Tumgik
#i thought of this in the shower last night
gojonanami · 2 days
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❝ 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐎) !! ❞
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❝ A LOVE TRIANGLE GONE RIGHT ?! REPORTING FROM THE SET OF THE HIT SHOW JUJUTSU KAISEN ! ❞
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✧ pairing: actors!satoru gojo and suguru geto x actor!reader
✧ summary: rumors swirl about a love triangle between you and your two heart throb co-stars on the set of jujutsu kaisen. except in this case, you and your two co-stars are happily dating. but what happens when you get casted in a movie where they want you to have a PR relationship with your co-star? especially when your boyfriends find out who it is—
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut, no curses, modern au, jjk is a tv show, actor au, yes the actors and characters have the same names lol, reader is dating both of them, funny interview hijinxs, this is kind a lot of crack, jealous! gojo + geto, sukuna is here lmao, innuendos, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi-exhibitionism, face sitting (f! receiving), multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sex (p in v), double penetration, creampie, multiple rounds, swearing, fanart by @ / _3aem
✧ wc: 17,900
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“Reporters say the love triangle between the actors Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto and their co-star has become even more shrouded in mystery than the show itself!” an influencer reports on your social media of gchoice that morning, nearly vibrating from assumedly her three espressos, “the stars of Jujutsu Kaisen, the fantasy horror drama series written by Gege Akutami have been embroiled in dating scandals over the last few weeks—“ your phone’s notifications cut the audio from the video for a moment until you switch it to silent, “after being spotted leaving Suguru Geto’s loft just two nights ago, she was then seen having a lunch rendezvous with Satoru Gojo—“ 
You lock your phone, rubbing your temples, as the device nearly had an aneurysm from your social media notifications — buzzing itself off your dining room table and into an early death. Your agent was going to have a field day with this, and the main event is going to be your murder. 
“What are they saying about us now?” Suguru sighs, as he emerges out of the shower in only a towel wrapped around his waist, steam rolling out of the bathroom, as you offer him a coffee, his fingers brushing yours as he takes a sip, “my agent is demanding I call him— and I’d like to know what we’ve done now before he kills me,” he says, though he continues to sip his coffee nonchalantly, unbefuddled by the thought of his death. 
“Oi oi, calm down, shouldn’t you be more upset at the reporters than me?” Satoru comes from the bedroom, “Nanamin, just take care of it. Tell them we’re just friends if they ask you — do me a favor and pay off the reporter who got a picture of us kissing—“ and you nearly snort at the thought of Nanami Kento doing any sort of favor for Satoru. 
“You let him kiss you?” Suguru raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips, as your cheeks burn, rolling your eyes. 
“Not so much ‘let’ as he just kissed me without a second thought,” you shake your head, drinking your coffee as Satoru continues to bicker with Nanami, “I told him I thought I saw paparazzi but—“ 
“Satoru is do first, ask questions never,” Suguru sighs, but still the smirk remains, as he leans closer to you, his large palm against the back of your chair, “you never let me kiss you in public,” 
And you’re resisting the urge to bite your lip, “You know better — look at what Satoru’s done now—“ 
“And was it worth it, Princess?” Your mind wanders to the kiss — Satoru’s hand against the nape of your neck, his lips sliding against yours, the faint taste of the strawberry cake he had for dessert lingering on his tongue and now yours, and the sticky heat that settled over your body from the too humid night air and his warmth leeching onto your skin, and the eyes watching his need for you made it all the more—
“Maybe,” you mumble, choosing to sip at your drink as Satoru cut off your conversation with his own. 
“Just deal with it, Nanami, that’s why I hired you after all, huh?” He earns a swear from Nanami for the claim that he ‘hired’ him in any way whatsoever, and then his lips curl. “No they aren’t here with me—“ the bespectacled man shouts from the other line, “eh? What do you mean I look and sound like a man who only lies?” And then he’s hanging up, running a hand through his hair, a pout on his lips, “I was supposed to wake up to the two of you, not Nanami’s tirade,” he groans, as he makes his way over to you, only to wrap his arms around you from behind. 
“Well, it is your fault, Satoru,” Suguru smirks over the rim of his cup, “someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves—“ 
“Jealous, Suguru?” he replies, as he presses a kiss to your neck, “jealous that our princess is much more affectionate with me,” 
Suguru cuts you off, “more like she babies you,” and Satoru’s face sours into a scowl, “if she had stayed at my apartment for the week, this wouldn’t have—“ 
“And then they would have seen me coming to your place, and what good would that do?” 
“Guys—“ you try to speak, but you’re cut off again. 
Suguru tilts his head with a small grin, “Are you lonely? Why don’t you find someon—“ 
“Stop, guys,” you couldn’t take this bickering this early in the morning, though you had grown used to it, “we have bigger problems to deal with than your egos,” you sigh, rising from Satoru’s grip even as he pouts, “we have to be more careful,” 
“But how? We’ve already cut down our appearances together for behind the scenes and even stopped going out for dinner or dates,” Satoru pouts, running a hand through his hair, “next thing you’ll want to break up,” 
“That’s not gonna happen,” you flick Satoru on the forehead, “but we have to do something, otherwise our agents will have us murdered,” 
“And Nanami will join them for sport,” Suguru adds, and you snort, finally finishing your drink, before he walks over to you, fingers under your chin, “so what’s your idea, sweetheart?” 
“Just take a break for a few weeks until the public finds something else to fixate on,” you sigh, “while the episodes air, all we’re going to get is more attention,” 
“We could just take a trip,” Satoru offers, “I own a private island—“ 
“Of course you do,” Suguru says, and Satoru only chuckles. 
“Being envious doesn’t become you, Suguru,” the snow haired actor clicks his tongue at him, before he’s pulling you into his arms, “we could go for a few days, get away from all the noise,” 
“It’s a good idea, but you’re forgetting one thing, Satoru,” Suguru tilts his head, “won’t they notice if we all go on vacation at the same time?” 
“Plus we have interviews to do in the coming week,” you remind Satoru, and he’s sighing, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “but maybe we can go after?” 
“Unless you get that role,” Satoru mumbles against your skin, pressing sweet kisses to the nape of your neck, “have you heard anything yet?” 
You shake your head, a sigh stuck in your throat, “It’s a long shot. This is such a big role and it’s for the lead,” and Suguru is finding his way to you, warm fingers cupping your cheek. 
“They would be lucky to have you — do you know how many people say you were their favorite character? They were ready to fight me and Satoru for you,” he adds with a chuckle, lips ghosting over the swell of your cheek, “I think they would beat us with sheer numbers,” 
“Nah, I’d win,” Satoru says, and you snort, rolling your eyes, “but he’s right princess, how crazy would they have to be not to cast you?” 
“There’s so many other talented people up for the role—“ 
“There’s always going to be someone else,” Suguru cuts you off gently, as his fingers find yours, lacing with yours so perfectly you wondered if it’s what they were made for, “but that doesn’t mean you’re any less valuable or incredible,” 
“And you’re already far more talented than you give yourself credit for,” Satoru adds, “but when do you get the role, inevitably,” Suguru smirks at him, “when would shooting begin?” 
“Probably just after our press wraps for season two,” you lean into their touch, “they still haven’t casted the two leads, but apparently both are down to the final audition,” and you’re pressing nosing Satoru’s cheek, before pressing a chaste kiss to Suguru’s nose, “and that’s why we’ll have to cool it for the next few weeks, ok?” 
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But you don’t — or rather they don’t. 
“Who is Satoru Gojo’s…” Satoru rips off the tape off the cardboard printout of Googled questions, “favorite actor to work with?” 
“We all know the answer to that,” Suguru replies with a sigh, his eyes sliding to you, and you roll your own. 
“Look who’s talking — these two are obsessed with each other,” and Satoru has a shit eating grin, sitting back and watching the two of you argue, “the two of you are soulmates — and I’m not talking about your characters,”
“Don’t go there,” Suguru scoffs, and you tilt your head, lips curling, as your gaze meets his. 
“Are you begging?” and you can’t help the way your tone bites back, falling far over the line of playful teasing and into blatant flirting, and you can only hope the camera plays off the dark glint in Suguru’s gaze as he smirks as teasing rather than what you know it is — lustful. 
“You’re both wrong anyway,” Satoru cuts in, “obviously my favorite actor to work with is Megumi!” 
And you and Suguru both snort, words falling from your lips in unison, “Poor Megumi,” 
“Ehhh? What do you mean by that?” And Satoru smacks you both playfully with the piece of cardboard an intern probably painfully put together before tossing it away. 
“What happened to Suguru Geto….” in Jujutsu Kaisen?” Suguru reads. 
“Dead,” you and Satoru answer in unison, and Suguru raises an eyebrow. 
“You both are a walking spoiler,” and you gape at Suguru. 
“They asked, and he’s the spoiler warning — he read ahead and told me that his character—“ and Suguru covers your mouth, looking the camera dead in the eye. 
“You’re welcome—ow!” And he pulls his hand away, “did you just bite me?” 
“You weren’t complaining last night,” Satoru says, earning a whack to the face with the cardboard printout from Suguru, “when you tried to steal her snacks—“ 
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And you weren’t really helping either. 
“Do you think of yourself as a heartthrob?*” You ask Satoru, hooked up to a lie detector, the polygraph examiner studying the results closely, as Suguru didn’t bother biting back his smile. 
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m not—“ 
“It’s a yes or no question, Satoru,” you cut him off as he sighs dramatically, running a hand through his snowy locks. 
“Then I’ll have to say yes,” and he’s winking at the camera, and you’re snorting, looking at the lie detector reader. 
“It’s the truth,” he says simply and the examiner nods, and you scoff, as Satoru only pouts at you. 
“Have you ever,” Suguru lets a chuckle escape his lips, “look at fan accounts for yourself? I can answer this one, yes he does, I’ve watched him do it—“ 
Satoru scoffs, doubling down, “can you blame me? My fans do such wonderful edits—“ 
“And inflate your ego to a catastrophic size—“ and Satoru is reaching across the table to cover your mouth. 
“Be careful she bites,” Suguru warns, leaning back in his chair, as you grin against Satoru’s hand, and he shrugs, lips curling. 
“Don’t worry, I like it,” 
The examiner nods, “that’s the truth.” 
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“We’ll start out tame,” you say, as you look at the list of thirst tweets in front of you and choosing one of the more…hinged ones, “Suguru Geto, I would let you kill me like the monkey I am, and I’d thank you for it,” and you show the tweet, “monkey emoji covering their face,” 
“That’s a tame one?” Suguru covers half his face with his hand, much like the emoji, “what the **** are the wild ones?” And you open your mouth to reply and he cuts you off, “I don’t want to know,” 
“Sweetheart, I’ll read one for you next,” and Satoru scans his list, and he clears his throat, holding out his hand to you, your name on his lips, “the only way I could die happy ever is if I suffocated when you sat on my face,” 
And heat climbs your face at his words, a single chuckle giving way to full laughter, “***, that’s a lot of pressure to put on me—“ 
“And on them,” Satoru adds, and you’re glaring at him only to dissolve into giggles, “I can't blame them. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go,” 
“It’s my turn,” Suguru scans the list and grimaces, “I don’t want to read this,” and then he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs, “I’d let Satoru Gojo **** me, spit in my mouth, and make my daddy issues worse, and I’d thank him for it, respectfully,” 
And you’re doubled over in laughter by the time he gets to the end of his monotone reading, while Satoru only grins at the camera, leaning against the table, as he pulls his sunglasses on only to tilt them down his nose. 
“I’m available.” 
No, this press junket did not help at all. 
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“Fuck,” you grumble, propping yourself on your elbow, your knuckles pressed to your lips, “how are we still trending? Aren't there other things to talk about?” 
“Stop checking it, it’s only making you crazy,” Suguru sighs, collapsing next to you on the couch, his hand thrown over the top of the couch, before it slips down behind you, warm palm resting on your hip, “there’s nothing you can do,” 
“My agent said she’s definitely going to get news on whether I got the part tomorrow — and tomorrow is when the last episode of the season is airing, and when—“ 
“The scene with Kenjaku at the end, I know,” Suguru presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, “think I could pull off stitches?” He drags a finger across his forehead teasingly. 
“If you’re asking for a lobotomy, I always wanted to try doing one,” Satoru walks in from the shower, hair still damp, as he squeezes on your other side, “Princess, you can be my nurse, hm?” 
“Did you already have one?” Suguru bites back, and Satoru doesn’t reply, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “she’s still worried about tomorrow,” 
“Don’t you know there’s no such thing as bad publicity?” Satoru presses a sweet kiss to your neck. 
“Not when they’re speculating if I’m dating or cheating on one or both of you,” you shake your head, “what if the director thinks I’m a liability?” 
“If the director thinks you’re a liability after seeing your work and meeting you, then he’s clearly blind,” 
You flick his sunglasses down, “can you say that four eyes?” 
“Don’t you mean six eyes?” Satoru sticks his tongue out at him, and Suguru’s fingers find yours, laced hands against your thigh, “whatever happens, happens — you know your worth,” 
“And your worth is far too high for you — only I could afford it,” he wiggled his eyebrows, and you shove Satoru, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you against him, his lips grazing the soft skin behind your ear, “how much?” 
“For you? A billion dollars,” and his lips find yours in a kiss, lazy but warm, heat from his touch spreading like a flames carried by the wind. 
“That all? What a bargain,” Satoru pulls a breath away, his lips curled in a grin, only for Suguru’s fingers to cup your chin and make you turn around. 
Deep purple irises you grew lost in, his thumb dragging down your kiss bitten lips, “and for our princess?” He hums, lips grazing yours teasingly, “a steal,” 
“Well, you both stole my heart so you might as well have the rest,” and Suguru’s lips finally find yours in a real kiss, deep and full, until your mind is filled with nothing but him — and Satoru, whose  lips ghost over your shoulder and collarbone and hands slip under your shirt, warm palms against your far too heated skin, “fuck—“ you’re sighing, melting agaisnt them, “Sugu, Toru,” you’re whining already, drawing smirks to both of their lips. 
“Let us take care of you, sweetheart,” Satoru whispers, lips finding your earlobe and sucking at the sensitive skin, and Suguru pulls away from your kiss for a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips. 
“We’ll get your mind off things, Princess,” and his fingers tease the waistband of your shorts, “all night long.” 
And they do, they keep their promise — the three of you falling into bed in a jumble of limbs, and you forget until the next morning. 
And in the morning—you get the call, “okay, thank you,” you hang up, still between mussed sheets and arms wrapped around your waist, “I got it!” 
“Heh, I knew you would,” Satoru mumbles, burying his face in your side, “I’m so proud of you, baby,” 
“Hm? Proud of her for what?” Suguru murmurs, half asleep, black locks strewn around his head like a halo. 
“I got the role, Sugu,” you lean down and kiss his nose, and he’s grinning wide, fingers winding into the back of your head to pull into a kiss, “you’re looking at the leading actor of a movie,” 
“You’re going to be in demand now, Princess,” Suguru says, dragging a thumb down your lips, “will you still make time for us?” 
“Of course, always — you’ll visit me on set right?”
“You sure, sweetheart? Maybe you’ll be too busy for us,” Satoru leans up and presses a kiss on your neck. 
“Maybe for you,” and he’s pouting, and you lean down to kiss his pout away, and then you get an email, “oh it’s the casting sheet for the other roles,” you scan the list, “oh,” 
“‘Oh?’” Suguru raises an eyebrow. 
“The male lead, he’s someone we know,” you sigh, rubbing your temples, “and I’m already getting a headache,” 
Satoru furrows his brow, as the two of them lean over your shoulders to look — Satoru scowling and Suguru glaring at your screen, as they say his name at the same time — as if summoning him from the underworld. 
“Sukuna?” 
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Ryomen Sukuna was both famous and infamous in the industry — famous for his portrayals of villains and antiheroes alike, ability to make you despise the enemy to the point of near or blatant admiration, and his skill of stepping into each role and taking it as his own. And he lives in infamy for, well, what happens between takes of the camera. 
“Look any longer and I’ll have you thrown off set, brat,” Sukuna says, without a glance at you, newspaper in hand as if he was pulled from thirty years ago, his phone seemingly laying discarded on a nearby. The P.A.s nearby cower a few feet away, trying to look preoccupied, as their terror has fully set in of this man. 
Or should you say monster?
“I see the stick up your ass makes you as pleasant as ever,” you mutter, and you don’t see that it earns you a smirk from him, his dark gaze takes over you, earning a glare from you, “now who’s staring?” 
He leans against the arm of his chair, “I was just noticing how lovely the view is without those two pests hanging on your every word,” and you’re rolling your eyes. 
“Jealous?” 
“Of your little throuple? No,” he smirks, rising from his chair, hands sliding into his pockets as he brushes by you, “because unlike those two,” he pauses, voice dropping to a whisper, “I know how to satisfy a woman on my own,” 
And you grit your teeth, holding your tongue — your relationship with Satoru and Suguru was a badly kept secret on the set or Jujutsu Kaisen, but it never was a problem — until now. 
You follow behind him, heading to the director’s trailer for your meeting before rehearsals began. 
“You want us to what?” 
“We spoke to your agents, and they agreed with us that it would be good publicity for the two of you to pretend to be a couple during the filming and leading up to production,” the director leans back in his seat, “it shouldn’t be a problem — the two of you have worked together before right?” 
You can’t hide your aghast expression in time, not before Sukuna glances at your face and sees the horror, and it puts a rare grin on his lips, “I’m in, what’s a little more acting?” 
You’re swallowing thickly, eyes flitting over Sukuna’s smug grin so fast you only hoped your gaze was sharp enough to cut,  “Can I please speak to you privately?” 
And Sukuna gets up from the edge of the table he leaned against, flashing you a wry grin, “see you out there, sweetheart,” and you wished you could rip out his heart and show him how very sweet you were — but you bite your tongue, waiting for the door to swing shut, “I—“ 
���Do you know part of the reason we choose you over the other actor vying for your role?” The director cuts you off, arms crossed over his chest, and you shut your mouth, shaking your head, “Jujutsu Kaisen has done tremendously this season — one of the most viewed shows across the world and do you know part of the reason?” and again you shake your head, “your P.R. stunts with Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto,” 
You knit your brow together — not your talent, your work, or art — but your boyfriends? “Your ability to have chemistry with the both of them have enticed the public and the number of times you’ve trended alone this season—“ 
Your fingers curl into fists, “With all due respect—“ 
“If you do this, the film will be a hit — i see you two already, there’s chemistry—“ 
You scoff, “more like a fucking bomb,” you mutter, running your fingers through your hair, “bottom line, do I have a choice?” 
“You do,” he says, arms crossed, “but so do I,” fuck, you grit your teeth. 
You emerge from the office, Sukuna waiting right outside, leaning against the wall right beside the doors,  “you fucking make this difficult—“ 
“And you’ll do what, brat?” his face twists with his frown, as he leans over, lumbering over you, “what do you think you could do to me?” And he’s clicking his tongue, the condescension rolling off of it, “director told us to play nice, so be nice,” his lips curl, “but I like you mean too,” 
He stalks off and you’re scrubbing a hand down your face. You were so fucking screwed. 
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“You what?” Satoru’s mouth gaped at you, twisted in pure disgust, while Suguru only stared at you, as expressionless as Satoru was expressive, “and you agreed?” 
“She didn’t have a choice, Satoru—“ 
“That’s because the bastard didn’t give her a choice,” Satoru’s face twists again, this time in anger, brow furrowed, but lips in a sharp smile, “so why don’t we not give him a choice either?” Satoru is pulling his phone out. 
“What are you doing—don’t—“ 
“One call, and I’ll have this guy firing Sukuna—“ 
“And there goes any actors or directors who will want to work for me if these guys go off, and you know they will,” you shake your head, “I’ve run this — it’s either I do the movie or I don’t,” 
Suguru frowns, hands in his pockets, “What do you want to do?” 
Your face in your hands, “I don’t want to drop the movie because of this, I can’t—“ 
“Then you do it,” Satoru rubs the back of his head, and Suguru tilts his head at him, “and after you become the biggest star out there, I’ll take care of that director and Sukuna,” 
You and Suguru both snort, “Well that was verging on heartfelt,” Suguru shakes his head, “but he’s right, you can’t let two bullies kick you off your movie, you earned this role — and when you act circles around everyone else, you’ll have carried it too,” 
You wrap your arms around both of them, “How’d I get so lucky?” You murmur, and Satoru’s nose brushes against yours before meeting your lips, while Suguru kisses wet kisses against your neck, “encouragement and threats of violence,” and Satoru only grins, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your lips. 
“Anytime, sweetheart,” and Suguru rolls his eyes, before his arm slips around your waist. 
“And he really means anytime, last time you talked to Toji, he pouted for two hours,” Satoru glared at Suguru, while you laughed, pulling the snowy haired actor close. 
“It’s so cute when you’re jealous, Toru,” you kiss his chin, eyes sliding to Suguru, “but you’re terrifying,” 
“What are you talking about?” And Satoru chuckles, tilting his head. 
“You mentioned me during Toji? You nearly yanked our princess away from him,” and Suguru furrows his brow, lips a thin line, “maybe we should drop by during rehearsals,” 
You scoff, “Yeah that sounds like a terrible idea,” and Suguru’s arms are wrapping around you, “Sugu—“ 
“If we can’t spend as much time together, then we better make this time count, isn’t that right, Satoru?” 
“You’re right,” and Satoru’s hands slide under your baggy t-shirt, “better use all the time we have,” and as they lead you to the bedroom, your limbs entangled, you knew you weren’t sleeping that night. 
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But you didn’t know that would be the last time you’d be sleeping with them at all for the next month. 
“You have to cut down the time you spend with anyone else — especially other men,” your agent told you, “that goes for Gojo and Geto too,” 
“Why is this role controlling everything in my real life too?” you mutter under your breath, “why does it matter we won’t get caught—“ 
“Like all the other times you didn’t get caught?” and your words leave you abandoned as no articulate response comes to mind, “it’s for a couple months. You can have them visit on set, you can still see them once a month, but not every day,” 
“But why—“ 
“Once a month reduces your chance of being seen with them exponentially over the next few months. Just deal with it. After this, you won’t have to put up with bullshit,” she hangs up, as you stare at your phone screen, squeezing it at the sight of Satoru and Suguru’s good luck texts — and why did it feel like you still always would have to keep putting up with bullshit? 
“Better not fucking cry. We have to pretend to fall in love in ten minutes — I would rather not be looking at something ugly this early,” Sukuna cuts into your thoughts, hands in his pockets, as he sips his coffee. 
Exhibit A. 
“We’re not shooting for an hour,” you were on set after getting ready, waiting for the weather to clear up for the shoot, and he gives a gruff chuckle
“Not that shoot.” 
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“Looks like Sukuna not only has taken over Itadori’s body, but also the heart of one of Jujutsu Kaisen’s fan favorites,” you groan, earbud slipping out for a moment, just like your life was slipping, “the actress and co-star were spotted getting cozy off set before shooting had even begun for the day,” 
Oh what the fuck. 
You toss your phone away before falling back in bed, far too empty without Satoru and Suguru, only their pillows to keep you company as you twisted in the sheets. You had passed off your social media to your agent to handle — it was bad enough when you were caught in a love triangle with Satoru and Suguru, but now Sukuna? You can only imagine what people would say about you. 
And you didn’t need to see it to do that. 
But that wasn’t important. It was your day off, you turned over in bed, burying your face against your boyfriends pillows — nothing a nap couldn’t fix. 
Knock. Knock. Knock. 
Or maybe not. You slide from the arms of sleep reluctantly, already missing the warmth of the covers as the cold air hits your skin. You’re rubbing your eyes as you check who it is before opening it. 
“Satoru? What are you—“ and his arms are around you in a moment, your breath catching, “Toru—“ 
“You see what they’re saying online?” His gaze is stoic, lips a thin line. 
“We can’t—“ and he’s shutting the door before locking it, before he’s had you pressed against the wood, the grain dragging against your skin. 
“They said you two make the perfect couple,” he cups your chin, his breath warming your lips, “even more than me or Suguru—“ his hand slides against the swell of your hip, “a walk, a coffee? Was that all?” 
Your brow knits together “Of course, you know I would never—“ and his lips ghost over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nosing at the soft skin of your neck, “Toru—“ you bite your bottom lip. 
“I know you wouldn’t, sweetheart, I know,” he says softly, “but I have to make sure he knows that,” his teeth grazes over your soft skin, “knows that you’re mine,” and his teeth digs into your soft flesh, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips, pain melting into pleasure, as your head lolls back against the door. 
“Toru, no I have rehearsals in a week,” you whine, but that just makes him soothe the blooming love bite with his tongue, “Toru—“ 
“Do you really want me to stop now, sweetheart?” he’s pulling your mouth open with his thumb, “your face says you don’t,” and his large palm slides down your body and into your shorts, the wet squelch and the brush of his fingers through the drenched fabric, “and your pretty cunt seems to agree,” 
“Toru,” you’re biting your lip, “fuck, you’re impossible,” and his mouth travels lower, as his other hand slides up under your shirt, squeezing your chest. 
“You’re the one who slept without anything under your clothes,” he murmurs in your ear, lips sliding against your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin there, “you’re so wet already, hear that? Did you touch yourself thinking of us? Want us to fuck you that bad after a week?” his lips ghost over your jaw. 
“Fuck, you talk so much,” you’re pouting, thighs pressing together, but he’s pushing them apart, “why are you teasing me so much?” 
And he pauses, ocean blues stormy instead of the tranquil skies you’re used to, “Sukuna touched you. He got to hold you,” he’s pouting now, “that privilege is for us, and he got to so easily,” 
“I didn’t want him to,” and he’s nuzzling your neck. 
“Let me erase his touch,” and he’s lifting you with the practiced ease he always had. 
“Where’s Suguru—“ and you yelp as he playfully tosses you on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head with one hand, a grin as he watches you bounce. 
“He’ll be here later,” and he’s kissing up your body, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts to pull them down, half lidded eyes with deep lust finding yours, “for now, you’re all mine.” 
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“I-I can’t,” you’re whimpering, your hands clutching at Satoru’s back, fingernails digging crescents into his perfect skin, only hoping he doesn’t have a shirtless shoot tomorrow, but you barely can register that with three of his fingers in your pussy, “Toru,” 
How many times had you orgasmed? Six or seven at least — it was nearly second nature at this point. Satoru knew what spots to touch, where to press, how to move to have you writhing underneath him in a moment. He’s knuckle deep, spreading your walls as his thumb toys with your clit, drawing another moan from your lips. Your release soaked his fingers and sheets underneath, his fingers surely wrinkled from their time spent inside your walls. 
And by his smirk against the swell of your breast, he knew it. 
“Yes you can baby, I know you have one more f’me,” and you’re already so close, but you have been — it’s been a repeated coil winding and snapping over and over, and you’re nearly to tears, back arching as he plunges his fingers somehow deeper, “know this pretty pussy too well, look at the way you’re sucking me in,” your insides flutter around his digits again, the tips dragging against your walls, “practically begging me to fuck you more, sweetheart,” 
“I’ll say,” and your eyes barely can flit up to meet Suguru’s wry smile, corners of his lips curled, “I see you’re as impatient as ever, Satoru — started without me,” and he’s tugging his shirt over his head, “but at least you’ve gotten her ready for me,” 
“Sugu—“ and Satoru adds a fourth finger, stuffed full with him, drawing a gasp from your lips. 
“Don’t want you to say Suguru’s name when I’m the one pleasuring you,” Sstoru clicks his tongue, “wanna hear you moan my name, sweetheart, when I make you cum,” 
“You’ll have plenty of chances to moan my name,” you make a whining noise in the back of your throat, pleasure felt as if it had burned out your nerves, but it still was able to overload them, the throbbing in your cunt a telltale sign, “you g’nna cum, pretty? Use your words for me?” 
“G’nna cum—ngh, Toru,” you feel that familiar knot in the pit of your stomach, your walls wring his fingers as you cum, hard, your head thrown back against the pillow. And the squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, as he finger fucks you through your orgasm. 
“Fuck, she’s so pretty everytime she falls apart for us,” Suguru groans, as Satoru leans over to kiss you, “so good for us, Princess,” you only moan in reply, lost in the pleasure that still floods your body, as Satoru pulls his fingers from you. 
And your eyes catch a glimpse of Satoru licking his fingers clean, one by one, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve ever had,” 
“Don’t hog her, Satoru,” Suguru is pulling Satoru away, settling between your thighs, “you both made such a mess,” and you gasp, as his lithe fingers brush against your still too sensitive folds, spreading them only for your juices to slip out, “I’m always stuck cleaning up, but in this case,” he drags the flat of his tongue up your needy cunt, a moan falling from your lips, as your fingers fisted in his black locks, “I don’t mind at all.” 
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But that night wasn’t the end of it — no, not by far. 
It wasn’t enough for them to ravish you, now they have to show up on set — their schedules lining up just perfect to see your rehearsals (though you think their schedules had some help from using the words “contagious” and “sickly”). However the only thing they were seemingly sick with was jealousy — especially so as you sat with Sukuna, going over lines for the next scene. 
You rubbed at your neck, feeling lucky that the marks they left had faded, but they still had begged you to show up to the shoot. 
“We won’t make you uncomfortable,” Satoru pouted, nuzzling your side, as you snort. 
“Just like you said you wouldn’t leave hickies on me?” You scoff, and suguru buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses along the marks Satoru left. 
“She has a point,” Suguru murmurs, but Satoru only pouts, “but I would like to be on set so that freak doesn’t try anything,” and you run your fingers through Satoru’s snowy locks, while leaning into Suguru’s touch, “he has a reputation of making moves on all his co-stars,” 
“So? It’s not like I’ll let him,” and Satoru’s gotten you pinned to the bed, your hands trying to break free but you can’t. 
“It’s not a matter of letting him, it’s matter of him trying to do something you don’t want,” and your brows knit together, as Satoru presses a soft kiss to your forehead. 
“There’ll be other people—“ 
“Other people who may very well look the other way, for someone like Ryomen Sukuna,” Suguru sighs, words almost whispered against your ear,  “you know that’s how this business can be,” and it was — it could be. The Jujutsu Kaisen set was a rare exception, but this movie — the director’s words still ringing in your ears — it was different. 
“Let us just make sure you’re safe, make sure you’re okay, and then we’ll go.” 
And that’s how you ended up with their states boring into the back of your head. 
“You bringing a pair of guard dogs with you everywhere now?” Sukuna spares a glance at your boyfriends, who were relegated to stand near your trailer — Satoru stood, arms crossed over his white t-shirt, a black jacket thrown over it, his blue eyes narrowed in frustration, as if his crossed arms were the only things holding him back from throttling Sukuna. While Suguru leaned against your trailer, scrolling on his phone in his dark navy button up, stealing glances at the two of you, his eyes narrowed and lips a thin line, “don’t know if they are ready to rip you apart or me,” 
You bite your tongue, wanting to say they had already ripped you apart last night, but you only shook your head, “They insisted on coming today, I don’t know why,” 
He grunts in reply, “It’s bad timing on your end, brat,” and your eyes snap to his, and he tilts his head, leaning against his hand, “you didn’t hear? The director wants us to film our big kiss at the end of the movie,”
Your blood runs cold, “Since when?” 
“Since you were late to our morning meeting, assuredly because of those two,” he jerks his head in the direction of Satoru and Suguru, before giving them both a wide grin, “they don’t know do they?” Your silence is all the answer Sukuna needs to give a rare laugh, “oh this will be entertaining, brat, and I thought acting with you would be boring.” 
Oh, you’re fucking screwed. 
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“Cut!” The director called for the billionth time, and you were about ready to wring his neck, and you were not the only one — if looks could kill, Satoru and Suguru would have had the director skewered a million times over by now. Unfortunately for them, looks did not kill, “we need more passion,” 
And you’re biting back a groan, as Sukuna smirks, leaning over to whisper, “don’t look so disappointed, I see the two idiots haven’t taught you to kiss,” 
“More like the partner I have doesn’t make kissing him appealing,” you bite back, running a hand through your hair as you spoke to the intimacy coordinator again, but your eyes keep sliding over to Satoru and Suguru, “fuck,” how were you supposed to do this with them staring you down? 
“Let’s try it again,” you both get in place for the shot, the clap of the clapperboard, as Sukuna’s fingers brushed against your cheek again. You stepped into the role, letting yourself be consumed with the passion of your character, channeling what you felt for your own loves. 
And finally your lips met his — you felt nothing, only the pressure of lips meeting one another, but you tried to show emotion, fingers clutching at his shirt in desperation, the small gasps and sighs parting your lips between kisses, and the way your hand then slid up to rest at the nape of his neck. 
“I love you, more than anything,” you murmur against his lips, nose brushing against his, “more than anyone. You can’t go. Not without me,” 
“What choice do I have?” Sukuna mutters back, his arm coiling around your waist, “it’s too dangerous for you to come along,” 
“Who said you get to make my decisions for me?” your lips curl, “and who says I can’t buy my own ticket to come with you?” And he’s shaking his head, “listen,” your fingers cup his cheek, “don’t think, just let it happen,” and you’re leaning even closer, breath warming his lips, his breath hitching. 
“Cut!” And you’re trying to pull away, but Sukuna holds you there, leaning forward, making you flinch, only to whisper in your ear. 
“Sorry, just wanted to give them more of a show,” and he lets go, lips curled in a wide grin, “looks like we have a break now, so have fun, but not too much,” he laughs, as the director beckons him over. 
You glance at Satoru and Suguru — oh fuck. 
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“Sugu—uumph—“ Suguru barely let you get a step inside the trailer before he pinned you to the metal door, his hands dragged over your sides.
“Hold still, Princess, I have to overwrite every place he touched you,” his fingers trace over your cheeks, lips grazing your jaw, his thumb dragged over your lips, before catching on your tongue, “did you brush your tongue against his — run it over the seam of his lips before slipping it inside? Flick it over like you do? Did you enjoy kissing him, sweetheart?”
“Of course I didn’t—“ and Satoru’s taking the opportunity to kiss you, teeth dragging over your bottom lip. 
“Course she didn’t, but I’m sure he did,” Satoru’s fingers traced over your jaw, “enjoyed our sweets’ even sweeter lips, didn’t he?” And Satoru kisses down your jaw, while Suguru is sinking down to his knees, large palms sliding up and hiking up your dress, “should leave some marks to remind him who you belong to,” his teeth dig into the soft of your flesh. 
“Toru! No, I still have to finish the shoot — the makeup artists—“ you whine, but god, it feels so good, as his tongue flicks against his teeth marks, “fuck,” 
“Be careful, someone will hear you, Princess,” Suguru murmurs, soft kisses to your inner thighs, “hear how good you’ll feel,” his teeth sink into your thigh, nipping and sucking, “and how good we’re both making you feel,” 
“Sugu, ah, I—fuck,” and Satoru is eagerly swallowing your moans with his lips, taking the chance to slip his tongue in, while Suguru noses at the soft of your thigh. 
“She’s already dripping, how are you so pretty here, Princess?” And he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, not that you could with Satoru’s tongue down your throat, as his lips press a kiss to your messy folds, nose bumping against your puffy clit, “tastes even better,” he moans, sound reverberating against your sensitive cunt. 
“Oh that won’t do at all, we’ve barely started,” Satoru tsks all the while tugging your sleeves down to reveal your bare chest underneath the dress barely on your body at this point, crumpled fabric pushed up and down into the middle by them, “no bra, Princess? For us or for the camera?” 
“For you,” you manage between moans, Suguru’s tongue tracing teasing circles around your clit, “always for you—“ the word trails off into a moan, as Suguru meanly sucks on the sensitive nub, “ngh, fuck—“ your knees are buckling, quaking as if your bones were made of rubber, a gasp pulled from your lips, when Satoru’s lips press a teasing kiss to your already erect nipple, while he toys with the other between his forefinger and thumb, pinching and pulling. And he switches, welcoming the other with a graze of his teeth and the flick of his tongue. 
The sounds of the lewd squelch of Suguru’s mouth against your dripping cunt filled your ears, volts from his touch reaching every inch of you, “so wet f’me, pretty, you like thinking someone could hear us fucking you?” Suguru mutters, his lips pulling away for a moment, as his long fingers spread your folds for him — every inch of you exposed, “fuck, you’ve dripped all over the floor of the trailer, Princess,” 
“All that just from Suguru’s mouth?” Satoru smirks, dragging a finger down your puffy lips, while his other hand gropes at your breast, “imagine how sopping you’ll be when we fuck you,” 
And you’re whining, as Suguru teases your entrance with a finger, “You fuckers—“ you yelp as Suguru picks you up with ease and tosses you into the nearby bed — a request you had made so you could nap between scenes or during times you weren’t needed on set — not that you had gotten to use it, until now. 
Satoru’s pulling the dress up and over your head, tossing the garment away, both of their gazes dragging over your exposed skin. Satoru flips you onto your stomach, and you hear the creak of the bed behind you and you know Suguru repositioned himself between your thighs. 
“On your knees, pretty,” Suguru’s hands are lifting your legs, his fingers already teasing your sopping hole again, and he’s bracing an arm around your thighs, “such a good girl,” and his fingertips breach you only to pull away, even as your walls try to beckon him inside. 
“Fuck,” you’re groaning, needy cunt begging for release, you needed it, needed it so bad. 
“Such a filthy mouth,” Satoru clicks his tongue, as he undoes the buckle of his belt, tugging his boxers and pants down to free his weeping erection. And god, his cock is so pretty — long and pink, with beads of pearly precum dripping from the slit, lovely veins running up and down his length, “how ‘bout I put it to use sweetheart?” 
And the tip brushes against your face, smearing against your lips, before you part your lips and let his dick slap against your tongue, before letting it part your pretty lips. The tip of your tongue traces his slit, tasting his pre, as you sucked and licked along his length, until his sweet grunts slipped from his lips. And fuck, you know he would feel so good inside you, long cock reaching the places he always did and that you never could. 
But it was hard for you to stay focused when Suguru bas two thick fingers buried in your right cunt, dragging against your walls, moaning around Satoru’s length. And it feels almost too good, as if you’d melt between them, burning from their touches. And you’d still always ask for more. 
Satoru’s fingers dig into your locks, as he moans, “Fuck, s’good for me, baby,” his hips buck against your mouth, his hair sticking to his forehead, sticky with sweat, “not gonna last much longer, Suguru,” 
And Suguru pulled out his fingers, licking them clean, his face still sticky with your cum, as you whine at the absence, “she’s not either, but I think she needs something more,” and you feel his cockhead drag against your folds, and you’re whining, “not gonna put it inside baby, too much of a mess, and can’t do too much, can we?” And you feel his lips curl in a smirk, “after all, your boyfriend out there might mind,” he’s pressing your thighs together, beginning to rock forward, sending you deeper onto Satoru’s cock, making him hiss. 
“Fuck, take it, sweetheart,” his fingers tilting your head up slightly to find your eyes glazed over in pleasure, puffy lips with saliva and precum dripping from the corners, and it only makes him want to fuck your throat, “gonna go back on set like this? All messy from your ‘side pieces?’” 
“Fuck, she twitched hard when you said that,” Suguru is fucking between your thighs, his hard cock rubbing against your dripping slit again and again, delicious friction sending you closer and closer, “fuck, g’nna cum for me sweet girl?” 
And you’re moaning around Satoru, and his tip brushes against your throat with one particularly hard thrust from Suguru, and that’s it. 
Satoru’s moaning your name, unable to hold back, as he cums in your mouth, his hot load pouring down your throat, dick twitching as it continues to spurt as he rocks his hips into you. Suguru pinches and rubs your clit hard, rocking his leaking cock into you, and you cum, walls fluttering around nothing, as you soak him in your release. 
The moans of their names on your lips send Suguru tumbling over too, as he pulls back and pumps, before cumming all over your back with his thick seed. 
You’re pulling yourself off Satoru, with a wet pop, cum and spit trickling down your lips, as your tongue flicks out to clean it off. And Satoru groans, as he lays down and settles beside you, “don’t make me fuck you right here,” 
And Suguru helps you turn on your side, legs still shaking from your orgasm, as he slips up behind you, his softening cock pressed against you, pressing sweet kisses to your sweat soaked skin. 
“Think anyone heard us?” you mumble, burying your face in the crook of Satoru’s neck, and their chuckles rumble against you, making you shiver. 
Suguru answers, “No, if someone did, they would have come—“ 
There’s a harsh knock on the door, followed by the call of your name, “The director’s calling you to set,” it was your agent’s voice, “so I suggest all three of you clean up and come out.” 
Well, fuck. 
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“How has shooting the film been so far?” 
“It’s been wonderful. It’s so different from filming a television series, and I’ve loved learning the nuances of film and how it’s made,” you say, sitting in the worlds most uncomfortable chair behind Sukuna, who managed to look interestedly disinterested. 
“Speaking of which, you two have worked together before, right?” 
“We have,” Sukuna replies before you have a chance to answer, “the two of us haven’t had many scenes together before, so being able to finally act together is…fate,” 
You force yourself to give a wry smile, “I forget he’s such a romantic, when he isn’t too busy calling me a brat,” the words slip out and you’re instantly regretting your words — fuck, fuck, fuck. You really just said Ryomen Sukuna called you brat — in an interview that will air on TV but also live on the internet. 
“A brat huh?” The interviewer chuckled awkwardly, “is she a bit of a diva on set?” 
“Oh and off,” Sukuna’s grin grows all the more wide, leaning against his hand and stealing a glance at you, “but I know how to tame her,” and you self consciously tug at your high neck sweater, the bites Satoru and Suguru well concealed — and you’d never have him pass it off as his own. 
Oh, you would kill him. If not for the fact that you had dug your own grave, and he only did you the favor of pushing you in and burying you. No the only funeral was your own. 
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“How bad?” You ask your agent on the way home, earbuds in your ear as you sit in the back of the car, partition up as the driver makes their way to your home. 
“How bad? You mean how great! We’re getting so much traffic on that interview. People keep talking about you and Sukuna. You’re trending again,” and that was the last thing you wanted to hear and the first thing she wanted to tell you. 
Why the fuck did you want to be an actor again? 
“What are they saying about me?” 
“There’s some negative stuff about both of you, but that’s expected — mostly people surprisingly, uh, like you better with Sukuna than Gojo or Geto—“ 
“What? Why?” God, fuck the public’s want for an older man. 
“I don’t know. You guys have this chemistry in interviews. The way you guys banter it feels so personal and electric I guess?” Her voice almost makes it sounds like she agreed.
“Are you saying that or the fans?” The only thing electric about your conversation with Sukuna was the feeling of rage running through your veins faster than a million volts. 
“I don’t know. I’m sure it’s mostly fangirls of Gojo and Geto who are relieved they aren’t taken,” she adds, your silence seemingly scaring her, “you should look on the bright side, people are really excited for the movie, and after what happened in your trailer…the director’s happy too,” you see a text from Satoru and Suguru. 
The Boys 💕🤍🖤
Bangs Baby: when are you coming home? 
Six Eyed Dork: we’re already making dinner. 
And you scrub a hand down your face, never having such irritation over the prospect of dinner, “Tell that to my makeup artist,” because you know you’ll be littered with marks by the end of this. 
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“We’re adding a sex scene,” and you nearly spit out your drink that morning, sitting at the round table with the director, several staff members, and an extremely unfazed Sukuna. 
“What?” you say, trying hold your tongue, that was only writhing under your hold to say something much, much worse, “that’s not anywhere in the script or the source material,” 
“It was my suggestion,” Sukuna lifts his hand casually, before pressing his hand to his chin, painted black nails gleaming in the dim light of the early morning, “the characters felt lacking,” 
Then play your role better. That’s what you wanted to say. But instead you ask, “how so?” 
And Sukuna glances at the director, who clears his throat, eyes shifting from him to you, “We thought it would be better to build more intimacy between the characters. Add a certain level of—“ 
“Raunchiness?” you scoff. 
“Tasteful raunchiness,” Sukuna corrects, doing nothing to suppress his smirk, “if you don’t want to, I’m sure we can make due with the stunt double—“ 
Fucker. He could have his pick of any movie — he was a pillar of the industry, but you had to be stuck with him. And stuck with the director following his every, irritating whim. 
You grit your teeth, “when are we shooting it?” And Sukuna grins wider, leaning back in his chair. 
“About that—“ 
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“You’re going where?” You resisted the urge to rub at your temples, as you pack your things, Satoru’s pout filling the majority of the screen. 
“You heard me. We’re filming in Canada,” with a flight that left the next day, you barely had time to pack, much less talk. Fuck, you don’t have a thing for the cold, but you were told that coats and thermals would be provided — or at least they better be, “I’ll be gone for a couple weeks,” you say, wondering if the sounds of you packing would be enough to drown out or enough sweaters would somehow soften the blow. 
“Weeks?” Suguru repeats, taking the phone from Satoru, “sweetheart, you had said filming would be over soon enough — you said a month of filming in Japan—,” and you sigh, it seems like you had been doing a lot of that lately. 
The throbbing in your head only got worse — the long shoots and lack of sleep weighing on your body like iron weights around your neck, “I know, love, but the director wanted to add more scenes,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “there’s one more thing,” and Satoru is pushing into view of the camera as well, a click of Suguru’s as he shoots a glare at him, “the director decided to add…an intimate scene to the film,” 
Silence, but Suguru speaks first, “And that wasn’t in the script before?” And you shake your head. 
Satoru gives a bitter laugh, “Such bullshit. They planned it and got you to invest yourself in the movie—“ he cuts himself off, “sweetheart, I want to have a word with the director,”
“No, Toru, it won’t help,” you run your fingers through your hair, trying to keep your tone level, “it just won’t. It will just make me look like I have to rely on my boyfriends for protection,” 
“It still isn’t right, what they are doing to you is exploitative,” Suguru cuts in, “adding a sex scene last minute after you already spent weeks filming—“ 
“You don’t think I know that?” you say quietly, “what am I supposed to do? Quit? Let you guys run to the director to protect me? Great, either way, my career would be over,” the words slip out far more cutting than you want, but this has been a knife you’ve honed against stones thrown at you, and you were tired of being the one to take the blows. 
Satoru furrows his brow, “What are we supposed to do? Watch you get taken advantage of?”
“No, but don’t talk down to me like I don’t understand what’s happening,” you snap, “these weeks I’ve had to deal with fucking Sukuna and these shoots, while balancing your feelings too and I’m tired of it. I’m just done,” you shake your head, willing your voice not to break, “I’ll text you both when I board and land, ok?”
“Sweetheart—“ 
“Baby—“ 
“Bye,” and you hang up, eyes burning not just from your lack of sleep but now everything else too. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t see them. You couldn’t quit the movie. You couldn’t fix this. You couldn’t do anything — you glanced at your suitcase — except keep going. 
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“You look like hell,” you don’t bother looking at Sukuna when he speaks, and out of all the seats, how did you end up next to him? Either you had the absolute worst luck in the world — or bad luck had a little help from your agents and the director. 
“You look like you’d know—been to your kingdom lately?” you’re placing your suitcase away when a flight attendant rushes over to do it for you, and you thank them, before rifling through your bag for your headphones. Noise canceling headphones that were going to be your best friend as long as you were stuck with him. 
“Why visit a kingdom when my queen is here?” Your eye twitches, and you only wish that planes worked the same as ships when it came to jurisdiction. And if so, you would have tossed him into the high seas without a second though. You could start over — no extradition on Satoru’s island. 
You glanced at your phone — no reply to your text about getting on the second flight. And they had both barely responded to your other texts about boarding and landing. Maybe it was your fault. You had blown up at them, and ignored all their calls and texts all day, until they finally stopped (even Satoru had given up sending you selfies of him crying). You switched it into airplane mode and locked it, tucking it away into your bag, before taking your seat and buckling your seatbelt. 
“Trouble in paradise?” And you scowl, pulling out your headphones, “c’mon you can tell me about your other boyfriends — I know I’m your favorite,” 
“Do you ever shut up?” You put your headphones on, your eyes growing heavy as the plane begins to prepare for take off. You choose a playlist, and start to fall asleep. The only good thing about this flight was you could finally get some sleep. 
And maybe your life wouldn’t be hell when you woke up. 
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“I already got us a private jet,” Satoru walks into Suguru’s place, suitcase in hand, as he tugs his mask off, “we can be in Canada by tomorrow—we just need to pack—“ 
“What are you talking about?” Suguru looks up from his phone, “have you even thought this through, dumbass? She barely wants us coming over because of paparazzi, you think if someone sees us in Canada with her that they will write it off as a coincidence?” 
“If we’re careful, it won’t come to that,” he sets down his things, “you heard her, Suguru, she said she’s done,” 
“She’s just tired and frustrated,” Suguru sighs, tossing his phone aside, “we haven’t exactly made this any easier on her either,” 
“I know, which is why we should go make it up to her,” Satoru sighed, “I can tell by her texts that she’s upset — it’s all periods and short one word responses. Y’know that’s bad,” he’s pulling out his phone to show Suguru your texts — and Suguru ignored the several sad selfies Satoru had sent, before handing it back. 
“And we should make her more upset by doing the one thing she told us not to do?” Suguru shakes his head, “we’re better off waiting for her to calm down and come to us—“ and Satoru stares at his phone, “what is it? Did she text?” 
“No, worse,” he shows Suguru a news article — ARE THINGS HEATING UP ON AND OFF SET? SUKUNA SPOTTED WITH HIS COSTAR GETTING COZY ON PLANES AND IN THE AIRPORT.  
And below were images of you and him asleep, fingers interlaced on the plane, and a picture of him with his arm around your waist walking through the airport. 
Suguru’s eyes narrow, “Do you want risk losing her, Suguru?” And he knows it’s a bad idea, he knows it may only make things worse, but — he looks at the pictures of you and Sukuna again — losing you would be far worse. 
“When’s the flight?” 
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CLICK! 
You stir at the sound, as you hear it again and again, shifting in your sleep. Fuck, what was that noise? Everything’s heavy, thoughts swimming through thick syrup as it tries to break to the surface and into consciousness. Another click makes you grasp at your headphones with one hand, the other caught on something, but you feel nothing but your neck and shirt. And finally, your eyes fly open just to find a camera lens in front of your face, and something holding your hand. 
Or rather someone. 
“What the—“ 
“Finally woke up? How was your coma?” and the photographers are shooed away, as you pull your fingers free only for him to drop your hand, wiping your hand on the seat, “I didn’t do anything but hold it,” he shrugs, “probably—“ 
You scowl, “my headphones?” He holds them up, and you gape at him, “they fell off. You’re quite the restless sleeper,” and you snatch them back. 
“They fell off or you took them off for that photo op,” you snap, glancing at him, “since when did I give my permission to be photographed while sleeping?” 
“When you decided to go into this business,” he replies drily, dry as his skin was from holding his hand, “are you that naive? Can anyone keep anything from anyone without paying them off one way or another? I’m pretty sure that’s how your little throuple does it,” 
And you couldn’t deny it — the paparazzi more than ever was a toll or a tool — a toll to pay when you wanted word to stay quiet, and a tool when you wanted things to blow up. And Satoru had been paying them off since the three of you had started this — insisting that his connection gave him discounts, but it was more likely to blow his father’s money. 
“So what was that photo op about?” The plane is slowly descending now, your ears popping, as you spare a glance outside, and he only scoffs, as if to ask if you were that stupid? 
“To announce our arrival.” 
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“Why are there so many security guards and people?” you mutter, tugging at your mask, as you hurry through the airport with what felt like a military and police escort of men around you. 
“To create a scene, generate interest,” Sukuna seemed uninterested as he strolled along the airport, raising an eyebrow, “not used to this? The adoring fans,” and you spare a glance at the crowds, taking pictures more than even looking at your actual faces. 
“This is adoring?” and then the security guards begin to stumble as the crowd grows a rowdy, as people push through to get through their gates, others try to duck between the security guards to get closer. A security guard knocks against you, nearly sending you tumbling,  “what—“ 
And a wrist grabs you and pulls you hard, as the security guard tumbles to the ground, another arm around your waist. He steadies you, as you sigh, glancing to find Sukuna. 
“Be careful,” you blink — wow was he actually a nice— and then he nearly shoved you away, “don’t need you getting injured and messing up my movie,” he strides off, and you watch dumbstruck, as you watch his back recede until bodyguards check on you and urge you along. 
You can’t believe you thought even for a second that Ryomen Sukuna was nice. 
And now you had to spend the entirety of tomorrow kissing up to him — literally. 
Fucking ass. 
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“You can’t seduce me into letting you go,” Sukuna smiled, one hand on your hip and the other resting against the wall, pinning you against the headboard of the bed, “just because I let you win tonight—“ 
“Then I’ve won the battle,” you reply, fingers toying with a lock of his hair, twirling it around your finger, before dragging a finger down his cheek, “it’s only a matter of time until I win the war,” 
He chuckles, hand cupping your chin, “such a brat, how did I ever fall for you?” And you only lean close, brushing your lips against his chin, delighting in the way his body shivered, “fuck—“ 
“You love it,” and he’s gotten you pinned to the bed in a moment with one hand, the other large palm sliding up your body, dragging your shirt along with it— 
“CUT!” 
You both sigh, glancing at the director as you both untangle yourselves — how many times did that make? Twelve? Fourteen? 
“I think we’ll be dead before he gets it right,” Sukuna mutters under his breath, as a P.A. brings him a towel to dab at his skin. 
“We’re calling it for the day,” the director announced, hair askew from the number of times he had pulled at it, “we’ll resume tomorrow, first thing,” there was almost an audible groan from the crew as everyone packed up for the day. 
After all that, you’re making your way to your hotel room when someone stops you, you’re trying to brush past them absentmindedly, but his voice stops you dead in your tracks. 
“Can’t run from us that easy, sweetheart,” and your head snaps up, finding Satoru in front of you, and you’re speechless, no words finding their way to your lips, before the hotel room next to yours opens up. 
“Princess, in here, before anyone sees,” and Satoru’s hand tries to find yours, but you ignore it, walking into the room, not speaking until the door clicks behind Satoru. 
“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” and you waver when you see Satoru’s sad gaze and Suguru’s tight frown, and you sigh, evening out your tone, “sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped — what are you guys doing here? I told you it’s risky—“ 
“We didn’t want to leave things the way they were, I couldn’t. Not like that,” Satoru shakes his head, “we needed to see you, baby, I couldn’t—“ he breaks off. 
Suguru speaks in his stead, “We couldn’t fathom that was the last time we spoke,” 
Your brows knit together, “Why would you think—“ and you’re sighing, scrubbing a hand down your face as your words ring in your own ears, and you know where their minds had went — fuck, “I would never ever break up with you two,” you’re stepping forward, “you’re idiots, but you’re mine,” and their arms are slipping around you in an instant, “I just got frustrated with everything, it wasn’t just you guys — the movie, Sukuna, long shoots, lack of sleep, and not seeing you two—“ 
“We should be the ones who’re sorry,” Satoru mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “we made it all about us and didn’t see that you needed us,” 
“We’re never going to make that mistake again, Princess,” Suguru presses a soft kiss to your neck, and you sigh, stress melting under touch with the ease of a lit candle wick melts wax, “we’re sorry for being so selfish,” 
“Yeah, Suguru’s sorry—“ and that earns Satoru a sharp elbow from said actor, “and I’m sorry too. We didn’t mean to add more stress. You’re already dealing with so much. We should have been there for you, sweetheart,” he finds your lips in a sweet kiss that has you sighing, “we trust you — it’s just—“
“Him, I know, but I hate him,” you say, and Suguru chuckles, fingers turning your head towards him, pressing his forehead agaisnt yours, “seriously, everything we’ve done is just for the movie or for publicity,” Suguru kisses you, teeth teasingly running along his bottom lip. 
“You seemed pretty cozy with him in those pictures,” Satoru presses open mouthed kisses along your neck, and you blink. 
“What pictures?” and then it occurs to you, “on the plane? They framed those—“ and Satoru’s cutting you off with another kiss, “Toru—“ and Suguru nuzzles the nape of your neck, “Sugu—“ 
“Just let us take care of you tonight,” Suguru murmurs, lazy fingers drawing circles on your hips, “been too long since we’ve seen you, Princess,” 
In a moment they have you on your back on the bed, Satoru’s eyes gleaming with need, their hands slipping up your body, “I’m yours,” you murmur, “both of yours.” 
And that’s all they needed to hear. 
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“Toru, I’m trying to make us breakfast,” you chuckle, half laughing, half exasperated, as he nearly engulfs you in a hug from behind, his face buried in the crook of your neck. 
“So? I’m not in the way,” Satoru mumbles, sighing as he kisses the skin behind your ear, “right, Suguru?” 
“You’re hindering the process, Toru,” you’re trying to flip pancakes for said boyfriend as he traces constellations of kisses against your shoulder and neck, “right Sugu?” 
“Now, now, play nice you two,” Suguru replies drily, glancing at the two of you from the couch, “can’t blame us for missing you, sweetheart,” 
“Y’know how many months I had to go without being able to cuddle you,” Satoru’s pouting against your skin now, “I have to make up for all that lost time,” 
Shooting had finally ended three months ago — after a month and half spent in Canada, you flew back to Japan. Satoru and Suguru had taken up residence in a hotel room next door (under fake names of course) for about a week before flying back because of work. Satoru had tried to convince you to let him fly back and forth, but for the sake of the environment (and your sanity), you sent them both home. 
And still, they both were acting as if you had been away for several years, not months. 
“Does it have to be now?” And Satoru nods, grinning, and you relent, “well, this is much better than having dinner with Sukuna,” 
“There’s a name we haven’t heard in a while,” Suguru raises an eyebrow, as he strolls into the kitchen, hands in his pockets. 
“Thankfully,” Satoru adds, brow wrinkled, “what does he want?” 
“Just a dinner to celebrate the end of production,” you sigh, as you step past Satoru to grab a plate for the pancakes, “the movie is going to have its premiere in a few months, so it’s also to plan ahead for that,” 
“Did they announce a date yet?” Suguru asks, leaning against the counter on the other side of you, beginning to prepare coffee. 
“Not yet, but it should be sometime this coming summer,” and you’re flipping pancake after pancake for the three of you, a stack forming, until you’re finally done. You catch the two of them shsring a look, until Satoru asks: 
“Can you get us tickets to the premiere?” 
“Of course I’m inviting the entire JJK cast,” you smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to Suguru’s cheek, “why would you two be any different?”
“And what about us two?” Satoru hums, as he shuts off the stove for you, daring less than an inch away from your lips, “Do we get the VIP treatment?”
“Uh-huh,” you bite back a laugh. 
“Does the VIP package include you?” Suguru murmurs, a smirk against your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth, 
“Of course,” you murmur, as Suguru’s arms wrap around your waist, lips brushing against your pulse, “once we’re away from cameras and phones and press,” 
“All access?” Suguru murmurs, large palms slipping under your shirt, making you shiver from their cool touch, and you roll your eyes, as Satoru presses a kiss to your forehead. 
“All access.” 
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“I don’t understand why we had to get ready together,” you grumble, assistants gather around you, one adjusting your gown, another fixing your makeup, and a third trying to tame your hair, “we could have just been picked up and taken to the venue together,” 
The two of you had been ushered into these adjoining hotel rooms bright and early — much too early for you to even be awake, much less have to deal with Sukuna. The only consolation was while you were getting your makeup and clothes on, you didn’t have to see him. 
“Someone might have seen us,” Sukuna replies, letting the assistant put his watch on, “or your throuple would undoubtedly get in the way,” you shoot a glare at him. 
“Can you not call us that? They have names,” and Sukuna scoffs, fingers running over his charcoal suit coat to ensure there wasn’t even a single crease, the cut of his lapels sharp as knives. 
“Like I care to remember them, brat,” and you raise an eyebrow. 
“Do you even know my name?” he bears no reaction, but the corner of his lips twitch, “you don’t even fuc—“ 
“Are we all ready?” Your agent enters the hotel room with the director, “we should start heading to the venue,” and Sukuna brushed past you, and out the door, his entourage following behind him. 
And you sighed, you were surely ready — ready to put this movie and Sukuna far behind you. 
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But of course he wasn’t behind you, so much so that he was beside you. Plastered to your side for the press to eat up, his arm slithered around your waist, as you both made your way down the carpeted premiere. 
You had been to a premiere for both seasons of Jujutsu Kaisen — but never like this. The camera flashes were blinding, the sounds of the crowd deafening, and the walk down the carpet amongst all these others was disorienting. You were almost grateful for Sukuna’s gruff and short temper, he kept most interviews on the carpet from dragging too long, 
You finally make your way inside and Sukuna parts from your side a moment without a word, beckoned off by someone or another. And it feels like too much. The day, the long hours, the carpet — all of it bears down on you at once, and you feel as if someone sucked the air from your lungs, using it to fill this hall with the smallest remnants of oxygen. 
Fuck, you grasped tightly to your clutch, you were going to pass out if you didn’t go somewhere, somewhere else with less goddamn people, but where? 
And you only take a stumbling step forward, before an arm is around your waist again, and a different voice murmurs in the opposite side, “Lost without us, sweetheart?” Suguru’s voice steadies you, keeps you from slipping deeper away from them, while Satoru’s touch grounds you. 
“Let’s get her somewhere private, hm? Does that sound okay, Princess?” And you’re nodding; as the two of them discreetly usher you away, you barely can keep your eyes open, still feeling your breath lodged in your throat, choking on the very thing that was supposed to keep you alive. It doesn’t feel okay until you’re sitting on a bed, holding your head. 
You feel the bed divut in as they both sit on either side of you, and their bodies brush against yours as if to ask for permission; and you’re leaning against their touch, until they engulf you in it. 
And this was what you needed. 
You don’t think about premieres, ruining your makeup, tripping, cameras, or anything else — just both of them and you. 
“Are you okay, baby?” Suguru murmurs softly, and you’re nodding, “did you get overwhelmed?” And you nod again, and he sighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I really wish you could have come with us,” 
“I told ya we should have just taken her with us anyway,” you know Satoru’s face is scrunched up in worry, “the movie’s out anyway,” 
“Not like I didn’t agree — I just told you she would never agree,” Suguru muttered, most assuredly rolling his eyes, “plus, we said we wouldn’t do that to her again,” 
“Can you guys not talk like I’m not here?” and they instantly refocus on you, as you bury your head in the crook of Suguru’s neck, while Satoru does the same to you, pressing butterfly kisses to your skin, as Suguru carefully carded through your locks. And you just sat like that for a while, until you grew calmer by the second and finally lift your head, “sorry,”
“What do you have to be sorry for?” Satoru furrowed his brow, “you didn’t drool all over Suguru’s suit did you?” and you elbow him lightly in the ribs. 
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t mind anyway, I’m used to you drooling on me one way or another,” and now you glare at Suguru, “you’re the one apologizing for no real reason,” 
“There is a reason,” you sigh, shaking your head, “we should be out there enjoying the party, but instead, we’re—” 
“All alone, with the two most important people to us?” Satoru tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “if anything, this was exactly the VIP treatment I was looking for, just us alone, in a room together?” Satoru’s tilting your head if only to press kisses up the side of your neck, nosing your pulse. 
“He’s right, princess, we only came here for you — no one else, we’re so proud of you,” Suguru murmurs, his hand finding its way onto your thigh, “and all we want is to see you happy,” 
Happy? When had been the last time you had been happy in the last few months? It had been far too long since it had been consistent — but the two people that ran consistently through every up, far too little downs? Satoru and Suguru. It had been so hard — and now it was almost over. Only a few more interviews and public appearances, and you would be done with Sukuna.
But you didn’t want to think about Sukuna now — you wanted them. More than ever. 
Your lips find Suguru’s first, lips sliding against his — a hesitation for a millisecond, before he’s melting into it, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before you’re pulling away, soft pants filling the silence, until a warm hand is turning your head, and Satoru kisses you next, needy and persistent, as he always was, his fingers threaded in your hair, grazing against the nape of your neck. But Suguru doesn’t waste time, a hand sneaking up the silt of your dress, dragging against your pantyhose, snapping the skintight, translucent fabric against your skin. 
You part from Satoru for a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to his, and you see the lipstick smeared on both their lips — you can only imagine what little you have left is painting more than just your lips at this point. 
“If we don’t stop right now, don’t know if I can, baby,” Satoru murmurs, guiding your palm to his already hard erection, “it’s risky,” 
“It is, someone could catch us,” Suguru is still drawing tempting circles on your upper thigh, his nose brushes against yours as he presses his forehead against yours, “What do you want to do?” 
And you knew the right thing to do would be to fix your faces and return to the party, act as if this hadn’t happened, as the three of you suffer through an evening without each other — until you get home far too late and far too tired to fall asleep beside them. That was the right thing, the sensible thing. 
But your need for them both was hardly sensible. It wasn’t sensible when the three of you had gotten drunk multiple nights after shooting together — Satoru only drinking a shot each time at your and Suguru’s insistence to get far too plastered too quickly. It wasn’t sensible when the two asked you who the better kisser was — your character the envy of every fangirl as you got to kiss the two “strongest” sorcerers — and then when you cheekily replied you weren’t sure, they didn’t hesitate to kiss you then and there, one after another — and you realized you never wanted to stop (and the three you never did that night). It wasn’t sensible to hook up again a few nights later, heading back to Satoru’s place to hang out, only for the three of you end up in bed together yet again — a habit formed, but that you couldn’t quit. And it surely wasn’t sensible when the three of you had started to date — it was far from it, in a business like this. But you did it anyway — because it was them. 
It was always them. 
You rise to your feet, facing them a moment, before turning your back to them, looking over your shoulder at them, “Well? You’re going to have to help me get out of this dress because I’m not letting you two ruin it.” 
And they share a look, before their lips curl into grins, as they reply. 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
“Of course, baby.” 
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“Suguru no—“ and he snaps the fabric of your pantyhose against you making you whimper, “I told you not—“ 
“To ruin your dress, you said nothing about your pantyhose,” his nails digging crescents into your lovely thighs, “and you should worry more about Satoru,” 
Satoru’s lips were nearly glued to your neck, tongue dragging up the side, until he pulled away to scowl at Suguru, “Eh? Why me?”
Suguru shrugs, “who left all those marks all over her neck last time?” 
“You left marks over her thighs,”
“Jealous?” 
“No, but I think you are that everyone saw mine, but no one saw yours,” and Suguru scoffs, 
“My marks aren’t for anyone else but me,” and his fingers tear at the fabric of your pantyhose, as you whine, lips curling as your skin is freed, “and if anyone else was seeing them, well,” his thumb drags across the swell of your far too wet cunt, drawing a pretty gasp from your lips, “I’d have to punish her wouldn’t I?” He kisses the skin exposed between the patchwork tears, making you whimper, “make her cum over and over, until she begs me to stop, show everyone how I fuck her well,” 
“Not as well as I do,” Satoru replies, “isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“I’m not answering that,” you scoff — you knew nothing good came from getting between their fights, except maybe getting between their bodies. 
“Then maybe we’ll have to remind you,” Suguru’s hands drag over your legs again, tugging off the shreds of your pantyhose off, “give you our dicks over and over until you tell us which one’s better,” 
“Sounds good to me, yeah?” Satoru leans down to kiss the valley of your breasts, before his fingers follow, finding the front latch with a grin, “planned for this sweetheart? And I thought I was the one who wanted this the most,” and he undoes the clasp with practiced ease, your chest exposed to his touch, nipples pebbling under the cool air. 
“You still are,” Suguru replies, as he nips at your thigh, eyes flicking down to Satoru’s obvious erection straining against the fabric of his slacks, “ready to burst just from looking at her chest, bet you wouldn’t last a minute getting her off,” 
“Oh yeah? Then let’s see who lasts longer,” Satoru undoes and tosses his shirt with ease, his deep blue suit coat long discarded, before he pulls you up into a sitting position while he lies back, and then lifts you with ease onto the middle of his bare chest, “you in her mouth or me eating her out,” 
“Toru—“ you squealed, as you squirmed, your already embarrassingly wet panties clinging to your dripping cunt, slick against his skin, but he holds your hips steady with large hands, “I can’t — I’ll crush you—“ 
“Ride my face, baby,” Satoru smiles up at you, that same smile you could never say no to — the one that made your stomach tie itself in knots, “wanna watch you cum all over my face, wanna walk around covered with your slick m—“ 
“Fuck—“ you cover your face, cheeks burning, “stop,” 
“Already embarrassed? That’s not good, Princess,” Suguru clicks his tongue, as gentle but teasing fingers pry your hands off your face, “can’t have that, we barely started,” 
“Please, baby?” Satoru pouts, and you can’t resist — a small nod, and his thousand watt smile almost makes it worth it, “take your seat on your throne, Princess,” you snort, almost. 
You gingerly shift yourself over him, still hovering as you hesitate. You whimper as he inhaled, a shudder leaving his body, “how is it possible for you smell so fucking good?” And you hear the distinct sound of him unbuckling his belt and the zipper of his pants, and you knew he was already palming at his length. 
Yet still, insecurity creeps up your body from his gaze, as he gazes up at your messy folds “Are you sure I won’t suffocate—” and he leans up to drag his tongue up your clothed cunt, nose bumping against your puffy clit, “ngh, Toru,” his name comes out far too needy for your taste, knees already beginning to buckle, quivering when he tugs at your drenched panties to snap them against your glistening folds, “fuck—” and he’s pulling the thin fabric aside, his warm breath sending ribbons of heat up your body, nearly shuddering from anticipation alone, and it’s nothing compared to when he pulls you down to seat you fully on his face. 
“Fuck,” your body folds forward, and you barely catch yourself, as Satoru’s needy tongue drags over the length of your dripping cunt, “Toru, oh my god —- fuck,”
You barely register the creak of the bed, and the rustle of clothes or the click of the belt, “That’s the idea after all, princess,” Suguru knelt before you, his pretty cock aching for you and an inch in front of you — he was thicker than Satoru, lovely veins that you wanted nothing more than to trace, and pretty beads of pre-cum dripping from his slit, “are you going to be a good girl and—” he hisses when your lips part to suckle at his tip,tongue flicking over his slit, before you let his cock part your lips again. 
But Satoru wasn’t one to be ignored — his tongue circling your clit faster, as his hands rest on your ass, squeezing, before slapping his hand down against the sensitive flesh, sending you forward onto Suguru’s cock. 
Suguru grunts, fingers threading into your strands, nails digging into your scalp, “s’fucking good for me, princess. Such a good cockeater,” his fingers cup your chin, forcing your gaze higher, eyes blown out in pleasure, boobs bouncing with the way you rocked against Satoru’s face and Suguru’s shallow thrusts, the heavy weight of his dick on your tongue. 
And Suguru can’t resist — palming at your breasts because you’re so pretty when you whine, as he pinches your erect nipples before rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. You moan around Suguru’s length, your hands grasping at his hips, sloppily sucking him off, as Satoru grinds his face against your cunt. 
The wet squelch of your pussy rings in your ears, greedily lapping at your juices like a man wanting to drown, diving deeper and deeper to depths unknown. And when his thumbs reach up to part your hole further apart, you’re nearly choking on Suguru’s dick, as Satoru’s tongue slips into your entrance. 
You whine when he teasingly pulls away, pressing sweet kisses to your clit, “Gonna fuck you right, sweetheart — make sure you can’t remember anything tonight except the feel of my tongue inside you, that is, until I fuck you open,” and he’s burying you back, moaning at the feeling of your juices slipping off the side of his face, “gotta open wide for you baby — gotta swallow this whole cunt, yeah?” 
And you would have moaned if you hadn’t had your mouth full of Suguru’s dick, nearly beginning to choke on it when he began to lazily thrust into your mouth, a shiver down his spine as he looks at you drooling around his length, sloppily tracing his veins, a graze of his teeth against the sensitive skin, and a hiss parts his lips, “careful there,” and he gives a particularly hard thrust, “don’t want me to fuck this throat do you?” and your moan makes a mean smirk curl his lips, “or maybe you do,” 
Fuck, you were getting close — and so was Suguru by the way his hips began to buck into your mouth, and Satoru for that matter — the wet sounds of his fisting his cock along with the messy moans against your cunt sending more pleasure up and down your spine. And fuck, his bucking against his hand was making the bed shake — and god, you’d reach behind you and jack him off if you weren’t holding onto Suguru for dear life. 
“That’s it, sweetheart, swallow my cock, fuck, g’nna cum soon,” Suguru’s balls slap against your face as he begins to fuck your mouth in earnest, “Toru looks he’s about ready to burst too, gonna clean up our cocks before we fuck you, pretty?” 
“Fuck, she nearly clamped down on my mouth from that,” Satoru says, thoroughly muffled from your heat pressed tight to his mouth, his tongue then returning to fuck you, as you ride his face to find your release, unable to think about anything else but cumming, “cum on my face, baby,” and when Satoru sucks around your clit, a sharp palm bearing down on your ass again, you’re cumming, grinding and riding out your high on his face, as he welcomes your release with an open mouth. The wet sounds of his slurping and sucking, as your juices roll off both sides of his face and stain the mattress underneath him.
And then you’re eagerly sucking at Suguru’s cock, swallowing around him as he fucks your face, “g’nna cum, are you gonna let me cum alone — are you going to help Satoru cum too?” and he’s helping you reach back, leaning back with you so his cock never parts your pretty lips, and right as your fingers brush against Satoru’s cock, squeezing around the base, you hollow out your cheeks, letting Suguru’s tip brush your throat. 
They both groan your name as they cum, thick spurts of Suguru’s release down your throat, while Satoru cums all over his stomach and your hand. They slowly still their movements, Suguru slowly pulling his cock from your mouth, strings like a spiderweb of cum and your spit connecting your lips to his dick, and Satoru helps you off his face, eyes shut as your legs are still shaking from the way he ate you out still, as they lay you down on the bed. 
Your eyes flutter open to find Satoru licking his face clean, still glossy with your release and his spit, “Fuck, sweetheart, how do you taste so good?” he murmurs almost reverently, a grin on his lips, “I’ll have to sit on my face more often,” and you’re rolling your eyes. 
“I don’t know if I’ll be sitting on my throne very often, you weirdo,” you chuckle softly, far too breathlessly, and you turn to Suguru to find him leaning on his elbow, gaze still dark. 
“Well, you do have two thrones after all,” Suguru leans down to find your lips in a kiss, tasting himself on your lips, a soft moan pulled from your lips, “you’ll have to use the other at one point or another,” 
“Jealous?” you echo Satoru, and Suguru has you pulled into his lap in a moment, your back pressed flush to his chest, his cock already far too hard, far too quickly, and your head falls back as he drags the tip over your still sensitive folds, “a-ah, Sugu, I—” 
“The only thing I’m jealous about is that the only thing that’s been in this pretty pussy tonight has been Satoru’s tongue,” and he’s tilting your head down, to watch your cunt rub against his length, a whine leaving your throat that you barely recognize as your own, “think we should fix that, shouldn’t we?” 
“Room for another over there?” Satoru adds, drawing closer, his length in hand, as he lazily pumps it to full mast, and you whimper at the sight of him, “our princess is so needy, she needs two of us to fill her, yeah?” 
And Suguru takes the opportunity to spread your folds with his hand, and sink his length into you, your head falling back into his shoulder, as a pornographic moans parts your lips, and Suguru is shushing you all the same, as he works himself into you inch by inch, “Don’t want anything to think we’re filming a different kind of movie in here, hm?” 
“Imagine the headlines then,” Satoru hums, as he teases your clit with his cock, “movie star found cheating on her co star — one dick just wasn’t enough — she needs two,” 
“Can they blame her?” Suguru’s finally inside you fully, his stretch far too delicious, shorting out your nerves with the pleasure — and you swear your cunt was making a mold of his cock, complete with every lovely vein, pretty curve, and each inch, “this pussy deserves the best after all,” 
“S’full,” you’re a mess, walls already fluttering around Suguru, practically begging him to begin moving, while welcoming Satoru in with folds that only craved his cock, “so big,” you whine. 
“Mmhmm, I know, baby,” Satoru’s tilting up your chin, lips curled in a grin, “Suguru’s almost too much for me — how are you going to fit me too?” and you whimper, shaking your head, “you still want me?” and you nod far too eagerly, and he chuckles, “well, you heard our princess, Suguru, mind giving me a hand?” 
And you furrow your brow, unsure, until you feel Suguru’s hands reach around to your front and spreads your pussy lips wider for Satoru, making your cunt clamp down on him, “fuck, she just got tighter,” but Satoru takes it in stride, gathering some of your juices on his fingers to further lube himself up. 
“No matter how much we fuck her like this, she’s always so tight for us,” Satoru’s pressing his tip to your spread entrance, and you whimper, “maybe tonight,” his fingers tilt your chin upwards, “we’ll finally fuck her to remember our shapes,” 
And he guides his cock into you, and Suguru braces your body against his as your back arches, as both of their lengths stretch you open — like they said, no matter how many times they did this, you never quite got used to it. 
But this pleasure? You were far too used to — they had ruined you for anyone else, because no matter what, no man could please you like either of them, much less both of them. 
“S’full, fuck, I-I can’t—” your walls are squeezing them hard, dicks rubbing together, drawing deep groans from both of them. 
“Don’t have to break our dicks off to get us to fuck you all the time, baby,” Satoru mutters, panting, as he lifts your leg, hooking one around his hip, “already gonna fuck you stupid anytime you want,” 
“Shit, I’m not gonna last that long, Satoru,” Suguru says through gritted teeth, pressing heated kisses to your neck, “gonna start moving, sweetheart,” and you’re nodding, as they both begin to fuck you in tandem. Suguru thrusted upwards steadily, forcing you to ride him, allowing his dick to sink into sweeter depths, pleasure ripping up your spine, while Satoru fucked into you at a rough pace, hands gripping your thighs as he did. Both of their movements drove the other deeper into you, reaching depths you didn’t think were possible. 
“F-fuck, Sugu, Toru,” you’re babbling, lost in the thick haze of pleasure, dripping over your skin like hot molasses, slow but burning all the same, as your walls fluttered around both of them, “s’good, I can’t—” tears burning at your eyes, as your hands brace themselves on Satoru’s shoulders. 
“That’s it, such a good girl, been thinking about you spread out on me like this since the moment I saw you,” Suguru grunts, rutting into you faster, “couldn’t wait to rip off this dress to fuck you right — didn’t think you’d let us so soon,” and you swear their cocks were kissing your cervix at this point, and surely you’d look down and see a bulge in your stomach from how deep they were. 
“Pretty girl takes us so well, no one compares to you, sweetheart,” Satoru sighs, watching the way his cock sunk into you again and again, “you’re ours, just ours,” 
“I’m close, s’close, g’nna—” pleasure built like a coil in your stomach, ready to snap, and they were only more than happy to pull you apart, as long as they were the only one to put you back together. 
And Satoru rubs at your clit, a moan on his lips, “Cum for us princess,” and you do, toes curling as you cum hard with their names on your lips, clamping down around both of their cocks. Low moans of your name leave their lips as they fuck you through your orgasm, hips stuttering when they slowed, “g’nna cum,” 
“Where—” Suguru chokes out, and you’re leaning into Suguru, while your arms wrap around Satoru’s neck, pulling him close. 
“Inside, please, give me your cum,” And they both moan, slowing until they notch themselves deep as they both cum, thick releases painting your walls, continuing to fuck their cum deeper inside, “ngh, fuck,” And Suguru finds your lips in a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, as Satoru digs his teeth into your neck, no protest coming to your mind, only just a want for more, more, more. 
And they slow, creak of the mattress and the pants stilling into silence, as you lean back against Suguru, Satoru’s face buried in the crook of your shoulder as the three of you bask in the afterglow. 
And finally, Satoru slowly pulls himself from you, groaning as he watches the evidence of the double creampie they gave you drips from inside you, “Fuck, sweetheart, we filled you up,” 
“A shame to waste it,” Suguru murmurs, as he pulls his softening erection from inside you, “should we plug her up, make her keep our cum inside her for the rest of the night?” and you’re biting back a moan, but Satoru doesn’t miss the way your lower lips twitch. 
“Oh, she likes that,” Satoru grins, cupping your face to find your lips in a languid kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue that teases teasingly over the seam of your lips,  “or maybe we should fuck her again and give her more until it drips down her thighs all night, hm?” 
And the moment is fraught with tension, as the two of them lean in again to kiss you, before the door bursts open, making all three of you freeze. 
Fuck (and not in the good way). 
“Oi, what the fuck,” the three of you glance over, as Satoru and Suguru hurriedly covered you up with Suguru’s nearby discarded jacket, “you fucking idiots—” 
“Look who’s talking,” Satoru scoffs, “fuck off,” 
“I would say the same to you, but you already did,” Sukuna shakes his head, “all night you’ve been gone, and you can’t be bothered to keep track of the time?” and your brow knits together, “it’s nearly time for the fucking—”
“Question and answer, with the press,” the warmth of their embraces erased in a moment by the news, a bucket of ice water spilled over your head, “fuck,” you’re trying to scramble to get up, “fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t out there like this—” 
“No fuck you can’t,” Sukuna scoffs, and Suguru glares at him, as he helps you into your dress, while Satoru stands with his jacket as a partition.
“Stop talking if you’re not going to help,” and you’re lucky the dress doesn’t require six people to get into, and you had chosen something relatively simple, with a fucking string corset you were beginning to regret as Suguru tried to retie it as best he could, “fuck, why was this dress so easy to take off?” But he finally gets it, as you open the bathroom to look at yourself in the mirror. 
“My makeup, my hair — I can fix it, but not the way it was before,” you’re covering your face, how was your career over before you barely started? “Fuck, what do I do—” 
“It’s simple,” Satoru sighs, “as much as I hate to suggest this, and I probably will go gouge my eyes out—” 
You sigh, “Toru—” 
“I have an idea,” Satoru’s eyes slide to Sukuna, disgust evident in his face, until he glances back at you, “but we’ll need his help,” 
“Don’t worry, I don’t know your name either,” Satoru’s head snaps back to Sukuna. 
“You don’t know—” 
Sukuna smirks, “What’s the plan?” 
Satoru’s expression sours, as he scratches the back of his head, “Well…” 
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“You surprised me, brat,” Sukuna says, as he holds your arm, as the two of you make your way back into the ballroom, and you’re adjusting your dress, still far too self conscious — as if everyone could see what you did — even though that was the plan. 
“That I agreed to this?” you murmur. 
“No, that you bit me that hard,” he rubbed the mark you left on his neck, as your cheeks burn, “didn’t expect a tiny thing like you to be able to bite that well,” 
“Well, I had to make it look real,” you look away, but look back when you’re about to reach the doors of the ballroom, “fuck, everyone is going to look at us, aren’t they?” 
“Let them enjoy the show,” an arm slides around your waist, “you know they will.” 
~~~
It’s only been a few weeks since the film premiered, and it’s already far surpassed some of the top grossing films this year. A lot of the buzz generated from the film has been around rumors surrounding the relationship between the two lead co-stars—their tumultuous relationship seems to have come to an end—
And you tune out the video for a moment, scrolling into the comments to see what people are saying: 
sukunasthirdleg69: damn can i get on him next? 👅 
gegesnumber1hater: wonder if she got back with gojo or geto again? 🤭 I’d like to see that groupchat pop off. 
gogecutestprincess replied to gegesnumber1hater: no way she lost her chance with gojo and geto 😤 they deserve better…like each other
You chuckled, at least the news of you and Sukuna had spread as planned. You had enough of the coverage of the premiere with the zoomed in images of your clothes and the marks on both of your bodies. But finally it was done — but how long would it be until you slipped up with Satoru or Suguru and the rumors would begin again? 
“What are you thinking about so much? Aside from me,” Satoru collapses on the couch beside you, hair still damp from the shower, arm slipping around your waist, as he leans over your shoulder, “what are they saying now?” 
“Just more rumors — some are wondering if we got back together,” 
“How could they ever think we let you go?” Suguru presses a kiss to the top of your head, before sitting beside you. 
“I still hate that they think the marks I left are from Sukuna,” Satoru mumbles, as you flip through the comments, burying his face further into the crook of your neck, “how could they not realize it was my hard work that put those marks there?” 
“Because it’s so distinct,” you snort, and he’s pouting as you press a kiss to his cheek, “not everyone has your sharp eyes, Toru,” 
“And yet you saved every picture they got of her,” Suguru smirks, and Satoru glares at him, “but I did too,” 
“What are we going to do when they start talking about us again?” Satoru tilts his head at your question. 
“Let them,” Satoru leans back on the couch, fingers toying with a strand of your hair, “and if you really don’t like it, we can pay them off,” 
“And if I don’t want to pay them off?” Both of them furrow their brows, “what if I want them to know?” You add, chewing on your lip, “about us?” 
“You want to?” Suguru’s gaze softens, “but more than us, it could impact your career,” 
“It already had,” you scoff, when had it not recently? If it was going to be like this, you would at least like to be in control of the narrative, “everyone is always talking about us, well,” your lips curl into a grin, why don’t we give them something to talk about?” 
“And what would that be?” Satoru hums. 
You lock your phone screen, “When does shooting and press start for season three of jjk?” 
~~~~
A few months later….
“A successful film, several offers to be in other blockbusters, and now you’re back shooting season three of Jujutsu Kaisen,” the interviewer leans back, shaking her head, as she fans herself with her interview cards, “I think we were lucky to get an interview with you now! Although it isn’t in person this time,” 
“Well, you can’t forget your roots,” and you couldn’t — this was the first show that had requested you for an interview all those years ago when season one of Jujutsu Kaisen was airing, even if you had relegate them to a video interview, “it feels like this year has been that in many ways,” 
“Oh? How is that?” and your lips curl. 
“Last year with my first feature film and everything else, it felt like starting over — starting from scratch with something so new that I barely recognized myself at some point,” your hands clasped in your lap, “this year, after the film gained so much traction, and going back to film the show that made my career, it just feels like coming home — especially to the cast,” 
“Speaking of the cast, are you going to see more behind the scenes with Gojo and Geto?” she grins, “so many of your videos with those two went viral — are we going to see more of the three of you messing around?” 
And you can’t help the smile on your lips, “Oh definitely you will be seeing more of that,” you’re tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and the lights glint off a set of two rings on your finger, diamonds glinting as if begging for notice, and you hear a small gasp. 
“Is that—” and you freeze a moment, before your smile grows wider, and the interviewer squeals, “Are you married?” 
“Guilty,” 
The interviewer grins harder than you are — and you’re not quite sure if she’s more thrilled at the news or of getting this exclusive, “Who’s the lucky man?” 
And you open your mouth, when the camera goes out of focus for a moment, only for it to come back into focus with Satoru and Suguru leaning into the frame of the camera, their arms around your sides. And Satoru lowers his sunglasses with a smirk. 
“Who said it’s just one?” 
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✧ a/n: ahh this was super fun to write just because of how much crack it was hahah, i hope you guys enjoyed <3
✧ taglist: @forest-hashira , @supilyu , @yamaguccitadashi, @kentocalls, @magicalgirlb, @ssetsuka , @isabeauwolf , @lemonintrovert01 , @astraecea-silversin , @cerene-dipity , @whorefornoodles , @hobimysolecito , @risuola , @ja-zz , @spider-fan72 , @jayathelostdragon , @therealestpussyeater , @too-much-snow , @umarureid , @rosso-seta , @maddie-jayne , @at-the-chateau , @cherrypieyourface, @sleepysaurusworld , @lucilferz , @spltbtch , @bobfloydluvsblackwomen , @johannakhalafalla , @augustwinesworld , @catsgomurp , @psychxbby, @hellkaiserinphoenix , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @cstandsforchaos , @sunamatic , @lycoris-01 , @mua-for-now , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @voids-universe , @caelestine-the-caelicatto , @gorouenjoyer
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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safe || alexia putellas x reader ||
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alexia doesn't hear you when you use your safeword.
minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.
alexia's pace was relentless. you could just barely hear her muttering under her breath as she fucked you. every so often you'd hear her speak up, the odd catalan phrase punctuated with forceful thrusts. you were teetering on the edge of an orgasm, but instead of alexia's thrusts getting you closer to your climax, they pushed you away from it.
you tried to move away from alexia a bit, but she didn't give up. you couldn't get even an inch away from her. alexia seemed to chase you down with her thrusts. you couldn't push back against her because you knew that alexia would take that as a sign that you wanted more. your body couldn't even handle what she was giving you, but alexia showed no signs of stopping.
"red." you tried to speak as clearly as you could, but your words came out muffled. alexia was pushing your head down into the pillows as she thrust into you. it was hard, but you managed to push yourself up a bit more. "ale, please."
"that's it baby." it was the first time that you had heard alexia speak english since she started fucking you. usually, that would have been a bit comforting, but she obviously was misunderstanding your tone. she took your desperation for desire, and started to thrust even harder.
"alexia, red!" this time, it was impossible for alexia not to hear you. she practically jumped back to get away from you. once alexia had pulled out of you, you scrambled up towards the pillows and curled into yourself. you felt a bit like you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, and a part of you wanted alexia there next to you.
one look at her told you that was not happening. alexia looked absolutely distraught, enough so that it distracted from your own feelings. however, you couldn't bring yourself to comfort her. alexia sat down at the edge of the bed, obviously wanting to check on you, but unable to tear her eyes away from the floor.
"alexia, will you come here please?" you asked her. alexia looked over at you, but didn't move a muscle. you wrapped yourself up in a blanket and crawled across the bed to lay against her. alexia didn't move, as if she was afraid of touching you. "are you okay?"
"i should be asking you that," alexia grumbled. the fear was starting to subside, but you hated what was coming next. alexia was angry, absolutely furious with herself. "i should have been paying attention to you. i should have been listening. why are you being so nice to me?"
"because i love you, and i know that you weren't doing it on purpose," you told her. alexia seemed to accept that. she did everything that you asked her to. the two of you showered together and alexia held you all throughout the night.
alexia had been a distant in the morning, but you hadn't noticed until the two of you got to training. the media team wanted to make a couple of videos about alexia's resigning, so you hadn't thought twice when she left without you. however, it became increasingly obvious that you needed to talk to alexia about the night before as she avoided you throughout the day.
"capi, do you have a minute?" alexia tensed at the sound of your voice, but she couldn't ignore you now. to everybody else, it looked like you had official team business. irene and mapi walked away from alexia, leaving the two of you alone together to talk. "ale, i'm not mad at you about last night."
"well, you should be. i didn't listen when i should have. i violated you," alexia's voice cracked as she whispered the last part. you sighed as you pulled her in for a hug. "i can't even look at myself. i don't know how you can stand to be around me."
"because i love you, and despite what happened last night, you make me feel safe. i know that you didn't do that on purpose. i know that you'd never hurt me any more than i ask you to, and even then, you're hesitant," you told her.
"you feel safe with me?" alexia asked you. your heart broke at the genuine surprise in her voice. there had never been a time when you felt unsafe with alexia nearby. even before your relationship blossomed into what it was, she was always someone you had trusted.
"of course i do. i think that we could do with better communication, but alexia, there is nothing you could do to make me not trust you," you told her. alexia ducked her head down a little and smiled. "i love you."
"i love you too," alexia said as she lifted her head from the crook of your neck. the rest of your practice went by smoothly, both of you glad that alexia had stopped avoiding you. she was a bit more affectionate than normal, almost as if she was trying to make up for the time she had spent distancing herself from you. either way, you weren't going to complain about the extra hugs and kisses you were getting from your girlfriend.
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ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
criminal!rafe x spoiled!gf!reader who do absolutely everything together. crimal activity and all. “how did you get that lock open?”, “my hairpin, duh.” rafe would stare at her proudly, thinking to himself; ‘that’s my girl.’ while she handed him stacks of cash. spoiled!gf!reader who knows she has rafe wrapped around her manicured finger, despite him arguing that it’s the other way around. “just admit that you bend at my will, baby.” rafe would be towering over her, thinking he finally has her cornered until she shoots him with; ‘who was on their knees last night begging me to sit on their face?’
criminal!rafe who would panic when she wouldn’t respond to his ‘are you okay?!’ after shooting down a group of men, only to find her fixing her lipgloss in the bathroom. “what on earth are they feeding these guys?” she’d huff, stepping over one of their bodies before walking past him.. “let’s get out of here, i’m hungry!” rafe would shake his head, trailing behind her. spoiled!gf!reader who would convince rafe to let her use handcuffs on him, telling him he’s under arrest for not giving her babies yet. “that’s a life sentence, mr. cameron.” he’d be looking up at her, slightly irritated that he couldn’t trace the curves of her hips. “don’t forget to throw away the key.”
criminal!rafe x spoiled!gf!reader who’d go over all of the solutions to problems they may run into along the way. “you see this phone? only one person has the number to it. if it ever rings, that means i’m dead-” she’d stop him right there, “what the fuck?!” her blood ran cold at the thought, “just listen baby- if you ever hear this phone ring, you need to get up, grab the backpack with the money from the master safe, and run.” a shiver ran down her spine. “but-” rafe would cut her off, “no ‘buts’, i need you to do what i say, ‘cause whoever gets me will try to get you too, and i won’t let that happen. promise me.” she hated the idea, but knew rafe wouldn’t be able to rest until she reassured him.
spoiled!gf!reader who always bailed rafe out of jail, both of them partaking in post-jail sex as if he was away for a year instead of a couple nights. “shit- you were the only thing i could think of in there. my pretty baby here all by herself..” he’d be plowing into her, showering her in kisses as a silent apology for getting caught up and making her go through the trouble of getting him out. “i’ll make it up to you. ‘go and get that bag you’ve been wanting, sound good?” she’d nod, too fucked out to form a sentence. criminal!rafe who’d gift reader a gun, teaching her how to properly aim and fire. “so once you have it aimed at your target, you’re just gonna- jesus christ!” she flinched at the sound that pierced through the air, both her and rafe staring wide eyed at one another. “sorry..”
criminal!rafe x spoiled!gf!reader who can stay up till an ungodly hour, just talking in the dark while they trace shapes into each other’s skin. “can you imagine that? watching the sunset while our little ones run around?” rafe would smile even though she couldn’t see him, the image tugging at his heart strings. “i dream about those kinds of things..” he’d pull her close, taking in her sweet scent. “promise me something?” rafe agreed without hesitation. “promise me that what we do isn’t forever. i don’t want to run anymore..” she’d sniffle, rafe wiping the tears from her eyes. “i’m tired of running, too, ‘promise.” he kissed her, wanting to make the mood lighter. “let’s talk rings. i think princess cut suits you perfectly.”
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a/n: this was inspired by the ‘please please please’ mv with sabrina carpenter and barry keoghan, and this post by @heartsforrafecam <3
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reidrum · 2 days
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all yours if you want me | s.r
pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
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a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3
summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.
cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels
wc: 4.6k
pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx
it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.
you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.
spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.
like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.
so you pull out your phone to text your friend. 
“barry’s at 9?”
“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”
you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.
you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.
walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.
it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.
your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.
-
derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.
“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”
“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”
-
so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.
when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.
a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.
morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”
spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.
after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.
good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.
you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.
he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.
spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.
you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.
by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights. 
you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.
sinker.
he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”
“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”
spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”
“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”
he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.
the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.
before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.
spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.
you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.
a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him.  you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”
“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.
fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”
spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.
“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.
spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?
his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”
you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.
you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”
spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.
he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.
he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.
spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”
you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?
you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.
“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“
it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.
“just what, baby?” he coos softly.
it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.
spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”
“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly. 
“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”
you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”
he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.
“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.
he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.
“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.
spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”
your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.
he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.
“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?
spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.
nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.
“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.
the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.
spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.
when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”
you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.
you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”
he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.
“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”
you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.
the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.
his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”
tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.
“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately. 
he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”
his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.
“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.
“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.
spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.
“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.
“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.” 
“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”
“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”
he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”
you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”
he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”
“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”
“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”
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Text
.⋆。The Morning After。⋆.
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader
Ghost was a big man, he loomed over everyone in the squad but you never dared to imagine how big he was everywhere until you accidentally walk in on him in the shower
Warnings: nudity, Ghost is fucking massive, horny thoughts, reader’s callsign is Pyro, implied smut, size difference WC: 1.3k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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You couldn’t look your LT in the eye, not that you could before but now it was even worse. You knew that he knew something was wrong but you were too damn stubborn and too damn embarrassed to clear it up. You could feel those striking brown eyes staring at the back of your head as you poured yourself a coffee from the ancient coffee machine. His gaze followed you as you bypassed your usual seat next to him and instead sat beside Soap, expertly positioning your body beside the Scott as to not see your superior.
“You’re next to me today then lass?” Soap threw an arm over your shoulders, shaking you with his excitement. 
“Regrettably, yes.” You snapped back, your exhausted state only adding to the annoyance you felt around the man you called your friend. He smirked, dark eyes sparkling with mischief.
“What’s up yer ass today?” He asked right as you took a sip of the shitty coffee causing you to choke on the dark liquid, drawing the attention of the whole table to you. Soap beamed as you coughed and for a brief moment, your focus was not on the piercing gaze of Ghost.
“Nothing! Nothing, just didn’t sleep well.” You forced your attention to the front of the room where Captain Price was beginning his morning debrief.
Getting lost in the monotonous tones of the Brit, your mind began to wander to the events of last night.
Your entire body was covered in a layer of grime and sweat, a consequence of having to test out the new training course for the recruits coming in next week. You had been chosen ‘at random’ but knew that it was because you were the youngest of the 141 and thus at the bottom of the pecking order.
All you could think about after being in the cold mud and rain for a solid three hours (you had to run through it multiple times of course to make sure it was sound) was a steaming hot shower and maybe a quick version of your skin care routine. 
Your feet dragged as you made your way to the showers, confident that you would be able to enjoy the room to yourself considering that it was nearing 1 in the morning, not hearing the gentle cascade of water already running over the sound of your own self-pity.
You beelined for your favourite stall but froze when you finally noticed the man standing under the steam. There was no question of who stood before you, the sheer size of him pointed to only one person on your squad.
Water rolled down his broad back like a river, snaking its way over scar tissue and muscle, reddening his skin with its heat. His shoulders rolled as his hands worked through his short dirty blonde hair, washing away the standard issues shampoo that clung to his locks.
You couldn’t help but let your eyes drift lower, settling on the pert cheeks of his ass and his strong, thick legs. Heat crawled up your neck and it was only partially because of the warm temperature of the shower. You held your breath as he turned to reach for the bar of soap sitting on the shelf beside him, exposing his profile to you.
Your eyes went wide and wetness pooled between your plump thighs. Good lord he was so-
“Pyro, we need you to run through the training course again. Ghost will help you out.” You were physically shaken from your daydream by your captain’s voice with the accompanying laugh from the man next to you. Your eyes flicked back up to your commanding officer.
“I must’ve run that thing 50 times sir. It works fine!” The older man raised an eyebrow at you before crossing his arms over his chest and levelling a disappointed look your way.
“Fine is not good enough. You’ll run it until Ghost thinks it’s enough.”
Soap, obviously finding amusement in your torment, said. “You’ll be runnin that course blindfolded if Riley has anything to do with it.” You groaned in annoyance and let your head fall to the table with a thud, ignoring the jeers of your teammates. 
The rest of the day’s tasks were dolled out and the team was quickly dismissed, leaving only you and Simon in the room. He cleared his throat but before he could speak, you shot up. “I’ll meet you down there, I gotta hit the head.”
You scrambled from the room, leaving the giant alone smirking under his balaclava. 
——————
“Faster!” Ghost barked, his voice booming between the obstacles. You growled in frustration, redoubling your efforts as you scaled the 12 ft wall in the centre of the course. You had already beaten your record three times over, yet this seemed to not be enough for your LT.
You reached for the rope at the top, your fingertips just grazing the braided fibres but right as you were about to grab for it, your other arm finally gave out after hours of work and you began to fall backwards. 
Before the scream could escape your lips, your body was cradled in something warm and comfortable. When you were sure that you hadn’t just slammed into the ground, you opened one of your eyes and came face-to-mask with Ghost.
You could tell he was smiling behind that caricature of a skull by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. You huffed and attempted to wriggle out of his arms, desperately forcing yourself not to think about how warm and fucking massive they were. “Now where ya goin there Pyro. That was a big fall, I’d hate to see ya hurt.” His voice was even deeper than normal, husky and raw. It made your cunt clench around nothing.
“I um-“ You started to say but you were quickly cut off by a tut from your superior officer.
“I think we’re done for the day Sergeant, you’ve obviously proved your… endurance.” He said the last word like it was dirty, his brown eyes growing even darker as his biceps flexed, keeping you pinned to his chest. Something in your stomach fluttered. Even holding you up to him, Ghost was still looming over you, the shadow of his bulk blocking out the sunlight that licked at his broad shoulders.
Your gaze flicked to where the black of his mask clung to his lips before you caught yourself and forced your eyes elsewhere. “Yes lieutenant.” Simon chuckled and lowered you, more gently than you would’ve thought him capable, to the dusty ground of the training area. 
“Good girl.” He purred and for a second, you thought that maybe you had actually bashed your head and now you were hallucinating. Ghost kept a paw-like hand wrapped around your elbow, preventing you from sprinting off.
“S-sir?” 
“Ya know ye aren’t as sneaky as ya think ya are Pyro. If ya wanted ta join me for a shower, ya coulda. Don’t cha deny it, could feel those pretty eyes of yours searing inta me from 50 paces.” Your heart dropped.
“Oh god sir, ‘m so sorry, it was a total accident. It’ll never happen again.” His grip tightened, making your mouth snap shut with an audible click.
“Now when did I say tha I didn’t want tha?” His head tilted, the deep brown of his eyes glinting mischievously as he lowered himself closer to your face. “How ‘bout I show ya what ya missed out on a give ya a proper reward for bein such a good little girl?” 
It was all you could do to nod your head and not collapse to the ground with a pathetic whimper. The edge of his mask shifted as he smirked down at you. 
——————
“Sorry I’m late Captain, won’t happen again.” You limped into the briefing room, dark bags marring your cheeks. Price nodded at you and continued his debrief for the day. You winced as you plopped down in the only open seat, ending up right next to Soap for the second day in a row.
“Ye look li shite.” He leaned over to you. You jabbed your index and middle fingers into his ribs, making Johnny jump slightly and earning him a glare from Price. “Jausus, Ghost musta really battered ya ta make ya so bitchy today.” 
You smirked and caught said lieutenant’s eye. “He really fucking did.” 
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kingofbodyrolls · 2 days
Text
Till We Meet Again (m) | JJK
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When your childhood friend that you had a crush on, moved away out of the blue— you never thought you’d see him again. A night swim in the ocean will have you feeling delusional, but the voice that fills your ears— sweet like cotton candy, you’d recognize that voice anywhere, it’s Jungkook.
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→ Pairing: jungkook x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: childhood friends to lovers → Genres: romcom, smut, nostalgia, and so much fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 11.4k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jungkook’s first time (he is not a virgin lol, but it’s his first time with a human, so), this one is actually pretty mild, bordering on vanilla. There’s talk about how merfolk do it 👀 This is just crack fantasy okay, please don’t take it seriously! There’s some small pov changes in here, because, well, it just happened, lol. → Warnings (explicit): protected sex, oral (both male and female), hair pulling, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, a little bit of dirty talk, begging, pleasing. → Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld → Read on AO3! → Author’s note: happy birthday to my sweet and lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7) 🥳 I wrote this story for you as a present. I know you’re not that much into fantasy, but when I told you about my mermaid ideas, you were excited 🤭 So this first one is for you bby ✨ I really hope you like it, also that everyone else does!
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[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭
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The rain begins to pour as Jungkook grips your hand, his touch both delicate and powerful, guiding you through the sudden downpour. Moments ago, you were laughing and playing at the local playground, unaware that Mother Nature was about to drench the world in her unexpected shower.
Your heart pounds in your chest and echoes in your ears as you race to keep up with Jungkook, a wide smile spreading across your face. For an eight-year-old, he’s pretty damn fast, making every step feel like a thrilling challenge.
He’s sprinting down familiar streets, and you quickly realize he’s heading towards your home. You’ve never seen his house or met his parents, but your own parents adore Jungkook, joking that he’s your future husband. You’re not thinking that far ahead—you’re just a child, after all. Yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a fondness for him.
Let’s be honest, you have the biggest crush on the sweet boy with the round face and big doe eyes that seem too large for his tiny head. His nose is adorable, and his teeth only add to his charm. In short, you love everything about him, even his occasional unreasonable moments. But when he pouts, sticking out his bottom lip in that irresistibly cute way, your heart completely melts.
Your house comes into view, but instead of heading inside, he veers into your backyard, leading you towards the hidden playhouse nestled among the bushes and small trees.
“Shouldn’t we get inside where it’s dry?” you ask, bewilderment etched across your face as you finally reach the playhouse. He crouches down and gently pulls you inside, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“No, we’ll be safe here,” he assures you, sitting down with his legs tucked under him. He bites his lip softly, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.
“We should go inside; I don’t want either of us to catch a cold,” you mumble, settling beside him and feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. Despite not feeling chilled yet, you know it’s risky to stay out in wet clothes. It’s autumn, and although the air still holds a lingering warmth, you’re aware that it won’t last long.
“Let’s just stay here for a moment, okay?” he pleads, his eyes wide and his signature pout in full effect. You find yourself unable to resist—after all, who could say no to that adorable face?
For a few minutes, you sit there side by side, listening to the sky weep as rain patters softly on the roof of the playhouse. A few droplets sneak inside, but it hardly matters.
Jungkook suddenly turns to you, his expression unreadable— sadness flickers across his features, his normally warm brown eyes darkening to near-black in the dim light. His smile vanishes, replaced by a somberness that seems to weigh heavily on him. You can’t help but wonder what has shifted, why he’s undergone this sudden transformation in demeanor.
“___. Promise me you’ll never forget me?” 
His eyes widen with earnestness, pleading like a puppy’s, and both of his hands seek yours, holding on as if afraid of being forgotten.
Emotions swirl in those hazel eyes, a tumultuous sea of feelings you struggle to decipher. You long to grasp his thoughts, to understand why he’s broaching the topic of forgetting him. But the idea is unfathomable to you; forgetting him seems as impossible as forgetting your own name.
Something shimmers in his eyes—what, you can’t quite discern. They resemble an ocean, deep and mysterious, where one could easily lose themselves if they stared for too long.
“Forget you? Kookie, what on earth are you talking about?” your eyes widen in disbelief, searching his face for any hint of understanding, but finding only confusion.
“It’s just... I like you a lot, and,” he murmurs, stumbling over his words, his hands fidgeting nervously with yours. Then, lifting his gaze to meet yours, he adds with a touch of vulnerability, “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me, ___. You’re my friend.”
With a warm smile and a gentle chuckle, you reply, “Duh, silly. Of course you’ll never forget me! And I’ll never forget you either. Now, can we please go inside?”
Jungkook smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as it usually does, leaving a lingering unease in the pit of your stomach. It feels like a storm is brewing within you, mirroring the turbulent weather outside.
“Just promise me. We’ll never forget each other, no matter what,” he implores, his voice firm and unwavering, his eyes reflecting the solemnity of his words.
He clasps your hand with his own, seeking out your pinky finger. 
“Pinky promise?” he asks, his eyes earnest, holding onto your gaze with a mix of hope and determination.
Your eyes flicker with a rapid dance of confusion and amusement. Despite the chaos of the moment, a smile spreads across your face, its warmth seeming to dissolve his frown and alleviate his frazzled state.
“Okay. Pinky promise,” you affirm, intertwining your pinky finger with his, sealing the pact with a vow that feels as timeless as eternity.
You never laid eyes on Jungkook after that—well, you did both retreat indoors, your mother showering Jungkook with love and sweet treats he adored. But after that day, twenty long years ago, he vanished from your life out of the blue, leaving only memories behind.
Why you’re thinking about him now, you really don’t know. Yet, just as he once asked of you, you’ve never let go of his memory—a part of you still holds onto the hope that he might reappear, surprising you around some unsuspecting corner, as if he never left. But with each passing day, the likelihood of such serendipity grows fainter, like the receding tide of the deep blue ocean.
Maybe it’s the nostalgia stirred by your recent home purchase by the sea that brings back memories of your childhood crush. The vast expanse of the ocean triggers thoughts of his eyes—not because of their color, but the way they used to glimmer, reflecting the light with a sparkle that danced like sunbeams on water.
Long strolls on the beach prove therapeutic, gradually pushing thoughts of your childhood crush to the recesses of your mind. With each step along the sandy shores, you uncover treasures—seashells, smoothed by the relentless embrace of the waves, and other mementos of seaside serenity.
You truly love the beach, which is why you chose to buy a house so close to the shore. It’s not just because the ocean reminds you of a certain childhood friend you wish you could see again. His sudden departure has always baffled you—sometimes you wonder what really happened. 
Was he kidnapped, or did he simply leave without a word? 
Why would he vanish without telling you first, especially if he just had to move?
It’s after dinner, and you find yourself lounging on your terrace, gazing out at the ocean. The view is breathtaking, and when the wind blows just right, the salty breeze gently caresses your skin. You smile a wistful smile as you raise your glass to your lips. Today is a red wine day; despite the heat, the perfectly chilled glass complements the warmth of the evening air.
With your legs propped up on the lounge chair, reclined for maximum comfort, you gaze out at the vast expanse of the sea. You can’t help but wonder about the treasures and secrets it holds, a mysterious world teeming with countless species you’ve never even heard of that call it home.
Mankind has long tried to conquer the world beneath the waters, yet the pitch-black depths of the ocean remain largely unexplored, beyond the reach of even the best diving gear. Though you’re no diver, the allure of the sea’s hidden secrets captivates you, and you dream of one day uncovering its mysteries.
A sweet, velvety sound caresses your ears, prompting you to sit up and listen more closely. The enchanting melody wraps around you, and you realize it’s a voice—someone is singing.
God, it sounds beautiful—captivating, sweet, and strong, yet tinged with sorrow. The melody weaves its way into your soul, leaving you spellbound.
For a moment, you wonder if it’s all in your head—a fleeting hallucination brought on by too much wine. But a glance at your glass and the nearly full bottle beside you confirms you’ve barely finished your first glass.
The voice is real, and it carries an eerily familiar tone. Intrigued, you rise from your comfortable lounge chair and make your way down to the sandy beach that has been your backyard for the past few days.
Your bare feet sink into the warm, fine sand, its texture caressing your skin. You glance around, searching for the source of the beautiful voice, but the beach remains empty, with no one in sight.
There it is again—the singing, so achingly beautiful that it sends shivers down your spine and raises the hair on your arms. Your feet carry you along the shoreline, but despite your efforts, you can’t pinpoint the source of the enchanting voice.
Then, just as you’ve been pacing up and down the shoreline, the voice abruptly vanishes—quiet as a still puddle after a rain shower. With a strange unease settling in your gut, you reluctantly turn back toward home. The voice felt hauntingly familiar, yet somehow elusive—like a distant memory struggling to resurface.
For the past few days, the hauntingly beautiful voice has serenaded you night after night, drawing you out to the beach in search of its mysterious owner. Despite your efforts, luck eludes you, and each failed attempt leaves you with a sense of frustration, reminiscent of the pout Jungkook used to give you whenever you were being unreasonable with him.
Your frustration mounts as the elusive voice continues to evade you, its hauntingly familiar tone persistently tugging at the corners of your mind.
Frustration coursing through your veins, you slip into your bikini, determined to quell the restlessness with a night swim in your aquatic backyard.
As the sand caresses your feet, you stroll down to the shoreline under the watchful gaze of the moon, its ethereal glow casting a mesmerizing sheen upon the water. The scene is nothing short of magical, and as the lukewarm water embraces your skin, a delightful chill courses through your body—not from the cold, but from the familiar embrace of your second home. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart, and in this moment, it feels like a sanctuary away from the world.
Surrendering to the embrace of the water, you allow its gentle currents to envelop you, cradling you in its soft embrace as you yield to its rhythmic sway. With only your head above the surface, you venture further into the depths, relishing the sensation of weightlessness and freedom that comes with each stroke.
A soft, melodic sound tickles your ear—it’s that captivating voice again! This time, it resonates clearer, as if drawing you in closer. Driven by curiosity, you swim towards the source of the sound, your heart pounding with anticipation. As you approach a cluster of rocks and a looming cliffside, you spy a cave nestled within its embrace, beckoning you with its mysterious allure.
The cave envelops you in darkness, yet the gentle glow of the full moon dances upon the water, casting an ethereal light that transforms the rocky surface of the cliff into glistening crystals. The voice reverberates off the walls, its echoes amplifying its haunting melody. Drawing closer, you discern a figure resting their head upon a rock, their silhouette illuminated by the moon’s gentle caress.
Intrigued, you inch closer, your curiosity piqued. As you approach, you discern the figure of a man, likely around your age, or perhaps a bit younger, reclining against the stone, his body partially obscured by its shadowy embrace.
“Hello?” you call out, your voice echoing softly in the cave. Instantly, a pair of dark brown eyes fixate on yours, their intensity sending a shiver of recognition down your spine.
As you hear something splashing nearby, you swiftly swim to the corner of the cave. Pulling yourself up onto the rocky surface, you cast an inquisitive gaze at the stranger, who remains silent, their expression enigmatic.
“Are you okay?” you inquire, met with silence as the man attempts to retreat, concealing more of his body beneath the murky depths, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath the surface.
You approach cautiously, taking slow, measured steps, careful not to startle the man. His features are striking—sharp, chiseled jawline, eyes wide and intense, lips full yet thin, and a cute nose that triggers a flood of memories from long ago, memories that have never faded.
“Jungkook?” you gasp, the name escaping your lips like a sudden gust of wind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you—happiness and hurt colliding like waves crashing against the shore, overwhelming you in their tumultuous embrace.
The man cautiously peers over the rock, his bare torso partially shielded from view. The sight of him shirtless prompts a flurry of questions in your mind—why is he here, and why is he without a shirt?
Is that a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm?
You can’t help but notice the strength in his neck, the prominent veins tracing a path down to his defined clavicle and broad shoulders. Damn it you really shouldn’t, but you find yourself shamelessly admiring his physique, a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.
“___?” His voice breaks the silence, light and airy, reminiscent of a summer breeze whispering through the leaves.
“Is it really you?” you inquire, lowering yourself to sit in front of him, your gaze sweeping over his features once more. His face holds a striking resemblance to someone from your past, now matured with the passage of time. Yet, those deep, familiar ocean eyes leave no doubt—it’s unmistakably Jungkook.
“Yes, it’s me,” he confirms, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. The boyish charm of his smile clashes with the maturity reflected in his sharp features, creating a captivating contrast.
“What are you doing here?” you inquire, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in your voice. The sight of him in this cave, serenading the darkness with his song, leaves you utterly bewildered.
“Just taking a breather,” he chuckles, his gaze shamelessly roaming over your form, sending a subtle shiver down your spine.
“Hold on a second,” you exclaim, frustration tinged with urgency in your voice as you scratch your head in bewilderment. “What brings you here? You vanished without a trace. What happened?”
Another splash in the water draws your attention, and you track the sound to behind Jungkook—then, you spot it: the tail. It’s a mesmerizing shade of purple, with delicate variations of violet shimmering in the moonlit cave. The translucent fins catch the light as they sway gracefully. The scales, rough and scaly, add to the otherworldly beauty of him.
Your jaw nearly hits the rocky surface—if it could, it surely would. You gaze, utterly transfixed, at the figure before you—your childhood friend, now revealed as a mermaid. No, a merman. The revelation leaves you reeling. How is this possible? You’ve heard of undiscovered species lurking beneath the waters, but this is your friend, someone you’ve known for years with two perfectly functional feet and no hint of a scaly tail.
“___,” he begins, his voice filled with warmth and genuine curiosity. “It’s been such a long time. How have you been?” His eyes radiate happiness, but you’re still reeling from the revelation before you. Seeing him again—something you’ve dreamt about for years—leaves you speechless.
“No,” you assert firmly, a rush of urgency in your tone. “You don’t get to ask questions yet. There are so many things I need answers to from you first.” Determined, you attempt to peer over the rock he’s perched on, desperate for a closer look at the astonishing sight before you—your childhood friend now bearing a tail, a reality that defies all logic.
“Alright, fire away,” he responds, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. “But give me a moment to settle in.” With a graceful movement, he hoists himself out of the water, his biceps flexing as he perches on the rock, his tail lazily swaying in the water. Bathed in the soft glow of the cave, his majestic purple tail shimmers, leaving you in awe of his breathtaking beauty.
He seems big and broad shouldered, the tattoos look intricate, reflecting ancient scribbles and drawings on his arm.
You plop down on the rugged surface, your mind reeling with disbelief—it all feels like a surreal dream. Unable to resist, you extend your hand to touch him, as if to confirm his reality. Your index finger tentatively prods his cheek before trailing down to his chest. The moment your touch meets his pecs, you’re met with a jolt of realization—his muscles are firm, real, and undeniably tangible beneath your fingertips, sending a surge of heat through your veins as you inadvertently find yourself groping his impeccable chest.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes darting from your hand on his chest back to your face. Embarrassment floods your cheeks with a deep crimson as the realization of your actions hits you. You’ve been feeling the solid warmth of his chest, lost in the surreal moment.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry!” you blurt out, yanking your hand back as if it’s been scorched. “I didn’t mean to touch you like that!” Embarrassment floods through you, your heart racing as you pull away from the unexpected intimacy.
Damn it, get a grip, you chastise yourself silently. “I just wanted to make sure this is real,” you confess aloud, your voice trembling slightly with lingering disbelief.
You release a nervous chuckle, the sound betraying the disbelief still coursing through you. But as you take in the surreal sight before you—Jungkook, undeniably real and impossibly transformed—you can no longer deny the truth. Your childhood friend is here, right in front of you, and he is, astonishingly, a merman.
“Oh, this is very real,” he teases, his voice rich and layered with an enigmatic quality that you can’t quite decipher but are desperate to understand.
“Are you really a merman?” you ask, your gaze drifting back to his tail, mesmerized by its iridescent beauty. It’s breathtaking, almost otherworldly.
He nods, a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes glimmering with a wistful nostalgia that tugs at your heartstrings.
“What happened to you? Why did you leave?” you demand, the urgency in your voice revealing the depth of your longing and confusion. These are the questions that have haunted you for years, the ones you swore you’d ask if you ever saw him again. Why did he disappear without a word, leaving you behind?
You watch as his expression shifts, becoming more guarded. “My parents and I had to move back home... to the ocean, I mean,” he explains, his face twitching as if struggling to mask an inner pain. “A rift in a tectonic plate devastated my village. Everything was destroyed, so we had to return and help rebuild.”
You study him closely, a lump forming in your throat as a myriad of emotions swirl within you.
“Okay. But why couldn’t you come back when you were done?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and hurt. It’s apparent that there are unresolved feelings of abandonment lingering within you, a reminder of the wounds you may need to address with your therapist.
“I really wanted to, but my parents and the village elders forbade it. We dedicated ourselves to rebuilding our village, but returning to the surface was strictly prohibited,” he explains, a palpable sadness tinting his words. It’s evident that he had yearned to reunite with you, but the weight of his responsibilities as a merman ultimately kept him bound to the depths of the ocean.
“Why are you here now? And are there others like you?” you inquire, a mix of bewilderment and intrigue coloring your tone. As you press for more information, you notice him visibly relax, his features softening once again in response to your curiosity.
“Well, I’ve been here for quite a while. I come up here to sing, often thinking of you, actually,” he confesses, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. “And yes, there are others like me,” he adds with a chuckle, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and friendly banter.
“Thinking of me?” you stammer in amazement, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of his words settles in.
“Yeah. I’ve missed you since I had to leave, and I’ve been searching for you for years. Meeting you again feels like a dream come true,” he confesses, his voice filled with palpable joy at the reunion with a long-lost friend. His words send a surge of warmth through you, igniting a flutter of emotions you thought long buried. As your heart skips a beat, you’re struck by the realization that the childhood crush you harbored for him still lingers, stronger than ever.
“I’ve missed you too,” you exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion. With a gentle touch, you extend your hand, laying it atop his on the rough surface of the rock, a silent reassurance of your enduring bond.
“How come you’re a merman? You were just a boy last time I saw you…” you begin, not really knowing how to ask the question that you have swirling in your mind.
“You want to know if something happened to me, to make me like this,” he gestures with his other hand over his body— it’s well defined, muscles big and strong, “or if I’d always been a merman?” His words hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the mysteries surrounding his transformation.
You choke on air with how effortlessly he articulates your thoughts, a skill he’s always possessed. You nod in agreement, the intensity of your curiosity driving you to lean in closer, desperate to unravel the enigma of his transformation.
“I’ve always been a merman. My parents chose to live as humans— they’re merfolk too, by the way. But they wanted me to experience life on land. So, despite appearances, I’ve always been like this,” he explains, a smile gracing his lips as he playfully flips his tail in the water, sending ripples dancing in his wake.
“How… How do you transform?” you ask, studying him intently once more. Despite his remarkable change, he still retains that familiar essence, stirring up the remnants of the childhood crush you thought you’d outgrown. A flush of warmth creeps across your cheeks, betraying the intensity of your emotions.
“Well. When I’m out of water for an extended period, I assume my human form. And when I’m in contact with water, I revert to my merman form,” he explains, a soft smile gracing his lips. As his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch is tender, each stroke a gentle caress that ignites a spark of warmth within you.
You nod, absorbing his explanation, but then you gasp as his words sink in, a realization dawning on you. “Do you transform when it rains then?” you blurt out, the question bursting forth with newfound urgency and curiosity.
His laughter fills the air, rich and unrestrained, sending ripples of warmth through your chest. Your gaze instinctively drifts to his chest, where the rhythmic movement of his pectorals accompanies the melody of his mirth, a captivating display of joy that you can’t help but revel in.
“No. That wouldn’t be very practical. It has to be seawater, or simply prolonged exposure to water can also do the trick,” he explains, his tone laced with a hint of amusement at the notion of rain-induced transformations.
You nod in understanding once more. “Nothing about this is practical, Jungkook,” you remark, a hint of incredulity lacing your tone.
He chuckles again, withdrawing his hand from yours and gently cupping your cheek. His touch sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, like a dormant ember suddenly ignited into a flickering flame, ready to blaze anew.
He locks eyes with you, his gaze unwavering and intense, brimming with depths of emotion that beckon you to explore. It’s like peering into an uncharted ocean, filled with mysteries waiting to be discovered. Despite the unfamiliarity, you’re drawn to dive deep and lose yourself in the depths of his gaze.
“Do you remember our promise?” he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble, yet resolute. Seeking solace in the familiarity of your gaze, his words carry the weight of cherished memories and unspoken vows.
“Of course,” you respond with a bittersweet smile, lifting your hand and extending your pinky finger. “I’ve never forgotten you, Jungkook,” you affirm, the weight of years past and promises kept evident in your touch.
He hums a melody, its tune unfamiliar yet strangely soothing, and in that moment, you find solace in the sound of his voice, the melody a balm to your racing heart. “I’ve never forgotten you either, ___,” he confesses, his words carrying the weight of shared memories and enduring connection.
With his other hand, he reaches out, extending his pinky finger to intertwine with yours, creating a connection that feels like two worlds colliding, merging into one. It’s a moment of transcendence, where past and present converge, binding you both in a promise that spans the depths of time.
“I never got to tell you this on that day, and it has haunted me since, but I like you,” His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and a vulnerability that echoes through your soul. As he gazes into your eyes, it feels like he’s peeling away layers of your being, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, despite the fabric that shields your skin. With each moment, he draws nearer, his touch a gentle anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you.
“I like you too,” your confession hangs in the air, suspended between you like a delicate thread woven with anticipation and longing. With every word, you feel the weight of your emotions, amplified by the closeness of his presence. As your breath brushes against his skin, you can almost taste the bittersweet tang of desire mingled with the salt of the ocean breeze.
In his embrace, you feel cherished, cocooned in a world where only the two of you exist. His gaze, laden with affection, dances between the depths of your eyes and the soft curve of your lips, a silent symphony of desire. You catch the subtle flicker of his pupils as they dilate, mirroring the fluttering of your heart. A fleeting gesture, your tongue brushes against your lips, a subtle invitation to bridge the divide between longing and fulfillment.
In the hushed sanctuary of the moonlit cave, time seems to stretch into a languid dance, enveloping you both in its tender embrace. The world outside fades into a distant murmur, leaving only the rhythmic melody of your shared breaths echoing off the rocky walls. Your gaze descends to the plush pinkness of his lips, a tantalizing invitation begging to be explored. A surge of curiosity and desire courses through you, igniting a tempest of longing as you ponder the intoxicating possibility of tasting his kiss.
“Can I kiss you?” His question hangs in the air like a delicate promise, and you feel a rush of anticipation flooding your senses, the tension between you crackling like electricity. His words, soft yet laden with unspoken longing, send a tremor of excitement coursing through your veins. In that suspended moment, you find yourself caught in the irresistible pull of his gaze, his eyes a sea of swirling emotions mirroring your own. With a silent plea echoing in your heart, you grant him permission with a subtle nod, your breath hitching in anticipation as you yearn for the moment when his lips will meet yours.
His tattooed hand, warm and possessive, slides from your cheek to the back of your neck with a gentle urgency, pulling you into him as if he’s afraid you might slip away. When his lips meet yours, it’s like a collision of stars, soft yet electric, igniting a wildfire of sensation that courses through your veins. As he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort, you’re overcome with a rush of warmth and affection. With a soft chuckle escaping your lips, you reach for him, fingers intertwining with the soft strands of his hair as you draw him closer. The second kiss is a revelation, a crescendo of desire and longing that leaves you breathless and craving more. His hum reverberates against your lips, grounding you in the intensity of the moment, like a lifeline in a sea of swirling emotions.
You draw back reluctantly, a sigh escaping your lips as you feel the bittersweet ache of parting. “It’s getting late,” you murmur, the weight of reality settling in as you remember your responsibilities waiting beyond the cave’s embrace. 
“When will I see you again?” the question hangs between you like a delicate thread, woven with hope and uncertainty, longing for reassurance in the face of impending separation.
A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and he licks his lips with a playful flick of his tongue, relishing the way your senses are all tangled up in a whirlwind of emotions—frazzled yet utterly blissed-out in his presence.
“Soon,” he assures with a reassuring smile, his touch lingering for a moment longer as his thumb caresses your lip, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. “You can always find me here, or just listen for my voice. But duty calls back home. I’ll return, I promise.” With that, he pulls away, releasing you from the spell of the moment, but leaving behind a promise that lingers in the air like the echo of his voice in the cave.
Reluctantly, you rise, dusting off imaginary particles from your skin with a sweep of your hands, lingering in the moment a bit longer. With a soft smile, you regard him, your eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and longing. 
“You really have a beautiful voice, Jungkook,” you murmur, the words carrying a weight of sincerity and admiration, like a gentle breeze in the tranquil cave.
With a smile that seems to illuminate the entire cave, he gracefully immerses himself in the water, causing it to dance and ripple around him like liquid poetry in motion.
“I can’t wait to see you again,” you express, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and affection, each word carrying the weight of the emotions you hold for him.
“I’ll be counting the moments until our paths cross again,” he murmurs softly, his words carrying on the gentle breeze as he fades into the depths below, leaving you with the lingering promise of his return.
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Jungkook had indeed kept his word. Though you trusted him, a small part of you feared you’d never see him again. Yet, the very next day, he reappeared in the cave, serenading you with a song as you basked in his presence. This enchanting ritual has continued every day for the past two weeks, each encounter deepening your bond and making the fear of losing him fade away.
So far, your encounters have been limited to kisses, which you absolutely love—his lips are incredibly soft. Yet, lately, you’ve found yourself yearning for more. The stress of your upcoming housewarming party, which you’ve shared with Jungkook, isn’t helping. You think that letting loose with him might be just what you need to de-stress.
“Why are you having this party again if you don’t really want to?” he asks, genuinely curious. He can’t fathom why you’d willingly burden yourself with the hassle of pleasing others when it clearly brings you no joy.
“I guess it’s just expected of me,” you muse, looking down at the sparkling water as his tail gently plays with it, creating ripples. “My friends are coming, my parents too. They haven’t seen my new house yet.”
He smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “It’s nice that you’re doing this for them, but it sounds like you’re forcing yourself. That makes me a bit sad.”
You shake your head and put up your hands in defense. “Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s not like I dislike it completely. It’ll be nice seeing my friends again.” You pause, a sudden idea lighting up your face. 
“You could also come, you know?”
His face brightens momentarily, but then he slumps down in the water, looking a bit deflated. “I’d love to come, but I’m not sure I can. My hyungs need my help in the village; one of them has been missing for days, and we’ve been searching for him without luck…” His voice trails off, a mix of concern and disappointment etched on his face.
You feel a twinge of sadness for him and say softly, “I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I hope you find him soon. Just know you’re always welcome, no matter when.”
His smile returns, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he speaks. “Thanks. Jimin usually never wanders off, that’s why we’re afraid something has happened to him.”
You envelop him in a hug, offering what comfort you can, despite not knowing Jimin. You silently pray for Jimin’s swift return—after all, you understand more than most the ache of missing a piece of your heart.
A few days later, the soft strains of music fill your home, weaving through the laughter and chatter of old and new friends alike, and the comforting presence of your parents, whose faces you haven’t seen in what feels like an eternity.
As you mingle with your friends, catching up on stories and laughter, time seems to dance away unnoticed. It’s only when the gentle kiss of the evening breeze starts to nip at your skin that you realize how long you’ve been engrossed in conversation with your colleague out on the terrace. With a shared chuckle at the sudden chill, you both retreat inside, seeking the warmth of good company and lively conversations.
Her joke evokes laughter from you, but the moment is abruptly interrupted by her sudden silence, drawing your attention to where her finger points. In the kitchen, your parents stand, their faces alight with smiles, engaged in conversation with a tall, dark-haired man whose locks curl gently at the ends.
Her curiosity piques as she nudges you with a mischievous grin. 
“Who’s that hot man with a tattooed arm over there talking with your parents?” she asks, her voice tinged with intrigue, prompting both of you to draw nearer to the kitchen.
As you draw closer, disbelief gives way to certainty: it’s unmistakably Jungkook standing beside your parents.
“___! You never mentioned Jungkook’s return! How long has it been, twenty years?” your mother exclaims, her smile radiant as she pinches Jungkook’s cheek affectionately, treating him like a long-lost child returned home.
Your dad’s eyes sparkle with the warmth of a long-awaited reunion, as if he’s just rediscovered an old friend, and you can’t help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.
Your mother reaches out to embrace Jungkook, her petite frame enveloped by his much larger one, but he indulges her with a warm hug, wrapping her in a comforting embrace.
With a playful grin, your friend nudges you, her eyes darting between you and Jungkook, a knowing glint sparkling in them. “Who is this handsome man?”
As you break from your reverie, you manage a sheepish grin, your voice carrying a hint of nostalgia and excitement. “This is Jungkook, my childhood friend. We go way back.”
“He’s hot,” your friend’s observation cuts through the air with a boldness that makes you chuckle, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she sizes up Jungkook.
Your mother’s laughter fills the room, a warm melody that dances around the air. “He really is! You’ve really outgrown that cute bunny phase you had,” she teases, her fingers playfully squeezing Jungkook’s rather impressive biceps.
“Mom! You’re embarrassing me,” you groan, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation painting your voice as you reach for Jungkook’s hand, eager to escape the teasing clutches of both your parents and your friend.
As you pull him away, Jungkook chuckles softly, following you into the living room where you both sink into the inviting embrace of the couch.
Amidst the chatter filling the room, engaging in conversation with Jungkook proves challenging, his words often drowned out by the lively voices of others around you.
“Would you like to step out for a bit? Take a stroll along the beach?” he proposes, his gaze alight with anticipation, as if the idea itself holds a promise of something wonderful.
With a nod, you clasp his hand, a silent agreement passing between you. But before you step out into the night, you make a quick detour to your friend, informing her of your plans for a seaside stroll.
She scrutinizes you with the intensity of a hawk, then delves into her purse, emerging with something in hand. “Here,” she says, passing it to you. 
“I have a feeling you might need this.”
You accept the small foil packet, its presence alone sending a jolt of recognition through you. Your cheeks and ears ignite with heat, and you hastily tuck it into your jeans pocket, your gratitude tinged with embarrassment. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice slightly breathless.
As you begin to turn away, she shoots you a playful wink, causing you to release a sigh of embarrassment, your cheeks still flushed with color.
Outside, you stroll barefoot on the sand, reveling in the moment with Jungkook by your side—both of you connected to the earth beneath your feet. His presence captivates you, his figure tall and striking against the backdrop of the beach. Shoulder-length hair dances around his face, adding to his allure. With each step, you admire his physique—broad shoulders tapering to a defined waist, muscular thighs moving with purpose. Clad in a white tank top, his biceps speak of strength, while his snug blue denim jeans accentuate his powerful legs, showcasing a silhouette that commands attention.
His human form is undeniably beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the breathtaking splendor of his merman form. This realization brings a soft smile to your lips, and a blush warms your cheeks.
You walk with him along the beach, your hand nestled comfortably in his, the silence stretching between you like a warm blanket. It feels like an eternity before he clears his throat, a deep rumble that breaks the quiet. “Do you want to go to the cave?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hopeful anticipation.
You look up at him, captivated by the soft, teasing smile playing on his lips. “Yeah,” you agree, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.
“Cool. I know a way to get there from land,” he says, pulling you along the shore. Your feet sink into the cool sand with each step, the waves gently lapping at your ankles as you follow him, while he makes an effort not to let the seawater touch him.
“You do? I thought it was only accessible from the sea,” you chuckle, feeling the excitement build as he leads you closer to the rocky formations along the cliffside.
“I know a lot of hiding spots,” he giggles, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he reveals a narrow, almost hidden entryway in the cliffside, just big enough for him to slip through.
You step into the familiar cliffside cave where you’ve been meeting for the past few weeks. Nestling into the small sandy patch, the only section not enveloped in stone, you feel a comforting sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.
“Much easier to talk in here, huh?” Jungkook chuckles, leaning back against the cave wall. The gentle echo of his laughter fills the space, making it feel cozier. You nod, a soft, airy chuckle escaping your lips as a blush warms your cheeks. Sitting beside him, the intimacy of the cave amplifies every shared glance and whispered word.
You look up at him, your eyes fluttering bashfully. “I don’t really want to talk anymore,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh, I thought you wanted to talk,” he says, his voice deflating as a pout forms on his lips. That’s when it hits you—he has no idea how much you crave him, how badly you want to feel him, everywhere.
You turn your body towards his, your hands caressing his face as you pull his face towards yours. “I want to do more than talk,” you quip, your voice small but steady. “I want to kiss you and so much more.”
Something seems to snap in him, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his cheeks. He moves his face closer to yours, your noses almost touching. “So you want more?” he teases, his voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.
“Yes,” you breathe, the word escaping in a breathless pant as you close the distance between you. Your lips meet his in a fervent, passionate kiss, igniting a fire that blazes between you. Your hands hold his cheeks in place, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, as he responds eagerly, deepening the kiss with his tongue, sending waves of desire coursing through you.
When you part, both of your eyes are wide, pupils dilated with desire, reflecting the intensity of the moment.
“I want you, Kook,” you plead, your breath mingling with his, your foreheads pressed together in an intimate connection.
Your fingertips trace the lines of his body, dancing over the contours of his chest until they halt at the brink of his jeans.
“I want you too, ___, but I—” he pants, his words cut short as you start to rub your hand over his clothed dick, eliciting a deep, gratifying groan from him.
You keep teasing him with your hand, feeling the growing hardness beneath your touch, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. You lick your lips, watching as his face contorts in pleasure, every subtle reaction driving you wild with desire.
“Hmm, you like it?” you ask, positioning yourself directly in front of him, locking eyes as you continue your ministrations.
“Yes, but I—” as your hand maintains its pressure on his crotch, he stammers out his words, his voice a mixture of desire and hesitation.
“What, are you a virgin?” your playful tease hangs in the air, accompanied by a soft chuckle, as you lean in closer to him, your breath warming his ear with your whispered words.
“No!” His response is hurried, almost defensive, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. “I’ve just never done it with a human before…” he confesses, his tone a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity.
You draw back slightly, scanning his face, catching a glimpse of uncertainty mingled with desire flickering in his eyes.
“I can guide you through it, show you what feels good. Trust me, you’ll enjoy every moment,” you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of confidence and anticipation.
“I mean, Jin hyung already told me how it works,” he pants, his gaze fixated on your hand as it works its magic, his hips instinctively moving in rhythm, “I’ve touched myself before, out of curiosity, but I’ve never had sex with a human before.”
Your expression softens, recognizing that this is a new experience for him, so you resolve to take it slow.
“Mermen don’t exactly have dicks like humans,” he chuckles, his movements against your hand betraying his eagerness for friction.
You lean in again, teasing him, “How exactly do merfolk have sex?”
He chuckles, smirking at you, “Well, it’s more like a mating ritual, honestly. There’s some swimming around, almost like a dance, rubbing against each other. It’s quite primal and intimate, in its own way.”
You frown, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief evident on your face. “That’s it?”
He nods, his expression both amused and sincere.’
“No teasing? Release of bodily fluids? Making out? Sticking things into holes?” you list, your expression a mix of incredulity and disappointment. God, you really do like sex and all of the things you just listed. Mermaid intercourse sounds slightly boring in comparison.
“No sticking things into holes sadly—except for tongue kissing,” he chuckles, masking his disappointment with a playful grin, though you sense a tinge of longing in his eyes.
“But you get to try that now, okay? Then you can tell all your friends how it is to have sex with a human,” you smile, feeling a bit mischievous, your words laced with humor as you try to lighten the mood after the serious discussion.
“Many of them have already experienced it,” he laughs, his tone tinged with excitement and a hint of anticipation, “My hyungs have done it a lot, and I can’t wait to experience it myself.”
“They sound like they’ve had their fair share of adventures,” you chuckle, stealing a glance downwards, noticing the telltale strain in his pants.
He chuckles, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “Can we talk about something else? Because I’m having trouble focusing on your hand when I’m talking about my friends.”
With a playful laugh, you grasp the situation and share a knowing glance. Eager to reignite the passionate spark between you, you playfully unzip his pants, only to discover he’s gone commando—a thrilling surprise that sets your heart racing and ignites a rush of desire.
A mischievous grin plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow, your fingers wrapping around his cock teasingly. “No underwear?” you jest, a playful twinkle in your eye, as you give him a tantalizing stroke, feeling his anticipation building with each caress.
With a low, guttural sound, he shifts his weight, arching his back to assist as you peel off the remainder of his jeans. Your fingers eagerly find their way back to his dick, marveling at its girth and length, already imagining the delicious stretch it will bring. The anticipation sends shivers down your spine.
His cock is long— longer than average, and thicker too. The tip is red, a small bead of precum gathered at the top, just waiting to be tasted by your tongue.
He teases you, his hips surging upward as if to test your grip. “Do you like it?” he murmurs, a hint of mischief in his voice, his eyes locking onto yours as he waits for your response.
You meet his gaze with a smirk, your fingers still wrapped around him. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” you concede, your voice laced with anticipation. Honestly, you don’t care much about the size of it, more about how good he is at using it.
He watches you intently, his gaze probing yet curious. “Have you had a lot of sex before?”
You nod and give him a small smile.
You lean in closer, your eyes locked with his, conveying your sincerity and eagerness. “I have, but let’s focus on us now,” you whisper, your voice tinged with determination. “I want to make you feel good, and then you can return the favor. How does that sound?”
With a tantalizing smile, you moisten your lips before lowering them to his cock. The instant contact makes him quiver, a reaction that only fuels your desire. You start by tracing him with your tongue, savoring his taste, before enveloping him completely in your warm, wet mouth.
He utters adorable, needy moans as your mouth envelops him, his reactions spurring you on as you slide up and down, sucking him with fervor and intensity.
His hands find your hair, gripping it gently at first, then with a bit more urgency, but you don’t mind one bit. Instead, it fuels your desire, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to please him further with every movement.
The echoing sounds of slurping fill the cave, reverberating off the rocky walls, creating a symphony of desire. Each wet, sucking noise only fuels your arousal further, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with every passing moment.
“Shit. I’m feeling like I might come already,” he pants, his fingers tightening in your hair, a futile attempt to control the rising tide of pleasure coursing through him.
You release him with a soft pop, panting as you meet his pleading gaze, a flicker of desire mirrored in your eyes, silently promising more to come.
“It felt really good, but I really want to know what it feels like being inside your pussy, please,” his plea echoes through the cave, his eyes pleading like a desperate puppy, and you can’t help but chuckle at his adorable earnestness, your own desire kindled by his longing gaze.
“Of course. I want to have you inside of me too,” you pant, urgency seeping into your voice as you hastily pull your shirt over your head, revealing the lace of your bra to him, a silent invitation in the flickering light of the cave.
“You’re stunning,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe and genuine appreciation. “It’s not just your body that I love, but your entire essence, your personality—it’s all so captivating.”
Your smile widens, mirroring the warmth and affection swelling in your chest as you gaze at him. As you begin to unbutton your pants, a thought nudges its way into your consciousness. Retrieving the foil packet from your pocket, you place it on the ground between you, a silent promise of the intimacy about to unfold.
Jungkook’s gaze flickers to the foil packet, curiosity sparking in his eyes like a flame catching kindling. “What’s that?” he asks, his voice laced with intrigue and a hint of anticipation, as if sensing the gravity of the moment wrapped in that small, innocuous package.
You chuckle softly, charmed by his innocence, realizing he’s never encountered a condom before. It’s endearing, really, how sheltered his underwater world has been.
“It’s a condom. It’s for protection,” you explain gently, feeling a mix of tenderness and amusement at his innocence. “You put it on your cock. I’m on birth control, but it never hurts to be extra safe,” you assure him, deciding to take the lead and offer to help him put it on.
As you attempt to open the foil packet, he intercepts your movement with a smirk, halting you with his hand. “Not now. I want to taste you first. Can I? And will you let me know if you like it or not? I’ve never tried it before,” he trails off, his voice soft and endearing. It’s moments like these that make you realize just how charming he can be.
His hands find purchase on your hips, and with a deliberate tug, he pulls your pants down, leaving you bare in your underwear. His gaze travels over you, from your eyes down to your dripping cunt, igniting a fire of anticipation in your core.
“Your panties are wet.” 
You chuckle in response, a mix of excitement and nervousness dancing in your eyes as you obediently part your legs wider, inviting him in with a playful yet anticipatory smirk.
“That’s because I’m aroused,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper as his touch sends a delicious shiver down your spine, your anticipation building with every electrifying caress of his hand against your hip bone and down to your pussy.
“You can remove it,” you whisper, your voice husky with desire, as you arch your back, offering yourself to him, a silent invitation. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slides your panties down your legs, revealing your glistening pussy to the dimly lit cave, the anticipation thickening the air between you.
He lowers himself between your parted legs, his touch sending shivers up your spine as his hands explore the soft skin of your thighs, eliciting playful giggles from your lips. With agonizing slowness, his fingertips inch closer to your aching pussy, your body aching with desire, yearning for his touch. You find yourself silently begging for him to make contact, your entire being consumed by the anticipation of his caress.
“Please, Jungkook,” you implore, your voice trembling with urgency and longing, “I need to feel you, your touch—whether it’s your fingers or your mouth, I don’t care. Just touch me.”
As he gazes into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and understanding, he delicately traces his index finger over your sensitive clit. The sensation overwhelms you, eliciting a strangled gasp of his name, your body responding eagerly to his touch.
With each gentle stroke of his finger over your clit, you can’t help but release a soft moan, your body instinctively responding to his touch. Sensing your pleasure, he continues, his movements becoming more confident as he circles and rubs your clit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
As your breath quickens and your body trembles with anticipation, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain control, your legs quivering with need. Sensing your urgency, he gently guides your legs apart with his free hand, allowing him better access to your pussy.
He watches, entranced, as your clit pulsates, the rhythmic flexing and relaxing of the muscle a mesmerizing sight. The vision of your arousal sends a jolt of desire through him, making his own need painfully evident.
“You can put a finger in,” you pant, your voice trembling with need, eyes wide and pleading for more.
He looks up, his eyes searching yours, “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with both concern and anticipation.
You bite your bottom lip, a soft groan escaping your throat. “Yes, Jungkook,” you breathe, your voice laced with desperate longing, “I want your fingers inside me now.”
With the hand that was expertly teasing your clit, Jungkook slides it down to your slick folds, marveling at how you glisten in the moonlit cave. He gently positions his index finger, then slowly, almost tantalizingly, pushes it inside you, making you gasp at the intimate sensation.
The pleasure hits you instantly, a surge of desire overwhelming your senses. You crave more, each second intensifying your need, as if every nerve in your body is crying out for him.
“Wow,” he breathes, mesmerized by the sight of his finger slowly disappearing into your hole, his eyes wide with awe and desire.
Mesmerized, he begins thrusting his finger in and out of you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your sweet noises of pleasure fill the cave, encouraging him. After a moment, he looks up, his voice husky with desire, “Can I add another one?”
You nod, and another finger slips into your pussy, stretching you just a bit more. The sensation is intoxicating, yet you crave so much more. You’re trying to maintain control, to let him take his time, but the need inside you is almost overwhelming.
“Please,” you whisper urgently, your voice trembling with desire, “add a third finger and use your other hand to play with my clit.” You crave the sensation, the stretch, the readiness for his cock, your need palpable in every word.
With a swift motion, you unhook your bra, allowing it to slip to the ground. His movements pause as his gaze fixes on your exposed chest—your nipples standing pert and proud, a silent invitation to his touch.
As his gaze reluctantly leaves your exposed chest, he resumes his attention on you, the third finger sliding into you with a gasp of pleasure escaping your lips at the welcomed stretch. His thumb, slick with your juices, finds your clit once more, initiating a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Breathless and on the edge of ecstasy, you manage to muster the question, your voice filled with awe and admiration, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? Because you’re really good at it.”
His laughter dances in the air, a melody to your unraveling pleasure. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a perplexed frown until you see him drawing nearer, his tongue tracing the contours of your pussy.
You surrender to the ecstasy, tossing your head back as waves of pleasure wash over you, relishing the sensation of his velvety tongue caressing every contour of your quivering folds and sending electric pulses of delight through your clit.
With a hunger that matches your own, he envelops your clit, his mouth becoming a vortex of ravenous need, as he sucks and teases, drawing forth the essence of your desire and savoring every drop of your arousal with a fervent devotion.
With an almost expert touch, he draws your sensitive bud into his mouth, creating a vortex of sensation that sends electrifying pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. Each suction brings you closer to the edge, igniting a fiery intensity that threatens to consume you entirely. As you pant and gasp, your senses reel with the impending release, the anticipation coiling tighter within you like a spring ready to unleash its pent-up energy.
Your fingers trace the curves of your breasts, igniting a trail of sensation that sends shivers down your spine. With each touch, you feel the heat building within you, a primal urge demanding release. Your fingertips dance over your nipples, teasing them to attention, and you can’t help but respond with a symphony of gasps and moans.
Jungkook’s gaze flickers up, drawn to the symphony of your movements, your gasps and moans orchestrating a melody of desire. Yet, he remains steadfast in his task, his lips and tongue weaving a spell of ecstasy as he devours you with hunger, like he has done this many times before. It’s as though he’s an artist, each stroke of his tongue a masterpiece, each flicker of his lips a masterpiece of passion.
As your body arches and trembles with impending release, you’re acutely aware that the peak of ecstasy is just within reach. “Jungkook,” you gasp, your voice a fervent plea, “I’m... I’m going to come.”
With his deep chuckle vibrating against your most sensitive spot, you’re overcome by the intoxicating blend of sensations. In an instant, your world explodes into a symphony of pleasure, your fingers tangling in his ebony locks, anchoring you to the dizzying whirlwind of ecstasy as he eagerly savors every drop of your essence.
With a gentle and tender gaze, he pulls away, his features adorned with a shimmer of your essence. “Was this alright?” he murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, yet his eyes brimming with warmth and adoration. With a gasp of disbelief, you draw him into a passionate kiss, savoring the mingling taste of yourself on his lips, yet your heart races with an electric thrill. “It was perfect,” you murmur against his mouth, your voice laden with sincerity and longing, sealing the moment with fervent intensity.
“Now you can fuck me,” filled with need, you voice your desire, urgency coloring every syllable, as you reach for his shirt and hastily pull it over his head. Your fingers fumble with the foil packet, opening it with a sense of anticipation, before your hand finds his still-hard cock.
With careful precision, you slide the condom over his dick, a tangible barrier between you and raw desire. As you spread your legs, creating space for him, his cock hovers tantalizingly close to where you ache for him most. In his gaze, you detect a mixture of longing and uncertainty, silently seeking your permission to proceed.
You take control, grasping his cock firmly and guiding it to your eager entrance. With a whispered instruction, you urge him to press forward, “Push a little, but slowly.”
As he nods in agreement, a determined glint ignites in his eyes. With gentle yet purposeful movements, he starts to ease his cock into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, each inch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, stretching you deliciously with every inch gained.
His breath hitches, voice laced with wonderment, “Wow. You’re so tight,” he pants, his words punctuated by the sensation of more and more of his dick disappearing into the velvety depths of your cunt, a symphony of pleasure enveloping you both with each inch he claims.
“God, you’re big,” you pant back, a mixture of excitement and anticipation lacing your voice as you try your best to relax, welcoming the exquisite stretch and fullness as he almost fills you up, every inch of him stirring a delicious ache within you.
Finally, he’s completely inside, and you release a shaky breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding, feeling every pulsing inch of him deep within you, a rush of sensation flooding your senses as you revel in the delicious fullness he provides.
“You can move now,” you encourage him with a smile, eager anticipation shimmering in your eyes as you invite him to explore the depths of pleasure with each rhythmic thrust.
“How? You’re hugging me so tight,” he groans in pleasure, his voice tinged with uncertainty, as if seeking your direction amidst the waves of sensation coursing through both of you.
“Feel how we fit together?” you whisper, your hands tenderly guiding his hips. “Just move your hips—back and forth. Follow the rhythm of our bodies, and trust me, it’ll be amazing.”
“I already feel so good.”
He starts with a gentle push, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. With each thrust, he delves deeper, igniting an electric dance between your bodies, and you can’t help but moan in bliss.
“Don’t stop—faster,” you urge him on, and he responds with a surge of intensity, each thrust echoing in the cavern, a symphony of desire enveloping you both.
Your hands abandon his ass and hips once you’re satisfied he’s got the rhythm, his every thrust hitting that perfect spot, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.
You moan his name, the sound igniting a primal response in him, his grunts mingling with your name, creating a symphony of passion in the cave.
“Keep going—harder,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire. With each thrust, he drives into you with unyielding force, your back meeting the rough cave wall, igniting a primal intensity that leaves you breathless. You know there’ll be marks and scratches later, but at this moment, all you care about is the raw, primal pleasure he’s giving you.
“Yes!” you scream, your voice echoing against the walls of the cave, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to clutch his strong biceps for leverage. The intricate tattoo sleeve he has on his right arm, flexing with the strength he puts into his thrusts. With each powerful movement of his hips, he plunges deeper into you, igniting a primal fire that consumes both of you in an insatiable frenzy.
“___. I think I’m going to come soon,” he confesses, his voice strained with pleasure, his brows furrowing in anticipation of the impending release.
“Me too. Shit. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you gasp out, your disbelief mingling with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. His skill and passion feel too seasoned for a first-timer, leaving you both questioning the truth of his innocence.
“I’m just a fast learner,” he teases, his lips finding solace on one of your exposed nipples, eliciting a fervent moan of his name from you. 
He sucks and nibbles at it, all while hitting your soft spot with precision. It’s an onslaught of sensation, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, threatening to unravel at any moment.
With a tantalizing pop, he releases your nipple, only to lavish the same attention on its twin. His kisses, licks, and sucking send ripples of pleasure through your body, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.
That’s it. You’re gonna come again.
“Fuck, Kook,” you cry out, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you as you surrender to the torrent of ecstasy, your pussy releasing your liquid and pulsating around his cock, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you with the breakneck speed he’s moving his hips at.
“Damn, how did you just get even tighter?” he groans, his voice strained with pleasure, his primal urges driving him to the brink of ecstasy. You feel his urgency, knowing he’s teetering on the edge of release.
“Fuck—” he pants, his breath ragged and erratic. Then, he stutters, his movements turning feral for a moment as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy, and he releases into the condom, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.
He stills inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he puts all of his weight into his arms. You gaze at him with a smile, your hand finding his cheek, gently pulling him closer to you, a silent reassurance in your touch.
You kiss him tenderly, the intimacy lingering in the air as your lips meet in a long and deep embrace. When you finally part, your breath mingling, you whisper softly, “I loved every moment of it.”
“Me too,” his voice carries a gentle exhaustion, mirroring the weariness you also feel settling in. You share a quiet moment, the weight of your shared passion and pleasure evident in the silence that follows.
As he gradually softens inside you, he withdraws gently. You swiftly retrieve the condom, deftly disposing of it with a practiced flick, tossing it into the depths of the cave, a silent testament to the intimacy shared in this hidden sanctuary.
“Can we do it again?” he pleads, his eyes ablaze with desire, each word heavy with anticipation, begging for another swim into ecstasy.
“Yeah, I’d love that,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his once more, the promise of another intimate time igniting a fire within you both.
“But maybe we can go for a swim first?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eyes as you feel your breathing gradually returning to normal.
His expression shifts to one of surprise. “You want to swim? I’ll revert to my merman form then…”
You gently grasp his cheek, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze echoing your sincerity. “I love you, whether you’re in your merman or human form. I love all of you. And yes, I want to swim with you. You know how much I love being in the water.”
As he eases into your proximity, he nods, inching towards the water within the cave. With a mesmerizing display, a cascade of sparkle and glitter dances in the air as his legs seamlessly meld into a majestic purple tail. Your jaw drops, captivated once again by the breathtaking sight of his merman form, each time feeling like the first time you saw him like this.
He gracefully glides into the water with a splash, and you eagerly trail behind, tentative at first, dipping your toes into the cool embrace, then succumbing to the gentle caress that envelops your entire naked form.
You swim alongside him, venturing beyond the confines of the cave, out into the vast expanse of the open sea. The ocean stretches endlessly, meeting the horizon in a seamless blend of moonlit waves. Above, the sky is a tapestry of stars, each one twinkling like a promise of infinite possibilities. Though your house is a distant silhouette against the shore, it fades from your thoughts in the enchantment of this moment.
As you glide through the water beside him, the gentle rhythm of his tail occasionally breaking the surface with playful splashes, you find yourself drawn to the mystery of his world. “I’d love to see your home someday,” you say, the words carried away by the ocean breeze, mingling with the soft lullaby of the waves.
“Yeah. I know a witch that can turn you into a mermaid, if you really want to,” he says with a big smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as they meet your surprised gaze, mirroring your astonishment with his own excitement.
Your eyes widen with wonder— the thought of becoming a mermaid, a cherished childhood dream, suddenly within reach. “I’d love that,” you breathe, your voice filled with an intoxicating mix of excitement and disbelief, as if daring the universe to make this fantasy a reality.
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→ Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are 100% made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work sometimes (the banners)).
© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰
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tigertales9 · 2 days
Text
Anticipation III
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Warnings: 18+ / Smut
Description: This is the third fic in the Anticipation mini-series (it started off as a oneshot, and here we are 😋)
Anticipation / Anticipation II
Time/Place: June 1, 2024 - Cincinnati, Ohio
A/N: In this fic, Joe & Reader are engaged & living together in a LTR.
Inspo pic: (screenshot from WLWT5 News)
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ETA: check out this post by @alertbooty to see the gray shorts in motion 🤤
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Saturday, June 1, 2024 - Cincinnati, Ohio
You come awake slowly, stretching your arms overhead while yawning, the smell of coffee in the air alerting you to the fact that Joe's parents are already up downstairs. They spent the night since y'all got home late last night from the charity golf event.
You check the clock on the bedside table -- 8:09 am -- before turning your head to look at Joe. He's sleeping peacefully, stretched out face down with the covers kicked off. You lean up on one forearm and look down at him in the diffuse morning light filtering in through the window blinds. His bangs are covering the half of his face that isn't buried in his pillow, and his lips -- plump, pink and slightly parted -- are the only facial features you can make out.
As you admire him, he gives a tiny snore and stirs in his sleep, pulling one long leg up in a way that draws your attention to his ass. He's dressed only in a pair of black boxer briefs, and you take your time letting your gaze run over the delicious dips and swells of his mostly-naked, muscular body, from his broad shoulders all the way down to his bare feet. Damn, you think to yourself, your eyes eventually settling on his bubble butt as you lick your lips and consider your options:
Option 1 - wake him up with a good morning kiss planted directly on one perfect butt cheek (which will def lead to other things)
Option 2 - let him sleep since he's clearly exhausted (y'all didn't get to bed until after midnight last night)
~ The Joe Burrow Foundation 2nd annual golf outing was held yesterday. You stayed behind the scenes to allow him and his parents time to shine without having to read a bunch of comments about you under the pics posted on the Foundation's social media pages; half the comments would say he can do better than you, and quite a few of the other comments would grossly objectify you, as usual. It was your idea to stay in the background, and Joe eventually agreed even though the reason for it aggravated him.
He was nearly asleep on his feet when y'all finally got home last night. A week of practice followed by an event where he had to give a speech and socialize with folks totally zapped his energy. He barely got his teeth brushed before stripping down to his undies and collapsing into bed. Luckily he had a shower between his round of golf and the after party. ~
I should let him sleep, you think with regret, your body already perking up at the thought of a naughty morning romp. You gently ease out of bed, giving one last look at his perfect ass before heaving a sigh and walking into the bathroom to start your morning routine.
~ ~ ~
Just over an hour later, you wave to his parents as they pull their car out of the driveway and head down the street, a knowing smile gracing your lips when you walk back in the house to the sound of Joe clomping down the stairs just as you shut and lock the front door.
"Perfect timing," you tease as he rounds the corner and walks toward you, his messy bedhead making you giggle as he shuffles up to you and leans down to wrap you in a tight hug.
"Thanks for handling them," he mutters, his hot breath tickling your neck as he plants a kiss in that sensitive spot just behind your ear.
You sigh as you lean into his warm embrace. "You're welcome," you murmur, relishing the feel of his big body enveloping you for several heartbeats before stepping back and looking up into his face. "I knew you needed extra sleep this morning since you had a hard week."
"You always know just what I need," he grins, yawning and stretching as you grab one of his hands and lead him into the kitchen.
"Speaking of that … have a seat," you state, pointing at a barstool at the kitchen island as you quickly pull items out of the fridge to make his breakfast.
~ ~ ~
Thirty minutes later, he's mopping up the last bite of his turkey bacon frittata with a slice of multi-grain toast as you finish your second cup of coffee.
"What do you have going on today?" you ask.
"Gonna rest for a couple hours then get a work-out in here at home. What about you?" he asks, glugging down his remaining juice before handing you the empty glass.
You grab the glass and reach for his empty plate, giving both a quick rinse before loading them into the dishwasher. "I'm going to Jade's birthday lunch."
He makes a stank face before speaking. "You just spent last Saturday and half of Sunday with the girls."
"Am I not allowed out of the house two week-ends in a row?" you tease.
"I mean … yeah. I was just hoping to take a nap with you after my work-out."
You grin as he shifts gears from stank face to pouty face; he knows you can't resist his pout. "We can still do that," you soothe. "I'll be home around 2:30 or 3:00. That's a perfect time for a nap, don't you think?"
"I guess." He fidgets with his wristbands for a bit while heaving a sigh, eventually shooting you a loaded look from behind the fringe of his messy bangs. "Are there gonna be any male strippers at the birthday party?" he asks in a pitiful tone, poking his pouty bottom lip out even farther for maximum effect.
"No, you goober," you chuckle, walking around the island and stepping in between his spread thighs when he spins his barstool to face you. "Just like there weren't any male strippers at the bachelorette party last Saturday."
"Mmm-hmm," he grumps, trying and failing to look mad as you lean forward and press kisses all over his face.
"Don't 'mmm-hmm' me," you scold playfully. "You saw all the pics so you know the vibe was pretty tame."
"And yet you came home all horny."
You raise an eyebrow at him while shaking your head. "I came home horny because you kept telling me all the filthy things you were gonna do to me the second I walked in the door."
"And did I deliver?" he asks, his faux-mad expression quickly replaced by a cocky grin.
"You always deliver," you purr, pressing a kiss on his lips before heading for the stairs. "I gotta get going," you state, throwing him a smile over your shoulder before you jog up the stairs to get ready.
~ ~ ~
later that afternoon (2:40 pm)
You pull your car into the garage and quickly hop out and enter the house, dropping your bag on the entry table before walking into the kitchen. You set a bakery box filled with three red-velvet cupcakes on the kitchen island before continuing into the living room, making note of the empty sofa. "Maybe he's already napping," you mumble, a grin gracing your lips as you spin around and head for the stairs.
You hear the shower shut off just as you enter the master bedroom; you quickly slip your wedge heels off before walking to the partially-open bathroom door, peeking in just in time to see Joe step out of the shower and grab a towel. You watch him for a minute, your gaze following the path of the fluffy towel as he dries himself off, your pulse reacting to the sight of his tall, muscular body as you push the door open and walk in.
"Hey," he greets, giving you a smile before turning to face the mirror. "How was lunch?" he asks, leaning forward to study his reflection as he tries to finger comb his damp curls into submission.
"Good," you answer, your gaze zeroing in on his plump ass as he continues to fiddle with his hair. You reach for the hem of your sundress and pull it off over your head before quickly unhooking your bra, both items hitting the floor just as Joe meets your eyes in the mirror. "Looks like dessert is gonna be even better," you purr, closing the distance between you before pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.
He makes a sound of approval as you slowly run the tip of your tongue down to the small of his back, lingering there for a bit before heading farther south. You drop to your knees as you grab two handfuls of bare butt, pressing kisses against his warm skin as you knead the perfect globes. "Your ass is a work of art," you breathe, leaning down to nip the fleshy overhang where his left cheek meets his upper thigh. "You drove me crazy yesterday in those gray shorts."
"You mentioned that a few times," he chuckles, spreading his stance as you continue to nip and suck his smooth skin, really getting into it as he wiggles his hips and presses back against your mouth. He usually only lets you do butt stuff in the shower, but you like the vibes he's giving off so you decide to chance it. You trail hot kisses over to his crack before leaning in and fluttering your tongue over his hole. "Oh my God!" he gasps, letting out a high-pitched giggle/squeal combo that has you smiling as you move your mouth back to his left cheek. "Relax," you soothe. "We'll do that later in the shower if you like."
"Sounds good," he murmurs, groaning low in his throat as you continue to suck love bites into his supple skin. You eventually reach a hand between his legs to massage his balls, rolling and gently tugging the sensitive flesh before reaching a bit higher to tease his erection, ghosting your fingertips over it for a minute before gripping it tighter; he bucks his hips into your touch several times before gently removing your hand and slowly turning to face you, hissing in a breath as you lean forward and lick the precum off of his tip.
"Are you wet for me?" he asks, his voice husky with arousal as you continue to tease him with your tongue.
"Soaking wet."
"Good," he states, reaching down to pick you up before striding into the bedroom; he sits you on the bed and slides your panties off before lying down beside you on his back, a cocky grin on his face as your gaze lands on his impressive erection. "Ride me," he orders, watching you closely as you straddle his hips. Chill bumps rise on your skin as you hover over him, his plump tip splitting you open just enough to make you whimper with anticipation.
"Hold on," he urges, wrapping his hands around your waist just before you sink down on him. You flutter your eyes closed, your pulse racing as your body prepares to be impaled on his thick cock. "Look at me," he commands," waiting until your eyes focus on his before speaking again. "Give me a taste," he purrs, licking his lips while flicking a glance down to your crotch, the look in his eyes when he meets your gaze again causing your core to contract.
You reach a hand down and slide two fingers through your slick folds a few times before bringing them up and rubbing your arousal over his lips; your eyes go wide when he grips your wrist and guides your fingers into his mouth, sucking them in as he maintains eye contact. The groan he lets out when he tastes you vibrates through your entire body as he uses his free hand to line his cock up with your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours as you slowly sink down on him.
He continues to suck your fingers as you take him deep, inch by inch, a shiver running through you at the feel of him stretching you open. Once he's fully seated, you lean down and reach forward, gripping the lowest slat on the headboard, the position pushing your breasts against his chest as you start to ride him. Your breath catches in your throat at the feel of his muscular chest brushing against your nipples as you move, the delicious sensation sending a sizzle of electricity straight to your clit and a rush of liquid heat into your core.
"I love how wet you get for me," he groans, wrapping his hands around your waist, his long fingers gripping you hard as he grinds you up and down on his erection, over and over, taking control of the pace as you hold on for the ride. Your sweaty palms slide against the headboard slat as you use it as leverage, your breath coming in quick little gulps and gasps as he pounds into you with a relentless rhythm.
'I need to slow down," he eventually grits out, slowing his thrusts until he finally stops while buried deep inside you. You take a minute to catch your breath before nuzzling your nose into his fragrant neck, pressing a kiss against the pulse throbbing there before kissing your way over to his mouth. He parts your lips with his tongue, groaning into your mouth when you open wide for him, his tongue stroking yours in a slow-burn kiss that makes your toes curl and your core contract.
He breaks the kiss and gives you a loaded look. "Did you just hit a Kegel on me?"
"No," you shake your head. "I mean … yeah … but not on purpose."
He raises an eyebrow at you, trying and failing to look stern as your core clamps down on him again. "I'm trying not to bust and you're hitting Kegels?"
"I can't help it," you whine, squirming against him as he tightens his grip on your waist to hold you still. "It's just my body reacting to how good you feel inside me."
"I know, baby, I'm just teasing," he admits, giving you a dirty grin as he runs his hands over you, rubbing your back, ass and thighs before sliding one hand between your bodies, his agile fingers teasing your clit as you start to move. "I can't stay still," you whimper, pulling most of the way off of him before slowly sliding back down, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting as you take him all the way to the base. "Just like that," he urges, "slow and deep."
You sit up a bit and press your palms flat against his chest as you continue to ride him, a delicious coil of tension building inside you as he adds a little more pressure to your clit while using his free hand to play with your nipples. You lose yourself to the feel of him inside you, to the feel of his talented hands teasing you, his husky voice urging you to ride him faster as you chase your pleasure. "Yeah, baby, just like that," he groans, pinching your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to set you off, immediately thrusting up inside you as your climax hits.
You throw your head back as the searing pleasure rips through you, a breathless cry escaping your lips as your core pulsates around him, rhythmically squeezing him as he continues to fuck you through the orgasm; the sounds he makes heighten your pleasure as he follows you over the edge, your body pulling every last drop of cum out of him before you collapse against him.
The next several minutes are filled with heavy breathing as you both try to catch your breath, giggling a bit when you finally roll off of him and collapse on the bed.
"That was intense," you pant.
"Beyond intense," he mutters, pressing a kiss on your shoulder before easing off the bed and walking into the bathroom; he returns a minute later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning you up before tossing the cloth back in the bathroom. He turns the ceiling fan on before crawling back into bed and pulling you close, your back to his chest.
"Nap time," he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair and taking a deep breath as you relax in his embrace.
~ ~ ~
Sunday, June 2, 2024 (the next morning)
You come awake slowly, stretching and yawning before turning your head to look at Joe. The bed beside you is empty, and you wonder where your man is for a sec before easing out of bed and shuffling into the bathroom, a grin spreading over your face when you see a note lying next to your sink. You pick it up and read it out loud.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty. I'm getting in a work-out at the facility. I'll be home early afternoon. Love you."
"Love you, too," you whisper, the grin never leaving your lips as you wash your face and head downstairs to make coffee.
~ ~ ~
Three hours later, you're adding a hefty pinch of red pepper flakes to a homemade bolognese sauce when your phone rings; you quickly wipe your hands off and check the display. "Hey babe," you greet.
"Hey," Joe answers. "Whatcha doing?"
"Making bolognese sauce for dinner tonight."
"Oh yum," he groans. "That's one of my absolute favs."
"I know," you giggle. "What's up? How was your work-out?"
"Good … except …"
"Except what?"
"Did you know you left a huge hickey on my left butt cheek?"
"Ummm, no?" you answer. "I mean, I guess I'm not surprised since I was all over it, but I didn't notice it last night, and you were gone this morning before I got up. Why do you ask?"
"It's just … a couple of the guys noticed it when I was changing in the locker room."
"Oh."
"I mean, it's no big deal. They just …"
"Just what?"
He sighs before answering. "They were teasing me a little bit. Like 'oh I didn't know y'all got down like that' kinda vibe."
"We're engaged to be married, babe," you giggle. "Pretty sure they know we have sex."
"True," he muses. "But one thing they said kinda stuck with me."
"What?"
"The main hickey is on my left butt cheek with a much smaller one on the right. So it's kind of out of balance."
"Well, we can't have that," you purr. "As soon as you get home, I'll even them out for you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you murmur. "This bolognese needs to simmer for a while before it's done."
"Be home in ten minutes," he chirps.
"Don't speed," you giggle, ending the call before placing a lid on your simmering sauce pot, turning the heat to low before heading upstairs.
-----------------------------
shoutout to @sofferaddict who gave me the booty hickey/locker room reveal inspo! 😘
175 notes · View notes
hanglimi · 3 days
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waltzes and bets - hanni
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TAGS - hanni x f! reader, just fluff, enemies to lovers, college!au
WORDCOUNT - 1.9k
WARNINGS - none that i know of?
A/N - this is written weirdly because i'm inconsistent and wrote this over the course of like, a full month, but i still hope you enjoy. also the ending is rushed i'm so sorry.
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hanni never thought her college life would be so dreadful.
that was a lie.
she knew that the workload would be painful, and the sleepless nights would definitely take a toll on her mental health, but she never knew that specifically, the roommate portion of her college life would be so dreadful.
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the door to their dorm slammed shut as her roommate decided to finally come in for the night. it had been at least three days since you had shown up to their dorm at all, and hanni was incredibly surprised to see you enter. you were definitely drunk–she could tell by the way your speech was slurred, and the overall appearance of your clothes–but it was still progress.
“are you drunk?"
you simply ignored her as you approached your room to sleep. considering it was 2 AM, she could understand your tiredness, but she still didn’t appreciate the silent response.
“bro!” she shouted, already infuriated with you despite it being 10 seconds of interaction in the past couple of days.
you turned to face her, and she didn’t realise how close you actually were to her face until she could smell the booze off your breath, and study each intricate detail of your eyes. flustered, she pushed you down onto the couch, and stood with her hands on her hips, keeping her distance from your sleepy gaze.
“do you ever stop to think about how I feel when you come here drunk, and after such a long time of not even being here at all?” hanni fumed, and she felt her face getting warmer at the thought of your inconsideration. “like, just think about it. you waltz in here at 2 AM, ignore my question, and-”
during her heated rant–practically monologue–you had knocked out on the couch, even going as far as snoring, quite loudly. she groaned, and almost slapped you awake, but decided against it. hanni quickly packed up her laptop she was using for studying, and eyed your form as she slowly walked towards her room. sure, she hated you, but wouldn’t it be the good thing to make sure you were comfortable as you slept?
she was just being nice, right? a nice, kind roommate, who deserved a better one.
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you groaned as you opened your eyes, your head already starting to hurt from the insane amount of alcohol you had taken the night before. you felt like shit, and unfortunately, it didn’t seem like you had woken up in yunjin's dorm like you had been doing the past few days, but instead at the actual dorm you were currently paying to live in.
your back cracked as you lifted your body up from the couch. you had fallen asleep on it last night after being lectured by hanni–something to do with waltzes, but you never really knew nor cared for what she complained about half the time anyways.
surprisingly, the back of your head didn’t seem to hurt as much as it usually did when you fell asleep on couches, and your body was warm compared to the temperature inside of the room. that’s when you noticed the pillow you had been laying on, and your blanket splayed across your body, half of it on the floor. obviously you weren’t drunk enough to forget to sleep comfortably, which was a win in your book.
you got up from the couch, glad that today was a saturday and you had no plans to attend with friends. the dorm was obviously empty, only the rare creak of the floorboards as you paced around, and you let out a content sigh. today was going to be your dedicated relaxation day–a day to destress before exam season officially started next week.
only an hour into your “spa day” and immediately after your shower you already heard a knock on the door. deciding to ignore it, you continued to sing along to your music as you got into comfortable clothes, hoping it was just a student forgetting their dorm room. unfortunately, your bliss didn’t last long as the person knocked again, quite forcefully this time.
“i’m coming!” you shouted, groaning as you slipped on a shirt and struggled to step into your pants while walking towards the front door.
you opened the door to an angry hanni, crossing her arms, and who you assumed to be her friend, minji–the girl she was constantly on a call with–stood behind her.
“what the hell took you so long?” your roommate grunted as she peered into the dorm, her face blanching at the mess you left on the floor. hanni was sure she had told you earlier this week to clean up the place because she had a friend coming over, and you couldn't even do that. she shouldn’t have bothered to trust you. she groaned and pushed herself through you to walk inside, motioning to minji to give her one second as she closed the door and stood in front of you.
“i told you I had someone coming over today and you still left this place a mess?” hanni’s voice got louder while she spoke, and you swore you saw smoke coming from her ears.
“i had better things to do,” you said simply, and grinned at her shocked face. she only got angrier at that. she raised her fist and hit your shoulder repeatedly, intending to bruise it, but you only laughed it off, letting her have her moment before pushing her backwards and creating space between the two of you again, slightly missing the warmth of her presence.
“i’m sure minji won’t even mind,” you drawled, walking towards the couch and sitting down, pulling out your phone, “it’s not like I threw up on the ground or something. there’s just some dishes in the sink and some clothes on the floor.” you finished, but it seemed as though she had already given up and gone to open the door to let her friend in.
“sorry about the mess, minji,” she said, venom still in her voice. “we’ll just hang out in my room today.”
you don’t know why, but your heart felt disappointed at the sight of her back turned, leaving you to sit alone in the living room. you’d have to check in with your doctor soon.
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two days had passed since the “clean up” incident–as hanni liked to call it– and she was still talking to her friends about it. she laid on her bed, propping her phone up to make sure the other 4 on the facetime could see her properly as she ranted.
“unnie!” hyein whined, accidentally dropping her phone on her face in the process. “you’ve been talking about y/n for two days straight!” she said, picking her phone back up and rubbing her face up and down.
“hyein! are you okay?” dani asked worriedly, as if she could reach through the screen to comfort her. hyein pushed her camera backwards to fit her hand into the frame, showcasing a thumbs up to the older girl.
“are you mad because she didn’t clean up, or because she didn’t listen to you?” haerin asked, staring intensely at her camera.
“w-what?” hanni sputtered, her cheeks burning red at the question. “obviously the former!” minji raised her eyebrows, and hanni wished it was possible to slap her through the screen.
“okay,” she dragged out the word, “maybe it was a bit of both.” the chaotic sound of four people speaking at the same time erupted from hanni's phone, and she quickly lowered her volume, considering the walls of the dorm were thin.
“guys, guys!” she yelled, trying to get the girls to calm down. “it’s not even about that, it's about the principle-”
“that's what they always say, but then in a couple of days i’ll see you guys kissing or something.”
“minji!”
-
the thing minji said stayed in hanni’s mind for longer than she would’ve liked, and now she couldn’t go a day without thinking about how it’d feel to kiss you. she would be lying if she said she wasn’t slightly attracted to you, but it definitely wasn’t as big as her friends were making it. unfortunately, it wasn’t helping that you seemed to be getting nicer over the course of the last couple of weeks. actually listening to her when she asked you to do something, making her favourite dessert while claiming you made “extras”, and things like coming in early and actually sleeping in the dorm.
“I hate changing these-” hanni grunted, the step stool underneath her wobbling slightly, “stupid batteries.” she glared up at the ceiling. “i can never reach the smoke alarm.”
“did it die?” you asked, yelling from your room.
“what do you think i'm changing the batteries for?” she deadpanned.
“i’m going to ignore what you said,” you made a face at her as you walked out of your room, obviously having just woken up from a nap. “just get down, i’ll do it.”
you walked up behind her, and held her waist, guiding her down the stool, reaching your hand out for the screwdriver and batteries. she blushed at the contact and coughed, handing them to you, her head moving upwards to watch you replace the device.
“sometimes i forget how short you really are,” you giggled as you stepped down from the stool, placing the tools in your hands on the kitchen counter.
“shut up,” she replied. her voice was still caught in her throat, the ghost of your hands still on her body.
you gave her a weird look at the sound of her voice before walking towards the fridge, opening it up and glancing over the limited options college students could afford. while you looked for something to eat, hanni stood still, watching your every move, thoughts invading her head.
you turned around to look at her, and cocked your head, your heart speeding up at the intense gaze she was staring at you with. it had taken you a while to realise you had slowly developed a crush on your roommate, and it took you an even longer time to confide about it with your friends. obviously they had teased you and laughed at you the first couple of days, but they had eventually decided to help you in the end–giving you tips on how to improve the strained friendship (if that's what you could call it) between you and the girl, and maybe get her to like you.
“why are you looking at me like that?” your voice came out quiet, and breathy, heat spreading up to your cheeks as hanni continued to stare straight at you.
“you’re actually kind of cute,”
the words came out mumbled, and even in the quiet of the room you couldn’t hear her.
“could you repeat that?”
“i said,” she started again, taking small steps towards you, cornering you in the kitchen,
“you’re actually kind of cute.” she ended, a smile on her face.
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“thank you guys for inviting me tonight, but it’s getting pretty late so i think i’ll take my leave-”
minji would’ve been ecstatic if someone had told her in advance that she’d have to see her best friend and her best friend’s roommate kissing on the couch, and being a little too close for comfort. just so she could have mentally prepared a little bit.
“minji!” hanni screamed as she fell from the couch and onto the ground, and you pressed a hand to your mouth to conceal your laughter, your emotions thoroughly confused on if you should be embarrassed, horrified, or cackling.
“i knew this would happen!” minji yelled as she covered her eyes with one hand, and used the other to guide her way to the door. “i’m telling everyone!”
“did your friends bet on us?” you asked, your eyes widening at minji's words. your emotions finally deciding to land on mortified.
“well, it wasn't necessarily a bet per say-”
“you are so annoying!”
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A/N : i'm not necessarily back, but i just wanted to get something out because i have been struggling through writer's block. everything is just kicking me down rn so if i go MIA again don't be surprised. 😭
anyways, hope you enjoyed this!
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undercoverpena · 3 days
Note
Hiya! Not sure if you take requests or not, ignore this if you don't! But I had an idea for Ghost. Where he has only ever seen the reader in army gear and she either goes undercover or she's heading home or some scenario like that and she's dressed all cute and nice like and he's shook at how stunning she is (he thought she was stunning in her gear but still) and maybe some spicy sexy times all pent up emotions and confessions etc etc ❤️❤️
I don’t usually, but what I can offer you is a stream of conscious thoughts? how does that sound. and it might allude to smut but not be written. but, hope you don’t mind. cod ghost x f!reader | wc: less than 1k
similar to how it had taken time for you to see him maskless, scars on his face—off-centred broken nose and the little chickenpox scar he’d picked when he was too little to know better—it had taken time for him to see you at home. at ease.
there’d been talks of drinks for something, and then it had been a plan. arranged to all meet in some place in some poxy village in the middle of england. all low ceilings and a jukebox that only played songs from over ten years ago.
you didn’t come with him. message lighting up his phone last night informing him you’ll meet him there. you’re coming with gaz. that it makes sense.
and it does.
doesn’t fucking mean he likes it.
i’d like to keep our fucking to just us, if possible.
that’s what you’d said. on base. hand around his cock, palm flat against the wall by the side of his head. lips slid so far into your cheek he wondered when he’d allowed the roles to reverse. when the tides had shifted and his heart clenched when you didn’t immediate radio back, when his bones in his hand had almost shattered when he’d spotted a cut on your cheek because some knobhead hadn’t had your six.
it’s healed now. slowly faded pack to perfection in the weeks on base—him spotting it each time you were beneath him, on top of him, pressed against the tiles in the showers as he shrouded you in shadows.
now, sat here with price in comfortable, perfect silence, he hears you before he sees you. that laugh. the one which paints him in strokes of joy, grows louder as the squealing wooden door opens, and his eyes flick to the side.
then, his head turns.
he knows it’s you. but it’s a you that makes him double take. one that fractures a part of his mind and then forces it back together all in the space of a second. because he’s seen you in jeans and a casual top—he’s not seen you in something tighter, more form-fitting, more black silk that drapes down over your skin like water.
fuckin’ hell drips from his lips in a whisper.
because he’s not sure he blinks. not sure he can get the idea out of his head of how you let him ruin you so often, when you could so easily make his heart stop. because you could. here, right now, in a different way than you do on base—when it’s all sharp orders, competent and quick-thinking. but both equal, both so powerful it knots something inside of him and makes him want to push you away.
he thinks your claws are already too deep.
thinks he already cares too much. and it breaks him. in the best way, more so when you nod at price, but head on over to him. not wanting another place than as close to him as possible.
a place, he realises, he wants you too from the way his shoulders sag into their natural position, and he begins breathing a little easier.
your elbows rest on the bar, shoulder almost brushing against him as price and gaz loudly begin a discussion about darts and you order a drink.
“I like you…”
“jumpsuit. pretty, but hard to pee in.”
“that come on the label?”
smirking, half what it usually is, but the half that’s just for him. “something like that.”
there’s a stone in your ring—the one on your middle finger. colourful, shiny. it catches the smoke-stained lights above the bar, making his eyes flick to your hand to see how your trailing them up and down your ice-filled glass.
“I don’t have a room tonight.”
“piss poor planning on your part, sergeant.”
snorting, burying it into your shoulder, lashes flicking up to him, the makeup around your eyes doing the utmost to make him struggle to look away from them.
“not feeling charitable, simon?”
“not just yet.”
nodding, your eyes flicking to the floor. a deep inhale and then exhale following, smearing over the crackling sounds of U2 singing their heart out.
“would it help to know I’ve drawn a ghost somewhere on my body in kohl?”
his jaw slides. eyes tearing from you, glass already at his exposed lips—cautious not to soak the balaclava in his drink. that’s when he feels your hand in his jacket pocket, burying something. a thing he doesn’t go to reach for immediately. hearing your bag click shut. a beat passing. a different kind of silence pulsing and throbbing between the two of you.
so when he does reach into his pocket, he knows instantly what it is. knows that texture. has been privy to it before.
“that’s what I was going to wear under this.”
“what you wearing now?”
meeting his gaze, sharp, as full of intent as it is when you’re in a war zone—when there’s mud on your face and determination in your eyes.
“nothing, simon.”
“nothing?”
“was worried about lines.”
he snorts. loudly. thinking christ as he drains the rest of his glass as the ice clangs.
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ilylovelyz · 1 day
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⍣ ೋ after the break up (prt 2)
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˚ · . kenma kozume, iwaizumi hajime, tsukishima kei, ushijima wakatoshi & atsumu miya (prt 1.)
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KENMA KOZUME — he feels really stupid. kenma does a lot after the breakup in order to distract himself. he buys more games, staying up until it's almost dawn. all of his attention goes into his video games and other devices that he completely stops taking care of himself subconsciously. it's only when he's lost almost 10 pounds is when he realizes how neglected he's become. it happened so fast it confuses him. why didn't you remind him to eat? or shower? oh.. right, it's because you broke up with him in the first place. still, he tries to forget. it's one night playing a game when he's dissociating randomly thinking about you does it all hit.
Super Mario Bro's plays in the background of his room. for once, his fingers are still but his eyes are locked on the pixilated screen in front of him. his eyes are red and dialted due to the bright screen contrasting to the dark dead of night. this game was very expensive, vintage and one of a kind—yet he's subconsciously stuck thinking about you.
did you know he thought about you so frequently? did you think the same of him? he drops the console, fishing his phone out from below him. his fingers tap on the keyboard, searching up your name into his contacts. he notices the last time you texted him was over a month ago. oh–, right. you broke up with him. right. kenma drops his phone back down, laying his face down into the same giant kirby plushie you bought him a long time ago.
a soft sniffle escapes through the thick material, mixing in with the almost taunting upbeat cartoon music.
IWAIZUMI HAJIME — your breakup was done on good terms. he was moving to the U.S., you were staying in Japan. neither of you knew the relationship wouldn't withstand such a long distance relationship so the relationship came to an end. the two of you still call and text over random things, but it's not like how things were before. time passes, and the two of you have less and less contact. iwaizumi is doing his weekly stalking of your Instagram when he realizes you've posted a photo of yourself.. but you aren't alone.
iwaizumi sighs with content when he's finally allowed to sit down, his legs sore from harsh muscle training. as always, he checks his phone. once he's finished going through his messages, ignoring almost everyone except his mom, he comes across your contact. the last you spoke with him was almost a year ago. he frowns, he wishes the two of you kept in contact, but you both were just so busy.
curiously, he indulges in his guilty pleasure and opens up instagram. as if on autopilot, he searches for your online handle. you both follow each other, but of course, never speak. he mindlessly scrolls through your highlights and posts, ending up on your most recent one. it's you. his heart flutters at the sight of you once more. even through a screen, you're still as beautiful as always. you're glowing and radiant as always.
his childish smile soon disappears when he realizes someone has their arm wrapped around you. a guy. a guy who is looking at you with the same loving look iwaizumi would give you long, long, ago. iwaizumi uninstalls the app shortly afterwards.
TSUKISHIMA KEI — he avoids you. he pretends you don't exist altogether. his heart cringes whenever he hears you around, regretting immensely when the two of you arranged your classes together in the previous year. it's childish. no, he's childish. especially because the breakup was more of his fault. still, he hides the fact that his heart is broken. he treats you like everybody else with such hate and bitterness, and only realizes how stupid he's being when it's too late.
"hey kei." you say, walking along aside the tall blonde. "do you want to work on the project together? sensei said that–," "i don't want to work with you." he says coldly. tsukishima doesn't even look to acknowledge you, staring straight forward as he walks. "o-oh, well i just y'know—" you stutter embarrassingly, "i just thought that because—" tsukishima finally stops in his tracks, swiftly turning to you, looking at you through clouded lenses.
"why do you keep on pestering me." his tone leaves you shocked. you can't even think of words to say, only able to let out incoherent stutters and mumbles. "all you do is stutter, it's annoying." tsukishima says nonchalantly, still looking at you with distain.
that seems to shut you up for now. tsukishima is relived when you do, if you talked to him anymore he probably would've accidentally spilled how he missed you. his relief is short lived when he sees the tears roll down your face and out of embarrassment, you quickly walk away from him. he's left standing still, gazing down at the floor. heart heavy and regretting.
USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he thinks he's alright but he doesn't realize he's distraught. he continues on with his life like normal, seemingly at peace and happy with whatever he's doing. but, he does have to admit, he's been feeling a bit more.. confused? more like agitated. outside of his calm demeanor to untrained eyes, he seems perfectly normal. but, to those who are close with them, they can see what's actually going on in that seemingly perfect head of his.
hazel eyes watch closely as you walk past. ushijima awaits for you to come up to him like normal, talk to him and pester him with a million questions once more. he hated when you pestered him, he wished you were more quiet and reserved... or did he? he's not sure. because now you are walking away from him, not saying a single word. hell, you barely acknowledge his presence. how do you not? he's everything you said catches your eye, tall and muscular build, with a handsome perfect face.
"y/l/n." he rumbles out. the boom of his voice finally catches your attention, finally spinning around to acknowledge him. you seem defensive, like a cornered cat, a single eyebrow quirking up at his call. "..ushijima-san?" his heart, for some reason, sinks into his gut with the formality use of his name. what happened to toshi? for once, his words are stuck in his throat and he struggles to come up with something to say.
seeing that he's yet to say anything, you hurry out of his presence, trying to be released from the gaze of the man you are forbidden to love. meanwhile, ushijima is realizing for the first time, that maybe he lost someone who he isn't fine with leaving.
MIYA ATSUMU — he's like a pitiful dog. he plays off the break up like it's nothing, even to your face, he just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something under his breath and walked away. despite the two of you dating for a year, going through so many things together, hell, he even lost his virginity to you, but he still acts like it was nothing.. but everyone can tell it's not. much to his annoyance, even his twin brother tells him to take it easy following the break up. but he's fine. it was nothing. he definitely doesn't search for you in the crowd during his games, nor does he get the random pang of forgetfullness after school as if he should be waiting for you. he's fine.
a girl comes up to atsumu after his game, batting her long eyelashes and pouting her lips. "can i get your number?" she asks, making her voice as smooth as possible. atsumu blinks at her with a blank face before turning his back to her, ignoring her entirely. he ignores her whines and curses of embarrassment, his eyes scanning the emptying crowd.
"shes not here, 'tsumu." he hears a familiar voice say. atsumu snaps his head back to the direction of the voice, seeing osamu standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes low and unamused. atsumu scoffs at his brother, "yah i know." the two of them wait in silence, but for what? what is he waiting for? suddenly, his ears perk up at a familar body frame, eyes darting to the source only to be severally disappointed with the sight of a person who looks like you, but isn't you.
"let's go home, 'tsumu." osamu says, walking past the blonde haired man. atsumu waits a couple more seconds, taking another quick scan of the crowd before he's hestiantly following his brother, shoulders low and eyes to the ground.
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greynatomy · 3 days
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so american
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mapi león x reader
pretend that spain drives on the left side of the road. some of the italicized dialogue is supposed to be the character speaking spanish
happy two years of writing woso fics to me!! thank you for reading!
———
Who knew going to Barcelona on a very last minute decision was the best choice you have ever made?
Coming off of an end of your United States tour high, you wanted to take some time for yourself after spending months with thousands of people. You’ve traveled the world doing these shows, but never had the time to enjoy these places. 
Touching down in Barcelona, you picked up your rental and made your way to your home for the next couple of weeks.
The first few days were nothing exciting. The beaches were beautiful, same with all the structures. You were very relaxed.
After a week of staying cooped up in your house, you thought it was time to see what Spain has to offer and you were not disappointed at all. You were a tourist and went to all the tourist spots, camera hanging around your neck. You were having the time of your life.
Wanting to end the day on a high, you saw a club you wanted to go to. Seeing there was a waitlist, you had your assistant call and hopefully get you on the list for tonight. 
Fortunately, she was able to.
Making your way to the bar, you had to squeeze through the people a bit.
“Vodka cran please!” 
Getting a nod, you turn away from the bar, scanning the whole place. There was a bit of everything, make-outs, shotguns, dancing, all on their own little groups, no one left behind. You felt like a bit of an outcast, but not for long.
“Hola, bebé.”
Turning to your left, you’re met with an arm littered with tattoos and a neck, another tattoo right on the center.
“Looks can be deceiving. Hmm.” 
“Like what you see?”
“Maybe.” You shrug, grabbing the drink placed in front of you. Looking up, you make eye contact, keeping it as you take a sip through your straw.
“You understand?” She was taken aback that you understood her. You shrug again, playing the mysterious card. She smirks at you, taking you by surprise when she drags you onto the dance floor.
The whole night was a blur, the next thing you remember is waking up to the sun shining through the curtains, the smell of something cooking in the air.
Making your way out of the unfamiliar room, still dressed in the clothes from your night out, seeing a person with a familiar arm littered with tattoos by the stove.
“Hola.”
Turning around, Mapi is met with your figure. “Ah, bebé! I made some breakfasts. Come sit.” You sat down awkwardly, not remembering much that happened after leaving the club. Mapi, seeing the look on your face, speaks up, “We didn’t sleep together.”
She thought that was the reason you looked uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the case.
“That’s a shame.” Her eyes almost popped out of their socket. “I’m just uncomfortable with wearing the same clothes from last night.”
“Oh!” She gets up, grabbing your arm and pulling you back into a different room. “Choose anything you’d like and the shower is over there if you want. I’ll leave you to it.”
You noticed how much clothes Mapi owned, excited to ‘borrow’ a few. After a very quick shower, the weather being a bit chilly, you grab the hoodie hanging off the back of a chair and put it on, walking out of the room.
Hearing footsteps coming closer behind her, Mapi turns but freezes at the sight of you. Her clothes pretty much almost swallows you whole.
“Bonita.” Mapi said softly to herself, not intending for you to hear. 
“You said to pick anything.” You shrug, going over to sit next to her.
There was a bit of an awkward silence that filled the room.
“I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my home.”
“Oh! No, not at all. I’m kinda glad you did.”
The awkwardness went away pretty quickly, talking like you’ve both known each other for a while. She drove you to all her favorite spots, bringing you to her favorite restaurants. before you both know it, it was time for you to go home.
Spending the past couple of weeks with Mapi was something you would never regret. You went to a couple of games incognito, she spent some days at your place, it was like you were both in your own little bubble, not wanting it it be popped.
It’s been two months since you got back home. You and Mapi haven’t lost contact, you’re still very much obsessed with her.
You just put on some comfy clothes after getting out of the shower when your doorbell rang. ‘Who the hell rings a doorbell an hour before midnight?’ you thought. Looking through the peephole, you couldn’t believe it.
Throwing the door open, you launch yourself into their arms, holding them tight.
“What are you doing here?” You mumble, voice muffled into her neck.
“It’s a surprise and you’re surprised.”
She was staying for two weeks, still recovering from an injury. You’ve gone back and created your little bubble and loved every second of it.
You’re driving to your destination, wanting to take a little trip.
“You’re so pretty.” Mapi mentioned, a hand resting on your thigh.
“What?”
“Wearing my clothes.”
Heat rises up to your cheeks, not able to stop how flustered you are. She sat in the passenger seat, feet propped up on the dash. It almost felt like you were part of a romance film.
It was a few days later, Mapi had gone back to Spain and you were hanging out at your house with a couple of people. There were games, food and drinks. You were a bit drunk and when you were drunk, you get talkative and giggly, even texting Mapi.
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“Did- did you know that Ma-Mapi plays soccer. Wait, no, foot bowl.”
You were hanging off of your friend as she tries to get you in bed.”
“Yes I do.”
“Oh! This is Mapi’s. She told me I can keep it.” You were now burying your face into a hoodie, taking deep breaths in. “Doesn’t smell like her anymore though.” You pouted, tears edging to fall out of your eyes.
“Okay! How about you go to sleep and you can call Mapi when you wake up?”
You were already out cold when she drapes the blanket over you. Walking back downstairs, she’s met by the rest of the group.
“How was she?”
“She’s out like a light and guess what?”
“What?”
“Talking about Mapi again.”
“Of course.”
Two weeks into the international leg of your tour, you’ve done something that only a few people knew. Having just released an album earlier this year, another song wouldn’t be expected so soon, but here you are on stage, talking to the audience.
“Okay. So as you all know, this tour is all about me spilling everything to you guys.” The whole room breaks out in cheers. “And since I am already spilling everything, I might as well spill some more!”
“As none of you know,” Everyone laughs. “This city of Barcelona has become one of my favorite places that I have ever visited because… I might’ve met someone here.” The crowd cheers. “And they may or may not be in the audience tonight.” The crowd cheers even louder. “Anyway, this was the easiest song I have ever written because, well you’ll know why once you hear it.”
In the crowd, Mapi was with the whole team of Barça, surprised with the little soft launch you did introducing a new song. You’ve both talked about possibly going public soon, but didn’t realize that you were going to do it at your concert in front of all your fans.
You grab your guitar from one of the stage hands, stepping in front of your microphone, grabbing it once the band starts to play.
Drivin' on the right-side road She says I'm pretty wearin' her clothes And she's got hands that make Hell seem cold Feet on the dashboard, she's like a poem I wish I wrote I wish I wrote
Mapi became speechless. Did you really write a song about her? Are you really singing it for everyone to hear?
“Dude you didn’t tell me she wrote you a song!” Alexia gave Mapi a little shove, a teasing smile on her face.
“This is news to me!”
And she laughs at all my jokes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of her To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere she goes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry her If she keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love
Mapi’s eyes look like they were about to pop out of their sockets. The two of you have never said the ‘L’ word to each other yet, but she’d be lying if she said there weren’t times where she almost said it.
God, I'm so boring, and I'm so rude Can't have a conversation if it's not all about you The way you dress, and the books you read I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when she's with me When she's with me
Ever since she left Los Angeles, Mapi has also been having a hard time falling asleep, so used to having you in her arms.
And she laughs at all my jokes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of her To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere she goes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry her If she keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-love
I apologize if it's a little too much, just a little too soon But if the conversation ever were to come up I don't wanna assume this stuff But ain't it love?  I think I'm in love
She wanted to run up on the stage and say the words she’s been wanting to say for so long. You technically beat her in saying it, professing it to her and to the whole audience.
And she laughs at all my jokes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of her To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere she goes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry her If she keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love
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yourinstagram 5 new tunes for ya!! GUTS (spilled) out this friday!!!!!
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user1 AHHHHHH i can’t wait
user2 she preformed so american for us!!!
↳ user3 i loved it so much!
↳ user4 girlie is IN LOVEEE
Mapi and the rest of the team followed your bodyguard, Tony, to your dressing room, eating for you to finish thanking the fans. the door opens not that long after as they all spot you walking in.
You see Mapi right away, running to her, even in your tired state, jumping into her arms.
“Hola mi bebé.”
“Hey. I’m so tired.”
“Why don’t you get dressed comfy so we can go back home.”
“Yeah, home.” You walk away, waving to everyone else in the room, before going to get changed.
Two days after, you were still in Barcelona, specifically making sure you’ve taken a week break from tour to be able to stay with Mapi for a bit. You were both walking hand in hand around the city, wanting to spend time with each other doing whatever, just happy to be with her.
Y/N Y/LN New Fling?
Y/N Y/LN, an international pop star, was seen getting cozy with a mystery woman in Barcelona.
Just a couple of weeks ago, Y/LN started her international leg of her GUTS tour, preforming in Barcelona two days ago. On stage, she announced a deluxe version of her album, GUTS (spilled), where it features a song she performed for the first time called ‘so american.’
In the song, she said that she is “gonna marry her” and she “might just be in love” so, no this might not just be her new flavor of the week. Is Y/N Y/LN ready to settle down?
Y/LN has been previously linked with Lily Rose Depp, Joshua Basset, and Adam Faze just to name a few. None of those has seemed to last. Paparazzi has caught sight of Y/LN going all around the city of Barcelona with her new supposed girlfriend that we’ve found out is María Pilar León (Mapi), who plays on the Barcelona Femení Football Club. Pictures of the two are now circulating online and we have to say, Y/N looks very much in love. Take a look yourself.
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Aren’t they just so cute! Let us know what you think.
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Sitting on the couch watching a movie with Mapi, your phone suddenly starts going off with notifications.
Man-anger
Just a heads up, you’ve been paparazzied with your gf today.
You
Alright, thanks 👍🏼
“Ugh!” You throw your head back in frustration.
“What’s wrong bebé?”
“Damn paparazzi won’t leave me alone. They got pictures of us and posted them everywhere. I’m sorry. And they said that you’re hopefully not just my flavor of the week. Like what the fuck does that mean?”
“Wait, why are you sorry?”
“Cause I know you wanted to be private about this whole thing and this just ruined it.”
“Hey, hey.” Mapi holds your hands, moving them away from covering your face. “I’m not mad mi amor. We agreed on private but not secret. You can’t prevent people from taking pictures in public, especially of you. Eres hermosa.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and I don’t want to keep hiding how much I love you.”
You freeze. This was the first time Mapi had said she loved you. You know that you technically said it in the song, but now you’re for sure.
“I love you.”
Mapi guides your face to her’s with a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, deepening it.
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yourinstagram i know i’m in love
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wososcripts · 4 hours
Text
Face to Face (IV)
Fridolina Rolfö x reader
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Summary: An attempt to make amends.
A/N: we're nearing the end!! not sure how I feel about this part... hopefully it's okay
Word Count: 3k
Warnings ⚠️: none?
PREVIOUS PART
The next few days followed in a similar manner. Alexia brought you to the pitch even though you couldn't play, and you sat there for a few hours until they were done. Occasionally Jona would come over to see you, or Olga would stop by with food. Ana Maria even drove over from Madrid to see you and take you out for the day. But mostly you slept, listened to podcasts, and thought about what the hell you were going to do about Frido.
She still hadn't spoken to you and the team was starting to notice. It's not like the two of you were very close before (at least publicly) but now it was a conscious avoidance. The rest of the girls often kept you company when they could on breaks or in between drills.
It was only after five days, on Friday afternoon, that she approached you.
“Hi…” Frido said softly.
You looked up at her from where you sat on the pitch. You had been doing light stretches on your calves, still not allowed to do anything strenuous until next week.
“Hi, Frido.” You said plainly.
You tried not to react emotionally despite the fact that this was the first time she was speaking to you since the incident. She hadn’t even called to say she was sorry. It all seemed to confirm she really didn’t give a damn about you—didn’t have the courtesy to treat you like a stranger even.
“How are you feeling?”
Her careful, soft tone enraged you.
“Not so good, actually. My head fucking hurts, I’m sick of sitting here while the rest of you play. And I’d really rather be doing anything than talking to you.”
You felt bad the second you said it. Not because she didn’t deserve it, but because this wasn’t you. You were better than that.
“Sorry, I just really would like to be left alone, Frido. Please, just leave me be. Leave me alone.”
Frido’s eyes shot towards the ground as she blinked furiously.
“Okay.”
She turned away and walked back to the field, joining Alexia and Ingrid as they talked about something. Part of you felt bad for rejecting her so quickly, but another part of you felt enraged that she had the nerve to wait this long.
Ingrid looked over at you and then back at Frido curiously.
"What did you want to say to her?" She asked in Norwegian, knowing Frido would understand.
"I don't know… just wanted to check in on how she's doing so far."
Before Ingrid could reply again, Alexia butted in.
"You need to tell her you're sorry as soon as possible."
"I just tried—clearly she isn't too keen on having me around, is she?" Frido snapped back.
The three of them stood in shock for a second, surprised at Frido’s temper. Usually she was level headed and understanding.
Alexia sighed and clapped her on the shoulder.
"Keep trying."
With that she was off to change and shower, giving Ingrid a small smile as she left.
"Frido," Ingrid rubbed her arm to catch her attention. "Why don't we go get a drink tonight and catch up? It's been a long time since we went out, just us."
Frido contemplated it momentarily, not stupid enough to miss that Ingrid clearly wanted to talk about her mood. If she accepted, she was also accepting the fact that she had to open up to her best friend sooner or later.
"All right."
-
"I don't know what to do," Frido complained, tossing back the last dregs of her beer.
Ingrid sat across from her, her own beer nearly untouched. They were sat out on the balcony of some restaurant nursing the end of the night. They hadn't met, just the two of them, in a while, Frido realized. She wished it was under better circumstances.
"Can I be honest?" Ingrid asked.
Frido nodded. She expected no less from the Norwegian—though she was incredibly kind, it wasn't common for them to sugar coat things.
"You've got to go up to her and apologize. Sincerely. One on one. And you can't be sure she's going to forgive you."
Frido knew Ingrid was talking about apologizing for more than the tackle. She wasn't privy to exactly what happened between the two of you—even in your anger you hadn't told your teammates what was going on—but it was clear something unhealthy had been a staple between the two of you.
"Mapí showed me the video. I didn't want to see it at first, you know how I am with that stuff, so worried always that it'll be one of us. But I finally saw it." Ingrid met her eyes. "The way she went down, the way you hit her, she could've been hurt much worse than she is. And you just got up and left, didn't even check on her."
There was a hint of disdain in Ingrid’s voice that inspired nausea in Frido.
"Had that been any player in a match against Barcelona, imagine how any one of us would've reacted."
Frido knew, if she had seen someone do to you what she had done herself, it would've boiled her blood. To see you lying there unmoving, would've had any player on that field aching, because you were wonderful. You didn't cause fights, you forgave people, you smiled at the opposition after each game, you spent as much time as possible with the fans. And Frido had somehow broken that, gotten you to yell and scream and cry.
"We were together." She whispered, not meeting Ingrid’s eyes. "Well, not really. We were sleeping together, I was at her place most days a week."
The waitress came by, and Frido ordered a glass of wine. She needed a bit more courage to fully get this out in the open.
"I didn't want commitment. I'm not… I didn't know how to be open about that with anyone. I was ashamed of it—she knew. She could sense it." Frido gripped the stem of her wine glass and took a sip. "She hated breaks because she knew I wouldn't talk to her until I was back in Barcelona. Right before I went back to Sweden for camp… we had a huge fight. She said she couldn't take it anymore, that I made her feel like a whore, that I tossed her aside whenever I didn't want her. And I said I didn't care."
Ingrid was silent.
"I didn't expect her to kick me out. Or to refuse to speak to me. I thought we'd fall back together, we always did. But it was different this time. And I hated it. I hated it so much it made my head spin."
Ingrid put a hand over Frido’s where it rested on the table.
"Frido, I love you. You're my best friend, okay?"
Frido nodded, wiping at a tear that was beginning to fall.
"You've got to make this right. Good people do shitty things. Really shitty things sometimes. But sometimes they're also forgiven, in time. And if you want anything with her, even friendship, you've got to apologize and explain yourself."
Frido nodded, meeting Ingrid’s eyes finally.
-
That night Frido found it difficult to get to sleep.
There wasn't any good reason for it: she had worked hard in practice all day and her body was exhausted. Her bed was comfortable, her apartment quiet. But it was empty. She had realized that she hadn't spent a week straight sleeping in her apartment for months. At least once a week she was with you, always.
But now you weren't speaking to her. You looked at her during practice, then avoided her at all costs. She hadn't even tried texting you, worried she would find her number blocked.
She contemplated calling someone to keep her company, though who would be up at one in the morning?
Eventually she fell asleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. She slipped away into unconsciousness, allowing her body to relax into the mattress.
Her mind, however, had different plans.
In her dreams she was in the hospital, unable to get to you. She stood at the door to your room, peering in through a small glass window. The rest of the girls were inside, holding your hand and stroking your skin as you laid in the hospital bed. Your eyes were open but you hardly moved. All she knew with certainty was that you did not want to see her. You wanted her gone. You've ruined my life, she heard you say, though your lips didn't move.
Another time you had simply disappeared. Her fault. You had moved far away, far from Barcelona, and far from her. You were happier somewhere else, with different people.
Once more you hated her. Refused to speak.
When she woke it was to a dark room and a sick feeling in her stomach. She was lonely. She wanted you next to her in bed. She wanted to see you smile and hear you laugh. She wanted to see you play great football and jump into her arms after a goal. And it terrified her to think she wouldn't get any of that again.
How was it that she could've treated you so horribly? It confused her, as if it had been someone else. How had she let her fear control her like that? And most importantly, how had she put your feelings aside so callously?
If she was going to fix anything she would need to apologize. Apologize for it all. Ingrid was right. She hadn't been there for your recovery and now it was all she wanted. The guilt of it all threatened to choke her. She thought of how scared you must've been lying on the field in pain.
Though it was only 4:30 in the morning Frido got out of bed and went to the bathroom to start a scalding hot shower. She needed a plan for how to fix things between you two.
-
It began that morning. Alexia brought you to practice. You were still living with her for the time being, until you were one hundred percent cleared. You didn't mind it, in fact it was nice to get so much time with Alexia when she was normally busy.
You walked into the locker room, so pleased to be getting into your kit for the first time in a week and a half. Even if it was just for physio work, at least you were in the uniform once more.
Unexpectedly, sitting in your locker was a small stuffed cow with a card and one of your favorite protein bars propped against it. You picked up the plushie, pressing it to your face and enjoying the softness. You were a bit of a child when it came to stuffed animals: you loved them.
The card was written in very familiar handwriting, and your heart jumped into your throat.
This made me think of you. I'd really like to apologize after practice today. Perhaps we can grab a coffee?
Fridolina
The message was a bit stilted, but you could practically hear Frido’s hesitation on the page. She was nervous.
Just then the blonde came into the locker room to grab something from her bag. She glanced at you quickly, not sure as to your reaction.
"Frido," you called softly. You hadn't decided until that moment to try and forgive her, "I'll see you after practice."
Frido seemed shocked, but quickly her mouth transformed into a wide smile.
Practice seemed to fly by now that you were allowed to do something. The physio workers had you weight training and doing yoga to try and work your muscles that were tight from the pain you had been in. You felt like you were making progress, finally, after more than a week of sitting around.
-
The car ride with Frido was quiet. You sat in the front seat, fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone as she drove. She had music playing softly, some indie band you didn't know. It was bordering on awkward, though not quite there. You simply didn't know what to say.
Once Frido was pulling off the street to parallel park you spoke.
"I don't think I've been here before."
"I just found it a little while ago when I was wandering around desperately in need of some coffee."
The shop was cute. The outside was painted in chipping yellow paint and the shutters were open. There were a few tables outside, an eclectic set of guests seated at them. There was an old man reading the paper, a student on her laptop, and a mother with her baby. The smell of baked goods wafted from the entrance.
"The muffins are fantastic, if you want one." Frido offered cautiously.
You nodded and gestured for her to enter first.
You decided on a chai and a cinnamon muffin which did look incredible, you had to admit. When you were about to pull out your card to pay you felt a hand on your arm.
"I'll pay, please."
You allowed it, understanding that this was all part of Frido trying to ask for forgiveness. You were willing to see this to the end. It shamed you to admit but you had missed her deeply. It felt good to be near her, to smell her perfume and anticipate her ticks that you knew so well. What made you stay was the possibility that she had missed you too.
Frido carried your drinks and food to the table you picked. It was still warm enough to sit outside even with the sun setting. You tapped your foot and ate your muffin slowly, waiting on her to say something. You didn't want to speak first, but it seemed as though you might have to.
"So…" you started, trailing off to try and prompt Frido.
"I wanted to apologize. Really apologize."
You sat quietly.
"Just for the concussion you gave me?"
Frido hesitated.
"I'm still figuring things out—it's all jumbled up in my head. I was talking to Ingrid the other day and she made me realize I had to set things straight."
"What exactly does that mean?"
"I'm not explaining this well—I wanted to apologize for hurting you. And I want us to be on better terms. I wish we could start over."
"That's it?"
Your chest squeezed painfully. You thought this was the chance you had to deal with the horrible ending to your relationship, but Frido seemed to have no interest in unpacking it. You couldn't help the way your anger flared in response to the hurt you felt.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I'm not exactly okay, Frido." You started to stand up. "I think it's better if I left. There's no hard feelings over the concussion, I knew it was an accident. Let's just forget about all of it."
Frido stood up quickly, reaching out to grab your elbow.
"Can I drive you back?"
You shook your head.
"I'd really rather walk. It isn't far to Alexia's."
Frido looked for a second like she would push further, but then she deflated and nodded.
"See you at practice, Frido. Thank you for the coffee."
-
You couldn't help the tears that fell down your face as you walked down the streets of Barcelona. Deciding to forget the whole thing was worse than being angry about it—at least then you got some acknowledgment. Now you felt as though Frido was telling you she just wanted to smooth things over and make nice. She wanted it to be as if this thing between you never existed—all the pain and attraction gone in one fell swoop. You wanted to scream.
How were you meant to play with someone who you had so much conflict with? Surely Alexia or Jona would begin to notice sooner or later. You knew it would affect the team chemistry. The thought just made you more upset.
The tears in your eyes began to fall faster. Not only was your relationship (whatever messy bleeding thing it had been) ruined, but there was a potential for it to impact your job, your team too. What would you do then? If it came down to you or Frido you couldn't imagine Barça picking you.
Alexia noticed you were crying the second she saw you, even though you tried to hide it.
"What's wrong?" She fretted, pulling you close to her. "What happened? I thought you were with Frido this afternoon? Why did she not drop you off?"
You just shook your head, burying it in your captain's sweater. She wrapped her arms around you, quietly shushing you.
"Come, let's sit down."
You felt like a child being led to the couch and leaning in Alexia's embrace. Deep breaths eventually calmed you down so you could speak.
"I'm sorry Ale, I shouldn't be coming here like this."
Alexia shook her head.
"Nonsense. Tell me what happened. Was it Fridolina?"
"It's my own fault, I let it get like this."
"Let what get like this? The accident?"
You shook your head.
"Not the accident. Frido and I have a…we have our difficulties."
Alexia looked at you, surprised.
"Really?"
"I don't think I can tell you…you're her captain I don't want to let it affect the team."
Alexia took your hand.
"I can separate work and personal life. I'm your friend too, and it seems like you need one."
"We were seeing each other, kind of. In secret." You sighed. "We weren't exclusive, she just wanted some fun I think. I didn't."
You felt defeated. There wasn't much more to do. You just had to accept your fate.
Alexia looked at you for a moment in disbelief. She had had no idea.
"You and Frido?"
"It was a mistake."
148 notes · View notes
vbecker10 · 21 hours
Text
Trust Me
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N) - established relationship
Summary: You and Loki have been dating for a year and a half and you moved into his apartment in the Tower last month when your apartment's lease was up. Since you've moved in, Loki has been coming home late more and more often. You fear he is cheating on you like your exes did, you finally break down and confront him. He admits has been keeping a secret from you but it's not what you expected.
Warning: Angst of course, being cheated on in previous relationships (briefly mentioned), fear of being cheated on again, lack of trust, arguing, negative thoughts, Loki being a little stupid
A/N: Ok... tiny spoiler but there is a super fluffy ending 💚 I know it's kinda long but I just didn't feel like making this a two-parter
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You have just finished cooking dinner and begin to set the table when you catch a glimpse of the clock on the stove. You feel a growing sense of disappointment, Loki should be home already. Sitting alone at the table, you look at the food for a few minutes until your phone vibrates causing your heart to sink. Without even checking, you know what the text will say.
<Darling, I'm so sorry I need to finish something for Stark. I'll be home late, don't wait up.>
You frown and scroll back up to the previous messages in the chat. Loki had sent you similar texts twice and you've only lived with him for six days.
<Okay. I made you dinner, it'll be in the fridge. Love you>
He replies quickly.
<I love you too>
You instantly lose your appetite and decide to put all of the food away. It is hard not to feel as if Loki is avoiding you. In the year and a half you've been dating, he only worked late a handful of times and it was never several days in a row.
What are the odds that his work load has suddenly increased now that I am living with him? you think as you fill with anxiety. No, Loki loves me, you try to reassure yourself. He would never lie to me, if he says he is working, he is working.
You get another text from Loki as you close the fridge.
<I forgot to tell you, I picked up all of the very specific snacks you requested. I am looking forward to spending the weekend with my arms wrapped around you while we watch that absolutely absurd show you love so much>
You smile, your worries fading quickly as you text him back.
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You change the channel again but you are barely watching the TV. You've had an unusually long and stressful day and you really need to cuddle with Loki but something tells you he is not coming home just yet. Almost as soon as you think it, your phone vibrates and you sigh.
<I'm sorry love, I'll be home late again. Don't wait up>
<K>
You text back the single letter, unsure if Loki can tell the subtle difference between 'okay' and 'k' but you just don't have the energy to fake being fine at the moment.
Two minutes later Loki responds.
<I love you>
You swipe the message away without replying, putting your phone in your pocket. You turn off the TV and decide you're done for the night, you can't bare the thought of eating alone for the third time this week. Without eating, you take a shower to try and wash off the day then crawl into the large, empty bed.
Once you are under the covers in the dark, your thoughts begin to race. Why does Loki never seem to want to come home to me? Does he really have that much work to do or is it an excuse? What if he is tired of being around me? We only just started living together but it feels like he is just trying to avoid spending time with me. What could he possibly be doing until midnight three or four nights a week?
No, not what... who is he doing, the little voice in the back of your mind pushes through. He's cheating on me, I've just been too blind to see it.
But Loki said he would never betray my trust like that, he promised, you counter but your negative thoughts quickly return. My previous boyfriends all seemed honest too, until they hurt me.
There are other signs I've been ignoring, you allow yourself to think. The calls, the texts, you wipe away your tears and cling to his pillow. You had gone into your bedroom two weeks ago and Loki was sitting on the bed, scrolling through your phone. He told you he was checking the weather app before you left for the park but the answer didn't feel right. You had nothing to hide and would often let him use your phone without question but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was looking for something. One thing you learned from your first boyfriend was that if someone started snooping around, it was because they were hiding something of their own.
Soon after that, Loki began getting texts that he didn't respond to or he would leave the room to answer a phone call. He always insisted it was Steve, Tony or Thor and that it had to do with work but you found it harder and harder to believe him.
He probably didn't even really want me to move in with him, your mind switches tracks suddenly. Sometimes I feel like the only reason he asked me to move in was because I had complained that my lease was running out and he was tired of hearing about it.
That's not true, you try to correct your thoughts. Of course Loki wants me here. You remember what he told you when he was helping you pack.
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Your memory of Loki is quickly pushed aside by your memory of crappy ex number two. You had moved in with him just after college when you both realized you couldn't afford to live in NYC on your own. You had only been together a few months before you signed the lease on a one bedroom and it was just two weeks later when he began working later and later. It turns out, what he really wanted was a roommate with benefits and to still see other woman.
"That's everything," you said, looking around your empty bedroom. You had a gnawing feeling, even then, that Loki would grow tired of you and cheat. You wondered if you were setting yourself up for another heartbreak and Loki seemed to sense your anxiousness.
He took your hand in his and kissed it lightly, making you smile. Then he said, "Darling, I know the timing seems convenient but I have been wanting to ask you to live with me for some time. I know you prefer to take things slowly but I would have asked you to move in with me a year ago if I thought you would have agreed."
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I can't keep denying this, you roll onto your back and look up at the ceiling, tears streaming down your cheeks. Loki is cheating on me. The only question is did this start after I moved in or has he been doing it the whole time?
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A few hours later Loki walks into the apartment completely exhausted, all he can think about is crawling into bed with you. He hates how late his project is keeping him, he misses you tremendously and needs to feel you in his arms. Loki is overwhelmingly concerned by your response, or lack there of, to his texts tonight. You had never not told him you loved him and it made him nervous.
He pauses in the dark when he is just outside your bedroom and realized he can hear you crying. His heart aches at the sound and he turns on the light when he enters the room. You roll over away from him, clutching his pillow tightly.
"Y/N, are you okay?" he asks. You are silent, unable to answer his question. He crawls onto the bed next to you over the covers. You squeeze your eyes shut, hating how safe his actions make you feel, his chest flush to your back and his strong arms around you. "Darling, please tell me what's wrong," he urges gently.
"You're cheating on me," you state through your tears.
"No," he pulls back in surprise, "No, Y/N, you know I would never do that to you."
You shake your head, "You never come home."
"I'm sorry, I'm working on something-" he tries to explain but you cut him off.
"Who is she?" you ask sitting up. He moves to sit up and face you.
"Love please, I'm not-," he again tries to deny he is cheating but you don't let him speak.
"I know you aren't working this late, you never worked long hours before I moved in," you tell him as you wipe away your tears angrily. "Just tell me who she is unless... unless there's not just one other woman." Memories of your third ex-boyfriend flash through your mind, he had cheated on you with five women that you knew of but you were sure there had been others.
"There is no one else. I swear on everything in the nine realms I have been nothing but faithful to you," he promises quickly.
Your heart desperately wants to believe him. You love him so fiercely, more than you ever thought possible especially after you had been hurt so horribly in the past. Your mind, however, is convinced that you can't trust him and you shouldn't have let yourself fall for him. You know it will destroy you to leave him but you can't remain with him if the trust is gone.
"Look at me," he says, touching your cheek lightly. "I have never and would never cheat on you. I know you don't believe me right now and I understand you have been hurt in the past but I love you and I respect you too much to ever treat you the way those pathetic excuses for men ever did."
You sniffle and he says, "It's late, come with me tomorrow morning. I will show you what I have been working on. I will show you that you can trust me."
You nod in agreement although you are unsure how he can prove to you he has been faithful. He wipes your tears gently. "Don't," you whisper, pulling away from him when he moves to kiss your cheek.
"Would you prefer if I sleep in the living room tonight?" he asks. His chest hurts even as the words leave his mouth but he knows if he pushes too hard, you will retreat further away from him.
You nod again, unable to trust yourself to speak. You want to tell him to stay, to comfort you but how can he if he's the one who caused you this pain.
"Okay," he says quietly. He hates knowing he hurt through his actions. He tucks you back under the covers and runs his fingers through your hair slowly in the hopes that you will relax even the slightest bit.
"I'm so sorry I've made you feel this way, this was not what I wanted," he says softly. "I was planning something for you and I didn't have time to work on it during the day. I should have thought about how you would feel when I didn't come home but I need you to know that coming home to you has always been the best part of my day."
"I love you," he kisses the top of your head and you feel him get out of the bed. He turns off the light but waits a few seconds before leaving, hoping you will change your mind and allow him to stay with you. As soon as he closes the bedroom door you begin sobbing again.
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Loki paces angrily back and forth in the living room. How could I have been so stupid, how could I have missed how upset you were? he thinks as he runs his fingers through his hair. He never intended to hurt you, he had become so distracted trying to make sure everything went perfectly to plan that he let the most important person in his life slip through his fingers. He sits heavily on the couch, wishing morning would come quickly.
He lays down after a few minutes, his hand over his eyes and remembers the day he first asked you on a date.
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"No, Loki, I'm sorry," you told him while you were sitting together in the park. You slowly removed your hand from his and shifted away on the bench.
A few days later, the two of you were cooking dinner in his apartment and you asked him if you could explain why you had told him no.
Loki was almost too shocked and hurt by your rejection to respond. You had been doing date-like activities for almost a month and he had finally decided to ask you out officially. After a long moment he said, "I understand. I'm sorry, I must have misread things between us. I thought..." he shook his head, his words dying off. "Friends then," he looked up at you and smiled.
"Of course," he answered, a part of him hoping there was still a chance, however small, that you would change your mind.
You sat with him at the dining table and said, "There are two types of people when it comes to trust. You're the first type, you trust with your whole heart unconditionally. Once someone breaks your trust, however, it is gone forever."
He nodded in agreement knowing he had trusted his father without question but once he found out the truth, it was gone and could never be restored.
You continue, "I'm the second type, I don't trust anyone when I first meet them. I can't help but assume everyone is lying or unfaithful or willing to hurt me until they prove otherwise. I wasn't always like this but all three of my previous boyfriends cheated on me so now I almost feel like I've lost the ability to trust anyone. It was why I have so few friends."
After another hour of telling Loki what they had done, he promised to find your exes and make them suffer for how they treated you. You laughed in response, telling him that they weren't worth him getting in trouble but you secretly loved how protective he was of you.
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You roll over again, unable to get comfortable without Loki next to you. You close your eyes tight and try to force yourself to sleep but it seems impossible. I don't understand why he would do this, you think. He had tried for so long to earn my trust and convince me to be with him. Why would he throw it all away?
Three months later you were sitting on Loki's couch together, the same one he is trying to sleep on now. His arm was around your shoulder and you were leaning comfortably against him. Your mind wandered since you had seen the movie before and after replaying the last few weeks in your mind you realized something.
From the day you told Loki no, he had been nothing but patient with you, being the friend you needed. You continued to go to museums, parks, movies, from the outside it appeared as if it were dating but Loki never pushed you. He would hold your hand as often as he could and you discovered he gave fantastic hugs but he never went in for a kiss or asked you out again although you could sometimes tell he wanted to.
"Loki, ask me again," you said out of seemingly nowhere.
"Ask you what darling?" he laughed as he paused the movie.
"Ask me on a date," you smiled nervously. "That is, if you still want to date me."
His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his lips. "Y/N, would you go on a date with me tomorrow?" he asked, holding your hand.
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"Yes," you answered and he kissed your cheek causing you to blush. He promised you that he would never make you regret giving him this chance.
There is a light knock on the door and Loki opens it slowly. "Good morning darling," he forces a smile and you can tell by the redness in his eyes he slept probably as well as you did. "I know it is early, but I need you to come with me. I can't bear the thought of you thinking I've cheated on you for a moment longer."
He stops in front of the last door in the hall and he clears his throat. "It isn't finished yet," he says before he opens the door. "I was hoping to have it ready for your birthday next month."
You both get ready in silence and leave the apartment. He walks next to you and you can tell he wants to reach for your hand but you keep your arms crossed against your chest. You step into the elevator first and Loki pushes the button for one of the highest floors in the Tower. You have never been to that floor and are honestly not sure what is up there. When you arrive, he leads you down the empty hallway without a word.
"My birthday?" you ask confused.
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He nods, "You were right, I have been lying to you and hiding something but I never meant to make you feel as if I was trying to hurt you. I was a fool for not realizing this was a horrible idea."
Loki opens the door and the lights turn on as you follow him inside. You freeze, your hand covering your mouth.
"It's almost an exact replica of the Great Hall in the palace," he says looking at the high ceiling. He looks back at you, "You told me you wanted to see Asgard and this is as close as I could get to making that happen for you."
"Loki-" you can barely speak as your eyes try to take in the room.
Your heart fills with love but also pain and guilt that you hadn't been able to trust Loki the way he deserved. You slowly move through the space and you are blown away by the tall marble columns, stained glass windows and gold accents all around you.
"The calls and texts were to your friends and family," he explains. "I needed to go through your phone for their numbers. When we were at Scott's party last year, you said you had never had a surprise party so..." he shrugs. "I tried."
"I'm so sorry," you tell him, putting your arms around him but he shakes his head.
"I'm sorry, I thought you would like it," he says utterly defeated.
"I do," you tell him earnestly. "Loki this is amazing, you are amazing. I can't believe you did all of this for me. I don't deserve this."
"You deserve the world Y/N," he tells you, his fingers wiping away the tears you didn't realize had fallen.
"I gave you plenty of reasons," he corrects you gently. "I can see how... sketchy my behavior was. I just wish you told me your fears sooner, before they consumed you so completely. I would never be able to forgive myself if you left me because I did something stupid. "
You hug Loki tighter, resting your cheek on his chest while he runs his fingers through your hair. "No I don't," you tell him. "I didn't even try to believe you. I compared you to all of my exes and I assumed you were just like them even though you have never given me a reason to mistrust you."
"A lot of magic, that's why it is taking so long. It is draining to build the type of illusion that can withstand being touched and will remain even when I am not here," he explains.
"This isn't stupid, this really is amazing. I love it," you look up at the painted ceiling again. "I love you."
He smiles, "I love you too."
"How did you even do all of this?" you ask, looking around again in awe.
"It's why your always tired when you do finally come home?" you ask.
"Yes," he tilts your chin up. "But you are worth it." He leans down and kisses you.
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The night of your 'surprise' party Loki walks into your bedroom with a beautiful deep emerald green dress. He smiles at your reaction and says, "This is my first gift of the night for my queen."
You finish getting ready and meet him in the living room. He stands from the couch, his eyes fixed on you. "You truly are a goddess," he says as he walks over to you. He puts his hands on your waist and you put your arms over his shoulders.
You blush at the compliment and joke, "You look half decent I guess." He laughs, both of you knowing full well how much you love when he wears a suit. Tonight he chose his black suit with a green dress shirt to match you and black tie. He leans down to kiss you and you find it impossible to let him go but he eventually breaks the kiss.
"Loki, you've done too much already," you can barely contain how happy and loved he makes you feel.
"You can only be so late to your own party," he smirks and you agree. Taking his hand, you walk towards the door but he stops you. "Wait, I think you are missing something," he says as he conjures a long, thin velvet box. "A second gift for my love."
"You deserve every bit of it," he says as he opens the box to reveal a gold necklace with a small resin pendant. You notice a tiny flower in the center when he places it around your neck from behind. "It's a freesia, the flower. They are often thought of as a symbol of trust and I want you to have this, to know you can trust me completely as I trust you."
He puts his arms around you and pulls you close. "You didn't ruin anything, please stop apologizing. And for the record, according to every single person on the team, I am the annoying one in this relationship, not you."
You fight to hold back tears and say, "I'm sorry I almost ruined everything. I can't imagine how annoying I must have been, constantly reminding you that I didn't trust you and comparing you to my exes."
You laugh and look up at him, "That's just cause they don't like you as much as they like me."
He smiles, "At least you like me."
You shake your head no and giggle. "I love you," you tell him then you reach up and kiss him.
He strokes your cheek softly, "That is all that matters to me."
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Loki smiles at you before opening the door and the lights turn on. Everyone yells surprise as you step into the space and there is no need for you to fake being completely amazed. Loki has added so much detail work, flowers, candles and even some balloons since you had last seen the room. The Avengers, your friends, your family and some of your closest coworkers are here, ready to celebrate you. You turn to thank Loki and he lets go of your hand.
You look down in shock, covering your mouth with one hand as he reaches for your other hand. He kneels on one knee in front of you, a small ring box in his hand.
"Y/N," he starts but he is unable to get another word out
He smirks, "At least I was able to keep this a surprise."
"Loki..." you can barely believe what is happening.
"Yes," you answer quickly.
He laughs, "Darling, I didn't ask yet."
"I don't care, yes," you tell him and he stands up, putting the ring on your finger. You don't even look at it but you know it is perfect. You throw your arms around Loki and he picks you up, kissing you fiercely.
"I love you," you tell him over the sound of everyone clapping in the background.
"I love you too," he says before kissing you again.
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121 notes · View notes
kinniey · 1 day
Text
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warnings: step-cest, manipulation, degrading, humiliation, forced (?), angst, fluff at the end if you squint, nsfw, age gap, illegal (?), underage (beginning)
꒱ა
it has always been like this between you and suguru. he was older, two years older. your parents started dating when you were 12, shortly after they married...so you both were siblings..right?
when the time went by geto started to get closer to you. you started to get closer to him. first you didn't see anything weird when he kissed you on the cheek or caressed your thigh under a blanket. but when you got older you stopped the intimate contact. pushing his hand away every time. til you both end up alone, both of your parents leaving for dinner.
"g..geto p-". you got cut off by his hand on your mouth when he brushed his clothed cock on your butt, keeping you pressed against the kitchen counter. "let me feel you, sis" he groaned pressing himself to you almost in a humping manner. "how is that you tell me that you love me and then decide what we do is wrong?". he asked almost sad getting his hand from your mouth and placing it on your boob when the other went to your waist. you couldn't utter a word like that, knot in your stomach and throat. was it excitement? fear? "i am sorry..". it's all you could muster up, suguru hugged to you, his hand travelling under your shirt touching your naked breast, you weren't wearing a bra for his luck. he smirked at the thought and pressed again on your butt.
it all ended up only touching you. he made you apologize many times, making you feel guilty and full of anxiety. you wanted him to think good of you, be happy with you.. you didn't want to disobey him.
the older you both got the braver he was and his action went bolder.
"open wider baby, or do you want me to force ya?" geto said a bit angry, he had you on your knees behind his car. he told you he will get you to the mall. and he did. but when you were coming back there was a price to pay- he paid for your clothes too, no? "good girl.. fucking bitch". he breathed out as you took his reddish tip into your mouth, it was leaking salty precum, you didn't like it but still stayed quiet.
he rolled his hips into your mouth forcing the rest of his cock into your mouth one of his hands holding the back of your head as you gagged, spit going down your chin, tearful eyes making your mascara messy. even tho you swallowed and started to swirl your little tongue on his dick, he stopped moving his hips letting himself fully feel your little throat almost squeezing him and that tiny tongue of yours worship his length. he ended up cumming down your throat, and you ended with wet panties.
now it was your 18th birthday, you spent all day with your hometown friends hanging out before you left for Tokyo to study. To geto's apartament. All alone with him. He moved out the year before you, tho he didn't study, your older brother went straight to work.
the next day you were already packed and left, saying goodbyes for the last time before stepping in the train.
꒱ა
"uh, i am tired niichan, so tired" geto mocked you as he was fucking your poor little pussy. your naked body pressed against the nearest wall of the hallway, your little moans feeling his apartament. "as tight as i remember" he let out a short laugh and came into you, two last thursts to keep his cum inside you a bit longer and let you go, make you fall to the floor. you looked at him with teary eyes of yours you always did.
at night you were already asleep. in his bed. he demanded that, his bed or the floor- not even the couch. when you were already deep asleep he went to shower, his forehead pressed against the cold titles of the shower, his cock in his hand stroking it. he couldn't' get his mind around you thought.
he felt a bit guilty. but only a bit. about manipulating you, using you, making you anxious and insecure just to keep you close. you were the only woman to stay with him. not because you wanted to, but because you had to. as he finished the shower his dick was still hard, without caring about this at the moment he dried, wore boxers and went to lay next to you, he hugged you closely from the back kissing back of your neck. he loved you so much..
you won't leave him..
you are all family after all. right?
110 notes · View notes
raya-hunter01 · 2 days
Text
Not My Sister's Keeper Pt. 7
Roman X OC(Kara)
Jey Uso X OC (Tia)
Rating: 18+
Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy
Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.
What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?
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Monday Night Raw
Two hours earlier
Nobody’s POV
“What do you mean I’m suspended?!” Tia screamed as the COO of WWE Paul Levesque cleared his throat.
“I didn’t stutter Tia, you’re outta control. I have given you chance after chance. Last week you almost injured Bayley, you’ve been acting irrational lately and I just think you need some time off to regroup.” Paul said sternly as Tia seemed to be becoming unglued.
“You can’t take this away from me,” Tia pleaded as Tom walked and went to stand next to Paul.
“Tia, your actions have taken this opportunity away from you,” he said as Tia began looking around in a panic.
“This is a mistake,” she whispered feeling her dreams slipping away.
“Then what is this I hear you were harassing Jey tonight?”
“What! I ain’t harassed him. We know each other on a personal level. Did Jey tell you that because if he did, he’s lying!” Tia screamed as Paul shook his head.
“No, Jey didn’t tell me, Tom did. He saw the whole thing. Jey actually tried to play off the seriousness of it but I’m not. You need to get some help Tia,” he said sternly as Tia frowned at Tom.
“Why are you in my business Tom? Look, I don’t need no help, I’m fine.”
“Tia, even after Jey told you to stay away from him you purposely followed him. You just Ignited a confrontation with your sister as he once again tried to deescalate the situation.” Tom said as Tia scoffed at him.
“So, you kept instigating it?” Paul asked as Tia refused to answer.
“Yes, she did and all with a smile on her face.”
“Tom shut up!” Tia screamed as Paul stood up and adjusted his tie.
“Nobody that works here will be sexually harassed or harassed in general. We are up from under Vince’s thumb, and everyone will be treated equally and have a safe work environment,” Paul said as Tia was seething.
“I ain’t did nothing,” Tia protested.
“Sixty days Tia and you will be on the NXT brand when you return. I really hope you can turn this around because another incident and your gone.”
“You can’t do this to me,” Tia cried as Paul sighed, walking over to try to calm her down.
“Tia, use this time to get yourself together. Actions have consequences and I can’t put my talent at risk. This time of reflection will give you and Roman a chance to work out your custody issues as well,” Paul said trying to be sympathetic.
“Yes sir,” she whispered as Paul walked out leaving her alone in her thoughts.
“I’m losing everything…It’s all her fault,” Tia cried as running out of the room bypassing people in the hall, just wanting to get her stuff and leave. Her mother’s words haunting her.
“Tia you dead wrong for what you did and you’re going to reap most of all.”
As she reached the women’s locker room her phone beeped, it was her Where’s My iPhone app. It was alerting her to Roman’s location being close by and he had been there for about an hour.
One night after one of their rendezvous while Roman took a shower, Tia linked his phone to hers to share his location but had hers turned off so he didn’t know she was keeping up with his whereabouts.
“Oh, so have me served custody papers today, then hopped on your little jet trying to tell Ms. Perfect and win her back, huh,” Tia says talking to herself plugging in the address on her phone.
“You can’t get rid of me Roman…Never.”
----
Present Time
Kara’s Condo
Kara’s POV
“Tia, put the gun down,” I pleaded as Roman looked back at me once again, but I was focused on Tia.
“Sorry to interrupt your lover’s quarrel. Wow ten total years together, five of it marital bliss came down to this because of lil old me, huh,” Tia gloated picking up our divorce papers off the table.
“Tia-”
“Kara, it’s going to be ok,” Roman said as I tried not to let my fear show but this fool was in my house pointing a gun.
“Don’t look at her Roman!” Tia screamed as Roman looked back at her.
“Get outta her Kara,” Roman said as I ran back towards the kitchen .
“Get back here or I’ll shoot him.. Do you want to be the reason Logan has no father?” Tia hissed as I stilled in fear having almost made it to the kitchen entrance.
“She ain’t got nothing to do wit this Tia, we can just leave together,” Roman pleaded.
“It has everything to do with her. Turn around bitch!” she hissed as I gritted my teeth trying to hold my tongue as I slowly turned around putting my hands in the air.
“Come on what you tryin’ to do?” Roman asked as Tia chuckled.
“What I should have did years ago…Put her out of her misery..That’ll hit you and Jey right where you stand. Take away the person you both love, it would hurt you, wouldn’t it?" Tia asked, waving the gun at Roman.
“It would, but what about us..If you hurt Kara we can’t be together, tell her Kara,” Roman said as I tried to get my brain to catch up and play along.
“I’m not with Roman, it doesn’t have to go down like this. You have so much going for you,” I said trying to reason with her as she pointed the gun at me, her hand unsteady as I jumped back.
“Aye, take it easy, look me Tia,” Roman said as she seemed to becoming more unhinged by the second.
“Paul suspended me for improper conduct against your little boyfriend for sixty days! One of the higher ups saw it and told. I’m off the main roster, now I gotta to report to NXT after my suspension is over,” she said waving the gun at me.
“What does that have to do with me? You did what you did, Jey didn’t do anything to you.”
“Everything! It has everything to do with you!” Tia screamed as I flinched. “Then this motherfucker here is pining away for you and sending flowers and shit!" She screamed picking up the vase of flowers throwing it at the wall.”
“Tia, take that up with me. You really mad at me, not Kara,” Roman said as she pointed the gun back at him.
“Oh, I was coming around to you, having me SERVED with custody papers just before I leave for work! Really Roman, trying to sue me for sole custody of a child I already gave to you, just to not pay me what you owe me,” Tia said strangely calm, her hand no longer shaking as she held the gun on Roman.
“We can talk about it Tia, just let Kara go,” Roman said as she chuckled.
“Your precious Kara…Always in the way Kara! Hell, you owe me that 50 million I asked for! I gave you something she couldn’t, the baby you always wanted!” she cried pointing the gun back at me as Roman moved in way.
“Move Roman! Let me end this!” She yelled as he refused to move.
“You’re right, Tia, you gave me Logan, our beautiful baby girl and I’m thankful,” Roman said as she nodded, tears streaming down her face.
“I did, and you know I could have loved you better than her. I want to hear her say it because she knows its true!” she cried as Roman nodded.  
“She will,” he whispered as I felt sick to my stomach. Survival was the name of the game and we both had too much to live for.
“Your right, you could have loved him better. You got pregnant and wanted to be a family with Roman, but I was in the way,” I cried as Roman looked back at me as we silently communicated with each other.
 “My own kid hates me; I feel nothing for her!” Tia cried as I took as Roman took a step closer. “Tia, you still got time to bond with her, I can help you,” he pleaded as she seemed to be letting down her defense.
“Kara, your life should have been mine. I was even willing to settle for Jey, but you just had to find out about Roman and me. Then you made Jey leave me….I ain’t got nobody,” she whimpered as a strangled sob escaped her lips.
“Tia, Kara left so we could be together, stuff just didn’t work out,” Roman whispered as she pointed the gun at his head as I screamed.
“Tia, no!!”
“You didn’t give us a chance because you wanted her, Roman! You wanted her!..... Jey wanted her!” She screamed as we stood in scared silence unsure as to what Tia was going to do next. That was until I saw out the corner of my eye the front door opening.
“Kara, I got your food, twins ran up the street to the store for your ginger ale, and some snacks,” Trin said walking in the door on her phone oblivious as to what was going on as Tia turned the gun on her.
“Trin Run!!” I yelled as Roman, and I tried to get the gun from her as  Trin panicked, quickly running back out the door, dropping everything she had in her hands.
“Help! Help us! She has a gun!” I heard her scream as we continued to tussle over the gun.
“Run Kara!” Roman yelled as I ran towards the kitchen to the back door my heart racing as I heard a shot, then silence.
As I opened the door, I heard another shot and instant pain shot through chest as I collapsed to the floor writhing in pain, gasping for air.
It hurt so bad I couldn’t catch my breath, hearing footsteps I tried to pull myself through the open back door but couldn’t move, I was in too much pain.
“Damn, you can’t even die right, can you?” I faintly heard Tia whisper as she turned me over. Her smile chilling me to the core as I silently cried in pain.
“I want to be the last thing you see,” she taunted as I coughed trying to take a deep breath, the pain unimaginable, rendering me speechless. I tried to lift up my head to look in the living room, but I couldn’t.
“Oh, you lookin’ for Roman, huh…..He’s ok, when we fell he hit his head on the end of the table and the gun went off,” She said as I groaned in pain.
“I should have shot him though, all he had to do was love me. You caused this!” she screamed sitting on my chest as I tried to push her off.
“T- T-Tia,” I gasped as she turned my head mushing it against the floor as I cried in relief seeing the knife I had earlier on the floor.
Using the last of my strength, push her off of me, crawling to the knife and laying on it, praying she hadn’t seen it.
“Now is that anyway to treat your sister? You’re supposed to be your sister’s keeper, remember Kara? Remember how we use to say that when we were kids?” she asked kneeling beside me caressing my hair as groaned in agonizing pain.
T-Tia I groaned as she shushed me.
“We even started back saying it to each other when you found out I was pregnant with Logan. Remember how close we had got,” she said as I struggled to breathe through the pain as she grabbed my face, making me look at her. “Do you?!” She shouted.
“Yes,” I finally whispered as she smiled. “Well, now I want you to tell me again. Are you still your sister’s keeper Kara?” Tia asked as I cried out in pain as she pushed down on my back.
“I asked you a question! Are you still your sister’s keeper?!” Tia screamed, turning me over as I held a firm grip on the knife.
Before she could comprehend what was happening, I reached up and stabbed her in the stomach with what little strength I had left.
“Kara,” Tia gasped in disbelief holding the knife lodged in her stomach, looking down at the blood seeping through her shirt and then back at me.
“I’m not… My sister’s….. Keeper,” I whimpered as she smiled pulling the knife out of her stomach and dropping it on the floor beside us gasping in pain.
 “Neither…. Am I,” she groaned, collapsing beside me as I finally gave in welcoming the darkness as I faintly heard Tia moaning beside me in pain.
----
Jey’s POV
“We got to hurry up I got a bad feeling Uce. Kara an Trin ain’t answering their phones,” I said we headed back in the swank gated community. As soon as we pulled in I heard sirens and saw an ambulance. Quickly, I pulled over as they flew past us.
“You right, something wrong, follow them,” Jimmy said as I tried to catch up to the ambulance. My heart dropping to my stomach as we turned down Kara’s street and saw the EMTs rushing inside her house.
“Aye, that’s Trin,” Jimmy said as I sped up seeing she was talking to a cop and was hysterical.
As I slammed on breaks behind the Ambulance, Jimmy hopped out of car running to Trin as I put the car in park.
“Trin what happened?” Jimmy asked as she ran into his arms.
“Tia had a gun! She almost shot me; I heard two shots! She killed Kara and Roman! They saved me and she killed them!” Trin cried hysterically as Jimmy took her in his arms trying to calm her down as I ran past them going inside.
“You can’t go in there the cop!” yelled as I ignored him. Nothing was going to stop me from getting to Kara.  In the living room, I saw one of the parametics working on Roman.
He was sitting on the floor as the paramedic tried to stop the bleeding from his head. Wait where did the other one go? Where’s Kara?
“John! I need some help in here! Dispatch, I got a female with a gunshot wound to the chest, the bullet seems to have gone straight through and another female with a stab wound to the abdomen. My gunshot victim isn’t breathing! We need more units and police backup!” he yelled.
“It’s not Kara…. It’s not Kara,” I whispered over and over slowly waking, past Roman not even caring what he was trying to tell me.
As I walked into the kitchen the air left my body as my worst fear had been confirmed seeing the paramedic performing CPR on Kara’s lifeless body.
“Kara,” I said in shock, walking closer to be sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.
“Baby,” I whispered kneeling beside her as the other paramedic that was working on Roman, rushed in and began working on Tia.
I glanced at her as she smiled grunting in pain.
“She’s dead Jey,” she rasped as I looked back at Kara in disbelief.
“Look, if you going to be in here, I need your help,” the paramedic said as I nodded. “W-whatever you need,” I said has he guided my hand to Kara’s chest. “She’s losing a lot of blood I need to you apply pressure here with this towel,” he said as I followed his directions.
“What’s her name?” he asked as I tried to wrap my head around the fact Tia shot Kara, I almost didn’t hear him.
“Kara..Her names Kara ,please help her,” I whispered as he stopped compressions.
“Come on Kara, I need you to breathe for me, ok?” he encouraged tilting her head back and blowing air into her mouth.
“Please breathe baby, we just getting started now. Come on breath Kara,” I cried not knowing if I was coming or going as I faintly heard the other paramedic talking to Tia.
“She’s dead right?” Tia gasped as I growled in frustration and anger.
“She ain’t dead! But you keep talkin’, you will be!” I hissed as she finally stopped talking. A few seconds later I heard the wheels on the gurney leaving the room.
“Yes, get her the fuck outta her before I kill her myself.”
“Kara breath,” I heard Roman whisper as I refused to look at him, focusing on Kara.
This ain’t it, I refuse to believe that. She’s gon’ be ok….
“Kara, come on breathe, we gotta a date remember. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go baby, just breath,” I sniffed refusing to wipe my own tears knowing I would have to stop putting pressure on her wound.
I panicked even more as I the paramedic pulled out an AED machine and  began putting patches on Kara.
“When I say clear I need you to move, I’m going to try to jumpstart her heart…. 1, 2,3, Clear!” he shouted as I moved my hand and Kara’s chest lifted up in the air before becoming still again.
It was like I was watching myself outside my body as he began to count down again.
“Clear!” He shouted once again trying to shock Kara heart into rhythm but this time as I placed my hand back on her chest, I felt it rise and fall under my hand.
“I got her back! He yelled as released the breath I was holding leaning down kissing Kara on the temple
“Kara, its Josh…I love you so much…You hear me I’m here and I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” I reassured her before the other unit of paramedics came rushing in.
 I moved out of the way to let them work. but still stood where I could see her. Everything was moving so fast after that point as I watched them get her stabilized and on the gurney.
“Dispatch, Let the hospital know we’re on the way, we need all hands-on deck. We should be your way in about seven minutes.”
“Calling now unit 7, have a safe ride.”
“I’m coming wit her,” I said as the paramedic nodded in understanding as we made our way through the living room.
“Jey, is she ok?” Roman asked as I looked at him like he was stupid as another a paramedic was helping him on a gurney.
“What do you think?! That crazy bitch shot her in the chest, and it’s all your fault because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants,” I said not sparing him a glance following the Paramedics out with Kara.
“Jey, I’m sorry!” Roman yelled as I tuned him out.
All that mattered right now was Kara…I couldn’t lose her..Not now.
“Oh, my God Kara!” Trin screamed running over as they loaded Kara in the ambulance. “Take the car I left the keys in it,” I said watching them secure Kara in the back of the ambulance
“We right behind ya’ll Uce,” Jimmy said as I nodded hoping in the back of the ambulance holding Kara’s hand. “Aye, it’s me don’t check out on me yet, you hear me,” I whispered kissing her gently on the forehead as the paramedics continued to work.
The sirens wailing as we sped through traffic has me on edge. She had to be ok.. Looking out the back window I saw Jimmy speeding to keep up with us. Is all this really happening?
“You’re going to see a doctor and some nurses. They are going to take her straight to the OR and you won’t be able to go back with her but they will put you in a room in the ER until we know if she’s going to a regular room or ICU.”
“A’ight, they bout to take you for a minute Kara, but I’mma be right there when they bring you back to your room,” I reassured her as I felt her squeeze my hand as I cried in relief.
“Yea, let me know you hear me beautiful. I love you so much.”
Once we pulled up to the hospital everything moved so fast as the nurses and doctors met us at the ambulance. I felt helpless as they took Kara and rushed inside.
One of the nurses was nice enough to walk me to a room. I looked down at my white shirt and my hands stained with Kara’s blood and felt myself losing it. Going in the bathroom to the sink I  scrubbed my hands.
The sight of her blood washing down the drain is something I will never forget.
“Jey,are you in here. we’re here,” Trin said as I came out the bathroom and sat down as she Kneeled in front of me. It seemed like everything was catching up to me.
“She died on me, Trin,” I whispered as Trin looked at me in shock.
“What?”
“At the house… Her heart stopped.”
“Jey,” Trin whispered pulling me in her arms as I growled in frustration.  “Tia was laughin' sayin' she was dead,Trin” I whispered still in disbelief as Jimmy sat beside me and wrapped his arm around us both.
“But they got her back, we gotta focus on that,” he said as I looked up and Roman being wheeled into the room across the hall.
“Kara is fighting for her life and this motherfucker just got a bloody head. Now, I gotta call Kara’s mom-”
“They sent a unit to notify them, her parents know and are on the way.” Jimmy said as Trin wiped my tears.
“I’ll go see if there’s any updates,” Trin said as I nodded, letting her go as she got up and left.
“She says Roman and Kara saved her life,” Jimmy said as I nodded watching her go into Roman’s room.
“I know, I just can’t right think about all that right now.”
“We ain’t gotta say nothin’ Uce, just let me us be here for you,” Jimmy said as we sat in silence waiting for word on Kara.
---
Roman’s POV
“Mr. Reigns we want to keep you a couple days for observation, you have a concussion and I’m going to go put in the orders for a local you’re going to need stitches.”
“What about my wife Kara, she was brought in along with her sister.”
“Mr. reigns your wife is in surgery, and they are doing everything they can.”
“Ex wife-” Trin corrected as I sighed laying back on the bed.
“Trin, I know that…. Look are you ok? I asked as she nodded her head as the nurse left us alone.
“Yea, I’m ok..I just wanted to make sure you are ok and to tell you thank you. You and Kara saved my life.”
“You’re my family Trin, you know I love you.”
“I love you too. I called your mom, and she should be calling you in a bit. I had to calm her down, she was under the impression you went out to maybe clear your head after receiving the divorce papers but you all the way out here in Boston..Why?” she asked as I sighed.
“Trin it’s like I’m losing my mind, I saw Kara on Jey’s Instagram live and just went nuts. Next thing I know, I’m on my jet here trying to find out if they are in a relationship or not. The longer I looked around the house-”
“Looked around the house? I highly doub-” She started the words dying on her lips as she saw me drop my head in shame.
“Trin-”
“You were in the house when she got there!” Trin yelled as I rubbed my temples, knowing how bad it sounded.
“Trin, I was just going to talk to her, then I saw Jey’s shit in her room-”
“Roman, don’t even talk no more you pissin’ me off because you had no right doin’ no shit like that. Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?” Trin asked looking at me in pure disappointment.
“I know it’s insane Trin, but I just love her. We argued, she told me to leave and as I went to open the door there’s Tia standing there with a gun.”
“How the fuck did she know where Kara lived, did you tell her? Did you set this shit up so you could get custody of logan?” Trin asked firing off questions that really hurt me that she would think I would do something like that to Kara.
“No! She had my location; some shit she did to my phone apparently when I wasn’t around. She’s lost her mind Trin,” I said still not truly believing what had happened tonight.
“And so have you breaking into people’s homes and waiting for them in their bedroom,” she countered with her arms crossed as I sighed, knowing she was right.
“You right, I had lost my mind, but I damn sure found it when I opened that door and saw Tia with that gun.”
“Roman do you love Kara?” Trin asked as I felt offended by the question. Did she not see me earlier staring down the barrel of a gun to protect Kara?
“What kind of question is that. I would die for Kara, of course I love her. I just jumped at a gun to protect you because I love you too, I love all ya’ll,” I said as Trin nodded, seemingly in deep.
“We love you too, in spite of everything you’re going to always be family but in order for us all to begin healing… Like really heal…..You gotta make it right, and let it go Roman,” Trin pleaded as I felt as if I couldn’t breathe.
“I know,” I whispered overwhelmed because I knew she wasn’t saying it to hurt me, it was coming from a place of love.
I didn’t think I had that anymore from her or anyone in my family besides my mom, but guess I was wrong.
“If you love her…..Like truly love Kara like you say you do. Prove it… Let her go and let her be happy, so we can all move past this and try to be some kind of a family again,” Trin cried walking out of the room without another word.
I needed to let go but I don’t know how….But Trin was right, if I loved her, I needed to prove it.
“God, if you bring Kara through this…..I’ll do right…I’ll make it right, I swear,” I silently prayed as I felt the world on my shoulder because deep down I knew Jey was right.
I set this all in motion…Everything that happened was my fault.
----
Trin’s POV
Talking to Roman sucked the life out of me but I knew after what Jey had said earlier, I knew I needed to see one other person to see.
 “Excuse me, is Tia Morris able to have visitors I’m her cousin,” I said as the nurse smiled. “Uh, for the moment, but the police are on the way to question her. I can let you see her though, she’s in room 11,” she said leading me to the dim light room.  I frowned quickly seeing Tia sleeping but played it off by smiling at the nurse as I saw her head over to wake up Tia.
“Oh, I’m just going to sit with her. You don’t have to wake her up. I know the cops are going to keep her busy with their questions,” I said as the nurse patted me on the shoulder. “Ok, I’ll leave you to it sweetie,” she whispered walking out and closing the door.
Walking over to the door behind her, I closed the curtain before slowly walking over to her bed as Tia slept.
This bitch in her sleeping peacefully and Kara’s in surgery fighting for her life.
Reaching above her head I got a pillow. Now I wasn’t gonna kill her, but she damn sure was going to feel the struggle to breathe like Kara did.
“Tia,” I whispered, as she moaned turning her head as I pushed the pillow over her face as she tried to push away.
 Hearing the machine beeping fast, I pulled the pillow away as she gasped for air, the machine’s beeping returning to normal.
“What are you doing?” Tia coughed as I put the pillow over her face again as she helplessly tried to push against the pillow again, this time I released the pillow before the machine started beeping faster.
“You’re crazy,” Tia cried as I looked at her with disgust.
“I’m glad you realize that…..But I ain’t gon’ kill you…I just want you to feel how Kara felt as she laid lifeless on the ground beside you while you laughed,” I said remember Jey’s words, which made me even more angry.
Hysterical Trin was long gone now.
Grabbing her by the throat, I got in her face to make sure she heard me loud and clear.
“If you come near Kara, Jey, Jimmy, Logan or Roman again I will kill you. See you batshit crazy but you ain’t met real crazy yet, and I promise this ain’t what you want. I don’t take kindly when people fuck with my family,” I said calmly as Tia moaned in pain.
“Kara’s not your family,” she gasped as I slapped her before I could stop myself. I wanted to beat her ass, but I knew I couldn’t leave marks to give away what I had been doing in here.
Pushing her head against the pillow, I leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“You ain’t got a sister no more…She’s my sister, always have been. You don’t deserve her love or loyalty, or to even be in her presence,” I hissed as she groaned in pain as I pushed down on her stomach slightly, knowing it was causing her unimaginable pain.
“Trin, please.” Taa cried as I ignored her pleas.
“Trin please what? You want me to show you mercy? Did you show Kara mercy when you shot her, huh?” I whispered as she cried.
-----
Jey’s POV
“Uce, something ain’t right,” Jimmy said as I nodded in agreement.
“Yea, Trin been gone a minute.”
“I know she ducked out to see Roman, she had promised auntie she would look out for him, and for her just take care of Logan.”
“Let’s go see if she’s still across the way.” As we walked in and saw the room empty. We went to the nurse’s station.
“Excuse us, our cousin was in the room over there and he’s not there, is he ok?” Jimmy asked as the nurse smiled.
“Oh, he’s been transferred upstairs to a room, they are keeping him a few days,” she said as it dawned on me.
“Fuck,” I whispered as Jimmy looked at me.
“What?”
“Tia,” I whispered as Jimmy’s eyes bout popped out of his head in realization.
“Um, have you seen this woman,” I asked as Jimmy’s phone showed the nurse his screen saver.
“Sure, a real sweetie, said she wanted to see her cousin. I took her to room 11.”
“Um, thank you, we’ll just drop in for a second to see her too,” I said as Jimmy, and I tried to play it cool leaving the nurses station, but as soon as we hit the corner, we took off running towards Tia’s room.
Seeing the curtain closed, we rushed in and there was Trin sitting on the edge of the bed whispering something to Tia as she quietly sobbed.
“Trin let’s go baby, we been looking for you,” Jimmy said as Trin got up off the bed.
“They going to put you under the jail and if they don’t and you fake your way outta this….Just remember what I said Tia, and just know I don’t miss,” Trin said before walking past Jimmy and me.
“None of us were never here,” I said, as Tia nodded, wiping her tears as Jimmy and I left. As we rounded the hall, I saw two cops heading towards Tia’s room.
“Good, put her ass in jail,” I muttered going back into the room with Jimmy and Trin to wait to hear about Kara.
----
Five Hours Later
Jey’s POV
Trin and Jimmy had fallen asleep on the couch, but I still was wide awake. I couldn’t sleep until I knew how Kara was doing, the little updates from the nurses weren’t easing my fears at all.
 Deciding to stretch my feet I walked into the hallway and was met by the doctor.
“Mr. Fatu we just got done about thirty minutes ago,” he said as I took in his appearance, he seemed worried. “Hey, how is she?” I asked almost afraid of the answer.
“She made it through surgery, but the next 72 hours are critical. We were able to stop the bleeding and get the rest of the bullet fragments out.”
“Thank God.”
“She’s a fighter, it was touch and go for a while but she made it through,” he said with a tired smile.
“Thank you so much for everything…..When can I see her?”
“You can see her now; they just took her to ICU. She’s very lucky, half an inch to the right it would have been fatal,” he said as I felt the tears coming. I could have lost her…
“Uh, let me get up my family so we can head dat way,” I whispered walking back to the room to wake up Jimmy and Trin.
The long walk and elevator ride quiet, as we made our way up to ICU floor. As we waited for them to buzz us in Trin reached over and gave me a hug.
“You go in first Jey… Just tell her we love her,” Trin said as I sighed truly thankful for her.
She acted fast, called 911 and got Kara help.
“I will sis, and thank you,” I whispered as she nodded. “No, tell Kara thank you for saving my life,” she whimpered as I rubbed her back.
“I’m going to let you tell her for yourself,” I said as she smiled at me wiping her tears before going to sit with Jimmy.
Walking through the hall I felt anxious I needed to see her. The first room I saw had a cop sitting on the outside of it with the door open.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I looked over and there was Tia asleep handcuffed to a bed.
“Kara’s room is over here, Mr. Fatu,” the doctor said beckoning me further down the hall.
I hated she had to be on the same floor as Tia but at least it was some space between them, but I didn’t want to take that chance.
“Doc, I know she’s not stable but after her parents get here and she becomes stable can she be transferred out to another hospital. The person that attacked her is in here and I don’t feel comfortable.”
“I’m one step ahead of you. Her sister will be transferred when she is stable enough. Until then she will have an officer on her at all times and will be handcuffed to the bed,” he said still not putting me at ease.
I didn’t want Kara anywhere near that crazy nut.
Walking in her room I wasn’t prepared to see her lying in that bed looking so helpless. I went to sit by her trying to be mindful of the wires taking her hand in mine.
“I’m back beautiful, just like I promised. Now about this date, where you wanna go,” I whispered kissing her hand praying she would open her eyes and talk to me.
No response, sighing I reached over and kissed her temple. “That’s ok we can talk later, just rest,” I whispered sitting back down in my chair laying my head on the bed just looking at her.  watching the rise and fall of her chest, just thankful she had made it through the surgery. A sudden moan from Kara almost startled me.
“Kara, you ok baby?” I asked as she whispered something, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying as she eyes fluttered open, then closed back again.
“Balcony picnic date,” she whispered a little louder as I laughed.
“Kara, of all the places I can take you and you want to have a picnic on my balcony in Pensacola.”
“Yes, that’s what I want,” she whispered opening her eyes to look at me as I kissed her hand.
“You can have anything you want loʻu loto,” I said as she gave me tired smiled, still having a hard time trying to keep her eyes open.
“Get some rest, I ain’t going nowhere, we can talk when you get up.”
“I have to tell you something first,” she said as I pulled the covers up a little trying to help her get as comfortable as she could considering the hell she had just been through.
“Ok….What you gotta tell me that can’t wait beautiful?” I asked sitting back in my chair just happy she was awake and was talking to me.
“I love too, Josh,” she whispered before closing her eyes and drifting off back to sleep as I finally allowed the tears to pour from my eyes.
“I love you more.”
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chaoticforever · 1 day
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Where The Path Led | Yandere Stephen Strange x Male! Reader
Summary: Who thought having sex with Doctor Strange would cause the man to become very obsessive and delusional?
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Y/n stirred groggily, a throbbing headache pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning light streaming through the window. The brightness only added to his discomfort, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The room spun slightly, and he had to close his eyes again to steady himself.
After a few deep breaths, he cautiously opened his eyes again, this time letting them adjust to the bright light. As his vision cleared, he turned his head to the right, wincing at the sharp pain from his neck. That's when he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat or two.
This wasn't his room.
It took him a moment to register that he also was not alone. An arm was draped casually across his waist, belonging to someone still deeply asleep. Following the arm up, Y/n recognized the face — it was his colleague, Stephen Strange. The man looked peaceful sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The sight of Stephen lying next to him sent a rush of memories flooding back to Y/n.
The night before, Y/n had gone to a bar in the city, intent on drowning himself in alcohol. He had discovered yesterday that Marcus, his boyfriend of two years, had been cheating on him. The betrayal stung deeply, and he needed an escape. He wanted to forget, if only for one night.
And that's when Stephen had appeared. Noticing Y/n's somber mood, he joined him at the bar. The two men had shared drinks and danced together. Before they knew it, they ended up back at Stephen's place, and one thing had led to another.
Now, Y/n thought back to that moment with a sense of regret. He hadn't wanted to sleep with anyone; he had just wanted a night to forget his issues. Carefully, he eased himself out of Stephen's embrace, holding his breath and slipping out from under the covers. Spotting his clothes scattered on the floor, he began to dress quietly, wincing at the rustling fabric. He located his phone and keys in one of the pockets and quietly left Stephen's home.
Upon returning to his apartment, Y/n made a beeline for the bathroom. The cool water on his face felt amazing, but he knew he looked and felt like a mess. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't indulge in such heavy drinking again.
Going to the kitchen, Y/n began making this hangover remedy his dad had often made for him back in his early twenties. Y/n didn't think he would need it again, but it turns out that he did. As he mixed the ingredients, his phone rang and saw that Mercedes was calling. He answered.
"Hey, Mercedes."
"Hi, Y/n," Mercedes' cheerful voice came through. "So, what did you get up to last night? Drinking liquor at a bar, perhaps?"
Y/n blinked, because how did she just— "Uh, how'd you know that I went out to a bar last night? I didn’t tell you about that."
"I heard from Juan," his friend explained. "Said that he saw you at Charley's bar, getting wasted. He also mentioned that he saw you leave with someone — a tall male with black hair and a goatee. Did you hook up with somebody last night?"
Y/n sighed as he poured the remedy into a cup. "I did. I slept with my colleague, Stephen. It was a drunk hookup though, nothing more, and It won't happen again."
"And why won't it happen again?"
"To be honest, I don't like Stephen in that way," Y/n replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "And after finding out about Marcus, I don't feel like dating or hooking up with anyone for a while."
"I understand," Mercedes' voice was soft. "Take all the time you need to heal but don't let Marcus' actions hold you back. He doesn't deserve your time or energy."
Y/n smiled. Mercedes always knew the right thing to say to make him feel better.
"Thank you, Mercedes," Y/n said gently. "Listen, I'm going to hop in the shower, but we can talk later. Tell Sam I said hi."
"Will do! Talk to you later, n/n," Mercedes responded before the call disconnected.
Y/n placed his phone on the charger and headed for the shower, hoping the warm water would soothe his aching body and clear his mind after the chaotic night he experienced and a challenging morning.
XXXXX XXXXX
Monday morning arrived, and Y/n woke up feeling refreshed and surprisingly energetic, considering the events of the past few days. He had spent the rest of his weekend relaxing in the living room and briefly chatting with his dad on the phone. It felt like he had finally gotten a good night's rest, and the absence of a killer headache was a welcome bonus.
The male stretched his arms above his head and yawned, feeling the satisfying crack of his joints. He whistled softly to himself as he went through his morning routine, preparing for the long day ahead.
As he drove to the hospital, his thoughts drifted back to his night with Stephen. A flush crept up his neck, thinking back to their sexual encounter. Even though they worked in different areas of the hospital— Y/n as an immunologist and Stephen as a neurosurgeon — they still often saw one another. Y/n wondered if the man in question would bring up what happened between them. He hoped he'd agree to forget about the situation and move on.
When he entered the familiar halls of the hospital, Y/n greeted his colleagues with a smile and nodded to familiar faces. He made his way to the staff lounge for that much-needed cup of coffee because his appointments were back-to-back, and he knew the caffeine would be essential to getting through the day. The lounge was empty as he poured the liquid into a cup.
And then:
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Good morning, Y/n," that was Stephen's voice. Stephen's arms wrapped around Y/n's body, planting a hand on his chest. Y/n's breath hitched as Stephen planted hot, wet kisses on the back of his neck. "You were really amazing last night, you know?" Stephen nipped at Y/n's earlobe. "We definitely got to recreate that, huh?"
Y/n’s breathing hitched. He couldn’t deny that Stephen’s lips felt amazing against his skin, but he really needed to talk to him to make sure they were on the same page. And seeing how this guy was sucking on the back of his neck, It's clear that they weren’t on the same page.
Y/n turned around in Stephen's embrace, stopping the kisses and taking one step back. "Stephen, we need to talk," he said.
The man in question, on the other hand, shook his head. "Later. I want to make love to you again. Right here, right now."
His hand reached forward, palming Y/n's erection with his fingers. This caused Y/n to take two steps back, needing to put a sizable distance between them. There was no way they could do anything here, especially in a hospital where they could be walked in on at any given moment.
Stephen looked annoyed as he took two steps forward, placing his hand on Y/n’s shoulder. "What is there to talk about?"
Y/n took a deep breath in, gathering his thoughts together. "Look, man, last night was — it was a mistake. A good mistake, but still a mistake. We were drunk, and—"
Stephen's eyes narrowed, and his grip on Y/n's shoulders tightened. "A mistake?" he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. "Is that truly how you feel?"
Y/n's heart stilled as he saw a flash of something dark in the surgeon's eyes. It was only a fleeting moment, but it was enough to send a chill down his spine. Still, he needed to get these words out. 
"Yes," Y/n said softly. "We should forget it. You know, pretend it never happened."
For a long moment, Stephen didn't voice anything, gray eyes fixed on Y/n’s face. Y/n honestly didn’t know what Stephen was going to say, but he just hoped that he didn’t blow up in his face or be upset with him. Then, slowly, he released Y/n’s shoulder and took a step back, grinning.
"Alright Y/n. If that's what you want, then we will pretend that it never happened." 
The h/c-haired doctor nodded, internally sighing in relief that Stephen understood where Y/n was coming from "Thanks for being so understanding. We should both probably get to work right about now." 
Stephen offered a small smile and opened the door for Y/n, who thanked him and left the lounge. Stephen headed to his office on the fourth floor, while Y/n headed to his office on the third floor.
Booting up his computer, the h/c haired doctor pulled up his patients' files and began reviewing them, preparing for the long appointments. His first patient was a young girl named Sarah, and he took a moment to familiarize himself with her medical history before her appointment.
Exactly at nine o'clock, there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Y/n called out. The door opened to reveal a brown-skinned muscular man and a young girl with brown hair and brown eyes peeking out from behind him. Y/n acknowledged the man's attractiveness but shook off the thought since it wasn't appropriate.
"Good morning, Mr. Flynn. Please, come in," Y/n said, offering them a warm smile and extending his hand for him to shake, "I'm Dr. L/n, but feel free to call me Y/n."
"Nice to meet you, sir," Jesse responded, shaking Y/n’s hand and stepping inside. the office, guiding his daughter forward. "This right here is my daughter, Sarah. She's a bit shy, so please bear with her."
"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Y/n knelt down to the girl's eye level. "You can call me Y/n, too. No need for formalities." He patted on the examination table. "Take a seat here, and we can have a little chat?"
The young girl nodded silently and climbed up onto the examination table, her eyes darting around the room. Jesse took a seat in the empty chair next to his daughter as Y/n began the examination.
"Sarah, your dad explained to me on the phone last week that you've been having tummy aches lately. Can you talk to me about that?" Y/n's voice was friendly.
She twisted her hands in her lap. Then, in a small voice, she spoke, "My tummy hurts sometimes, and I don't know why."
Y/n nodded understandingly. "That must be scary. Can you tell me where it hurts? Does it hurt all the time or sometimes?"
Sarah pointed to her mid-region. "It hurts right here and it usually hurts after I eat."
"I see," Y/n murmured, making a note on her chart. "Okay, I'm going to take a look and see if I can figure out what might be causing you to have these tummy pains."
Sarah nodded, her hand reaching out for her father's hand, and Jesse held it.
Y/n proceeded to perform a gentle examination, taking care to explain each step to both Sarah and Jesse. He asked additional questions about Sarah’s diet, any recent changes in her routine, and any other symptoms she experienced.
When the exam was over, Y/n concluded that Sarah was likely experiencing some digestive issues, possibly due to a mild food intolerance. He suggested dietary changes for her and an over-the-counter prescription to help soothe her stomach.
"Thank you, Y/n," relief was present in Jesse’s voice. "We really appreciate your help. Sarah hasn't been well lately, and we wanted to make sure she was okay."
Y/n waved off the thanks. "It's my job. I'll send the prescription to your pharmacy, and you can pick it up tomorrow. Try the prescriptions for a couple of weeks, and if she shows no signs of improvements, we'll discuss further steps." He reached into his candy drawer and offered Sarah a lollipop. "And here's a lollipop for being the most amazing patient I've ever had!"
A smile appeared on Sarah’s face as she took the candy from him. "Thanks, Y/n!"
"You're welcome. It was nice meeting you and I hope that you feel better soon."
Jesse and Sarah exited the room, and Y/n began sending Sarah's prescription to her pharmacy. Just as he finished, there was another knock banging on his door.
"Come in," he called out, expecting one of the nurses or maybe his next patient.
To his surprise, it was Jesse who poked his head into the room. "Sorry to bother you, Y/n. I just realized I left my jacket here," he walked over to the chair where he was sitting and picked up the jacket.
"It's no problem at all," Y/n assured him.
Jesse slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and turned toward the door. Just as he was about to exit, he paused and turned back, as if to say something.
"Listen," Jesse began. "I know this might be a bit forward, but I wanted to ask: do you have a special someone in your life?"
Y/n's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected this line of questioning, but he supposed it was not uncommon for patients' family members to become curious about their doctors' private lives. He wasn't sure about telling his patient's father that he likes dudes since he didn’t know his stance on same-sex couples, but something compelled him to tell him.
"Well," he chose his words thoughtfully. "to answer your question, no, there's no special someone in my life. There used to be a guy but he lost that title privilege."
Jesse nodded, taking a step closer to Y/n's desk. "Interesting. So, if I were to ask you to join me for dinner tomorrow, what are the chances that you would say yes?"
Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. He had not expected this turn of events. Jesse was a handsome dude, no doubt, and seemed like a good guy. Y/n would be down for it, but the timing wasn't right.
"Oh, I'm flattered, Jesse. Truly," Y/n said sincerely, voraciously, "But to be honest, I just got out of a two-year relationship, and I'm not looking to date right now."
Jesse's face fell, but he gave a nod. "I get it. It's too bad I didn't meet you three years ago. Have a good rest of your day."
Jesse turned the doorknob and left Y/n's office. Y/n watched him go, intrigued by his forwardness. He wondered when the next time they'd see one another again.
And Y/n found his question answered by the time Valentine’s Day rolled around. However, not only did he find the answer to his question but he found a revelation as well, a scary discovery about Stephen.
As Y/n sat in his office, writing notes, he heard a knock on the door. He called out for the individual to come in, but instead received another knock. A bewildered expression crossed Y/n's face as he got up to open the door himself, only to find no one outside. However, he spotted a bouquet of roses and a box of expensive chocolates, each with a note attached.
The note attached to the roses said, "For my one true love, Y/n. I can't wait to see you again soon. -Stephen." The note on the chocolates read, "To sweeten your day, my love." There was a heart under it.
Confusion painted a portrait on his face. It seemed as though Stephen believed they were in a relationship, despite Y/n's clear indication that he wanted to forget about their one night together. Y/n knew he needed to set the record straight and speak to Stephen as soon as possible.
His opportunity came during lunchtime when he was sitting at one of the tables outside. Stephen approached and took a seat next to him without asking, greeting Y/n politely and inquiring about his day.
A forced smile appeared on Y/n's face. "It's going well, thank you. And yours?"
"Wonderful, now that I see you," Stephen replied, reaching over to take Y/n's hand in his own. "Did you get the flowers and chocolates I sent? I know you like roses."
Y/n nodded slowly. "Yes, I did, and—"
"Shh, Y/n," Stephen interrupted, pressing a finger to Y/n's lips and running it over his bottom lip. "No need to thank me. That's what good boyfriends do."
Y/n's eyes widened because what the—? Did he just hear that correctly? Stephen thought that they were— "B-Boyfriends?" 
Stephen smiled and planted a kiss on Y/n's cheek, his fingers running over Y/n's knuckles. "Yes, boyfriends. You and I, of course. Where do you want me to take you for Valentine's Day dinner tonight? I know this amazing Italian restaurant—"
"Stop," he removed Stephen's hand from his and held up his own hand. "Look, I think you've got the wrong impression. We aren't boyfriends; we're not dating."
"And why is that?" Stephen questioned, scooting closer to Y/n in his chair. "We had sex, Y/n. That makes you mine now."
At that moment, Y/n realized that something was seriously wrong with Stephen. His insistence that they were dating, despite Y/n's clear rejection, was an obvious sign of delusion. Y/n knew he had to be firm and stand his ground.
Y/n shook his head. Why wasn't Stephen getting it? "I'm not yours. At all. We only had a night together. I am not interested in pursuing anything further. I don't want to be with you. Do you understand that?"
Stephen's jaw clenched, and for a split second, Y/n saw a dangerous flash in his gray eyes. Then, Stephen pushed the table away and stormed off, muttering something about Y/n being ungrateful.
Y/n let out a sigh, feeling drained by the conversation. He hoped Stephen would finally understand and leave him alone.
But Y/n really didn’t feel like working for the rest of the day, so he took the rest of the day off and asked his secretary to reschedule his remaining patients.
As he made his way to the parking lot, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He was half expecting it to be Stephen, but he was relieved to find Jesse standing there.
"Oh, wassup, Jesse. What are you doing here? Is everything alright with Sarah?"
"Yes, she's doing much better, thanks to you. The pills you recommended worked well," he responded. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."
Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"
"Well, it's Valentine's Day, and I know it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight?"
Y/n was at a loss for words. Sure, he did find himself wanting to get to know this guy better. But he hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea since there are ethical implications of dating a patient's family member. He could get in a lot of trouble.
"I appreciate the offer, Jesse, but I don't know if it's appropriate," Y/n attempted to explain. "I mean, you're Sarah’s father, I'm her doctor. It’s a conflict of interest." 
Jesse waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. It’s only a conflict of interest if we’re dating, which we’re not. We’ll just be two people enjoying a meal together. What do you say, doc? It could be fun."
Well, when Jesse puts it like that, Y/n guess that sort of makes sense. Since they’re technically not dating, it wouldn’t cross any ethical lines in a literal manner.
Besides, his friends had Valentine's Day plans, and he was the only odd one out. Y/n was planning on spending the day in his living room and ordering some pizza.
"Well, I do enjoy a good meal and good company," the h/c-haired male agreed to the dinner. "Where did you have in mind?"
"There's this restaurant downtown that recently opened," Jesse suggested. "It's called Lepley's and it has good reviews. I've been wanting to try it. Sound good?"
"It sounds perfect. Shall we meet there? Around seven?" Y/n gave a thumbs up.
"Seven it is," Jesse confirmed.
Jesse walked back to his car, and Y/n entered his own vehicle, still processing what just happened. Momentarily, Y/n wondered what the evening would bring.
Unbeknownst to Y/n, a certain man with a goatee had watched the interaction. Stephen's gaze followed Y/n as he drove from the hospital, a dark look in his eyes.
XXXXX XXXXX
Y/n arrived at the restaurant promptly at seven, his heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He had taken the time to dress nicely, opting for jeans and a dressy shirt. Casual yet stylish too.
As he entered the cozy establishment, he spotted Jesse sitting at a table by the window, looking around the place as the gentle music played in the background.
"Y/n, over here!" Jesse waved him over.
Y/n made his way through the bustling restaurant, feeling a pair of eyes on him as he walked. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but he forced those thoughts aside, reminding himself that this was simply a nice, friendly dinner.
No extra strings attached. 
"Hey, Jesse," Y/n greeted politely, sliding into the seat across from Jesse. "This place looks wonderful." He took another glance around the loud, crowded place. Valentine's Day made this place packed.
"It does, indeed," the man sitting across from Y/n agreed, brown eyes flickering over to the fish tank that was on display. "I've heard great things about this place." 
A waiter approached their table, handing them menus and offering them drinks. Y/n and Jesse both ordered a lemonade.
"So, what's it like being a doctor?" Jesse asked, leaning back in his seat to give Y/n all his attention. "I imagine long hours."
Y/n nodded in agreement. "Long hours for sure. It's very demanding and a lot of work, yet there's nothing more rewarding than helping patients with health issues."
"That paycheck must be very rewarding too," he said. "With that salary, you get to live in a big house and drive a fancy car."
The waiter returned with their drinks and took out his notepad, asking them what they wanted to order. Jesse ordered a steak with a side of mac and cheese, and broccoli cheese casserole. Y/n then ordered a simple cheeseburger and fries. The waiter said their meals would arrive shortly as he took their menus and left the two alone.
Y/n took a sip from his lemonade before answering Jesse’s remark. "Well, believe it or not, I don’t live in a big house. I live in a small apartment. However, I plan on upgrading to a house once my student loans are fully paid off, which should be real soon. I also plan on keeping my Chrysler. I’ve never been much of a big spender; I like the financial stability that comes with being a doctor. But enough about me. What do you do for a living?"
Jesse explained that he works in the finance department of Stark Industries. He analyzes investments and monitors the company’s financial performance. That was simply remarkable, especially to work for such a renowned company.
Soon, their food arrived, and they dug in, the conversation flowing easily between them. They talked about their hobbies and even shared embarrassing stories from their childhood, laughing together.
As the evening progressed, Y/n relaxed, enjoying the time he shared with Jesse. It had been a very long time since he'd connected with someone so effortlessly, and Y/n found himself hoping that this wouldn't be the last time they met up.
Y/n and Jesse ordered a rich chocolate soufflé to go and decided to split the bill, both insisting on contributing. As they walked out of Lepley's, they realized that their cars were parked on opposite sides of the lot. Jesse's eyes wandered to Y/n.
"Well, I think it's time we call it a night. Thank you for having dinner with me."
Y/n smiled. "Thank you for inviting me. It was definitely better than spending this day alone with a box of pepperoni pizza."
Jesse nodded, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Happy Valentine's Day, Y/n."
"Happy Valentine's Day, Jesse," he said.
And then, the two men parted ways. As Y/n walked to his car, he felt a sense of content. He was glad he had gone out tonight, and he could say that thoughts of his ex-boyfriend were no longer at the forefront of his mind. Despite the rocky start to his day with Stephen, the night with Jesse had ended on a good note.
Or so he thought.
Y/n had just unlocked his car door when he felt a hand cover his mouth and pull him backward. Startled, he tried to push his assailant off, but the person wouldn't let go, keeping a tight grip on him. He was dragged into an alley, and the arms around him finally released their grip. Y/n scrambled forward and turned to see who the fuck had dragged him in there.
And it was Stephen. Fucking. Strange.
"What the fuck Stephen?!" Y/n shouted, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Stephen remained silent, staring at Y/n angrily. He was pissed. Before Y/n could react, Stephen pushed him up against the wall, his hand wrapping around Y/n's throat, squeezing the sensitive area a bit.
The dark-haired doctor leaned in close, their noses almost touching. "Who was that guy you were having dinner with?"
"I... I was just hanging out with a friend."
"A friend?" Stephen's lip curled. "Is that what you call it? I saw the way you were looking at him. I won't tolerate cheating."
"You can't cheat on someone when you're not together, which we aren't!" Y/n felt drained by this entire situation. This dude was crazy and needs serious help.
"Oh, we’re together. Always," Stephen pressed his body against Y/n's and dry-humped him from the front. "and forever. Stephen then pressed his lips to Y/n’s. The kiss was aggressive, almost violent, and Y/n tried to pull away, but Stephen held him in place, his hand leaving Y/n's throat to grip his jaw. "You always did like it rough," he murmured against his mouth before pulling away with a grin.
But the grin soon faded as Y/n's foot connected with Stephen's groin, causing him to double over in pain and drop to the ground. Y/n seized the opportunity to run back to his car and drive away, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. As he turned off his car engine, entered his apartment, and dropped his keys on the table, Y/n's hands were still trembling.
This was the last straw for Y/n.
Tomorrow morning, Y/n is filing a report with Human Resources and if that didn't resolve the situation, he would consider transferring to a different department. This kind of behavior cannot continue.
XXXXX XXXXX
Y/n was up early the next morning, determined to meet up with HR before his shift started. He was going to put an end to this situation with Stephen once and for all. It was clear that Stephen had developed an unhealthy obsession with him, and the h/c-haired male refused to put himself in more situations like this.
After a shower and a cup of coffee, Y/n dressed in a sharp suit, ready to face the confrontation head-on. He was aware that presenting himself confidently and assertively would be important to being taken seriously. As he finished tying his tie, the news played in the background — something he usually ignored while getting ready for work. But this time, Y/n turned the volume up and his eyes were wide with shock at the reporter's words.
A picture of Stephen appeared on the screen, and the reporter explained that Strange had been involved in a major car crash, his vehicle flying off the road and crashing into a nearby riverbank. He had died from the accident last night.
Stephen was dead.
A mixture of emotions washed over Y/n, but the predominant feeling was... relief. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with Stephen or his antics anymore, and he could go to work without always worrying about being harassed. A smile crept onto Y/n's features as he shut off the TV with a click of the remote. He no longer had to worry about talking to HR.
Today was going to be a great day at work. In fact, it turned out to be his best.
As the months passed, Y/n's life only improved. He finally finished paying off his student loans and upgraded to a four-bedroom house, ecstatic to move out of the city and away from the constant chaos that seemed to surround his old apartment building. He received a salary raise at work, took a vacation, and even adopted a golden retriever named Max to share his new home with. His life was great, and he's going to keep it like that.
Y/n was now sitting on his couch in the living room, channel surfing as his dog snoozed by his side. A huge storm raged outside, with lightning flashing, thunder rumbling, and rain pouring down. He had just found a channel to settle on when the lights flickered and the TV shut off.
"Damn this storm," Y/n muttered.
With a sigh, the man grabbed his phone and headed toward the basement. When he reached the circuit breaker, he flipped the switch, and his lights came back on.
Y/n returned upstairs, but he felt too tired to stay up any longer. He had been dozing off before the lights went out, so he decided to go to bed. After changing into his pajamas, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and let out a small scream. Stephen Strange was standing behind him, a smirk tainting his features. But when Y/n turned, no one was there.
He looked around the room, ensuring that no one was in his house, and shook his head, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. Stephen was dead; there was no way he could be standing here. It had to be his imagination or something.
With that thought, Y/n got underneath the covers and closed his eyes tightly. The sound of rain always helped him fall asleep faster. He entered the first stage, the twilight stage, when the man heard a weird noise that he couldn't describe. He opened his eyes to see an orange portal materializing on his bed. And he backed away very fast. What the hell was that? Just then, he was sucked into the portal, only to find himself... back in his room?
Y/n blinked. He realized that he was, indeed, back in his own bedroom, but something felt off. How had he fallen through some sort of portal in his room, only to end up back in the same place?
"Leave it to you to make pajamas look sexy, Y/n," a familiar voice commented.
The h/c-haired male stilled, recognizing the voice. No, no, no, that can't be right.
But, sure enough, when Y/n turned, there stood Stephen Strange. He was alive...? And wearing some sort of cloak.
"W-What are you doing here? They said you died in the car crash," he stammered.
Stephen threw his head back in laughter as if that idea was totally preposterous. "Well, technically, I did die in the crash, I was saved, thanks to surgery. I went to Kamar-Taj, became a wizard, and all that good stuff. The Sorcerer Supreme here."
Y/n couldn't believe this. How had this guy managed to do bad shit and become a wizard? It seemed unfair. Y/n tried to take a step back, wanting to put more distance between them, but Stephen held up his hand, and Y/n's lower body froze. He couldn't move the lower half of his body — no matter how hard he tried.
"What the hell did you do to me?" Y/n tried to run but, once more, couldn't do it.
"Just something to ensure you don't run off on me," Stephen explained, walking towards Y/n until he was standing right in front of him, eyes glancing at Y/n lips. "You know, I've missed the taste of you."
Before he could speak, Stephen's mouth captured his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Y/n couldn't move his lower body, but he could still move his face, so he turned his head to the side. Stephen gripped his jaw, forcing Y/n to maintain eye contact, and continued his relentless, demanding kiss. Finally, Stephen pulled away, his breathing ragged. "Tell me you love me," he whispered, cupping Y/n's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking Y/n's cheeks.
Y/n shook his head, his breath coming in short gasps, "I hate you so much, man."
The wizard paused, his eyes darkening. "You hate me?" he repeated slowly, his voice low and dangerous. And he looked furious, pissed. With a wave of his hand, Y/n was thrown on the bed and landed with a thud. Stephen climbed on top of him, pinning his arms against the bed. "You hate me after everything I've done for you? After everything I've given you?"
"Yes, I do," Y/n breathed out truthfully. "Because you're fucking crazy, Stephen."
"Now, that’s one thing we can agree on," Stephen released his right hand to run his finger over Y/n’s jawline. "I’m crazy for you, and you are going to love me."
Then, something weird began happening to Y/n. Longing and desire engulfed him, his thoughts filling with images of the person he hated most. No matter how hard he tried to think of someone else, his thoughts kept returning to Stephen.
"What," Y/n shook his head as if he was trying to shake whatever was happening to him off. "What did you do to me?" His vision was starting to become blurry.
"Rest now, my love. We'll talk later,"
Y/n soon slipped into unconsciousness, his mind clouded with confusion and a growing sense of unease for the future.
Stephen smiled as he watched Y/n fall into a deep sleep, his breath evening out. He moved to place Y/n's head in his lap, gently stroking his hair. Even asleep, Y/n looked good, just as he was that night.
The Sorcerer Supreme's thoughts drifted back to that fateful night with Y/n, the night that had changed everything. He remembered the way Y/n had looked at him across the crowded bar, their eyes locking briefly before Y/n quickly looked away, taking another sip from his drink. Stephen had known in that instant that Y/n was interested, and their amazing night together had only confirmed his theory—they were meant to be together. That night was literal proof of their love.
When Stephen had woken up the next morning to find Y/n gone, he had been confused about his whereabouts. But he had shrugged it off, absolutely certain that he would see his lover again soon.
And when he saw Y/n in the lounge, he couldn't resist coming up behind him and kissing his neck. God, Y/n's skin had felt so good against his lips, and he had the sudden urge to take Y/n right then and there. But Y/n had surprised him by saying that their night together had been a mistake. There was no way that night could've been a mistake. It was perfect.
Stephen knew that Y/n was only saying that because he was scared — scared of getting into another relationship. And that was okay. Stephen would give him the space he needed because he knew that deep down, Y/n felt the same way.
So, he had given him space, settling for watching him like a hawk from afar. But when Valentine's Day rolled around, the best holiday for couples, Stephen knew it was the perfect opportunity to spend some time together. Y/n had more than enough time to get over that stupid ex, and now it was their time to be together.
Stephen had also decided to get Y/n some generic Valentine's Day gifts, chocolates, and flowers, and planned to take him to a fancy restaurant in the city. But once again, Y/n didn't want to go out with him, which was starting to piss him off. After all, they were boyfriends after their night together, so why did Y/n keep insisting that they weren't? It's annoying.
However, what was even more annoying was discovering that Y/n was going on a date with someone else. Someone who wasn't him. Stephen's blood had boiled with unruly anger. How dare he cheat on him like this? He wouldn't stand for it.
The surgeon hadn't thought twice before he pulled Y/n into an alley after his date and scolded the man for cheating. Y/n was clearly playing hard to get, wanting to make him jealous, and it was working. Stephen was going to show Y/n exactly who he belonged to, which had resulted in a kick to the groin. That had been painful, but he had recovered quickly and hopped into his car to follow Y/n. He wouldn't let Y/n escape his grasp.
That's when he got into a car accident and died briefly during surgery before being brought back to life. He was then taken to Kamar-Taj, where Stephen had become the Sorcerer Supreme and the Master of the Mystic Arts. Pretty cool.
Throughout his time there, one person remained at the forefront of his mind.
Y/n.
Stephen had also realized that his love for Y/n was still strong, and he knew that Y/n loved him as well, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. Now that he was a wizard, he was going to use his abilities to bring Y/n to his new home.
And that's exactly what he did.
Stephen brought Y/n to his new home near the Sanctum, using magic to make the inside of the home identical to Y/n's old room. He knew that Y/n would love him for the time and effort he put into making sure everything was just right.
Once again, Y/n surprised him by saying that he hated him, which frustrated him.
Was it that hard for Y/n to accept their love? Well, if he wanted to be stubborn, Stephen would have to make him see it. He cast a spell, a love spell, to ensure Y/n's devotion. It was his way of making Y/n see the truth — they belonged together.
Y/n woke up sometime later, yawning. His eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was Stephen, sitting next to him.
"Are you okay, my love?" Stephen asked, fingers tracing patterns on Y/n's cheek.
Y/n smiled lovingly at Stephen, his pearly white teeth flashing. "Of course, I'm okay. I get to wake up every day next to you, handsome." He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Stephen's neck, pulling him into a nice, loving hug.
Stephen's smile was victorious, and he melted into the embrace, his arms coming around to possessively wrap around Y/n's waist. Y/n was finally his, and he had finally admitted that he loved Stephen as much as Stephen loved him.
He knew that some might call him obsessive or even delusional, but he didn't care. In his eyes, Y/n was his and his alone. He would do whatever it took to keep it that way, no matter what. After all — what is life without a little danger?
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