#two fucked up teenage boys (gay) (in love)

[deevotee]

we know finny will kill for ciel but i need ciel blowing someones brains out for finny like i think it would heal me

it would have to be such a specific and convoluted situation i think because it would require finny being unable to do anything and sebastian not being able to be around but i cant stop thinking about it still, especially the after with finny thanking ciel for helping him and ciel just being like "??? obviously im not going to let someone hurt you?" and finny who has only ever had ppl who want to hurt him in his life is just internally like "haha cool im in love with you now"

[justrustandstardust]

*✧:*one, two, three (it's not only you and me)*:･✧*:

@ryuqzn on X

"what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," the white-haired man says, gaze flickering down your body. he looks back up, making eye contact.

"but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, blue eyes piercing.

after you get stood up, you're ready to cut your losses and head home. when a couple approaches you at the bar with a proposition, you just might end up changing your mind.

MDNI: i'm not joking, this is utter filth and minors should steer clear of it like they're teenage boys and this is a decent haircut.

pairing: geto/gojo/you

a/n: this is for someone special. you know who you are.

important: afab reader, she/her pronouns

word count: 16k (i know, i fucking know)

because i'm clinically insane, i've created a playlist to enchance your listening ~pleasure. here's the spotify version, and here's the youtube version. this is purely for the girls, gays and theys. i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it. (͡ ͡° ͜ つ ͡͡°)

the clock's just struck nine, and you sigh, glancing down at your phone for the umpteenth time that evening. you suppose it's your fault for having such shit taste in men, anyways, for agreeing to meet a loser that didn't even bother to show.

swirling the straw around your drink, you kick your legs out from your seat on the barstool and ponder whether or not to ask the bartender for another. this is already your third drink; you're no lightweight but even you aren't impervious to the effects of three whiskey neats.

sighing again, you decide to cut your losses and call it a night. fuck men, you think distastefully, reaching into your bag for your wallet. literally and figuratively. you got all dressed up for some asshole that couldn't even bother to take you to bed tonight.

you're rooting around in your purse for your wallet when there’s a sudden tap on your shoulder. you glance up, and are met with the faces of possibly the two most beautiful men you've ever seen before in your life. they tower over you, and though you're sitting, you know that even if you stood up they'd easily have several inches on you. the dark-haired man is sporting a half-up half-down hairstyle, the contours of his chest and broad shoulders barely hidden by a fitted dress shirt and leather jacket.

you glance at the other man, who's light-haired and blue-eyed. his waist is so impossibly small in his dress shirt that you almost reach out to wrap your hands around it, just to see if they could fit. they're looking at you like they're seeing through you, and you blink, heady from both the alcohol and weight of their gaze.

"sorry to interrupt, but are you heading out?" the dark-haired man asks politely, leaning forward slightly. you nod slowly, unsure of what he's going to say next.

he chuckles, ducking his head. "ah, that's too bad. my partner and i were wondering if you'd like to come out with us tonight."

"come out?" you say, raising an eyebrow. the white-haired man rolls his eyes, pushing at the dark-haired man's arm.

"what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," he says, making direct eye contact with you.

"but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, gaze unwavering. your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you glance between them, watching as the dark-haired man —suguru?— pushes back, swatting the white-haired man on the shoulder.

"you'll have to forgive satoru, he's a bit upfront. but yes, we would love to get to know you better, if you're interested," he says purposefully, dark eyes meeting yours.

"no pressure, of course. we'd be just as happy to call you a taxi to make sure you get home safe and leave it at that," he adds, nodding at the door. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and you glance between them, at the cocksure expression on the white-haired man's face and the carefully open one on his partner's.

"can i know your names?" you manage, and the dark-haired man smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"you can call me geto. this is gojo," he says, gesturing to the white-haired man, who boisterously sticks out his tongue and flashes a peace sign.

you tell them your name in return and geto smiles again, glancing at gojo.

"that's a beautiful name. we'd be happy to do whatever you'd like to do tonight— it's totally up to you. we'll be happy with any choice you make, even if that means our acquaintanceship ends here," geto says kindly but meaningfully, looking into your eyes so you know he's serious. gojo nods beside him, and then smirks.

"wherever you're headed won't be nearly as exciting as us, though," he intones liltingly, brow raised in challenge. geto smacks him upside the head and he winces, pouting at the abuse.

"satoru is just joking," geto says, glancing sharply at gojo. "we are completely okay with whatever you want to do. we just want to make our interest in you very, very clear."

you haven't moved for the entirety of this interaction. you glance between them again, at these two heaven-sent men on a night you were basically begging to be dicked down only to be disappointed by the universe (read: a random loser whose name you can't even remember). swallowing hard, you think that you made your choice as soon as the words left geto's lips.

"i'll come with you," is what finally comes out of your mouth, throat dry. geto's lips quirk upwards and gojo grins, extending a hand to help you down from the barstool.

"just let me pay for these drinks first," you say, going for your purse. geto shakes his head and steps forward, catching your wrist in one hand and guiding it away from your bag.

"i don't think so," he says simply, releasing your wrist and reaching into his back pocket. he throws way too many bills onto the counter and you're trying not to gape as gojo snickers, urging you to take his hand. his palm is warm to the touch as he helps you down from the barstool, geto bringing up the rear with a featherlight touch to the small of your back.

you were right. even with heels, they tower over you. flanked on either side, they walk you to the door, geto pushing it open and gesturing for you to go through. as you pass him, you catch a whiff of versace's eau fraiche, the distinct notes of rosewood filtering through your nostrils. gojo follows behind you, tapping on his phone.

it's cold, and you didn't bring a jacket. you're trying to appear like you're not shivering but geto notices anyways, shrugging off his own leather jacket to drape around your shoulders. gojo steps away, raising his phone to his ear.

"where are we going?" you ask, geto's cologne enveloping you along with his residual body heat. geto glances at gojo, who's speaking quietly to someone on the phone.

"somewhere private," he says, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. he looks at you, something darkening in his gaze. "somewhere no one will disturb us."

gojo hangs up the phone, stepping off the curb into the street. seconds later, a sleek black SUV pulls up, windows tinted. gojo goes around the other side and geto opens the door for you, holding out a hand to help you inside. it's easily the most expensive car you've ever been in, the seats plush and the interior unbelievably spacious. there are four seats facing each other, the front of the car partitioned so the driver isn't visible. gojo takes the seat opposite you, kicking up his feet and folding his hands behind his head.

geto sits down beside you, reaching into a small compartment that evaded your notice to produce a chilled bottle of water.

"so you can sober up," he explains, unscrewing the cap. "we don't want you intoxicated for what's coming next."

"what's coming next?" you parrot, taking the water. gojo snickers again, pulling a lollipop out from god knows where and popping it between his teeth. he sucks, cheeks hollowing around the candy, eyes never leaving yours.

"we're down to do whatever you want to do," geto says, turning to face you. his features are open, honest. "we just need to know what's on the table."

"everything," you reply too quickly, answer coming out instantly. geto chuckles good-naturedly, gesturing to the water.

"then you'll have to get started on that."

you've never chugged water so hastily in your life. the drive is short, ten minutes at best, and the three of you sit in comfortable silence, tempered by the sounds of smooth rnb filtering through the car's speakers. the car pulls up beside a skyscraper, endlessly tall against the city skies. gojo takes the empty bottle from your hand and carelessly tosses it aside, stepping outside and taking your hand in his to help you out of the car. geto goes around the other way, nodding at the driver as the car rolls away from the curb.

the building is locked, and you watch as gojo pulls out a black card, flashing it in front of a sensor. the doors part to reveal an immaculate marble lobby, scaffolded by floor-to-ceiling windows that are at least three stories high. building staff are positioned discreetly behind tall counters, none of whom pay gojo and geto any mind as the three of you make their way through to the elevators. your heels are clacking on the polished floor, geto's jacket snug around your shoulders.

there are eight elevators, but only one with a sensor. gojo flashes his card again, the elevator doors sliding open. geto holds the door for you as you step inside, taking gojo's proffered arm. he presses the only button on the wall —labelled PH— as geto follows you inside, the doors closing behind him. you're still holding onto gojo's arm as the elevator rises, and rises, and rises. it moves silently, the only sound the clack of the lollipop against gojo's teeth. it's been at least two full minutes and you're starting to wonder if you're genuinely in the stratosphere when there's a quiet ping and the elevator slows to a stop.

geto steps out, motioning at you to go ahead. gojo leads you down the hall to what appears to be the only suite on the entire floor. expecting the black card again, you're surprised when he presses his palm to a large, flat pad, which scans his hand and flashes green. the door clicks open and gojo heads inside, geto once again bringing up the rear.

you're confronted by the most stunning residence you've ever seen. the architecture is open-concept, with two stories connected by a spiral staircase. the same floor-to-ceiling windows from the lobby showcase the glittering city skyline, lights twinkling just below the clouds. everywhere you look, there's sleek leather and white marble, outfitted with tasteful minimal decor and modern art.

"where am i?" is all you're able to say, struggling to pick your jaw up from the floor. gojo laughs, sliding his jacket off and tossing it onto a chaise in the living room.

"don't worry about it," he winks, pulling the lollipop from between his lips and ignoring geto's subsequent eyerolling. "life is better when you get it to live it in 3D."

"he's a nepo baby," geto interjects, going around the kitchen island and opening two massive fridge doors. "and he's insufferable, so being rich makes him easier to deal with."

gojo huffs indignantly, tossing the lollipop in something discreetly disguised as a garbage.

geto rummages around in the fridge, taking out the most expensive-looking sandwich you've ever seen. "hungry?"

you shake your head, and geto looks at you, imploring. "i know you had the water, but you're going to need....energy, for what we have planned."

choice made. placing your purse down on the island, you make your way over to where he's standing, taking the baguette. hopping onto a stool, you take a bite, eyebrows shooting up your forehead at the rich flavours. brie, prosciutto, fig jam.....the list continues.

geto glances at gojo, who's now only wearing his slacks, dress shirt and tie. "satoru, you can start getting the room ready. i'll bring her when she's done."

you’re mildly surprised when gojo makes an affirmative noise and leaves without snark, setting off to one of the many rooms in the suite. after he disappears from sight, geto turns back to you.

"this is the part where i ask how you like it," he says, leaning his elbows onto the kitchen island. you swallow, fig jam tangy on your tongue.

"like i said," you meet his gaze, holding steady. "i like all of it."

geto smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. "both ends?"

"every single one," you say purposefully, never breaking eye contact.

he chuckles, nodding to himself. "we're clean, by the way."

"as am i," you confirm, popping the last bite of sandwich into your mouth. "on birth control, too," you add, after chewing.

"good to know," geto remarks, pushing himself off his elbows. he helps you down from the stool, taking his jacket from your shoulders and setting it down on the counter. fingertips dancing along the small of your back, he guides you down the same direction gojo went earlier, stopping in front of a large door.

"last chance to change your mind," he says, voice low. he's looking at you openly, honestly. "there won't be any hard feelings either way."

you've never been so sure of anything in your life. "i want this," you breathe, suffocated by the truth of that statement. "i want both of you."

geto exhales, slow smile gracing his features. wordlessly, he opens the door, gesturing for you to go ahead. the room is dimly lit by cool-toned floorlights, but you can make out the shape of a bed in the centre, warmed by a fireplace at its opposite. the same floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the city skyline, creating a glittering effect along the room’s walls. you squint at the far-off section of the room with tiled floor, following the tile into a bathroom that houses a massive, glass doored rainfall shower, alongside an enormous claw-foot tub.

gojo is standing in front of the bed, lanky stature backlit by the cityscape outside. he's still wearing his shirt, slacks and tie, sans his shoes. the door clicks shut behind you, and you sense more than see geto take a step towards you, breath ghosting along the nape of your neck.

deafening silence engulfs the room as every single one of your hairs stand on end, the energy in the space charged. gojo hasn't moved and neither has geto, both standing stock still in the silence like they're waiting for you to make the first move.

you let out a shuddering exhale and that's all geto needs, his hand wrapping around your jaw as his mouth attaches itself to your neck. he sucks harshly, hungrily, as his other hand grips your waist from behind, pressing the entire length of his body against yours. gojo is in front of you in an instant and you don't waste a second, yanking him forward by the tie to crash your lips together.

the artificial flavour of the lollipop is sweet on his tongue as he kisses you with intention, hand slipping down to hike your leg around his waist. geto's tongue is working against your neck at the same time, the sensation of two hot mouths overwhelming. gojo sucks your lower lip into his mouth as geto bites the juncture of your neck, eliciting a whine into gojo's teeth.

heat is pooling between your legs and you can feel that they're both hard already, gojo pressed into your front and geto against your back. geto suddenly releases your jaw, taking a step back as gojo lifts you up, settling your other leg around his waist. he's still making out with you as your arms wrap around his shoulders and he walks you both to the bed, carrying you like it's effortless. he sets you down onto the bed, breaking away once you're laid flat on its smooth surface.

you make to grab his tie again and he snatches your wrist in one hand, smirking.

"eager, are we?"

"a bitch, are you?" you snipe, enjoying the way his eyes flash with amusement. he pins your wrist above your head, dipping his head down so that your noses are brushing.

"if you want something, you'll have to ask it for it," he says lowly, gaze flickering down to your mouth. "nicely."

"make me," you retort breathlessly, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. he kisses you back just as hard, broad shoulders caging you in as your hand twists uselessly in his grip.

he breaks away, releasing your wrist. geto reappears, shirtless and wearing only his black jeans. you barely have time to appreciate the muscled planes of his chest and the toned flesh of his abs as he grabs the back of gojo's head, messily bringing their mouths together.

gojo moans against his lips, palms coming up to press at his chest. without breaking apart, geto rips his shirt, buttons flying everywhere as fabric tears. somehow, the tie remains.

gojo shoves him away, stepping backwards to frown at what used to be his shirt. "that was expensive, you know."

"you can buy a dozen more," geto says mildly, turning back to you. you're transfixed, staring at gojo's bare chest that is just as defined as geto's, at the dip of his collarbones and the defined ridges of his abdomen.

gojo makes a face at his ruined shirt and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with geto.

"you're wearing far too many clothes," says geto, a shadow passing over his features. you swallow, shrinking into the bed as something that's not quite fear passes over you— more like an impending sense that something is coming.

geto climbs onto the bed, getting all up into your space immediately. claiming your mouth with his own, he kisses you like he fucking owns you, subsuming every thought in your mind to the point that you don't even notice him unzipping your dress.

he removes your clothes with a care that he didn't use in taking off gojo's, gently tossing your dress aside when you're down to your bra and panties. you're staring up at him as he leans down into you, warm hand resting on your hip.

gojo reappears with a remote in his hand, and you hear a click followed by the same smooth rnb from the car. there must be speakers threaded into the walls because the sound feels like it's coming from everywhere, weaving together the neurons in your brain that have been fried by sensation.

"is this okay?" geto's voice is soft but his eyes are piercing as he lifts you up towards him, palms supporting your back. you nod haltingly, heat flooding your veins as he inclines his head to kiss you again. without stopping, he deftly unclasps your bra one-handed, throwing it against the wall without looking. all of a sudden, he pulls away, standing up and moving to the foot of the bed.

gojo swaps places with him, coming up to your torso. you raise an eyebrow in question and geto smiles knowingly, climbing onto the bed and settling in front of your legs.

"satoru and i have different areas of speciality, you could say." gojo's smirk is back on his face as he takes in the sight of your naked chest, watching the flush that you're fighting spread down your clavicle.

"don't be shy, now," he teases, ignoring your death glare. you're about to retort but the air suddenly leaves your lungs in a whoosh as gojo bends forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. his soft hands cup your breasts, massaging firmly as his tongue flickers against the hardening bud.

you let out a shaky exhale, toes curling as one of your hands comes up to rest in his hair. the sensation is so intense that you almost don't notice geto sliding your panties down your legs until you feel the cool air against your damp lips.

gojo continues his ministrations, sucking your nipple into his mouth and tonguing it hard, nipping when you let out a low groan. geto spreads your legs and settles between them, kneeling on the bed. dark head bent, he drops lingering kisses up your legs, all the way from your calves up to your inner thighs. his lips are warm on your skin and you're absolutely throbbing, aching for it as he gets closer to your burning core.

gojo has switched to your other breast and geto is pressing butterfly kisses to the soft flesh of the inside of your thighs, sucking tender hickeys into the thin skin. the sensations are too much and not enough all at once, overwhelming your senses but not quite satisfying the ache inside you for more.

geto's mouth is everywhere except where you want it most— he's at the crease of your thigh, at the seam of your hip, the bump of your pubic bone. his breath ghosts over your slick lips, a sly smile lifting the corner of his mouth when you buck up, chasing. as gently as a butterfly beats its wings, he circles your clit with the pad of a fingertip, not quite touching it in the way he knows you want him to. you can’t hold back the whine that escapes your mouth, and geto’s lips quirk, his expression amused. his hands are warm on your hips and it feels like coming home when his lips finally meet yours, lapping up the slickness in your folds like a man parched.

gojo has released your nipples and he's positioned himself behind you to prop your upper body up, nibbling on your earlobes with his palms still cupping your breasts. geto's dark head is buried between your legs and he's eating you out like he was fucking born for it, alternating between dipping his tongue inside of you and sealing his lips around your clit. sucking down rasping breaths, you see stars when his mouth forms a vacuum around your clit and he sucks hard , your thighs clamping around his head as your hand fists in his hair.

geto hasn't stopped, arms beneath your thighs to hold your hips down as he pushes his tongue deeper inside your sopping centre. a choked-off moan falls from your lips and gojo snickers into the skin of your neck, his naked chest and the fabric of the tie pressed into your spine.

"you're enjoying dessert, aren't you, suguru?" gojo's voice is lilting and you would retort but you can't, too busy gasping for air as geto just hums in agreement, relentlessly tonguing your clit.

gojo begins leaving lovebites all around your shoulders and you can feel his fingers twisting and pinching your nipples, the sensation heightened by geto feasting between your legs. you're so wet that his chin is glistening with it, a few strands of his dark hair slipping out and falling into his face as he eats you out with vigour, the tendons in his jaw tensing from effort.

“oh god, don’t stop,” you cry out, fists clenched in the sheets. gojo chuckles behind you, tweaking a nipple and laughing when you spasm. 

“did you hear that, suguru? i think you’re gonna have to step it up.” 

without taking his mouth off your clit, his long fingers slide so smoothly inside of you that they may as well have been there all along. pumping shallowly, he continues to suck on your clit, pulsing his lips and flicking his tongue around the most sensitive part of you.

you keen, high and loud, and geto doesn't need words to understand, pressing a final kiss to your clit and leaning back to thrust his hand properly. he crooks his fingers, searching, and you cry out when he hits your spot, toes curling so hard it hurts. 

"right there, huh?" geto murmurs knowingly, fingering you ruthlessly. you ride the high, sparks bursting behind your eyelids. the solid warmth from behind you suddenly disappears as gojo lowers you onto the bed, and you crack an eye open just in time to see him grin devilishly and press his fingers down onto your mound, right above where geto's hand is inside of you.

the combination of inner and outer pressure is too much and you mewl, legs jerking as your walls contract and a sensation you've never felt before washes over you, almost like your body is releasing a gush of liquid.

"we got her to squirt," gojo declares smugly, continuing to press down as geto works you through your orgasm. you're arching off the bed, sheets clenched in your hands as wave after wave of pleasure crashes down upon you, an infinite tsunami upon a helpless shore.

after what feels like forever, you slump back down, chest heaving. geto gently withdraws his hand from between your legs and licks his fingers while gojo lifts his hand to release the pressure from your pelvis. you lift your head up to see gojo standing at the foot of the bed, palming the front of his pants, face scrunched up in want. geto looks to be faring no better as he gets up to stand beside gojo, bulge straining against his jeans.

"i think it's time we got these off," geto says, unzipping his pants. gojo shucks off his slacks in one go, ripping off the tie that somehow remained around his neck throughout all of this. suddenly they're both down to their underwear, black boxers tented.

they glance at you and then back at each other before gojo drops to his knees on the floor, pulling geto's boxers down with him. you watch, spent, as gojo takes geto into his mouth, swallowing around him and fondling his sack. geto tips his head back and rakes a hand through gojo’s hair, peering down at his head bobbing on his length. you're enjoying the show as geto thrusts shallowly into his mouth, his abs flexing with the motion.

gojo’s adam’s apple is bobbing as his throat works, and he keeps going until geto's breathing grows laboured, only stopping when geto gestures with his chin toward you on the bed. gojo releases him with a lewd pop and barely has a second to collect himself before geto's pushing him onto his back, stripping off his underwear and taking him down into his throat in one go. you watch, amazed, at what appears to be geto's total lack of a gag reflex.

"throat goat," gojo remarks fondly, reaching down to thread his hand through geto's dark hair. geto slaps his thigh and gojo chuckles, breaking off to groan when geto urges him on, pushing his ass forward to get him to fuck his throat.

you're still recovering from your climax when geto releases gojo from his mouth, wiping at the saliva around his lips. gojo glances at you, grinning as he pushes himself up onto his palms.

"want a turn?" he asks impishly, gesturing at geto, who stands up. you raise yourself into a sitting position up by the elbows and regard the two men in front of you and their well-endowed assets. gojo is longer but slightly thinner, like a water bottle. geto is girthier and thicker, like a beercan. you'll happily take both.

"i think she's got another orgasm in her, don't you?" geto climbs onto the bed and tugs you onto your hands and knees, gojo going behind you. "why don't you see what you can do about that, satoru."

you're gazing hungrily at the girthy length of geto, veiny and uncut up close. he's still glistening with gojo's saliva as you lick the tip, geto's palm coming to rest on your head. you're taking him down inch by inch as you feel gojo settle behind you, shivering as he trails a finger through the wetness gathered at your lips.

one hand gripping your hip, he lines himself up and pushes inside your wet heat until he's flush against your ass, forcing all the air out of your lungs. in the same instant, you reach the base of geto's length, full at both ends. you moan around him as gojo begins to thrust in earnest, the sound of skin slapping skin reverberating around the room as he fucks you relentlessly.

"shit," gojo says lowly, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "you're taking me like a champ."

geto's eyes are closed, his palm resting on your hair. you pull back, flattening your tongue beneath the head while your hand jacks off whatever your mouth can't reach. gojo changes angles and you can suddenly feel him in your chest, his tip so deeply inside of you that it's kissing your cervix.

you pick up the pace, tonguing the slit, and geto is openly groaning, gripping your hair hard enough that it hurts. you don't mind it— you encourage it, in fact, while gojo's fucking you hard enough that your walls will surely remember his shape. every time he brings you back onto his length, heady pleasure shoots through your veins, your toes tingling hotly. you can already feel another orgasm coming as gojo reaches a hand between your legs, searching for your clit. he twists his fingers evilly, not letting up when you let out a muffled moan around geto's girth.

"i think she likes it," gojo says, smirk audible in his voice. he rubs in tight, deliberate circles, his hand quickening as you stop sucking and just breathe, eyes rolling back in your head when he snaps his hips and simultaneously hits your spot.

you hear him laugh breathlessly, thrusts hindered somewhat as your walls spasm around him, his pace slowing as you come for the second time. he fucks you through it, pulling out when it becomes too much. gojo smacks your ass, laughing at the surprised yelp that exits your mouth.

"couldn't resist, princess," he winks at you, coming around to the front of the bed. again, they swap positions and geto moves to the back, warm hands settling around your waist. he brings you backwards onto him, your shoulder blades against his chest. he's warm, so warm, and you melt into his arms. he presses soft kisses into your neck, humming when you sigh contentedly and tip your head onto his shoulder.

"aren't you glad you had that sandwich?" he murmurs into your skin, hands roving all over your pliant body. the sound of a cap opening interrupts your reply, which was just going to be an mmhm-hmm anyways. you blink, watching gojo squeeze lube onto his fingers and stroke geto between your legs, whose eyelids flutter closed at the sensation.

after a few moments, gojo releases geto, who then lifts you up like you weigh nothing, settling you above him on your knees, one braced on either side of his hips. your back is still to his chest, and you turn your head to meet his gaze, cocking your head in question.

"lube?" you say, watching geto chuckle. he smooths a hand down your side, soothing.

"i know you don't have any problems getting wet," he smiles, gaze flickering down your body between your legs. he looks up, eyes dark. "but we can't have you feeling raw just yet."

your heart jumps in your chest when a hand grabs your chin, turning your head to face the front. you're met with the full mast of gojo, who's up on his knees in front of you, his shins pressing into the bed. it happens all at once and geto is lowering you down as you swallow around gojo, the taste of precome heady on your tongue. you sink down onto geto for what feels like forever, his tip reaching towards your ribs.  

if gojo fucked you relentlessly, geto fucks you like god himself commanded him, a divine task ordained straight from the heavens above. he bounces you up and down, pushing his hips up to meet yours on every thrust. your palms are braced on gojo's thighs and you can barely breathe around him, glancing up to see his eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he wantonly pumps his hips into your mouth, sliding his length along your tongue.

geto's hands are vicelike around your waist, his hot, hard length stretching your walls every time he brings you down onto his hips. they're working in tandem, each fucking a pair of your lips, and it’s so fucking good that you could cry. you’re absolutely stuffed at both ends, hot pleasure emanating from your core to spread throughout your body every time geto pushes back into you. another orgasm is cresting on the horizon as he picks up the pace, jackrabbiting his hips as he lifts you up impossibly higher, the bed creaking from the combined force of their movements.

"god, you're tight," geto grunts, punctuated by the sound of his balls slapping your ass. "so tight, just for me."

you're so close, you're so fucking close, and you've stopped sucking entirely as geto fucks you harder, your breasts bouncing in time with the motion. gojo suddenly pulls out from your mouth and you don't have time to react before he drops into a kneeling position and grasps your jaw in his hand, bringing your lips to meet his own. gojo slides his tongue inside your mouth, his hand moving up from your jaw to hold your head as his tongue caresses yours.

you moan into his mouth, arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you pull him flush to your chest while geto continues to fuck you, bliss radiating outward from where you’re joined. your nipples are pebbled against the smooth planes of gojo's clavicle and he deepens the kiss, fingers weaving into your hair as his other hand slips down to dance along your overly sensitive clit.

geto tilts his hips and floods every sense in your body with white-hot ecstasy as he rails your spot, the curve of gojo’s smirk sharp against your mouth while his fingertips stroke your clit. you drench the bed for the second time that night as you come, back arching in geto's grip as gojo's fingertips tease the lips stretched around geto's girth, still pistoning in and out of you.

"nice, we got a second squirt," gojo crows, eyes crinkling in mirth as he draws back. he raises his hand for a high-five and you don't have to look to know geto is rolling his eyes as he slaps gojo's hand. geto slowly brings you down to lean onto him, his chest rising and falling from exertion. he's still buried inside of you and you can barely think through the haze in your mind, sagging limply into his arms. geto supports your weight, whispering quietly into your hair as you come down.

"that's it, just like that." his voice is gentle, unlike the way he was moving inside of you moments ago. he twines his arms around your waist as you both catch your breath, the broad muscle of his chest firm against your back. your eyes are closed and your entire body is relaxed, held up by geto's sturdy frame.

"you guys didn't come," you manage to say, voice thick. you feel geto's chest rumble as he laughs, low and deep in your ear.

"that's very kind of you to be concerned," he says, soft smile audible in his voice. "but it's all good. we like to draw things out."

you feel the bed dip as gojo climbs back on, the click of a bottle cap echoing in the quiet of the room.

"we're going to give you a bit of a break," gojo tells you, voice teasing. "you can relax and enjoy the show."

you blink blearily, limbs liquified as geto lifts you off and carefully sets you to his side, wrapping an arm around you as you curl up beside him. you watch while gojo lubes him up again, twisting his wrist knowingly when he meets the head. gojo glances up and they share a private moment, conversing without words. you're content to watch as an intimate smile graces geto's features and gojo leans forward to peck him on the lips, still stroking all the while.

geto withdraws his arm from around you, sitting up to settle gojo on top of his thighs. he spreads gojo's legs over his own, their faces close enough to share the same breath. the lube reappears and gojo leans his weight onto his palm, watching as geto squeezes some over his fingers. they're in an incredibly intimate position, almost lotus-like, legs folded together and gojo's other hand braced on geto's shoulder.

geto slides the first finger inside of gojo with so much confidence that it's obvious they've done this a thousand times before. gojo's spine arches and he exhales hard, eyelids fluttering shut as geto starts stretching him out. geto's dark eyes are trained on his disappearing finger, and you can see gojo's hand tensing around his shoulders. gojo's shaky breaths echo around the room when geto adds another finger, thrusting with more urgency. there's a squelching sound every time his hand meets gojo's ass, and you watch in awe as gojo takes it like he was fucking born for nothing else.

they're both hard as hell, and you're starting to wonder if it's getting painful. you don't have time to contemplate this thought for long before geto's up to three fingers and he changes the angle of his hand, gojo's body jerking violently as geto deliberately hits his spot. geto cranes his neck to suckle at gojo’s nipple, smirking into his chest when he mewls. he squeezes gojo's ass with his free hand and continues pressing his spot as gojo spasms, his lips parted in a soundless moan.

geto carefully withdraws his hand, kissing gojo softly on the lips before taking his wrists and pulling him up onto his knees. geto climbs off the bed, going to stand behind gojo. his eyes flicker over to you and you meet his gaze, cloudy with want. geto doesn't look away as he pushes himself inside of gojo, his arms wrapping around gojo's torso to tug him up against his chest. he starts thrusting carefully, letting gojo adjust to the feeling of his full length inside of him.

you can feel yourself getting wet again as geto finally closes his eyes, pressing his mouth to gojo's neck as he pulls out slowly, bringing his hips forward again. you're brimming with hunger as you watch their bodies move together, geto's one hand wrapped around gojo's throat and the other pressed flat to his chest, holding him upright. gojo is making low noises, quiet ungh-ungh-unghs as geto fills him up, again and again.

"who do you belong to?" geto grunts into his neck, hand tightening around his throat, gojo’s adam’s apple protruding between his fingers.

gojo breathes out a shuddering exhale, his knees and shins pressed into the mattress. his entire weight is leaned onto geto, who's somehow supporting him and fucking him simultaneously.

gojo bites his lip, furrowing his brow. you can see the muscles of geto's ass flexing as he plunges into gojo, not letting up for even a second.

"well," gojo rasps, sounding like he's going for contemplative but ending up wanton instead. "you'll just have to ask george clooney."

geto’s balls slap gojo's ass when he delivers a particularly punishing thrust, pushing all the air out of gojo in a loud huff.

"are you sure about that?" geto sounds remarkably composed for a man who's inside another man's ass.

gojo is only able to make a noise of affirmation in response, a strained uh-huh through his teeth. his giggle is breathless when geto releases his throat to slap his cheek, the thwack loud in the quiet.

"why don't you try again," geto's voice is rough and he changes angles, finding exactly what he's searching for when gojo's body jackknifes into his chest.

"fine, you got me,” gojo moans, throwing his head back onto geto's shoulder. "tell george that i'm —ah!— cheating on him with matt damon.”

this was clearly not the answer geto was looking for. he quickens his pace, slamming his hips hard enough into gojo’s ass to bruise. reaching a hand around to wrap around gojo’s length, his fist is a blur as he strokes in time with his thrusts.

“who do you belong to?” geto says again, strained but still pointed, leaving no room for argument. gojo’s body is strung taut, every muscle tensed with his mouth open and face pinched tight as the bed shakes.

you can only stare as the veins pop out of gojo's neck, abs contracting with his back arched against geto's chest. "i h— i heard idris elba is free— agh!"

geto releases him and pulls out in the same second, taking a full step backwards. gojo lets out a sound that sounds like a sob, body folding in half at the sudden, overwhelming emptiness.

geto continues to stand there, unmoving and unflinching. he's hard as a rock but he looks like he could wait forever as gojo curls in on himself, distraught by the lack of sensation.

gojo whimpers brokenly and brings a hand to his mouth to stifle the sound, his body visibly aching with need. "you," he sobs, on the verge of tears when it finally comes out. "only you. always you."

geto nods, just once, and the relief on gojo's face is palpable when geto yanks him upright and pushes back inside of him in one snap of his hips. geto's rhythm is harsh as he takes gojo again in his other hand, squeezing from root to tip. geto swipes his thumb over the head and gojo makes a choked-off noise, turning his head over his shoulder to tangle their tongues together.

"brat," geto says into his mouth, to which gojo can only whine in agreement.

they're both breathing heavily and it's the hottest thing you've ever fucking seen, the pleasure visible on both of their faces. gojo is biting his lip, eyes scrunched shut, and sweat is beading at geto's temple as he moves, his brows creased. gojo's mouth falls open and he keens, high and loud, body rocking into geto's as they have sex in front of you.

you just met him a few hours ago but you can tell gojo is close, his breaths growing ragged and moans increasing in pitch as he nears climax. right before the event horizon, geto lets go of gojo, stilling his movements but remaining inside of him. gojo lets out an aggravated groan and cracks an eye open, turning his head to look at you.

"this is where you come in, princess," he manages, speech almost slurred. "come here."

he doesn't have to tell you twice. scampering over, you comply when gojo motions for you to turn around. his grip is tight on your ass when he brings your hips back, the hard length of him pressing into the wetness pooled between your legs. he slips inside of your tight heat effortlessly, filling you to the hilt as geto starts fucking him again. gojo is stretching you out and you love the feeling of being so damn full, head hanging low and breasts swaying with the motion as geto fucks gojo and gojo fucks you.

the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you're seeing stars as gojo makes high-pitched sounds, geto's panting filling up the spaces in between his whimpers. it's quite possibly the most erotic thing you've ever experienced, having one man inside of you while another man is inside of him. you can't help but wonder how it feels for gojo, filling up one person with someone else filling him up simultaneously.

they're moving in time with each other, and you hear gojo's breathing become frantic as he gasps. the force of geto's thrusts are pushing him forwards into you, nudging his head repeatedly into your cervix. gojo's palms are hot on your hips, and you feel more than see his body tense up as he approaches orgasm. a loud gasp is pushed out of his chest when geto reaches around to pinch his nipples. 

gojo chokes on air, rutting forward into you and pushing himself back onto geto in the same moment. he sounds wrecked with sensation as geto doesn't stop for a second, pounding into him while you clench and milk him for all he's worth.

"fuck, suguru, i'm gonna— fuck, i'm coming," gojo cries, spilling deep inside of you. geto fucks him through it, pushing gojo's load deeper inside of you as he keeps coming. gojo has stopped moving and just rides out his climax, grip loosening around your hips. geto's forcing him forwards into you over and over again, the motion bracketed by gojo's unfettered groans and his own harsh panting. after a long minute, you feel geto pull out of gojo and gojo pull out of you, the lewd noises juxtaposed against the soft music still playing.

gojo flops down onto the bed beside you, chest heaving. geto disappears into the bathroom only to reappear moments later with a damp towel, which gojo catches in one hand. he goes again into the bathroom and you hear the sound of the shower starting up.

"what's he doing?" you ask, watching gojo's chest rise and fall. he holds up a finger, slowing his breathing before he answers you.

"cleaning himself up," he says between lungfuls of air. he turns his head to look at you and winks. "he needs to wash up for what we have planned next with you."

you don't have time to ponder exactly what that could entail before gojo suddenly sits up and manhandles you onto your back, his hands pushing your collarbones. you can feel his release leaking out of you, slippery in between your thighs.

"remember what i said about asking nicely?" his blue eyes are piercing as they bore into yours. gojo is close enough that you can count his eyelashes, and you catch the lingering scent of ysl’s black opium cologne. you swallow, toes tingling at the sheer proximity.

he leans into you and you're dumbstruck by the broadness of him as he cages you in, dipping his head down to brush his nose against yours. barely breathing, you have to bite back a whimper as gojo’s mouth moves to your throat.

"manners are important, you know." sucking hungrily, he spreads your legs with a knee, reaching down to clean up the mess he made inside of you.

"shocked that you would know, seeing as you don't have any," you choke out, nails scrabbling at his shoulder blades while he wipes you clean, the light touch of gojo's hand stark in contrast to the teeth at your throat. you feel him grin into your skin.

"i'm demonstrating them right now, aren’t i?" you can't tell if you're wet from him coming inside of you or from the way he's touching you, once again too much and not enough all at once.

"don't gentlemen always clean up the messes they make?" gojo asks rhetorically, lips moving on your skin. "i'm nothing if not a gentleman."

"and i'm the goddamn president," your voice wobbles but it comes out sufficiently derisory for you in this moment. "since we're telling jokes now."

gojo bites, sucking hard enough to leave a purpled bruise. you can't stop your hand from twisting in his hair, your body arching up into him.

"i know what you want," gojo’s voice is low as he tilts your jaw up for better access, his mouth hot on your neck. he throws the soiled towel aside without looking. "and i'm not going to give it to you until you ask. nicely. "

he moves down your body, leaving bruising kisses along your sternum, your ribs, your hipbones. his palms are cool when they press into your knees, pushing your legs apart so he can kneel between them. gojo looks up at you from beneath his lashes, daring you to retort.

"i know you can do it," he drawls, voice lilting in condescension. he grazes a finger through your slick folds, darting away when your eyelids flutter. "all you need to do is ask."

sheets clenched in your hands, you bite your lip. looking down, you appraise the cocky grin on gojo's face, his eyebrow raised in challenge. he's a bitch, for sure, but it takes one to know one.

"no," is all you say, watching his gaze darken. "i don't think i will."

gojo's mouth is above your clit in a flash, breath hot on your slick lips. your hips buck up involuntarily and he leans back, laughing. you kick at his chest with a foot, resisting the urge to pout.

"come on, it won't kill you," he says mockingly. "it might even do you good to learn some manners." 

his hands are firm on your hipbones and he dips his head back down, breathing along your lips. every fibre of your being is on fire and you want it so bad it hurts, throbbing hotly at your core but you will not give him the goddamn satisfaction.

he presses open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs, snickering at the sharp inhale through your nose when he scrapes the thin skin with his teeth. an accidental moan slips from your mouth when he sucks a hickey into your hip, the hand that flies up to stifle it coming too late.

heart racing, a devious smile suddenly quirks your lips. "i don't need to ask," you say, tone just as mocking as gojo's. "to know geto is better at eating me out."

gojo stills against you, his mouth hot on your skin. he draws back slowly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. his grip tightens around your hips and you meet his gaze unwaveringly, watching as a shadow passes over his features.

he cocks his head, looking all the world like a predator about to snatch his prey.

"you know," he begins, and there's nothing joking or lighthearted in his tone this time. "suguru got to have his dessert, but i never got to have mine."

there's no time to ready yourself before gojo's mouth is on you, his tongue sliding inside to your centre without hesitation. your hips jerk up and he's holding you down as he licks into you, tongue caressing your walls. you cry out, one hand gripping the sheets and the other twisted in his hair. you're struck by the thought that he can probably taste himself but judging from the way he's eating you out, he clearly doesn't care.

gojo's head is moving beneath your hand as he continues ravaging you, pulling back only for a second to release one of your hips. when his hand enters you, his fingers somehow feel even deeper than his entire length did ten minutes ago. gojo is unrelenting, pushing his index and middle fingers in and out so quickly you're choking on air. every nerve in your body has been set alight, silvery ecstasy coursing through your veins like drugs as he doesn’t stop. 

he's suctioned his lips around your clit, not coming up for air as his hand pumps inside of you. gojo's mouth is warm and wet as he licks and he doesn't let up even when you spasm, his forearm firm across your pelvis to hold you down while his fingers hit your spot, again and again.

you can't even moan because you can't breathe. your eyes are scrunched shut and your back is arched off the bed. you don't have to look to feel his nose pressed into the top of your mound as gojo eats you out like he's fallen ill and your folds are hiding the antidote.

you're just about to come and he stops all at once, removing his hand with a squelch and releasing your clit from between his lips. you blink blearily, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you peer down at him. gojo's got a challenging look on his face, staring up at you resolutely.

"say please," he says, and you're about to shake your head when he leans closer to you, lips gleaming and chin slick. he trails a finger through your folds, dripping from how close you are and his own saliva. gojo's fingertip circles your clit without touching it, his touch featherlight.

"if you want to come," his voice is low, without mirth. "say it."

every cell in your body has been besieged by want and it seems like he can tell, the little shit. the corner of his mouth curls upwards when he pulls back and your body involuntarily lurches up, like it's following him. you're stubborn and you hate losing but you also really, really fucking need to finish under his tongue.

you bite your lip, the haze in your mind leaving you thoughtless save for one aching need. gojo's blue eyes flash and you're suddenly reminded of the snake, right before it entices eve into eating the apple.

his mouth is set in a firm line, expression resolute. there’s fire simmering beneath your skin and you’re absolutely burning with it, tossing your pride aside as the word finally leaves your mouth. 

"please," you choke out, and his mouth splits into a smug grin, teeth shining as brightly as his hair. you only have a moment to feel intense annoyance before gojo's lips are back on yours and the feeling is instantly replaced with mind-numbing pleasure, every endorphin in your brain releasing all at once.

he's thrown your legs over his shoulders, jaw working furiously while his tongue licks into you. gojo's long fingers slip back inside of you seamlessly, aided by how wet you are and his saliva. his other hand leaves your hip and he spreads your folds with his fingers, pushing your clit out and creating the perfect conditions for him to latch his lips around it and suck.

"oh, god," you wail, both hands fisting in his air and toes curling over gojo’s shoulders. you’re heaving shallow breaths but he doesn't stop, his fingers plunging in and out of you as he sucks hard, cheeks hollowing and teeth nipping gently at the bud. you’re absolutely drowning in it, choking on air and limbs jerking when you cry out and come. your thighs squeeze his head and he probably can't breathe but you don't care and neither does he as gojo basically lets you fuck his face, taking all of you and then some.

it just keeps going, and going, and going. gojo doesn't come up for air, suckling at your clit even as you sag back onto the bed, spent. he slowly withdraws his head from between your legs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. geto reappears, his body damp, and you crack an eye open to appraise his lithe form.

"she said i'm better at eating her out," gojo winks conspiratorially, waggling his eyebrows at you and hopping off the bed to stand up.

you don't have the strength to rebut but you don’t have to because geto rolls his eyes, climbing onto the bed to help you sit up. "i'm fairly certain she didn't."

geto reaches into a bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of water. he unscrews the cap and raises it to your lips, his other hand supporting your back as he helps you drink.

"we're giving you another break," geto's voice is soft but his eyes are dark as you nod weakly, water trickling down your chin. geto’s touch is tender on your jaw as he thumbs at the droplets, taking the bottle from you when you're done and propping you up with a pillow. he leans in close, his loose hair falling into his face, to stroke your cheek, gaze never leaving yours.

"watch closely, okay?" he says, and you have the feeling that it isn't a question, despite being phrased as one. you're sitting on one side of the bed, which is massive enough that all three of you and probably a few more could lay comfortably side-by-side with enough room to spare. gojo turns on the fireplace, the embers crackling to life as he draws the curtains closed, casting the room in a warm glow.

gojo walks back to the bed with palpable intent guiding his footsteps, blue eyes fixed on geto. with eyes only for each other, you watch as gojo climbs onto the bed and on top of geto, whose palm has come to rest around gojo's waist, their gazes locked.

a soft sigh falls from geto's lips when gojo begins pressing tender kisses down his neck. touching him in an achingly affectionate way that seems almost uncharacteristic, gojo's hands are reverent as they hold geto’s body close. they're both achingly hard again but there's nothing rushed about the way gojo's lips are moving against his skin, every hitched breath and shuddering exhale deafeningly loud in the silence of the room.

gojo takes his time, making sure there’s not an inch of geto’s body left unmarked by his lips. he’s everywhere— at geto’s ribs, his navel, his thighs, his hipbone. the sound of geto sighing wafts into your ears like smoke, and gojo parts his legs slowly, palms on the inside of his knees. you watch gojo kneel between his legs like he’s praying, taking a long moment to stare up at geto, who meets his gaze unblinkingly. there’s a long moment where they just breathe together, having another silent conversation meant for the two of them alone. 

you have the inescapable sense that you’re being let in on something precious, confirmed by the careful way gojo dips his head down in between geto’s thighs. he brings geto’s legs over his shoulders and geto reaches down to stroke his hair, carding his fingers through the soft strands. from where you’re sitting beside them, gojo’s lowered head is obscured by geto’s thighs, but the way geto inhales sharply through his nose lets you ascertain the moment gojo’s tongue enters him. 

the way gojo licks into him is almost alien to the feral manner in which he was eating you out earlier, all tender kisses and measured swipes of his tongue. it’s like he’s a different person, his touch delicate on geto’s skin as he keeps his legs spread, head moving unhurriedly between his thighs. geto’s eyelids have fluttered closed, his dark hair pooled around his head as gojo continues lapping at him like gentle waves against a serene shore. 

the only noises in the room are geto’s slow breaths and the wet sounds of gojo’s mouth, geto’s hardness untouched between them. he hasn’t made any move to touch himself and neither has gojo, and you watch as his body ripples with bliss, toes flexing over gojo’s shoulders. 

after several long minutes, gojo lifts his head, dropping soft kisses up geto’s thigh as he lays his legs back down onto the bed. geto is breathing heavily, forearm slung over his eyes, as gojo leans over to open the bedside drawer, pulling out another bottle of water. he tips his head back, pouring water into his mouth and swishing it around before swallowing, capping the bottle and closing the drawer. he angles his body back over geto, touch featherlight across his clavicle. 

geto shivers when gojo ghosts a finger down his sternum, closing his eyes when gojo takes his lips in his own. he has one hand on gojo's shoulder, the other sliding up into his hair as their mouths move languidly together. gojo has tugged one of geto's legs around his waist, slow and deliberate, not at all similar to the way he did the same to you earlier. geto arches into him, and their bodies are so intertwined that it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins, like they've merged into one.

they're so close, in fact, that it takes you a full minute to realize gojo has been inside of geto for quite some time, his hips moving fluidly as geto wraps his arms around his shoulders and crosses his ankles behind gojo's back. his thrusts are measured, unhurried, and geto's eyes close when gojo dips his head down to nuzzle at his neck.

judging from the way he takes all of gojo effortlessly, you think that geto must have prepped in the shower. from your vantage point, you can see the muscles of gojo's back shifting as he moves, geto exhaling loudly as gojo gently picks up the pace, thrusting slowly like they could do this for the next ten, hundred, or even thousand years. the only thing you can hear are their measured breaths, the bed silent as gojo carefully brings his hips forward again and again.

geto makes a low noise and gojo understands, leaning back to lift geto's ankles onto his shoulders. it's only after he fills up geto for the dozenth time that gojo dips down, his hips never faltering, to capture geto's lips in his own. their mouths move against one another as their bodies are joined, geto's palms pressed flat to gojo's chest and gojo's hands wrapped around geto's thighs.

you watch them make love and it's breathtakingly intimate, breath hitching in your throat when they break apart and geto tucks a strand of gojo’s hair behind his ear. a slow smile spreads over gojo's face, nothing at all like the feral grin that split his lips earlier. he presses a tender kiss to the inside of geto’s calf, tilting his hips up and and letting out a soft chuckle when geto inhales sharply and his eyes snap shut, toes curling and fingers flexing against gojo's chest.

he still hasn't reached between geto's legs and you're starting to think geto must have the stamina of a fucking horse after being sucked and fucked both ways. geto opens his eyes and he meets gojo's gaze, who once again doesn't need words to understand. he pulls out of geto as smoothly as he entered him, climbing off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

geto sighs deeply, still on his back. for a long minute it's just the two of you in the quiet, and you twitch, heat pooling between your legs. he's on top of you in the next moment, pushing away the pillow supporting your body to lay you flat on the bed. "you were watching, right?"

you nod, thinking that it must be evident from how wet you are. geto's hands are braced on either side of your head and he's pulled your legs over his hips, his hair tickling your neck as his head bows down. he's radiating warmth and you catch a whiff of the same versace cologne, musky as he licks an unhurried stripe up your neck.

the energy in the room is charged and you watch his biceps tense, your gaze dropping to the firm muscle of his chest as the firelight lends his body an otherworldly halo. tilting your chin up, geto doesn't look away when he slides into you, his hips meeting yours in one deliberate thrust. your world has been reduced to one point of contact and you're melting into oblivion as geto stays unmoving deep inside of your wet heat, anchored by your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

you're staring so deeply into his eyes that you could drown as he just stays there, completely still as your walls clench around him. your mouth is an inch from his own, breaths mingling in the quiet. the room is completely silent save for the distant hum of the shower and the crackle of the fireplace, tempered by your shallow breathing. geto looks at you through hooded eyelids, tingles shooting down to your toes as he visibly holds himself back, trembling with the effort. you’re acutely aware of your heartbeat, thundering in your ears. 

when geto finally draws back and brings himself into you again, it's so good you could cry. the sex is made even more intense by the way he continues to stare through you, dark eyes glittering. never breaking eye contact, he purposefully snaps his hips again, and again, and again, each measured thrust metered by the sighs that escape your lips. your hands slide down from his neck and you can feel the muscle and sinew of his back shifting while he moves, your every sense overtaken by him as he continues to roll his hips. every time his head brushes your cervix your body undulates with pleasure, reducing you to a puddle in his arms. 

geto lowers his head, breath hot against your neck, and you think about the fact that he’s the only one who hasn’t come yet. your bodies are pressed together and you can feel every inch of him as he moves inside of you, deliberate and restrained. you can tell he’s yearning for more but he doesn’t let himself have it, tensely grasping your jaw when you arch up into his chest. he doesn’t pick up the pace even when you rest your hands on his ass, the muscle flexing beneath your fingers as he just keeps going, each thrust calculated and purposeful when he slides in and out of you. chest to chest, you breathe with him, his body firm beneath your palms. he's staring endlessly into your eyes, his own so dark that they could hold the universe. 

you think you could come, just like this, and it's almost like geto can read your thoughts because he stops all at once, pulling out and leaving you devastatingly empty. you’re aching at the loss but distracted by gojo as he suddenly reappears, water dripping in rivulets down his chest. geto holds a hand out behind him, accepting the lube without looking.

"you said you were good with everything, right?" geto turns to glance at you, who can once again only nod in response. geto takes your hand to bring you into an upright position, gojo going to sit behind you and it's reminiscent of before, with his damp skin pressed to your shoulder blades and geto between your legs.

geto squeezes lube onto his fingers, rubbing his palms together to warm them up. he looks up at you through his lashes, dark and daring.

you nod, just once, and geto’s first finger enters your ass with so much confidence that it feels like this is his fucking profession. gojo's palms are again around your breasts, mouth hot on your nape. your breath hitches in your throat when geto adds another finger, scissoring them inside of your ass, his other hand tight on your thigh. groaning low and long, your palms come up to rest on top of gojo's hands as his tongue laps wetly at your skin. he suddenly bites at your shoulder and you don't have the energy to swat at him, making a harrumph sound when he chuckles into your neck.

"you're up to three fingers now, did you know that?" geto says quietly, and you glance down at his wrist as it moves between your legs. damn, he's right.

geto's other hand smooths down your thigh, palm warm on your skin. "you're doing so good."

you can feel geto moving his hand inside of you as gojo presses a lingering kiss to your nape, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest, his legs encasing both of yours. his warmth envelops you as you just breathe, geto's fingers stretching you out.

you feel gojo smile into your skin. "the little lady must be tired, huh?"

your eyes are closed but you make a hmph noise, still lucid enough to retort. "i'm not a little lady, you dickhead."

gojo laughs, a hot puff of air against your neck, his arms snug around your waist. "i was talking about your clit."

chuckling breathlessly, you tip your head onto gojo's shoulder as geto continues scissoring his fingers inside of you. "okay, you're not wrong with that one."

one of gojo's arms slips out from their embrace and he leans to the side, opening the bedside drawer. his other arm suddenly retracts from around you too and your eyes snap open as your hands are yanked behind you, the click of handcuffs thunderously loud when they lock around your wrists.

you swallow hard, tugging on the restraints behind your back. nope, they're tightly secured. your heart is racing as geto removes his hand from your ass, gifting you with a view of his muscled back as he stands up and walks into the bathroom.

"first time being cuffed?" gojo asks knowingly from behind you, tracing a finger down your arm. you shiver, nodding stutteringly to the empty space in front of you. gojo rotates you in his lap to face him, your thighs on top of his own. the scent of his cologne is distinct, the notes of vanilla intensified by your proximity. 

gojo lowers his head to brush his nose against yours, and you absolutely thrill at the danger in his eyes when he leans back. "it takes a lot of trust," he says lowly, glancing down at your body. gojo looks up at you, gaze dark and rife with intent. "and we don't take that lightly."

he moves you both further down the bed, laying flat once he has enough room. you're sitting on his thighs and you feel him beneath your leg, hard and wanting.

geto's palms are cold and wet around your waist when they startle you from behind and you jolt, shuddering when he presses a lingering kiss to your nape. you're sopping again already and you want nothing more than to reach forward and snatch gojo by the shoulders to drag his lips onto yours but you can't.

wrists cuffed, your body is trapped between them with gojo at your front and geto at your back. icy anticipation shoots through your veins and lights a fire in your core. you're completely at their mercy now.

gojo sees it on your face and he doesn't make you ask this time as he lifts your thighs up to guide himself inside, not stopping until the flat plane of his hipbones are pressed against the swell of your ass. mouth wet on your neck, geto bites at your shoulder, reaching around to pinch a nipple before withdrawing his hand, the bed dipping as he climbs off.

gojo's grip is firm on your hips and your knees rest outside each of his thighs, wrists still bound behind your back. the next breath you release stutters as it leaves your lips, yet gojo doesn't move. you grind down onto him, lips puffy from overuse, and take the opportunity to luxuriate in being filled up. it's too fucking good, gojo nestled so deeply inside of you that you can feel him in your sternum.

he slowly raises your thighs up from below, bringing you back down just as carefully. you bite back a whimper, every sense heightened by the way gojo and geto can do absolutely whatever they want to you right now. he brings your hips together again, gradually picking up the pace when you openly groan, breasts bobbing as you ride him.

"she takes it so well, doesn't she?" geto says from behind you, the bed shifting as he climbs on again. gojo makes a noise of agreement, hands moving to your waist to steady you. geto cups your ass, urging you on to help you ride gojo more thoroughly.

"like she was born for it," gojo agrees, squeezing your waist in his hands. one of his fingertips wanders up to your breast, dancing around a nipple. you gasp, wrists straining against the cuffs as gojo retracts, his hand rejoining the other at your waist.

you're moving together and gojo is right there every time you sink back down, thrusting up to meet you. he was right, your clit is tired, and you think that maybe you could come from this alone if he just keeps going. there's a click of a cap, the sound of lube being pushed out of a bottle, but you barely hear it, your nerves strung tight with sensation. 

all of a sudden, there are palms on your spine, pressing you down onto gojo’s chest as he continues pumping his hips, his balls making a lewd sound when they slap your ass. you have no choice but to comply and you choke on air as gojo doesn't stop, the angle changing when you slant forward and allowing him to hit your spot. with your wrists behind your back, you would have fallen onto him but gojo is holding you up, one palm warm around your waist and the other supporting your shoulder.

he's fucking you earnestly now, your face an inch above his own. gojo's breathing hard, sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat as your bodies undulate against each other. once again, you ache to take his lips in yours but he doesn't let you, keeping you in place as he keeps pounding himself into you. you’re drunk with it, throwing your head back as pleasure radiates out from your core. 

there's movement behind you as geto rises up on his knees, one of his hands resting on your ass as it moves up and down. he pushes your spine down even more, raising your ass in the air and gojo is ready, meeting you with his tongue and licking into your mouth. ass up and face down, your veins are flooded with icy hot anticipation and you moan into his teeth, arms twisting futilely behind your back as the cuffs hold you in place. 

time grates to a halt when geto's tip breaches your ass, splitting you open from behind. you choke against gojo's lips, who stops moving, breaking away to let geto enter you properly. he's still holding you up as your head falls forward, dropping towards your chest.

"you okay?" gojo's voice is soft but laden with concern, one of his hands coming up to grasp at your jaw. he lifts your chin to meet his eyes and you're in a daze, the pressure overwhelming as geto continues pushing into you for what feels like an eternity. you nod jerkily, chin moving in his hand, and gojo brings you down to his chest, holding you close as geto keeps going until he's fully inside you at the other end.

there's a long moment where you just breathe, face pressed into gojo's shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around you. if you thought you felt full before that was nothing compared to how you feel right now. you're absolutely stuffed to the brim and there's no room left in your lungs for oxygen, every cavern and crevice of your body filled to the brim with nothing but them. 

it's not quite painful but it definitely is a lot, both men shoved in to the hilt. there's only a singular velvety wall separating them and you can feel gojo and geto pressed against each other inside of you. they're still not moving, gojo's palms smoothing up and down your back as he and geto let you adjust to their simultaneous penetration.

you shift your weight and your senses are instantly overwhelmed in a way you've never felt before, every fibre of your being set alight with sensation as hot ecstasy erupts throughout your body. drooping further into gojo's shoulder, you let out a primal groan, unable to produce speech. he makes a knowing noise deep in his throat, a low mhmm-hmm, and gently props you up, holding your torso above his own. the motion moves both of them inside of you and you have to bite back a genuine wail as you feel their thicknesses rub together, hot and hard between your walls.

"just tell us when," gojo says, supporting your entire body like you weigh nothing. geto's palms are warm on your hips from behind and he strokes, soothing. "there's no rush."

geto makes an affirmative sound, the noise loud in the pin-drop silence. you would say something but you're devastated by proximity, gojo inside of you one way and geto in another. your entire being has been subsumed and you're lost in the ocean of their bodies, drifting in the warmth of their hands, the slowness of their breaths, the distinct smell of expensive cologne and sex.

carefully patting your hip, you blink your eyes open as geto gently brings you to the surface. gojo is looking at you, unhurried and steady, and you can feel the same surety radiating from geto behind you.

you heave a shuddering breath, feeling them beneath your skin, in your bones, as they reach into the deepest caverns and crevices of your body. you've never been more certain of anything else in your life when you look at gojo’s face, exhaling loudly to say one word. 

"move."

they don't have to be told twice. gojo pulls out of you in the same instant as geto, both snapping their hips forward to meet at the centre of you. the cry that escapes your mouth is deafening, and the sound is punched out of you again, and again, and again as they thrust together, filling you up beyond measure. you feel like you're going to overflow, brain short-circuiting and body sagging in gojo's hands as he keeps holding you up while he moves alongside geto.

geto quickens his pace and their timing changes, gojo plunging into you in the moment that geto draws himself back. you're not empty for a single second and you fucking love it, choking on air when gojo cranes his neck down to lick your areola. the sounds the three of you are making are absolutely filthy, heavy panting and skin slapping skin as your bodies move together. it's almost like gojo and geto are connected through you and you’re punch-drunk, body moving forwards and backwards on their lengths as they fuck you simultaneously.

you have hands all over you, geto's fingers digging into your hips tight enough that you'll have bruises tomorrow, gojo's arms wrapped around your torso with his palms flat on the skin of your back. you're delirious with it, eyes rolling back as gojo pushes you into a more upright position and in doing so shoves you onto geto, who thrusts forward at the same moment that gojo hits your spot. one of them inside of you was overwhelming but both feels world-ending, pleasure erupting from everywhere and flowing all the way into your fingers and toes. 

you're utterly incapable of speech at this point and you're spewing nonsense; things that sound like words but aren't, guttural moans pouring out of you like rain. your breasts are bouncing furiously and you've never felt like this in your life, each man fucking one of your holes like it's his last day on earth.

arms spasming in the restraints, you keen, high and loud. something visceral has taken over you and the pace they've set inside of you is so much yet somehow still not enough. you need to touch yourself but you can't and you want more, you fucking need more.

"h—harder," you choke, straining against the cuffs. you're aching with desire and burning for release as your entire body is pulled taut by a string that threads through all three of you. "fuck me harder."

the atmosphere in the room changes immediately. gojo's eyes flash and his fingers flex around your waist, the bed shifting as he presses his heels into the mattress to pound into you from below. geto speeds up behind you, thrusting into your ass uninhibited. you can feel them sliding together inside of you and you're fucking choking on air, spluttering as they piston in out of you at light speed.

you're suddenly yanked backwards when a hand grabs you by the cuffs, geto's grip a vice around your wrists. he doesn't stop pushing himself inside of your ass, using your weight as leverage as he leans away to thrust deeper. his free hand seizes a fistful of your hair, pulling your head backwards and shooting tingles of prickly pleasure down to your toes. with your back bowed, you're basically suspended above gojo, geto's position and his hold on your wrists creating an equilibrium between the two of you that lets him support your weight.

the position has consequently raised your face above gojo’s mouth, who hungrily claims your lips with his own while he continues pulling your hips down onto himself from below. you're teary-eyed from sensory overload, gasping against gojo's lips as geto keeps snapping his hips forwards into you, your folds squelching lewdly as gojo does the same. the scent of their cologne and the smell of sex hangs heavy in the air, stifling your lungs as you struggle to suck down air. 

“do—don’t,” you rasp into gojo’s mouth, drunk with the sensation of two hot, hard lengths moving together inside of you. “don’t —ungh— stop.” 

the friction is delicious and it seems like geto thinks so too, his breaths growing laboured behind you. a gasp is punched out of your lungs when he releases your hair to slap your ass hard , the crack audible even amongst all the noises the three of you are making. geto lets go of your wrists to dig his fingers into your hips once more, forcing your spine into a slope as he brings you back onto himself at a punishing speed. gojo’s length keeps rubbing into his inside of you and geto is absolutely losing himself in it, fucking you carnally as you feel more than see him finally approach climax.

gojo breaks away and he isn't looking at you anymore, staring past your face at geto, whose eyes are scrunched shut as he jackrabbits his hips. the way he's moving and the sounds he's making are borderline animalistic, all grunts and heavy breathing. geto is unraveling, his movements turning frantic and you can't do anything but take it as he pushes into you over and over again, single-mindedly chasing his own release.

gojo is still thrusting up into you and from the way he's tensed up you can tell that he's close too, but he's not focused on your pleasure or his own right now. his eyes never leave geto, whose lips have parted as he lets himself pump his hips freely into your ass. your entire body jolts from the movement, anchored by gojo's firm arm around your waist and his length still moving inside of you.

"suguru," comes gojo's voice, pointed and direct. geto opens his eyes and looks at gojo, who's wearing the most serious expression you've ever seen on his face. gojo's tone leaves no room for argument when he speaks.

"come."

geto makes a strangled noise and then it's happening all at once, his rhythm stuttering as his balls tighten and he finally, finally orgasms. he's spurting hotly into your ass and it's neverending— geto just continues coming, filling you up with his seed as his body jerks violently, wracked with pleasure.

inside of you, gojo's length has continued to press against geto’s throughout his climax, and he doesn't stop thrusting even as geto comes down. he actually speeds up when geto begins to soften inside of your ass, sitting up and dragging you onto his lap after geto pulls out.  

the desire to rub your clit is so overpowering that you feel like you might actually die. your head twists despairingly over your shoulder, trying to implore geto to take your cuffs off, when a firm hand grabs your chin and turns your head back around.

gojo's gaze is unwavering as he releases your chin to grab the flesh of your ass, thrusting up and ignoring your eyes blown wide in need.

"don't look at him," his voice is even as it cuts through the frenzied wail that escapes your clenched teeth. "look at me."

you're struggling to comply because you've hit your limit— it's all too fucking much, geto’s come is slippery between your cheeks and you’re aching so hard it hurts because you need to come now. you’re gasping so deeply that it sounds like you’re choking but he doesn't care, bouncing you in his lap even as you whine from oversensitivity.

"didn't you hear me?" it sounds like a question but gojo isn't asking. you can't form words, rendered incoherent by the hurricane of sensation. you can feel him getting close too but he supersedes his own desire to finish, focusing entirely on the task at hand.

gojo's fingers tighten around your jaw, his tone just as unforgiving.

"look. at. me. "

it's akin to weathering a torrential downpour when you muster up every ounce of strength left in your feeble body to open your eyes, meeting gojo's unblinking gaze. you're struggling to suck down air while he stares into your soul, slamming you down onto himself for the last time as he spills deep inside of you, coming so hard his eyes roll back in his head. you're still moving in his lap and you're babbling incoherently as he fills you to the brim, his load and geto's separated only by a thin wall inside of you.

gojo exhales harshly, pumping his hips through the aftershocks as you milk him dry. you're trying not to let the despair show outwardly on your face and you're tugging despondently at the cuffs, thrashing so hard in the restraints that your wrists are bruising. it's only because your eyes are open that you see the wicked grin suddenly quirk gojo's lips, and you're powerless to do anything as he abruptly shoves you backwards into geto's waiting arms.

"you didn't think we forgot, did you?" gojo asks devilishly. geto's hands are warm around your chest and his fingers are pinching your nipples as gojo thrusts up, hard, and directly rails your spot at the same moment his hand darts down to thumb at your swollen clit.

the tension inside your core snaps like a rubber band and the sensory processing centre in your brain implodes instantly, every cell in your body igniting all at once. the raw ecstasy that courses through your veins is so visceral that you feel high, floating somewhere outside of your body as it just doesn’t stop. you barely register that you’re releasing wave after wave of liquid around gojo as your limbs convulse helplessly against geto's chest, every fibre of your being utterly consumed by sensation. the last thing you hear before passing out is gojo's breathless laughter, blackness engulfing the edges of your vision as you fall endlessly into geto's arms. 

*****

you don’t know how much time has passed when strong arms scoop you up, wrapping around your shoulders and under the backs of your knees, carrying your limp body like you weigh nothing. your hand falls toward the floor and you absently wonder when the cuffs were taken off, your other arm folded into a warm chest. head lolling towards a collarbone, the scent of jasmine permeates the corners of your subconscious. you’re distantly aware of being carried into the bathroom, cradled with painstaking care. 

there’s movement around you, the sound of footsteps and taps being turned on, the slow rush of water as it fills up the tub. your eyes are still closed when you’re carefully passed from one pair of arms to another, enveloped by warm water as you’re settled against the smooth skin of a chest, arms wrapping securely around your middle. 

you’re resting on top of firm thighs, enveloped by warmth. you would open your eyes but you can’t because your body isn’t listening, limbs unresponsive and head thick with cottonwool. low sounds are falling from your lips, incoherent murmurs punctuated by the air you forcibly drag into your lungs, made nearly impossible because every fibre of your being is utterly spent. you’re suspended in the water and in this moment in time, succumbing to the black hole created by the vortex of sensation. you’re anchored by the body holding you close, palms around your middle and skin against your spine. a soft kiss is dropped on your nape before your head is gently tilted onto the smooth plane of a shoulder, your throat exposed. 

behind your head, there are hands lathering up your hair, working shampoo into your roots and massaging your scalp. you make a satisfied noise, deep in your throat as the scent of citrus fills the room. shampoo is smoothed all the way to the ends of your hair before the hands retract and you hear footsteps walk around to the other side of the tub, the water rising as another body steps in. once again, you’re passed to waiting arms, a hand settling around your midsection while the other supports your spine. another pair of hands begins to wash the product out of your hair from behind as you’re held chest to chest, rinsing your hair with the bathwater until all you can smell is citrusy shampoo. 

eyelids fluttering, you suddenly come face to face with geto, who’s blinking down at you. he smiles softly as gojo finishes washing your hair, pressing his lips to your forehead when you let out a gratified sigh. limbs still immobile, the water moves around you as he carefully hands you back to gojo, who’s ready at the other end of the tub. your body is completely pliant as gojo positions you slightly in front of him, leaving enough room between the two of you for his hands to rest comfortably on your shoulders, his thighs beneath yours. 

you sigh again, closing your eyes when gojo kneads the flesh of your shoulders, applying enough pressure to release the tension but not so much that it’s painful. bringing your feet onto his lap, geto presses his knuckles into the sole of your foot, dragging them down when you exhale. they massage you like you’re precious, every touch considerate. you melt, relaxed both by the water and their slow hands. 

geto releases your feet and then there’s the sound of a pump, gojo still holding you up by the shoulders while geto begins to gently work soap into the curves and angles of your body, hands delicate on your skin. in the same moment, you hear gojo squeeze something onto his hands, fingers moving to your hair as he threads conditioner through the strands. 

blinking blearily, you raise a weary hand to your forehead, rubbing at a tender spot in the centre. geto gently catches your wrist in one hand, guiding it away from your face. 

“let us take care of you,” he says softly, submerging your hand beneath the surface of the water. “all you need to do is rest.”

gojo is rinsing your hair again and geto’s thumbs are rubbing tender circles into your temples, easing the hazy feeling in your mind. you’re trying your damnedest to keep your eyes open but you’re surrendering to exhaustion by the second, eyelids drooping as gojo finishes washing your hair. geto takes you in his arms once more when gojo stands up, climbing out of the tub to dry off. 

“you did so well,” geto murmurs into your neck. you would reply but your tongue is leaden, limbs loose as gojo lifts you out of the water, his chest warm against your cheek as he walks you both out of the bathroom and toward a waiting towel on the bed. he lays you flat before carefully unfolding your body to start the process of drying. the towel is fluffy and plush against your flesh and gojo takes great care in touching you, his breathing steady while he caresses your skin through the towel. 

being cleaned up has tired you out and you’re losing your grip on consciousness, head heavy as your eyes close. there are hands supporting your back, raising a bottle to your mouth and gently parting your lips to help you drink. the water isn’t as much gulped as it is poured down your throat, cold seeping into your core. the chill is quickly replaced by a warm blanket, tugged up to your shoulders, and the sensation of two bodies, one bracketing either side of you. 

you’re warm with sleep, listening to the measured draw of their breaths as they inhale, exhale, inhale and exhale again. there’s a palm on your spine and another on your side as you fall into the abyss, content to let the yawning mouth of exhaustion swallow you whole. 

*****

when you wake up several hours later, you have no idea how much time has passed. the bed is empty save for you in the middle, cushioned by a border of pillows. you’re still naked but warmed by the cocoon of the blanket, which has trapped heat beneath its surface. collecting yourself, last night comes back to you all at once, flashes of hot mouths and firm hands and quick tongues. it was by far the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and probably also the best sex you will have until the end of it. 

you sit up, realizing that you’re so hungry you could definitely consume an elephant. your stomach rumbles in agreement and you’re starving but you almost don’t want to leave the bed to bear the cold world outside, the high thread count and goosefeather pillows enticing you to come back even as you stand up. there are clothes laid over a chaise in the corner; upon closer inspection, you see a comfortable bra and underwear, along with a sweater and leggings. your dress from last night is folded neatly, your lacy bra and fancy panties tucked discreetly into a bag beside it. 

glancing down at your body properly, you notice for the first time the bruises around your wrists, which are rubbed raw. you peer down at your chest, which is similarly bruised. still naked, you make your way to the bathroom, gasping at the sight of your body in the mirror. 

there’s no unmarred skin left on your neck; it’s absolutely littered with hickeys and bruises. your thighs are in a similar state, and you twist around to inspect your back, lovebites and marks scattered across your shoulder blades. your ass is bruised red and purple in the shape of fingerprints, the fading handprint impossible to miss across one of your cheeks. dimly, you register a dull throb between your legs. departing from the bathroom, you can’t help but be impressed because damn, they went to town on you. 

you tug the sweater over your head and pull the leggings on, both from designer brands. picking up your dress and the bag, you take a second to marvel at the stunning view before you leave. the residence is situated so high into the sky that you’re struck by the ridiculous thought that they both literally and figuratively took you to cloud nine. 

the suite is even more opulent in the daylight, white marble gleaming and tall arches cavernous as you walk down the hall towards the kitchen. gojo is perched on a barstool when you round the corner, tapping on his phone. geto is at the stove, flipping something in a pan. 

gojo perks up at the sound of your footsteps, spinning around in the stool. “the beast awakens!” 

you make a face at him, setting down your bag and dress onto the counter. “one of us is a beast, and it’s definitely not me.” 

gojo titters, spinning in his chair. “i knew my gut was right when i spotted you.”

there’s a plate piled high with pancakes waiting for you, still warm. syrup and butter are off to the side and you wince when you sit down, pain radiating from your ass even though the barstool’s leather is soft. 

geto turns around, holding a spatula and wearing an apron that says kiss the cook, but don’t touch the buns! the concerned expression on his face makes you bite back your smile. 

“you okay?” he asks, unconvinced when you nod. his brow furrows as he looks at you, scanning your body. “we went really hard last night, i’m sorry. you’re going to be sore for a while.” 

“you have nothing to be sorry about,” you say, picking up a knife and fork to dig into the pancakes. “i’ve never enjoyed anything more in my life.” 

geto chuckles, turning back to the pan. “i’m glad. we had a really good time, too.” 

you’re eating the pancakes with so much fervour that gojo glances up from his phone, an impressed look on his face. 

“we also have eggs and croissants, if pancakes aren’t the vibe,” geto says from the stove, his back still to you. your mouth is too stuffed with pancake to reply. 

“i think she’s fine with the pancakes,” gojo snickers, puffing his cheeks in imitation and ignoring the glare you cast in his direction. 

geto somehow senses that gojo is being a brat and turns around, brandishing his spatula. “the only reason we’re even having the breakfast of a kindergartner is because cavity-man over here needed his sugar fix.” he turns back around to flip a pancake presumably destined for said cavity-man’s stomach. 

“dentists love me,” gojo sniffs, hopping down from the barstool. he breaks the rule emblazoned on geto’s apron and squeezes his ass from behind, letting out a squawk when geto whirls around and smacks him with the spatula. 

cleaning your plate at a remarkable speed, you’re just starting to wonder where your phone and purse have gone when gojo appears with both in his hands. he makes no move to bring them to you and you sigh aggravatedly, climbing down from the barstool to take them from him yourself. 

he smirks evilly, holding them high in the air and far beyond your reach. “didn’t we have a conversation about manners?” 

you resist the urge to jump, mainly because your ass hurts too much to do so, and settle for scowling at gojo, who’s still holding your things tauntingly above your head. he’s so unbearably tall that any hope you have of swatting at his hands is laughable. 

geto walks over and reaches up, fingers plucking your phone and purse from gojo’s hands. he ignores gojo’s indignant huff as he hands them to you. 

“we’d love to give you our numbers,” he says, eyes kind. “if you’re up for it, we’d really like to do this again sometime.”

like a vampire, all you need is an invitation and you’ll just keep showing up forever. “i would love nothing more.” 

standing in front of both of them, you’re once again struck by how tall they are. gojo is leaning an arm onto geto’s shoulder, who’s still holding the spatula. they gaze at you and for a moment you’re reminded of last night. not usually one to be bashful, you duck your head, biting your lip. the events of last night will be staying with you for a while. 

“there’s a car waiting for you downstairs whenever you’re ready to go,” geto says, and you look up. “though we wouldn’t mind if you stayed a little longer.” 

gojo pushes away from geto, striding forward to grab your wrist and drag you into the living space. he plops you down onto the couch in front of a massive tv, taking your things from your hands and tossing them beside you.  

“you’re right, i’m a fucking beast at mario kart,” gojo drawls, opening something you didn’t realize was a drawer and pulling out two controllers. “i’m princess peach, of course.” 

you accept the controller, rolling your eyes. “why does that make so much sense?” 

gojo doesn’t dignify that with a response, turning on the switch before yelling into the kitchen where geto is still cooking. “suguru, i want extra sprinkles on my pancakes!” 

“kill yourself,” geto calls back. gojo takes this reply as an affirmative and jostles your shoulder, pointing at the nintendo logo when the screen flickers to life. “you can be bowser, since he looks just like you.” 

you can’t help but laugh, the smell of pancakes wafting into the room as gojo glances sideways, his eyes dancing. smiling to yourself, you conclude that being stood up is the best thing that ever could have happened to you.

[judasofsuburbia]

something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.

wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.

wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.

"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.

"i'm planning to."

"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.

"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.

"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."

the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.

"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.

"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.

"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."

steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.

"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.

"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."

"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.

eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."

steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."

right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.

"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.

"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."

eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"

"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.

"love it," eddie whispers.

"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.

"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.

over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.

"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."

"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."

"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.

wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.

"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.

"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.

"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.

"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.

eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.

steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.

"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.

"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."

"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."

"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.

steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.

"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."

"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.

eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"

"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."

"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.

steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"

"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.

steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."

"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.

steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."

eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."

steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.

"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.

"well i--" eddie stutters.

"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.

eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.

"wayne's meds," steve whispers.

"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"

steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Semifinals

Propaganda under the cut:

Sam/Dean:

I'm sorry but they have it all. children of metaphorical incest just continuing the cycle in any way they can. they are brothers and mother + son and wives and each other's scorned lovers and life partners they've had multiple infidelity arcs they are sexually psychopathic together they have forsook life and morality and the earth itself for each other and just love each other so much . They are literally in a heaven of their own making together for eternity, incestuously. Come on!!! Blueprint!!!!! It's not gay if he's your brother!!!!!

dean did stuff to sam's dead body in ahbl. i just know it

Messed-up, isolated sibs with all the daddy and abandonment issues. Their lives are so claustrophobic with the brothers no more than five feet apart in the car, a motel room, or standing next to civilians (face it, they are frigging magnets). Can't leave out that they are always touching each other to check for wounds which is a huge PLUS for any shipper.

Sam and Dean ARE literally the blowjob brothers. They walk into a situation and everyone goes well well well if it isn't the blowjob brothers....... And they say. Yep. That's us. And then they fix the situation with their epic love story

THE classic, iconic, show shopping, never done before etc. etc. incest ship. It changed fandom and it changed the world

Dave/Rose:

Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams

What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister

I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always

We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together

Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.

THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR

Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.

do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes

[hairmetal666]

au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.

Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.

The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.

As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.

Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.

Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.

Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.

After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.

Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.

"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.

They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.

She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."

"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."

"He's changed."

"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.

"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."

They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.

"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.

They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.

"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."

Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."

Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.

Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.

Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.

"Good?" Steve asks.

Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."

He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.

"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."

🎬🎸🎬🎸

Fifteen Months Later

"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"

Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.

There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.

"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.

The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.

"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.

"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.

"Liar," Steve answers.

Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."

"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.

Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."

Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.

Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.

His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.

[its-rach-writes]

A Panicked Dinner Party - Sirius Black

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You and Sirius go to the Potter's for backup when Harry brings one of his friends around for dinner.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, panicked James, everyone lives au

A/n: I have a love/hate relationship with canon, can you tell? Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! xxx

You were spritzing yourself with your favourite perfume before putting in the earrings that Sirius had got you for your birthday. Two strong arms wrapped around your waist and you were pulled into a toned chest. You giggled as he kissed your cheek, his stubble scratching against your skin.

“You look beautiful.”

You smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror as you leaned against him, “thank you,” you turned in his arms, fingers locking at the back of his neck as you pulled him into a proper kiss.

Sirius held your jaw gently as he kissed you back, “Mm,” he pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he let out a sigh, “do we have to go to this dinner?”

“Yes,” you laughed as he groaned, “we promised James and Lily.”

“If that little toe rag steps out of line,” he trailed off with a growl.

“Baby,” you cupped his cheeks, staring into his gorgeous grey eyes, “I don’t think Harry would be inviting him to dinner if he was going to be horrible.” Sirius nodded, letting out a slow breath, you pressed a lingering kiss against his lips, “let me get my shoes on, then we’ll go.”

Once your shoes were on, you both apparated to Godric’s Hollow. You laced your fingers through your husband’s – so he wouldn’t run – as you walked up the Potter’s path. Before you could knock, the door was pulled open. The relief that spread across Lily’s face was almost laughable as she let you in.

“Thank Merlin you’re here! And you brought the wine, good,” she gasped as you handed her the bottle of wine. Before you could ask what was wrong, she spoke up again, “James is driving me fucking nuts.”

Almost on cue, James came into the hallway, a hand in his hair, “don’t panic,” he mumbled to himself, that’s when he saw you and raced up to you, his hands on your shoulders, shaking you slightly, “don’t fucking panic!”

You tried to hold in your laughter but it was near impossible, “James, you’re the only one who’s panicking right now,” Remus laughed as he popped his head round the corner, waving at you and Sirius.

Remus’ voice seemed to bring James out of the trance he was in. He muttered a ‘sorry’ as he let you and Sirius come through.

“So, why are you panicking anyway?” you asked as you shrugged out of your jacket and Lily poured you a glass of wine.

Sirius scoffed, “I’m sure you would panic too if the world’s biggest prat was coming round to our house for dinner,” Sirius quickly shut up as you and Lily glared at him.

Lily sighed as she took a swallow wine, “James thinks Draco and Harry are dating.”

You and Sirius were too shocked to speak, it seemed amazing that Harry had befriended someone that he’d hated, in his final year of school. So, the notion of them dating seemed unlikely.

“What makes you think they’re dating?” Remus asked in a calm voice.

James bit at his thumbnail, “he’s never once talked about girls, he’s only ever talked about boys. First, it was Oliver Wood, then Cedric Diggory and now, Draco Malfoy,” a look of horror washed over his face as he sank against the counter, “Merlin, my son is gay and thinks he can’t tell me. I’ve failed as a parent.”

Lily kissed his cheek, “sweetheart, he knows he can tell you if he’s gay, all teenagers are secretive.”

“I’m not ready to meet Harry’s boyfriend,” he mumbled.

“James, it’ll be fine, that’s why you’ve got us,” you gestured to Remus and Sirius, “but it’s not going to be fine if the veggies burn,” you went over to turn the heat off. He let out a watery chuckle and stood up to help you.

You had all managed to calm James down – with the help of some Firewhiskey – but when he heard a key turn in the lock he looked panicked again. In walked Harry, along with Ron, Hermione and Draco.

“We’re here guys!” he called out and walked into the living room, “Draco, this is well, everyone,” he laughed, looking slightly overwhelmed by the amount of people.

“Hi everyone,” Malfoy nodded. He shook James’ hand and returned Lily’s warm hug. You and Remus greeted him, while Sirius nodded his head but said nothing.

“Sirius, he’s your cousin,” you hissed.

“Second cousin,” he corrected you.

Ron picked up a parcel that he’d dropped off earlier in the week and handed it to Draco, “mum made this for you,” the tips of his ears turned red as Draco removed the tissue paper.

Molly had knitted him a green jumper that had the letter ‘D’ emblazoned on the front, with a snake curled up at its base. Draco smiled at Ron, “thanks Wea-,” he cut himself off, “Ron,” he corrected himself.

You figured that would take some getting used to. When Malfoy pulled the jumper over his head, Harry grinned and adjusted the collar. Draco let him, it looked very natural, like this had all happened before. James who had been getting increasingly antsy looked as though he’d reached his limit and pulled Ron and Hermione into the kitchen. Draco and Harry didn’t notice as they’d engaged Remus in conversation. You and Lily hovered around the door to listen in.

“Guys, are Harry and Malfoy,” he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“Shagging?”

“Dating?”

Ron and Hermione spoke at the same time, “either,” James stuttered, looking more panicked at their words.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other before turning to look back at James, “we don’t know,” Hermione said.

James looked slightly relieved that even Harry’s best friends didn’t know what was going on between Harry and Draco.

As dinner progressed, it was clear that Draco had matured a lot in the past year, you were glad he wasn’t a carbon copy of his father. He’d seemed to win everyone over, even Sirius, well Sirius was finally speaking to him in full sentences and looked him in the eye as he did so.

“Can you pass the salt please?” Draco nudged Harry who passed the salt over, “cheers, Potter,” it wasn’t said in a mocking way, his voice was full of affection as he said it.

James looked between Draco and his son, the panic on his face had slowly dissipated over the course of the dinner. You had to admit that they looked good together. While James was getting dessert together, you all pretended not to notice as Harry followed his father into the kitchen.

You perched on the edge of Sirius’ knee and kissed his cheek, laughing as he pulled you into his chest. James and Harry were in the kitchen for a little while, talking in hushed tones and you wished there was a way to block them out completely so they could have their privacy. You did catch them share a tight hug. Harry soon walked out of the kitchen with a grin on his face. James followed shortly carrying the treacle tart, his eyes were suspiciously wet but full of pride.

[sleepyangelkami]

TRUTH OR DARE e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 8.7K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - it started out innocently enough. a sinless sleepover shared between two best friends, one much more experienced than the other. but nothing would have prepared the innocent girl for the events led from a simple game of truth or dare, started by ellie williams who knew exactly what she was doing.

 ☆ WARNINGS - smut, oral + fingering (r. receiving), strap sucking (e. recieving), strap fucking, use of 'my dick' and 'my cock' when referring to ellie's strap, tinsey bit of humping, dom!ellie, sub!reader, innocence kink, size kink, spanking, slight age gap (17 - 19), daddy kink (oops), ellie's lowk the town whore, use of pet names, kinda overstimulation, dumbification, inexperienced reader, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

ellie williams was known in jackson, and not only by the way everyone may think. sure, the girl certainly had been known for the amount of work she put into the town by all of it's residents and of course she was known as the cheery girl, joel millers daughter, the same girl that wouldn't even hesitate to help someone unload bags if she spotted them struggling. ellie williams was known as one of the 'glues' of the town, keeping it put together. but how she was known by the teenage girls of jackson was a very different story.

ellie was fourteen when she came to jackson, she had matured much since then and everyone could see that, especially the girls.

It was no secret that ellie williams got around, nor was it a secret that she had slept with more than half of the girls in jackson, some even straight. but what she wasn't known for, was relationships. she was a hit and dip kind of girl, the one that never stayed the night, never attached herself to anyone, she wasn't the kind of girl to be a girlfriend, and believe me when i say... she rejected too many girls to so much as begin to count.

then there was always you.

you were another one of the glues of jackson, respectful and polite, hardworking but in many different ways than ellie was. you were sweet and kind yet awfully shy, hiding into yourself for the most part. sure, you got on well with the elderlies but when it came to actually having a conversation with a teenager, you ran before you could see the light of day. even the thought of it seemed merely impossible. but that wasn't to say that you couldn't handle everyone. you often went on patrols with dina and jesse, you always helped maria and her husband, along with joel miller too. and you never hesitated to help out with the younger kids, feeling much sympathy for them seeing as they had to grow up in the apocalypse, alike you, and you knew it wasn't too peachy yourself.

then there was ellie. oh, how you loved the girl.

when she first got to jackson, you were beyond admiration, fawning over her every move. when you met her it wasn't romantic, no definitely not, but she was older than you were, so fearless of anything in her path, so good at keeping conversation with everyone she met. she was so... cool.

she had girls practically crawling all over her, she was loved, adored, you weren't jealous of the attention in the slightest. you simply admired it, the way she didn't have to move and it seemed that every girl was fawning over her. she had been with at least half of the teenagers in jackson, and it was no help that most of the girls were... well gay.

you had never really thought about it for you never thought about being in a relationship but when ellie constantly spoke about being lesbian, about all the girls she had been with and i mean.. just look at her! you knew then and there that you too had the very same liking towards girls, after all, you had never really seen yourself getting with a boy anyway, not that you had thought about it.

when ellie noticed your admiration, she instantly took you under her wing, she became the best friend you had always longed for, she and you did everything together, spending all your time with one another down to the very last minute when you finally went to sleep. more often than not, you were sleeping at your house with her. your parents always away on guard duty or even on night patrol and you obviously had the bigger house of you two, so naturally, that was where the sleepovers occured.

just like now as you dressed in your shortest shorts in your wardrobe, pretty and pink, silky and slightly flowly though rather tight against your skin as well as your small tank top, pretty and white, little flowers dotted across the fabric. there was nothing worse than those warm nights in jackson, when everyone was asleep and you were left to deal with the heat alone, no one to complain to.

luckily, you were always attached to ellie's hip.

"I'm so warm!" she groaned in front of the fan, her chin on the palm of her hand in which had been propped up on your bed by her elbow, eyes shutting closed, she couldn't stick the heat any more than you could.

"same." you mumbled, lying on your back with one arm over your eyes, the free hand fanning your face, seeing as the girl had practically hogged the fan, snatching it right from you. the short and skimpy clothes did absolutely nothing to sooth the terrible heat sticking to your skin. you were just thankful that the windows were wide open and the fan was spreading cold air across your room for there was nothing worse than legs sticking together with the heat, or sweating in your bed.

ellie sighed, moving from the fan as she propped herself up next to you, she on her stomach, you on your back, however you couldn't so much as notice her with your arm strewn across your eyes. she was in a black wife beater tank top (one of which, when she had told you the name of, you stared at her with your mouth agape stating that it couldn't be true because who on earth would name a t-shirt that) along with grey sweatpants that looked too hot for this weather. you always mocked her for this, stating that she dressed like a twelve year old boy. "let's play a game to distract ourselves from the heat." she suggested and yet... you knew that playful tone from anywhere.

lifting your elbow, you crained your head up just enough to give her a questioning look. "what kind of game?" voice light and unbothered as you slowly put your arm down, looking up at her while she, face still in her arm, looked down at you.

she grinned―no, she smirked down at your pretty face, hand moving away so she could sit up. "okay." already beginning the game. "truth or dare." your groan and you pushing an arm back around your eyes had her pushing your arm back and rolling her eyes at you. "cut the dramatics." she warned in this tone that had your stomach feeling rather strange, not that you'd ever tell her that. "c'mon, don't you trust me?"

that smirk that played on her lips would be the absolute death of you. you sat up, hair falling down over your chest to hide the shape of your nipples through your shirt... you weren't wearing a bra. you didn't think anything of it, it was just ellie, your best friend, she wouldn't care. "truth." but oh, how it drove her crazy.

"boring." she rolled her eyes, settling on the bed as she criss-crossed her legs, elbows falling on each knee. a smile suddenly spread across her face as she picked the perfect question from her mind. "what's your biggest turn on?" oh, she was jumping straight to the point? you couldn't deny the way your eyes blew wide and instantly, heat spread across your cheeks at her question.

instantly, you turned your face away, hands pushing up in a 'no' motion. "mm-mm, no, can't do this with you ellie-" though it wasn't the first time you spoke about sex. of course, ellie would always tell you every detail of her latest conquests and while you should have been disgusted, you were more intrigued, after all, ellie was your personal sex ed guide. ellie couldn't deny it either, that sick obsession with the way your eyes squinted at her, confused, innocent, oh how she would melt on the spot.

yes you can, her hands grasping at your own, stopping them from moving away. "yes you can!" the hands on your own caused you to go impossibly more red, eyes almost begging, but for what? you were still unsure.

you looked at her, eyes falling as you stared straight forward at her. "i don't even know what my biggest turn on is." but that only had the girl scoffing at you.

it was as if she could read you better than you could yourself. "yes you do!" she almost groaned out, throwing her head back, as if you were annoying her, as if you ever could.

"i don't- i guess, uhm..." you bit down on your bottom lip, thinking back to everything she had ever told you about sex, what was your biggest turn on? it was funny, you don't think you have ever thought about it until that very moment when your hands began to brush against your own skin of your arms. "probably... praise?" you mumbled, barely audible. yes, that seemed like you knew what you were talking about for ellie and jesse had explained it in great detail in front of you before, not directly to you, but you heard anyway, while you and dina were busy looking at a photo album. all you knew was that when those certain words were uttered from ellie's lips, you couldn't help but push your thighs together.

ellie smiled, a smile that had her tongue pushing between her teeth. "yeah?" almost teasing you with that look in her eye, but you knew she wasn't judging either, there was a fine line between teasing and judging, ellie would never cross past the mockery.

"yes, now shut up!" you giggled excitedly, tossing the pillow into her face. however, you remembered to take note of the fact that your parents were home tonight and you didn't wish to make too much noise, otherwise they may come in and the last thing you needed was them overhearing this conversation.

ellie caught the pillow, chuckling as she set it aside, grinning at the funny look on your face. what you thought was awkward, what she thought was downright adorable. "your turn." she nodded at you.

you sat up straighter, moving your hands to stretch out your arms. "truth or dare, els?" the position you were in was anything but comfortable, straining your back.

"fuck it." she spoke, pushing her back up against your many pillows on the bed, you were envious of her. "i'll go with truth too."

now it was your turn to roll your eyes, seeing as she had called you boring for doing the exact thing she was doing now. "hmm, lemme see." you placed a finger on your chin, jokingly, though you were, in fact, in deep thought. you wondered what you'd ask her, there were many questions you wished to ask her before, all about the same topic she just loved to bring up, sex, but you weren't as outgoing nor as confident as she was so when you asked, you were sure it sounded too awkward, not as 'seductive' as she. "what does shower sex feel like?" you suddenly questioned, like an inquisitive student to her teacher.

ellie laughed in your face. "what?"

"what?" you threw your hands up in defence, though you couldn't deny the heat that spread across your cheeks and the embarrassment through your body. "i wanna know and you're like... the sex god?" and now you were really embarrassed.

ellie barked out laughter, throwing her head back again as her hand came down on her stomach, after all, you had called her a sex god, despite the way you meant it. "fuck, i can't!" turning over on her stomach, burying her face into your many plush pillows.

your cheeks were stained crimson. "that's not what i meant!" you protested, simply meaning that she knew so much, not that she was that good. you kicked her leg and just as you were about to toss a pillow at her, you realised you had no more. "just answer the question and save me my pride." hiding your face away in your hands.

"your pride is swallowed, angel." sitting up straight with a simple grin on her face, however, you didn't remove your hands from your own. "it feels good." you peeked through your fingers, she saw that and grinned. she slowly lowered her hand, your eyes watched as her her fingers came down to trace the skin of your leg, you ignored the goosebumps it left, she didn't. "usually starts off with... little massages, gets you all relaxed, you know?" she was practically whispering, suddenly, her body seemed so much closer. "and when you're all relaxed like that, soaking in hot water, the smell of soaps... everything's just so much better." her eyes moved up to your own, your hands had fallen by your side, you gulped gently, a smirk returned on her lips. "truth or dare, angel?"

your body almost let out a whimper, instead, your lips pressed into a thin line. there was a feeling in your throat, though, one that screamed at you to make a noise. but you knew you couldn't, of course you couldn't. "dare." you mumbled, exciting and yet surprising yourself.

you must have surprised ellie too, judging by her face, you definitely did. "oh... someone's confident." shock washing from her face almost instantly, she was well prepared, you weren't. "hmm... okay, I dare you to call me the nickname of my choosing for the rest of the game." okay, you thought, lips turning upwards as you nodded, that wouldn't be hard at all. "and if you mess up... i get to spank you." shrugging as she moved her body backwards, back against the pillows once again.

your eyes blew wide and your mouth fell agape, and yet still, ellie seemed completely unphased. "that's completely absurd el-" she watched you, her mouth opening, waiting for you to mess up. you glared at her. "what's the damn nickname." you grumbled, eyes cast down, though you couldn't deny the sudden excitement rumbling in your stomach, yet also nervousness, itching at the back of your throat once more.

"drop the attitude, will you, bun?" leaning forward again. she knew she could turn the situation around for the worst and she would, why wouldn't she? it was ellie williams for god sake. "the nicknames' daddy." and that was your final straw, eyes almost popping out of your skull. "something wrong? can't handle a simple dare?"

"no." you deadpanned, eyes squinting at her. "i can handle it just fine... daddy." the word seemed foreign, weird, you internally cringed and while ellie smirked, she didn't say another word, she'd wait to embarrass you about it later. "your turn, truth or dare?"

with sudden confidence, one of which it seemed she always had, she answered the question rather swiftly. "dare." without so much as hesitating.

"i dare you to...." looking around the room, you had to get her back but in what way? your eyes suddenly fell on your wardrobe and a grin spread across your face. "show me your polaroids." sure, it was your room but in a box at the bottom of your wardrobe, behind all your clothes and hidden away was all ellie's 'things'. at first, when the girl had practically begged you to keep all of her 'sex things' in your wardrobe, you instantly shut her down, shaking your head and stating that you wouldn't have her strap or other slutty belongings hidden away in your room. however, when she told you the story of joel threatening to tear her room apart to find what he was looking for, you couldn't exactly say no. your parents never entered your room without consent, let alone searched it. it was a place ellie knew her stuff would be safe, and you were her best and friend and oh how you admired her, how could you say no?

ellie stared at you momentarily. "fine." she moved her hands underneath her and made her way over to the wardrobe, opening it and fishing her hands in behind your clothing. you sat on the bed, watching as she opened the box, grasping the polaroid pictures and pushing the box back behind your clothes again, covering it altogether. "now." tossing them onto the bed, right next to you. "do with them, what you please."

you ignored her poor use of grammar and picked up the one closest to your leg while grimacing. you didn't want to look at photos of ellie and her sex buddies but you wanted her to care, to suddenly get nervous and anxious, to twitch and blush the way you do. but she never did, an amused look on her face as she watched yours. you flipped over the polaroid, eyes turning wide. there sat a picture between your finger tips, something strapped into ellie and... inside someone else. you couldn't see the strap really for it was plunged too deep inside some blonde girl, one of which ellie was tugging the hair of. "ew." the look on your face doing nothing to hide the pure distaste you had or the photograph. "who even is that?"

you're question caused the girl to turn around, settling herself right next to you. your knees that were propped up slowly slipped and she took a hold of the polaroid only she didn't take it from your hands, instead she placed hers on top of yours to turn it her way. "no idea." she shrugged and you placed the picture back on the bed.

"what do you mean?" you all but stretched out your sentence. "you just look at someone and say 'you're hot, I wanna have sex with you' and that's... it?" it baffled you, how you could just have sex with a nobody, someone you had no connection to at all, a face you couldn't even remember.

ellie shrugged her shoulders once more. "pretty much." she shrugged her shoulders. you gave the polaroids a look of slight disgust as she picked them up off the bed, rolling her eyes. huffing, she found her way back to the box, placing them back inside before seating herself back onto the bed. "truth of dare."

"truth." deciding that the last dare was much too far, you needed to get it back to the normal tension, not this one for it was much too hot, you couldn't handle it. then again, ellie was anything but casual, she was sure to make this hard for you.

she looked as though she had already planned this out, which she had, a thousand times in her head. "who's the first person you fantasised about?" eyes going wide for a moment as she grinned at you. yes, she surely was not going to make it easy.

you. the simple answer, to the simple question however none of this was truly simple, so you answered. "katy perry, obviously." rolling your eyes as if she had known this already, which she had, she just didn't know that it was a lie.

"oh, come on." she placed her hands on her knees to stabilize herself. "you saw her showing a little too much skin in one magazine and your frigid ass went ballistic." it was true, you had seen her in a magazine one day on patrol and you simply stared, a little starstruck.

"shut up, that's so not true." but oh how it was. you were a prude, at least that was what the teenage boys called you. you didn't engage in any 'activities' nor did you hear much about them unless it were from ellie, but seeing something? well it was graphic enough for your eyes to blow as wide as saucers. "truth or dare?"

"truth." ellie answered almost instantly, without missing a beat.

"stop copying me." you rolled your eyes at her. "uhhh..." rocking forward and backwards with your hands on your knees. "do you think anyone could ever think of... me that way?" tilting your head, sudden insecurities slapping you right in the face. you didn't wish to sound whiny, or insecure but it was ellie williams, she was your best friend and she knew you better than anyone and she had probably the most experience in the entire town, she'd know if you were capable.

"y/n l/n!" she almost shouted, a wide smile stretched across her face, she fawned shock. "are you asking me if i think you're hot."

"my god." you groaned, shoving your face right into a pillow because ellie williams truly never knew when to be serious, and you hated the way every time she laughed, your face felt hot and flush. the sound of a knock on the door caused you both to stop, heads instantly whipping towards the door. "come in!" you yelled out to your parents, you knew it was them for there was no one else home.

"hi, sweetheart." in came your mother, a smile on her wrinkled face, you made an effort to smile back. "hi, ellie." she was met with a wave before she turned back to her daughter. "me and your father are going out for night patrol now, alright? you and ellie might fancy watching a movie down in the living room now that you have the dvd player all to yourselves."

"okay, thank you, mom." you rose from your bed, giving her a short hug. you were touchy like that, especially with your parents, always making sure to give them hugs whenever you saw them, it was just the way you were. "love you, you and dad be safe, okay?"

"always are." she grinned, placing a chaste kiss on your head. "see you later." and just like that, the night turned around, maybe for the better, maybe for the worst, you weren't too sure. all you knew was that at one minute you were sitting in your bedroom, clenching your legs together and ignoring your scratchy throat with your parents downstairs and the next they were gone further beyond the walls while you and ellie sat on the couch, watching some shitty western movie she had borrowed from she and joel's house before, she never did give it back.

for the entire movie, you sat at one end of the couch, curled up with your head laying on the arm rest, knees almost against your chest while ellie sat at the other, legs spread wide and her elbow resting against the back of the couch, fingers toying with the bottom of her mullet like hair.

the rest of the night passed by smoothly. after the movie, you and ellie had agreed to go to bed seeing as you were both awfully tired. however, upon slipping into bed, the lights off and curtain drawn, you realised you weren't actually tired, no, for it was only mere fake tiredness from staring at all of those pixels on the screen.

you stared into the black abyss, ignoring the awfully silent room. you turned, uncomfortable so that now you weren't facing the wall but ellie's back. but you knew from the lack of snores filling the room that ellie too was not asleep for she usually snored rather loud. she sensed you turning around and undoubtedly did the same, eyes open. she gave you a grin. "hi." she whispered into the dark.

you couldn't help but give a toothy smile back. "hi." whispering back, though you weren't sure why you were whispering for it was just you two in the entire house. perhaps it was the dark making you feel as though you should be asleep, so you gently turned around, flicking on the small lampshade next to your bed before plopping back to your original space, huffing out a breath. your eyes fell on ellie's in which were tracing your entire body over. "what?" you giggled.

but she looked up at you with an almost baffled look. the light illuminated her skin and it seemed to make her impossibly more pretty despite the fact you could barely see her face through the darkness. her hand came to your face, two fingers pushing your hair behind your ear. "people think of you like that." she whispered, answering your truth question from much earlier. "i know they do." she knew she did. "truth your dare, baby?"

you ignored the way your stomach twisted in nerves and your cheeks felt as though they were on fire. "We're playing that game again?" almost groaning as if you didn't want this, as if your heart wasn't in your mouth, as if there wasn't something pooling in your underwear.

ellie's mouth turned upwards into a little smirk. "we never stopped." she spoke in an agonisingly teasing tone as she moved her face closer to your own. if she moved another inch or two, your noses would be touching. "so, truth or dare?"

you found your own hands fumbling with one another. "truth." answering, attempting to start it off easily, however, ellie wouldn't make it easy for you, you knew that.

her fingers moved to your arm, stroking up and down your exposed skin due to your white spaghetti strap top. "do you touch yourself a lot?" her voice a low mumble, you wondered how she could say it so casually, as if she wasn't effected by the spoken words, and that alone seemed as though it were impossible.

your cheeks flamed a hot crimson colour. you would have protested, stating that it were too inappropriate to speak of, but you didn't, why? you didn't know. but you didn't protest, you couldn't because you knew deep down that you had dreamed of this moment since you met her. "sometimes..." you muttered back, voice wavering. "not a lot." but on the nights you did, it was a feeling unlike you ever could have imagined.

"yeah?" you nodded your head dumbly. "how?"

and as badly as you wished to answer, as badly as you wanted her to know everything, you couldn't for your embarrassment prohibited you from it. "it's not your turn." you mumbled, embarrassment thick in your veins as the girls lips curled upwards once more. "truth or dare?"

you wanted her to pick dare, you wanted to choose something completely wild but you knew she wouldn't because for every question in this game, she's chosen the very same as you did. "truth." she responded swiftly.

"have... you ever thought of me like that?" had she ever fantasized about you, is what you wanted to know, what you needed to know. you needed to know if she felt the same, if she too spent her nights with dirty thoughts occupying her mind. dirty thoughts about you, like the ones you had about her.

"all the time." She mumbled and your heart dropped to your ass. "sometimes when i'm... with someone-" her hand still stroking up your arm. "i have to imagine it's you to finish- no, not sometimes." she corrected. "every single fucking time." and you didn't know how to breathe. "truth or dare?"

thankfully, ellie had moved it right on, so you could be free of those smothering thoughts, the ones that had your thighs clenching together right now. "dare." because if you choose truth, she'd simply ask you the very same thing she did beforehand. 'how' did you touch yourself, that was something you didn't know if you were ready to say or not.

ellie's lips curved upwards into a smug smirk. you had walked right into her trap. "show me how you touch yourself." and this was worse. way way worse.

"wha-" suddenly all your breath had left your lungs. "i can't just-"

but ellie was quick to cut you off. "a dare is a dare, angel." shrugging her shoulders as she sat up, you followed in suit. "unless you're too scared." she shrugged her shoulders and if there was one thing you hated more than this situation altogether it was backing down to ellie, her thinking that you were 'scared' even when you were.

you huffed out, staring at her with her big dopey smile spread across her face. "fine." you spoke, voice wobbling once more. "but you can't make fun of me."

"me?" ellie fawned shock. "I'd never." and you rolled your eyes at that one. "whenever you're ready, baby." you'd never be ready but there was a certain haze over the room, a certain gloss over your eyes that told you to do it, maybe it was your cunt talking, you didn't much care, simply huffing out a breath as you prepared yourself. nothing would prepare you for this moment, the moment you had fantasized about since you were twelve. you moved to grab a pillow, a pink, satin one to be exact. ellie couldn't stop her smirk, you have got to be kidding me, she thought, unable to contain her smug features. you truly had no idea what you were doing. you couldn't look at her, not when you lowered yourself down onto the pillow, still clad in your pink shorts that pushed out by your ass. "it's okay, honey, take your time." her soothing voice actually helped and you finally lowered yourself down onto the pillow which you had done a thousand times before... but now that there was someone watching, you couldn't contain your nervousness.

you let out a shaky breath as your hands fell down, grasping at the pillow to hold it in place. ellie watched your small form get comfortable before rutting your hips forward. at first, you were met with mere ruts, small pathetic breaths until finally, the sensation began to built up in your tummy. maybe it was because of the pillow or maybe it was because she was watching. you don't know what possessed you but it was almost as if you had forgotten she was in the room with you. you rolled your hips against the pillow again and again, this time with more force and much faster, no stops in between. a mewl fell from your lips as you pushed your ass out again, the friction from the pillow against your clit was... good but surely not enough.

luckily for you, ellie could see right through you. she knew you better than anyone and she knew just how to make you feel good. "poor baby." she cooed causing you to rut your hips again, pathetic whimper falling from your lips. "you've never came with this, have you?" you eventually slowed to a stop, the feeling of her hand on your thigh enough to cause the heat in your panties to pool further. you shook your head, holding back an embarrassed whimper. she moved up, lips against your ear. "need daddy to help you feel good?" you had forgotten all about the nickname from before but hearing it roll of her tongue, uttered from her lips, you found yourself audibly whining as you nodded your head swiftly. she placed a chaste kiss against your neck. "words, bun."

"need you to help me." your voice turned into a whine, one you had never heard from your own lips, in fact, you had never heard anybody so needy, you were almost embarrassed. almost. the haze over your eyes stopped you from feeling like that. "please." ellie had enough.

she was quick to flip you over, pushing the pillow from underneath you and out onto your bedroom floor. she wasn't hovering over you for a second before she had dipped her head down, roughly kissing your lips. this was the first kiss you had ever recieved and you found yourself never wanting something more. her hands were on your waist, yours around her neck as you pushed your head up to kiss against her lips just as roughly, needy, sloppily. she herself couldn't get enough. making out with you had been what she dreamed of since she had become friends with you and now she was here, she wasn't going to let you go easily.

ellie didn't know how to tell you something, so instead, she let you feel it. she grinded her core against yours allowing you to feel the strap already strapped to her beneath her sweatpants. you gasped at her, mouth detatching from her own. "when did you-" shocked as you felt it grind against your core, letting out a whimper that cut you off instantly.

she breathed heavily against your lips, a grin on her face. "when you went to the bathroom." she stated as if it were some little secret she had been dying to share with you. you couldn't contain your noises as she grinded against you again, this time slower, raking up your shorts as she did. "fuck, need to take these off you." she spoke, pulling at your pink shorts. "can i take them off you, angel?"

"please." you whined, watching as she nodded her head, moving her hands so she could grasp at the waistband, pulling it clean off you and simply leaving you with your white cotton panties on, a very much so obvious wet patch on them.

"fuck." she grunted, tossing the shorts somewhere on the ground, presumedly with the pillow. "all worked up already?" she moved her hand, finger gently tracing over the circle on your panties, your little wet patch that drove her absolutely insane, almost over the edge.

you weren't stupid, you knew what happened next and you simply couldn't wait. "please." you begged, whimpering into thin air as you bucked your hips forward. "please just t-touch me." and ellie waited, you knew what she was waiting for so you didn't keep her waiting long, after all, you didn't much like to wait either. "please, daddy." words almost a whispered whine.

"good girl." she praised, grasping at your panties so she could pull them down your legs. you shifted, squirming as your core met the cold air of the bedroom. ellie shoved the panties into her sweatpants pocket, you didn't bother say a word, too busy waiting in anticipation for what she would do next. ellie's eyes met your core, a small grunt leaving her mouth as she dipped her fingers down. her head turned up, watching your face contort at the feeling of her fingers pressing against your lips, one finger sliding through to collect the slick. she turned her head back down, pulling her fingers away and spreading them, looking at your slick that coated it, she found herself laughing. "fuck, you're so wet, aren't you?" you didn't wish to respond, hands falling on your face to cover your blushed cheeks. "nuh-uh, none of that." pushing her clean hand up to pull your own away, you stared at her with crimson cheeks. "use your words." she whispered against your ear, placing a kiss right beneath the lobe. "use your words or i'll stop."

you whined with your lips shut at that. "a-all for you." you mumbled out embarrassingly but you never took your eyes off of her.

she hummed, a smirk on her lips. "I'm sure." she pushed her fingers back down again, pointer finger rubbing tight circles around your clit, she watched as you moaned out, flushed cheek against her shoulder as she practically hovered over your side. she did it again and again, watching your face change and listening to your pathetic little mewls falling from your lips. the sight was straight up pornographic. so, of course, the girl just had to push you even further. she moved her middle finger, lining it up with your core and plunged a finger in.

"oh my god!" you held onto her biscep, listening to her laugh as she pumped the finger in and out of you, you had never done anything like this before. you should have been scared, but you were too busy thinking about the feeling building up in your stomach, the one that was familiar yet oh so foreign. you had felt good before but this... this was very different.

"yeah? you like that, hm?" almost teasing tone as she pushed another finger in causing you to squeal loudly. the feeling of her two slender yet very long fingers pumping in and out of you caused many different sounds to fall from your lips, ellie wondered how many she'd be able to get out of you. she picked up her pace, sliding them in and out with ease as they were coated in your thick juices. she thanked god you were so wet, it made it so much easier to play with your pussy. though, she did hope god was nowhere near that bedroom in that given moment. "feels good, angel?"

you whined, nodding your head. "s-so good." you clutched at her shirt, hoping for something to bring you back down to earth, but it wouldn't work. on the contrary, it only fuelled her to go faster. "i think, i'm gonna-"

you had never orgasmed before, but this was the best you had ever felt. surely, this was how it felt to being close. and ellie could tell you were too for your core clenched around her fingers, practically swallowing them whole. "i know, angel, it's okay." she moved her thumb up, rubbing circles against your clit as she continued to move her fingers in and out of your tight hole, she wondered how on earth her strap was supposed to fit inside there. "let go f'me, bunny." and you did. there were a string of moans leaving your mouth, including... her name. she smirked up at you, knowing you hadn't the slightest clue of the mistake you made by moaning out her name. however, she was sure to have fun with it nonetheless.

she waited until you came down from your high, until your moans had just turned to harsh breaths, quick pants as you laid on your back, blinking heavily. never in your life had you ever felt so good, your core almost felt strange without her fingers inside of it. you had gotten a taste, you needed so so much more, you needed everything.

you felt ellie bend her head down, pressing chaste kisses against your neck as you breathed out another pant, eyes chasing hers. she returned her face towards yours, a knowing smirk plastered on it, your brows furrowed. "think you called me by the wrong name, honey." your jaw went slack at the realisation. "games not over yet." at the same time as fear entered your body, excitement ran through it.

ellie was quick to move, pushing you instantly so that you were draped across her lap, she manhandled you, as if you were a toy, so easy to pick up and toss around. and in her eyes, you truly were. after all, she had picked you up and thrown you across her lap as if you were, in fact, a doll. "wait." you whined out, suddenly scared. you knew that you had agreed to the dare but the thought of her hand coming in contact with your ass, the thought of her hurting you, it was rather scary. " 'm sorry daddy." you cried out pathetically, as if it would save you now.

"i know you are, bunny." her hand came down on your bare ass gently, rubbing along your skin as if you were a china doll made of glass, she grinned as you practically held onto her leg. you almost thought that she was going to let you off, but you knew better. "that's why daddys gonna be really nice to you tonight. i'll only give you five, 'kay?" you nodded your head despite your wobbling lip, this earned a small swat to your bottom. "words, angel."

"okay, daddy." mumbling out adorably as you held onto ellie as much as you could, scared that if you let go she'd disappear. your eyes shut close together at the feeling of her hand lifting from your ass. you squinted them close, ready for heavy impact and well.. pain. but as her hand came down, slapping your skin harshly, you didn't feel all too much in pain. it was a sort of elevating, almost gratifying feeling. you wondered, why would something that was suppose to cause pain, actually cause pleasure? or, was that the whole point in the first place? your thoughts of rambling were cut off by another slap. you flinched, despite the feeling of pleasure, it still stung and you could only imagine how red your ass would be now. you flinched in her lap, causing her large hand to have to hold you in place so you didn't move. you whined out as the third hit came down on your pretty skin. ellie smirked to herself, her plan working out gracefully.

she rubbed your skin once more, placing a chaste kiss on the bottom of your back before returning. "you're doin' so good for daddy, baby, you'll get a reward later, m'kay?" but this time, she didn't offer you a chance to respond, didn't even give you time to do so for she was spanking you once more. you wondered if this was her plan all along, why she had ever bothered to play truth or dare in the first place. but despite ellie's wild imagination about you, and about this very moment, you across her lap and her own hand spanking you, she didn't actually intend for it to go this far, however, she loved it more than she could ever explain. "one more, bun." and that was it, one more sharp stinging slap as you flinched once more, teary eyed and pouty lips as the girl allowed you to crawl into her lap.

ellie's lips were far from a pout herself, on the contrary, there was a pretty smile playing on it. she pushed your hair behind your ear. "was so good for daddy, weren't you baby?" you nodded your head as you pushed it into the crook of her neck. she began to rock her hips slightly, knowing that her strap was bumping against your already soaked and sensitive pussy. "yeah, my good girl." rubbing your sides up and down. "what do you say i give you that reward now, hm?" you sat in her lap, nodding your head briskly.

it didn't take long to get to where you were. sitting on your knees completely naked in front of ellie who too was now completely naked all except for the strap that was strapped to her lower half, dangling in front of you as your mouth completely covered it. it was neon pink, pretty and... very long. your eyes were shut as your tongue felt around the silicone toy, whimpering as it hit the back of your throat.

ellie had earlier stated that she was going to fuck you with it and of course with big eyes and a watering mouth, you indefinitely agreed to it but when she told you that you'd need to prepare first, you had no idea what she was talking about. you were scared, nervous, completely gone timid, worried you'd mess up in some way. nonetheless, when you finally had her strap in your mouth, you couldn't get enough.

ellie was sitting on the bed, legs spread apart as if she were man spreading while you knelt on the ground, hands holding onto her thighs after she had guided the toy in between your lips. you moaned into it as she pushed your head down further. her hand had somehow would up at the back of your head, fingers interlacing your locks of hair.

she pushed your head down on the strap, bobbing it so that the strap moved, bumping against her own clit. "fuck, just like that." her voice tight, her throat closing up. but she could feel it, the stimulation becoming oh so much, so she forced your head up, allowing you to stop. you watched her closely, moving your head away so that a string of spit connected your lips with her strap. "fuck, baby, y'look so pretty like this." she mumbled, her thumb swiping across your glossy lips, she groaned, she couldn't get enough. "c'mere." patting the bed as she too readied herself.

" 'kay." you mumbled, standing up on your wobbly legs. you felt them become like jelly beneath you, whether it was from your first orgasm, whether it was due to the spanking you had recieved from earlier or it was simply because you had been on your knees for rather long, or perhaps it was a combination of them all. you sat yourself on the bed, instantly becoming attacked by ellie's kisses.

her hand came up to sooth your cheek, fingers softly padding against your lithe skin. she sloppily kissed you, hot, open mouthed and messy kisses. you moaned into it, finding it hard to kiss back, the heat in your core suddenly returning as you felt your own hand sitting between your legs, you found yourself almost grinding on it. you couldn't take it, though, not when you felt so high and yet recieved no friction in where you needed it the most.

ellie noticed this, however, she never scolded you, instead she simply pushed your shoulders back gently. the kiss was detatched as you found your body falling limp against the mattress beneath you. however, the girl instantly towered over your frame, lips pushing down to meet your own. there was a sense of need, one of desperation as you kissed her back, finding your lips completely chasing her own.

she made a move to stand her hands on either side of your head, trapping you while she also lined herself up, making it easy to slip in, but she didn't. she moved one hand down, not breaking the kiss as she slightly pumped the silicone dick, lining it up with your entrance but only allowing the tip to tease at your hole. you whined out harshly, grasping at her shoulders and looking up at her with big doey eyes.

"what's wrong baby?" she asked in such a condescending voice, knowing how desperately you needed her. but how dumb you felt now, you couldn't even speak, words becoming a complete mush inside your brain. "c'mon, can't give you what you want if you don't tell me what it is, bunny." fingers stroking at your inner thigh.

you simply couldn't help it anymore, despite as dumb as you felt. "please, daddy, please— need it so bad, please, just want you in me please, please!" you were a babbling, waffling mess as you tried anything you could, even bucking your own hips in hopes of slipping her strap in further.

her lips came down to kiss against your neck, cutting off your babbles with a whimper. "as you wish, love." and slowly, she entered. you moaned out, wincing slightly as your hands clawed at her bare back, not so much as covered in a bra by now. you couldn't help the way you clenched around it, sensitive area already so stimulated. you felt dumb, completely and utterly fucked out by just her fingers. "fuck." she grunted, her head bent down low to meet the crook of your neck, hovering over you as her strap made it's way inside. "fuck, that hurt?" but you didn't respond, simply shaking your head with an 'mm-mm' because, truly, it was all you could muster.

however, it did hurt, just a slight stinging feeling but it soon went away. ellie could tell this, despite your answer because ellie knew you better than you knew yourself and she certainly knew your body. so, she didn't move for a brief moment, allowing you to collect yourself and breathe a breath out. "c-can you move?" you asked feebly, you knew she was awaiting your command, but you found it so incredibly hard to ask, you knew you shouldn't feel so embarrassed. after all, it was ellie, your best friend, the girl you had been so utterly in love with since you laid eyes upon her. there was no one you'd rather be doing this with.

" 'course i can, baby." pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek before she began to move.

it began slow, the way her hips slowly pulled out, not the full way, of course, then slowly pushing back in. the pace began to pick up after that and her thrust was a little more powerful. her eyes strained down on where you met, she couldn't help the groans that left her lips at your pitiful whimpers, the ones in which it awfully hard to stop herself from letting go completely.

but soon after she found you both comfortable. she did, in fact, let go.

she was soon enough slamming her hips against your own. it didn't take long, for her self control to be thrown right out of the window. she didn't stop her swift pace at anything. the room had a lingering smell of sex, there were beads of sweat on both your foreheads. "fuck, yeah, taking my dick so well." she grunted out, shoving her strap into your pussy further, allowing it to reach your g spot as you moaned out loudly.

your legs had soon found themselves wrapped around her waist, her hand on the bottom of your lower back as you found your own arms holding her shoulders close. she could feel your tits against her own, pushing up against her as she fucked you with everything she could, free had on your thigh, prodding and squishing at the loose fat while her strap pumped into your tight hole. you were a babbling mess, moaning and mewling, fast whimpers falling from your lips and all rather loud. but how could you fight it? when her 'dick' felt so good inside of you, when she pumped it so hard yet so delicately. you felt as though you were on fire, you were sure, there was no better feeling than this. you felt so good that you couldn't even form coherent sentences.

with your whines and mewls she only picked up her pace, strap bumping against her clit as she fucked you hard, practically fucking you right into the mattress. "you like my cock?" she panted out, heavy and quick. she took your mewl and went with it, a big smirk plastered onto her face. "fuck, yeah you like daddy's cock." and you couldn't even deny it, for it was very true.

there was a feeling building up in your stomach, one of which had you screaming. you knew exactly what it was, for you had felt it the same way you did beforehand, the very same feeling you felt when her fingers were buried into your tight hole. and ellie too, could feel her own stomach building up with tension. she glanced down, to where her strap disappeared inside your tiny hole, a creamy ring sitting at the base of where you connected. down to every girl she had ever fucked, this was undoubtedly the best. she had never felt so euphoric in her entire life.

your high pitched whine, attempt to babble out words, it alerted ellie just what who was coming. "i know, i know." shushing you like a baby as he held onto you as tight as she could, her knuckles turning a white colour instead of her naturally olive skin. she too let out more grunts than she could afford, barely able to keep her noises contained as she rammed her hips against yours. "come f'me, angel, come on daddy's cock." and that was it, once again you were falling apart like mush in her hands.

the sight of you, turning to putty in her very own arms, she couldn't help herself, she too felt herself letting go. she turned her hips into sloppy slaps against your body, lips chasing yours as she attempted to kiss you hard yet messily, you could barely kiss back, however you did your very best, wanting nothing more than to please ellie.

finally, she slipped her silicone strap outside of you, turning to lay on her side as she still held you in her arms. your own hands came up to grasp her strong bicep, tired and droopy eyes not bothering to so much as look up at her. you couldn't move, too dumb, too fucked out, you couldn't so much as utter a word. at that, ellie grinned a wide grin, knowing only two orgasms had you so fucked out and overstimulated, she felt pride booming in her chest for after all, she did that. "truth or dare, baby?" she joked causing you to roll your eyes.

with all the energy you could, you shoved her chest a little. "shut up." you mumbled before sticking your head right between her arms and her chest, allowing yourself to burrow.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

does it not bother you that your position on trans people is the one consistently held and demonstrated by fascists? does it turn your stomach when nazis come to rallies for causes you believe in? i only hope you feel some remorse for being such a vile person

Does it bother you that Ben Shapiro supports gay marriage? Are you going to stand against gay marriage because a conservative man supports it? No? Do you think that makes you vile?

How about this:

You have two people who support abortion. One person supports abortion because they hate children, think that the world should end, and people should stop reproducing.

The second person supports abortion because they think women should have full control over their own bodies.

These people both support abortion but are they really the exact same? Can you look me in the eye and say that they really support the same exact thing?

The things is: I don't believe what fascists do. I have no problem with men who are feminine. I have no problem with women who are masculine. I don't want a world where every man is Kratos and every woman is Jessica rabbit. Fascists and nazi's don't care that someone is trans. Do you think they'd be happy with a man who wears women's clothing? Do you think they love effeminate gay men? You think they'd love seeing hairy butch dykes everywhere? Do you think their issue is REALLY with trans people in general? Or is it people not living up to their assigned, religion based, gender roles?

I have no problem with men who wear make up or nail polish or who love other men. I have no issue with butch lesbians who talk loudly about wanting to eat pussy. It genuinely makes me very happy to see gnc gay people out and about, regardless of it they're gay men or lesbians. It's instant vibes every single time.

How about another question for you, anon. Does it not bother you that teenage girls are being told that teenage males should be allowed access to their dressing rooms just because they say they "feel" like a girl? Does the discomfort and fear of those girls not churn your stomach? Do you have zero sympathy? Do the feelings of girls and women take a backseat to the feelings of men? Does it bother you that gay people are being fed homophobic rhetoric in a progressive package? Does it bother you that gnc kids are being told that they're doing boy/girlhood wrong and they should transition because no boy/girl would dare act how they do? Does it bother you that males are openly talking about wanting to fuck lesbians and how lesbians make their dick hard? Does it bother you that gay men are being told they're missing out on not eating pussy? Does it bother you that gay people are being called bad people for not liking the opposite sex?

Because it bothers me. If that reads as me having an issue with trans people then I think that says more about your ideology than mine.

[anniebass]

baby don't be mad

1.3k word actverse ficlet under the jump rating: M tags: dialogue-heavy, beginning of the relationship, the boys are arguinggg, old man eddie's being a clueless slut, and also a dweeb, and steve's being... a person that rly needs therapy lol

Rapid catchups, they name it, though it doesn’t really need a name, it’s basically just talking. Early on Eddie realizes he doesn’t know all that much about his sexy old-but-new long distance serious boyfriend, that he possesses a fuckton of outdated information, that, duh, people change, especially in the long-ass time they spent apart. That the habits and opinions of a twenty-year-old shithead don’t necessarily last until someone’s forties.

That evening, they do the rapid catchups, starting off easy, prompted by the takeout dinner they have at Steve’s: best Asian food, go, at which without a second thought Steve says Chinese, while Eddie goes with Japanese, love me some sushi, yum. Later, when they’re full of kung pao and mapo tofu, lazily digesting on the couch, half-watching an old movie where Sharon Stone saunters across the screen and smolders at bad men, Steve says: you have to sleep with a woman, any woman in the world, dead or alive, go.

Eddie groans and slides down the couch, throws his hands up: dude, I don’t know! Uh, like maybe— Cleopatra? Or maybe one of those amazonian greek warriors with one boobie?

So, no one you actually know the face of? he says, with a little smirk.

Man, I don’t— I mean, there are some beautiful women walking this earth, like stunning stunning women I can’t get enough of, but that don’t mean I want to fuck them! My willy shrinks at the thought, he explains meekly, and shrugs, clicking his tongue: I dunno, maybe Eartha Kitt? She seems very fun.

Good choice, mutters Steve, and to Eddie’s your turn he tilts his head, scratches his nose: I don’t know if that question really applies to me. But if I had to have a sex list, it would be… Linda Evangelista? Or Sharon, she’s hot. Or— yeah, Monica Belucci, Jesus. Her, definitely. If not her then Cleopatra, that’s actually a great answer, she must have been good for all that shit to go down around her, he says with a smile, and Eddie sighs dreamily, oh, I’d love to watch. From the closet, imagine myself in her place. In a little egyptian wig, he adds, to which Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.

Alright, my turn. Best casual sex you’ve ever had, go, says Eddie, and Steve hums at that, leans back on the couch, rubbing his chin, mumbling under his breath, until he sighs and says: I actually didn’t have that much of it beyond my teens, and what I had back then was very… teenaged, y’know. And in that short gap between my first and second wife I slept with just three people, two dudes and one woman, and neither of those was mind-blowing. The guys were kinda disappointing, I thought after so many years of straight sex I’d be blown away, but it was just… okay. Actually—, he adds, shaking his head: it sucked. I was drunk, they were drunk, I don’t remember much of it. Or don’t want to. I remember stinky balls. So, I dunno—, he says, and sighs, and glances at him: am I a big loser if I say the best one was when we reconnected? Could say it was still casual back then, right? When we fucked in the church, or by the pool, or—, yeah, there was a lot of it, on that trip.

It really was magical, agrees Eddie, smiling at him.

So, uh, your turn, says Steve. Best you've ever had, go.

Oh, man, mutters Eddie. I know my answer to that. Japan, in the mid-nineties. We were on tour and stayed for a few nights in Tokyo, and I got to explore the city, research shit with the help of a very discreet translator, and finally, on our last night there, I ended up in a gay bar. Very hush-hush, a basement place hidden away in some grimy back alley, he says, lowering his voice into sultry tones of gossip. Met a guy there, this… slightly chubby middle-aged businessman type, suit and tie and briefcase, wedding ring on his finger, very regular looking guy, and we drank sake through the night, sang some karaoke, and ended up in some seedy by-the-hour love hotel. He didn’t know who I was, didn’t speak a lick of English, I was obviously drunk, but I still remember that night like it was yesterday. God, just— the way that guy fucked me, the way he seemed to know every inch of my body without having seen it before, the way he just knew what I wanted without any language, it was insane. We did it a few times that one night, practically without stopping, and never saw each other again. I actually jerk off to that memory to this day.

To this, Steve lets out a small hm, purses his lips and leans back, crossing his arms, and Eddie clicks his tongue, leaning closer, touching his shoulder: aw, don’t be jealous. That was casual, but out of all people, of course you are my number one, no contest. I just— remember that one time in Japan, because it worked so well without language, and that’s always kinda hot. Language of love, all that cheesy stuff. Up to that point and following it, it'd mostly happen with some hot Brazilians.

Okay, he says.

Eddie sighs, watching his face: Steve, you know that’s what my life was like back then, this neverending barrage of hookups. And most of those weren’t even that good, like, you talk of stinky balls? I met dozens, slobbered over them anyway like they were fucking Ferrero Rocher!, he says to a small groan in return, then sighs, speaks softer: being with you is a completely different quality from that, even from my previous relationships. It’s way different. With Marcell, we both slept around, there wasn’t much that we had in common beyond, like, incredible attraction at the beginning, and the fact that we work in the same industry, could endlessly talk about that. And with Zu, we— we really loved each other, but we weren’t a good fit. It was this weird thing where she needed someone more masc, but also I needed someone more masc, he says with an amused scoff. We were two bottoms in love, and it’s hard to make it work in the long term, without fucking other people. We’re way better off as friends. And the other dudes I dated, it was just— me being a drunken asshole, most of the time. I was a very shitty boyfriend for a looong-ass time.

There’s a stretch of silence, and Steve slides down the couch, still frowning: man… I just wonder why you asked that question in the first place. Because it seems to me like you wanted to brag a little about this incredible hookup you had in fucking… Japan. Do you miss fucking other people, Eddie?

He sighs, rakes a hand through his hair: Steve, I literally just told you I don’t. I might romanticize it, the— the way I might romanticize being on drugs, but I don’t want to go back to that. I asked because I want to know everything about you! I dunno, I— I guess I like Japan. It’s such a weird place, I really want to go back there, he says and inches closer, placing a calm hand on his thigh: come with me. Like, for two weeks or something. We’d take the girls with us, go in the summer or for the spring break. Would be cool to just wander around, shop, sing karaoke, eat tons of good food. Go to Kyoto, see the geishas, tea ceremony. Go to hot springs. Japan’s truly like no place you’ve ever been to.

I didn't know you liked it that much. A trip does sound nice, says Steve, with a small smile. Emily would go crazy, she loves those cartoons. Chels would like it too, I think.

Eddie smiles and squeezes his leg: sounds like a plan. Also, just to— get it out of the way: from the moment you first kissed me, I stopped thinking of us as casual. I was, like, fully fully back in love with you in point two seconds. Even before that, to be honest. If I ever for a single moment considered that a hookup, it’d totally blow that businessman out of the water. If you want, I could show you, uh, how I blew him out of the— fucking—, he falters, then snorts: sorry, failed metaphor. But you catch my drift.

Yes, please, says Steve.

[chosopie]

I love the conquer Sukana but imagine this. You baby brother Yuji, met Sukana on a walk last night after sneaking out and 'befriend' him so y/b obviously is worried cause who this Sukana so she goes with Yuji and meets Sukana herself. Sukana falls in love and rizz her up successfully so technically Yuji Unknownly set Sukana and Y/n up

MISSION: LOVE - RYOMEN SUKUNA

It was night time—the forbidden hours. Yuji mustered up the courage to bring himself outside without asking you for permission. You were sound asleep, without a single worry in your head as your mind wandered into the land of dreams. He felt guilty for going behind your back, especially since all you ever did was take care of him and try to keep him safe from the dangers of the world.

Yuji was already 15, and he was very much capable of taking a night stroll. Except it wasn’t really night anymore, it was midnight, 12:34 A.M. to be exact. You were going to kill him for going out this late, but he knew it was going to be worth it as long as his plan works.

You have been single for quite a while and Yuji thought it was time for you to meet someone. It was his way of giving back after everything you did for him. He wanted you to have someone else in your life. Your routine was pitiful to look at, for it was an endless cycle of work-cook-clean-attend to Yuji. He felt guilty for being your responsibility at all times, since your parents were no longer there to do that job.

“She must be so miserable,” Yuji sighed.

The cold breeze blew his face, and he smiled in delight, taking in the serenity and freedom the midnight had offered him. He raked his hair with his fingers as he continued to walk towards the nearby convenience store. There had to be someone there who could be a perfect candidate. He pondered, his mind replaying the exact words you told him when he asked you what your type was.

“Someone strong, capable, tall, and intimidating. I kind of like the bad boys, you know?” Those were the exact words you said.

Yuji kept repeating your words in his head like a mantra while he walked towards he glass doors. He pushed them open, and his eyes got to work, scanning every person in the room. His eyes landed on the cashier guy. He was quite short and nerdy-looking. He has a nice nose but he just seemed too uptight.

Nope. Next.

There was this tall man in a blue shirt who was checking the fruits. He looked like a foreigner. He had blonde hair, a tall and muscular stature, but he also seemed like some goody two shoes type of guy.

Next.

“Woah,” Yuji gasped as he stared at the big and tall man who was checking the beers in the refrigerator. He had pink hair, tattoos, and an ear piercing. He had this grumpy and intimidating aura. “He’s perfect.”

He quickly walked up to him, but suddenly got shy and scared. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked up at the guy. “Excuse me… are you single?”

The big stranger grimaced. “Fuck off, will you? Aren’t you a teenager? Plus, I ain’t into that gay shit.”

“No,” Yuji squeaked, clearly embarrassed and regretting his choice of words now. “You might be interested in my older sister.”

The man thought about it, then looked back at Yuji. “Is she hot?”

“I don’t know how to answer that…”

“Alright, whatever. Give me her number.”

“I’ll just tell her to come here,” Yuji took his phone out and dialed in your number. “Uh, what’s your name, sir?”

“Sukuna.”

-

“What the fuck?” You groaned and rubbed your eyes. Your phone loudly rang and vibrated.

“Yuji” the contact name was displayed on your screen, causing you to panic. You quickly tapped on the button to accept his call.

“Oh my god, where are you? What happened?” You frantically asked him.

“It’s my new friend Sukuna. Convenience store. Now.” Yuji quickly dropped the call before you could ask more questions.

“Who on earth is Sukuna?” You groaned and rummaged your closet for some clothes, preparing yourself for whatever mess Yuji had gotten himself into. The frustration was getting to you, not only because you were tired and sleepy, but also because Yuji had decided to venture off at night all alone without your permission. What was he even thinking? Of course, you were more worried than mad, especially when you heard the name of another man. A million scenarios raced around your head, your mind trying to pick the most probable situation.

-

“Yuj!” You pushed the door open and searched all the aisles until you reached the alcohol section where Yuji stood with a stranger. “Who is this?”

Yuji deviously smile, mischief glinting in his eyes. “What’cha think about him? He’s your type, right?”

“Are you kidding me, Yuji?”

Now you were really angry. All that trouble because Yuji was trying to set you up with someone? What if he met someone dangerous? You shook away your frustrations, your attention now on the mad that stood before you. Shit, he is handsome. You hated to admit but Yuji succeeded.

“Yeah, he is,” you quietly mumbled, and you felt your face grow hot.

“What’s that?” Sukuna pointed behind you.

You quickly turned around, and found nothing. “Huh?” When you turned back to face them, you felt a finger poke your cheek.

“What a fucking dumbass,” Sukuna laughed.

“I wouldn’t fall for that if we were friends, but you’re just a stranger,” you protested. Your face was now as pink as his hair.

“Let’s change that, dumb woman.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fine, I’ll stop, only because you’re pretty…” Sukuna sighed.

“Good,” you beamed.

“…Pretty dumb.” He added, his big hand ruffling your hair. Ignoring his corny remark, you couldn’t help but smile at the oddly sweet gesture.

Yuji triumphantly smirked, his arms crossed while he watched the two of you. “I’m way too good at this.”

[fem-the-artist]

I don’t know why, but I have just such a specific HeadCanon for Timmy’s dating history as he grows up, technically it’s related to my magic future AU, but it can also just be taken as not 



 So I guess here’s all his past relationships in order of when I think they happen as well as the reason they broke up and how long they dated for

1. Cindy vortex.  I count the times they hung out and went to the dance and all that stuff during the Timmy Jimmy power hours as of them dating. It was long distance, but trust. Anyway, incredibly short-lived. Because even though they were both interested in each other for a little bit they were so young and immature that that interest only lasted for so long A great example is in the third Timmy Jimmy power hour and all interest they pretty much had for each other had dissipated.

2. Chester Mcbadbat, hear me out Chester is gay as fuck especially for Timmy, they dated in late elementary school for only two weeks and then broke up because Timmy forgot they were dating in the first place. and Chester didn’t talk to him for a week after that but they’re cool now. 

3. Remy Buxaplenty, the whole relationship was a Yiiikes. I like to think this was around Lake middle school early high school so about 13-ish , they got along. They had a great time but Remy has a pension for jealousy and envy, and the two of them we’re just not good together. They broke up and it was messy.

4. Trixie Tang, started dating around 15.  she started to get less dependent on her friends approval at this point which is how this happened. And although Timmy isn’t popular, he does throw awesome parties, so I feel like this is part of the reason she gave him a chance, because like who doesn’t want to be invited to his parties there infamously awesome every time. But aside from that, they got along surprisingly well the reason they broke up is because a trixie realized she was a lesbian and at that point Timmy’s egg hasn’t cracked yet. so no real room for argument he was really happy that she figured this out about herself, but also incredibly heartbroken because he really liked her. He went on a little bit spiral after this because depressed teen angst. 

5. Remy again. within the following summer after his break up with Trixie. He would date, break up, get back together with Remy three times. also, Remy has a tendency to love bomb. so whenever a break up was his fault he would pretty much shower Timmy with gifts until he took him back. not at all healthy but they’re teenagers, so what are you gonna do

6. Tootie (I realize she doesn’t have a last name). They’re 17 during this one. dated for five months which to Timmy’s credit is the longest relationship he’s had so far. broke up because they realize they were acting the exact same way they were when they were friends, and they realize neither of them actually have romantic feelings for each other. (cough cough a little bit after this tootie realizes she’s aroace and only thought she had a crush on Timmy because early 2000s if girl like boy it Hass to be romantic cough) They are however, trauma bonded, and stay best friends 

7. Jimmy neutron. young adults at this point took forever for them to get together because Jimmy couldn’t except his feelings for the longest time, and Timmy didn’t realize he had any. dated for two years broke up because their lives were going in different directions and work got in the way. 

To elaborate a little more this is when Timmy started his training to become a fairy warden, and that took up a lot of time that he couldn’t expand on hopping between dimensions

They mutually agreed to try their relationship again when they have more of their lives figured out 

As of within the AU in the current timeline, a.k.a. new wishes taken place 

Timmy and Tootie still best friends got platonically married because they both wanted children and they trust each other more than anyone else, and now we have Tommy and Tammy as a result, they’re more like roommates than husband and wife, but they do coparent

(Timmy might be potentially casually seeing Jimmy at this time, but I haven’t fully decided) 

Oh yeah also Timmy’s egg officially cracked at 18 and he came out as bi gender he/she pronouns 



[corazondebeskar-reads]

fall, with you: part three - trick or treat

Joel Miller x gn! reader

main masterlist |mini-series masterlist | prev | epilogue

words: 1.4k

summary: who the hell trick or treats at the end of the world?

warnings: pre- and post-outbreak, death, cordyceps, loss, grief, outbreak day, fluff weaponized for angst

note: anything in italics is either during or post outbreak. everything else is pre-outbreak. this story is not told chronologically and skips around a lot. i'm experimenting for fun.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“It’s Halloween!” Sarah yells from the other side of the bedroom door. She had, unfortunately, learned a lesson about not barging in a couple months ago. 

“It’s five in the morning,” Joel retorts, voice hoarse with sleep. 

You love him when he first wakes up. You love him all the time, but this? Squinting, hair sticking every which way, looking more like he crawled out of a cave after hibernation than a nice six-hour snooze? He’s fucking gorgeous. 

“On Halloween,” Sarah says. Her burgeoning teenage attitude is strong enough to filter in under the door. 

“So what?” he mutters.

“So I gotta get to school early so we can do each other’s makeup,” she reminds him. 

He groans. “Can’t y’all just do your own makeup?”

“Dad,” she groans. “You know Jessica’s mom doesn’t let her wear makeup.”

“So you’re aiding and abetting,” you say seriously to Joel before he shoves a pillow at you. 

“Gimmie like… gimmie like fifteen minutes, baby girl,” he says as he flops back onto the bed, facedown into the mattress since you’ve yanked away his other ammo. 

“What the fuck is Halloween, and why is the lady with the crazy eyes trying to get me excited about it?” Nate says, his backpack thumping against the dining room table where he drops it. Your dining room table. In your house.

You still don’t really understand it. It’s been two days and somehow you’re here, in a house, with this boy that is not your son, but maybe now he is because that’s how they’d written your names down in the register. And maybe he’s not your son, but you raised him in this awful excuse for a world, and you certainly hadn’t bothered to teach him about Halloween. 

“What’re you talking about?” you say from where you’re staring at a cabinet full of dishes. Ceramic fucking dishes. It’s not quite a whole set, but there’s still more here than you ever had back in any of the QZs. You turn around to look at him. “Never mind, better question. What’re you wearing?”

“Someone painted my face,” he says, wrinkling his nose.

“Like… against your will?” you ask, biting back a laugh. 

“Yes and no. I agreed because she wouldn’t shut up,” he says, flopping into one of the chairs. The chairs at your table. The table in your house. Where you live now, you guess, with this boy who isn’t your son. 

You’ve only been here for two days, but you have a house, with a table, chairs, and a boy. Jackson is home to the real zombie apocalypse, you decide, having resurrected parts of a world long dead. 

“Halloween, huh? Well, fuck me sideways. Never thought I’d hear about Halloween again,” you say.

“Five in the morning,” Joel grumbles uselessly. “Fuck me sideways, I guess.”

“Nah,” you say, nudging him with your shoulder. “I can do you one better than that.” You wink and slide down the mattress, settling in for your favorite way to wake him up. His favorite, too, if the wet spot on his sweatpants is any indicator of how fast he’s gotten on board with your plan.

“Who wouldn’t shut up?” you ask.

“This girl Ellie. She’s like my age and says that since we’re gay orphans we have to stick together. Which, so far, means she tries to boss me around.”

You snort. “Gay orphan solidarity, huh?” But it makes something warm spread through your chest. Two days and he’s already making friends. Reluctantly or not. To be fair, you tried to socialize him. Signed him up for FEDRA schools in every QZ. The problem was that the stupid zones grew less and less secure every day, and the goddamn Fireflies turned neighborhoods into war zones. It’s not that they were wrong, FEDRA fucking sucks, but they kept driving you to flee in the middle of the night.

Maybe that wouldn’t be a problem, now. No FEDRA, no Fireflies. Just people trying to do right by each other, which wasn’t a sentiment you thought had survived the outbreak. 

“She wants me, or us, to go trick or treating?”

You snort. “They got candy here?”

He furrows his brow. “What’s candy?”

“Go on, now,” Joel says, rolling his eyes and giving Sarah a little nudge. “And don’t forget to get some KitKats for your old man.”

“Get your own candy, old man” Sarah says, giggling and running up the sidewalk. She’s Rapunzel this year, complete with frying pan. It’s hit the ground several times already, making Joel cringe. 

Nate’s fellow "gay orphan" friend, Ellie, is a nice kid. A little rough around the edges with a wild look in her eyes, but that’s not a bad thing. She’s tough but tender, a sentiment you know well. Nate’s had to leave every friend he’s ever made behind, and you find yourself hoping that won’t be true here. 

When they get to a particular house, Ellie doesn’t knock, just opens the door and goes in. 

“What happened to trick or treat?” says the woman you met on arrival in Jackson. Mary? Martha? 

“Gotta use the bathroom, sorry Maria,” Ellie says over her shoulder, not sounding sorry at all. 

Maria shakes her head fondly and looks to you. “Come in, you don’t have to wait out there. She dragging you all over town?”

You nod and give her a cautious, gracious smile. “The full tour, she called it.” 

Maria leads you into the next room and gestures at the sofa. “I’m glad to see you’re settling in,” she says. But as you enter the room, you’re stopped, frozen, in front of the mantle. 

Your eyes are blurry. They must be, because you’d know that jersey anywhere. That face. That smile. But that’s impossible, this is impossible. This photo can’t be here. Practically across the country. You took that photo. You’d know it anywhere. 

Sarah, laughing. A blue Gatorade in one hand, spilling haphazardly. Just out of frame is Joel, grinning stupidly as he pretends to recoil from her, sweaty and smelly after the game. Of course, he’d hugged her just moments later. You took a picture of that, too. 

“Maria… why do you…” you have to take a shaky breath. “Why d’you have a picture of my… Sarah?”

The woman in question sits up straight suddenly. “Your Sarah?”

“Oh shit,” Ellie says on an exhale. 

“I mean… I guess she… just answer the damn question,” you say, suddenly angry. “Why the fuck do you have this picture, Maria?”

But you already know. There’s really only one answer. When in doubt, the simplest thing is often right. 

“What’d you say your husband's name was?” you interrupt whatever she was saying.

“I didn’t. His name is Tommy. Tommy—”

“Sorry about him. That’s my brother. Tommy.”

“Miller,” you whisper.

“Uncle Tommy!” 

The world drops out from under you. Or, it would have, if Nate hadn’t seen it coming and caught you, arms under yours. You steady yourself, a hand on his shoulder to assure him you’re not going to black out. 

“Shut up, Tommy.” 

Instead, you sit down, criss-cross-applesauce, right there on her living room floor in front of the fireplace. 

“Sorry to wake you up, Sugar. Tommy called; I gotta go get him.”

A tender kiss — and another, and another. Lips, nose, forehead. 

A longing look you didn’t know would be the last. 

“Your husband is Tommy Miller,” you repeat, but it sounds like your voice is coming from underwater somewhere nearby. 

“You knew them.” 

You don’t need to answer. Which is good, because you can’t. You’re shaking, and you only realize how out of control this has gotten when you see Nate’s dark eyes wide with worry. 

“Oh shit,” Ellie repeats.

“Ellie, why don’t you and Nate get back out there? We’ll find you,” Maria says. Ellie tries to steer Nate out of the room, but he won’t leave your side, brushing her hand away. 

“I’m sorry,” Maria says. The tone is all you need to hear. The condolences, the understanding of what this world has taken, keeps taking. 

“They’re gone,” you say. Your throat is suddenly so dry, cracking, strained. In truth, you had accepted it long ago. Because the chances? They just weren’t good. And even if they had lived, you knew that survival was hard to come by in this world. Hope had no place here. So you grieved. And oh, had you grieved.

“He’s not dead,” Maria says. “Just Sarah. Joel is… well, he’s here. In Jackson.”

You stare at her for a good fifty seconds before you do the only thing left in your brain.

On shaky legs, you get to your feet, and you bolt. 

Oop. Sorry. there’s going to be one more part (an epilogue). My brain said so. I don’t make the rules, I just work here.

[itsclydebitches]

We've all rightly been gushing over Trent listening in on the parent-teacher conference and there are a lot of cool interpretations for why he'd eavesdrop: a crush on Ted, a tendency towards gossip (as seen in "International Break"), the fact that you just can't take the journalism out of the boy, Trent is clearly picking up personal tidbits for the book if the group's initial "Don't print that" worries are any indication, etc. So yeah, it's clear why he'd want/be okay with the door staying open.

Meanwhile, I'm slightly feral over Ted letting the door stay open and what that conveys to Trent.

Based on what we've picked up about his personal life and the direction of this season, we have good reason to believe that Trent was a deeply isolated man prior to Ted arriving. His job makes enemies simply by virtue of the profession itself, especially when you "bring the heat" as hard as he did. Roy flipping the press off at the gala in Season 1 and Nate sneaking out at dark this last episode shows us how journalists are treated on the regular: ignored, dismissed, told to "fuck off" as a matter of course. That's often well deserved, as Roy's two personal stories (Trent's article about him + the response to Isaac's attack) attest, but the end result is still a profession that alienates you from anyone other than your peers. When you're a "colossal prick" in your articles, people hate you all the more.

So Trent at least has other journalist buddies, yeah? Well, not that we've seen. I always think back to that chorus of "--The Independent" in the press room when everyone knew what Trent was going to say and how it... wasn't entirely fun ribbing. I think there's a fair bit of mockery there. Even if others disagree, I doubt that was received well by someone who wears their professionalism as an armor, who takes off his glasses as soon as they're complimented, who was, notably, closeted into his 40s. Trent is a man who is deeply aware of how others perceive him (pointing out his "vibe" feels quite calculated now: highlight what you want people to notice rather than waiting for them to find something on their own) and he is likely to read the worst of most interactions. Cue his shocked, "You really mean that, don't you?" when faced with someone like Ted who is not only genuinely nice, but blunt about it in a way that Trent can't misunderstand, or brush off via denial.

What's his home life like? Married to a woman when he's gay and that's putting a serious strain on them both. He tries to come out and isn't believed. The only other family members we know about are a toddler (who, while lovely I'm sure, can't provide Trent with the kind of emotional support an adult needs) and a father who, if we read the series through Lance's headcanons, may not have been very supportive of his son. Who else does Trent know? Uhhh... other subjects who hate him? Owners like Rebecca who want to use him? A random, potential date that he felt so little for he ditched to get a quote?

(EDIT: I can't believe I forgot to mention the strong implications that Ted was bullied in childhood/as a teenager, based on how he reacts to the whole of the club ignoring him -- resigned but unsurprised -- his reaction to Roy telling him to fuck off after he tries to mend that relationship -- disappointedly awkward "I can't believe I even tried that. What was I thinking?" -- and his body language during the locker room scene -- jumping, furtive glances towards Ted, backed up against the shower stall because shit, he's been in this situation before.

So uh, yeah. Trent may not have had a lot of friends growing up either! That was not the response of a social butterfly, but rather someone who is already very used to being ignored/dismissed/cursed out/threatened, not just within his profession, but within the school-like atmosphere of Richmond's family too.)

I'm by no means reinventing the meta wheel here, but Trent has truly undergone a STAGGERING transformation in Season 3 and the result of that is the reframing of his Season 1 and 2 scenes as, frankly, more depressing than they originally seemed. Seeing him now smiling, singing, gossiping, dressing just in t-shirts, casually snacking, making jokes, letting go enough to be a complete, hyperactive "dork" in front of others... it just hammers home how deeply unhappy Trent was before. How closed off. How closeted--in more ways than one.

So what must it mean to someone like Trent for Ted to leave the door open?

It's not just an open invitation towards community--sit near me, listen in, quietly participate, there's literally no barrier between us--but a staggeringly personal one too. I don't care if a 10-ish year old failing science is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, the fact remains that letting anyone hear a parent-teacher conference with your ex is a hell of a show of trust. That would mean a lot to Trent in general, this acknowledgement that someone trusts the ex-prick journalist with that amount of personal information, but Ted in particular? Oh boy. Ted is the one Trent betrayed with that article! And yeah, Ted forgave him the instant he learned of it, but Trent himself was obviously feeling a lot of guilt, hence him burning his source and orchestrating a firing. Toss in the fact that Ted, despite being a VERY open man on the regular (I still laugh at his "I don't mind" to Rebecca when over-sharing about Michelle) has in fact denied Trent information in the past. No, I won't tell you that was a panic attack. Yes, I will continue the lie that it was food poisoning. Perhaps for Ted it was less about Trent knowing and more about anyone getting at the truth, but at the end of the day it amounts to the same: there was a time when Ted did not fully trust him and Trent justified that fear by writing the very article Ted was looking to avoid, even if Trent approached that situation with as much grace as he could.

So this moment, beyond the humor, just makes my brain go !!!!!! for Trent. Ted Lasso, of all people, has left the door open for Trent Crimm, also of all people, to hear the messy details of his, Henry, and Michelle's life. He is not at all afraid that this information will be spun in a bad light--Local Gaffer's Son Suffers While Father Plays at Coach Across the Pond--despite the fact that Trent is actively writing a book about him. Trent himself is so unguarded in this moment, dressed only in a t-shirt, playing around with his orange, making little quips. The Trent of Season 1 would NEVER. I mean, I think we see small glimpses of the real Trent back then, especially when Ted amuses him enough to coax his guard down for half a second (Trent's reaction to “Make like Dunst and Union and bring it on, baby!" comes to mind. That's a gesture we're seeing a lot now that he's comfortable around the club), but on the whole he was still so, so, so isolated. No one knew the real him: gay, funny, dorky, inquisitive, longing for companionship and using the artificial 'closeness' of journalism to cover that ache up.

Now? Trent is fully a part of the Richmond community and he knows he's a part of it because everyone--Ted, Beard, Roy, Colin, Rebecca--are going out of their way to tell him that, notably in very overt ways. Trent strikes me as someone who wouldn't fully believe it when he's told someone enjoys his company; the kind of wounded, anxiety-prone person who, if casually invited to participate, would assume they're just being polite and he'd actually be an annoyance to them. Trent needs overt, obvious, beat-you-over-the-head-with-it reassurance, which is why Ted is so very good for him because Ted is composed of THE most over-the-top positivity you've ever seen. (Compare that need of Trent's to Michelle thinking that Ted is too much...) When faced with a defensive journalist Ted says explicitly that he liked spending time with Trent. When faced with a still unsure writer who thinks of himself only as an observer--never a part of the team himself--Ted literally begs with monkey noises to hear Trent's opinions. He's blunt to the point of absurdity and someone like Trent who has likely spent the majority of his life hiding/being told that his true self is inadequate needs that level of constant, neon-light reassurance.

So Ted leaves the door open to a personal conversation, refusing to literally bar Trent from his life. The best part? Colin re-opens the door because he understands Trent and he knows his coach; of course Ted wants him included. Colin asks permission to CLOSE the door, not open it, and Trent is seeing this openness again and again over the course of several months, with each episode bringing him further out of his shell as he slowly unlearns that self-doubt. Yes, please stay, please tell us what you think, please offer your advice, please join our Diamond Dogs, please ask us questions (they're no longer perceived as a threat), please become an integral part of our lives. We trust you and we like you and we want you here.

Everyone's waiting for Trent to catch the door again because, you know, the rule of three, but what if he doesn't need to? What if he's past slipping a hand or a foot through the crack and scraping by on what that gets him? He caught the door before it could close to get closer to Colin. He caught the door before it could close to get closer to Ted. Now they've both kept the door open for him, his presence welcomed from the get-go.

Trent doesn't need to sprint for that opening anymore.

[evelynpr]

bakugou for the character ask game?

Truly the teenage boy, shonen deuteragonist, love interest coded, gay asshole, of all time.

My first impression - Woah I did not understand why people were so into this guy. Like I get it, he's a flawed and loud pretty boy, he gets character development, and probably gay, but seriously him??? His mouth is so fucking foul and he is so up his ass. - I was meh with this character, enjoyed him in fan content, but just did not get why people were sooo into this guy.

My impression now - I cried in "Light Fades To Rain". Twice. - My god his growth...his will, his persistence, and by god his love for Izuku is so ridiculous and powerful I just cannot help but admire the little shithead. - He is also a lot more to me than I expected, with the whole "foul mouth shit", "high expectations bullshit", "violent urges", and "dedicating your whole life and love to someone you love and admire" and that...that makes me feel quite conflicted.

Favorite thing about that character - The thing about Bakugou is that...you just cannot help but wish you had the same kind of persistence, strength, will, and power that he does. I love how all this is initially so shallow and selfish, then grows to wanting to be a better and truer hero. He really learns and changes and is just an unstoppable force of nature, it's genuinely incredible and beautiful to watch.

Least favorite thing - I wished that the overall writing did go harder in making him stop bad-mouthing people and...everything so much. You can tell he did grow to respect and care for people around him more, but by gods he is sooo bad at communicating his feelings right now. (tbf, he is so fucking young and traumatized) - Also, really please stop hitting people. I get a knee-jerk reaction to that kind of physical violence sometimes ngl.

Favorite line/scene - There are so many. I already mentioned his death in "Light Fades to Rain" so I'll mention a different one - Team Bakugou in Class A vs B was so goddamn good, for being a monumental milestone of his character. How much he trusted his teammates and put himself in danger to save others, winning in the end. No injuries, no failures, truly a perfect beautiful victory. How he also pushes Deku to keep getting better afterwards in his usual constipated-ass language too. Man I just love that battle to death.

Favorite interaction that character has with another - (me pulling out scenes that aren't bkdk centered here hahaha) - I fucking LOVED the Bakugou vs Ochako fight. It made me love Ochako so so much as a kid. I really wished we had a follow-up to that battle, and it genuinely changed my life. - I love how it really shows just how focused and rational he is in battle. How he truly respects his opponents, Ochako in this case, and the sports festival really establishes so much about him.

A character that I wish that character would interact with more - Speaking of which...OCHAKO VS BAKUGO 2 COME ONNNN - There is SO MUCH these two need to talk about. How to save people, who they want to save, who saved them, never underestimating each other, how they changed and grew. I just love these two characters to bits, that's why I need them to FIGHT AND TALK SO BADDDD - Additional: Also Toga (see my post on Toga right before this one lmao), Shoto (because I still don't really get their friendship but its hilarious, and I love Shoto)

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character - I legit cannot think of anything here...like for Toga...I am so sorry my brain is blanking T__T - It's hard to be a massive anger-issue filled, victory-focused, die for their lover (twice), amazing chef, all at once, kinda guy...you know?

A headcanon about that character - I am a believer in trans!fem Bakugo in the future. He's so ridiculously angry for some reason, voice always cracking, and just on-edge for some reason. Idk I just think its hilarious and satisfying if he transed his gender in the future and became happier and more comfortable.

A song that reminds of that character - I also have a Bkdk playlist in the making! Here's some bkg focused songs in character development order: - Boys will be Bugs, President Perfect, Top of my School, Oh No!, I'm Gonna Win, The Last of the Real Ones, Skyfall, Die For You, Set Fire to the Rain

An unpopular opinion about that character - Like Toga, he actually isn't possessive. I think he quite well understands and accepts that Izuku is a very loving person that many people are easily drawn to (I mean, he'd be a hypocrite if he didn't understand that). - He is protective instead of possessive. He keeps an eye out for anything and anyone who could possibly actually hurt Izuku, but he doesn't hold him back at all in hanging around with others, and when other people fall for Izuku either. - He is actually quite skinny, and doesn't have the big thick buff guy build. Those go to Izuku and Iida more imo.

Favorite picture - I never really thought of this much??? I love art of him being softer, more solemn, quiet and contemplative even. I guess I'll go pick out some favs right now...

Here they are! Hope you enjoy the post lmao

[moonlit-lake-sys]

Just saw Strange World, and honestly, I only had one gripe with it. But it's also a huge one.

Disney? You didn't fucking market this thing. At all. My mom is a HUGE Disney fan and she didn't know about the movie's existence until two days ago when I showed her the trailer.

I went to a theater to see this movie. I went with my mom and one of my brothers. There were maybe around 4 or 5 other people in the entire room. That's it. And this theater isn't small by any means. It's an Emagine. It's a good place.

Sure, it's a late Wednesday night and Thanksgiving is tomorrow, but COME ON. Less than 10 people in the theater? Are you joking?

It's clear to me that this movie was poorly advertised due to its actually good and inclusive rep. An interracial couple, who has a gay teenage son. Their son being gay isn't a lil thing that's mentioned once, it's brought up multiple times and it is more than clear that the son is crushing on another boy. It's treated no different from any other relationship.

Disney, good on you for having a main character be canonically gay and have it be very clear, but also not in-your-face the whole time. You made an actually good queer character.

But Disney? Fuck you for this lack of marketing. You wanted to see this movie fail. If it does, I'll never be over it.

Either way, I'd recommend this movie. I loved watching it tonight. Definitely gonna rewatch it sometime.

[drarryspecificrecs]

2023.08 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Good Intentions by Gloworm13 [E, 382k]

►Harry never expected a conversation over returning Draco's wand. [...] Harry can't cope, especially when his group of peers is sent back to Hogwarts to finish their interrupted Seventh Year. And Draco Malfoy is wholly unprepared for facing the love of his life every fucking day now that he knows.

2. About Everything We Fucked Up and Tried to Fix by @zoooooey0610 [E, 246k]

►The time is the Dark Middle Ages, even with Voldemort defeated, the Wizarding world is still a place where Omegas are seen as properties. Couldn’t sleep, Harry came across ‘The Slytherin Wall of Sluts’ that changed the rest of his life, but the cog wheel of destiny may have started to move long before that. Twelve years later, he was confronted with the presents of destiny, and struggled to deal with the mess. However, every step he took seemed to be another mistake.

3. Cut From the Sky by @mallstars [E, 150k]

►"I'm stuck in a time loop, reliving November 2nd. This is the 111th time I've lived through today." Draco stilled. His moody eyes, the tension in his hands where he gripped onto his umbrella, the careful mask of blankness flickering over his face — everything about him was so difficult and so very dear to Harry. "Ah," said Draco, "and?"

4. After the Rain Falls by @shinigami714 [E, 95k]

►After the events of the war, all Harry wants to do is forget. For everything to return to normal. But things never were normal for him, and the war left many marks on him not so easily forgotten. When he receives a surprising offer to return to Hogwarts in a continuing education program, Harry jumps at the chance, and despite his best efforts to deal with his problems alone, discovers along the way that quite often, two minds are greater than one.

5. guard dog by chrismare [?, 63k]

►The first thing Draco ever loved was the Manor. Not the house- it was too big, too quiet, too cold- but the grounds that surrounded it. He grew up on stinging soles, running barefoot through his own little world. One of the house elves had cleaned the tiny cuts on his feet once and told him that he'd get used to it, that he'd grow calluses and it would stop hurting. It never really did.

6. Dating Draco Malfoy by @queenofthyme [M, 60k]

►Draco Malfoy is dating his way through Harry Potter’s endless pool of ex-boyfriends. With the help of Harry’s expert dating advice, he just might find exactly who he’s looking for...

7. Snogging Lessons by Revolocard [T, 58k]

►Harry Potter thought the hardest part about being the Chosen One would be preparing to fight Voldemort. He didn't expect it might actually be missing out on all the normal teenaged stuff. Now in sixth year, Harry feels like an outsider, too worried about being the subject of another Witch Weekly article to try to take part. When he and Draco Malfoy land in a semester's worth of detention, Draco is delighted and horrified to discover the Boy Who Lived is not only a virgin, he doesn't even know how to snog. Secret snogging lessons. It's not like it's anything more than just catching Harry up a bit. What could go wrong?

8. That Marriage Contract by Umeko [E, 54k]

►What happens when the forced marriage and male pregnancy trope combine to spring a surprise on the Boy Who Lived and his arch-rival turned unwitting fiancé? And they all have two dearly departed grandfathers to thank for the mess.

9. Terrible People by @wolfpants [E, 52k] --- ART by @getawayfox

►What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right? Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.

10. and i ignite by @pixiedunhoff [M, 51k]

►Draco Malfoy loves attention - and the Muggle world has given it to him in spades. Through a surprising and humbling series of events, Draco has achieved tremendous success in the music industry. He has recouped his fortune, earned legions of adoring fans, and gets loads of attention. Over the years, it has still never been quite enough… Until the subject of his more sizzling songs abruptly barges back into his life, demanding answers.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

The Best and Worst of Times after the War (aka A Tale of Two Soldiers) by WriterwithaWindow [M, 11k]

chasing embers by ryyss [M, 29k]

Firestarter by Justlikewriting [M, 22k]

For each time I see you, things change a little bit by Writelikethat [M, 10k]

i think i might be gay by @stvrlvghtwrites [T, 10k]

Just Nice Things by wodnica [E, 31k]

No One Likes a Mad Woman by @thomasbrodiesandwich [T, 17k]

only the brave by slytheringoddess945 [T, 10k]

Possibly, perhaps be my boyfriend? by @23ster [G, 16k]

Seek, And Ye Shall Find by @nami-writes [T, 14k]

The Switch by @ashiiblack [M, 11k]

Take Me Back (To The Night We Met) by @onelatenight-longago [T, 12k]

What’s Mine is Yours by @fluxweeed [E, 17k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

HD Wireless 2023 | @hd-wireless

HP Bodice Ripper Fest 2023 | @hp-bodiceripper

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