental moan slips from your mouth when he sucks a hickey into your hip, the hand that flies up to stifle it coming too late.
heart racing, a devious smile suddenly quirks your lips. "i don't need to ask," you say, tone just as mocking as gojo's. "to know geto is better at eating me out."
gojo stills against you, his mouth hot on your skin. he draws back slowly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. his grip tightens around your hips and you meet his gaze unwaveringly, watching as a shadow passes over his features.
he cocks his head, looking all the world like a predator about to snatch his prey.
"you know," he begins, and there's nothing joking or lighthearted in his tone this time. "suguru got to have his dessert, but i never got to have mine."
there's no time to ready yourself before gojo's mouth is on you, his tongue sliding inside to your centre without hesitation. your hips jerk up and he's holding you down as he licks into you, tongue caressing your walls. you cry out, one hand gripping the sheets and the other twisted in his hair. you're struck by the thought that he can probably taste himself but judging from the way he's eating you out, he clearly doesn't care.
gojo's head is moving beneath your hand as he continues ravaging you, pulling back only for a second to release one of your hips. when his hand enters you, his fingers somehow feel even deeper than his entire length did ten minutes ago. gojo is unrelenting, pushing his index and middle fingers in and out so quickly you're choking on air. every nerve in your body has been set alight, silvery ecstasy coursing through your veins like drugs as he doesn’t stop. 
he's suctioned his lips around your clit, not coming up for air as his hand pumps inside of you. gojo's mouth is warm and wet as he licks and he doesn't let up even when you spasm, his forearm firm across your pelvis to hold you down while his fingers hit your spot, again and again.
you can't even moan because you can't breathe. your eyes are scrunched shut and your back is arched off the bed. you don't have to look to feel his nose pressed into the top of your mound as gojo eats you out like he's fallen ill and your folds are hiding the antidote.
you're just about to come and he stops all at once, removing his hand with a squelch and releasing your clit from between his lips. you blink blearily, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you peer down at him. gojo's got a challenging look on his face, staring up at you resolutely.
"say please," he says, and you're about to shake your head when he leans closer to you, lips gleaming and chin slick. he trails a finger through your folds, dripping from how close you are and his own saliva. gojo's fingertip circles your clit without touching it, his touch featherlight.
"if you want to come," his voice is low, without mirth. "say it."
every cell in your body has been besieged by want and it seems like he can tell, the little shit. the corner of his mouth curls upwards when he pulls back and your body involuntarily lurches up, like it's following him. you're stubborn and you hate losing but you also really, really fucking need to finish under his tongue.
you bite your lip, the haze in your mind leaving you thoughtless save for one aching need. gojo's blue eyes flash and you're suddenly reminded of the snake, right before it entices eve into eating the apple.
his mouth is set in a firm line, expression resolute. there’s fire simmering beneath your skin and you’re absolutely burning with it, tossing your pride aside as the word finally leaves your mouth. 
"please," you choke out, and his mouth splits into a smug grin, teeth shining as brightly as his hair. you only have a moment to feel intense annoyance before gojo's lips are back on yours and the feeling is instantly replaced with mind-numbing pleasure, every endorphin in your brain releasing all at once.
he's thrown your legs over his shoulders, jaw working furiously while his tongue licks into you. gojo's long fingers slip back inside of you seamlessly, aided by how wet you are and his saliva. his other hand leaves your hip and he spreads your folds with his fingers, pushing your clit out and creating the perfect conditions for him to latch his lips around it and suck.
"oh, god," you wail, both hands fisting in his air and toes curling over gojo’s shoulders. you’re heaving shallow breaths but he doesn't stop, his fingers plunging in and out of you as he sucks hard, cheeks hollowing and teeth nipping gently at the bud. you’re absolutely drowning in it, choking on air and limbs jerking when you cry out and come. your thighs squeeze his head and he probably can't breathe but you don't care and neither does he as gojo basically lets you fuck his face, taking all of you and then some.
it just keeps going, and going, and going. gojo doesn't come up for air, suckling at your clit even as you sag back onto the bed, spent. he slowly withdraws his head from between your legs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. geto reappears, his body damp, and you crack an eye open to appraise his lithe form.
"she said i'm better at eating her out," gojo winks conspiratorially, waggling his eyebrows at you and hopping off the bed to stand up.
you don't have the strength to rebut but you don’t have to because geto rolls his eyes, climbing onto the bed to help you sit up. "i'm fairly certain she didn't."
geto reaches into a bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of water. he unscrews the cap and raises it to your lips, his other hand supporting your back as he helps you drink.
"we're giving you another break," geto's voice is soft but his eyes are dark as you nod weakly, water trickling down your chin. geto’s touch is tender on your jaw as he thumbs at the droplets, taking the bottle from you when you're done and propping you up with a pillow. he leans in close, his loose hair falling into his face, to stroke your cheek, gaze never leaving yours.
"watch closely, okay?" he says, and you have the feeling that it isn't a question, despite being phrased as one. you're sitting on one side of the bed, which is massive enough that all three of you and probably a few more could lay comfortably side-by-side with enough room to spare. gojo turns on the fireplace, the embers crackling to life as he draws the curtains closed, casting the room in a warm glow.
gojo walks back to the bed with palpable intent guiding his footsteps, blue eyes fixed on geto. with eyes only for each other, you watch as gojo climbs onto the bed and on top of geto, whose palm has come to rest around gojo's waist, their gazes locked.
a soft sigh falls from geto's lips when gojo begins pressing tender kisses down his neck. touching him in an achingly affectionate way that seems almost uncharacteristic, gojo's hands are reverent as they hold geto’s body close. they're both achingly hard again but there's nothing rushed about the way gojo's lips are moving against his skin, every hitched breath and shuddering exhale deafeningly loud in the silence of the room.
gojo takes his time, making sure there’s not an inch of geto’s body left unmarked by his lips. he’s everywhere— at geto’s ribs, his navel, his thighs, his hipbone. the sound of geto sighing wafts into your ears like smoke, and gojo parts his legs slowly, palms on the inside of his knees. you watch gojo kneel between his legs like he’s praying, taking a long moment to stare up at geto, who meets his gaze unblinkingly. there’s a long moment where they just breathe together, having another silent conversation meant for the two of them alone. 
you have the inescapable sense that you’re being let in on something precious, confirmed by the careful way gojo dips his head down in between geto’s thighs. he brings geto’s legs over his shoulders and geto reaches down to stroke his hair, carding his fingers through the soft strands. from where you’re sitting beside them, gojo’s lowered head is obscured by geto’s thighs, but the way geto inhales sharply through his nose lets you ascertain the moment gojo’s tongue enters him. 
the way gojo licks into him is almost alien to the feral manner in which he was eating you out earlier, all tender kisses and measured swipes of his tongue. it’s like he’s a different person, his touch delicate on geto’s skin as he keeps his legs spread, head moving unhurriedly between his thighs. geto’s eyelids have fluttered closed, his dark hair pooled around his head as gojo continues lapping at him like gentle waves against a serene shore. 
the only noises in the room are geto’s slow breaths and the wet sounds of gojo’s mouth, geto’s hardness untouched between them. he hasn’t made any move to touch himself and neither has gojo, and you watch as his body ripples with bliss, toes flexing over gojo’s shoulders. 
after several long minutes, gojo lifts his head, dropping soft kisses up geto’s thigh as he lays his legs back down onto the bed. geto is breathing heavily, forearm slung over his eyes, as gojo leans over to open the bedside drawer, pulling out another bottle of water. he tips his head back, pouring water into his mouth and swishing it around before swallowing, capping the bottle and closing the drawer. he angles his body back over geto, touch featherlight across his clavicle. 
geto shivers when gojo ghosts a finger down his sternum, closing his eyes when gojo takes his lips in his own. he has one hand on gojo's shoulder, the other sliding up into his hair as their mouths move languidly together. gojo has tugged one of geto's legs around his waist, slow and deliberate, not at all similar to the way he did the same to you earlier. geto arches into him, and their bodies are so intertwined that it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins, like they've merged into one.
they're so close, in fact, that it takes you a full minute to realize gojo has been inside of geto for quite some time, his hips moving fluidly as geto wraps his arms around his shoulders and crosses his ankles behind gojo's back. his thrusts are measured, unhurried, and geto's eyes close when gojo dips his head down to nuzzle at his neck.
judging from the way he takes all of gojo effortlessly, you think that geto must have prepped in the shower. from your vantage point, you can see the muscles of gojo's back shifting as he moves, geto exhaling loudly as gojo gently picks up the pace, thrusting slowly like they could do this for the next ten, hundred, or even thousand years. the only thing you can hear are their measured breaths, the bed silent as gojo carefully brings his hips forward again and again.
geto makes a low noise and gojo understands, leaning back to lift geto's ankles onto his shoulders. it's only after he fills up geto for the dozenth time that gojo dips down, his hips never faltering, to capture geto's lips in his own. their mouths move against one another as their bodies are joined, geto's palms pressed flat to gojo's chest and gojo's hands wrapped around geto's thighs.
you watch them make love and it's breathtakingly intimate, breath hitching in your throat when they break apart and geto tucks a strand of gojo’s hair behind his ear. a slow smile spreads over gojo's face, nothing at all like the feral grin that split his lips earlier. he presses a tender kiss to the inside of geto’s calf, tilting his hips up and and letting out a soft chuckle when geto inhales sharply and his eyes snap shut, toes curling and fingers flexing against gojo's chest.
he still hasn't reached between geto's legs and you're starting to think geto must have the stamina of a fucking horse after being sucked and fucked both ways. geto opens his eyes and he meets gojo's gaze, who once again doesn't need words to understand. he pulls out of geto as smoothly as he entered him, climbing off the bed and heading for the bathroom.
geto sighs deeply, still on his back. for a long minute it's just the two of you in the quiet, and you twitch, heat pooling between your legs. he's on top of you in the next moment, pushing away the pillow supporting your body to lay you flat on the bed. "you were watching, right?"
you nod, thinking that it must be evident from how wet you are. geto's hands are braced on either side of your head and he's pulled your legs over his hips, his hair tickling your neck as his head bows down. he's radiating warmth and you catch a whiff of the same versace cologne, musky as he licks an unhurried stripe up your neck.
the energy in the room is charged and you watch his biceps tense, your gaze dropping to the firm muscle of his chest as the firelight lends his body an otherworldly halo. tilting your chin up, geto doesn't look away when he slides into you, his hips meeting yours in one deliberate thrust. your world has been reduced to one point of contact and you're melting into oblivion as geto stays unmoving deep inside of your wet heat, anchored by your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
you're staring so deeply into his eyes that you could drown as he just stays there, completely still as your walls clench around him. your mouth is an inch from his own, breaths mingling in the quiet. the room is completely silent save for the distant hum of the shower and the crackle of the fireplace, tempered by your shallow breathing. geto looks at you through hooded eyelids, tingles shooting down to your toes as he visibly holds himself back, trembling with the effort. you’re acutely aware of your heartbeat, thundering in your ears. 
when geto finally draws back and brings himself into you again, it's so good you could cry. the sex is made even more intense by the way he continues to stare through you, dark eyes glittering. never breaking eye contact, he purposefully snaps his hips again, and again, and again, each measured thrust metered by the sighs that escape your lips. your hands slide down from his neck and you can feel the muscle and sinew of his back shifting while he moves, your every sense overtaken by him as he continues to roll his hips. every time his head brushes your cervix your body undulates with pleasure, reducing you to a puddle in his arms. 
geto lowers his head, breath hot against your neck, and you think about the fact that he’s the only one who hasn’t come yet. your bodies are pressed together and you can feel every inch of him as he moves inside of you, deliberate and restrained. you can tell he’s yearning for more but he doesn’t let himself have it, tensely grasping your jaw when you arch up into his chest. he doesn’t pick up the pace even when you rest your hands on his ass, the muscle flexing beneath your fingers as he just keeps going, each thrust calculated and purposeful when he slides in and out of you. chest to chest, you breathe with him, his body firm beneath your palms. he's staring endlessly into your eyes, his own so dark that they could hold the universe. 
you think you could come, just like this, and it's almost like geto can read your thoughts because he stops all at once, pulling out and leaving you devastatingly empty. you’re aching at the loss but distracted by gojo as he suddenly reappears, water dripping in rivulets down his chest. geto holds a hand out behind him, accepting the lube without looking.
"you said you were good with everything, right?" geto turns to glance at you, who can once again only nod in response. geto takes your hand to bring you into an upright position, gojo going to sit behind you and it's reminiscent of before, with his damp skin pressed to your shoulder blades and geto between your legs.
geto squeezes lube onto his fingers, rubbing his palms together to warm them up. he looks up at you through his lashes, dark and daring.
you nod, just once, and geto’s first finger enters your ass with so much confidence that it feels like this is his fucking profession. gojo's palms are again around your breasts, mouth hot on your nape. your breath hitches in your throat when geto adds another finger, scissoring them inside of your ass, his other hand tight on your thigh. groaning low and long, your palms come up to rest on top of gojo's hands as his tongue laps wetly at your skin. he suddenly bites at your shoulder and you don't have the energy to swat at him, making a harrumph sound when he chuckles into your neck.
"you're up to three fingers now, did you know that?" geto says quietly, and you glance down at his wrist as it moves between your legs. damn, he's right.
geto's other hand smooths down your thigh, palm warm on your skin. "you're doing so good."
you can feel geto moving his hand inside of you as gojo presses a lingering kiss to your nape, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest, his legs encasing both of yours. his warmth envelops you as you just breathe, geto's fingers stretching you out.
you feel gojo smile into your skin. "the little lady must be tired, huh?"
your eyes are closed but you make a hmph noise, still lucid enough to retort. "i'm not a little lady, you dickhead."
gojo laughs, a hot puff of air against your neck, his arms snug around your waist. "i was talking about your clit."
chuckling breathlessly, you tip your head onto gojo's shoulder as geto continues scissoring his fingers inside of you. "okay, you're not wrong with that one."
one of gojo's arms slips out from their embrace and he leans to the side, opening the bedside drawer. his other arm suddenly retracts from around you too and your eyes snap open as your hands are yanked behind you, the click of handcuffs thunderously loud when they lock around your wrists.
you swallow hard, tugging on the restraints behind your back. nope, they're tightly secured. your heart is racing as geto removes his hand from your ass, gifting you with a view of his muscled back as he stands up and walks into the bathroom.
"first time being cuffed?" gojo asks knowingly from behind you, tracing a finger down your arm. you shiver, nodding stutteringly to the empty space in front of you. gojo rotates you in his lap to face him, your thighs on top of his own. the scent of his cologne is distinct, the notes of vanilla intensified by your proximity. 
gojo lowers his head to brush his nose against yours, and you absolutely thrill at the danger in his eyes when he leans back. "it takes a lot of trust," he says lowly, glancing down at your body. gojo looks up at you, gaze dark and rife with intent. "and we don't take that lightly."
he moves you both further down the bed, laying flat once he has enough room. you're sitting on his thighs and you feel him beneath your leg, hard and wanting.
geto's palms are cold and wet around your waist when they startle you from behind and you jolt, shuddering when he presses a lingering kiss to your nape. you're sopping again already and you want nothing more than to reach forward and snatch gojo by the shoulders to drag his lips onto yours but you can't.
wrists cuffed, your body is trapped between them with gojo at your front and geto at your back. icy anticipation shoots through your veins and lights a fire in your core. you're completely at their mercy now.
gojo sees it on your face and he doesn't make you ask this time as he lifts your thighs up to guide himself inside, not stopping until the flat plane of his hipbones are pressed against the swell of your ass. mouth wet on your neck, geto bites at your shoulder, reaching around to pinch a nipple before withdrawing his hand, the bed dipping as he climbs off.
gojo's grip is firm on your hips and your knees rest outside each of his thighs, wrists still bound behind your back. the next breath you release stutters as it leaves your lips, yet gojo doesn't move. you grind down onto him, lips puffy from overuse, and take the opportunity to luxuriate in being filled up. it's too fucking good, gojo nestled so deeply inside of you that you can feel him in your sternum.
he slowly raises your thighs up from below, bringing you back down just as carefully. you bite back a whimper, every sense heightened by the way gojo and geto can do absolutely whatever they want to you right now. he brings your hips together again, gradually picking up the pace when you openly groan, breasts bobbing as you ride him.
"she takes it so well, doesn't she?" geto says from behind you, the bed shifting as he climbs on again. gojo makes a noise of agreement, hands moving to your waist to steady you. geto cups your ass, urging you on to help you ride gojo more thoroughly.
"like she was born for it," gojo agrees, squeezing your waist in his hands. one of his fingertips wanders up to your breast, dancing around a nipple. you gasp, wrists straining against the cuffs as gojo retracts, his hand rejoining the other at your waist.
you're moving together and gojo is right there every time you sink back down, thrusting up to meet you. he was right, your clit is tired, and you think that maybe you could come from this alone if he just keeps going. there's a click of a cap, the sound of lube being pushed out of a bottle, but you barely hear it, your nerves strung tight with sensation. 
all of a sudden, there are palms on your spine, pressing you down onto gojo’s chest as he continues pumping his hips, his balls making a lewd sound when they slap your ass. you have no choice but to comply and you choke on air as gojo doesn't stop, the angle changing when you slant forward and allowing him to hit your spot. with your wrists behind your back, you would have fallen onto him but gojo is holding you up, one palm warm around your waist and the other supporting your shoulder.
he's fucking you earnestly now, your face an inch above his own. gojo's breathing hard, sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat as your bodies undulate against each other. once again, you ache to take his lips in yours but he doesn't let you, keeping you in place as he keeps pounding himself into you. you’re drunk with it, throwing your head back as pleasure radiates out from your core. 
there's movement behind you as geto rises up on his knees, one of his hands resting on your ass as it moves up and down. he pushes your spine down even more, raising your ass in the air and gojo is ready, meeting you with his tongue and licking into your mouth. ass up and face down, your veins are flooded with icy hot anticipation and you moan into his teeth, arms twisting futilely behind your back as the cuffs hold you in place. 
time grates to a halt when geto's tip breaches your ass, splitting you open from behind. you choke against gojo's lips, who stops moving, breaking away to let geto enter you properly. he's still holding you up as your head falls forward, dropping towards your chest.
"you okay?" gojo's voice is soft but laden with concern, one of his hands coming up to grasp at your jaw. he lifts your chin to meet his eyes and you're in a daze, the pressure overwhelming as geto continues pushing into you for what feels like an eternity. you nod jerkily, chin moving in his hand, and gojo brings you down to his chest, holding you close as geto keeps going until he's fully inside you at the other end.
there's a long moment where you just breathe, face pressed into gojo's shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around you. if you thought you felt full before that was nothing compared to how you feel right now. you're absolutely stuffed to the brim and there's no room left in your lungs for oxygen, every cavern and crevice of your body filled to the brim with nothing but them. 
it's not quite painful but it definitely is a lot, both men shoved in to the hilt. there's only a singular velvety wall separating them and you can feel gojo and geto pressed against each other inside of you. they're still not moving, gojo's palms smoothing up and down your back as he and geto let you adjust to their simultaneous penetration.
you shift your weight and your senses are instantly overwhelmed in a way you've never felt before, every fibre of your being set alight with sensation as hot ecstasy erupts throughout your body. drooping further into gojo's shoulder, you let out a primal groan, unable to produce speech. he makes a knowing noise deep in his throat, a low mhmm-hmm, and gently props you up, holding your torso above his own. the motion moves both of them inside of you and you have to bite back a genuine wail as you feel their thicknesses rub together, hot and hard between your walls.
"just tell us when," gojo says, supporting your entire body like you weigh nothing. geto's palms are warm on your hips from behind and he strokes, soothing. "there's no rush."
geto makes an affirmative sound, the noise loud in the pin-drop silence. you would say something but you're devastated by proximity, gojo inside of you one way and geto in another. your entire being has been subsumed and you're lost in the ocean of their bodies, drifting in the warmth of their hands, the slowness of their breaths, the distinct smell of expensive cologne and sex.
carefully patting your hip, you blink your eyes open as geto gently brings you to the surface. gojo is looking at you, unhurried and steady, and you can feel the same surety radiating from geto behind you.
you heave a shuddering breath, feeling them beneath your skin, in your bones, as they reach into the deepest caverns and crevices of your body. you've never been more certain of anything else in your life when you look at gojo’s face, exhaling loudly to say one word. 
"move."
they don't have to be told twice. gojo pulls out of you in the same instant as geto, both snapping their hips forward to meet at the centre of you. the cry that escapes your mouth is deafening, and the sound is punched out of you again, and again, and again as they thrust together, filling you up beyond measure. you feel like you're going to overflow, brain short-circuiting and body sagging in gojo's hands as he keeps holding you up while he moves alongside geto.
geto quickens his pace and their timing changes, gojo plunging into you in the moment that geto draws himself back. you're not empty for a single second and you fucking love it, choking on air when gojo cranes his neck down to lick your areola. the sounds the three of you are making are absolutely filthy, heavy panting and skin slapping skin as your bodies move together. it's almost like gojo and geto are connected through you and you’re punch-drunk, body moving forwards and backwards on their lengths as they fuck you simultaneously.
you have hands all over you, geto's fingers digging into your hips tight enough that you'll have bruises tomorrow, gojo's arms wrapped around your torso with his palms flat on the skin of your back. you're delirious with it, eyes rolling back as gojo pushes you into a more upright position and in doing so shoves you onto geto, who thrusts forward at the same moment that gojo hits your spot. one of them inside of you was overwhelming but both feels world-ending, pleasure erupting from everywhere and flowing all the way into your fingers and toes. 
you're utterly incapable of speech at this point and you're spewing nonsense; things that sound like words but aren't, guttural moans pouring out of you like rain. your breasts are bouncing furiously and you've never felt like this in your life, each man fucking one of your holes like it's his last day on earth.
arms spasming in the restraints, you keen, high and loud. something visceral has taken over you and the pace they've set inside of you is so much yet somehow still not enough. you need to touch yourself but you can't and you want more, you fucking need more.
"h—harder," you choke, straining against the cuffs. you're aching with desire and burning for release as your entire body is pulled taut by a string that threads through all three of you. "fuck me harder."
the atmosphere in the room changes immediately. gojo's eyes flash and his fingers flex around your waist, the bed shifting as he presses his heels into the mattress to pound into you from below. geto speeds up behind you, thrusting into your ass uninhibited. you can feel them sliding together inside of you and you're fucking choking on air, spluttering as they piston in out of you at light speed.
you're suddenly yanked backwards when a hand grabs you by the cuffs, geto's grip a vice around your wrists. he doesn't stop pushing himself inside of your ass, using your weight as leverage as he leans away to thrust deeper. his free hand seizes a fistful of your hair, pulling your head backwards and shooting tingles of prickly pleasure down to your toes. with your back bowed, you're basically suspended above gojo, geto's position and his hold on your wrists creating an equilibrium between the two of you that lets him support your weight.
the position has consequently raised your face above gojo’s mouth, who hungrily claims your lips with his own while he continues pulling your hips down onto himself from below. you're teary-eyed from sensory overload, gasping against gojo's lips as geto keeps snapping his hips forwards into you, your folds squelching lewdly as gojo does the same. the scent of their cologne and the smell of sex hangs heavy in the air, stifling your lungs as you struggle to suck down air. 
“do—don’t,” you rasp into gojo’s mouth, drunk with the sensation of two hot, hard lengths moving together inside of you. “don’t —ungh— stop.” 
the friction is delicious and it seems like geto thinks so too, his breaths growing laboured behind you. a gasp is punched out of your lungs when he releases your hair to slap your ass hard , the crack audible even amongst all the noises the three of you are making. geto lets go of your wrists to dig his fingers into your hips once more, forcing your spine into a slope as he brings you back onto himself at a punishing speed. gojo’s length keeps rubbing into his inside of you and geto is absolutely losing himself in it, fucking you carnally as you feel more than see him finally approach climax.
gojo breaks away and he isn't looking at you anymore, staring past your face at geto, whose eyes are scrunched shut as he jackrabbits his hips. the way he's moving and the sounds he's making are borderline animalistic, all grunts and heavy breathing. geto is unraveling, his movements turning frantic and you can't do anything but take it as he pushes into you over and over again, single-mindedly chasing his own release.
gojo is still thrusting up into you and from the way he's tensed up you can tell that he's close too, but he's not focused on your pleasure or his own right now. his eyes never leave geto, whose lips have parted as he lets himself pump his hips freely into your ass. your entire body jolts from the movement, anchored by gojo's firm arm around your waist and his length still moving inside of you.
"suguru," comes gojo's voice, pointed and direct. geto opens his eyes and looks at gojo, who's wearing the most serious expression you've ever seen on his face. gojo's tone leaves no room for argument when he speaks.
"come."
geto makes a strangled noise and then it's happening all at once, his rhythm stuttering as his balls tighten and he finally, finally orgasms. he's spurting hotly into your ass and it's neverending— geto just continues coming, filling you up with his seed as his body jerks violently, wracked with pleasure.
inside of you, gojo's length has continued to press against geto’s throughout his climax, and he doesn't stop thrusting even as geto comes down. he actually speeds up when geto begins to soften inside of your ass, sitting up and dragging you onto his lap after geto pulls out.  
the desire to rub your clit is so overpowering that you feel like you might actually die. your head twists despairingly over your shoulder, trying to implore geto to take your cuffs off, when a firm hand grabs your chin and turns your head back around.
gojo's gaze is unwavering as he releases your chin to grab the flesh of your ass, thrusting up and ignoring your eyes blown wide in need.
"don't look at him," his voice is even as it cuts through the frenzied wail that escapes your clenched teeth. "look at me."
you're struggling to comply because you've hit your limit— it's all too fucking much, geto’s come is slippery between your cheeks and you’re aching so hard it hurts because you need to come now. you’re gasping so deeply that it sounds like you’re choking but he doesn't care, bouncing you in his lap even as you whine from oversensitivity.
"didn't you hear me?" it sounds like a question but gojo isn't asking. you can't form words, rendered incoherent by the hurricane of sensation. you can feel him getting close too but he supersedes his own desire to finish, focusing entirely on the task at hand.
gojo's fingers tighten around your jaw, his tone just as unforgiving.
"look. at. me. "
it's akin to weathering a torrential downpour when you muster up every ounce of strength left in your feeble body to open your eyes, meeting gojo's unblinking gaze. you're struggling to suck down air while he stares into your soul, slamming you down onto himself for the last time as he spills deep inside of you, coming so hard his eyes roll back in his head. you're still moving in his lap and you're babbling incoherently as he fills you to the brim, his load and geto's separated only by a thin wall inside of you.
gojo exhales harshly, pumping his hips through the aftershocks as you milk him dry. you're trying not to let the despair show outwardly on your face and you're tugging despondently at the cuffs, thrashing so hard in the restraints that your wrists are bruising. it's only because your eyes are open that you see the wicked grin suddenly quirk gojo's lips, and you're powerless to do anything as he abruptly shoves you backwards into geto's waiting arms.
"you didn't think we forgot, did you?" gojo asks devilishly. geto's hands are warm around your chest and his fingers are pinching your nipples as gojo thrusts up, hard, and directly rails your spot at the same moment his hand darts down to thumb at your swollen clit.
the tension inside your core snaps like a rubber band and the sensory processing centre in your brain implodes instantly, every cell in your body igniting all at once. the raw ecstasy that courses through your veins is so visceral that you feel high, floating somewhere outside of your body as it just doesn’t stop. you barely register that you’re releasing wave after wave of liquid around gojo as your limbs convulse helplessly against geto's chest, every fibre of your being utterly consumed by sensation. the last thing you hear before passing out is gojo's breathless laughter, blackness engulfing the edges of your vision as you fall endlessly into geto's arms. 
*****
you don’t know how much time has passed when strong arms scoop you up, wrapping around your shoulders and under the backs of your knees, carrying your limp body like you weigh nothing. your hand falls toward the floor and you absently wonder when the cuffs were taken off, your other arm folded into a warm chest. head lolling towards a collarbone, the scent of jasmine permeates the corners of your subconscious. you’re distantly aware of being carried into the bathroom, cradled with painstaking care. 
there’s movement around you, the sound of footsteps and taps being turned on, the slow rush of water as it fills up the tub. your eyes are still closed when you’re carefully passed from one pair of arms to another, enveloped by warm water as you’re settled against the smooth skin of a chest, arms wrapping securely around your middle. 
you’re resting on top of firm thighs, enveloped by warmth. you would open your eyes but you can’t because your body isn’t listening, limbs unresponsive and head thick with cottonwool. low sounds are falling from your lips, incoherent murmurs punctuated by the air you forcibly drag into your lungs, made nearly impossible because every fibre of your being is utterly spent. you’re suspended in the water and in this moment in time, succumbing to the black hole created by the vortex of sensation. you’re anchored by the body holding you close, palms around your middle and skin against your spine. a soft kiss is dropped on your nape before your head is gently tilted onto the smooth plane of a shoulder, your throat exposed. 
behind your head, there are hands lathering up your hair, working shampoo into your roots and massaging your scalp. you make a satisfied noise, deep in your throat as the scent of citrus fills the room. shampoo is smoothed all the way to the ends of your hair before the hands retract and you hear footsteps walk around to the other side of the tub, the water rising as another body steps in. once again, you’re passed to waiting arms, a hand settling around your midsection while the other supports your spine. another pair of hands begins to wash the product out of your hair from behind as you’re held chest to chest, rinsing your hair with the bathwater until all you can smell is citrusy shampoo. 
eyelids fluttering, you suddenly come face to face with geto, who’s blinking down at you. he smiles softly as gojo finishes washing your hair, pressing his lips to your forehead when you let out a gratified sigh. limbs still immobile, the water moves around you as he carefully hands you back to gojo, who’s ready at the other end of the tub. your body is completely pliant as gojo positions you slightly in front of him, leaving enough room between the two of you for his hands to rest comfortably on your shoulders, his thighs beneath yours. 
you sigh again, closing your eyes when gojo kneads the flesh of your shoulders, applying enough pressure to release the tension but not so much that it’s painful. bringing your feet onto his lap, geto presses his knuckles into the sole of your foot, dragging them down when you exhale. they massage you like you’re precious, every touch considerate. you melt, relaxed both by the water and their slow hands. 
geto releases your feet and then there’s the sound of a pump, gojo still holding you up by the shoulders while geto begins to gently work soap into the curves and angles of your body, hands delicate on your skin. in the same moment, you hear gojo squeeze something onto his hands, fingers moving to your hair as he threads conditioner through the strands. 
blinking blearily, you raise a weary hand to your forehead, rubbing at a tender spot in the centre. geto gently catches your wrist in one hand, guiding it away from your face. 
“let us take care of you,” he says softly, submerging your hand beneath the surface of the water. “all you need to do is rest.”
gojo is rinsing your hair again and geto’s thumbs are rubbing tender circles into your temples, easing the hazy feeling in your mind. you’re trying your damnedest to keep your eyes open but you’re surrendering to exhaustion by the second, eyelids drooping as gojo finishes washing your hair. geto takes you in his arms once more when gojo stands up, climbing out of the tub to dry off. 
“you did so well,” geto murmurs into your neck. you would reply but your tongue is leaden, limbs loose as gojo lifts you out of the water, his chest warm against your cheek as he walks you both out of the bathroom and toward a waiting towel on the bed. he lays you flat before carefully unfolding your body to start the process of drying. the towel is fluffy and plush against your flesh and gojo takes great care in touching you, his breathing steady while he caresses your skin through the towel. 
being cleaned up has tired you out and you’re losing your grip on consciousness, head heavy as your eyes close. there are hands supporting your back, raising a bottle to your mouth and gently parting your lips to help you drink. the water isn’t as much gulped as it is poured down your throat, cold seeping into your core. the chill is quickly replaced by a warm blanket, tugged up to your shoulders, and the sensation of two bodies, one bracketing either side of you. 
you’re warm with sleep, listening to the measured draw of their breaths as they inhale, exhale, inhale and exhale again. there’s a palm on your spine and another on your side as you fall into the abyss, content to let the yawning mouth of exhaustion swallow you whole. 
*****
when you wake up several hours later, you have no idea how much time has passed. the bed is empty save for you in the middle, cushioned by a border of pillows. you’re still naked but warmed by the cocoon of the blanket, which has trapped heat beneath its surface. collecting yourself, last night comes back to you all at once, flashes of hot mouths and firm hands and quick tongues. it was by far the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and probably also the best sex you will have until the end of it. 
you sit up, realizing that you’re so hungry you could definitely consume an elephant. your stomach rumbles in agreement and you’re starving but you almost don’t want to leave the bed to bear the cold world outside, the high thread count and goosefeather pillows enticing you to come back even as you stand up. there are clothes laid over a chaise in the corner; upon closer inspection, you see a comfortable bra and underwear, along with a sweater and leggings. your dress from last night is folded neatly, your lacy bra and fancy panties tucked discreetly into a bag beside it. 
glancing down at your body properly, you notice for the first time the bruises around your wrists, which are rubbed raw. you peer down at your chest, which is similarly bruised. still naked, you make your way to the bathroom, gasping at the sight of your body in the mirror. 
there’s no unmarred skin left on your neck; it’s absolutely littered with hickeys and bruises. your thighs are in a similar state, and you twist around to inspect your back, lovebites and marks scattered across your shoulder blades. your ass is bruised red and purple in the shape of fingerprints, the fading handprint impossible to miss across one of your cheeks. dimly, you register a dull throb between your legs. departing from the bathroom, you can’t help but be impressed because damn, they went to town on you. 
you tug the sweater over your head and pull the leggings on, both from designer brands. picking up your dress and the bag, you take a second to marvel at the stunning view before you leave. the residence is situated so high into the sky that you’re struck by the ridiculous thought that they both literally and figuratively took you to cloud nine. 
the suite is even more opulent in the daylight, white marble gleaming and tall arches cavernous as you walk down the hall towards the kitchen. gojo is perched on a barstool when you round the corner, tapping on his phone. geto is at the stove, flipping something in a pan. 
gojo perks up at the sound of your footsteps, spinning around in the stool. “the beast awakens!” 
you make a face at him, setting down your bag and dress onto the counter. “one of us is a beast, and it’s definitely not me.” 
gojo titters, spinning in his chair. “i knew my gut was right when i spotted you.”
there’s a plate piled high with pancakes waiting for you, still warm. syrup and butter are off to the side and you wince when you sit down, pain radiating from your ass even though the barstool’s leather is soft. 
geto turns around, holding a spatula and wearing an apron that says kiss the cook, but don’t touch the buns! the concerned expression on his face makes you bite back your smile. 
“you okay?” he asks, unconvinced when you nod. his brow furrows as he looks at you, scanning your body. “we went really hard last night, i’m sorry. you’re going to be sore for a while.” 
“you have nothing to be sorry about,” you say, picking up a knife and fork to dig into the pancakes. “i’ve never enjoyed anything more in my life.” 
geto chuckles, turning back to the pan. “i’m glad. we had a really good time, too.” 
you’re eating the pancakes with so much fervour that gojo glances up from his phone, an impressed look on his face. 
“we also have eggs and croissants, if pancakes aren’t the vibe,” geto says from the stove, his back still to you. your mouth is too stuffed with pancake to reply. 
“i think she’s fine with the pancakes,” gojo snickers, puffing his cheeks in imitation and ignoring the glare you cast in his direction. 
geto somehow senses that gojo is being a brat and turns around, brandishing his spatula. “the only reason we’re even having the breakfast of a kindergartner is because cavity-man over here needed his sugar fix.” he turns back around to flip a pancake presumably destined for said cavity-man’s stomach. 
“dentists love me,” gojo sniffs, hopping down from the barstool. he breaks the rule emblazoned on geto’s apron and squeezes his ass from behind, letting out a squawk when geto whirls around and smacks him with the spatula. 
cleaning your plate at a remarkable speed, you’re just starting to wonder where your phone and purse have gone when gojo appears with both in his hands. he makes no move to bring them to you and you sigh aggravatedly, climbing down from the barstool to take them from him yourself. 
he smirks evilly, holding them high in the air and far beyond your reach. “didn’t we have a conversation about manners?” 
you resist the urge to jump, mainly because your ass hurts too much to do so, and settle for scowling at gojo, who’s still holding your things tauntingly above your head. he’s so unbearably tall that any hope you have of swatting at his hands is laughable. 
geto walks over and reaches up, fingers plucking your phone and purse from gojo’s hands. he ignores gojo’s indignant huff as he hands them to you. 
“we’d love to give you our numbers,” he says, eyes kind. “if you’re up for it, we’d really like to do this again sometime.”
like a vampire, all you need is an invitation and you’ll just keep showing up forever. “i would love nothing more.” 
standing in front of both of them, you’re once again struck by how tall they are. gojo is leaning an arm onto geto’s shoulder, who’s still holding the spatula. they gaze at you and for a moment you’re reminded of last night. not usually one to be bashful, you duck your head, biting your lip. the events of last night will be staying with you for a while. 
“there’s a car waiting for you downstairs whenever you’re ready to go,” geto says, and you look up. “though we wouldn’t mind if you stayed a little longer.” 
gojo pushes away from geto, striding forward to grab your wrist and drag you into the living space. he plops you down onto the couch in front of a massive tv, taking your things from your hands and tossing them beside you.  
“you’re right, i’m a fucking beast at mario kart,” gojo drawls, opening something you didn’t realize was a drawer and pulling out two controllers. “i’m princess peach, of course.” 
you accept the controller, rolling your eyes. “why does that make so much sense?” 
gojo doesn’t dignify that with a response, turning on the switch before yelling into the kitchen where geto is still cooking. “suguru, i want extra sprinkles on my pancakes!” 
“kill yourself,” geto calls back. gojo takes this reply as an affirmative and jostles your shoulder, pointing at the nintendo logo when the screen flickers to life. “you can be bowser, since he looks just like you.” 
you can’t help but laugh, the smell of pancakes wafting into the room as gojo glances sideways, his eyes dancing. smiling to yourself, you conclude that being stood up is the best thing that ever could have happened to you.
2K notes · View notes
taasgirl · 5 months
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lover - oscar piastri
summary: y/n is a songwriter who writes plenty of songs however no one realizes that they're made by her (and about oscar hehe)!
a/n: the outcomes of the races are fictional, and the order in which these songs have been written (assume fearless was written this year ygwim?). also no face claim!!
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liked by yukitsunoda, oscarpiastri, and 33, 287 others ynusername romance is not dead if you keep it just yours! lovelovelove being able to come home for race day!! i'm so proud of u osc 🩷
oscarpiastri I'm so lucky 🥰 liked by ynusername
user27633 Y/N IS A SWIFTIE CONFIRMED!?!?!
ynusername of course!!
user16372 u literally take the cutest photos of oscar
user82537 y/n quoting paris... i'm so up
yukitsunoda 😆😆
landonorris You're my favourite wag
ynusername wow how considerate
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liked by taylorswift, landonorris, and 1, 287, 387 others oscarpiastri Unwinding before Japan 👊
ynusername tehee we're cute
oscarpiastri You're cuter landonorris Get a room
taylorswift ooooh she's working hard @ ynusername
user62584 WHAT THE FUCK ARE U DOING HERE???
user98274 OSCAR IS FRIENDS WITH TAYLOR HUH
user61192 i did not expect to see taylor in the comments of oscar's post tagging y/n!
user92898 no fr like what is going on
user93829 Everyone shut up about taylor look at the beauty that is y/n omd
view ynusername's story...
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liked by jackantonoff, phoebebridgers, and 55, 918, 278 others taylorswift In honour of my album 'The Tortured Poets Department' release a week ago, I wanted to thank my biggest musical inspirations! Thank you Jack, Lana, and Y/N for helping me the best artist I could possibly be, without you'd guys I'd be nowhere (thank you y/n for writing the cheesiest, cutest, sexiest songs ever)!!
user51862 who is y/n
user01827 She's dating f1 driver oscar piastri but also now apparently a songwriter idk...
user72973 Wdym thanks y/n for writing?? you're telling me the twitter stans were right??
user62863 y/n is singlehandedly uniting f1 and the swifties
ynusername thank u tay 💓💓
user52868 Girl has been living a double life
user51929 ohhh so this is why taylor was commenting on oscar's post😭
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liked by oscarpiastri, taylorswift, and 108, 276 others ynusername well now that the cat is out of the bag, who wants to hear a story? i assume u all said yes.
on one of our first dates, oscar made me a bracelet (yes that one) and i thought (and still think) that it was one of the most romantic gestures. so obviouslyyy i wrote 'lover' about him hehe. yes we only knew each other for at most three months when i wrote it, but i love him so much, he's my forever.
oscarpiastri I love having a singer for a girlfriend (wife one day)
ynusername hello cat boy
user18739 You're telling me that taylor's most romantic song is literally written by my favourite wag about my favourite driver?? i might pass out
ynusername haha yes! i write a lot of songs for tay
landonorris So this song is basically about ur delusions liked by ynusername
user52863 oh now i need to know exactly what songs you've written
user20939 AND PLEASE RECORD COVERS OF THEM TOO
lilymhe wait so you've been friends with taylor the whole time...
lilymhe AND THE SONG THAT I WANT PLAYED AT MY WEDDING IS WRITTEN ABOUT OSCAR?? ynusername oh my god lily HAHA
let me know if you liked this!! i know it's super short but i'm seriously lacking inspo and ideas omd. also i literally love oscar so much.
i'm also working on a few reqs, so if you have a suggestion or request, let me know because i'd love to do it!!
1K notes · View notes
sansaorgana · 2 months
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— LADY OF THE ROSES (I)
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PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR
PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC
SUMMARY — When Lord Tyrell organizes a huge tournament, the rumour has it that the winner might get his eldest daughter's hand in marriage. When she finds out that certain twins are not playing fair and are scheming together with her father to win, she finds herself a champion she wants to succeed instead – Ser Gwayne Hightower, who was sent by his father to win the tournament.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. Although I am not sure if we have even seen them in House of The Dragon, so they can literally look like anything...? 🤔 Thank you so much for reading my last fic with Gwayne and leaving lovely comments and messages! 🌹 It inspired me to write for him again and I already have more ideas for him and a Tyrell Lady Wife (although I don't think the fics will be connected, so they can be read separately). For some reason it makes SO MUCH SENSE to me for Gwayne to have a wife from Highgarden! Some sexual things are mentioned here but there is no actual smut, so I didn't put the warnings. 😉
WORD COUNT — 5,040
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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LADY OF THE ROSES (I)
Beautiful courtyards of Highgarden were filled with tents and knights. The sound of horses and clinging armour reached your ears as you were taking a stroll between the tents – against your father’s wish. He didn’t want you to walk freely around all those knights but you had your own guards and your curiosity had no match because you knew perfectly well what that expensive and flashy tournament was about.
You were in the right age to marry – some would say the age was more than right, too right even. You were Lord Tyrell’s eldest daughter and out of all the three sisters, you were the only one who still remained unmarried. The reasons behind that were two. First of all, you were a picky and proud Lady. Second of all, you didn’t want to leave Highgarden and The Reach.
Your father hoped that your marriage would create a powerful alliance and as a daughter of The Lord Paramount of the Reach and The Warden of the South, you were quite a catch for your suitors. Walking amongst them, you saw them turning around and staring at you with smirks. You were the only Lady around and your pale green dress was showing off just enough of your virtues in a typical Highgarden fashion. There were golden roses in your hair and golden eyeshadow on your eyelids as you were all dolled up for the first day of the tournament.
You took a turn around the Lannister tent and you hissed at the sight of your father. Thankfully, he was not looking in your direction and you managed to hide behind your guards but you ordered them to stand still. You wondered why your father was even by the Lannister tent. Talking so openly to one of the knights participating in the tournament was a clear favouritism.
“Thank you, Lord Tyrell, your support means a lot,” Lord Lannister said and you tried to see him better from between your guards’ shoulders. You didn’t like him at all since arrogance was written all over his face.
“It is no secret for all the men here that I would like you to win. It is a formality,” your father lowered his voice. “An alliance between such big houses… It would make us both stronger,” he put his arm around The Lannister. “But I liked the idea of the tournament. It has splendour, don’t you think? I like to show off,” you father grinned.
“As I said before, I am no knight. My younger twin brother is,” Lord Lannister said and your father looked around before shushing him and they both entered the tent.
Curiously, with furrowed brow, you peeked inside the tent despite your guards’ protests. And you nearly gasped at the sight of another man inside who was being prepared for the tournament as a squire was putting his armour on. He looked identical to the man your father was talking to.
“My brother, Ser Tyland, will pretend to be me during the tournament. No one will know,” Lord Lannister told your father and your father nodded at that. “I will sit and watch, pretending to be him. I will be criticising his techniques out loud just like a real knight would criticise his foolish brother who takes part in a tournament without being a knight,” he explained, very proud of himself.
He wouldn’t be the only man who wanted to take part in this tournament without the title of the knight. After all, everyone was aware that the prize was your hand in marriage and you didn’t necessarily need a knight. There were lots of common Lords joining the tournament but they were all honest with their intentions. Not only Lord Jason Lannister had your father’s favouritism but he also was planning to obviously cheat by using his brother.
It made you angry as you carefully took a step back and nodded at your guards to follow you down the path. It seemed like the whole tournament was just a show and a theatre play – you were no longer excited since the end result seemed to be fixed. You would be sent to Lannisport to marry that annoying and arrogant Lord Jason Lannister. Tears filled your eyes and you didn’t even care about your makeup anymore since you no longer longed for the tournament to begin.
You walked past the greenest tent around and saw a man in auburn hair washing his face outside. He noticed your staring and looked up with a dashing smile. He recognised you immediately from the portraits and your clothes. Also, what other Lady would dare to take a walk here? Only the one for whom the tournament was taking place.
“Lady Tyrell,” he bowed his head but his blue eyes were still on you.
You sniffled your tears back and straightened yourself.
“Lord…?” You asked and turned your head to see the banner on the tent. “Lord Hightower? No, that cannot be. Lord Hightower is in King’s Landing, is he not? And he is much older. He is The Hand of The King Viserys,” you tilted your head a little.
“You mean Otto Hightower, my Lady,” the man nodded with a smile as he approached you. His armour wasn’t fully on yet and you could see his shirt slightly open. “I am his eldest son, Ser Gwayne Hightower,” he introduced himself and reached his hand out.
After a while of hesitation, you allowed him to kiss the palm of your hand.
“Ser Gwayne Hightower. You are a brother to our Queen Alicent! Are you to inherit Oldtown after your father’s death?” You asked.
“That is correct, My Lady,” he nodded and straightened his back.
You hummed to yourself. Oldtown was in The Reach and it was the second largest and most populated city in the Seven Kingdoms. To get there from Highgarden, a horse needed around ten days down the Roseroad. You had been there before a few times with your parents but you had never met Ser Gwayne before. 
You looked him up and down. He had a cocky grin on his face but there was something about him that you actually quite liked – especially compared to Lord Jason Lannister. Ser Gwayne seemed to be confident but in a different, less exasperating way.
“Did your father encourage you to take part in this tournament, Ser Gwayne?” You asked him as you raised an eyebrow at him. “I do believe he is known for being an ambitious man.”
“Yes, my father insisted on me taking part,” Ser Gwayne admitted. “But I do not mind it myself.”
You nodded at that. Well, a union between your houses seemed to be right. You were both from The Reach and perhaps The Tyrells were more significant but The Hightowers were a real power, especially now. Sadly, your father seemed to be fixated on that whole idea of you marrying a Lannister.
Unless… Unless you would interfere somehow.
Your silence was interpreted by Ser Gwayne as a sign of exhaustion or boredom, though. He nodded his head and took a step back.
“It was nice to meet you before the tournament, my Lady,” he bowed his head. “I know there are dozens of knights around but, please, do remember about me while choosing your champion, I humbly ask,” he gave you one more dashing smile before walking inside his tent.
As a Lady for whom the tournament was taking place, you had the right to choose your champion. A man you favoured. Although, since the unofficial prize was your hand in marriage, it would be very awkward for a man who was not your champion to win. You assumed that your father would try to force you to choose Lord Jason Lannister.
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And you had been right. Now, when you were holding a golden rose prepared for this occasion as all the knights were standing in front of you and your family in the audience, your father squeezed you by your elbow. He leaned in to whisper into your ear:
“You shall give the rose to Lord Jason Lannister and name him your champion,” he said with a fake smile before moving away.
You swallowed thickly and took a step ahead to be able to reach the man you would choose. You glanced at The Lannister man on the horse – Tyland, pretending to be Jason. And in the audience nearby you there he sat – Jason, pretending to be Tyland. Your eyes met for a second and he grinned at you confidently although he had no idea you were aware of his plan.
You searched for a different pair of eyes now, amongst all the knights. And then you found them, the blue ones. His armour had beautiful ornaments and even his horse was armoured. It all looked so elegant and you smiled at the sight.
You bit on your lower lip. But was he a good knight? Did he actually stand a chance to win?
Well, you were about to find out.
“Ser Gwayne Hightower,” you took a few steps to the right to be closer to him as he commanded his horse to take a few steps ahead. “I choose you to be my champion,” you smiled at him and leaned in to hand him the golden rose.
“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell, it is an honour,” he bowed his head and you saw in his eyes that he was quite surprised that you had named him amongst all the men your champion. He took the rose from you carefully and pinned it to his armour before closing his helmet and returning to the other knights.
You took a deep breath in before walking away to take your seat. Your father’s burning gaze was nearly painful but your mother kept smiling, unaware of the schemings.
“That’s Otto Hightower’s eldest son. The Queen is his sister,” your mother babbled to your father. “Our daughter has chosen wisely,” she smiled at you. “And he’s handsome and quite young.”
Your father ignored her words and gave you a deadly glare instead but you only huffed and walked away, locking your eyes with Lord Jason again. The real one, sitting in the audience. He was not grinning anymore.
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Thankfully, Ser Gwayne turned out to be an excellent knight. Sadly, so was Ser Tyland Lannister, pretending to be his brother Lord Jason.
On the second day of the tournament, they already got rid of most of their opponents as they defeated them in combat. Some of the knights were seriously wounded.
On the third day it was already known that the last duel would be between Ser Gwayne and Ser Tyland. Everyone was taking bets and your father was gritting his teeth.
All this time, you were carefully watched by him and you had no opportunity to speak to any of the men taking part in the tournament. But on the night before the last, fourth, day when the final duel would take place, your father had thrown a feast, during which you were approached by Ser Jason Lannister.
Or Ser Tyland. Were they pretending to be each other during feasts as well? You were tempted to ask but you had no courage to do so.
“Lady Tyrell, there should be songs about your beauty,” he bowed his head and you bowed down.
“Lord Lannister,” you mumbled out, uninterested. “Why aren’t you busy writing them then?”
Your mother looked at you with terror in her eyes but you ignored her.
“Oh, believe me, I do not have time for such frivolities although I wish I had. However, my duties in Lannisport are many. My treasure is full and I shall spoil you with my goods when you are my Lady Wife,” he grinned at you, luring you with his wealth.
“You sound so sure that you’re going to win, my Lord,” you pointed out.
“Oh, I am sure. Ever since you named that Hightower knight your champion, I am determined to show him his place. But I hold no resentment towards you for your choice. I do realise that you, women from The Reach, like to tease,” he winked at you and you had to pretend his words were not an insult. Even your mother gasped a little at his boldness.
“I cannot believe you would spoil me with your wealth for nothing in return, my Lord,” you raised an eyebrow, curious of the response.
“Well, of course not. Like every husband I want my wife to be obedient, easy on the eye and give me many, healthy children,” he informed you. “Sons, I mean,” he fixed himself. That arrogant smirk was still on his face.
“I think your father is calling us,” your mother saved the day as she quickly took you by the arm and excused you both to walk you away from Lord Jason. “Oh, what an insufferable man! Sadly, your father seems to be fixated on the idea of you marrying him. And you know, dear (Y/N), after all the matches you had dismissed in the past… You just can’t say no now. Especially at your age,” she looked at you sternly, but still worried.
You didn’t answer that. You simply nodded your head and walked away to go outside and catch a breath.
You kept walking ahead of you, leaving the noise of the party behind you. You wanted to be alone and despite the darkness, you knew where you were going because you knew this garden better than yourself.
You entered the maze to hide in your favourite spot but after a while you heard unfamiliar steps behind you. You gasped and turned around to see a male silhouette, which caused a shiver go down your spine. If something happened to you now, unguarded and with no one to rescue if you called for help… You didn’t even want to imagine the consequences.
“That is only me, my Lady,” you heard a familiar voice and the man took a few steps ahead. It was Ser Gwayne Hightower, smiling at you.
“Ser Gwayne!” You pretended to sigh with relief but the truth was that you didn’t trust him either. You trusted no man who was creeping up on a Lady like that. “We shouldn’t be left alone without a chaperone,” you pointed out.
“Forgive me, I saw you running away and quite upset. I wanted to make sure nothing bad would happen to you as you wandered off from the crowd without any guards following you,” he lowered his voice as he approached you.
You swallowed thickly. He was right in front of you and behind you there was a tall live-fence that was making it impossible to escape. As he leaned in, his auburn hair fell onto his face and you felt it tickling your cheeks. That close he was.
“How chivalrous of you,” you breathed out, starting to feel dizzy. You had never been so close with a man.
He looked down, his gaze fixated on your tight, revealing dress. Your breasts were squeezed under the silky golden fabric.
“What if I don’t win tomorrow?” He asked as he lifted his eyes up again to meet yours. “Lord Jason is surprisingly good, especially for a man who is not a knight.”
“It’s because it’s not him,” you confessed with a heavy sigh and Ser Gwayne furrowed his brow at you.
“Are you suggesting that…?”
“I am not suggesting, Ser. It is true. I know from the very beginning, I have overheard them talking to my father. My father wants me to marry Lord Jason Lannister and this tournament is nothing but a show-off. He was angry at me for choosing you as my champion,” you told him.
Ser Gwayne seemed to be confused as he took a step back and you surprised yourself because you wanted him close again.
“That is… Unhonourable and disrespectful,” he pointed out. “Do you wish for Lord Jason to win as well, my Lady?” He looked at you, intensely.
“No! Why would I choose you as my champion then, Ser?” You shook your head, desperate to make him believe you.
“To toy with me, perhaps. Or to tease Lord Lannister,” Ser Gwayne pointed out.
“I do not wish to have anything in common with that man,” you huffed.
“And me? You do not know me, do you, my Lady?” Ser Gwayne smirked as he leaned in again, his nose nearly brushing yours as he put his right hand on the live-fence above you. You felt so small underneath him suddenly.
“What do you expect from a wife, Ser Gwayne?” You asked, swallowing a lump in your throat and he looked confused at that question as if it was a stupid thing to ask.
“Loyalty, of course,” he answered.
“And that’s it?” Now you were the surprised one. “What about children?”
“Well, it would be nice to have them, don’t you think, my Lady?” Ser Gwayne chuckled and rubbed your nose with his.
“What if I am flawed like my mother and I can give you only daughters?” You bit on your lower lip, slowly getting drunk at the feeling of having him so close.
“Then we shall make them all great ladies of great houses. My sister is The Queen. Us, Hightowers, we are ambitious,” he told you. “And I have many younger brothers who can produce their male heirs. The future of my family is safe whatever I do,” he assured you and raised his other hand to caress your cheek with his fingertips.
At first, you got startled at his touch as if it was causing you pain because you were not used to being touched like this by a male hand. But then, after a short while, you gave in and hummed to yourself, making him smirk.
You leaned back onto the live-fence and arched your back, connecting your crotch with his. You had no idea what made you do that… It was as if your instincts were telling you what to do. And it felt good.
“Don’t,” Gwayne scolded you and took a step back as you whined.
“Aren’t you here to claim me just in case you lose the duel tomorrow?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heating up. You couldn’t believe the boldness of your own words.
Lord Lannister had been right about the women from The Reach, apparently.
“Perhaps you should have not made me your champion, Lady Tyrell, if you think so lowly of me,” Ser Gwayne bowed his head and turned around to walk away, leaving you alone; confused and full of embarrassment.
One thing was certain – he was messing with your head. You couldn’t stop thinking of him all night long, touching yourself to the thoughts of him standing so close, to the memory of his touch and his voice.
You would rather die than marry Lord Jason Lannister. Any attempt to imagine anyone else other than Ser Gwayne touching you, was making you physically sick.
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You watched with fear, clenching your fists on the railing and leaning down to see better although, at the same time, you didn’t want to see; you were that scared.
You knew that people had been betting on who would win this combat. And more people had bet on The Lannister. Your eyes followed the golden rose attached to Ser Gwayne’s armour, though. You only wanted to keep looking at him as you prayed to the gods old and new for his victory.
The combat was fierce and long. Both of the horses got hurt and taken away and the two opponents were standing face-to-face now, having to duel with their swords on the ground.
Lord Jason Lannister – the real one, the one in the audience – stood up and clenched his fists on the railing, too, as he watched his twin brother.
“Come on!” He yelled and that was when the other Lannister struck Ser Gwayne down. “Yes! That’s right!” He cheered alongside the audience. Then, he looked at you with a smirk.
“Ser Gwayne!” You exclaimed in a high-pitched, scared voice.
To your relief, your champion stood up after taking the blow and you clenched your fists even tiger around the railing. You wouldn’t be surprised if you broke the wood with your hands.
After a few more attempts to strike each other down, both opponents were roaring with frustration. And then you spotted Ser Gwayne taking his helmet off and throwing it aside as people gasped.
Was he insane? You had been thinking that he was a rational man but apparently much less than you expected.
He looked up at you and nodded his head as the wind ruffled his auburn hair a little. You had to admit that he was presenting himself very handsome and you were aware that the helmet was limiting his view during combat but it was still very risky.
When you nodded back, he went back to the fight. His strikes and blows were fast and determined as if the fight was to death. You held your breath whenever he would get a punch or a strike since he was wearing no helmet. However, he seemed to be doing much better now.
Eventually, The Lannister was laying down and not standing up for quite a long time now as Ser Gwayne spat some blood out and looked up again – his face covered in blood and a few bruises but other than that, he was fine.
Your father stood up, carefully, before walking up to you to see with his own eyes. He hesitated and froze instead of announcing the winner and the whole audience was now looking at him.
“You shall announce my champion the winner,” you reminded him and he swallowed thickly.
“I… I announce Ser Gwayne Hightower the winner of this tournament. Congratulations!” He exclaimed and turned around this very instant to sit back down on his chair.
“You fought bravely, Ser Tyland,” Ser Gwayne helped his opponent to stand up as everyone froze at his words. “Oh, Lord Jason, do forgive me,” he nodded at him with a smirk before leaving the field.
Your heart picked up its pace and you couldn’t help a big grin. You glanced at The Lannister in the audience and he gave you a very unpleasant look this time. You couldn’t blame him, really. Ser Gwayne’s little mistake would make people gossip about The Lannisters cheating in the tournament. It was bringing you lots of satisfaction.
You were about to excitedly leave your parents’ side, when your father grabbed your wrist and stopped you.
“Where are you going?” He asked, harshly.
“To see my champion!” You answered him.
“Absolutely not,” your father shook his head. “You are coming with me to meet with The Lannister brothers,” he told you and both you and your mother widened your eyes at him.
“Father… Ser Gwayne has won the tournament… Fairly,” you pointed out.
“You said that the winner would have (Y/N)’ hand in marriage,” your mother reminded him.
“It was never officially announced, was it?” He barked at the both of you. “It was just a rumour.”
“Do you want to enrage The Hand of The King by disrespecting his son? Do you want to enrage The Queen herself by disrespecting her brother?” You asked him.
Your father let go of your wrist but he kept staring at you with anger and resentment in his eyes.
“Why did you want The Lannisters to win so badly?” You asked him. “To the point of letting them play it dirty and cheat?” You continued as your mother’s eyes were widening. “I have overheard your conversation on the first day while taking a stroll between the tents like you had forbidden me to,” you admitted. “Why, father?”
“My Lord Husband?” Your mother asked him, enraged by what she had just heard.
“Perhaps you have also overheard the part where I was saying that the tournament is a nice show-off,” he explained.
“I do understand why you threw the tournament. The question was not about that,” you raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms.
“Wealth,” was all he said after a short silence.
“And… that’s it?” You asked, disappointed.
Your father nodded and looked away.
“Wealth and splendour. An alliance between The Tyrells and The Lannisters would be a powerful one. And their treasure is big,” he added.
You opened your mouth to say something but you had no words.
“Your foolish sisters!” He continued as he raised his voice suddenly. “One married some Dornish lesser Lord and the other went up North to marry a knight in The Vale! The Ladies of House Tyrell! I should have been creating powerful alliances with you, foolish girls, but, no, all of you know better! All of you!” He yelled at you as your mother began to calm him down.
“I would never marry a man without an honour like Lord Jason Lannister,” you only said. “A cheater who plays dirty by using his brother because he knows very well that he would lose his very first combat if it was him down there,” you finished.
Without any other word, you hurried downstairs to run up to Ser Gwayne’s tent. His squire was working on removing his armour off of his body and you approached him to cup his bruised face splashed with blood.
“Ser Gwayne…” You started and then you swallowed thickly and looked down, remembering your encounter with him from the previous evening and the things you had been thinking of at night.
“Lady Tyrell,” he nodded at you with a smile.
“Are you alright, Ser? What has gotten into you to take the helmet off?” You asked as you dared to look up again, right into his blue eyes.
“It was limiting my view,” he answered. “I am alright, my Lady, no need to worry about me.”
“Are you always that irresponsible, Ser?” You asked yet another question. After all, it was important to know if he was supposed to be your Lord Husband.
“Never, my Lady. But it was rather an important combat, was it not?” He raised an eyebrow at you and you smiled widely at him.
You let go of his face as you took a few steps back to let his squire continue his work with the armour.
“I shall leave you now,” you nodded. “Thank you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Tyrell,” Ser Gwayne bowed his head slightly as he watched you walking out of his tent.
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There was a feast again on that evening but instead of being with the guests, your father was locked in the library with Ser Gwayne, discussing the unofficial prize of the tournament – your hand in marriage.
You were pacing around the corridor, all dolled up for the party in a pastel pink dress but with no interest to walk down and participate in the celebrations. You were afraid that your father would be rude to Ser Gwayne or scare him off, so you wanted to be around just in case you needed to put out some fire.
At first, you had chosen Ser Gwayne Hightower to be your champion simply to annoy your father and to avoid showing any favours to Lord Jason Lannister. But as the time progressed – especially after last night… – you just wanted to become Ser Gwayne’s wife. You would still live in The Reach and have your mother quite close but at the same time you’d be away from your father and his constant remarks of remaining unmarried despite your age.
Oldtown was an important place on the map of Westeros and you would be The Queen’s sister-in-law. Your father would be foolish to choose Lannister's gold over that honour.
The doors opened finally and you saw your father who was visibly surprised at the sight of you nervously pacing outside the library.
“Are you curious or nosy, dear daughter?” He asked you with his eyebrow raised.
“Perhaps both,” you answered.
“Either way,” your father shrugged, taking a step aside and revealing Ser Gwayne standing behind him, “that is not a problem of mine to deal with anymore,” he finished. “Disciplining her might be a challenge,” he chuckled at Ser Gwayne.
“With all respect, Lord Tyrell, I am not Lady (Y/N)’s father to discipline her,” Ser Gwayne nodded at him and approached you to hold your hands in his as he looked at your face. “We are going to get married, my Lady,” he announced to you and you smiled widely at him, feeling a huge wave of relief washing all over you. Relief, happiness and… excitement.
“When?!” Was all you asked before looking at your father’s face. He seemed to watch you carefully but wasn’t as displeased as before, right after the tournament.
“Ser Gwayne is running Oldtown in the name of his father so he must return there immediately tomorrow morning,” your father answered. “We will escort you to him for the wedding once all the preparations are finished. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.”
“A few weeks?!” You whined. “How am I supposed to wait for so long?”
Ser Gwayne chuckled at that and so did your father as you felt your cheeks heating up.
“You have been waiting for so long to get married, my dear, you can surely hold off a few weeks more,” your father pointed out.
But he didn’t understand. Now, when you actually wanted to become a wife and found a man worthy enough to be called your Lord Husband, you didn’t want to wait a day longer. However, being whiny about it would only make you look childish and desperate.
“I shall wait then,” you sighed and looked down in defeat.
“And I shall prepare The Hightower for your arrival, my Lady,” Ser Gwayne nodded at you. “What is your favourite colour, may I ask, my Lady, just so I know how to tell my people to decorate your new chambers?”
“It’s green, Ser Gwayne,” you answered with a soft smile. “Green and yellow like the colours of my house.”
“Something tells me we are going to be an excellent match,” Ser Gwayne smirked at your answer with a wink.
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MASTERLIST
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