#concentrated-mug-of-me

[cor-is-a-mess]

hi cor hi cor hi hi hi hi (one month until mitski album and i do not know peace)

thomas oh my god hi hi hi hi!!!!! (explodes and explodes and explodes and expl

[fraseris]

everyone: spotify is down 😭😭😭

me walking outside at school listening to my downloaded music in google drive: whats going on

google drive... of all music storing conventions... google drive...

[gender-void-partially-stars]

my experience in a real analysis class (send help i havent even met any TAs bc they insist on holding help sessions during my other class times)

yeah. sigh.

[violet-ram]

Late birthday art for @garaks-padded-bra :3. luxurious robe garak with morning tea

[spider-man-2o99]

do u think miguel has 2 deal with stinky bitter venombreath in th mornings... how could u even Try to cover that up. lord. miguel just inexplicably always carries around those specific extremely-flavored hard candies in his pockets like a Grandma in case of Emergencies bcuz the taste of mint is Overwhelming 2 him but now he seems like even MORE of a cryptid to the people around him who don't Know About the whole Spider-Thing,,

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

she flew the motherplane directly into the world serve center and cuntagon

🎨: aconitte

[alagaisia]

To be fair, we do also do this with our own words in english.

Remember middle school when it really, really mattered if you liked someone or if you like liked them

settle this for me once and for all

is “chai” a TYPE of tea??! bc in Hindi/Urdu, the word chai just means tea

[the-californicationist]

he opens the mail

Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.

Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price

“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 

“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 

You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 

You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 

“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”

You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,

“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 

“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”

“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”

Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,

“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”

You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 

You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 

“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 

“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 

He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 

“Fuck me!” He shouted. 

“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”

“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”

Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.

“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”

She gasped, 

“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”

She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 

“You alright?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”

You nodded,

“Yeah, just in case.”

He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 

“Captain, are you okay?”

“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”

He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 

Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 

“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 

“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 

You inched closer to him,

“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”

“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 

You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,

“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”

His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 

You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,

“Ahh, careful.”

“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”

“No, doesn’t hurt.”

He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 

Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 

Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,

“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”

You escaped his jaws for a moment, 

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”

Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,

“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”

She sighed, typing something into her datapad,

“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”

She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,

“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”

Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 

“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”

Part 2

[fastandcarlos]

Forgotten Part : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: as the chance to be world champion becomes ever more likely, lando seems to forget about everything else in his world, including you

With the driver’s championship within touching distance, Lando found himself working harder than ever. He was determined to stay on Max’s tail and not let him runaway with the title, but all of that hard work meant that several other things in Lando’s life became neglected. 

One of those things was you. As you sat at home yet again to a cold dinner before you where Lando should’ve been sat, you found yourself wondering why you even bothered. It wasn’t the first time, and you knew it wasn’t going to be the last time either, Lando was making quite the habit of not showing up at home, or forgetting about the plans that you’d made. 

After your fifth attempt at calling Lando, you found yourself throwing the food into the bin. 

Each time your phone vibrated you leapt up and hoped that it would be something from Lando, but each time you were left with a disappointing response. A little over an hour later the door to your apartment opened, a tired looking Lando trudged through, barely looking up from his phone to acknowledge that you were there. 

“I’m going to head straight to bed, I’m done in,” he called out to you, immediately heading in the direction of your bedroom. 

“Do you want me to join you?” You offered. 

“I don’t mind,” he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the floor. 

You decided to give Lando a moment and let him get sorted before following him into the room. You knew he was tired, he worked hard for his dreams, but you were losing your patience trying to deal with whatever was happening with your relationship. 

“I didn’t think you’d join,” Lando commented as you closed the door. 

“I thought we could catch up,” you softly smiled. 

“Really? I just fancy going to sleep to be honest with you,” he told you, swapping his shirt. 

You bit your tongue, leaving Lando as he slid into the bed, deciding to leave the room. Little did Lando know though you didn’t return to that room for the rest of the night. 

The sound of Lando walking through the apartment woke you up the following morning, stretching up from where you laid on the sofa. You threw the blanket off of your frame as Lando took a seat on the chair beside you. 

His phone came out straight away as you groaned, looking to you in bemusement as to why you were making such a noise. 

“Is this where you slept last night?” He bluntly asked you. 

“Yeah, I thought you’d need the space,” you sighed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 

You wanted something, anything, from Lando in response, but all he could do was nod. There was no emotion on his face, no concern, just emptiness. 

“Are you not tired?” He quizzed, “it’s not nice on the sofa.” 

“I’m exhausted,” you shrugged, “but I guess that’s the sacrifice I’m willing to make for you.” 

“For me?” Lando scoffed, standing up with his empty mug. “I didn’t ask you to go and sleep on the sofa.” 

Your eyes rolled as Lando dismissed you, fully aware that he didn’t ask you to do it. But you wanted to. Simply to save yourselves the argument. 

Despite your best attempts to find an excuse not to, you found yourself in the paddock at Silverstone that weekend, forcing a supportive smile onto your face. If you asked Lando, you were sure he wouldn’t care whether you were there or not, but you wanted to at least show that you cared. 

To everyone else around you though, it was almost as if you and Lando didn’t know each other anymore. He barely spoke to you, fully concentrated on his car from the moment that he walked into the paddock to the moment he left. 

As you sat in your hotel that night, you were surprised when Lando took a seat beside you on the bed, looking at him slightly in disbelief. 

“How was your day?” You asked, a weak smile on your face. 

“Yeah...good,” Lando responded, not even looking across at you. 

A sigh escaped, “anything to add to that?” 

There was a moment before Lando spoke up again, “not really, just got to wait and see what happens tomorrow I suppose.” 

Your head hung low, “is that really all that you can give me?” 

Lando’s eyes reluctantly looked across at you, “I don’t know what else you want me to say, that’s how my day was.” 

As you sat with Lily the following day in the McLaren garage, you found yourself staring at Lando in disbelief as once again he walked right past you. Your heart sunk as Oscar quickly jogged over and pressed a kiss to the top of Lily’s head to greet her. 

“Are you alright?” Lily asked once the boys were out of the way, noticing the way your eyes followed Lando with a glimmer of hope. 

Your head shook in response to her, “I don’t know what to do anymore.” 

You were fed up of being ignored, whilst you didn’t expect a song and a dance from Lando, you at least wanted to feel acknowledged. Whilst his career was always important to him, you felt as if your relationship didn’t even compare anymore. 

Lily’s hand rested against your shoulder, “it’s not fair that he’s doing this to you right now, you don’t deserve any of this.” 

Whilst you took a moment to compose yourself, Lily pulled out her phone. You were unsure as to what she was doing, but whatever it was must’ve been important as she hurriedly typed away. 

Her message went straight to Oscar who was sat with Lando in his driver’s room playing on the Xbox. It wasn’t just Lily who had made observations over the past few weeks, Oscar was all too aware too and knew that he needed to step in and help you out too. 

As the day went on, you carried on as if everything was fine. However, after the race you were surprised to see Lando walking over to your table where you sat in hospitality, patiently waiting for Lando to appear.  

Your eyes only looked up when Lando took a seat opposite you, surprised to see him there. He had a soft smile on his face, knowing that he had quite a bit of making up to do after the stern conversation he’d had with Oscar earlier in the day. 

“Do you want to head off?” You questioned, scrambling to put all your things in your bag, not wanting to leave Lando waiting. 

As you stood up, he took a hold of your hand and pulled you back down so that you were still sat at the table. “Love, just stay here a moment.” 

The sudden endearment from Lando made your body flutter, surprised to hear it from him. It had been a long time since Lando had shown you any sort of affection, but now he sat, refusing to let your hand slip out of his own as he tried his best to encourage your eyes to look across at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I’ve been such a terrible boyfriend recently; all I’ve focused on has been work and I’ve completely forgotten to think about you. You’re everything to me, and yet I’ve made you feel like you mean absolutely nothing.” 

Your eyes flickered up as Lando fell silent, finally seeing a bit of emotion in his expression again. “I’ve felt like a nobody Lando, I’ve kept on trying for so long to be there for you but you’ve given me nothing in response.” 

His head nodded, knowing exactly where he had gone wrong. “You’ve been nothing but the kind, compassionate, understanding girl that I fell in love with. I was so naive to it all when I should’ve been thanking you for all that you do and showing you just how much I appreciate it all.” 

Lando squeezed your hand gently as your free hand wiped underneath your eyes. “I’m always your number one fan Lando, I’m so proud of how well you’re doing this year but I worry where your priorities are. Is this what I can expect for the next few years whilst ever you’re competitive in the championship?” 

Lando’s eyes widened at your question, his head shaking rapidly. “Absolutely no way, you’re always going to be my number one priority. I’ve missed what we used to be over the past few weeks, I got my head so wrapped up in work I completely forgot everything else that was around me.” 

Lando stood up from where he was sat and knelt down beside you, moving his arm around your frame. He was tentative as he moved, relieved however when rather than push him away, you placed your hand over the top of his.  

“This needs to change Lando,” you reminded him, “we can’t carry on like this. If you’re going to reprioritise then you need to make sure you do, otherwise I don’t know how much longer can continue.” 

“Everything is going to change,” he insisted, his voice wavering nervously. “I can’t risk losing you, I wouldn’t be in this position right now if it wasn’t for you and all the things that you do for me.” 

“You’re here because of your talent Lando.” 

“That’s not true,” he told you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “How many times have you picked me up when I’ve been down? Or helped me when I’ve not been able to find the answer? That’s the reason why I’m here.” 

“And I’ll continue to cheer for you to stay here, as long as you do the same for me,” you whispered. 

“I will, I promise,” Lando assured you, “I love you too much to lose you now.” 

“I love you too Lan.”  

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[ramirezmindset]

ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇ.

ᴛʏʟᴇʀ ᴏᴡᴇɴs x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

→ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: yourself and tyler go way back, further than you'd like to admit, but after a brutal end, it's been years since you've spoken. until one night when your roommate brings him home.

→ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANNNNGGSSSSTTTT, talks of fighting and yelling, reader and tyler having history, use of feminine pronouns and description, awkward asl atmosphere, sexual implication, longing, flashbacks will be in italics. ↳ wc: 4671 (not sorry)

→ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this came to me when i was sat on the couch with MY roommates hahahaahah - requests are open!

↳ ❝ [ i shouldn't have called, cause we shouldn't speak. you do make me hard, but she makes me weak - save all the jokes you're gonna make, while i see how much drink i can take. then be my mistake ] ❞

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"Y/N, Emmie just texted me, she's found a male at the bar and he's coming back here" Your roommate Caroline slaps a hand over her mouth, biting back a laugh as you shake your head and chuckle. "I knew we should've joined her, but for some reason you refuse to go into that bar!"

"Carol, you know why I don't go there!" You scoff back, a playful smile on your face. You put the teaspoon in the sink and take a sip of the tea you just made, pushing a mug over the kitchen island to where Caroline sits. "I know that he tends to go there a lot and I just- I don't really want to be bumping into him and getting all weird and sad when I'm supposed to be having fun with my best girls"

"Yeah, yeah, Tyler this, Tyler that" You give her a disapproving look. "Ok, I'm sorry, that was rude. But I'm serious, Y/N, it's been four years. We never even met the guy, or even saw a photo! Surely if you were that spent on keeping him locked up in that little brain of yours for your eyes only, it can't have been that serious?"

"Oh, it was serious!" You defend, laughing and holding up your arms in mock offence. Carol wraps the blanket tighter around herself and leads you towards the couch, settling with her cup of tea, urging you to sit in front of her. "It was on and off like a strobe light, but I was crazy about him. And as far as I know, he was crazy about me. We just didn't mesh well. I mean, we had been together since we were fifteen, we grew out of each other, I guess"

"But you still have a photo of him in your wallet?" Your eyes widen at this statement, your face growing pale. "Relax, girl, I went in there to put your Costco card back and I saw a photo of some guy from the back. I assume it was him anyway and not some secret guy you've been hiding from us"

You bury your face in your hands in embarrassment, chuckling lowly to yourself. "That's Tyler alright"

"Y/N/N, will you just get in the truck?" Tyler said, holding his hand out for you to take. "Please?" You could never resist those puppy dog eyes, the one's you fell in love with all those years ago.

You smile at him, taking his hand and letting him lead you down the stairs of the porch towards his beat up old truck. Opening the door for you, he helps you climb in, a smile plastered across both your faces.

"Ty, where are you taking me?" You laugh, shaking your head at him as he just winks and shuts the door behind him, walking round the truck to slide into the drivers side.

"Now what would I gain from ruining the surprise, hm?" He turned the keys in the ignition and sped off down the dirt track of your parent's ranch, but instead of turning off onto the freeway, he heads in a different direction.

Deciding not to question him, you sigh and lean back into the headrest, staring at his side profile as he concentrates on the road. The furrow of his eyebrows, the clench in his jaw when he hits a particularly rocky piece of track, the slight smirk that flicks at the corner of his mouth when a song he likes plays on the radio.

"What are you staring at, pretty lady?" He jokes, glancing over at you and placing a hand on your thigh. "Something got your attention, hm?"

"Just my gorgeous boyfriend" You smile once again, interlocking your fingers with his hand that rests on your leg. "Thinking about how lucky I am to have such a beautiful man that loves me and drives me around and surprises me and buys me flowers and doesn't let me spend a dime."

"Yeah, you are pretty lucky" You both erupt into a fit of laughter as the truck pulls to a stop. He takes his hand off your thigh to take the keys out of the ignition and hops out the truck to open your door. "Here we are"

You look around you, confusion etching your features. "Tyler, this is the woods" He tuts at you.

"I knew you would say that. Just come with me" He takes your hand, leading you into the trees down a makeshift trail that's been made through hikers over the years. "You maybe know about this place, you maybe don't. I'm hoping don't"

You're walking for about 15 minutes before he tells you to close your eyes, grabbing your other hand to help you balance and show you the way. "Tyler, I am going to die out here!" You joke as you stumble over what feels like a branch.

"Relax, oh my Christ!" He laughs back, he pulls you into a stop as you find your feet on somewhat smooth ground. "Ok, keep your eyes closed. No peeking!" He lets go of both your hands and you feel him walk away, the crunch of his feet getting slightly further away before coming to a stop.

You take a deep breath, you arms still held out to the side slightly to keep your balance on the unfamiliar terrain.

"Ok, open" You open your eyes to find yourself on a wide cliffside at the edge of the woods, a picnic blanket sprawled out a few feet away from you where Tyler stood, and a basket full of what looks like all your favourite foods. A bottle of wine and two glasses sit comfortably on the blanket, and the city lights from below you glittered as the sun set below the peaks of the mountains miles away.

"Tyler, this is-" You place a hand on your heart, and you move your eyes to meet his, slowly walking towards where he was standing. "Tyler, this is incredible" You put your arm around his waist, pulling him in closely as you admire the intricacy of the set up. He places a kiss to your temple.

"I thought considering I'm leaving tomorrow for that storm, we could have a nice final date" He smiles, letting you go to sit down on the blanket.

"Nice?!" You exclaim, feigning offence. "Tyler, this is more than nice. This is perfect"

"Only the best for my girl" He winks, reaching for the wine and the corkscrew. "Now are you gonna sit down and enjoy this picnic with me, or are you gonna stand there staring?" He jokes again, fiddling about with the wine.

Before he could pester you again, you reach into your bag for your polaroid camera, an old thing Tyler got you for your seventeenth birthday that travels in your bag with you everywhere. Snapping a photo of him from behind, sat on the picnic blanket, the sun creating a silhouette of his frame, and all you could think in the moment was how beautiful he was, and how beautiful this could be.

"Earth to Y/N!" Caroline snaps her fingers from the couch opposite you. You flick back to reality, shaking your head and sheepishly apologising. "You OK?"

"Yeah!" You reply a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a bit tired"

"Do you mean tired or Tyler?" Caroline giggles as you half-heartedly fling a throw pillow in her direction. "Sorry, sorry! But seriously girl, it's been this long and he's still on your mind? He must've had you whipped, you haven't even been on a date since!"

"Yes I have!" You defend, placing your tea down on the coffee table and crossing your legs under your blanket.

"Fucking some guy on the gross sinks of the club handicap stall is not a date" She got you there. Suddenly, you hear the front door open, and Emmie's laughter echo around the hallway. "Christ, here she comes" Caroline sits up on the couch and fixes her hair, as if Emmie and her mystery man would come in the room anyway.

You were proven extremely wrong when the door is pushed open and your second roommate strolls in, three beers in hand. She throws one at you and one at Caroline, using her foot to keep the door open.

"I come bearing gifts!" Emmie exclaims, holding her own beer in her hands as you try biting the lid off the beer open. "We're gonna chill in here for a bit with you guys, Tyler's just taking his shoes off"

"Who?!" Caroline exclaims, as you choke on your own breath. "Who is gonna chill in here for a bit?" She looks between the two of you as you scramble on the couch to find the missing beer cap.

Confusion etches across Emmie's face, staring at you as you frantically sit back up, pushing your glasses back up your nose. "Oh shit!" She exclaims, her eyes widening in realisation. "Oh shit!"

"Oh shit what?" that all to familiar voice asks from behind her as he strolls into the living room, making eye contact with Caroline before turning towards you. His eyes grow wide, his hands immediately reaching to take his hat off and hold it to his chest. The hat that you bought him. That stupid, stupid hat that you spent a stupid, stupid amount of money on, but somehow all seemed worth it to see that stupid, stupid smile on his stupid, stupid face.

It seemed like forever that he was staring into you before Caroline broke the silence by clearing her throat. "Um, it's nice to meet you, Tyler. How are you, Tyler? What's going on, Tyler?" She raises her eyebrows at him, as you shoot her a glare.

"Uh- yeah, I'm good, you must be Caroline" He finally tears his eyes away from you to spare an awkward, tight-lipped smile. A familiar gut-wrenching embarrassment fills your body as you look down at your lap as it hits you that your ex-boyfriend is in your apartment, with the intention of fucking your best friend, and you're sat on the couch in your pyjama's drinking tea at 10pm on a Saturday night.

Emmie awkwardly sits on the couch next to Caroline, slipping her shoes off and mouthing a 'Sorry', reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone.

I'm so sorry, she texts you. I had no idea that was the Tyler, I'm gonna ask him to leave, tell him I don't feel well. I'm so sorry

You reply: you don't have to do that, i'm just gonna take myself off to bed

No this is my mess, Emmie's next text reads. I'll sort it all out.

Tyler's still standing awkwardly in the doorway as you launch yourself off of the couch and into the kitchen, pouring your beer down the sink out of pure humiliation. He still wore the same cologne, you could smell the sandalwood on his skin as you pushed past him, his warm flesh brushing against the bare skin of your arm. He still had that same look in his eyes all those years ago when he looked at you, that one of adoration.

You rub your eyes and look out the kitchen window of your apartment at the city lights, the rain pattering slowly against the glass panes as you sigh and lean your back against the counter. It was almost like mother nature was mocking you, laughing in your face as the memories of your last meeting with Tyler flooded your mind.

"Baby, just come back inside, we can talk!" He bellowed from his porch. "It's storming, Y/N, just come inside!"

You continue down his front path as the rain and hail slammed on the pavement. You didn't know what you were doing, your house was a forty-five minute walk from Tyler's place, but you knew you'd regret it if you gave in. Suddenly, his hand grabbed your bicep from behind, twisting you around. He saw your bloodshot eyes and puffy lips and immediately his features softened.

"Darlin', I'm sorry, please just come inside and we can talk it all out" His palm came up to cradle the side of your face, and you had to fight the urge to lean into his warm, tender touch.

"There's nothing to talk about, Tyler" You replied, shaking your head. Another tear rolled down your cheek, unrecognisable as the rain hammered down on your head. "You made your choice, let me make mine"

Tyler's eyebrows furrowed. "My choice? I choose you! I always chose you, I will always choose you!" His hand left your face, falling limp at his side.

"Tell that to Boone" You shook you head. "Tell that to everyone on that stupid fucking tornado chasing team! That's what you'd rather be doing!" He scoffs, wiping a hand down his face. "What? It's true! All I've done for the last decade is support you, I let you go off and do whatever it is you do in that stupid truck, I supported you in college when you didn't have a clue what you were gonna do with your life, I came with you on chases even though I fucking hate thunder, and I hate the danger, I do everything for you! And what do I get?"

"You get to be with me!" He cut you off, you were both yelling now, drawing attention from the neighbours as lights in the houses around you slowly turned on. "Isn't that enough? Am I not enough?"

"Don't you dare turn this on me!" You turn your back on him, wiping your face. You're too far in to let him see you cry. "Tyler, of course you're enough. I'm in love with you, I have been for ten years, but all I do in this relationship is hurt. I don't feel loved, I feel like you're not satisfied until you've got your adrenaline fix on some tornado hundreds of miles away from you. Am I supposed to sit on the porch knitting, waiting for you to show back up? God forbid my boyfriend cares about me and what I want!"

"If that's how you feel, maybe we shouldn't be together!" He exclaims, his hands flying into the air as the rain beats down harder and harder.

"Maybe we shouldn't!" Your shoulders slump as you stare at him, the hurt in his eyes clouding over as any ounce of hope he had in his body to remedy this is blown away by the wind and washed away by the rain. "We're not fifteen anymore, Tyler. I can't keep doing this, I can't keep hoping and praying that you'll come back to me alive. I just can't."

"Hey" Emmie's voice sounds behind you. You turn your head towards the kitchen door, where she's shutting it behind her. "I told Tyler I wasn't feeling well, and if I'm honest, he couldn't get out of here fast enough" She awkwardly chuckles and walks over to you, giving you a hug. "I'm so sorry, Y/N/N, I didn't know that was your Tyler. I would've never have spoken to him, let alone brought him home if I knew-"

"Emmie, relax" You reply, a dry laugh leaving your throat. "It's fine, there's no need to apologise. I was just shocked to see him, that's all. It's okay, I'm okay, I promise."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You climb out of the cab, Caroline and Emmie hot on your tail as the three of you link arms and giggle as you stumble towards the bar. The three bottles of wine you had in the refrigerator went down a treat as Emmie and Caroline coaxed you into drinking with them, and you let them convince you going to the bar that Tyler frequented was a fabulous use of your time.

It had been two weeks since your encounter with him, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't all you thought about. The look on his face, the smell of his skin and that goddamned hat that he still refused to part with all these years later.

You'd spent the majority of the past few weeks reminiscing on the relationship, thinking about what everything was and what it could've grown into. Where would you be today? On your own ranch, like your parents, but bigger, and would you finally have gotten that ring, maybe a couple of kids? Even today, when you pictured your future, it was always with him by your side.

The atmosphere in the bar was lively, music blasting out of the jukebox as you had to elbow your way to the bar for a drink. Your eyes take a scan of the room, but he wasn't in sight. A twang of disappointment struck you, as if you would've approached him anyway.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asks, but before you could open your mouth, someone responds for you.

"Black label, on the rocks" Tyler slides up beside you, the slight redness in his eyes indicating he was just as buzzed as you were. "Hey" He rests his elbow on the bar, passing the bartender his card and shooting you a smile.

He looked somewhat the same, his shoulders were broader and his smile no longer reached his eyes, but he was still your Tyler. The mischievous glint in his eye was gone, and he had grown some stubble, even with all the differences he was still just as charming as he was all those years ago.

"Hi" you reply, taking your drink from his hand and throwing it all down.

"Woah, slow down there, cowgirl" He laughed, his old nickname for you making shivers run up your spine. You glanced over your shoulder to find Emmie and Caroline, but they had scuttled off to a dark corner of the bar, no doubt to watch this interaction.

You had never felt more awkward in your life. All of a sudden the top you thought was cute three hours ago is too much for the atmosphere you're in, and your makeup is too perfect to be ruined by the tears that would inevitably fall within the next fifteen minutes.

Tyler nods his head towards the door, taking your hand delicately in his as he led you to the deck of the bar. Sparks shot up your arm and through your body at his gentle touch, his grasp far from firm, as if you were glass that would shatter. You follow him out and perch at an empty table overlooking the street.

"How are you?" He asked, looking at you, as if he could see inside your brain. You stare back, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm fine" You reply, nervously licking your lips and twiddling your fingers on your lap. This is so fucking awkward.

He gives you a knowing look. "No, you're not" He looks away from you and wipes his face with his hand, something he always did to stop himself from crying. "I know you're not, because I haven't been fine since we broke up. And we're cut from the same cloth, you and me, we've been interlinked since we met"

You were sat on the back porch of your parents ranch. It was a sweltering summers day, sweat licking at your skin as you shifted uncomfortably in the deck chair. Your friend Hannah was over, bringing a bottle of some sort of dark liquor with her as she sat next to you, pouring you both another glass.

"Say, when is your brother gonna be home?" She smirked at you as you playfully swatted her arm. "What!? He's hot!"

"Hannah, behave!" You laughed. "But it should be any minute now" You winked at her, reaching for your glass. Usually you wouldn't condone any of your friends getting with your twin brother, but Hannah had liked him for years and you kind of just wanted her to shut up.

As if on cue, the french doors of the patio slid open and your brother walked onto the porch, grabbing Hannah's glass and downing whatever concoction she had made for herself. She playfully giggled, and the sight made you sick to your stomach, but you laughed along anyway.

"Hello, Hannah" Your brother gave her her glass back before turning to you and grimacing. "Hello....thing...."

"Hello, ugly" you responded, pulling your sunglasses on top of your head and sitting up properly to face him. "Why did you have to come out here and ruin my time with my friend?"

"Um, it's hot, you fucking idiot, and the AC is broken, so Tyler and I are gonna chill out here. I see you have liquor, so we're gonna be enjoying that just as much as you are" He pulled up a chair opposite Hannah, so close to her that their knees touched. You wished he'd swallow his pride and make the first move, because you knew damn well Hannah wouldn't.

"Tyler?" Hannah asked, her eyebrows furrowing. "Who's Tyler?"

"I am" he said from behind you, a shadow was cast over your face as he moved to stand next to you. You looked up, and there he was, the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, and probably would ever see. "And you must be Y/N?" You nodded. "I've heard a lot about you"

"Good things I hope" You joke, a laugh bubbling out your throat as your brother clears his throat. "But if they're coming from my brother, I can't imagine it's anything but slander"

You all erupt into laughter, and that was it. After that day, Tyler never left your side.

You lean back into your chair, avoiding eye contact with Tyler. He wasn't lying, you two were eerily similar, and he'd always been the one person, aside from your brother, who could read you like a book. There was no denying your souls were hand crafted for each other.

"How's your brother?" He asks, a lame attempt at conversation.

"I thought you would know" You turned to look at him. "He married Hannah a few months ago. I was half expecting to see you there"

Tyler shook his head. "Corey hasn't spoken to me since we broke up. I think he's angry I broke his sister's heart"

Your lips form a tight line. "What do you want from me Tyler? Have you dragged me out here away from my friends to make pointless small talk or did you have anything of value to say to me?"

"Is it so wrong to want to talk to you?" He asks again, hurt brushing over his features before he regained composure. You roll your eyes and stand up, making your way back into the bar. Before you could walk in, Caroline runs over and slams the door to the deck shut in front of you, Emmie furiously pointing at Tyler, mouthing "fucking talk to him!"

You sigh in defeat and turn around to see Tyler smiling, shading his eyes from the heat lamp burning down on his skin.

"Guess you have no choice" He joked. "But I can't talk to you knowing your roommates are staring at us"

"Well, what do you propose?" You asked, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. You were not leaving the bar with him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You left the bar with him. You found yourself strolling down the street, buying a case of beer from the gas station and suddenly, twenty minutes later, you were sat on the cliffside Tyler took you to years ago, moderately buzzed from the mixture of beer and hard liquor.

"I still carry your photo in my wallet" You admit, looking at him on the other side of the bench. "The one I took of you here, in this exact spot, when you made us a picnic before you left on a chase"

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't done the same thing" He reached into his pocket and pulled a polaroid out of his own wallet. It was crumpled and faded, but you could still make out your own face in the moonlight, smiling up at the camera, eyes squeezed shut with Tyler's hat adorning your head. You laughed to yourself.

You settled into a comfortable silence, the subtle admission of lost love still hanging in the air, weighing down on you.

"Why?" He asked. You looked back at him. "Why did you keep it?"

"Why did you?" You retaliate, raising an eyebrow at him in suspicion.

"Why do you think?" He sighed and shuffled ever so slightly closer to you. "I remember when you broke up with me you told your brother I was the biggest mistake of your life. He came banging my front door down, probably ready to beat me to a pulp. I would've let him. But as soon as he told me that- as soon as he told me that you said I was a mistake, every bit of anger in me just dissipated. I was in love with you, hell, I am in love with you, and all I could do was question how I managed to fuck up so bad that our decade together felt like a mistake to you."

"You were never a mistake, Tyler" You whisper softly, choosing to ignore the fact he just admitted his love for you all these years later. "I was mad, mad that I let go so easily, and it was easier to blame you than admit that I broke up with you over something so- so mundane"

He had moved closer to you, his thigh pressing against yours on the bench as he leant down to put his empty beer bottle on the floor. He sat back up, putting one arm around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. You fit in the crook of his neck like a missing piece of a puzzle, and a satisfied sigh left your lips.

"Tyler?" You say, he hums in response. "You're in love with me?"

His shoulders tense as he sucks in a sharp breath. Maybe you should've continued to ignore it.

"Of course I am" he replies softly, lifting your head up and cupping your jaw. Finally, you lean into his touch, a smile tugging at your lips. "I have been for fourteen years. I could never love anyone like I love you, you're it for me"

You stare at him, allowing yourself to fall deeply into his gaze. His features had considerably softened since you first saw him in the bar. The glint of hope in his eyes had returned, and the crease in his brow has gone. The slow breeze pushed his hair slightly back, and you had to resist the urge to run your hands through his blonde locks.

He was slowly leaning in, and before you knew it, your eyes were fluttering shut as you felt his lips lightly graze yours. His other hand found the other side of your face, cradling you like you were the most precious jewel. Your hand instinctively goes up to hold his wrist, his skin rough against your palm.

"Can I- can I kiss you?" He whisper's against your mouth. You nod.

His lips finally pressed against yours, gentle and full of years of love. He tasted the same as he always did, the distinct flavour of vanilla from his chapstick he carried around in his back pocket. His lips slotted against yours perfectly as your arms made their way around his neck. For the first time in years, you felt at peace.

Tyler reluctantly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. "What do you say?" He whispered. "Be my mistake."

[fraseris]

you cleaning out your inbox has earned me so much flack for storing my music in google drive :(

its not even the storing it for me. its the playing it. streaming it right from your evil google drive. who lives like this

[gender-void-partially-stars]

there is nothing explicity gay about the barbie movie the conservatives lied to us :(

LOTS of queer subtext though :) (they said ace barbie rights so absolute win)

ya i thought so i didnt watch it but i read the wikipedia synopsis

[igotanidea]

Hands skills: Jason Todd x reader

Warning: suggestive, but not explicit :D

***

Y/N didn;t say a single word when Jason picked up pottery. She thought it would be good for him to have a hobby apart from vigilantism and that it would keep his mind occupied with something other than crime, fighting and desperation.

Smiling, nodding and appreciating him every time he brought home something he made himself, no matter if it was a crooked vase or an impossible-to-drink-from mug.

Y/N didn;t say a single word when he started playing the guitar. It was kinda nice and she hoped that having to suffer through the initial stage of out-of-tune ripping would pay off in the long term.

Y/N didn;t say a single word when she noticed Jason working out on his calligraphy skills, though that was a bit surprising. It wasn't like he was writing that much after all. But she was okay with it, as long as it brought him a smile.

But when one day she came home and saw him with a needle, trying to embroider, she couldn't hold back.

"What is with all the hobbies, Jason? I swear you did like seven activities in the last three months. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's perfect..." he muttered, sticking his tongue out in the form of concentration, trying to maneuver the needle and form a particularly complicated pattern.

"Then why--"

"Oh, princess, come on. Can;t you see what I'm doing here?" he put the floss down and looked at her with a teasing smirk.

"Um, nope?" Y/N frowned in confusion, not getting where he was heading with that joke.

"I'm practicing my hands, sunshine."

"Practicing your- Whatever for?" for a moment her confusion was only growing,

"You."

"Me?"

"What, did you think I was actually enjoying embroidery? Please." Jason rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

oh... oh damn, he was working on his hands skills.

For her.

And that very night, she experienced for herself that suffering through Jason's everchanging hobbies paid off.

He did improve his hands skills.

Significantly,  

[chosok-amo]

HYPOTHETICALLY, UPS?... : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you chuckle softly, your eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “hypothetically, you should propose to me properly,” you tease, enjoying the light-heartedness of the moment.

m.list | wc. 7,6k

you wake up groggily, the dim light of the moon casting a faint glow through the curtains. instinctively, you reach out to either side, expecting to feel the warm presence of your boyfriends, but all you find is cold sheets. the emptiness is unsettling, and a sense of unease creeps in as you realize they haven’t been in bed for a while.

sitting up, you rub your eyes, trying to shake off the drowsiness. you glance at the clock on the nightstand—2 a.m. your heart races a little faster as you wonder where they could be at this hour. you toss the blanket aside, the chill of the room biting at your skin as you slide out of bed.

you step out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes, and follow the faint glow coming from the living room. as you quietly approach, you see them both sitting on the floor, the soft light of the laptop casting shadows across their faces. paperwork is spread out across the coffee table, and they’re deeply engrossed in their work, brows furrowed in concentration.

for a moment, you just stand there, watching them—gojo’s usually carefree expression is serious, his blue eyes focused intently on the screen, while geto’s calm demeanor hides a subtle tension as he scribbles notes on a document.

you smile softly, admiring their dedication, but the late hour makes you worry. taking a few steps closer, you break the silence with a gentle, drowsy, “baby, why are you two still awake?”

they both look up, startled by your voice, their focused expressions softening when they see you. “oh, did we wake you?” gojo asks, his tone apologetic as he leans back, running a hand through his hair.

geto, always the quieter one, glances up from the laptop screen and reaches a hand out to you, gesturing for you to come closer. his tired eyes study your sleepy form as you walk over to him.

“sorry, baby,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap. “we didn't mean to wake you.” gojo, always the more animated one, lets out a soft sigh. the flicker of the laptop screen reflects in his eyes as he looks at you, “yeah, we're just... caught up in some work stuff.”

“no, you didn't wake me up,” you assure as you settle onto geto's lap, his arms wrap around your stomach, holding you close. the warmth of his touch brings comfort to your grogginess, and you lean back against his chest, savoring his presence.

gojo watches the two of you with a slightly envious expression before he shakes it off, returning his focus to the laptop. “it's just some last-minute paperwork we've been putting off.” geto shifts beneath you, adjusting his position to make you more comfortable, his hand tracing absentminded patterns along your side.

“why don’t you wake me up?” you mumble sleepily, your voice barely above a whisper as you open your eyes and glance around the coffee table. your eyes land on the collection of empty coffee mugs scattered across the table and the floor. a sigh escapes you as you shake your head. “i could’ve made you some tea… you know i told you not to drink too much coffee, it’s not good for you.”

gojo chuckles softly, the sound filling the room. “and risk disturbing your beauty sleep? not a chance.” geto's thumb pauses its gentle rubbing on your hip, and he lets out a soft sigh. “we didn't want to bother you. we knew you had a long day.” gojo hums in agreement as he continues typing on the laptop, “yeah, and you looked so peaceful. besides, we needed the caffeine to finish this paperwork.”

their words reach you through the haze of sleep, but you’re too tired to protest much. instead, you slowly fold your legs up, curling into a smaller ball on geto’s lap, your cheek resting against your knee. “but i don’t mind,” you mumble, your eyes slipping shut as you speak. “i want to take care of you too…” your voice trails off, fading into a whisper as the exhaustion finally overtakes you.

gojo glances at you, noticing the way your eyes close and your body relaxes against geto. a small smile forms on his lips, and he lets out a sigh.

“she's falling back asleep.”

geto's arms instinctively tighten around you, holding you close against him. he can't help but let out a soft chuckle as he watches you. “she's always looking out for us, even when she's half-asleep.”

as you surrender to your drowsiness, your body slumps against your legs, curled up and barely unconscious on geto's lap. both their gazes soften as they take in your sleepy form. gojo looks up from the laptop, a tender expression on his face, while suguru gently brushes back a strand of hair from your forehead.

“look at you, princess,“ gojo coos, his voice is soft and tender. “you're too damn cute,” gojo murmurs, his voice filled with affection. he reaches out, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. geto presses a soft kiss to your temple, gently stroking your arm. “look at her. she wants to take care of us so badly but can't even fight her sleepiness,” geto softly murmured.

as gojo and geto watch you sleep with their affectionate gazes, they can't help but admire your determination to look out for them, even when you're dead tired.

gojo can't resist whispering another compliment, a fond smile on his face. “yeah, she's always trying to take care of us, even when she's half-gone.” geto's hand gently runs through your hair, his touch gentle as he speaks. “it's endearing, really. she's so stubborn, even when her body's begging for rest.”

suddenly, as if their words stirred something in you, your eyes flutter open. “i’m up, i’m up,” you mumble, blinking rapidly as you try to shake off the fog of sleep. your voice is still thick with drowsiness, and for a moment, you struggle to fully grasp where you are, your thoughts hazy.

both gojo and geto can't help but chuckle at your sleepy state. they know you're still half-asleep, but you're trying so hard to stay awake. gojo reaches out and pats your head gently, his fingers combing through your hair. “hey there, sleepyhead. you don't have to force yourself, you know.”

geto's arm around you tightens, pulling you even closer against his chest, “yeah, it's late. you should be getting your rest.”

despite their words, you shake your head stubbornly, eyes barely open as you mumble, “no, i’m not sleepy.” your voice is weak, and it’s clear to them—and probably even to you—that you’re fighting a losing battle against sleep.

geto can’t help but smile at your determination, his hand resuming its gentle stroking through your hair. “is that so?” he asks softly, the tenderness in his voice is unmistakable. “yeah,” you insist, though it comes out more as a sleepy mumble, your head already starting to droop again. you are looking at them with your eyes wide open, trying not to let them close this time.

both geto and gojo exchange an amused glance, aware of your losing battle with sleep but entertained by your stubbornness. giggling, gojo gently pokes your cheek. “you're so cute trying to stay awake, princess.” geto chuckles and his hand continues to gently comb through your hair, his touch soothing. “yeah, you're about as convincing as a koala right now. there's no way you're not tired.”

despite their teasing, you muster enough energy to push yourself up from geto’s lap. your movements are slow and deliberate as you head towards the kitchen. “i’m going to make you some tea, okay?” you say, your voice still thick with sleep but carrying a hint of determination.

suguru watches you with a mixture of affection and concern. “love, you don’t have to do that,” he calls after you, but there’s a soft smile on his face.

gojo props his elbows on the coffee table and sighs as he watches you shuffle towards the kitchen behind them. his eyes are full of affection and mild concern for your determination to stay awake and make them some tea.

“what are we going to do with her?” gojo asks, turning his gaze to geto, a hint of amusement in his voice. “she can barely stand, but she's hell-bent on making us tea.”

you’re so focused on preparing the tea that you don’t catch their exchange. you turn on the stove to boil water, moving with a sleepy but purposeful efficiency. you pull out their favorite tea blends, carefully measuring and preparing them according to their preferences. geto with his chamomile tea and gojo with his green tea.

as you work, your movements are slow but deliberate, and you manage a small, sleepy smile as you think of how pleased they’ll be with the tea. despite their earlier concerns, you’re determined to show them your appreciation in your own way.

as you diligently prepare the tea, gojo and geto watch you intently, their eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and concern. they've always found you endearing when you're sleepy, but they also worry about your well-being. “she's so stubborn,” gojo mumbles, shaking his head. “look at her, still trying to make us tea even though she's half-asleep.”

geto chuckles softly, a fond smile on his face. “yeah, she's always determined to take care of us, even when she's exhausted.”

once everything is ready, you return to the living room with the tea, your eyes heavy with sleep but a satisfied look on your face. you hand the cups to gojo and geto. “here you go,” you say, your voice a bit tired but filled with love. “i made your favorites.”

gojo and geto receive their cups with a mixture of gratitude and affection. their eyes light up as they take in the familiar aroma of their favorite tea. sipping the hot liquid, they exchange a look, silently appreciating your thoughtfulness despite your sleep-deprived state.

“thank you, love,” gojo coos, his words soft and sincere. geto adds with a smile, “you didn't have to go through all this trouble. you should be resting, not making tea.”

you respond by gently ignoring their concerns, your focus entirely on taking care of them. you head back to the kitchen, determined to follow through on your plan. when you return, you’re carrying a selection of snacks and sweets, specifically chosen for gojo to give his brain a much-needed boost.

“here, baby,” you say softly as you set the treats down in front of him. “i brought you some sweets. your brain must be tired from overwork.” you lightly touch his head, a tender gesture filled with care.

turning to geto, you offer him his favorite snack with a warm smile. “i also brought you your favorite snack. you must be hungry doing all this work.” you caress his cheek gently, your touch soothing and affectionate.

gojo's eyes widen with surprise and a hint of pride at your thoughtfulness. knowing how you're always looking out for their well-being, he can't help but smile affectionately. “you're too good to me. thanks, princess,” he murmurs, patting your hand gently.

geto glances up at you, his heart swelling with tenderness as you present him with his favorite snack. the simple act of you taking the time to prepare something just for him sends a wave of warmth through his chest. “thank you, sweetheart,” he says affectionately, his voice filled with gratitude.

as you settle down on the floor, taking a seat between them, both men can't resist the urge to touch you. gojo drapes his arm around your shoulder, pulls you closer against his chest. his hand gently strokes your hair, his touch a soothing and affectionate gesture. geto, on the other hand, reaches out, his hand finding its place on your thigh. his grip is gentle but firm, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin, a subtle show of possessiveness.

gojo looks at you, his eyes filled with adoration and a hint of mischief. he can't help but tease, “how did we get so lucky to have someone like you who's so attentive?” geto chuckles quietly, a soft smile on his face as he gazes at you. “yeah, we must have done something right to deserve you.”

you can't help but grin sheepishly as gojo pokes fun, the exhaustion evident on your face a stark contrast to the twinkle in your eyes. “or maybe i'm just a sucker for two handsome men,” you reply with a tired shrug, leaning into gojo's embrace. geto laughs softly at your response, his hand continuing its gentle tracing on your thigh. he shakes his head slightly, the fondness in his eyes evident.

gojo's arm tightens around you as you lean against him, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. his fingers tangle idly in your hair, the simple touch seemingly soothing to him as much as it is to you. “you're adorable, babe,” he teases, gently poking your cheek. “but we're the ones who really landed the jackpot here.” geto, ever the softer one, leans in to press a kiss to your temple. “you're too good to us,” he murmurs, the admiration in his voice unmistakable.

you let out a contented sigh, feeling the warmth of their affection. “if you need anything,” you say, your voice is still carrying a hint of sleepiness, “just tell me. i’ve still got some tea left if you want more.”

gojo's hand stops messing with your hair for a moment, and he glances down at you with a small smile. “you're too sweet, princess. but you should be the one resting, not us.” geto, never one to deny your care, chimes in with a nod. “he's right, baby. we appreciate it, but you need your beauty sleep more than we need more tea.”

you pout slightly, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. “why do you always won’t let me take care of you?” you ask, your voice carrying a hint of playful exasperation.

both men chuckle at your pout, unable to resist the cute, sleepy expression on your face. gojo pokes your cheek with a finger, a teasing smile on his lips. “oh, we do like it when you take care of us, princess. but we also want to take care of you, you know. but because it's our job to take care of you, princess, not the other way around.”

geto's hand on your thigh gives a gentle squeeze, his tone soft and affectionate. “you're always looking out for us. sometimes we just want to return the favor.” you look at gojo with a slightly wrinkled forehead, your eyes showing a mix of stubbornness and affection. “no, it’s a two-way street. we’re taking care of each other. doesn’t matter if i’m sleepy or not,” you insist, your voice firm but filled with warmth.

both men can't help but smile at your determination, finding your stubbornness endearing even in your sleepy state. gojo's finger pokes your forehead lightly, but his gaze is affectionate. “you really are too stubborn for your own good, princess.” geto's hand tightens slightly on your thigh, a silent display of affection. “we know it's a two-way street, but we also know you're tired. we can't help but worry about you when you're like this.”

you look up at them with pleading eyes, your voice taking on a softer tone. “please?” you ask, your gaze is earnest. “do i have to beg just because i want to take care of my boyfriends?”

gojo and geto exchange a look, their resolve weakening at your pleading eyes. neither can resist when you give them that look, knowing full well that you're pulling at their heartstrings. gojo lets out a dramatic sigh, his shoulders sagging. “ah, you know we can't say no when you look at us like that. alright, alright. we'll let you take care of us, princess.” geto chuckles, his expression fond. “you don't have to beg, sweetheart. we were just worried about you.”

you respond with a playful smirk, “well, maybe if you two just let me take care of you instead of worrying too much and trying to get me to sleep, your work might be almost done by now and we can go to sleep much faster.”

both men look at you with a mixture of amusement and affection. they know you have a point, but neither can resist the urge to tease you. gojo shakes his head, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “oh, so now you're telling us how to do our job, huh?” geto chuckles quietly, his hand gently squeezing your thigh again, “are you trying to boss us around, princess?”

you laugh a little, maintaining your bossy expression. “damn right i am,” you reply with a playful wink. “now go back to work, you peasants.”

both men can't help but chuckle at your feisty response, finding it endearing even as you try to act in charge. gojo pretends to pout, throwing one arm over his eyes in an exaggerated display of mock despair. “ah, how could you be so cruel, princess? treating us like lowly peasants.” geto can't resist joining in, feigning a melodramatic sigh. “oh, the injustice of it all. we're simply trying to look out for you, and here you are, commanding us like servants.”

despite their theatrics, both men are obviously amused by your playful banter. they know you're just being cheeky, and they can't help but find it endearing. gojo lowers his hand just enough to peer at you through his fingers, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. he speaks in a mock-whine, his voice exaggerated, “please, princess. have mercy. we'll do whatever you say, just spare us from your wrath.”

geto mirrors gojo's expression, his hand leaving your thigh to dramatically clutch his heart. he joins in the playful theatrics, his voice equally melodramatic. “we're but humble serfs in your presence,” he says, his eyes filled with mock pleading, “we beg you, princess, to be merciful and spare us the agony of your commands.”

gojo's lips twitch in amusement at geto's exaggerated plea. he leans in closer to you, his arm still draped over his eyes. “yeah, what he said. we'll do anything, just don't make us do any more work.”

geto chimes in next to you, his expression softening as he looks at you. “we'll bend to your every whim, just don't work yourself to exhaustion trying to take care of us.” you raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. “oh, really? well, if you’re going to be so accommodating, i might just have to start making some demands,” you tease, your tone sassy.

you lean in closer, giving them a mischievous grin. “first order of business: take a break and let me take care of you both properly. no more excuses.”

both men share an amused glance, their expressions equal parts playful and fond. they exchange a silent look, wordlessly agreeing to give in to your demands. gojo dramatically sighs, removing his arm from his eyes to look at you with mock resignation. “ah, you drive a hard bargain, princess. but if it's your command, who are we to resist.” geto chuckles softly, his hand once again resting on your thigh. “looks like you've got us whipped, sweetheart.”

gojo flops back against the couch cushions with exaggerated exhaustion. “so what's your plan, then? gonna give us a foot massage or something?” geto settles back into the couch, his arm still around you. he plays along, feigning a pitiful expression. “yeah, we're worn out from all the hard work. we could use some pampering from a pretty lady like you.”

you roll your eyes, a playful smirk on your lips. “please, you're not fooling anyone with that act. i know you both just want to keep me awake so you can enjoy me being clingy. but fine, i'll play along. foot massage it is.” you get to your feet and position yourself in front of them, a mock-authoritative look on your face as you gesture for them to present their feet.

gojo let's out a dramatic groan as if the thought of a foot massage was physically painful, but his eyes are glittering with amusement. “oh, my poor aching feet. how will i ever survive such torture?” geto can't help but grin at your authoritative demeanor, his eyes flicking between you and gojo. he plays along, pretending to be reluctant as he lifts his foot, placing it on your lap. “oh, how awful. i guess we have no choice but to submit to your foot massage torment.”

as you start the foot massage, gojo pretends to wince and moan as if you're inflicting terrible pain on his feet. “oh, the agony! i can't handle this torture any longer!” next to him, geto struggles to hold back laughter as he pretends to suffer through the ‘torment’. he puts on his best pained expression, wincing and groaning exaggeratedly. “oh, princess, you're going to break us with this painful pampering! we can't handle it!”

you struggle to keep a straight face as both men act like overgrown toddlers, pretending to suffer through the mild discomfort of a foot massage. gojo continues to exaggerately moan and groan, his head thrown back against the couch cushions. “oh, the horror! you're truly a devil in disguise, princess!”

geto, never one to be outdone, joins in, his expression filled with mock suffering as he pretends to wriggle in pain. “oh, how cruel you are! making us endure such torturous pampering!” you try to stifle your laughter, struggling to keep a straight face as both men exaggerate their discomfort with playful theatrics. their dramatic reactions only make it harder for you to stay serious.

“oh, the poor things,” you say with a mock sympathetic tone, barely able to hold back your laughter. “i guess you’re just too delicate for a little pampering. i’ll try to be more merciful next time.” you continue the foot massage with a grin, clearly enjoying their playful responses and the way they’re letting their guard down for your amusement.

both men can't help but break character as you respond with playful sarcasm, their over-the-top expressions breaking into wide grins. gojo's dramatic moans become chuckles as he looks at you, his eyes filled with amusement. “oh, dear, how could you be so harsh with us?” geto's exaggerated winces transform into a smile as he laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “yeah, we're clearly too delicate for your ruthless pampering. we plead for mercy, princess.”

you burst into laughter, unable to contain your amusement as both men break character and their exaggerated expressions turn into genuine smiles. “oh, really?” you tease, still laughing. “you two are such drama queens! i guess i’ll have to rethink my strategy for torturing you with my pampering.” you give them a playful wink, clearly enjoying the light-hearted moment and the way they’re embracing the fun.

gojo lets out a mock gasp, feigning offense at your playful accusation. “drama queens? us? we are the epitome of dignity and composure.” geto nods in agreement, unable to hold back his own laughter. “yeah, how dare you imply we're anything but the epitome of stoicism and seriousness.” but their attempts to keep up the act are undermined by the grins on their faces, their eyes filled with mirth. it's clear they're enjoying every second of your playful banter.

you snort, clearly amused by their exaggerated attempts at maintaining their act. “oh, of course, the epitome of dignity and composure,” you say with a teasing tone, rolling your eyes playfully. “i’ll be sure to remember that next time.” you continue the foot massage, your grin widening as you enjoy the banter and their clear enjoyment of the playful exchange.

gojo pretends to straighten his non-existent tie, putting on his most serious expression. “that's right, we are the very picture of gravitas and seriousness.” geto adds, feigning a dignified nod. “indeed, we carry ourselves with the utmost dignity and composure at all times.”

as you continue the foot massage, both men struggle to maintain their serious faces, their eyes sparkling with mirth. it's clear they're loving every second of the banter, their laughter bubbling just beneath the surface. you raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “yeah?” you ask, your tone teasing.

before they can react further, you give a dramatic pause and then pull at the hair on their legs, eliciting the most exaggerated, girly screams of hurt from both men.

both gojo and geto's acting falls apart entirely at your unexpected action, their fake serious expressions giving way to surprised squeals as you yank the hair on their legs.

gojo lets out a high-pitched gasp of pain, his hand clutching his leg as if you've inflicted a terrible injury. “OWW! WHAT THE HELL, PRINCESS?” geto's reaction is equally dramatic, his voice reaching a pitch he didn't know he could reach. “AAHH! OUCH! THAT HURTS!”

you burst into laughter at their over-the-top reactions, the sound of their surprised squeals and dramatic exclamations only making your amusement grow. “wow, you two really can’t handle a little hair tug, huh?” you tease, still laughing. “i didn’t think you’d react like that. maybe i should’ve been gentler!” you continue to chuckle, clearly enjoying the playful chaos and the way they’re both struggling to regain their composure.

both men glare at you, their expressions a mix of exaggerated pain and mock outrage. gojo grumbles dramatically, his hand still gripping his leg as if in agony. “that was not a 'little hair tug' that was a brutal assault on my very being. you're heartless, princess.” geto nods in agreement, his voice filled with feigned hurt. “yeah, you could've warned us! we're sensitive, you know. a little gentleness would be appreciated.”

you continue to chuckle, unable to keep a straight face as both men maintain their mockingly hurt expressions. the sight of them pretending to be fragile and delicate is nothing short of hilarious. “oh, come on, you big babies," you tease, your grin widening. "that was hardly a brutal assault. a little hair tug shouldn't have you both acting like i just ripped out a limb."

both men continue to pout, feigning hurt feelings as they pretend to wince in pain. gojo shakes his head dramatically, his tone overly dramatic. “oh, princess, you clearly underestimate the sensitivity of our delicate skin. that tug will leave emotional scars that may never heal.”

geto joins in, his voice filled with mock horror, “yeah, we'll forever carry the trauma of your reckless tug. we may never be the same again.” you can't help but laugh, their theatrical dramatics only adding to the amusement. “oh, please,” you say, still chuckling. “do you two need me to fetch some tissues for your nonexistent tears? or should i call in a group therapy session for the hair trauma? you're both being overdramatic, and you know it.”

both men maintain their exaggerated pouts, refusing to let the act drop. gojo huffs dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. “tissues aren't going to cut it, princess. we need a full-on recovery plan. this is a matter of emotional and psychological trauma we're talking about.” geto nods in agreement, his expression still feigning hurt. “yeah, you clearly underestimate the extent of the damage you've caused. we're fragile souls, you know. we need TLC and gentle care to heal properly.”

you roll your eyes, suppressing a grin at their continued dramatic performance. “alright, alright,” you say with a sigh of mock resignation. “here, let me kiss it better.”

both men's expressions immediately switch from exaggerated pain to eagerness, their wounded pride suddenly forgotten. gojo's eyes light up, his voice suddenly hopeful. “oh, princess, you're so kind and generous. please, kiss it better. we can't possibly recover without your healing touch.” geto nods in agreement, a hint of a smile on his lips. “yeah, princess, your kisses are the only cure for our hair trauma. we need your tender affection to mend our fragile egos.”

you lean in and press a gentle kiss to their legs, playing along with their act but clearly enjoying the fun. “there, all better. now can we get back to actually relaxing?”

both men let out exaggerated sighs of relief as you kiss their legs. gojo grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “ah, your kiss has worked a miracle, princess. we're miraculously cured now.” geto laughs softly, also enjoying the playful banter. “yeah, who knew your kisses could have healing powers? we feel like brand new men now.”

gojo pretends to inspect his leg, checking whether the ‘trauma’ has been healed. “you know, princess, that was a pretty impressive kiss. maybe you should consider a career as a hair trauma specialist.” geto nods in agreement, a playful smile on his lips. “yeah, that healing touch of yours is quite something. maybe we should make you a permanent part of our self-care routine.”

gojo pretends to inspect his leg, checking whether the "trauma" has been healed. his eyes gleaming with a devilish glint. “you know, princess, since your kisses have such miraculous healing powers, now we're thinking of other parts that need your special touch.”

geto catches on to his suggestive tone, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “yeah, princess, we have some other... sensitive areas that could use your attention.”

you can't help but chuckle as both men begin to hint at their ‘sensitive areas’ that need your attention. you playfully play along, raising an eyebrow. “oh, really? and which 'sensitive areas' might those be, hm?”

gojo pretends to think deeply for a moment, then gestures to his chest. “well, my chest, obviously. it's feeling quite neglected and in desperate need of your touch.” you grab a pillow from the couch and place it on the carpet floor, patting it invitingly. “lay here, then. let me take a look at that sensitive area.”

you lie on your side next to the pillow, propping yourself up on your elbow and giving them an amused look. “i’ll see what i can do about your ‘neglect’.”

gojo grins, clearly pleased with your directness and eagerness to play along. he quickly positions himself on the pillow, lying down next to you. he looks up at you with a playful smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh, princess, i have full confidence in your ability to take care of my neglect. i'm all yours to tend to.”

you clear your throat, trying to adopt a serious expression despite the playful glint in your eyes. you place your finger on his chest and start making slow, deliberate circles on his clothes, pretending to focus intently on the “sensitive area.”

“alright, let’s assess the situation here,” you say in a mock-serious tone. “we need to make sure we address this ‘neglect’ properly.” you continue your circles with exaggerated care, enjoying the playful moment and the way gojo’s mischievous smile never fades.

gojo follows along with your act, pretending to be a serious and patient patient. his eyes never leave your face as you make your pretend “medical inspection”. he grins widely at your mock-professional tone, clearly enjoying the playful role-play. “oh, for sure. we need to tackle this neglect head-on. please, princess, don't hold back. whatever it takes to heal this sensitive chest area of mine.”

you lean down and press a gentle kiss to his chest, your lips brushing lightly against his clothes. you maintain your mock-professional demeanor as you pull back with a playful smile. “there, all done,” you say, your tone both teasing and affectionate. “i’m sure that kisses will do wonders for your ‘sensitive area.’”

gojo grins wider as you kiss his chest, clearly very amused by this little game. he plays along, pretending to be completely satisfied. “oh, princess, you're a miracle worker. that kiss was exactly what i needed to cure my neglect. i can feel that sensitive area coming back to life already.”

he reaches up to poke your nose playfully, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “you truly have magic in those lips, you know that?” you hum with satisfaction and turn your attention to geto, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “what about you, big boy?” you ask, your tone playful and teasing.

you pat the spot next to you on the pillow, giving him an inviting smile. “ready for your turn? I promise to handle your ‘sensitive area’ with the same care.” you wait for his response, clearly enjoying the playful role reversal and the way both men are fully immersed in the fun.

geto grins at your playful invitation, his eyes sparkling in anticipation. he moves closer and takes the spot next to you on the pillow, positioning himself in a mirrored pose to gojo.

“oh, princess, i'm honored to be the second patient on your agenda. i hope you'll treat my 'sensitive area' as well as you did gojo's.” he looks at you expectantly, his playfulness never faltering.

you turn around to face geto, giving gojo your back as he props himself up on one elbow, watching the scene with interest. you furrow your eyebrows, adopting a mock-serious expression.

“alright, let’s see here,” you say, your tone is professional as you pretend to examine geto. your eyes land on his lips, and you point to them with a dramatic flourish. “i assume this is your sensitive area, am i correct?” you look at geto with an amused glint in your eye, clearly enjoying the playful role-play and the way he’s playing along with the game.

geto's lips twitch with suppressed laughter as you point to his lips and declare them his “sensitive area”, finding your over-the-top professional pose ridiculously amusing. but, being the good sport he is, he plays along. he nods seriously, acting as if you've just made a groundbreaking diagnosis.

“yes, princess, my lips are indeed my most sensitive area. they require delicate, and perhaps... frequent attention.” you nod with a mock-serious expression, “let me heal you, my dear patient,” and lean down to give him a tender kiss. you cup his cheek gently as you kiss him, your touch soft and affectionate. even while lying on your side, you manage to make the moment feel intimate and caring, adding to the playful charm of the role-play.

geto lets out a soft sigh as you give him the tender kiss, his eyes flickering closed as he savors the feel of your touch. your gentle gesture and the way you kiss him makes his heart flutter, even though he knows it's all pretense.

when you pull back, he looks at you with a soft, affectionate smile, pretending to be fully healed. “oh, princess, that kiss was just what i needed. my lips feel completely healed now. can i consider myself in complete recovery now?”

you smile warmly at geto’s response, clearly pleased with his playful acceptance of your ‘treatment.’ “I’m glad to hear that, my dear patient,” you say with a teasing tone. “yes, you’re officially in complete recovery.”

you lean in and give him one last, gentle peck on the cheek. “feel free to rest up now. and remember, if you need any more ‘treatment,’ just let me know.” you give him a reassuring smile, enjoying the playful moment and the affectionate exchange.

geto grins widely at your response, clearly enjoying the playful way you're treating him. he plays along, pretending to be utterly relaxed and at ease. “oh, princess, i feel like a new man now. I shall rest my weary self as you have instructed. and be assured, if i feel the need for more 'treatment', you'll be the first one i come to.” he leans in and returns your cheek kiss, adding a little extra intimacy to the playful act.

gojo watches with a mock pout from over your shoulder, clearly feeling left out. he groans dramatically, “hey, what about me? i only got a kiss on my chest! i’m still in need of some princess-level treatment.” you turn around as he gives you a pleading look, clearly enjoying the playful banter but also genuinely wanting a bit more affection.

you chuckle, seeing gojo's mock pout and hearing his exaggerated groans. you turn around to face him, your expression playful yet also affectionate. “oh, my dramatic patient, don't worry. i didn't forget about you. i just had to attend to geto's 'sensitive area' first.” you pat his chest lightly, your touch playful yet tender, “but your turn is coming.”

you lay down on your back, resting your head on geto's arm as a pillow. with a contented sigh, you glance over at gojo, who is watching you with eager anticipation.

“see? i’m making sure everyone gets their fair share of attention,” you say with a playful smile. “now, let’s make sure your ‘sensitive area’ gets the treatment it deserves.” you extend your arm toward gojo, inviting him closer for his turn, ready to continue the playful game and give him the affection he’s been waiting for.

gojo grins widely at your invitation, his playful and eager expression making it clear that he's very much looking forward to his “treatment.” he moves closer, positioning himself next to you on the pillow, as you continue to lie sandwiched between the two men like a princess being pampered by her loyal subjects. gojo looks at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement, “oh, princess, I'm ready for my treatment. i've been anxiously waiting for your tender touch.”

you drape your hand around gojo’s shoulder, pulling him closer as he positions himself on his stomach beside you, his body resting slightly on top of you. you cup his cheek gently, looking into his eyes with a soft, affectionate gaze. “let me take care of you too,” you say softly. “you’ve been so patient. now, let me heal you too.” you lean in and place a tender kiss on his lips making sure he feels the same warmth and affection that you’ve shown to geto.

gojo sighs softly as you pull him closer, his body pressed against yours in a position that feels both intimate and safe. he melts into your touch as you cup his cheek, his eyes locking with yours in a moment of tenderness and vulnerability.

as you lean in to kiss him, he closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of your lips on his. he responds to your kiss with equal softness, his own lips moving against yours in a gentle and affectionate exchange. for a moment, the playful banter of earlier is replaced with a quiet sweetness.

your nose brushes against each other as the kiss deepens, gojo's hand on your hip gently tightens, the feel of his strong, calloused fingers on your soft flesh a subtle but undeniable expression of his affection and desire for you.

he shifts slightly, his body pressing a little closer to yours. his lips move against yours with a mixture of tenderness and a hint of neediness, his tongue briefly tracing the contour of your mouth in a silent plea for more.

as the kiss continues, gojo's hand on your hip begins to move, gently tracing a path up and down your side in a slow, caressing motion. each light touch seems to send a shiver through your body, an intimate and affectionate connection that speaks volumes without words.

he breaks the kiss briefly, gasping for air (he's much less adept at controlling his breathing than geto), before claiming your lips again in another possessive, but tender, kiss.

geto watches the intimate moment between you and gojo, his eyes flickering with a mix of affection and a hint of playful envy. he smiles softly as he sees the way your bodies are pressed together, the way your lips move against gojo's in a tender yet passionate exchange.

he reaches down and lightly brushes your hair, as if to gently remind you of his presence while also expressing a silent request for you to not forget him in the moment.

geto, watching the intimate moment unfold, feels a mix of amusement and protectiveness. he gently pushes gojo away, his tone playful but firm with a little bit of envy. “alright, man, stop hogging her.”

gojo breaks away from the kiss with a playful, albeit reluctant, pout, clearly not happy at being interrupted by geto's ‘gentle’ push. he glances over his shoulder at his friend, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“oh, suguru, we were just getting good,” he protests, a hint of annoyance in his voice, but also a playful hint of competition, “can't you let me have my moment with the princess in peace?”

geto merely chuckles in response to gojo's pout and protest, his grin widening as he relishes the competition and playful banter. he gently wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him.

“oh, come on, satoru, i'm not going to let you hog all the princess' time and attention now. she has two handsome, injured patients to tend to, remember?” geto teases, his touch on your shoulder affectionate and tender. you roll your eyes playfully at their antics, a smile tugging at your lips despite the mock annoyance. “alright, alright, you two. i guess I’ll just have to split my time and attention equally between my ‘handsome patients’ then.”

you settle back comfortably, leaning into geto’s embrace while reaching out a hand to gently touch gojo’s arm, signaling that you’re still here for both of them, balancing the affection with ease. “come here,” you tell the man, signaling him to lay beside you properly.

gojo's grin widens at your playful eye-roll and mock annoyance, clearly enjoying the banter with both you and geto. when you reach out a hand to touch his arm, he responds immediately, leaning into your touch with a soft smile.

when you call him to lay beside you, a playful glimmer sparks in his eye. he moves to settle in beside you, stretching out comfortably on the pillow, his body close enough for his arm to still occasionally brush against yours or geto's.

you let out a content sigh, gazing up at the ceiling as the three of you lie on the carpet. “this is nice,” you speak softly, your voice sincere and unguarded. “i could get used to this.” geto hums in agreement, his body warm against you as he holds you close. “i have to agree,” he says quietly, a soft smile on his lips. “there's something soothing about just lying here like this, together. no missions, no responsibilities— just the three of us.”

gojo echoes geto's sentiment, nodding slightly as his fingers absently trace lazy patterns on your arm. “yeah, princess, this is... surprisingly nice,” he murmurs, his voice unusually soft and gentle.

the room falls into a comfortable, companionable silence, the only sounds being the soft breathing and occasional rustle of movement on the carpet as you all adjust your positions to bask in the peaceful moment.

after a while, geto's fingers begin to idly play with strands of your hair, and gojo reaches out to intertwine his fingers with yours, both men quietly seeking a bit more contact and connection with you. you can almost feel the tension in both men slowly melting away as you all lie together, a comfortable silence enveloping the room, broken only by the sound of your steady breaths and occasional light touches.

it's as if the playful banter and competition have given way to a moment of peaceful respite. a comfortable, intimate moment to simply enjoy each other's company, away from the chaos and demands of their lives as jujutsu sorcerers.

the three of you continue to remain in that comfortable, intimate moment, the passing minutes marked by the gentle movements of hair being played with, fingers intertwined, or arms casually resting against each other.

gojo breaks the silence after a while, his voice soft and contemplative. “princess,” he murmurs, his tone unusually serious and thoughtful, “can I ask you something?”

“hum?” you hummed softly.

gojo's gaze is fixed on the ceiling as he contemplates his words, his fingers still gently intertwined with yours. the seriousness in his tone indicates that he's about to ask a question that requires a thoughtful response.

“can i ask... how would you describe us?” he asks after a pause, his voice unusually soft and vulnerable, “the three of us... what are we, to you?” you fall silent for a moment, your eyes still focused on the ceiling above. a soft smile forms on your lips as you reflect on gojo's question.

“did you know about the old poem that says, ‘speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life?’”you ask gently, your voice carrying a touch of love for them.

“that's how i feel about you,” you add quietly, the depth of your emotion clear in your tone even though you're not looking directly at them.

your words hang in the air for a moment, the quiet honesty in your response touching both men deeply. geto's grip on your shoulder tightens slightly, as if he's silently expressing his own emotions as he listens intently.

gojo's fingers tighten around yours as well, a subtle indication of the impact your words have on him. he's uncharacteristically silent, processing your response. when he finally finds his voice, it's unusually soft and vulnerable. “does that mean... we make you feel alive?” he asks, the faintest hint of insecurity in his question.

you turn to gojo for a brief moment, a soft, genuine smile on your lips, before your gaze returns to the ceiling.

“i love you like that,” you say softly, “i’m happy.” your words carry a depth of emotion, revealing just how much they mean to you and how they have enriched your life.

gojo's breath hitches slightly as your gaze meets his for a brief moment and then returns to the ceiling. your words— “i love you like that, i’m happy”— fill him with a heady mixture of emotion. he's clearly taken aback, not expecting such a heartfelt and powerful response. most people think it might be the most basic and simple answer, but not for him, god, not for them.

beside you, geto's grip on your shoulder tightens even more, a silent affirmation of his own feelings. he can practically feel the emotion radiating off gojo in waves.

the silence in the room is deafening, each of you lost in your own thoughts and feelings, both men seemingly affected by your response in different ways. gojo is unusually quiet, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, while geto can't bring himself to speak, the intensity of the moment leaving him temporarily speechless.

after what feels like an eternity, gojo finally breaks the silence, swallowing hard before he mutters. “you mean that, princess?” his voice is low and laced with insecurity, a rarity for him.

you nod, the motion is small but sure, and your voice comes out as a soft whisper, “every single word.” the sincerity in your tone leaves no room for doubt. the simple gesture of your nod and the sincerity in your voice are like a balm to gojo's soul. a visible wave of relief seems to wash over him, his tensed shoulders relaxing slightly as your confirmation sinks in.

he swallows again, his throat bobbing as he stares up at the ceiling, his usual bravado replaced by a more vulnerable side. “thank you,” he whispers gruffly, the depth of his emotions apparent in his voice.

geto, sensing the emotional shift in gojo, finally speaks up. his voice is low and soothing, a comforting presence in the room. “you've got a way with words, princess,” he murmurs, a hint of admiration in his tone, “and you say exactly what we need to hear.” he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze, adding just a little bit more tenderness to the moment.

you turn your head slightly towards geto, your voice gentle but firm. “i’m not saying it just because it’s what you want to hear,” you say, your gaze drifting back to the ceiling. “i said it because that’s how i feel.”

your words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and both men seem to take a moment to absorb the depth of your emotions. your words seem to have a profound effect on both men, gojo especially. his grip on your hand tightens slightly, as if he's silently seeking reassurance.

geto, meanwhile, lets out a soft hum, the sound echoing with contentment. he brings his other hand up to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, a silent gesture of affection.

“we know,” geto says quietly, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment before returning to your shoulder, “and that's what makes it even more meaningful.” another stretch of silence follows, the atmosphere in the room now weighted with a mixture of contentment, vulnerability, and affection. gojo finally speaks up again, his voice still gruff but no longer insecure.

“princess?” he murmurs, his gaze shifting to you, “can i ask you something else?”

your smile widens, warmth spreading through you at the sound of gojo’s voice, a mix of curiosity and vulnerability. without shifting your gaze from the ceiling, you let out a soft, amused breath. gojo and his endless questions.

“sure, baby,” you respond gently, your voice tender and reassuring. you know whatever he asks next will be met with the same honesty, the same love, because that’s what the three of you share—something real, something worth every word spoken.

gojo grins slightly at your amusement, clearly aware that he does indeed have a penchant for endless questions— he just can't help himself. the nickname “baby” also doesn’t go unnoticed, his heart swelling with affection for you.

he swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “this might be a big question,” he warns, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “but... are we...” he hesitates, seemingly unsure of how to phrase his question. geto, sensing the significance of the moment, also perks up, his gaze shifting subtly between you and gojo. he remains quiet, but his arm around your shoulders tightens just a tiny bit, silently expressing his curiosity.

gojo continues, his voice is still low and tentative. “are we... exclusive?” he finally manages to get the question out, his eyes darting over to you, searching your face for your reaction.

you can’t help the soft laugh that escapes your lips, the sheer innocence and absurdity of gojo’s question catching you off guard. the corners of your mouth twitch as you hold back a wider grin, finding his uncertainty oddly endearing.

turning your head slightly, you finally meet his gaze, your eyes twinkling with affection and amusement. “i don't know, baby,” you reply, your tone gentle yet teasing, “we've been dating for four years and living together for three years… why don't you tell me?”

geto scoffs quietly at gojo’s question, shaking his head with a small, amused smile, but he doesn’t say anything, letting your response stand on its own. it’s a moment that’s both lighthearted and deeply reassuring, a reminder of the bond you all share.

gojo's cheeks flush slightly at your teasing response, his expression a mix of embarrassment and sheepish amusement. he's clearly aware of how obvious the answer to his question should be, but in the moment, he wanted to hear the words from you.

he groans lightly, running a hand through his messy hair and chuckling sheepishly. “alright, princess, that was a dumb question, i'll admit it,” he concedes. he glances at geto, a hint of defensiveness in his tone, “give me a break, man. i'm not exactly an expert at this whole commitment thing.”

geto's smile widens, his eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and smugness, as he watches the exchange between you and gojo. “i would say you've done alright so far,” he teases lightly, his voice filled with humor.

he gives your shoulder another squeeze, clearly enjoying the playful banter, his body still pressed warmly against yours. he chimes in, trying to lighten the mood even further. “yeah, princess, you should give the poor man a break. after all, it's a miracle he's managed to keep a relationship together for this long.”

you chuckle softly, your eyes twinkling with amusement as you watch gojo's reaction. “oh, you need to be more exclusive? how about getting married?” you tease gently, a playful edge to your voice, without realizing you just putting an idea inside their heads.

gojo's eyes widen comically, his mouth hanging open for a brief moment as if he's processing your words. you can practically see the wheels turning in his brain, his mind already contemplating the idea.

geto, on the other hand, seems visibly surprised by your suggestion, his grip on your shoulder tightening momentarily as he processes the possibility. both men remain silent, their minds clearly contemplating the idea of marriage that you’ve just proposed.

you notice gojo's eyes widening and his cheeks flushing, and you can’t help but find his flustered response endearing. “don’t worry, baby,” you add with a soft smile, “i was just teasing. but if you ever want to make it official, you know where to find me.”

you were just teasing, sure, but them? their brains already start overworking from thinking to make you their wives. gojo lets out a relieved breath, visibly relaxing slightly at the realization that you were only teasing. but the idea of marriage is still swirling in his head, the thought of you as his wife making his heart flutter.

geto, meanwhile, is also clearly affected by your words. he seems lost in thought, his gaze fixed on nowhere in particular as he ponders the possibility.

both men exchange a discreet glance at your last remark, a silent conversation passing between them, filled with a mix of excitement and anticipation

after a moment of silent communication between geto and gojo, the latter finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “princess,” he murmurs, his voice a bit raspier than usual, “hypothetically speaking, if i— we wanted to make this official...” he trails off, his eyes meeting yours, a flicker of vulnerability visible in his gaze.

geto grins lazily, clearly enjoying the direction this conversation is taking. he leans his chin on your shoulder, his lips hovering near your ear. “yeah, hypothetically,” he adds quietly, his tone laced with anticipation.

gojo’s lips twitch with a hint of uncertainty, his heart beating faster as he contemplates the next words coming out of his mouth.

“do you...” he hesitates, swallowing hard when his voice breaks slightly. he takes a deep breath, steeling himself to just ask the damn question. “do you think you'd ever want to... marry us?” he finally gets the question out, his gaze fixed on yours, awaiting your response. geto's grip on you tightens, silently signaling his agreement and added curiosity.

you look at both men, your smile growing even wider as you take in their anxious expressions. “yes,” you reply, your voice warm and sincere. “hypothetically,” you add with a teasing hint, but the truth in your words is unmistakable.

gojo and geto both let out a sigh of relief at your response, their shoulders relaxing as the tension in the room dissolves into a palpable excitement.

gojo's heart thumps heavily in his chest, still processing the fact that you’ve not only just agreed to a hypothetical marriage, but you’ve also done so with such an open heart.

geto, on the other hand, grins widely, his hand moving from your shoulder to gently trace patterns along your arm. “hypothetically,” he whispers in your ear, “you're going to be stuck with us forever.”

you smile contentedly, gazing at the ceiling as you absorb the warmth of the moment. “hypothetically, i’ll be happier than ever,” you reply softly, your voice filled with genuine affection and anticipation.

gojo and geto share a glance, both visibly pleased by your words. gojo then lets out a soft huff, a mixture of anticipation and excitement laced in his voice.

“hypothetically, we should start planning.”

geto nods in agreement, his hand coming to rest on your stomach, his thumb idly stroking your skin. “hypothetically, yeah. the sooner, the better.” you chuckle softly, your eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “hypothetically, you should propose to me properly,” you tease, enjoying the light-heartedness of the moment.

both of them chuckle in response, the atmosphere turning even more lighter and flirty. “hypothetically,” gojo counters, a roguish grin on his lips, “what if we just jump straight to eloping?” geto scoffs playfully, “hypothetically, don’t listen to him. we’re definitely doing things properly.”

gojo pouts slightly, feigning disappointment. not because he doesn't think that you don't deserve a proper proposal, but the thought of you being his wife? yeah, he is just getting impatient each second and he feels like he can't wait any longer.

“hypothetically, where’s the fun in that?” he asks jokingly. geto grins, shaking his head at gojo’s antics. “hypothetically, she deserves more than just a rushed elopement, you know.” of course, gojo satoru knows that, but geto also knows that gojo is already planning a whole proposal speech, the venue, the flowers, everything, he just love teasing his boyfriend.

gojo rolls his eyes, clearly enjoying the banter. “hypothetically, can’t i just pull out a ring right now and propose?” geto laughs, clearly amused by the idea, “hypothetically, do it then, coward.”

gojo bristles slightly at geto’s challenge, his competitive nature now provoked. “hypothetically, watch me,” he retorts, his eyes narrowing mischievously. geto grins even wider, clearly enjoying the exchange, “hypothetically, i’m waiting.” gojo stares at you for a moment, contemplating going through with the hypothetical proposal.

you look at gojo with a playful smile, wiggling your eyebrows encouragingly. “hypothetically, well, come on then,” you tease, “show me what you’ve got.”

gojo grins at your response, his confidence now fully reignited. he clears his throat and sits up, get on one knee in a dramatic fashion. “hypothetically,” he begins, his voice suddenly serious, “princess, the light of our lives... i have a question for you.” geto, who’s watching the scene unfolding with much anticipation, smirks, leaning his head on his hand as he watches gojo intently.

you chuckle softly at gojo's dramatic setup, thoroughly amused by his ‘hypothetical’ proposal. “hypothetically, i have the answer,” you tease, your smile widening as you prepare to hear his grand gesture.

gojo grins, clearly feeding off your playfulness. he takes a brief moment to gather his thoughts, looking uncharacteristically nervous for someone who’s only hypothetically proposing. “hypothetically,” he continues, his voice only slightly shaky, “would you do me the honor of marrying me?” geto, still observing silently, raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed by gojo’s ability to be genuine and dramatic at the same time.

you smile widely, your eyes twinkling with affection as you respond. “hypothetically, yes, i would,” you say softly, your tone filled with warmth and sincerity. your hand gently rests on gojo’s, as if sealing the hypothetical promise with a touch.

gojo's heart soars at your response, a wide grin overtaking his features. he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand gently in return.

geto, having observed the entire exchange, can’t help but chuckle quietly. “hypothetically,” he chimes in, his tone laced with amusement, “that was more romantic than i was expecting from this idiot.” gojo glares slightly at geto but then grins sheepishly.

“hypothetically,” gojo retorts, “i can be romantic when i want to be.” geto scoffs lightly, shaking his head in amused disbelief, “hypothetically, no one’s going to believe that after seeing how you act every day.” gojo rolls his eyes but can’t deny the truth in geto’s words. he turns his attention back to you. “hypothetically, you were impressed though, right princess?”

you smile playfully, enjoying the banter between geto and gojo. “hypothetically, i'm always impressed by you, baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek gently. gojo puffs out his chest slightly, clearly loving the attention. geto rolls his eyes again, but there’s a hint of fondness in his expression. “hypothetically,” geto chimes in again, his tone more serious this time, “does this mean i get a turn too?”

you chuckle softly, your eyes dancing with mischief. “hypothetically, is this the only proposal i’m ever going to get, or is there going to be another one?” you ask, your tone playful yet teasingly curious.

gojo looks sheepish, his face flushing slightly as if caught. he glances at geto who’s grinning widely, clearly enjoying the banter. “hypothetically,” geto responds, his voice filled with mock seriousness, “i would never disrespect our future wife by not properly asking her to marry me.”

gojo huffs but there’s a hint of amusement in his expression. “hypothetically,” he adds, his tone slightly pouty, “i thought we agreed on doing this together.” geto looks at gojo with a mix of amusement and mock annoyance. “hypothetically, you’re already carrying the ring, idiot,” he says, a huff playing on his lips. “and hypothetically, you’ve been holding onto it for months.”

gojo’s eyes widen, his expression turning guilty as if being caught in a lie. he scratches the back of his head sheepishly, clearly realizing that geto’s right.

“hypothetically,” he mutters, his voice is sheepish, “i was waiting for the right moment...” geto laughs, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of gojo. “hypothetically, you were being a chickenshit.”

your eyes widen in shock as you process what geto just revealed. you sit up, staring at gojo with a mix of surprise and disbelief. “hypothetically, what?!” you exclaim, your voice tinged with astonishment.

gojo and geto freeze, their faces flushing as they realize the surprise has been unintentionally spoiled. gojo stumbles over his words, clearly flustered, “hypothetically, ups..”

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Closer Than You Think

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Warning: fluff, Simon being very observant (kinda giving silent but deadly stalker vibes)

Authors note: I hope yall enjoy, this is inspired by @machveil Off-Putting! Simon Fic Link here: https://www.tumblr.com/machveil/765073373377249280/off-puttingsimon-riley-with-a-reader-that-matches (definitely check them out💜)

Word Count: 1.3 K

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The kitchen was warm and quiet, filled with the familiar scent of spices and simmering food as you moved around, focused on your makeshift lunch. Simon was supposed to be cleaning dishes, his usual routine after meals, but he’d been washing the same plate for over two minutes now. From the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you, his intense gaze following each step as you sliced vegetables and spread condiments with the quiet concentration of someone completely unaware—except you were more than aware.

The faucet ran uselessly, water spilling over his hands as he held the plate. His stare was unblinking, a quiet, focused intensity as if he were afraid you might disappear if he looked away. Finally, you turned to him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “You can keep looking, Simon,” you said softly. “Just turn off the faucet.”

He blinked, almost as if snapping back to reality, and then, with that familiar smirk of his, he shut off the water, letting the dish slip into the rack. His gaze remained on you as he stepped closer, his presence heavy, grounding. You felt the warmth of his hand hovering at your back, close but not touching, like he wanted to reach out but held back, that fierce intensity tempered by the quiet tenderness he saved just for you.

---

Simon’s need to be close extended far beyond quiet mornings and kitchen counters. He was your shadow throughout the day, moving with you from room to room, an ever-present figure who seemed to appear whenever you least expected it. You’d be folding laundry in the bedroom when you’d catch sight of him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on you with that same unwavering focus.

Once, while reading in the living room, you looked up to see him seated nearby, his eyes never leaving you as you lost yourself in the pages. He held his coffee mug in one hand, watching with an intensity that felt both comforting and slightly unnerving. It was as if he was memorizing you, studying every detail, absorbing your presence in a way that made you feel as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, meeting his gaze.

He just gave a slight shake of his head, that rare, almost shy smile softening his features. “Nothing. Just like looking at you.”

There was a weight in his words, a depth that went beyond simple affection. Simon’s love was a fierce, consuming thing, one that he conveyed not with grand gestures or pretty words, but with his quiet, undivided attention. And in those moments, you could feel it as clearly as if he’d said it out loud.

---

At night, his need for closeness became even more palpable. Simon would slip into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist with a firm grip that sometimes bordered on possessive. He’d hold you tightly, his hand splayed across your hip, fingers pressing into your skin with a roughness that left faint red marks in the morning. It was as if he needed that physical connection, a tangible reminder that you were his and right there with him.

There were nights you’d wake up to find him watching you in the dark, his gaze soft but intense, a quiet kind of reverence in his eyes. He’d reach out, brushing a hand gently down your arm, his fingers lingering as if reassuring himself of your presence. And when he thought you were asleep, he’d press a kiss to your shoulder, the tenderness in his touch a stark contrast to the hard lines of his usual demeanor.

“You’re really watching me all night?” you murmured one evening, breaking the silence.

“Only sometimes,” he whispered back, a hint of a smile in his voice. But his hand tightened around you, pulling you close in a way that made it clear he’d stay there forever if he could.

---

Grocery shopping was another arena for his quiet protectiveness. Simon followed you through each aisle, staying a few steps behind, his tall frame casting a watchful shadow as you moved through the store. He’d let you wander ahead, giving you space to browse, but he was never far. Sometimes you’d look up to find him at the end of the aisle, his eyes tracking your every movement.

One day, while you were comparing brands, a well-meaning stranger approached, glancing between you and Simon. “Excuse me, but… are you aware that there’s a man following you?”

You laughed softly, casting a glance at Simon’s intense, unflinching stare. “Oh—thank you. He’s my husband.”

The stranger’s eyes widened in surprise before he mumbled an awkward apology and hurried away. Simon stepped up beside you, his hand finding its way to your lower back, a grounding presence. You felt his thumb press against your spine, a subtle reminder of his possessive nature as he leaned in, murmuring in your ear, “I like when they know you’re taken.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, nudging him lightly as he smirked, his hand lingering just a moment too long.

---

Sometimes he’d follow you outside too, finding excuses to be close even on the quietest strolls. You might be out in the yard, admiring the blooming flowers, and he’d appear beside you, silent and watchful, his eyes tracing over you with that same intense focus. If you wandered too close to the edge of the property, his hand would come to rest on your shoulder, guiding you back with a gentle but firm pressure.

Once, you caught him outside in the early morning, his eyes on the kitchen window as he watched you from a distance. You’d only been making coffee, the simplest of tasks, but he observed you with the kind of attention others might reserve for something far more significant. You stepped out onto the porch, calling his name, and he came inside without a word, his gaze never leaving you as he slipped into the kitchen and pulled you into a loose embrace.

---

In social settings, Simon’s need for closeness only intensified. He’d stand close behind you at gatherings, his presence a protective wall against the crowd, his hand occasionally brushing your arm or settling at your waist as if anchoring you to his side. His gaze stayed fixed on you, making it clear to anyone nearby that you were his, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

One night at a friend’s party, someone reached out to give you a friendly hug, and you felt Simon’s body tense beside you, his hand sliding to your shoulder with a possessive grip. He didn’t say a word, but his stare was unmistakable, a silent declaration that made the friend take a step back, nodding in understanding. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, reaching up to rest a reassuring hand on his arm.

“Relax,” you whispered, amused by the quiet fierceness in his gaze. He just shrugged, a hint of a smirk on his lips, but he didn’t let go, his hand remaining on your shoulder in a gentle yet firm grip that conveyed exactly how he felt.

---

Even in the smallest moments, his intensity was ever-present. When you’d return from running errands, he’d meet you at the door, his eyes scanning over you as if reassuring himself that you were safe and whole. He’d take the bags from your hands, his fingers brushing over yours, lingering just a moment too long. And at night, he’d hold you close as you drifted off, his arms wrapped around you with a gentle possessiveness that left faint marks in the morning.

Simon’s love was a quiet, intense thing, a devotion that showed in the way he watched you, touched you, held you. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes, his constant presence a silent declaration that he was yours, and you were his. And as you lay beside him each night, feeling the weight of his hand on your waist, the warmth of his breath against your neck, you knew that this was a love unlike any other—fierce, consuming, and wholly, irrevocably yours.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reblogging! -Midnight💜

[kittenlittle24]

Picture this

Request by anon (hope this reaches you!): a house fic where there is an age gap between them but they have a lot in common like taste in music stuff and Can you possibly make the reader an artist in her free time.

Gifs never mine, likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Masterlist

Diagnostic Department. It was the last department in your rotation. All you needed to do was to survive a week under Dr. House and get him to sign off your hours.

You were standing in the entrance to the patient room, stethoscope around your neck and the case file in your hands as you watched House played the opening bars from "I Don't Like Mondays". You tilted your head as the patient copied him perfectly. He has perfect pitch.

The patient seemed to be in excellent health, but House wants him to stay. House starts playing a piece he once started to compose, and the patient finishes it.

“Try Baba O’riley next.” You suggested which made House turn sharply to look at you.

“Intern, go be useful in the clinic. Use my name on anything you sign.”

With a sigh and an eye roll you turned and left to follow his orders.

Somehow you were surprised Dr Cuddy didn’t see you working in the clinic instead of being with the rest of the diagnostic team. Or possibly you were certain you’d get caught covering for the department head.

Four exhaustingly, boring hours and too many hysterical patients later, you were finally in front of your locker in the doctors lounge, gathering you belongings to go home. You opened the locker to grab your coat.

“Heard Wilson purchased one of your paintings.”

You jumped slightly upon hearing his voice, but continued as you were, only humming in answer. You lifted your hair from inside your coat. Opening your purse you fished your hours paper and held it out to House.

“Could you do us both a favor and sign this?”

Looking at the paper, he tilted his head and pursed his lips, “How is signing your departure good for me?”

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes went wide, “You been treating me like crap, you didn’t let me sit in on a single case, just used me as your personal assistant.”

Moving to lean against the counter behind him, he chuckled, “I also let you cover my hours in the clinic.”

Shoving the paper against his chest, “Sign this so I won’t have to come back here Monday.”

Taking the paper, “I’ll sign this if you agree to go out with me.”

With a sigh you agreed.

That was a year ago, since then you finished your internship and started your residency in cardiology as well as moved to live with Dr Gregory House.

You woke up to an empty bed, frowning you rubbed your face before leaving the warm space. You walked into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and saw your boyfriend naked in front of the fridge.

“Is there coffee?” You asked.

He looked at you, slightly confused, “You’re not surprised I’m naked?”

Taking his half filled mug from where it was sitting on the counter, you took a sip and shook your head, “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Please get dressed or at least put underwear on before Cameron arrives.”

Leaning to kiss his cheek before you placed the mug in the sink and went to get ready.

He quickly followed you back to the bedroom, “Why is Cameron coming?”

Picking clothes and setting them on the bed, “She saw my painting in Wilson’s office, she asked if she can buy one herself, she’s stopping before work to pick it up.”

“And you told her to come here? To my apartment?”

Looking up at him, you tossed him a pair of boxers, “Ours, yes.”

He sat down on the bed to put his underwear on, “Does she know we both living here?”

You paused your actions and came to kneel between his legs, “Are you worried that she might comment on your relationship?”

“Having a hard time concentrating on your words when you’re down there.”

Placing your hands on his cheeks, “Greg, she’s younger than you and didn’t have any problem trying to pursue you, I do-“

“And you are younger than her and on that she’ll have plenty to say.”

Your thumbs stroked back and forth on the apple of his cheek before you rose just enough to kiss him deeply.

“I don’t care if or what anyone that isn’t you says on our relationship. Frankly, I’m surprised you do, it’s kind of a big reason why I’m into you.”

“So me being a jerk turns you on?“

Laughing , you kissed him again, “Don’t push it old man.”

He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to lie down on top of him before flipping you to be underneath you, “I’ll show you, old man.”